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DEEDS OF DARING
BY BOTH
BLUE AND G|RAY
THRILLING NARRATIVES
OF
PERSONAL ADVENTURE, EXPLOITS OF SCOUTS AND SPIES, FOR-
LORN HOPES, HEROIC BRA VERY, PATIENT ENDURANCE, IM-
PRISONMENTS AND HAIR-BREADTH ESCAPES, ROMANTIC
INCIDENTS, HAND TO HAND STRUGGLES, HUMOROUS
AND TRAGIO EVENTS, PERILOUS JOURNEYS, BOLD
DASHES, BRILLIANT SUCCESSES, MAGNANIMOUS
ACTIONS, ETC, ON EACH SIDE THE LINE
DURING
THE GREAT CIVIL WA R.
BY D. M. KELSEY,
Author of “Pioneer Heroes and Daring Deeds.”
No more shall the war-cry sever,
Or the winding rivers be red ;
They banish our anger forever
When they laurel the graves of our dead :
From “The Blue and the Gray.”
|2|&O FUSELY ||,I_USTRATE]).
PHILADELPHIA AND ST. LOUIs:
SCAMMELL & COMPANY, PUBLISHERS.
SAN FRANCISCO: A. L. BANCROFT & Co.
1884.
COPYRIGHT' 1883,
T}Y H. B. SCA.M.M.E.LL.
All Rights Reserved.
i
PREFACE.
HIS volume does not assume to be a formal history, nor
even to relate more than a modicum of the innumerable
incidents of personal adventure and examples of bravery exhib-
ited on both sides during the Civil War. But it is believed to
be the first volume in which a representative collection has ever
been made of such examples by both Federal and Confederate
participants, impartially related. Many have been the books
which have been written and published from each interested
standpoint, in which the coloring of the narrative by the preju-
dices of the writer was only too evident. Such books were nec-
essarily (and not improperly) one-sided in view. But is there
not abundant room for a volume that shall exhibit those traits
of personal courage which all Americans claim to be a common
heritage 7 In the belief that there is such room, and that, after
the lapse of a generation of time, the most captious can hardly
demur, there is here given the only collection of authenticated
exploits by both the Blue and the Gray yet made, and one of
nearly seventy chapters.
It is believed that the narratives are true; there is no one of
them which does not rest upon good authority, after laborious
research and frequent comparison; and it has been the aim of
the author to make the work as nearly impartial as possible; to
give no offense to the strongest partisans, North or South—not
from subserviency, but because only neutrality is proper in such
a work. As to the degree of success, the reader must be the
judge. Of course, after the lapse of nearly twenty years since
the close of the War, it is less difficult to see both sides fairly
than it was at first ; but it has often been not a little puzzling

vi Preface.
to decide just how much was to be believed in accounts in which
the armies were designated, respectively, as patriots and trai-
tors, or chivalry and mudsills. Such books, however, being
chiefly the work of non-combatants, have been but seldom con-
sulted—never relied upon; preference being given to the more
moderately expressed writings of the soldiers themselves.
No reasonable being can fail to admit that there must have
been great courage on both sides; if it were not so, the South
would have been conquered immediately, or not at all.
D. M. KELSEY.
@ONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
A PERSEVERING MESSENGER.
The Dispatch Bearers—Danger of the Mission—An Unlucky Meeting—The Messen-
ger Gets Left—Sent Back—Another Start—A More Unlucky Meeting—Court-
martialed by Guerillas—A Friend in Need—Sent Back Again—Irrepressible—A
Rendezvous in the Woods—Important Information—Why He Went Back—
Gives It Up....................................................................................“ 23
CHAPTER II.
ZOUAVES ON A SCOUT.
Ready to Move—Spoiling for a Fight—Reconnoitering—Returning—Three to One—
“We'll Back You”—A Surprise—ASkedaddle—A Brisk Engagement—AIRapid
Retreat—The Spoils of the Battle—Caring for the Wounded—Another Surprise
—A Strong Position—A Desperate Defense—A Hand-to-Hand Encounter—
Terrible Odds—Every Man for Himself—Help Comes Too Late—Marks of the
Fight .......................................................................... tº e º ſº e º e º gº º e º 'º e º º º e º se e is 30
CEIAPTER III.
BURNING A PRIVATEER.
Affairs at Pensacola—Setting Out—Their Presence Discovered—The Wessel Boarded
—The Fight—The Retreat—The Burning Vessel—Cut Loose From Her Moor-
ings—Drifts Out to Sea—A Grand Sight.................................................. 43
CHAPTER IV.
CAUGHT A TARTAR.
A Reconnoissance—A Hard Road to Travel—Surprised—Surrender of Arms—His
Captors Get His Ammunition, and He Gets His Liberty............................. 48
CHAPTER W.
A SCOUT TO BALTIMORE.
Necessity for Information—Obliging Videttes—A Successful Ruse—An Unexpected
Guest, Who Finds Himself in a Hornet's Nest, But Doesn't Get Stung—A Cor-
dial Reception—Attentions from the Officer of the Day—Danger Ahead—
Getting the Countersign—A Drunken Officer, Who Speedily Sobers Off—A
Changed Home—Trustworthy (?) Messengers—A Deserved Fate—A Friendly
Chat, That Ends Unpleasantly—Crossing the River—The Enemy Alarmed—
Pursuit—Wexation of the Pursuers—The Pursued Triumphant..................... 53
CHAPTER WI.
ZAGONYI’S FAMOUS CHARGE.
Fremont—Zagonyi-Fremont's Body-Guard—A Kid-Gloved Brigade—The Prairie
7
viii CONTENTS.
Scouts—Valuable Information—Strength and Disposition of the Confederates—
“Fremont and the Union”—The Valley of Death—Mathenyi's Attack—Retreat
of the Enemy—A Determined Foe—His Fate—The Fight Ended—Not a Kid-
Gloved Brigade................................... e is e e e e s e s e e º e º s is e º e º 'º º e º e © º e º e º e º e º e º & © o e o e o e o e s - e 64
CHAPTER WII.
A. VENTURESOME VENTURE.
Too Venturesome for a Leader—A Good Chance—In Ambush—A Disappointed
Party—A Slim Chance—A Woman in the Case—A Desperate State of Affairs
—A Golden Opportunity—That Proves to be Less Golden—A Division is
Brought Out—Capture of the Scouts—Exchange..................................... 73
CHAPTER VIII.
THE GREAT RADLWAY RAID.
The Georgia State Railroad—The Backbone of the Confederacy—Going South—
Twenty Minutes for Breakfast—An Unlooked-for Interruption—A Ridiculous
Race—Cutting the Telegraph Wire—Beauregard's Powder—Al)angerous Delay
—The Reason For It—A Fatal Mistake—First Signs of Pursuit—The Race
Explained—Leaping Over the Obstructions—The Impossible is Done—Unsuc-
cessful Ruses—A New Danger—A Ray of Hope—The Engineer's Plan—The
Captain's—The Pursuit on Foot—Captured—Escape of Captain Andrews—Re-
capture—His Fate—Fate of His Companions—A Daring Escape—The Presi-
dent's Praise—The Missing................................................. ................. 81
CHAPTER IX.
A SOLITARY SCOUT.
His Errand–In the Enemy's Country—A Cordial Reception—A Mistaken Crowd—
Cool Impudence—The Gunboats for Land Use—A Yankee Trick—Decidedly
Brilliant—A Horse in Church—A Scared Justice—A Friendly Warning—
Asleep in the Storm—In a New Role—The Guest of a Regiment—An Unsuc-
cessful Attempt—Pursued by Bloodhounds—Running Water—A Novel Bed—
A Dusky Friend—A Feast—A Horse and Buggy Impressed—Arrived in Style
tº
§
—Safe in Camp........................................................... • * g e s tº e e º e º e º & e tº e s & © tº tº 99
CEIAPTER X.
STRING FELLOW AGAINST ODDS.
A Small-sized Raid—Posting the Force—A Bearer of Dispatches—Disobedience of
Orders—An Alarming State of Affairs—The Biter Bit—Injured Innocence—An
Indignant Prisoner—Something Wrong—The Prisoner Refuses to be Released
—Between Two Fires—A Strong Temptation—Resisted—A Sudden Revelation
—A Little Battle—A Surrender and Skedaddle—Astonishing the Pickets—A
Race—A Battle of Larger Forces—Retreat of the Confederates—Taking Stock
of the Spoils—He Called Himself a Fool—And Nobody Contradicted Him...115
CHAPTER XI.
A. MAD CHASE.
The Armies in Mississippi—Driving in the Pickets—Reinforcements—A Slight
Skirmish—Something More of a Race—The Foremost Man—A Lucky Detour
—Thirteen Prisoners.... * & º 126
CoNTENTs. 1X.
CHAPTER XII.
CAPTURING A. CAPTAIN.
A Ghostly Visitor—Investigations—A Woman in the Case—Trooly Loil—A Sus-
picious Officer—Determined to Find it Out—He Finds it Out—But Gets Lost
Himself............... • . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 130
CHAPTER XIII.
IN THE WRONG PEW.
A Federal Aid's Errand on the Battle-field—See Where the Enemy Is—He Sees—
Cheek—The Message Hampton Didn’t Send—The Enemy Sees Him—Goes
Several Better—He Stakes His Pile—Can’t Bluff Them—A Pleasant Conver-
sation—A Wounded Leg—That Runs Well–Escape............................. 134
CHAPTER XIV.
A DESPERATE CHARGE.
Mechanicsville—Gaines' Mills—Position of the Federals—The Battle—Jackson’s
Arrival—Fourth Texas—Charge on a Federal Battery—The Privates—Fight
for the Guns—Victory—The Cost......................................................... 140
CHAPTER XV.
A SPY'S ADVENTURE.
The Spy—His Work Done—Leaving the Camp—Hunting the Boat—A Wain Search
—His Character. Suspected in Camp—Pursued—Bloodhounds—The Stream
—Nearly Caught—The Dog's Fate—The Spy's Escape........................... 146
CEIAPTER XVI.
COMMISSIONED BY THE ENEMY.
A Dangerous Errand—A Sharp Trick—Captured—Condemned—The Mysterious
Bullet—A Curious Officer—Curiosity Gratified—The Commission—The Spy's
Pretended Distress—His Release............................................................ 152
CHAPTER XVII.
CAPTAIN LIGHTNING’S TRICKS.
Morgan's Kentucky Raid—One of his Assistants—Reason for the Nickname—A
Good Beginning—A Strange Coincidence—A Practical Joke—Lebanon—A
Vanished Operator—A Bet Won—And Information Gained—An Astonished
Operator—An Important Message—The Enemy Knew Too Much—But Not
For Long—A Missing Instrument—An Alarmed Operator—Embarrassing
Questions—Unsatisfactory Answers—Telling the Truth Does No Harm—A Pru-
dent Operator—“Fixing Up a Plan to Capture Morgan”—A Sharp Repri-
mand—An Astonishing, Statement—The Signature Explained—General Or-
ders No. 1–No More Such Work—Ellsworth's Invention........................ 156
CHAPTER XVIII.
- A WONDERFUL RIDE.
Self Praise is Half Scandal—An Enemy's Generosity—Charge on the Battery—A
Cannoneer's Resolve—Saving a Gun—Five Hundred Bullets—The Mark Un-
hit—Cheered by the Enemy—Safe......................................................... 168
CHAPTER XIX.
- A GENERAL’S ESCAPE.
Manassas or Bull Run–Hunting for Troops—An Unexpected Meeting—A Trio of
ū
X contRNTs.
Stragglers—Who Exchanged Opinions—One is Suspected—They had Better
have Let Him Go-A Surprised Federal................................. * * * * * * * * ~ e º e º ºr 173
CHAPTER XX.
A PAIR OF FORAGERS.
They Want their Breakfast—How They Got it—A Traitorous Hostess—Pursued—
Close Quarters—A Narrow Escape—Detected—A Good Thing for the Com-
CHAPTER XXI.
A SCOUT INTO ARKANSAS.
On the March—A Disappointment—As Good a Plan—The Unexpected Guests—
The Capture—Destruction of the Saltpeter Works—The Prisoners—Return..182
CHAPTER XXII.
RESCUING A COMRADE.
Infantry Curiosity—Cavalry Disgust—Moral of the Story—Attack on the Train—
The Charge—Repulsed—Harper's Perilous Position—A Generous Offer—A
Warm Meeting—Safe—A Close Shave—A Frank Confession—A Second
Charge, and its Result........... tº w tº t e º 'º e º e tº e º 'º e º e º e º e º 'º & e º 'º - e º 'º e s e º e º e º e tº e º ºs e s e e s is e º e e º a e e s s a 187
CHAPTER XXIII.
SECRET SERVICE.
A Mysterious Order—The Man Needed—Explanation of the Order—Disappear-
ance of the Soldier—Sudden Appearance of the Quaker—Interviewing the
Picket—Distributing Tracts and Examining Fortifications—An Innocent Note
—With Much Meaning—An Unlucky Meeting:-The Quaker Disappears—
The Kind of Tracts He Meant—Suspicions Verified—News to Gen. Bragg—A
Fine Old Country Gentleman—And Equally Fine Old Whisky—Gen. Bragg's
Intentions—Tom Sees the Joke—Delay—Dangerous Proximity—Allaying Sus-
picions—A Narrow Escape—A Second Mysterious Order................... .....194
CHAPTER XXIV.
ONE OF MOSBY'S RAIDS.
Affairs at Fairfax Court House—Disposing of the Pickets—The Meaning of It—
Prisoners and Booty—A Narrow Escape—Different Statements............... 209
CHAPTER XXV.
AN ADVENTURE OF PAULINE CUSHMAN.
Startling Advice–The Toast—Effect on the Audience—“Banished South "-Her
Wanderings—Securing a Disguise—Setting Out—A Camp Fire—Friends or
Foes?—Foes—Betrayed—Pursued—The Wounded Federal—Help-Captured
—Scaring Her Captors—Escape—After Adventures................ “.................218
CHAPTER XXVI.
A DARING RESCUE.
A Mysterious Hero—Seeking Danger—Stirring News—Friends in Peril–Recon-
noissance—The Journey—A False Alarm—Outside the Jail—In the Jail—Keys
of the Cells—A Single-Handed Attack—The Keys Secured—Release of the
ſº
CONTENTS. X1
CHAPTER XXVII.
... • A YOUNG GIRL'S SERVICE.
Seeking a Guide—In Hot Pursuit—A Guide Procured—Her Ruse to Save the Gen-
eral—He Refuses a Living Shield—The Work Accomplished—The Offer of
Recompense—Her Choice—Fully Repaid............................................... 235
CHAPTER XXVIII.
CAPTURING A BATTLE-FLAG.
Chancellorsville—A Fated Regiment—Hand-to-Hand—The Colors—Avenging Their
Comrades—A Double Victory—The Trophies......................................... 239
CHAPTER XXIX.
A PRISONER'S NEWS.
A Friendly Chat—An Unwilling Listener—Exciting Tidings—His Resolve—Cir-
cumstances Favoring His Escape—His Departure—Asking Aid—The Guide
— Progress Under Difficulties — The End of the Journey — What Was
Saved.........................................................-------------------------------------- 243
CHAPTER XXX.
A SPY AT STUART'S HEADQUARTERS. -
The Work Cut Out—A Trusty Servant—A Solitary Scout—The Disguise—A
Country Chap—A “Rale Ginral”—Gives Stuart Some Valuable Information—
That Saves a Federal Train—Dismissed—Hears the Arrangements—An Ama-
teur Postmaster—He Doesn't Forward the Mail Matter—Prisoners and Booty
—Return............................ tº e º ºs e º e s e e s e s e e º 'º e º 'º - e. e. e. e. e. e s tº e s e e s e º e º ºs e e s e s e º e º 'º e = * * * * * * * * * * * 250
CHAPTER XXXI.
CAPTURE AND ESCAPE OF MORGAN.
The Partisan—The “Marion of the West”—Different Opinions—Reasons for Raid
—First Triumph—Called Back—Second Start—In Kentucky—Capt. Hines'
Scout—A Warm Reception—Marauding—General Scare—Rapid Marching—
High Water—Lessening the Force—Surrender of Morgan with Rennant of
Command—Securing the Prisoners—Ohio Penitentiary—“Old Man Hevay”—
The Prisoners Ride the Guard's Hobby—The Tunnel Begun—A Second Guard
Taken in by Flattery—Reconnoissance Made Possible—A Prize in the Shape
of a Spade—Tunneling—Necessity for Haste—A Brother's Devotion—Outside
the Penitentiary—Was there Collusion? — A Traveling Companion—The Es-
cape–Discovered—Morgan's Death...................................................... 256
CHAPTER XXXII.
A PERILOUS JOURNEY.
Necessity for the Trip—Volunteers—The Extra Tallow Cans—Running the Batter-
ies—Pursuit—The Obstacles—Useless Efforts—The Fireman's Plan—Oiling the
Track—Pursuit Baffled—Escape—Delivery of the Dispatches..................... 276
CHAPTER XXXIII.
A. CRIPPLED MESSENGER.
\ The Siege of Vicksburg—Caps and Dispatches to be Carried in—Departure—A
Pleasing Sight—Past the Pickets—Loss of Crutch and Horse—A Canoe–On the
River among the Enemy's Gunboats—A Lazy Fisherman–Passing the Feder-
xii contenTs.
al Guns—Failing Strength—In Wicksburg—Return—Finds a Horse—A Fora-
ger—An Unreliable Guide—A Cautious Enemy—A Lucky Find—Delivers his
Dispatches.......... tº e º 'º º tº º e º e º 'º e º 'º º ſº º ºs e e º º e s e e s e e s see e e Q e º e º 'º e s e tº º e º 'º - © tº e º O g º º º .286
CHAPTER XXXIV.
- IN THE ENEMY'S CAMP.
The Scout's Fate—His Successor—The Errand Stated—Setting Out—Precautions—
A Friendly Greeting—A Ready-made Disguise—A Guide Provided—The
Countersign—The Sentry Disposed of—A Struggle—A Council of War—An
Uninvited Member—A Wide-awake Sentry—Discovered—“No, You Don't I"
—“Tallahassee, Tallahassee!”—The Chase—Escape—The Result..............295
CHAPTER XXXV.
TEIE INSANITY DODGE.
Necessary Precautions — Have You Seen a Horse—A Second Meeting—A Well
IPlayed Part—An Unsuccessful Search—Delivery of Dispatches................. 305
CHAPTER XXXVI.
RUNNING THE BLOCKADE.
Why Necessary—“Cheek” of the Sumter—Usual Precautions—The Alabama's
Trial Trip—The Florida and the Lee—Difficulty about Coal—The Lee Gives
Way—Result of the Generosity—Chased by a Federal Steamer—How the
Speed was Increased—Exciting Race—Evading the Iroquois—The Blockad-
ing Fleet—The Lee's Presence Perceived—A Signal—The Lee Replies—
Blockaders Mystified—The Lee Slips Past................. e & e º e o e º e º C & 0 & 9 º' tº tº $ to e º 'º e º 'º we &310
CEIATPTER XXXVII.
A LEAP FOR LIFE. -
A Tempting Sight—Busy as Bees—The Bees are Scattered—He Fears their Sting
—Pursued—On the Edge of a Precipice—The Pursuers Draw Near—The
Leap—The Scent is Lost.................. e e º e o e s e º e e s e e º e º e º c e e º 'º e º sº e º ſº tº e º 'º e & © & & e º 'º e º 'º º & © & 317
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
A DARING CAPTURE. -
The Prince George Cavalry—An Enterprise of Privates—Betrayed by a Dog—
The Arrest—To McClellan's or Lee's Headquarters?—The Captors Prefer to
Go to Lee's—Effect on the Crew............................ © g e º e º e o e º 'º e º 'º e º e o e g º e º e s e s tº 322
CHAPTER XXXIX.
CAPTURDNG A PAYMASTER.
Unreliable Information—Fortress Monroe—The Approach of the Paymaster's
Boat—The Collision—Effect of the Shell—Picking up the Crew—The Spoils
-The Return ...................................... ............. tº E tº tº e º e º 'º e º º e º 'º e º is e e º e º º e º 'º e º e &327
CHAPTER XL.
A. BOLD DASH.
A Hasty Advance—A Retreat—Skirmishing—Advance of Enemy—Position of
Forces—Sharpshooting—Two Men Cut Off—Their Danger—A Generous Offi-
cer—A Charge—Forrest to the Rescuel—Success—Retreat Continued......331
CONTENTS. xiii
CHAPTER XLI.
w A. DARING ESCAPE.
A Meeting with Friends—Wolves in Sheep's Clothing—Docile (?) Prisoners—A
Successful Ruse—Detected—A Mad Chase—The End of It..................... 335
CEIAFTER XLII.
ATTACK ON THE NEW IRONSIDES.
The Two Navies—The New Ironsides—Stage of the War—Selection of the Men
—Approaching the Vessel—Hailed—Explosion of the Torpedo–Effect—Re-
treat of the Confederates—Swimming to Shore—“Good-bye, Boys, I Can't
Swim”—One Returns to Steamer–Escape.................................... © e º e º 'º is a 341
CHAPTER XLIII.
º AN ESCAPE FROM LIBBY.
Defying Search—Resolution to Escape—Opinion of Others—A Companion—An
Unsuccessful Plan—Another Mode Proposed—Mystifying their Comrades—
Passing the Guards—At the Rendezvous—A Keen-eyed Stranger—The
Source of Help—At the Picket Post........................-------------------- & © tº e º ºs tº a 347
CHAPTER XLIV.
A. DANGEROUS MISSION.
Necessity for Trusty Messenger—Col. Baker Volunteers—Dispatches Delivered—
Danger Ahead—Worse and More of it—The Whole Confederate Army—A
Break in the Column—Dashes Through—Pursued—Difficulties—Stratagem—
Success—A Close Contest — Bull Run — The Stream is Crossed—Escape of
Messenger...................... * * * c e º e s e e s e e s tº see e. e. e. e. e º ºs e º 'º e º e º 'º e º e s tº s e º e º e º 'º e º & tº e º 'º - e º 'º - e º e º 'º e º ºs e a 356
CHAPTER XLV.
- A STEAMER CAPTURED.
The Unsuspected Passengers—Well-Managed Acquaintanceship – Night at Sea—
A Friendly Chat— A Surprising Sound — Something Wrong in the Engine
Room — Crew Secured — Vessel in the Hands of the Passengers —A Rene-
gade's Advice—A Well-Planned Affair—Lieut. Parr Indicted—Acquitted—
Reason for Indictment.................................................... • Q & e o o º ºn 9 e o ºs e se e s e e 365
CHAPTER XLVI.
A BREAK FOR LIBERTY. º
The Old Prison—Efforts to Escape—Col. Rose's Tunnel—A False Alarm—Hor-
rors of the “Dead Cellar”—Capt. Moran Finds the Passage—The Entrance to
the Tunnel—Comrades—Into the Upper Air Again—Out of the City—Pur-
sued—Separation—The Swamp—Surrounded—A Dash for Liberty—Into the
Enemy's Arms—Back to Libby............. e e a e ee e. e. e. e. e. e. e º e tº E & G & © e º e º 'º e º 'º - e - © tº - e. e. e. e. e. e s ∈ tº e a 371
CHAPTER XLVII.
ADVENTURES OF AN ARTFUL DODGER.
The Scout's Errand—His Force—Mode of Proceeding—A Bivouac in the Woods
–Salt Mule and Sheet-iron Crackers—A Rude Awakening—“Let Me Dream
Again”—Not So Fast Asleep as the Enemy Thought—Flight—Surrounded
—Concealed—Discovered—The Difficulty of Riding a Mule—Where is He?
—Nowhere—Safe * * * * A 384
xiv. CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XLVIII.
CAPTURING A PARTISAN.
The Partisan's Record—Efforts to Take Him—A Discovery—Pursuit by Two
Men—A Rough Road—A Cold Bath and Its Results—Dashing Onward—
The Scent Lost—Another Finds It—The Capture—Return—Value of the
Prisoners—The Captor's Surprise......................................................... 395
CHAPTER XLIX.
COL, MENEFEE'S RIDE FOR LIFE.
The Partisans and Their Outfit—A Skirmish in the Woods—Federal Reinforce-
ments—Retreat of Confederates—Pursuit—The Mountain Side—For the Sake
of One of His Men—A Steep Descent—A Dash Down It.......................400
CHAPTER L.
DAHLGREN'S RAID.
The Object—Difference of Opinion—Organization of the Force—Dahlgren's
Record—Departure—A Heavy Storm—Failure to Co-operate—Skirmish near
Richmond—The Retreat—Crossing the Stream—Movements of the Confeder-
ates—The Ambush in the Woods—Death of Col. Dahlgren—Action of the
Confederate Government..................................................................... 405
CHAPTTER LI.
ADVENTURE OF FORAGERS.
Relaxing Discipline—Three Foragers—A Promising Barn—Captured — A Coun-
cil of War — Ten Minutes to Pray In — They Prefer to Pray Somewhere
Else — A Race and an Interested Spectator—Who Soon has a Race of His
Own–Escape-Revenge..................................................... ................ 414
CEIAPTER III.
ESCAPE FROM A FEDERAL STEAMER.
A Running Fight—Capture of the Officer—From One Prison to Another — Re-
assuring Sounds — The Queen City Disabled — The Fight Continued — A
Discussion between Engineers — The Guard Hoodwinked — A Lengthy
Swim—Eluding the Gunboats—Reaches the Confederate Pickets.............. 420
CHAPTER LIII.
Q BURNING THE ENEMY'S STORES.
The Situation — Safety of the Stores — A Daring Scout — Too Great a Tempta-
tion—Surprising the Guard—A Big Blaze—Pursuit—Escape................... 425
CHAPTER LIV.
GILMOR'S RAID INTO IMARYLAND.
The Force Promised—The Actual Force—Rapid Advance—Ishmael Day—An
Infuriated Command—Day's Concealment—Obstructing the Railroad — The
Train Destroyed – Important Prisoners — A Second Train — Burning the
Bridge–Cutting the Telegraph—To Baltimore— A Warm Reception — The
Committee of Reception is Bashful—And Well Mounted — Worn Out — A
Sleepy Set – “We're All a Nodding” — They Wake Up to an Unpleasant
Fact—Gen. Lee's Praise............. tº g º e º e g º º * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * e s a e e s e o see ee e 429
*
CONTENTS. XV
CHAPTER LW.
LIEUT. BADLEY'S EXPERIENCE.
Siege of Atlanta—A Mission of Danger—A Determined Charge — A Firm Re-
sistance—Captured—A Drunken Captor—“Fall in, Prisoners”—An Effort to
Escape – Retaken—The Bivouac.— Buried Alive—The Grave—Waiting—
Resurrection—A Friend—More Friends—In the “Quarters” — Jim—Setting
Out—A Young Scout—Who Proves Unreliable—“Tie-tickets” on the Rail-
road—Worn Out—Disappointment—Rest—A Sleepy Sentinel—Recaptured—
I'orebodings of Evil—Two Tete-a-tetes—A Plan—A Good Place to Die in—
The Funeral Arranged — Two Minutes to Pray — A Leap for Life — The
Pursuit—Wounded—A Friend in Need—Return Home.......................... 440
CEIAPTER LVI.
VISITING EIOME UNDER DIFFICULTIES.
A Disappointment, to Begin With—Determined to Go-Reluctance of Officer—
The Union Men of Tennessee—Tinker Dave Beatty–Tricking the Feder-
als—Capt. Guild's Plan—A Friend—Dangers of the Attempt—“Our” Men—
In Sight of Home—Reception—Departure — Fate of his Comrades — With
Friends............... • * > * > * ~ * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * c s e s e e s e s e s e e s • e s e s e a e o se e s e e s e e 9 © tº º º 'º e º 'º º tº e º 'º o º .......461
CEIAPTER LVII.
CAPTURED BY MOSBY.
Congratulations—Spencer Rifles–Congratulations Postponed—Col. Mosby —The
Auction—A Disgusted Darkey—Mosby's Defense of his Men — On to Rich-
mond — The Bivouac — Plans for Escape — A Charming View — A Slim
Chance—Scarce of Horses.—A Successful Ruse—“Now’s the Time, Boys"—
A Sudden Melee—The Enemy Scattered—The Flight—Concealment—Why
Wash Went for the Corn — Why He Hurried Back — “Looking out for
Yanks”—Finding Them........ 3 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * © e o 'º e º 0 tº e g º O e º 'º e º 'º º ſº e o e º O & e º ºs e e 472
CHAPTER LVIII.
- ARRESTING A. SMUGGLER.
Reasons for the Trade—The Efforts of the Police—The Military Authorities—
Going it Alone—A Green Soldier—A Surly Sailor—A Fine Boat—The Ar-
rest—A Combat of Will—He Concludes to Surrender—The Lumber Yard—
Completely Vanquished....................................................................... 488
CHAPTER LIX.
TWO OF THE BLACK HORSE CAVALRY.
Organization of the Corps—Circumstances of One Adventure—The Price of Liq-
uor—Honor Pledged—“As Easy as Lying”—A Part of the Price—The Rest
of It—An Important Prisoner—Gen. Stuart's Gallantry Tested—He Sees the
Joke—The Corps Disbanded.............................................. ................ 495
CHAPTER LX.
DESTRUCTION OF THE ALBEMLARLE.
Torpedoes—The Albemarle—Lieut. Cushing's Plan—The Expedition—Precau-
tions Adopted—The Journey—Defenses of the Ram—The Attack—Confusion
—The Launch— Disabled—Federals Captured—Lieut. Cushing's Narrow Es-
xvi. CONTENTS.
cape—Senseless on the Shore—Hears of His Own Death—Creeping Away—
Difficulties—The Swamp Road—An Astonished Darkey—A Satisfactory Re-
port—A Prize—Floating Down the Roanoke–Perplexed Marines — A Sur-
prise—Honor Claimed by Another Man—The Claim Disproved..............504
CEIAPTER LXI.
CONFEDERATES IN SHERIDAN'S CAMP. n
Necessity for Information — The Party — “One of Blazer's Scouts” — A Sleepy
IPicket—The End Accomplished—Another Trip—Confederate Votes for Lin-
coln — Issuing Orders to a Federal Officer— Blazer's Scouts in Reality — A
Hot Pursuit — Taking the Fence — Back to His Men — A Desperate Skir-
mish—After Events.............................................................. © tº e º 'º e º 'º e Q ....516
CHAPTER LXII.
AN ESCAPE FROM A TRAIN.
The Road — Removal of Prisoners—Carelessness of Guards—Heavy Rain — Es-
cape — Escape Discovered — Pursued — Baffling the Bloodhounds—The
Swamp—A Great Loss—Helped by the Negroes—A Scare—An Unexpected
IFriend—Reinforcements—Hope Deferred—A Surprise — A Battle—Flight—
Alone and Hopeless—Friends—Counting the Loss—Safe.............. ...........526
CEIAPTER LXIII.
A RAID FOR HORSES. -
A Mount Wanted— A Chance to Get One – Bad Weather—“A Thrifle Near-
er”—A Little too Near—Success—A Brick—A Charge and a Chase—A Fall
on the Ice—Another Prisoner—Riding Double—An Affecting (?) Farewell-
Bad Luck— A Call on the Ladies—War Toilets —The Dinner They Miss-
ed—The Dinner They Didn't Miss — A Good Time— A Rude Awakening—
Captured — Well Guarded — “Good Night” – A Prearranged Signal—“He
Hasn’t Escaped, but He's Going to”—And He Does—Chasing a Riderless
Horse — The Rider Escapes on Foot — Gen. Sherman's Opinion on Horses
and a Soldier's Mode of Procuring Them................................... © e º 'º e º e º 'º & 536
CHAPTER LXIV.
CAPTURE AND FLIGHT OF THE CORRESPONDENTS.
The Newspaper Man—Running the Confederate Batteries at Vicksburg—Captured—
Libby—Plans to Escape—Castle Thunder—Salisbury—Hurry Up—Change in
Management—A Forged Pass—Another Plan—An Apologetic Guard—Past the
Outer Guards—Prudent Halt—The Gray Mare—Cold Weather—Sable Friends
—Losing the Way—“The Old United States”—“Nobody Ever Gits Thar”—
The March across the Mountains—Dan Ellis, the Famous Guide—Generous
Enemies—Danger Threatens—A Pretty Guide—The Federal Pickets..........551
CHAPTER LXV.
TVWHEELER'S CAVALRY ESCAPADES.
Stage of the War—Gen. Wheeler's Determination—A Companion—Swimming the
IPeedee—An Uninvited Comrade—An Earnest Appeal—A Borrowed Name—
“Sam. Johnson”—A Hearty Welcome—Sam's Bashfulness—A Sudden Alarm—
CONTENTS. - xvii
Unfounded Anxiety—“Scare 'em out of their Boots”—Signs of the Enemy—
The Bugler—Retreat of the Enemy—Incidents of the Pursuit—Advance of Gen.
Hampton.......................... w w to e º º * * * * * * * * * *. ...— & 569
CHAPTER LXVI.
- DESTROYING THE ENEMY'S STORES.
The Deserter's Information—Wouldn’t be Outdone—The Invitation Accepted—
The Departure from Camp—Pompey's Distrust—At the Point Threatened—
Access to the House—Enemies Near—Caution—The Powder Securely Dis-
posed of— A Sudden Attack — A Desperate Struggle—Victory—Rapid Re-
treat-Pompey's Dismay........................................... tº e º 'º tº e º 'º e º º ºr ..579
CEIAPTER LXVII.
CAPTURING TWO GENERALS.
An Attractive Idea—Cumberland—How They Got the Countersign—Gathering in
the Reserves—“Scouts from New Creek”—No Time for Ceremony—A Faith-
ful Servant—“Sent Out to Reconnoiter”—Necessity for Haste—Pursued—
Escape With Prisoners—Recognition of Services.......... © e º e º e g º e e 590
CEIAPTER LXVIII.
IDETERMINED TO ESCAPE. -
A Spirited Engagement—A Victory Barren of Trophies—Disposition of the Prison-
ers—Prison Pastimes—Base Ball —“Opinions of the Press”—Better Sport—
Efforts to Escape—Tunneling—Failure—A Drunken Driver—Almost Free—
Recaptured—A Daring Plan—Scaling the Parapet—He Escapes—Almost in
Canada—Retaken by Farmers—Spirit Broken—Spirit Gets Mended—Busy at
Work—A Wonderful Achievement—“An Escape Planned”—Guards Doubled
—Strict Examination—Review of Inspecting Party—Discovery of Prisoner
Among Them — A Sensible and Generous Officer—Remanded to Prison —
P.IST OF PLLUSTRATIONS.
RESCUING THE ConDEMNED ScouTs,
“You’RE A YANKEE SPY,”
A HEADLONG PURSUIT,
THE FIGHT ON KELLEY’s IsIAND,
BURNING OF THE PRIVATEER,
CATCHING A TARTAR,
“MINE ISN'T,”
MAJOR ZAGONYI, e e
CHARGE of FREMONT's BoDY GUARD,
ATTACK ON ZAGONYI, º
“THERE's on LY Four of THEM,”
CUTTING THE TELEGRAPH WIREs,
THE PURsulT, º
EscAPED PRISONERS CAPTURED WITH BLooDHounds,
A HoRSE IN CHURCH,
“HI, UNCLE l’” º º
“STOP A MINUTE, won’T You?”
THE ScouT,
Four To ONE, º º º
“WHY Do YoU WEAR MEN’s Boots?”
PLAYING Possum,
THE DEFENSE,
THE CHARGE, º e
THE SPY AND THE BLOODHound,
“Do As I TELL You, AT onCE!”
BULL RUN BATTLE FIELD,
THE CANNONEER’s RIDE,
TURNING THE TABLEs,
THE MYSTERIOUS SIGNALs,
QUICK WoRK,
A CAVALRY CHARGE, .
RESCUING A CoMRADE,
GEN. EARL WAN DoRN,
WAN DoRN AND THE QUAKER, .
Full Page, Frontispiece.
Full Page,
Full Page,
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I61
I69
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175
178
I80
I88
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198
199
18
List of Illustrations.
xix
“WHAT DoES THIS MEAN, SIR 7” ©
PAULINE CUSHMAN,
A MIDNIGHT WISITOR,
GUERILLAS IN CAMP,
NEARING THE CHASM,
SHowING THE FoRD, º
GREEN’s CAPTURE OF THE Colors,
SEEKING A GUIDE,
GEN. J. E. B. STUART,
GEN. JoHN H. MoRGAN,
MoRGAN's RAIDERS,
HARASSED RAIDERS,
THE EscAPE, ©
TUNNING THE GAUNTLET,
OILING THE TRACK, . ©
“LIKE A SHOT PAST THE PICKET,”
PASSING THE PORT-HOLES,
Giving THE CountERSIGN,
THE STRUGGLE witH THE SENTRY,
BEERING INTO THE TENT,
FIRING THE ROCKETs,
THE INSANE DoDGE,
A LEAP FoR LIFE,
BoARDING THE WESSEL,
THE EXPLoSION of THE SHELL,
GEN. N. B. FoEREST,
THE FLIGHT, e
ExPLODING THE TorpEDo,
LIBBY PRISON,
PASSING THE GUARD, & • * >
IN HIDING, . © -
A SHOT FROM THE THICKET,
THE PICKETs TAKE A HAND,
AN INTRUDER IN THE ENGINE-RooM.
THE PRIsonER’s DREAM of Home,
DIAGRAM OF THE TUNNEL,
IN THE DEAD CELLAR,
A RUDE AwakENING, º º ©
THE MULE CHANGEs HIs MIND,
A CoID BATH, e e º .
CoL. MENEFEE’s RIDE, © ©
Full Page,
Full Page,
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211
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360
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368
372
375
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387
391
397
403
2
XX List of Illustrations.
GEN. H. J. KILPATRICK, . º •
CRossING THE RAPIDAN,
CoL. ULRIC DAHLGREN,
DEATH of DAHLGREN,
THE FORAGERS SURPRISED,
FLOATING BY THE GUNBoATs, .
BURNING THE STOREHOUSEs,
AN OBSTINATE UNIONIST,
“WHERE ARE THE PRISONERs?”
THE BURIAL,
THE RESURRECTION,
A SHORT SHRIFT,
STEALING BY THE PICKETs,
“ HALT—SURRENDER l’’
CoL. John S. MosBY,
“Now’s THE TIME, Boys!” . e
“DID ANY OF YOU EVER EAT ANY NEGRO
“Don’T You DARE To DRAW, SIR l’’
BLACK HoRSE CAVALRYMAN,
A REPAST DISTURBED, e
LIEUT. WILLIAM B. CUSHING,
DESTRUCTION OF THE ALBEMARLE,
A ConCEALED LISTENER,
MEETING THE DARKEY,
BEGUILED BY WHISKY,
A BAD JUMP,
HoMEwARD BOUND,
THE SURPRISE,
THE ToILET, e º
“SURROUNDED BY YANKEES l’’
THE SIGNAL–“Bon NIE Doon,” .
THE CATASTROPHE,
CASTLE THUNDER,
SALISBURY PRISON, Qº
DUSKY MINISTERING ANGELS,
FUGITIVEs CRossING THE BLUE RIDGE,
CAPT. DAN ELLIS,
GEN. WADE HAMPTON,
GEN. Joseph WHEELER, . o
“THE BEST SINGER IN THE ARMY,”
Following THE BUGLE, . º o
! »
Full Page,
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406
407
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List of Illustrations. xxi
\
PoMPEY's ANXIETY, . e º e . . 582
PUTTING THE REB IN THE WELL, © . Full Page, 586
GETTING THE CountERSIGN, . . & G . 592
OLD CAPITOL PRISON, º tº o º º 598
CHANGING CLOTHEs witH THE DRUNKEN Sold1ER, . 601
STONING THE GUARD, o º º º 603
º
22
“WHERE's Your CARTRIDGE Box?” . e ſo . 606
!NTRODUCTION.
“A tower before his native town
Be stood, and fell as fall the brave.
The conqueror wins the brighter crown,
, The conquered has the nobler grave.
He who brave life shall bravely close,
For home, and hearth, and altar slain,
If mourned by friends, shall glory gain
Out of the lips of foes.”
DEEDS OF DATERING
EY BOTH

BLUE AND GRAY.
£HAPTER I.
A PERSEVERING MESSENGER.
The Dispatch Bearers—Danger of the Mission—An Unlucky Meeting—The Messen-
ger Gets Left—Sent Back—Another Start—A More Unlucky Meeting—Court-
martialed by Guerillas—A Friend in Need—Sent Back Again—Irrepressible—A
Rendezvous in the Woods—Important Information—Why He Went Back—
Gives It Up.
T was the night of the 21st of April, 1861, when four men
took their seats on the train from the National Capital to
Annapolis. They held no communication with each other, and
any ordinary observer would have supposed them entire stran-
gers; but this was only an assumed manner, in order to increase
the chances of doing the work assigned to them. They were
Col. Lander, Maj. Welsh, Mr. Van Walkenburg and Commissary
Patton of the New York Seventh Regiment, and were charged
with dispatches of importance from Gen. Scott, then in com-
mand of the United States Army, to Gen. Butler. The mission
was fraught with peculiar danger and difficulty, as so many of
the Marylanders were ardent Secessionists; and the Union men
could not, at that early stage of the war, tell readily what
chance-met friend would turn out a foe. But the four with
whom we have to deal thought they were to be favored by for-
tune in this respect, as they reached the Junction without any
one of them having been recognized.
Such good fortune was not to last forever, though; for, as
the train drew up at the platform, and Mr. Patton, with the
23
24 A Persevering Messenger.
other passengers, stepped off the car, his hand was warmly
grasped by an old acquaintance.
“Why, how are you, Patton? I thought you were a National
Guard—what are you doing here 7”
“Oh, nothing in particular. You oughtn't to think so much.”
“Oughtn't to think so much? What do you mean?”
Mr. Patton quietly explained as much of the real state of
affairs as was necessary and not imprudent; but the mischief
was already done. In those days there were men always ready
to play the spy over another's actions, to gain in an underhand
and surreptitious manner knowledge having a market price;
and although few officers were willing to hold any converse with
such men, there were some who held that all things were fair in
war. One of these informers had happened to overhear the
bluff greeting, and lost no time in conveying the fact that a mem-
ber of the National Guard was in town.
Mr. Patton strolled toward the Annapolis train with his friend,
little suspecting that any note had been taken of that friend’s
words. But the suspicion had spread rapidly, and when he
went to the hotel, to find when the train would start, he was put
off by evasive answers to that simple question; they had no time
table up to date—thought it would go in fifteen minutes—and the
speaker appealed to a bystander. Mr. Patton was about to re-
monstrate somewhat angrily, when he saw the train, some forty
or fifty yards from him, move off. At the same time he was
approached by a resident of the town, whom he afterwards
found to be a prominent lawyer there.
“What is your business in town, sir?” this individual asked.
“It is not with you, sir,” replied Mr. Patton, as politely as
the meaning of his words would permit.
“But mine is with you; you are suspected of being a spy.”
“I am no spy, but a messenger from the War Department at
Washington to the commandant at Annapolis.”
The stranger bowed and withdrew ; but only a few feet; from
the new position he signaled to the captain of a militia com-
pany that was drilling a short distance away. The drill was
interrupted, and the entire force marched towards them. The
captain stepped up to Mr. Patton and demanded his business.
“I am a messenger from the Secretary of War to the Command-
ant at Annapolis. I do not understand why you question me;
are you an officer of the United States ?”
A Persevering Messenger. 25
“I am in command of the militia volunteering for home pro-
tection. We are not United States soldiers.”
“I was not aware that this state had seceded. In any event,
I demand that you treat me as a prisoner of war, for I am an
officer of the United States Government.”
A little cowed by the prisoner’s resolute tone, the officer
withdrew to hold a council of war with two or three of his sub-
ordinates. The conference was a short one; all had heard every-
thing that had been said, and had been affected in the same way.
After a moment the captain turned again to Mr. Patton :
“Well,” he said, “you can’t go on, anyhow ; you’ve got to
go back to Washington. We’ll send you back in a wagon.”
“Very well,” replied Mr. Patton; “I suppose your wagon is
not ready yet? I’ll walk along the road until it overtakes me.”
This was assented to ; but if he had any hopes of escaping
from them in that way, and continuing his journey, they were
doomed to disappointment, for the wagon overtook him in a
very short time, and he was driven to the outposts of Washing-
ton. But, although he had not objected to their arrangements
when he was in the hands of the militia, he had no notion of
carrying out their plans any farther than necessity compelled.
So that the wagon was hardly out of sight when he turned to re-
trace his steps, hoping to reach Annapolis by a road which did
not lead through the Junction. Being very tired, he felt that he
would be unable to proceed much farther, when he was over-
taken by a farmer driving home. The offer of a dollar for a
“lift,” was gladly accepted, and Mr. Patton slept in the bottom
of the wagon until the countryman arrived at his destination.
Once more on foot, he must find a guide, that the journey
might be accomplished as speedily as possible; and was fortun-
ate enough to overtake a boy who agreed, “for a consideration,” .
to act in that capacity. Everything appeared to go well upon
this second start, and he began to hope that his progress would
not again be interrupted. But as they turned into the main
road, they were met by a half-drunken fellow armed to the
teeth, who ordered them to “hold on, there.”
“Who are you?” he demanded.
“My name is Moore,” replied Patton, anxious that his real
name and errand should not be known to the guerillas, of whom
this fellow was evidently one.
“Where (hic) you going to ?”
26 A Persevering Messenger.
“I’m going to Annapolis, to collect some money due me
there.”
The questioner eyed him critically for a moment, and Patton
thought that suspicion would fail to get into that befuddled
brain, when the guerilla broke out with :
“Say, I don’t (hic) b'lieve a d-d word o’ that. You're a
Yankee spy; tha's wha’ y’are.”
“I have told you my name and business,” said Mr. Patton firmly;
“now let me pass.”
º N, “Won’t let any
- Sºğl
㺠\{º} d—d Yankee spy
& S à à. º pass. You’ve got to
§§§ § §A.Yº, Zºº o o
-ºw sº ſº jº Nº. § (hic) come with me
22.4%º §§§º, SºYXNº.
sº jº ... ." § º ". to t a vern. Co me
§§f *ś 'long, now.”
º ºjºſjliºs § 8, º
§§§ §§§ If the messenger
Fº a º
had spoken firmly,
his waylayer showed
signs of stubbornness
such as is only to be
seen in a man some-
thing more than half-
• *_º seas-over; and know-
“You’re a Yankee Spy.” ing that a shot, or
any other a lar m,
would speedily call a larger force to the ground, Mr. Patton
decided to go to the tavern, hoping to escape on the way, or
to find that his captor had no reinforcements there except
liquor. But, unfortunately, his calculations were based on
false grounds; and he found several other guerillas there, all
fully armed, and all as drunk as his captor. The latter announ-
ced that he had taken a prisoner, and the whole company was
speedily resolved into a court martial.
“Gen’lm’n, 'fore we proceed ter c'nsideration (hic) this case,
le's have 'nother drink all round.”
“I move to 'mend—two drinks.”
The drinks were accordingly ordered and discussed. The
captor was called as witness. -
“Court martial’s always held in writing—too much trouble in .
this case for such a fellow’s that. Where'd you ketch him?”
“Down't the fork; he’s a spy.”



















A Persevering Messenger. 27
“Then he ought to be shot,” decided the first, who acted as
chief of the judges, and appeared to have some kind of author-
ity over the others.
“”Taint so,” growled a third ; “hang him, if he’s a spy.”
“Don’ know,” remarked a fourth, who appeared to be less
drunk than the others; “better lock him up.”
Number five had been nodding over his empty glass; but now
awakened with a start, and sagely remarked that they had bet-
ter take another drink on it. The wisdom of this decision was
so apparent that there was no argument following it, and the
liquor was unanimously called for. But if before they had
had any idea of prudence, or of obedience to the laws of war, it
was washed completely away as the fiery stuff was gulped down;
and in a moment more they were all resolved to hang the spy.
A rope was procured, and the prisoner, who saw no possibility
of escape, was marched out into the yard. The rope was ad-
justed over the limb of a tree with as much skill as if the mem-
bers of the court martial had occasionally assisted Judge Lynch,
and the preparations were complete.
“Hallo! What are you doing there 7” asked a horseman, who
had ridden up while they were making their few rude arrange-
ments.
“Going to hang a d-d Yankee spy,” was the answer, in a
tone in which obstinacy and deference were curiously mingled.
“Fall back l’’ was the authoritative command ; and the horse-
man, as soon as his order was obeyed, approached Mr. Patton,
and said :
“I know you; you are a member of the National Guard; I
drank with you in Baltimore. Where were you going when
they captured you ?”
“To Annapolis.”
“On your own business, or that of the United States Govern-
ment 7”
“That of the Government.”
“Well, I can’t allow you to go on ; that would be inconsistent
with my duty as commander of this district; but if you will give
me your word of honor that you will go straight back to Wash-
ington, I will release you.”
Patton, glad to be released on any conditions from the drunk-
en set who had held him prisoner, readily consented to do this,
and was soon retracing his steps a second time. He arrived at
28 A Persevering Messenger.
Washington without further adventure, and reported the failure
of his efforts to Gen. Scott. In the capital he learned that three
colleagues with whom he had set out, had been no more success-
ful than himself, having been arrested and sent back before they
reached Annapolis. -
But he was not thus to be baffled ; he had made two efforts
and failed ; and with faith in the magic of the mystic number,
he determined to try the third time. His parole, of course, did
not bind him to any course of action, except the direct return to
Washington ; he had re-entered the capital in accordance with
his promise, and had reported to the general in command of the
forces there; he was then free to enter upon any other work,
and he chose to make the attempt once more.
Eſe next disguised himself completely, and in company with
a friend who owned a very fast team, drove out of the capital in
a buggy. The object of the trip was to search for a stolen horse;
and every one whom they met was questioned as to whether he
had seen the animal in question. Strangely enough, no one had
seen any traces of such a stray horse as the two described, and
they drove onward. Their ruse forbade their traveling by
night; so, as darkness came on, they stopped at a tavern for
Supper, lodging and breakfast. Having duly refreshed the in-
ner man, the two retired to the room assigned them. But Pat-
ton, in order to gain time, decided to push through on foot.
It was important, however, that this movement should not be
known to the people in the house until the next morning; so he
departed by stealth, when they supposed he had gone to bed;
his companion remaining to take the buggy and horses back to
Washington. He made his way to the woods, fearing that on the
road he might be stopped ; and journeyed to a considerable dis-
tance without meeting with any adventure. But now the sound
of horses’ feet were heard and the voices of men. He hastily
concealed himself; and all his haste was needed ; he had scarce-
ly a moment to spare before they were within a few feet of his
hiding-place. There, much to his dismay, they halted, and were
soon joined by two or three other parties that came from differ-
ent quarters. It was evidently a rendezvous, but whether of
guerillas or regularly enlisted Confederates, he could not tell.
“Where's the Seventh, now?” asked one who appeared to
have the authority of a commanding officer.
“Embarked on the Washington train this evening,” said one.
A Persevering Messenger. 29
“Is that bridge all right?”
“Yes, sir,” replied another; the nuts are all off the bolts;
the train is bound to go down.” .
This was evidently the chief thing to be reported, and in a
little time the whole body moved off. Creeping from his hiding-
place as soon as they were far enough away to render it safe,
Patton hastened back to the hotel and aroused his companion.
Together they started towards the bridge which had been so
tampered with, intending to prevent the passage of the train.
His effort in this case was successful, for the train was not quite
due when they arrived at the end of the bridge, and many lives
were saved by the timely warning.
The third effort to get to Annapolis was now foiled; for, even
if his identity and business were not known at the hotel, he had
at least aroused suspicion by leaving with his friend in the mid-
dle of the night. Then, too, he was utterly worn out by the three
attempts, having driven eighty miles and walked thirty in the
thirty hours. So after three distinct efforts to perform the task
assigned him, he was finally obliged to turn it over to others,
with only the consolation of a duty bravely attempted, though
baffled by circumstances.
£HAFTER II.
ZOUAVES ON A SCOUT.
Ready to Move—Spoiling for a Fight—Reconnoitering—Returning—Three to One—
“We'll Back You”—A Surprise—ASkedaddle—A Brisk Engagement—AIRapid
Retreat—The Spoils of the Battle—Caring for the Wounded—Another Surprise
—A Strong Position—A Desperate Defense—A Hand-to-Hand Encounter—
Terrible Odds—Every Man for Himself—Help Comes Too Late—Marks of the
Fight.
OLONEL WATLACE, in command of the Zouaves at Cum-
berland, in 1861, was accustomed to post his mounted scouts
at different points along the approaches to that place ; but, hav-
ing failed, on the 27th of that month, to obtain some very neces-
sary information of the enemy’s movements, he determined to
employ these men in a body as a reconnoitering party. There
were but thirteen of the men, but they were the pick of nine
different companies, and constant practice for a number of
months had made them valuable and efficient in their peculiar
line of duty. Accordingly he sent for one of them, D. B. Hay
by name.
“Corporal Hay, do you know where Frankfort is?”
“Yes, sir; it's on the pike between here and Romney.”
“Very well; you will take the twelve other scouts as your
command, and go to Frankfort and find out if there are any
rebels there. Start immediately.”
Hay saluted and turned away to collect his men. The latter
part of the order was not difficult to obey, for the scouts, accus-
tomed as they were to be suddenly called on for active service
on such expeditions as this, were soon ready. Canteens and
haversacks were hastily filled, and strapping their rifles to their
backs, the twelve men mounted their horses, much the worse for
30
Zouaves on a Scout. 31
hard service, but the only animals that were available, while
their officer bestrode the only steed worthy of his master, that
belonged to the command—a trophy of a skirmish a few days be-
fore. Notwithstanding the broken-down condition of their
mount, however, there were no laggards in the little party that
rode out of Cumberland that June morning; nor did the gen-
eral opinion of their comrades, that Hay was spoiling for a fight
and wouldn’t come back until he had had one, deter them. To
men of their bold and dashing courage such a prediction was
not a check, but a spur.
Onward they rode, until, as they drew rein on a small emin-
ence, the little village of Frankfort lay in full view. Along the
one crooked street, the mere widening of the road that led to
and from the town, were scattered the houses of various grades,
from the substantial brick mansion of the merchant or lawyer
or doctor down to the rough and fragile frame cottage of the
laborer. Along the street, too, standing talking in groups,
walking slowly along, or lounging before the stores, were many
Confederate infantrymen; while the number of horses picketed
near the town showed that there must be a considerable force
of cavalry there. Not for an instant did the men who, from the
grove-crowned summit of the hill, looked upon the scene, think
of the danger to themselves; that was always the last consider-
ation. There was merely a sigh of regret that, independently
of the enemy’s numbers, they must ride away without attacking;
for they must return, with the information they had obtained,
to Col. Wallace. As soon, then, as they had each made a care-
ful estimate of the enemy’s numbers, and, comparing them, found
them to agree with each other, they turned their horses and
rode leisurely back to Cumberland.
For some reason they chose to return by a different road than
that by which they had reached Frankfort; nor does this choice
admit of any reasonable explanation; it was by no means the
“shortest way home,” but, on the contrary, rather the “longest
way round;” there was no real necessity for them to explore it,
as they would probably never be sent that way again; and there
was no ground for believing it safest. Far from it. They had
reached a point between three and four miles distant from
Frankfort, and were descending a steep mountain side, when a
sharp turn of the road suddenly showed a considerable body
of Confederate cavalrymen not far from them. Instantly all
32 Zouaves on a Scout.
drew rein, as if they were but puppets worked by the same piece
of mechanism; and though there had been no word of command
uttered, each proceeded, as the little party halted, to count the
men before them.
“How many do you make of them, Hollenback 7” asked Hay.
“Forty-one,” answered the man, whom he had addressed. Hay
looked around the group questioningly, and each man nodded
as the leader's eye met his ; each had reached the same result.
“Well?” he asked, briefly. -
“Go in, Dave ; we’ll back you,” was the reponse of one,
echoed in the same silent way, and emphasized by a grim Smile
on each bronzed face.
“Are you ready, now 7” he asked.
“Yes, ready for anything; go on, and we’ll follow,’
reply, as they unslung their rifles.
“Come on, then, and the devil take the hindmostl” cried
Hay, as, setting spurs to his horse, he dashed down the decline.
On rode the Zouaves after their leader, at a speed as nearly
headlong as the character and condition of their horses would
permit. Though so far outnumbered, the Federals were not
without advantages which somewhat counterbalanced the supe-
rior force of the enemy. The road was but narrow, and, as we
have said, on sloping ground, the Federals being somewhat
above the Confederates; an abrupt declivity on their left and a
nearly precipitous wall ascending on their right would prevent
the formation of a line of battle by the Southerners, who would
not have room even to wheel their horses and charge up hill at
the handful of men who proposed to attack them. The situation
of the Zouaves was one in which the renowned Davy Crockett
would have gloried, for to “go ahead,” was the one course pos-
sible. Even if they halted, danger more than ordinary awaited
them, for the impetus acquired in their rapid descent would car-
ry the Federals into the very midst of the enemy.
As Hay came thundering down the hill, shouting to his men,
the Confederates, until then in blissful ignorance of an enemy's
presence, halted, surprised, to look back. The assailants were
not more than seventy or eighty yards away, and were rapidly
approaching. Never once supposing anything but that there
was a large force about to attack them, and recognizing the dif-
ficulties of their position, the Rebs put spurs to their horses
and galloped hastily onward in no very good order. The Zou-
y
y
was the
Zouaves on a Scout. 33
aves, who had hitherto, save for the brief answers given their
leader, preserved a grim silence, now vied with each other in
the wild yells which they uttered. Onward, onward, they rode,
these grim huntsmen of human game, and their cries, echoed
and re-echoed by the hill-sides, grew more and more unearthly.
Owing solely to the superiority of his mount—for they every
one rode recklessly—Hay was far in advance of his men. The
Confederates had not quite reached the foot of the hill when he
overtook them, firing his rifle when almost in their midst. As
one of the Confederates reeled in the saddle, he hurled the now
useless weapon (for he had, of course, no time to reload) at a
second; the Reb, stunned by the force of the blow, fell ; but
Hay, without waiting to see the result, drew his revolver and
plunged into their midst. For a minute or two the bullets flew
hither and thither; as a gray-jacket was pierced by one from
Hay's pistol, another struck the Federal ; maddened by the
thought that the wound might be fatal, he fired again with the
same deadly aim as before; then another, and another, before a
second struck him. Two more shots and his revolver was ex-
hausted. Drawing his sabre-bayonet, he prepared to use that,
when, with a flash in the sunlight and a whir of swift motion, a
sabre, in the hands of a Confederate behind him, descended up-
on his own head. Still, weakened as he was and half-blinded by
the blood which soon began to flow over his face from this cut,
he thrust to right and left most manfully.
It was the commanding officer of the Confederates who had
dealt the sabre cut. Hauling back for a fresh blow, he at the
very instant that his hand began to descend, received a wound
in the arm that paralyzed its power. The ball came from the
rifle of a Zouave, Lewis Farley, who had just reached the scene
of battle in time to see his officer's danger. Still advancing with
unchecked speed, he was unhorsed by the encounter; but the
accident did not render him useless. Grappling with the enemy
who had been similarly served by his onset, there was for a
moment a desperate struggle; at last the Federal was thrown.
But by this time the whole of Hay’s little force had come up, and
before the Confederate could make use of his advantage over
Farley, another Zouave, Hollowell, had knocked him down.
Springing to his feet, Farley vaulted into the saddle of a horse
that Hay’s revolver had made riderless, and that far surpassed
the one from which he had been thrown.
. 34 Zouaves on a Scout.
So sudden had been the onset, so sharp had been the conflict,
that the Confederates were still uncertain as to the number at-
tacking them; while the irregular but headlong advance of the
Zouaves made it appear as if they had dropped from the clouds.
How long it might rain fighting devils clad in big breeches and
small caps, they could not tell; and thinking discretion the bet-
ter part of valor, they put spurs to their horses and continued
the flight which Hay’s solitary onset had arrested. Madly down
the hill they rushed, until the track of the Baltimore and Ohio
Railroad was reached; then along the road-bed, with something
like the speed a horseman might use if chased by a locomotive
in a tunnel, they dashed away.
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--_- ****- */e/-,-
A Headlong Pursuit.
But even at that early day in the history of the war, the im-
portance of this line of railroad was fully appreciated, and there
had been an effort made to stop travel on it. A culvert had been
burned by some marauding party, whether Northern or South-
ern is uncertain and unimportant; certainly the fact that it had
been so destroyed was not known to either of the two parties
whose fortunes we are now following. The Confederates,
indeed, did not discover the gap in the road until it was too late
to check their horses; they must take the leap. Spurring their













































Zouaves on a Scout. 35
animals to yet greater speed, that the added impetus might in-
crease their chances of safety, they plunged on. Many reached
the farther side in safety, but eight, wounded, or less excellently
mounted than their comrades, failed to gain the roadway again;
and falling heavily into the rugged chasm, were either crushed
under their horses or killed by the force of the fall.
Hay, wounded as he was, was the foremost in the pursuit, and
to him, as to the Confederates, the dangerous leap was unavoid-
able. His spirited horse, however, carried him safely over; but
the noble animal had received in his body more than one bullet
meant for his master, and weakened by loss of blood and by the
severe exertion to which he had been subjected, had borne his
rider but a short distance from the culvert when a deadly tremor
passed through every limb, and he fell dead upon the earth. Hay
had barely time to extricate himself from his stirrups before the
horse fell. Thus deprived of his only means for pursuing the
fugitives, and unable, by reason of his wounds, to drag himself
onward, he sat down upon the ground beside the dead horse, and
cried like a child over its loss.
The scouts, seeing the dangers of the leap across the burnt
culvert in time to check their horses, turned aside from the road
a little and by a slight detour were enabled to reach their
wounded comrade without incurring the risk. Of course pur-
suit was now useless; so they devoted themselves to taking care
of the spoils. Seventeen good horses, in fair condition, with all
their equipments, had been the reward they had earned by their
brave attack; while eleven of the Confederates lay dead upon
the ground. Congratulating themselves upon the brilliant vic-
tory which they had achieved, they set their leader upon one of
the captured horses, each man selected one in place of his own
broken-down steed, and they continued their journey to the
town of Cumberland.
“Boys,” faltered their officer, in a weak voice, when they were
but a few miles from the scene of conflict; “Boys, I’m getting
so weak I don’t believe I can go any farther.”
“Can’t you hold out to Cumberland 7 'Tisn’t much farther.”
“It’s a long way off for me, for I can hardly manage to sit my
horse—”
The words had been spoken firmly, though the voice was low
and weak; but the resolution at last gave way before the deathly
faintness that came over him, and only the quick, strong arm
8
36 - 20tuaves on a Scout.
of one of his men saved him from falling from the saddle. This
was unmistakable evidence that they must stop. Dismounting,
they laid the wounded man upon the grass, where the thick
foliage kept the sun’s rays from proving annoying; two went to
find a wagon at some neighboring farm house, another went to
the river for water, while the others busied themselves in bind-
ing up his wounds as well as possible with the rude bandages
they could prepare, and in otherwise attending to his comfort.
But even while they were engaged in this humane task, a brisk
fire was opened upon them from the hill to their left. Fortu-
nately, Hay had recovered his senses under the liberal applica-
tion of the cold water, and was somewhat strengthened by a
draught from his canteen.
“Put me on a horse, boys, and leave me to take care of my-
Self.”
His desire was complied with, and clinging painfully to the
saddle, lying down upon the neek of his horse—for he was still
too weak to sit upright—he forded the Potomac in safety. The
first thought of the Zouaves, after securing the escape of their
wounded leader, was for the horses that they had captured in
such an unequal fight; and the delay occasioned in getting all
of them together proved dangerous to the soldiers.
“Let the horses alone, and give the Rebels h-l l’” thundered
Farley, as he saw the uselessness of the attempt, and the design
of the enemy. Evidently, the Confederates, having a much
superior force, were trying to surround the Federals. The lat-
ter now numbered but ten, for Baker and Dunlap, who had been
sent for the wagon, had not yet returned. Of them we shall
hear later. -
“Tain’t any use, boys,” said Farley, at last, “we can’t stay
here, or they’ll get us sure.” -
The crack of his rifle followed this observation.
“What are we to do?” asked another, as he rammed the ball
home. .
“It’s a pretty slim chance, but if we could get to the big rocks
yonder, the river 'd be between us and them.”
“How are we to get there?”
“Make a rush for the island.”
They were on the point of land projecting between the Poto-
mac on the one side and Patterson’s Creek on the other. The
bowlders were not on high ground, but would answer admirably
r —-
Zouaves on a Scout. 37
for breastworks. The stones, washed naked by the stream,
almost wholly covered the surface of Kelley's Island. At a given
signal, then, they made a break for the stream, and amid a shower
of bullets from the enemy, who saw the wisdom of the attempt,
they gained the coveted position.
“All right, boys? Anybody hurt?”
“All as sound as new fifty-cent pieces.”
“Not whipped yet, not by a long shot.”
“Be careful of the cartridges; they’ll soon be getting mighty
scarce.”
Crouching behind the rocks, they waited ; each man with eager,
gleaming eyes and set teeth, his finger ready to dispatch the
messenger of death as soon as there was a certainty that it
would reach an enemy. It surely could not be difficult for their
force to dislodge such a handful of men, thought the Confeder-
ates; and, rushing down from the hill like an avalanche, they
swept across the little plain, and the foremost man was in the
Stream.
“Whew, boys more than seventy; let them have it now.”
Almost with one report, the rifles were discharged; the man
in the stream threw his arms above his head and fell backwards
as his feet lost their hold on the bed of the creek; the water
grew dark around him as he went down ; here and there, in the
mass of men upon the land who were about to follow him into
the water, one would fall; another would stagger a moment as if
bending beneath a heavy load; and then would turn and retreat
toward the shelter of the grove as rapidly as the nature of his
wound would permit. Hardly a bullet of the ten failed to take
effect; and surprised by the excellent marksmanship of the men
they were about to attack, the Confederates halted irresolutely a
moment, then turned and fled to the nearest shelter. When
each was protected by the trunk of a tree, by a bush, the side
of a ravine, or some such natural object, as the Federals were
by the rocks, there began that most exciting kind of combat
known to the soldier—sharpshooting. As one man exposed him-
self in order to take aim at an enemy, half a dozen pairs of eager
eyes would mark him, and before his own ball was sped, five or
six others would come whistling past his ears.
So the fight went on for more than an hour, and at last the
river was again reddened; but not with blood this time; it was
but the reflection of the clouds about the setting sun. As the
38 Zouaves on a Scout.
sky faded, the Confederates received a reinforcement of a small
party of horsemen. The shower of shots from the island soon
warned the new-comers that, raised so far above the level of the
ground, they were in the greatest danger, and they speedily
dismounted. One of them, who appeared to be an officer of con-
siderable rank, and who afterward proved to be a brother of the
famous Col. Turner Ashby, took command; and seemingly in-
sensible to all danger, walked coolly from point to point arrang-
ing an attack that should be more successful than the first that
had been made on the island.
“Hold your fire, men, until we see what they are going to
do,” commanded Farley, intently watching the movements of the
enemy. *
But they were not left in doubt many minutes. As it seemed
to them, looking through the gathering darkness from behind the
rocks, the Confederates sprang from their coverts at a given
signal and made a rush for the stream. Onward they came.
“Now let them have it,” cried Farley.
And at the word there were ten flashes of fire from behind the
rocks; only one or two reports, for the discharge was almost
instantaneous; men in the river groaned and sank; men about to
plunge into the water sprang back and fell, each “with his face
to the sky and his feet to the foe; ” men behind them looked
around more than doubtfully. Only the leader seemed resolute;
but, as is often the case, one man’s courage was sufficient to re-
animate many. The Federals, in the confusion, could not dis-
tinguish what he said ; probably his own men could not; but the
former felt that they now had a foeman worthy of their steel,
and the latter followed him, pressing close in his footsteps, right
up to where the rocky shores of the island rose from the water's
edge.
The fight was now hand to hand. Despite their losses, the
Confederates were still strong—at least six or seven to one.
Against such terrible odds at such close quarters, it was madness
to fight; yet the Zouaves fought on with the strength and cour-
age born of despair. The night darkened over the conflict, and
in place of the white smoke that had wreathed the muzzles of
rifles and revolvers, there were flashes of fire; that was all
the change that the darkness brought. The noise of the shots,
the shouts and curses of the combatants, made night hideous.
Still the Zouaves fought on, feeling that the one thing left to
Zouaves on a Scout. 39
them was to sell their lives as dearly as possible; fought in-
stinctively, as the leopard struggles to free himself from the
deadly coil of the anaconda.
Had the light of day shone upon them it would have seen
strange pictures; pictures terrible to look upon, so full of ani-
mal ferocity they were. There is something grand in the thought
of thousands of men laying aside their daily work, going to
fight, perhaps to die, for the right; but follow those men to the
battle field, and the moral heroism has vanished ; the sacrifice
has been made, and is over; they are mere bull-dogs, game-cocks,
urged on to each other's destruction by the command of another
animal, called an officer. O, it is a horrible thing to see men
fighting as these fought there, in the darkness, upon the rocky
island, with the river flowing so peacefully around them 1
Before long, Farley found himself in direct combat with the
Confederate officer; the duel had lasted some minutes, now one,
now the other, gaining a slight advantage, but it seemed about
to result in the defeat of the Federal, when another of the Zou-
aves, Hollowell, perceiving his leader’s danger, hastily swung
his rifle at the Rebel’s head. The blow was a heavy one, and
the Confederate, without a groan, fell dead at the feet of his late
antagonist.
“D—n it,” was Hollowell’s brief comment, “it’s ruined my
rifle,” and stooping down an instant, he possessed himself of the
dead man’s revolvers.
A third Zouave, Thomas, had fired twice with deadly aim, and
was just in the act of reloading when a pistol ball grazed his
head, knocking him senseless. As he fell to the earth, the Con-
federate who had fired the shot, fearing it might be ineffectual,
had drawn his saber, and was about to finish the work so well
begun, when a comrade of the wounded man fired upon him.
The blade gleamed in his hand a moment, then fell to the ground
as his grasp relaxed, and in an instant more his dead body lay
across the unconscious form of Thomas. Such were some of
the scenes that might have been seen, could the sun have suddenly
lighted up the darkness. Knowing that Hollenback had fallen,
and supposing that Thomas had been killed, the Zouaves began
each to think of saving himself, if it were possible. One after
the other, under cover of the darkness, the eight survivors
plunged into the stream and swam away from the scene of car-
nage. The enemy, finding what they were endeavoring to do,
40 Zouaves on a Scout.
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Zouaves on a Scout. 41
gave chase; but before long decided that the fugitives were
too much scattered for them to pursue with advantage.
They accordingly returned to Kelley's Island, in order to bury
their dead and care for their wounded. Thomas, whose senses
had now returned, crawled into a little thicket of bushes and
vines as he realized the state of affairs. Thence he could see
the dead bodies carried away, thence he could hear their every
Word.
“Hallo! here's a Yank!”
“Alive or dead 7 °
“Alive; come get out o' this.”
“I can’t; I’m wounded,” murmured Hollenback, faintly.
“Get out ’o this, I say ; can’t you understand English 7”
The command was uttered so threateningly, and accompanied
by such a show of force, that the wounded Zouave dragged him-
self slowly and painfully to his feet, and, still at the point of
the bayonet, waded the narrow stream. Thomas lay in the
bushes unseen, unsuspected, until the last Confederate had dis-
appeared ; then he crept out, and, by wading and Swimming,
succeeded in reaching the opposite bank of the Potomac.
The two men who had been sent for the wagon had heard the
earliest shots of the second fight, and knowing that since there
were so many fired, there must be a considerable force opposed
to their comrades, galloped off to the camp for reinforcements.
Fifty men were immediately detailed to go to the rescue; but
such was the enthusiasm excited by the report of the two mes-
sengers, that the force was swelled to four times that number
before it had left the town. Fast as they could go, the progress
of the fight had been so rapid that, when they arrived at the
field of battle, there was no one there. Stains of blood upon the
smooth white rocks, guns lying where they had fallen from the
dying hands, broken pistols that had been thrown angrily away
—these were the traces that remained of the desperate fight.
Beturning to camp, they told the story of what they had seen.
It was then late at night; early the next day, a larger force,
consisting of two companies, were sent to search for the living
and to bury the dead. But this detachment met with but little
more success than the former. The body of Hollenback, which
the Confederates had left behind them in their flight, and eight
of the horses the party had captured, were all that they brought
back to camp with them. But perhaps the best part of their
42 Zouaves on a Scout.
success was the information they obtained that the Confederates
had carried off twenty-three bodies of their comrades, besides
those who were shot while in the water, and drowned.
One after another, all through the afternoon of the 28th, the
scouts came into camp, heartily welcomed by citizens and
soldiers, until all had reported. Singularly enough, only Hay
and Thomas were wounded; the latter very slightly. Of the
others, one had had his cap shot from his head, and had replaced
it by the broad-brimmed soft felt of an enemy; another had
three bullet-holes through his shirt; Farleys' sabre had been
shivered to the hilt, and that and the scabbard were all that re-
mained; Hollowell held on to his broken rifle, while he proud-
ly delivered the captured pistols to Col. Wallace.
“Keep them for your own use, Hollowell,” said the officer;
“you have won them nobly, defending your comrade in his dan-
ger. I know that you will use them well in the defense of our
country.”
But the enthusiasm of soldiers and townspeople gave way to
sorrow when the body of the one man killed was brought back
to town; with measured, solemn step, and muffled roll of drums,
they bore his body to the town cemetery;
“Slowly and sadly they laid him down,
From the field of his fame, fresh and gory!
They carved not a line, they raised not a stone,
But they left him alone in his glory.”
£HAFTER III.
PURNING A PRIVATEER.
Affairs at Pensacola—Setting Out—Their Presence Discovered—The Wessel Boarded
—The Fight—The Retreat—The Burning Wessel—Cut Loose From Her Moor-
ings—Drifts Out to Sea—A Grand Sight.
S might be supposed from the geography of the state,
much of the war in Florida was upon its waters. One of
the most important points in the beginning of the struggle was
the Navy Yard, at Pensacola, with the fort, which in ordinary
times served as its defense. But, at the time of which we write,
the Navy Yard was in the possession of the Confederates, while
a strong Federal force garrisoned Fort Pickens; the latter being
supported by a blockading squadron. Gen. Bragg had an army
of eight thousand men, encamped so near that there could be no
communication held between the blockaders and the garrison;
and a force of one thousand men were stationed as a guard in
the Navy Yard.
For there was in that place property almost invaluable to the
Confederacy. When, on the day after the Legislature of Flor-
ida had passed the Ordinance of Secession, the Navy Yard had
been seized for the use of the state, there had been found there
more than $150,000 worth of ordnance stores. But this was not
all. The Confederacy was entirely without a navy; and here
were means, if not of building vessels, of fitting out those which
might be or had been captured. Such was the state of affairs
when, in the early fall of 1861, the Federal naval officers, sta-
tioned in the harbor of Pensacola, discovered that the enemy
was fitting out a schooner to prey upon the commerce of the
TJnited States.
43
44 Burning a Privateer.
The Alabama had not yet become the terror of the seas; but
with a prophetic instinct of what would be, these officers re-
solved that the vessel in question must be destroyed. An expe-
dition was accordingly planned, in all its details, by the fiag-
officer and captain of the Colorado, and Lieut. Russell named as
the commander of the force to be sent. Of the efforts made to
carry out that plan, and the degree of success attained, it is our
present business to tell.
It was between three and four o’clock on the morning of Sept.
14th, 1861, that four launches, each containing about twenty-five
men, moved away from the blockading fleet, near Santa Rosa
Island. With measured stroke the men pulled for the main-
land, for the Navy Yard, two miles away. Their oars were
muffled; the night was a dark one ; and they were near the
wharf before their presence was discovered by the enemy.
There was a heavy guard on board the schooner, and a field
piece and battery on shore were so placed as to command the
approach to the vessel by sea. Such precautions, it would seem,
ought to be sufficient protection.
The watch descried, through the darkness, the launches ap-
proaching the schooner, and at once gave the alarm. The guard
was on the alert, and as soon as it was perceived that the new
comers did not intend to reply to the challenge of the watch, a
volley of musketry was fired. But even this failed to bring the
launches to ; the men only bent to their oars with the more en-
ergy, as one or two in each boat bent forward, wounded unto
death. In a moment more, they were close alongside the ves-
sel, and had grappled to her. The leader was first to spring up
her side.
“Board her l” he shouted, as with cutlass in one hand and a
flaming torch in the other, he led the way.
An officer who says “Go l’’ may find his men lacking in enthu-
siasm; but one who says “Come!” rarely lacks followers. It
was so in this case, at least, for the men came close in the wake
of their leader. Hurling the torch into the hold, he prepared
for the fight which all knew would ensue. It was a sharp strug-
gle, but the Confederates, surprised and confused, were beaten
back. For some reason, the troops on shore did not assist them ;
and they were driven from the schooner to the wharf. There
they made a stand, pouring a rain of bullets upon the Federals,
who were endeavoring to make them fall back still farther. The
Burning a Privateer. 45
United States force was endeavoring to hold possession of the
steamer until the return of a small party that had been sent on
shore to spike one of the largest of the guns—the one placed so
as most effectually to command their avenue of escape. But this
perilous task was safely accomplished by the handful of men set
to perform it; their retreat was covered by the fire of their com-
rades on board the schooner; and the Federals had done all
that they could do. The order was given to retreat.
“Pull for dear life, boys,” was the command as they were
once more in the launches, “there’ll be a shower of grape after
us in a minute.”
His words were speedily verified ; for they had hardly died
away before the boom of the guns was heard over the water, and
pull for dear life they did, until the order was given to stop for
a certain purpose. This was nothing else than the discharge of
the brass howitzers, one of which had been placed in each
launch. Six charges of canister were fired into the yard, but
with what effect it was, of course, impossible for them to
ascertain. Again they bent to their oars, and although their
fire was speedily answered by volleys from the shore, they pulled
steadily away.
But in describing the advance and retreat of the Federals, we
have neglected to speak of the success of their expedition.
Lieut. Russell hurled the flambeau into the hold of the vessel,
where it lighted, fortunately for the plans of the Federals, in the
midst of some highly inflammable material left there by the
workmen who had been employed to change a United States
coasting vessel into a Confederate privateer. The flames spread
rapidly, and before the Confederates, driven to the shore as they
had been by the sudden onslaught of the attacking party, could
come to the rescue, the terrible element had gained too great a
headway to be successfully fought. The fire filled the hold ; the
deck was carpeted with tongues of flame that ran like winged
serpents along the caulked seams; they changed their nature,
and shot up with lightning-like rapidity into the rigging.
There was no chance of saving the vessel from which so much
had been hoped; the most that could be done was to prevent
further damage. Fortunately for the Confederates, the tide was
going out; had it been coming in, the problem might have been
a more difficult one. Resolved to save the wharf and the Navy
Yard, they cut her loose from her moorings. As she drifted
Burning a Privateer.
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Burning a Privateer. 47
slowly out of the harbor with the tide, the flames leaped higher
and higher. The hull was a mass of fire resting upon the dark
waters, the rigging outlined in fire against the dark sky. A
weird brilliancy followed in her wake, as she floated off, illum-
ing the darkness for miles around her track. Slowly she passed
away from the wharf, beyond the blockading squadron, to which
Lieut. Russell and his men had by this time returned, until, far
out at sea, the flames died down, and she became a mere speck
of light upon the horizon. When daylight came, there were but
a few pieces of charred wood, tossed hither and thither by the
waves, to tell of the splendid spectacle which had glorified the
night.
But that was not all. On board the vessels of Santa Rosa’s
Island, there were nearly a hundred men who felt that they had
performed a perilous but important duty; that in at least one
instance they had done good service to their country; and they
dropped a soldier's tear for those who, in the performance of
that self-same duty, had not only risked, but lost their lives.
£ºries IV.
CAUGEIT A. TARTAR.
A Reconnoissance—A Hard Road to Travel—Surprised—Surrender of Arms—His
Captors Get His Ammunition, and He Gets His Liberty.
NE day, early in September, 1861, Capt. W. E. Strong,
of the Second Wisconsin Volunteers, was ordered to pro-
ceed to the woods near Camp Advance, at which the Second
was then stationed, to see if the outer line of pickets ought to be
extended. Proceeding along this line until the last post was
reached, he found that he was some four hundred yards from the
river. To the right, between the pickets and the stream, was a
dense thicket of pine undergrowth. In Capt. Strong’s judg-
ment, this portion of the ground should be occupied, as the thick
brush offered such facilities for the advance of small parties of
the enemy upon the outer post. He accordingly so reported to
the superior officer who ordered him to make the inspection ;
and was directed to make a minute examination of the grounds,
reporting again at 8 P. M.
A short time after noon, then, he departed upon this second
errand, and “thereby hangs a tale.” Passing the outpost, he
pushed on through the thicket, and found that distance had in-
deed lent enchantment to the view. He had thought that the
brush would shelter the enemy in any flank movement that
might be attempted ; but he found that the ground was so rough
and the woods so dense that no force could penetrate it. Having
made his way to the river, the officer concluded that his work
had been thoroughly done, and that he might return by some
pleasanter road than that by which he had advanced. He ac-
cordingly turned back on a line about one hundred rods in ad-
* 48
Caught a Tartar. 49
vance of the outer line of pickets, intending to turn towards
camp as soon as he got fairly into the open country.
All along this route there was underbrush of greater or less
density, but none so difficult to penetrate as that thicket through
which he had just made his way. Thinking nothing of any
danger, he pursued the path calmly but rapidly, in order to get
back to camp and report at the time designated. He was hasten-
ing along when he came to a somewhat denser thicket than any
which he had yet passed since leaving the river. Suspecting
nothing of danger within such a short distance of the Federal
lines, he plunged into the shady recesses. Suddenly, from be-
hind every bush there appeared to spring a man ; and in an in-
stant there were six Confederates surrounding him and demand-
ing his surrender.
“Gentlemen, you have me,” replied the Federal, somewhat
ruefully, as he saw that there was no possibility of escape.
“Who are you ?” asked one of them, whom the others, later
on, addressed as “Sergeant,” and who appeared to be in com-
mand of the squad.
“Your prisoner,” he answered, evasively; at which there was
a general laugh at the “cute Yankee.”
“Where were you going 7”
“Back to camp.”
“Where had you been 7”
“Gentlemen, I must decline to answer any such questions,”
he answered.
This produced considerable dissatisfaction among his captors,
and they began to discuss, in no very pleasant mood, how they
should dispose of him.
“Oh, let's hang the d d.Yankee scoundrel,” suggested one,
pointing to a limb overhead, such as Judge Lynch has often
wished for. -
“Let’s take him to camp and hang him there,” proposed an-
other. -
“Well take him to camp,” decided the sergeant, without inti-
mating what was to follow when once they had arrived there.
The procession was, to the prisoner, an imposing one. He
himself was the central figure. Two of the Confederates were
cavalrymen, and these rode, one on each side of him. Before
him were two infantrymen, while the remaining two brought
up the rear. There seemed absolutely no possibility of escape
50 Caught a Tartar.
by any way that could be thought of, and Strong felt hopeless.
Whether they did not wish to linger so long almost in the
very face of the Federal pickets, or whether, in that early stage
of the War, the capture of an enemy was so novel an experience
that they did not “know the ropes,” we cannot undertake to
say; but certainly the little column had marched some twenty
rods before it occurred to the sergeant that a point of some im-
portance had been neglected.
“See here, stranger,” he said, turning to the prisoner, “I
reckon I’ll trouble you for your sword and pistols.”
“Certainly, sir,” replied the captive, stopping short in the
road to get the weapons, in order to give them up.
The sergeant had omitted to order a halt, and as a natural
consequence, his men marched on. As Capt. Strong brought
his pistol pouches around to the front of his body, and his hands
touched the stocks, the idea suggested itself that here was a
chance to escape. The soldiers had passed on and were about
fifty feet away; they were in a comparatively open portion of
the woods, but about sixty yards to the rear was a small thicket;
the prisoner was fleet of foot, and a good shot. All these points
were thought of as he changed the position of the pouches; he
touched the stocks; he drew out the pistols at full cock, and
aiming, first at the sergeant, then at the two infantrymen who
were nearest to him, fired. Hardly had the bullets sped from
the barrels when he was off to cover, like a deer before the
hounds.
IHe had moved so readily to give up his weapons that the Con-
federates had not the slightest idea of his intention, when the
shots rang out, both at once, upon the still air. For a moment
they were paralyzed by surprise; then, as they realized the situ-
uation, gave chase. But that moment’s inaction had enabled
the fleet-footed Federal to get a good start. He had nearly
reached cover before a shot was fired. But the bullets, when
they did come, were not ill-aimed. One passed through his
cheek, coming out at his mouth ; a second perforated his can-
teen ; and the others whistled unpleasantly close to his ears.
In the meantime the Confederates had hastily arranged a plan of
pursuit. The sergeant was not hit, but two of their number had
fallen by the fire of the prisoner; there were then two horsemen
and two unmounted men remaining. The latter gave direct
chase, trusting that their own speed would prove greater than
Caught a Tartar. 51
that of the Federal; the troopers made a circuit, one to each
side, so as to head him off and drive him back upon the two in-
fantrymen.
As Capt. Strong, glancing back over his shoulder, saw the ar-
rangements that were being made for the pursuit, he fired three
or four shots at the pursuing infantrymen; but he dared not
pause to take careful aim, and the shots had no effect. He ran
on, still at the top of his speed, until a small knoll was passed,
and he was thus shut off from the pursuers; he was almost within
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Catching a Tartar.
hailing distance of one of the Federal pickets. But, even as he
felt that in a few minutes more he would be safe, he was sud-
denly confronted by the two troopers.
“Halt I Surrender | * called the sergeant.
For answer, Capt. Strong turned and ran in the other direc-
tion; the sergeant spurred his horse onward, and was, in a mo-
ment's time, nearly up with the fugitive. The Federal turned,
took deliberate aim, and pulled the trigger. The cap snapped.
The trooper had his carbine unslung by this time, and was hold-
ing it with both hands on the left side of his horse, the barrel
pointed to the Federal’s breast, and without bringing the weapon
to his shoulder, the Confederate fired. It was a good shot, when










































4
52 Caught a Tartar.
the aim is considered ; though it failed of its object; the ball
passed through coat and shirt, grazing the skin on the left side
between the fifth and sixth ribs. An inch to the right, and it
would have been fatal.
By this time the fugitive was ready with another shot, and
this time his revolver did not fail him. When the smoke cleared
away, he saw a horse, empty-saddled, galloping off towards the
Confederate camp, the rider dragged along the ground by the
foot, which still stuck in the stirrup, as the Trojan prince was
dragged at the chariot wheels of Achilles. Other Confederates
there were none visible; warned by the fate of half their num-
ber, they had hastily beaten a retreat. Capt. Strong ran on un-
til the pickets were reached, when he thought he might take it
a little more leisurely ; being much exhausted by the exertion
and the loss of blood from the wound in his face.
Whether he reached camp in time to report punctually at the
hour set, does not appear; but as the official written report from
which the outlines of this story are drawn, was dated the day
after the adventure, we conclude that the surgeon interfered to
prevent over-exertion in the way of talking. He was uninjured,
save for the shot in his cheek. He never heard again of his
captors who so narrowly escaped with their lives. They evi-
dently carried off the bodies of the two infantrymen, as these
were killed very near the Confederate lines; and the dead
trooper was, as we have seen, dragged back to camp by the
frightened horse.
£HAFTER W.
A SCOUT TO BATTIMORE.
Necessity for Information—Obliging Videttes—A Successful Ruse—An Unexpected
Guest, Who Finds Himself in a Hornet's Nest, But Doesn't Get Stung—A Cor-
dial Reception—Attentions from the Officer of the Day—Danger Ahead—
Getting the Countersign—A Drunken Officer, Who Speedily Sobers Off—A
Changed Home—Trustworthy (?) Messengers—A Deserved Fate—A Friendly
Chat, That Ends Unpleasantly—Crossing the River—The Enemy Alarmed—
Pursuit—Wexation of the Pursuers—The Pursued Triumphant.
HE War between the States afforded peculiar facilities for
obtaining information, on either side, by means of scouts
or spies; for in every state that lay along the dividing line there
were men who held with the North, and others who held with
the South. Such men, of course, from their peculiarly intimate
knowledge of the surrounding country and its inhabitants, were
invaluable to the commanders to whom they attached them-
selves. Such a man was Elijah White, a wealthy planter of
Maryland, who, like many others, incensed that that state re-
mained in the Union, volunteered to serve in the Confederate
army operating in the sister state, Virginia.
In October, 1861, Gen. Evans, of the Confederate army, whose
forces were then at Leesburg, was much annoyed by the knowl-
edge which the Federals frequently showed of his plans. Sus-
picion immediately fell upon the townspeople, but could not be
confirmed with regard to any particular persons. Not only was .
this the case, but the enemy indulged in many maneuvers which,
in his entire ignorance of their movements and intentions, often
discomforted his forces. Accordingly, several Marylanders in the
Confederate service volunteered to cross the Potomac and, pene-
trating as far as Baltimore, sixty miles away, bring back the news.
53
54 A Scout to Baltimore.
Four men made up the party, one of them being Mr. White.
Riding to that point selected for fording the river, they found
that the stream was closely watched on the other side. Strata-
gem, of course, must be employed, and some accommodating
videttes were pressed into service.
“Just you fuss about and attract as much attention as you
ean, will you?” was the proposition; “and then maybe we can
get across.”
Doubtless the Federal pickets wondered what was the mat-
ter with the videttes across the river; certainly, they paid their
undivided attention to those gentlemen, and did not see the four
men in blue uniforms who swam their horses to the Maryland
side. These, of course, were White and his party; and once
more on dry land, they changed their blue uniforms for citizens’
clothes, and rode away. But by the time that they were ready
to do so, the Federals had discovered that the “fussing about”
on the part of the videttes had been merely a ruse to draw their
attention from something else, and blue-clad cavalrymen were
now galloping hither and thither in search of the daring enemy.
But the Marylanders had no mind to be found ; each felt that
“his foot was on his native heath,” and if no clan surrounded
him, each was a host in himself. To them, a road was a superflu-
ity, and, striking into the thick timber, they rode for thirty miles
without other guide than their knowledge of the country and
“The cool, green mosses,
To the northward of the trees.”
Of course, for them to enter Baltimore in a party would prob-
ably excite suspicion, as that city was then in the hands of the
Federals, who knew not whom, among its inhabitants, to trust;
so, a short time before reaching the suburbs, they separated,
having first assigned one of the principal hotels as a rendez-
vous. True, the city being an important point and more than
suspected of having Southern proclivities, was closely guarded;
but the four Confederates succeeded in evading any trouble-
some inquiries. The very fact that they had so many acquaint-
ances in the city was in itself a danger, but they were so skill-
ful and fortunate as to avoid meeting with any who might betray
them. But as the adventures of three of the party were of no
particular interest, and might be told in a few words, let us fol-
low the chief of the expedition, then, as he made his way about
the city.
A Scout to Baltimore. 55
Stabling his horse in an out-of-the-way place, he carefully re-
moved all traces of his ride from his person, and bent his steps
toward the residence of a friend in whom he knew he could
trust, a Mr. W--. But what was his surprise to find his
friend’s parlors filled with a considerable party, twelve of whom
were Federal officers. W , however, was well used to dis-
sembling in the presence of such as his present guests, and ex-
claimed, as he shook the new comer heartily by the hand:
“Why, I had no idea we should have the pleasure of seeing
you to-night—thought you couldn’t tear yourself away from the
metropolis.”
“O, I left New York last night,” explained White, readily
taking the cue. “Thought I’d come around; though I didn’t
know there was any party on hand.”
“O, not a party; just a few friends from the garrison and
about town, that, like yourself, happened to drop in. Let me
... introduce you.”
The new comer was as heartily received by the guests as by
the host, and though the inquiries as to the news from the me-
tropolis were somewhat difficult to answer, the suspicions of the
party were not aroused. Tell it not in Gath, but the truth gath-
ered from many sources by the present historian, seems to be that
the good liquor dispensed so liberally by W-affected them
with such a desire to love all mankind as is quite unusual and im-
proper for soldiers in time of war. Certain it is that the strange
New Yorker, who spoke so patriotically about the “Union, one
\
and indissoluble, now and forever,” was taken to their hearts as ,
“a regular brick;” they seeming to be especially fond of that
variety of building material that night, since each went home
with one in his hat.
But before they dispersed, or even before they became “o’er
all the ills of life victorious,” White, by means of skillful and
seemingly innocent questioning, succeeded in obtaining consider-
able information regarding the number and disposition of troops
upon the upper and lower Potomac. So completely were they
blinded by his acting and their own intoxication that one of them
insisted upon escorting him, the next day, over the fortifications.
This Federal was, on that particular occasion, officer of the day,
but his duties were not so onerous as to interfere with hospital-
ity, and everything was fully explained to the stranger. It may
well be believed that the Confederate kept his eyes and ears
56 A Scout to Baltimore.
open, and while asking as few questions as possible, in order
not to excite the suspicions of his now sober companion, he man-
aged, by careful comparison of statements, to get a pretty accu-
rate idea of facts and figures.
But, of course, all of his time could not be spent in this profit-
able manner. Provided by Mr. W with the sign and counter-
sign, by which he could gain the confidence of the Southern sym-
pathizers, he spent several days very pleasantly; keeping a
sharp lookout, meanwhile, for further information. At last,
judging that they had learned all that was necessary or possi-
ble for them to find out, the four Confederates met, under cover
of night, at a friend’s house, to arrange matters for their depart-
ure. Their discussion was suddenly interrupted by their host,
who ushered in another friend, who had recently arrived in the
city. The new comer was greeted as cordially as in time of peace,
and the important subject in hand dropped for personal inquiries.
“Sorry not to have seen you before,” he replied to their greet-
ing; “but maybe it’s just as well for you I wasn’t in the city. I
tell you, gentlemen, you'll have to be right careful if you want
to get through all safe.”
“O, we’re always careful—never got caught yet.”
“From what I’ve heard of your adventures, its more by good
luck than good management; for some of your expeditions have
been right risky. But you’ll need extra care now. There's some-
thing going on along the upper Potomac ; I couldn’t find out
particulars without having too many questions asked of me, and
maybe being obliged to make a trip to Fort McHenry; so I
thought I’d warn you and give you all the information I could
safely obtain.”
“The fords are guarded, I suppose?”
“Double forces at every one. Baker—he's old Abe's right-
hand man, you know — brags that he isn’t going into winter
quarters until he can do it at Rebel expense.”
“Does he prefer Libby or Andersonville 7” asked an irrepres-
sible wag.
“There's no time for joking, said White; Baker's acting in
conjunction with Stone, at Poolesville; and we’ll have to get
back as soon as we can.”
Setting out with as little delay as possible, they made their
way to the river; but the nearer they approached it, the more
dangerous they found their course. There were so many Fed-
A Scout to Baltimore. 57
erals along the principal roads that they had to keep, most of
the time, in the timber; and this could hardly be called a wise
plan, since it would be liable to excite the suspicions of any stray
scouting parties with which they might chance to meet. But
their fears proved groundless, and they safely reached the woods
near Poolesville. From this point, however, as they were well
aware, it was unsafe to proceed towards the town, which lay
directly in their course ; yet it seemed equally unsafe to turn
aside.
“I tell you, boys,” suggested White, “let’s get the countersign
and go into Poolesville.”
“Easily enough said,” returned one; “but how is it to be ac-
complished 7”
“I’ll go and get it.”
But there was a chorus of protestations against White's propo-
sition, and it was only with difficulty that he could silence their
objections to his daring project. At last, however, he persuaded
them to go to the house of a friend living in the neighborhood,
and remain there for a given time, or until he should return with
the countersign. Resuming his Federal uniform as soon as this
plan was agreed on, he proceeded cautiously along the road un-
til the light of a picket fire warned him that advance in that
direction was no longer safe. Hitching his horse in the woods,
therefore, he crept silently through the brush until he was with-
in earshot of the nearest guard. More than an hour he lay there
in the darkness made yet more dense by the deep shadows of the
wood; hardly daring to breathe deeply lest he should alarm the
guard; to hear the countersign he had crept to within as short a
distance as the nature of the ground allowed. His blood was
chilled by the long inaction, for the air was keen that Octo-
ber night; and his limbs were almost benumbed by lying so long
in one position. At length, however, his patience was rewarded.
Footsteps were heard approaching.
“Who comes there?” challenged the guard.
“A friend with the countersign.”
“Advance, friend, and give the countersign.”
With beating heart, the man hidden in the bushes strained his
ears to hear the reply, which sounded but faintly:
“ Bunker Hill.”
He felt like flying back to his horse, but must, of course, re-
turn as slowly and cautiously as he had advanced. At last, how-
58 A Scout to Baltimore.
ever, he was once more mounted, and dashed along the road at
full gallop, roaring out as he went, something like this:
“Oh, the Star-Span-(hic)gled Banner, oh, long (hic) may it wave, -
O'er the (hic) land of the frrhee (hic) and the home of the brah-(hic) ve.”
This beautiful rendering of the patriotic song was rudely in-
terrupted by the picket's— -
“IHalt | Who comes there?”
“Friend 'ith count'sign,” answered the new comer, with tipsy
gravity, as he vainly tried to keep himself from reeling in the
saddle.
“Advance, friend, and give the countersign,” was the reply,
in the stereotyped form ; while the picket smiled contemptuously
at the drunken officer who answered :
“Bunker Hill,” as he passed on.
The sights which now met his eyes were such as, unexpected,
might have sobered him had he been as drunk as he pretended
to be ; for he was now at once upon his own plantation, and in
the Federal camp. His home was converted into a guard-house,
whence issued unearthly cries, in mingled accents of brogue and
German-English, from the drunken soldiers confined there. The
fences had long since fed the flames of camp-fires; the barns had
shared the same fate. The groves were unsightly clusters of
maimed trees, separated by strips of land where the fresh stumps
showed what had been. But it was no time to think of the
past, or the present as compared with it ; he must think only
of the present and the near future. Passing easily from place
to place by means of the countersign, he fell in with a party of
officers who seemed bent on a glorious spree.
“Keep it up till the 'wee sma' hours', boys,” cried one.
“You bet your bottom dollar on that,” answered another.
“I was to get back to Little Mac, with these dispatches, before
sunrise,” said a third, refilling his glass and leisurely sipping
the contents.
“Thirty miles P’ exclaimed a fourth; “think you’ll make it?”
The speaker's laugh was echoed by the whole party, for the
messenger's attitude and manner were anything but indicative of
the energy that would be required for the ride. -
“D—d if I intend to try it. Old Stone needn’t to think it.
Guess my horse is lame. I hope he is.”
“What'll you do? Somebody 'll blow on you, maybe.”
“O, I’ll fix that. I won’t stay in town. Guess I’ll go just the
y
A Scout to Baltimore. 59
other side and put up at P ’s for the night. Your dispatches
are for Banks, ain’t they, Schmidt?” -
Schmidt, another aid present, answered that they were.
“Guess they’re good enough to keep over night, ain’t they 7 I
don’t believe they’re important. Let’s make a night of it, any-
how, and lay the blame on the d–d good-for-nothing horses,
that are so easily lamed.”
“Dat soods me, Gabdain”—answered Schmidt, with a strong
German accent. “I don’t know any ting w” at I likes better.”
The “wee, sma’ hours” came all too soon for the majority of the
party; but at the smallest, they judged it safest to break up the
bout. The two aids rode on to the plantation at which they
were to spend the night; the remainder, with one exception,
staggered home to their quarters; that one man mounted his no-
ble gray horse and rode hastily to the farm-house where there
were three others awaiting him.
“Did you get the countersign º’ was the first eager question of
all. -
“Got it without any trouble; had some first-rate liquor, and
have lots of fun in prospect for us.”
“What is it?”
“A couple of McClellan's aids are going to spend the night
at P ’s ; one has dispatches from Stone, the other to Banks.
Let’s capture them.”
With exclamations of joy, only stified that no enemy might
overhear them, they mounted and were soon on their way to the
indicated house. Their plan was arranged as they rode on ; hav-
ing ascertained in what room the two aids were to sleep, they
would manage, by stratagem, to separate them, and thus beat
them in detail. Accordingly, having lain in wait some time,
White rode up to the house, and rousing a servant, asked, in dis-
guised voice: -
“Is Captain Schmidt here 7 I have been told that he was, and
have been sent by Gen. Stone to call him immediately.”
“Yessah ; I'll tell him, sah.”
Capt. Schmidt soon made his appearance, hurling oaths that
from their deep guttural sounds seemed doubly profane.
“Tamn ter teufel w'at watched me and told old Stone. W’at’s
de matter you? O, I peg bardon—”
“I am very sorry indeed, Captain Schmidt, for the duty which
has been imposed upon me. The general sent for me as soon as
60 A Scout to Baltimore.
he learned of my arrival in camp. It seems he had already
heard of our frolic, and had ordered word of my arrival to be
brought to him—”
How long White might have gone on in these condolences is
uncertain, for as he got to this point his three men had arranged
matters so that the trusty messenger was completely in their
power, and a moment more sufficed to secure him in such a way
that resistance was useless, had he not been too much astonished
to think of making any. He was left in charge of two of the
men at some distance from the house where he had expected to
spend the night, while White and the third of his little force
went again to the residence.
The knock at the door was answered this time by P− in
person, very much out of humor at having his household so fre-
quently aroused at such unusual hours; for it was now verging
on three o’clock in the morning. Tetermined to see the intruder,
he suddenly shoved the candlestick so close to White's face that
the flame singed his hair; and, seeing his old neighbor before
him, started back in utter surprise. . With a warning glance,
White placed his finger on his lips and pointed his revolver.
P , having recovered his self-control, nodded, and quietly
submitted to be guarded by White's companion. Meantime the
Confederate leader had mounted the stairs to the room lately
occupied by Capts. Schmidt and , but in which only the lat-
ter was to be found.
“Why, Captain White,” exclaimed the Federal, as he opened
the door, “come in, sir. Glad to see you.”
“I heard you say at the tavern that you were going to stay all
night here, and I thought I’d follow suit, and join my regiment
in the morning.”
“O, it isn’t worth while to be so particular; take my word
for it, it doesn’t pay. Have a seat. You Smoke, of course; won’t
you try one of these cigars 7”
“Thank you ; but smoking of itself is dry work; I've a
pocket pistol here, of excellent brandy; sample it.”
“Is that the kind of arms you carry? I'm afraid they wouldn’t
be of much use if you were called on to defend yourself.”
“O, it's all right, I geckon ; it don’t pretend to be effective
against any foes but thirst and fatigue. By the way, how about
the new carbines they talk of introducing? Have you heard any-
thing of them?”
A Scout to Baltimore. 61
“No, nothing but some camp talk. This is first class brandy
—best I’ve tasted for a long time. I guess they’ll poke along
about the carbines a year or two, and then the war will be over
and forgotten. For my part, I’d rather trust to these than to any
carbine ever made.”
“Colt's, are they 7. It’s a magnificent pair, certainly.”
“Yes, Colt’s navies; I carry them always; keep ’em loaded,
and never let them go out of my possession.”
“Now, I prefer this kind—it’s Adams,’ self-cocker; have you
ever seen them 7”
“Don’t believe I have,” replied Capt. , pushing his own
revolvers across the table that stood by the bedside, and reach-
ing for the more novel weapon of his companion. Meanwhile
White carelessly picked up the pair thus tendered to him, and
examined them thoroughly, as any soldier might examine a
handsome article of the kind. Cocking them as if unconscious-
ly, he seemed lost in admiration of the elegant workmanship.
“Loaded, you say?” he asked, in a careless tone.
“Always,” was the answer.
“Mine is n 't,” was
o tº e %222*Ty.T. 22.2% ºft#
White's rejoinder, as he ſº N. & i' . zkº §
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pointed the weapon in his ſºft sº º \ %.
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3
º
ºà
º º - %2% - ! ºft
right hand at his compan- §%. , .# ſº
ion's head, “I am a sol-
dier in the Confederate
army, and I want you to
dress and come along with
me immediately.”
The Federal, taken com-
pletely by surprise, stared
a moment at the Confed-
erate; then started up as
if about to grapple with
his opponent. - Hº ºscº Lºss> --> º
“It’s of no use to re- “Mine isn't.”
sist,” White assured him,
“for the house is surrounded by my men. Be quick.”
The prisoner dressed as quickly as possible, and in company
with the two Confederates, was soon on horseback. Not much
time was required to reach the remainder of the party, the re-
union affording much surprise to the two prisoners, each of whom
§2#
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62 A Scout to Baltimore.
was ignorant of the other's capture; and an equal amount of
quiet, grim amusement to the four Rebs. With their prisoners
in the centre, they trotted briskly along in the bright moonlight
until the gleam of the picket-fires across the Potomac was visi-
ble. It was now necessary to hold a council of war; and with-
drawing into the shadows of the woods, they consulted upon the
course to be pursued. At last it was suggested that two should
advance boldly towards the pickets with the countersign, and
state that they had volunteered to cross the river on a recon-
noissance.
“That will get two of us across,” answered one; “but how
about the rest ?”
“Why the news will spread, and they will want to talk it over
with each other; so they won’t attend much to their posts for a
while ; and the two left behind with the prisoners can surely
find an opportunity of slipping past at some place.”
The plan was accordingly put into operation, and succeeded
admirably. When the two who went first were safely across the
river, and the others were watching their opportunity, White
turned to his prisoners and said:
“Gentlemen, as you are perhaps aware, the least sound may
betray us; and the slightest attempt on your part to escape
would excite the suspicions of your friends. Now I don’t like to
threaten, but for us to be taken would involve us in considerable
danger; so please understand that the slightest effort to attract
attention will be certain death. If we are taken, we will sell our
lives dearly and yours will be only a portion of the price.”
The two prisoners, who had previously been gagged to pre-
vent their talking, as they seemed determined to do, bowed
their heads in assent to this demand, and gave no trouble in the
passage of the river. The Confederates watched their chance
narrowly, and when, as they had expected would be the case,
they saw one particular spot deserted, they issued from the
woods and swam their horses across the stream. But scarcely
had they crossed when, in the distance, they saw two squadrons
of the enemy dashing along the bank. Some of the negroes about
P 's plantation must have made their way directly into
camp and given information of all that had taken place. Their
words, full of anger and chagrin, soon became plainly audible to
the Confederates, who, secure in the vicinity of their own picket
lines, gave vent to a hearty burst of laughter.
A Scout to Baltimore. 63
“That's him P’ cried one of the pursuing party; “I know his
voice, Major.”
“Is that you, White?”
“Yes, that's me, Major; how are you, sir? Fine night, isn’t
it? I’ll give you another call soon. Good-night.”
In an instant a shower of shot was falling around him, but for-
tunately did no damage. In his little force, he had himself as-
sumed the position of rearguard, and had lingered farther behind
his party than was necessary; accordingly, putting spurs to his
good gray, he cantered merrily on, and had soon come up with
the main body. But they were now approaching Leesburg a lit-
tle too closely for the liking of the Federals, who accordingly
wheeled as soon as they saw that they were not to bag their
game, and returned to the Maryland side of the Potomac.
Meanwhile, White and his men had reached Leesburg, deliver-
ed their prisoners into the proper hands, and as soon as they
should have snatched a few hours’ sleep, were ready for any
other expedition which promised as much as this, in the way of
adventure.
ſhares VI.
Z.A.GONYT’S FAMOUS CHARGE.
Fremont—Zagonyi-Fremont's Body-Guard—A Kid-Gloved Brigade—The Prairie
Scouts—Valuable Information—Strength and Disposition of the Confederates—
“Fremont and the Union”—The Valley of Death—Mathenyi's Attack—Retreat
of the Enemy—A Determined Foe—His Fate—The Fight Ended—Not a Kid-
Gloved Brigade.
EN. FREMONT had been extremely popular ever since
G. his explorations of the Far West had made known to the
people the true greatness of the country beyond the Mississippi;
and when, in the early days of the war, he was assigned to the
command of the Federal forces in Missouri, enthusiasm knew
no bounds. He was welcomed as a deliverer by those who de-
sired to keep the State in the Union, and bitterly execrated by
those of opposite sentiments.
Among those whom his personal powers of fascination and
romantic life had attracted to his side, was a Hungarian refugee
who had long been a resident of this country. A soldier in
boyhood, when his native land made her desperate but unsuc-
cessful effort to free herself, he made himself notorious for his
headlong courage. But he was not permitted to serve until the
end of the war. There was a desperate cavalry charge upon an
Austrian battery; more than half of the horsemen were slain;
their leader was wounded and captured; and for two years,
Zagonyi was a prisoner. Then, imperial clemency released him,
but exiled him forever. He came to this country, and having
for so many years enjoyed the blessings of a republican form of
government, considered himself as much bound to fight for the
preservation of the Union as any “to the manor born.”
Zagonyi offered his services to Gen. Fremont, and was most
64
Zagonyi's Famous Charge. 65
cordially received. Whether at his own suggestion, or that of
his commander, does not appear; but he was authorized to raise
a company of horse, to be known as “Fremont's Body-Guard.”
Such was the personal popularity of the Pathfinder, that young
men flocked to the standard thus raised, in numbers more than
sufficient to fill the company. Notwithstanding the severe tests
to which they were subjected, in the effort to organize a body of
Bayards, knights fearless and blameless, within five days a num-
ber sufficient to form two full companies had been enrolled. In
addition to these, a third company, composed of the flower of
the Kentucky youth, ten-
dered its services and
asked to be included in
the guard. Subsequent-
ly a fourth company was
added to these three.
Handsomely uniformed,
well-armed, mounted up-
on picked horses, and
peculiarly entitled to be
called by the command-
er’s name, the corps soon
awoke the jealousy of
the other parts of the
army. “Fancy soldiers,”
the “kid-gloved brigade,”
and similar epithets were muttered or spoken aloud as they rode
through the camp. Fired, as they were, with an enthusiasm for
a soldier's life, these were the bitterest taunts that could be flung
at them ; and many were the secret vows made by those chival-
rous hearts, that their comrades’ words should be disproved.
Late in October, 1861, Major Zagonyi received orders to pro-
ceed with one hundred and sixty of his men to reconnoiter the
country through which the main body was about to advance;
leaving the remainder of his men in camp, under command of a
non-commissioned officer. It was eight o’clock, on the evening of
the 24th, when they set out toward Springfield, Mo. Gen. Sigel
had already sent out a squadron of cavalry for a similar purpose,
one hundred and thirty strong—the Prairie Scouts, well-known
in the War history of Missouri; these were but a few hours in
advance of Zagonyi's troops, and a rapid march soon enabled
Major Zagonyi.

66 Zagonyi's Famous Charge.
the latter to overtake them, thus combining the two forces.
Major Zagonyi took command—the officer of the Prairie
Scouts, Major White, being very ill—and pressed rapidly on-
ward. His men were almost worn out by the strain on their
powers. The Scouts, organized at Georgetown, had marched to
Lexington, sixty-five miles, and retaken the boats which Price
had captured from Mulligan, when the latter capitulated in Sep-
tember. Proceeding by way of Warrensburg to Warsaw, Major
White had reported to Gen. Sigel for duty, and had been sent to
Springfield. During the whole of this time they had been with-
out tents, and had been obliged to provide themselves with food
from the surrounding country. Although the Body-Guard could
not show such a length of arduous service as their comrades,
they were equally weary, having been on the march for seven-
teen hours.
Such was the condition of the men when, as they came within
two miles of Springfield, they were met by a farmer who said he
had important information to give. Obedient to the summons of
their leader, the officers clustered around him, and listened at-
tentively to this “friend in need.” A number of men on their
way to join Price, he said, had but recently arrived at Spring-
field, and this reinforcement had increased the force of the enemy
to two thousand. Later investigations have revealed that this
estimate fell short of the real strength of the enemy by two
hundred—in itself not much less than the entire force at Zagonyi's
disposal.
The Confederates were encamped upon a hill about half a mile
west of the town; to their left was a broad and well traveled
road; to their right, a narrow lane. Their rear was protected
by a dense growth of trees, which crowned the summit of the
hill, and at the foot of the hill there was a small brook. Be-
tween their encampment and the grove mentioned, were situated
the county fair grounds. The latter afforded protection for
their train, being surrounded by a high board fence; while the
edge of the timber formed an advantageous post for their in-
fantry and cavalry.
Major White had been left behind the main column, with a
small escort, to proceed as slowly as his weakened condition
might require; and had been captured by a Confederate scouting
party. This confirmed earlier reports of the presence of Fed-
eral troops in the near vicinity, and their officers lost no time in
Zagonyi's Famous Charge. 67
preparing to resist the expected attack. Their position was
practically unassailable, except by way of the narrow lane al-
ready mentioned; infantry and cavalry were posted so as best to
command this avenue of attack, and sharpshooters stationed
among the scattered trees, to pick off the advancing assailants.
The lane had no outlet, leading only to ploughed fields and tim-
ber, impassable for cavalry; if, then, the infantry stood firm,
nothing could prevent the enemy’s being cut to pieces.
Such was the situation as the farmer explained it to Major Za-
gonyi. A hurried council of war was held ; would it be well to
advance? There were many reasons for a negative answer;
there was but one for any other.
“We have been called ‘kid-gloved boys', and ‘fancy soldiers for
the pavements of St. Louis’; shall we show that we are soldiers
fit for the battle-field, and know how to handle our enemies
without gloves 7”
Such was the question which the leader addressed to his men;
there was not one dissentient voice in the answer; he bade any
who were sick, or tired with the seventeen hours’ ride, go back,
while there was yet time; but not a man stirred.
“Follow me, then,” he cried ; “And let our watchword be,
* Fremont and the Union l’.”
In order to reach the lane along which they were to ride
against the enemy, it was necessary to make a detour of twelve
miles; under the guidance of the farmer, this was speedily ac-
complished, and they came in sight of the battle-ground. At
first, not an enemy is to be seen ; the column of horsemen, whose
sabres and spurs clank as they ride, in a sort of rough martial
music, seemed strangely out of place in the still brightness of
the October afternoon. Suddenly, from the woods, that glow
with all the beauty of an American autumn, ring out four short
shrill reports, and four Guards reel in their saddles; their eyes
glaze; they fall to the ground. The leaves overhead still dance
in the breezes, though from the same bough others have flut-
tered, brown and dead, to the ground; the column rides onward
as if none of those composing it were left behind. There is no
time to halt now, for just over that spur of the hill they see the
gleam of rifles.
They ride on, and as they pass the corner of the wood,
“Battle's magnificently stern array ”
breaks upon their sight. The road slopes rapidly downward;
5
68 Zagonyi's Famous Charge.
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Zagonyi's Famous Charge. 69
they must reach the valley as soon as possible, and charge up
the hill. Urging their horses to a gallop, at the word of com-
mand, they follow their leader.
“Into the jaws of death,
Jnto the mouth of hell.”
Wolley after volley pours into their ranks, but at last they have
gained the brook which separates the two slopes, and they dash
wildly up the hill. There is a momentary hesitation; they can
not tell why their comrades, the Scouts, should have deserted
them in this hour of need ; they do not know that the com-
mander of the smaller body has judged a flank attack advisable,
and has deployed his men for that purpose ; but it can be only a
momentary halt, for it is as certain death for them to pause here
as it is for them to dash onward.
But the wood was so dense as to be impenetrable; and the
Scouts, who had suffered from a galling fire while making the
endeavor, were forced to desist. As they rode forward to re-
inforce the Guard, they met an officer of that body riding back
towards them ; and gave the order:
“The enemy are retreating; take your men down that lane
and cut them off.”
The point indicated was the line of connection with the main
road. The order was of course obeyed, though the information
proved to be false. This movement left the whole brunt of the
battle to be borne by the Guard. This body was reforming at
the foot of the hill; being, in this position, somewhat sheltered
from the enemy’s guns. As yet, they have not struck a blow,
although suffering so severely; but the time has come for ac-
tion. Lieutenant Mathenyi receives orders to attack the ene-
my’s cavalry with a force of thirty men ; and the little body pro-
ceeds at once to execute the order. The Confederate horsemen,
four hundred strong, are posted at the edge of the wood ; it
seems folly to attack them with this handful of men, but the
odds are no greater than in other parts of the field.
The graycoats wait to see the meaning of such a movement—
a small force detached from the main one. Mathenyi's corps has
thundered up the hill halfway to the summit before they realize
what this desperate foe intends to do. Grasping their revolvers
they pour their fire into the advancing horsemen ; but it does
not cause a delay. Right at the center of the body Mathenyi
hurls his men, their Sabres gleaming and flashing in the sun-
70 Zagonyi's Famous Charge.
shine. Dismayed by the unexpected attack, the Rebels give
way an instant; they cannot close up again, for the Yankees are
among them, cutting them down like grass. Thrown into such
fatal disorder, they can only seek each man for himself, for
safety. They turn and fly, pursued in hot haste into the corn-
fields where they would have taken refuge ;
“And down in the corn, where the poppies grew
Were redder stains than the poppies knew.”
Mathenyi has disappeared among the enemy’s cavalry; there
is neither time nor opportunity to ascertain whether the attack
has been successful or whether the handful of men has been cut
to pieces; the main body has reformed, and Zagonyi gives the
command :
“In open order—charge -
The column spreads out like a fan, and rushes madly up the
slope. A murderous fire pours down the hill; but the leaden
hail seems unheeded, save where, here and there, the Guardsmen
drop from their saddles. Here rushes a riderless horse, mad
with excitement into which his rider has guided him ; but sud-
denly he feels another hand on the rein, another weight upon
his back; and is again with his companions; leaving behind on
the grassy slope, steeds and riders, “in one red burial blent.”
Had the Confederate infantry stood their ground, nothing
could have saved the attacking force. Outnumbered, fourteen
to one, they had no means of retreat, nor did they desire any.
But the Southerners did not wait for the attack; seized with
a deadly panic, they turned and fled into the woods, the Guards
spurred their horses amid the fugitives, cutting them down mer-
cilessly. There was, after the first rout, an effort made to rally
the men, but it proved ineffectual; all that remained of the
force was a number, who, more determined than the rest, shelter-
ed themselves behind trees, and fired at the horsemen who ad-
vanced. But even these are soon put to flight by the deter-
mination of the boys in blue. Scattering from the point where
they had been stationed, some of the infantry endeavored to
reach the ploughed fields near by, whither the sabred cavalry
cannot follow; but many take shelter in the fair-grounds, and
thence escape to the town. They are pursued hotly, and the con-
flict now rages in the streets. Women and children hasten away
from the dreadful scene of carnage; and yet, impelled by a ter-
rible fascination, turn back to look upon it.
122
Zagonyi's Famous Charge. 71
In every battle there must be, on both sides, numberless in-
stances of courage; or there would be no battle, but a slaughter.
It is sometimes difficult, through a medium that shows only one
side of the question, to discern this fact ; and in the recognition
of it consists the impartiality of a War history. While the Con-
federates were, in general, ignominiously routed by a handful of
men, there were many of them who did not deserve censure;
and among these was a young officer who, on that one day, vindi-
cated the claim of one man to a place among the chivalry of the
South. Superbly mounted, he dashed alone against a squad of
Federals; he breaks through their line; one of them goes down
before him; wheeling, he charges again upon the same body;
another feels the weight of his blade, and he escapes in safety.
But this was not all.
Feeling that much of the
credit for the desperate
º tº ſt valor of the troops must
º £º §º be due to their leader,
t § sº kº, he sought out Zagonyi,
tº º § in the thick of the fight.
Charging a third time
on the enemy, he level-
ed his pistol at the lead-
ſ (. . . % ºf ſº er, and pulled the trig-
§ §º ger when the muzzle al-
§ $º ”),.. º & º
Nºş most touched his side.
§ {º.
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2.x. ãº. the revolver over his
W. Attack on Zagonyi. heart, Zagonyi escaped
& § * the wound, and the bullet passed through his cloth-
“ ing. As the weapon was discharged, the Federal
raised his sabre, already discolored, and cleft his opponent's
skull; at the same instant those who surrounded him, believing
their leader wounded, pressed around the Confederate with their
flashing blades, and before he had fallen from the saddle, his
body was covered with blood from half-a-dozen wounds.
Up and down, through the streets of the little city, rode the
soldiers, seeking the scattered enemy; most of the Confed-
erate horsemen, and many of the infantry, had made their way
to a place of safety; but those that remained were the bravest,












72 Zagonyi's Famous Charge.
the most desperate, who fought like the Guards themselves. At
last night descended, and the fight was at an end.
The assembly was sounded, and the troops gathered in, the
public square of the town—how changed from the gallant array
that at noon had approached Springfield. Then, every man had
been mounted on a magnificent, dark bay horse, chosen with
care from the well-stocked stables of the government; but only
thirty of these animals bore their riders out of the fight; the
rest of the soldiers were mounted on horses caught on the field,
their Confederate riders having been killed, or were on foot. Nor
was this the worst. Seventeen of their number had fallen on
the field; two could not live through the night; twenty-eight
others were more slightly wounded ; and of those who here as-
sembled, and peered into the powder-stained, smoke-begrimed
visages around them, there was not one who did not wonder to
see so many there. So desperate had been their charge that it
seemed a miracle that any escaped. f
Expecting that the fugitives would soon reach the main body
of the enemy, and that he would be attacked by a force which
he could not resist, Major Zagonyi determined not to attempt to
hold the town, but to retreat to a distance of about twenty-five
miles. This was successfully accomplished, and at last the
weary and half-starved soldiers had an opportunity to rest and
refresh themselves. -
Thus ended a charge often called in the annals of the period,
“Zagonyi's Ride to Death.” As brilliant an exploit as has ever
been recorded, it resembles in more points than one, the course
of a rocket through the darkness of a July night. A sudden
flash, and it bursts upon our astonished gaze, a miracle of radi-
ance; but in a moment it has faded as completely as a dream—
“left not a wrack behind.” The attack upon a force so far su-
perior in point of numbers attracted much attention even at that
time, when wonders were every-day affairs; but it had no effect
upon the progress of the war in that part of country; its only
result may be summed up in the words of one of the men there
wounded, who groaned out to a friend:
“I guess they won’t call us ‘kid-gloved soldiers’ any more.”
£HAFTER WII.
A VENTURESOME VENTURE.
Too Venturesome for a Leader—A Good Chance—In Ambush—A Disappointed
Party—A Slim Chance—A Woman in the Case—A Desperate State of Affairs
—A Golden Opportunity—That Proves to be Less Golden—A Division is
Brought Out—Capture of the Scouts—Exchange.
N the old days “before the War,” so lovingly looked back
I to by many a one who now finds himself growing old, it was
no difficult matter in the South to arrange a hunt. As soon as
“A southerly wind and a cloudy sky -
Proclaimed it a hunting morning,”
some enthusiast would mount and ride to the next neighbor’s
with an informal invitation to the Sport. So the party would
grow, as they went on, just as a snow ball increases. When the
War broke out, the same spirit still survived, but could only
vent itself in expeditions of daring and adventure.
It was so that the scouting party grew, whose adventures we
are about to relate. Captain Darrell, the leader, was a young
South Carolinian, nominally attached to Gen. Bonham’s staff,
but who, finding the life of a partisan more agreeable, was re-
lieved of the duties of an aid-de-camp, and allowed to plan and
execute his own movements as if he regularly belonged to that
branch of the service. A native of the same state as the Revo-
lutionary Swamp Fox, his was a desperate, reckless courage
which would have done credit to one of Marion’s men. He
claimed to be extremely cautious; but this does not appear to
have been well founded, for many of his old friends in the
South Carolina regiments predicted many times that he
would certainly be captured, and refused to accompany him on
any more scouting expeditions.
73 -
74 A Venturesome Venture.
Such was the man who, one day in November, 1861, learned
of an opportunity of harrassing the enemy. The Federal forces
were at Langley, their pickets being somewhat in advance; while
the Confederates had a picket post at Dranesville, a town made
memorable in the following month by the artillery duel which
was the first success of the Northern Army of the Potomac.
Capt. Darrell received, from private sources, information that
a Federal force was to proceed towards Dranesville, probably
on a reconnoissance; and, without an effort to ascertain the
strength of the party, determined, with a few men, to attack it
from the woods through which the road passed, and escape pur- .
suit in the confusion which would ensue.
Following the old plan for raising a hunting party, he soon
had, despite his reputation for recklessness, as many men as he
desired. They were three in number; Lieut. Decaradeux, and
two privates, Carper and Coleman. They set out in the after-
noon, and stationed themselves in a position most excellently
adapted for an ambush. Above the road rose, on either side, a
high bank, entirely inaccessible to horses, and nearly or quite
so to the most expert climber. These elevations were crowned
with a dense growth of lofty pines. A better covert could not
be imagined.
Here they waited, but the enemy did not come. Night drew
on, and resolving to give up the idea until the next day, they left
their post and went some distance down the road to the house
of an acquaintance. Here they passed the night, leaving just
after daybrèak. The house stood some little distance from the
main road, being separated from it by a field of considerable ex-
tent. They were in the midst of this field when they descried,
far down on the road from Dranesville, the head of a column of
Federal cavalry. There was no time to be lost; and a hurried
consultation was held.
“They must have passed us during the night!”
“Let’s get to the big pines where we were yesterday as soon
as we can.”
“We can’t do it in safety; the trees are half a mile off, and
the Feds would see us and fire on us sure.”
“What are we to do, then 7”
“There's some second growth just under the hill, across the
road; we might take shelter there.”
They had by this time reached the edge of the road; and the
A Venturesome Venture. 75
last suggestion seeming the most feasible plan, they quickly act-
ed upon it. The road was crossed, and passing a small house
that stood by it, they gained the shelter of the young pines,
which were some six or seven feet in height.
“What are we to do here, Captain 7”
“We must annoy them as much as we can ; they’ve been up to
some deviltry at Dranesville, and they’ll think it’s got abroad
and we’re a large force sent to ambush them.”
“Mighty slim chance,” muttered one of the men.
“O, I don’t know about that ; I shall fire into them as they
pass; and though I am ready to die, if necessary, I think we’ll
all get off safely enough. They’ll be considerably confused by
the attack, and while they are getting ready to repulse the
strong party, we can get away to the big pines below, where
they never can catch us.”
“Well, I’ll stand by you, Captain,” answered Decaradeux,
firmly and without a moment's hesitation. ſº
There was a slight pause, and then, with white faces but flash-
ing eyes, the others added, in one voice:
“SO will I.”
“Look to your arms, then, and see that they are in perfect
Order.” º
All this time the body of cavalry had been steadily approach-
ing. At the head of the column rode Gen. Bayard, then rank-
ing as colonel, the officer in command. In the rear were the
Confederate pickets and about a dozen citizens of Dranesville
that they had captured and were taking back to Langley. They
were not more than twenty yards away, when Darrell gave the
final order to his men to look to the condition of their arms;
and as they rode on, he sprang to his feet with the words:
“Now, boys, let them have it.”
As the shot poured into their ranks, the men looked around
in terror, imagining that the whole Rebel army was hidden in
the pines. Many of them had wheeled and were about to beat
an ignominious retreat, regardless of everything but personal
safety, when the voice of their leader inspired them with more
courage.
“Steady, boys, steady; close up the ranks there; no running
away !”
As he spoke, he spurred his own horse onward, closely fol-
lowed by his staff officers; he advanced to a distance of five
76 A Venturesome Venture.
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A VentureSome Venture. * 77
yards from the bushes, when the fire of the Confederates again
blazed forth, and his horse fell, carrying him also to the ground.
At the same moment, two other officers fell, one killed, the other
mortally wounded. Col. Bayard speedily regained his feet, and
mounting the horse of one of these fallen men, endeavored to re-
store order among his men.
But it seemed as if they were hopelessly demoralized by the
fatal effects of the two volleys, and they had well-nigh become
uncontrollable when a woman, running out of the little house
which the scouts had passed, cried :
“There's only four of them . There’s only four men in the
bushes.”
Her tone was imploring, for she was a Southern woman, a friend
of the four men there concealed, and she meant rather to plead for
them than to encourage their enemies; but, half-frenzied by the
thought of such a small party being attacked by so large a force,
she did not consider that she was really betraying her friends.
Her words, of course, were far from having the effect which she
intended. The Federals needed no encouragement from their
officers when once assured that the attacking force did not con-
sist of the whole Confederate army; they rallied, and while
some were dismounted that the bushes might be the more thor-
oughly searched, others were so disposed as to prevent the es-
cape of the enemy by flight.
Matters had taken a desperate turn for the scouts; Decara-
deux had been wounded in the right hand, Coleman had a bul-
let in his side; the only hope of safety lay in their being able
to reach the big pines where they had, the evening before, wait-
ed for this very body of troops. But this movement on their
part was anticipated by the enemy, for Bayard had completely
surrounded the clump of bushes, and had, besides, filled it with
his dismounted men. It was, then, in the midst of a circle of
foes that was rapidly closing around him, that Darrell stopped
under a sapling to reload his revolver. He heard their yells
and howls around him, as the traveler over the Siberian wastes
hears the voice of the wolves pursuing him; as the stag hears the
yelping and baying of the hounds. His hand, however, was as
steady as ever in the safe solitude of his tent; not an unnecessary
grain of powder was poured from the flask, and as he rammed
the balls home and rose from the earth, his face, save from the
blazing eyes, was as calm as if he were beside a camp fire.
78 * . A Venturesome Venture.
The little group had scattered when the cavalrymen had first
entered the bushes, and Darrell was now quite alone. As he
rose to his feet, he became a target for several of the enemy,
and the balls whistled thick around his ears. The distance was
so short that nothing could save him but continual motion from
place to place. Darting from tree to tree, he at last stood in an
open space near the road, and looking toward it saw that a gap in
the fence was guarded by a single cavalryman. It seemed a golden
opportunity. He had answered with his revolver a few of the
many shots that had been fired at him, and now had but a single
load remaining; to fire on this man and hit him, might mean
escape; to fire and miss him meant certain death.
This flashed through his brain instantaneously. Quick as
thought he rushed at the horseman, raising his revolver as he
advanced ; the Federal raised his carbine and fired, but Darrell
had expected and provided for it; dodging to one side as he saw
the cavalryman’s finger on the trigger, he sprang like a wild cat
at the Federal’s throat, and with the muzzle of his pistol close
against the breast of the blue blouse, fired. The Yankee fell
like a stone as Darrell loosed his grasp upon his throat, and
the scout’s hand was on the rein. One moment more, and he
would be in the saddle ! &
IIis break toward the road had been perceived by some of the
comrades of the man he had killed, and they had closely fol-
lowed him. Rapid as his movements had been, they were up
with him when he grasped the rein, having the advantage of be-
ing mounted. A blow with the butt end of a carbine, and the
Confederate lay senseless under the feet of their horses, that,
suddenly checked in their course, reared and plunged above him,
striking his prostrate body with their hoofs. One of the men
threw himself from his horse and bent over the scout.
“Is he dead 7” asked another.
“Dead as a herring,” answered the first, rising.
But it proved to be a livelier corpse than he thought; for Dar-
rel had been but momentarily stunned, and now, as he regained
his senses, raised his head from the earth
“Get up,” commanded one, roughly, assisting him by the time
honored means of grasping his collar.
Dizzy and half-blinded, Darrel regained his feet, to find him-
self the center of a group of men, apparently gathered from all
countries on the face of the globe. In his ears, that still rang
A Venturesome Venture. 79
with the force of the blow he had received, there now sounded
a perfect Babel of languages. Recovering himself by an effort,
he wrenched the carbine from the hand of one of the cavalry-
men standing by, and was about to club it, when half a dozen,
seeing his intention, snatched it from him and again held him,
this time more securely than before. As they were crowding
about him, now pushing him this way, now that, there was a
little man who held a cocked pistol in his hand, and who was
endeavoring to make his way through the group to its center,
elbowing his larger comrades right and left.
“Let the Italian at him,” suggested one, and the cry was
speedily taken up by others.
“Give me a pistol and put me in that field,” rejoined the scout
fiercely, “and I don’t care whether it's an Italian or a Yankee
that comes.”
There was a shout of laughter at this defiance, which was re-
doubled when another party came up with the cry:
“Here's the girl you left behind you !”
It was Lieut. Decaradeux, whose delicate features and pale
face looked extremely feminine under a black oil-cloth turban,
with which they had replaced his lost hat.
“ Humph 1” retorted another, as he saw the dignified air of the
young officer, “that fellow looks like he didn’t care what the
price of tobacco was. Who is he, anyhow 7”
The question was addressed to Capt. Darrell, who made no
2.In SW CI’.
The coarse raillery lasted for some time, being redoubled as
Coleman was brought up. Carper had succeeded in getting
away. The cavalrymen were only silenced by the appearance
of a staff-officer, who, riding up to the group, addressed Capt. Dar-
rell, claiming him as an old acquaintance at the University of
Virginia. He was Capt. McKewn, an adjutant of Gen. McCall,
and once in his care, of course, the prisoners were not further
molested. *
As the party approached Langley, they met a large force of
Federal troops; it was Gen. McCáll with his whole division. Hav-
ing heard the firing, he had thought, as Bayard’s command did,
that the reconnoitering party had been ambushed by the whole
Confederate force, and having no frightened female enemy to
reassure him, had ordered all the forces at his command to march
to the rescue.
80 A VentureSome Venture.
“So you brought out your division to capture four men, Gen-
eral,” said Captain Darrell. “Was it worth while?”
Gen. McCall looked at him half angrily for a moment, and then,
relaxing the muscles of his face as he saw the wicked gleam in
the prisoner's dark eye, replied:
“I don’t know. It succeeded, I believe.”
“Not quite,” persisted Darrell, “for one got away.”
The prisoners were well treated for the remainder of the
journey to Langley, whence they were sent to Washington.
There was an effort made to consider them as spies, and execute
them as such ; and the fact that the officer who had been killed
was a surgeon, a non-combatant, was made to seem a matter of
great importance; but they showed that they were on a recon-
noissance with a force of four infantry, as Col. Bayard had been
on a similar errand with a thousand cavalry, and the plea was
admitted ; as to the killing of the surgeon, it was evident that
if a uniformed, shoulder-strapped non-combatant chose to ride
at the head of a column under such circumstances, he must take
the consequences; certainly the enemy could not be expected to
draw such fine distinctions.
Cleared, then, of all accusations of a criminal nature, our
three scouts were remanded to the tedium of a military prison.
Here they occupied their time in discussing the best mode of
escape and in laying various plans, until the officer in charge,
growing suspicious, put them into solitary confinement. The
trouble about exchanging prisoners had not then arisen, and it
was not long before they were duly conducted, by the flag-of-
truce boat, back to the Confederate lines.
£HAPER VIII.
TEIE GEREAT RAILWAY RAID.
The Georgia State Railroad—The Backbone of the Confederacy—Going South—
Twenty Minutes for Breakfast—An Unlooked-for Interruption—A Ridiculous
Race—Cutting the Telegraph Wire—Beauregard's Powder—A Dangerous Delay
—The Reason For It—A Fatal Mistake—First Signs of Pursuit—The Race
Explained—Leaping Over the Obstructions—The Impossible is Done—Unsuc-
cessful Ruses—A New Danger—A Ray of Hope—The Engineer's Plan—The
Captain's—The Pursuit on Foot—Captured—Escape of Captain Andrews—Re-
capture—His Fate—Fate of His Companions—A Daring Escape—The Presi-
dent's Praise—The Missing.
S long as the Georgia State Railroad, extending from At-
lanta to Chattanooga, Tennessee, was in successful work-
ing order, there would be but little hope of ending the war in a
manner acceptable to the Northern states. It was “the back-
bone of the Confederacy;” the means of transporting supplies
of all kinds to the Southern army; and many a Federal com-
mander studied to cut off communication by this route. There
are thirteen bridges on the line of the road, and, were these
once burned, the desired end would be accomplished ; but it was
an undertaking requiring such a combination of address and
courage that only a party of volunteers could hope to succeed.
Nor must the leader be an ordinary man. Many an officer rack-
ed his brain to think how and by whom it could be done, but up
to the spring of 1862 no one had done more.
The importance of the undertaking was fully recognized by
every man in the army, but there had been no actual call for vol-
unteers when Capt. J. J. Andrews offered his services for the pur-
pose. Just at this time, it was doubly important that such a step
should be taken, for Gen. Mitchel was advancing upon Chatta-
nooga, which would fall an easy prey if no succor could be sent
81
82 The Great Railway Raid.
from Atlanta. Incited by his example, twenty-one men volun-
teered to follow where he should lead them; and the proffer
was gladly accepted by the officer in command.
The whole expedition was most carefully planned ; every link
must be perfect, for on that chain of events hung their lives,
nay, more—the success of the campaign. There must be no
repetition of the old story — “For want of a nail, the shoe was
lost.” Doffing their uniforms, they assumed the ordinary dress
of the country through which they were to make their way, and,
clad mostly in “butternut” jeans of various shades and qual-
ities, in garments of many different styles, they set out. Of
course so large a body would have excited suspicion, so some-
times singly, in some instances in squads of three or four, they
pressed on to Atlanta. They were provided with a ready answer
to all questions as to whence they came, and why and whither
they were going.
“Came from IKaintuck. Got kind er’ tired of the Tincoln
style of doin’ things, and thought I’d come South and join the
army. Many of our troops in the neighborhood 7”
It may readily be guessed that “our troops” did not mean
the army to which the questioner belonged ; but the reason for
leaving Kentucky, and the inquiry were sufficient to ward off all
suspicion; and their only difficulty was to escape from the gar-
rulity of the Southerner.
It was the 10th of April, 1862, when they met at the rendez-
vous appointed by Gen. Mitchel, a grove near Atlanta. The
more completely to disarm suspicion, they were to separate
again, and take the train at different points; most of them leav-
ing at Atlanta, and the last one becoming a passenger at Mari-
etta. All were to find seats in the forward car, and, of course,
to treat the others of the party as entire strangers. The follow-
ing morning, Saturday, was fixed as the time.
So well had their plans been laid that not an eye had pene-
trated their disguise. Marietta was but a few miles behind them
when the train stopped at Big Shanty, and the familiar announce-
ment: “Twenty minutes for breakfast !” greeted the ears of the
hungry passengers. There were many who did not leave the
cars; here a party of ladies and children had brought a goodly
supply of luncheon; there, an early riser had breakfasted before
leaving Atlanta, twenty-eight miles away. Nobody thought it
strange, then, that some of the men in the forward car should
The Great Railway Raid. 83
retain their seats, or lunch, like the rest of the travelers.
The manager of the railroad machine shops was on board the
train, and he, with the engineer and the conductor, Capt. Fuller,
made one of the numerous groups at the long table in the build-
ding which gave its name to the station. Every one had just
fairly settled himself to secure as much as he wished in the short-
est possible time, when Captain Andrews arose and walked out
of the car. There was no obstruction ; everything fell in with
their plans. Hastening back, he entered the rear door of the
car in which his men were seated, and walked slowly up the
aisle. It was the appointed signal, and the twenty-one men
were too alert and eager for the work to miss it. Not a moment
was lost. Each one knew what place, what duty had been as-
signed to him. Following the officer, they reached the fore-
most box-car, but not until one, detailed for the purpose, had
quickly withdrawn a coupling pin, leaving but three freight cars
attached to the locomotive and tender. The passenger coaches
were to be left where they were. Four of them, Capt. Andrews,
W. W. Brown, William Knight and Alfred Wilson, mounted the
engine; two, who were to act as brakemen, climbed to the top
of the box cars, and threw themselves flat; the remaining six-
tecn entered the foremost freight cars.
The camp-guards, just aroused from their lethargy, looked
curiously on, but did not realize that anything was wrong, un-
til, at a word from Andrews, Knight jerked open the steam valve
and the locomotive moved off.
“And then and there was hurrying to and fro;”
for every one was anxious to find out what had been done,
and how any further evil could be prevented. The alarm was
given to the officers of the train, and with quick energy sºapt.
Fuller rushed from the eating saloon, and shouting, “Come on 1’’
to his companions, leaped from the platform to the road-bed.
“What's he going to do P’ queried the puzzled bystanders;
and as they saw the three men run after the engine, a shout of
derision went up. It was echoed by the party who had captured
the locomotive, as, when rounding the first curve, they saw this
seemingly ridiculous effort at pursuit.
Sixteen miles an hour was the schedule time of the train, but
for some minutes this was much exceeded. The pedestrians
were, of course, easily distanced; but there was a messenger
swifter than steam, and if that were once in chase, all might
6 -
84 The Great Railway Raid.
still have been lost. There was no telegraph station at Big
Shanty, but they did not know how soon these panting runners
might reach one, or whether there might not be an instrument
which could be attached in such an emergency. But at such a
distance must the wires be cut, that there would be no possi-
bility of the point being reached, until they should have had time
to cut the wire in another place. Onward at full speed then
they went, until the sudden announcement that the steam was low,
and good time could not be made. A rest of three minutes was
sufficient to get the locomotive into first-class running order,
and, once more they dashed onward with renewed speed.
- Only for a few miles,
however, and again the
engine slowed up. John
Scott, lithe and active,
scrambles up the tele-
graph pole, and knock-
ing off the insulating
box, swings himself to
the ground by the wire.
Such damage might
easily be repaired, but
no wire can be obtained
to replace a piece taken
out nearer than Atlanta.
<i> Nº Sºlº IFortunately a small saw
sº was found on the engine,
and while some occu-
pied themselves in saw-
ing out a piece of wire several yards in length—ample for their
purpose—others, with a smooth iron bar, which was the only tool
at hand, pried some of the spikes from a rail, wrenched it from
its place, and laid it with all the other obstructions near by,
across the track. Of course, time was thus lost, but it was not val-
uable, for, until a certain irregular train had passed, they must
keep to the schedule, and they had gained on this by shortening
the stoppage at Big Shanty, and by their rapid run to this point.
“I guess we’ve got ahead of the lightning this time,” remarked
one, as, with the wire in his hand, he followed his comrades into
the box car. “If they do find out where it’s cut, they’ll have
to go back to Atlanta for a piece to mend it with.”
Cutting the Telegraph Wires.
• *

The Great Railway Raid. - 85
So carefully had they investigated the condition of the road,
that they knew the company had no engine between Atlanta and
Ringston, sixty miles apart. But, though it seemed unnecessary
to put more obstructions on the road, when they had such odds
in their favor, there was another stoppage made for that pur-
pose. Indeed, it seemed that everything was going according
to their wishes; they had been assured that the chief difficulty
would be to obtain possession of the locomotive ; that if that
were once done, success would be certain ; and not a single acci-
dent had happened; had it been a pleasure excursion, there could
have been no smoother course. There was no fear, then, of be-
ing overtaken, when they stopped at Cass Station for wood and
Wator. -
“What train’s this yere !” asked the tank-tender, looking sus-
piciously at the three freight cars without any passenger coaches
attached. “Tain't Fuller's, is it?”
“No,” answered Andrews, readily, “I’m running a lot of pow-
der through to Gen. Beauregard at Corinth. Got to hurry up,
too; he wants it mighty bad. Reckon Fuller’ll be along in a
little while. His train ain’t quite due yet. Can you get me a
time schedule of the road 7”
“Reckon I kin, if I try right hard. Much powder aboard ”
“Right smart,” answered the disguised soldier, and in a mo-
ment more the train was on her way again, provided with a
complete time schedule of the road.
Ringston, thirty-two miles from Atlanta, was reached, and here
a telegram from the northern part of the road bade “Fuller's
train * wait for the down freight, which Andrews had fully ex-
pected to find waiting for him. Inwardly chafing at the delay,
he could only draw off to a side track and wait for the train
that was already over-due. -
“’Pears like you’re in a mighty big hurry, ” said the station-
master, discerning his impatience,
“I am,” answered Andrews, thus encouraged to cast away
disguise. “For I’ve got a lot of powder that Gen. Beauregar
is in a hurry for.” --
“Pretty risky takin’ it over the road now, ain’t it?”
“Why should it be any riskier now than at any other time 7”
asked the captain, preparing to remount his engine, as he saw
the delayed freight train approaching.
The long line of cars rumbled by, and the station master
86 *: The Great Railway Raid.
pointed to a red flag on the hind most, as it disappeared from view.
“Know what that means ?”
“Yes; it means there's another train to come,” was the re-
ply, given from a sinking heart.
“And there’s another behind that. You see, that d-d Yank,
Mitchel, is coming down on Chattanooga like a thousand o'
brick; providin', of course, he kin git thar; and all the rollin’
stock's been ordered to Atlanta.”
“I didn’t expect to meet them here,” answered Andrews,
coolly,” “I’ve got to get through before Mitchel gets to Chatta-
nooga.” -
“You’ll have to hurry up, then,” was the suggestion.
“I intend to,” was the reply, with unmistakable emphasis.
After a delay of twenty-five minutes, the last car of the third
train rolled by, and the track was clear. Onward, at a frightful
rate, plunged the engine, as if the very metal knew what the
men directing its course would have. The extra train, so much
dreaded, had passed close in the wake of the freights; there was
another (passenger) train to be met at Adairsville, ten miles
from Kingston, but finding this behind time, Andrews decided
to take the risk of collision, and dashed on towards Calhoun,
ten miles further. Just as they neared the station, the belated
train was seen approaching; but the stranger backed and gave
the road to the “special powder train.”
They had passed the bridge over the Etowah without destroy-
ing it, because they thought at that point in the race the imme-
diate gain of time was the most important thing; but now they
were approaching one which must be burned ; now they were
about to commence the work for which they had volunteered.
Any moment might bring the Ostenaula River in sight, and
with the long bridge which spanned that stream destroyed be-
hind them, there need be no fear of failure. But all possible
precautions must be taken ; there were engines at Kingston,
they knew ; it was barely possible that a telegraphic despatch
might have been sent around a wide circuit of two thousand miles,
to send in pursuit one of the trains they had just passed. So a rail
must be torn up; this would give them time, even in such a case,
to burn this bridge. Again the wire, that, for all they knew,
was even then transmitting their betrayal, must be severed; and
while this was being accomplished by some, others wrenched
some of the huge spikes from their rusted places, and endeavor-
The Great Railway Raid. 87
ed to pull it loose ; for their haste was too great to give them
time for removing all the fastenings. f
But as they worked with feverish energy, there was heard a
sound more terrible than the growl of a tiger in his native jun-
gle—the whistle of a locomotive behind them. The noise lent
new strength to their muscles, and the rail, only half loosened,
snapped like a dry twig. Losing their hold thus suddenly, the
wreckers were precipitated down the embankment; but it was
no time to think of small disasters, and gathering themselves up
hastily, they scrambled into the train again. Their only chance,
now, was to get the bridge to burning well before the pursuers
could pass the gap in the track.
What train was it? Secure in his knowledge that there was
no engine between Kingston and Atlanta, Andrews felt that it
must be one of those that they had just passed, and was puzzled
to account for the pursuit. Had the long telegraphic circle real-
ly been made 7 But the disclosure made at Kingston about the
freight-trains reassured them ; there could be few, if any, en-
gines between them and Chattanooga, and this bridge burned—
It is time for us to return to the three men whom we left run-
ning after the locomotive as it took its flight from Big Shanty.
Theirs was not so hopeless an undertaking as at first sight it ap-
peared. Possessed of a much more intimate knowledge of the
road, of course, than Capt. Andrews could command, Capt. Ful-
ler knew that they might find a locomotive south of Kingston.
True, the soldier had not been misinformed about the location
of the company’s engines, but from a point a short distance
above Big Shanty there was a private track, some five miles in
length, leading to some extensive iron mines and furnaces on
the Etowah ; and on this branch line there was an engine be-
longing to the owner of the mines. Of course Andrews could
not know of the existence of this unimportant line, and had not,
therefore, taken it into his calculations; otherwise, he would,
at any risk, have burned the bridge over the Etowah.
The three men had not run many hundred feet before they
came to the place where the telegraph had been cut; and just
beyond this point, they espied a hand-car. This was a most val-
uable acquisition, for with it, by hard work, they could make
seven or eight miles an hour; and speed was the more necessary,
as they could not tell where they should find the locomotive
—whether at the main road or five miles from it, at the mines.
88 The Great Railway Raid.
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The Great Railway Raid. 89
With perspiration streaming from their bodies they worked at
the hand-car, and it went, as we may well believe, at the utmost
speed of which such a machine is capable. So anxiously did
they look far ahead, so resolutely did they work, that the sec-
ond obstruction in the track was not perceived, and the whole
party, with their car, were flung headlong from the track. No
bones were broken, however, and lesser injuries were disregard-
ed; the hand-car was soon lifted on the track, and in a few
minutes more they had reached the junction of the two lines.
Never was sight more welcome than that of the “Yonah,”
standing, fired up, on the main track, headed for Kingston. One
wild, hoarse shout from the three throats showed that they
were not yet exhausted, and they hastily mounted the engine;
the engineer readily giving place to the men urging the neces-
sity of acting for the Government. Onward to Kingston, then,
they flew, congratulating themselves that they had arrived at
that moment ; for five minutes later, the locomotive would
have left again for the mines.
Ringston was reached, but there was no fugitive train in sight.
Three long freights—the Yonah cannot pass, and there is no
time to be lost. On a side track, joining the main one, beyond
the freight trains, stood a small engine fired up, and although
it is but weak and has very small wheels, it is better than the
Yonah, because in a more available position. It was seized and
urged onward at its utmost speed; the fireplace was crammed with
wood, and because it was too small to hold the fuel necessary
for great speed, an abundance of oil was used. Onward, faster,
faster still, until a keen eye discovered a break in the track ahead
—a rail was gone. One could have been torn up from the track
behind them and laid in the place before the engine, but that would
have consumed too much time. Impatient to be going onward,
it seemed better to go forward on foot, and risk finding another
engine, than to lose so much time there. Again they run along
the road, and at last the freight-train, which the raiders had
passed at Adairsville, came thundering on. Taking command
of this train at once, Fuller backed it rapidly to Adairsville,
uncoupled the greater part of the cars, and, tender first, made
the ten miles to Calhoun in twelve minutes. The Texas, the en-
gine now in their possession, was one of the largest and fastest
on the road, and the result was almost certain.
At last the stolen locomotive was in sight, and almost as if
90 The Great Railway Raid.
she had been possessed of human joy, the Texas gives the long
scream of defiance which so startled Andrews' party. Onward
she plunged in mad pursuit of her prey. But yonder, in the
track before them, what was that? A blank, not the whole
length of a rail, but still a blank that might prove fatall It was
too late to stop the engine, at so fearful a rate were they going;
“faster, faster,” Fuller signaled to the engineer. Fortunately, it
•was on the inside of the track; if it had been on the outside
nothing could have prevented the wreck of the pursuing train.
As it was, the increased rate of speed sent the Texas, with a
bound, over the blank.
Onward dashed the foremost train, the men in it congratulat-
ing themselves upon the delay which the broken rail would oc-
casion their pursuers. Still, they looked anxiously back. It
was but a chance, after all, if they should succeed, and failure
meant more than death; that chance was, whether it would take
the enemy longer to replace the broken rail than it would take
them to render the bridge impassable.
“O my God!” exclaimed the fireman. & .
“What is it, Wilson 7” asked the others, struck by his tone
of dismay and astonishment.
“They’re still in chase, ’’ he replied, despairingly.
“Impossible !” broke from their lips, as from one man, and
they looked at each other for reassurance. Surely the enemy
was not still in pursuit; he could not so soon have replaced the
broken rail.
“There's the smoke from their fire,” he answered, pointing
back. .
“And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before,”
the whistle of the Texas broke upon their ears. Had a mira-
cle been wrought against them 7 How had that broken rail
been passed ?
There was yet a possibility of stopping them without losing
much time in the flight. They were now upon a steep down
grade, where it would be difficult to check so large and heavy
an engine as that in pursuit ; so in the hope of wrecking it, the
hindmost of the box-cars was uncoupled and left on the track.
It was but little more than the truck; the top and sides had been
used as fuel; but they hoped it might serve to delay the enemy.
It was a hope doomed to disappointment, for the Texas picked
it up and steamed on in their wake, gaining on them every
The Great Railway Raid. 91
minute. Again the ruse was tried, but again it failed of its ob-
ject. Soon the bridge over the Ostenaula was visible — the
bridge that was to be the first to be given to the flames, but so
close were the pursuers that they dared not pause, even to burn
it, and they rushed on.
The enemy must be delayed, and after they had gone a few
miles further, they stopped and braced up a rail under a cross
tie, with the projecting end down the road. It was a loss of time
that could ill be spared, but at last it was done, and the flight
continued.
Again they had failed to produce the desired result; the Texas
dashed onward, the small dark rail invisible to even the watch-
ful eyes of the men upon her; fortunately for them, the obstruc-
tion was lightly cast aside by the cow-catcher, though a slight
change in its position, a difference of an inch in height, might
have thrown her from the track. As an eagle darts upon a falcon
that holds in its beak a tempting morsel, the Texas seemed to
swoop down, pitilessly, certainly, upon her prey.
It was a strange sight that the wayside stations saw that day
—a locomotive with a single truck attached, dashing onward
like a flash, followed at equal speed by two longer trains; for
two other engines with their attached cars had taken up the
chase, and were close in the wake of the Texas. Was it a party
of madmen on the first 7 The loungers on the platform could not
tell, nor could they imagine a more reasonable explanation. Only
the twenty-two Federal soldiers, crowded into the cab and the
nearly empty tender, could tell certainly ; though Fuller and his
companions might have given a shrewd guess.
But a new element of danger was now to be considered : Dal-
ton, twenty-two miles from Calhoun, was the junction of this
line and another; of course they could not destroy telegraphic
communication on both roads, or oven seriously interrupt it ;
no matter which wire is cut, along the other will soon flash from
the pursuers to their comrades north of them, the message of
capture, failure, perhaps of death ! Looking back they conid
see that their pursuers were armed to the teeth; the truck of
what had once been the first box-car, the only one remaining, and
the tender, afforded them no protection ; it was with a sick-
ening sense of having committed some fatal error that they real-
ized why no balls came whizzing past—their pursuers were cer-
tain of taking them alive.
92 The Great Railway Raid.
There was no chance of accomplishing the end of their expe-
dition by destroying the bridges on the road; they must go at
full speed for their very lives. But one hope yet remained, the
one car still attached to their engine had served them well in
protecting the superfluous mon from the curious scrutiny of the
station masters and others with whom they had passed as hands
of a powder train ; its top and sides were the only fuel yet remain-
ing to them ; but it must do yet more. As they approach a long
covered bridge, they slacken their speed ; the car has already
been set on fire, and just as they enter the bridge it is uncoupled.
Carried onward by the impetus it has acquired, it reaches the
middle of the bridge before it finally stops; and by that time
the engine is once more dashing over the solid road beyond the
stream. As they round the curve north of the bridge, they see
the black smoke of the Texas approaching the entrance. One
crash, and it will be over; the road hopelessly blocked, the pur-
suers delayed, perhaps killed; the bridge, it may be, destroyed.
They strain their ears to hear, above the noise of their own
engine, that terrible sound which would be so welcome; but it
does not come. The pursuers are as determined as the pursued ;
there is no lack of skill in handling their engine, or in removing
obstacles from the track; the blazing car is pushed before the
locomotive until a side track is reached; then the road is clear ;
and with redoubled energy the Texas bounds onward.
More than a hundred miles had the exciting race continued,
and both engines were nearly exhausted. The foremost one,
however, as will be remembered, had run further than the other;
besides, she was smaller and weaker, less fit for such a run, and
had been less carefully oiled. As the natural and inevitable re-
sult of this lack of care, and her rapid rate of traveling, the
brass on boxes and journals had actually melted, her tires were
red-hot, and every joint was loose. She could hold out but a
little while longer, and that only at a speed which would per-
mit her to be easily overtaken.
A hurried council of war was held by the men, whose smoke-
blackened faces were stern with the shadow of defeat.
“There’s only three or four on that engine,” suggested one,
“and they seem to want to fight—all fixed for it. We could
easily beat 'em ; it's five or six to one.”
“But what would be the use of that ?” asked the leader, more
than doubtfully, “we can’t whip the whole Confederacy; and
The Great Railway Raid. 93
their engine must be pretty nigh as bad as this, so we could not
get off on that. You must remember there's two others behind
this first one.”
“Their engine ain’t anything like as bad as ours,” said the
engineer; “and if we could get hold o' that one, we could run
it back and wreck the second, and the third could pick up the
pieces while we get off.”
But Capt. Andrews shook his head decidedly.
“It can’t be done,” he said ; “it’s too big a risk; we’ll have
to leave the road and take to the woods—‘Every man for himself,
and God for us all.’”
The old, heartless, selfish proverb took a new meaning as this
man spoke it; who knows but it was a prayer from the reckless,
daring heart of the leader for those who had followed him into
danger ?
The soldierly habit of obedience prevailed over the American
habit of independent thought and action, and the engine was
run yet a few miles further, to give them all as good a start
as possible. They were now fifteen miles from Chattanooga.
The locomotive slackened speed, but did not wholly stop; man
after man jumped from it as it moved slowly onward through
the pine woods, until but one man was left. The pursuers were
four hundred yards behind when he reversed the engine, and
following his comrades, disappeared in the vast and trackless for-
est. Then the locomotive steamed backward, like the last mis-
sile hurled by the hand of a dying man; but again their efforts
to obstruct the pursuers’ course failed, and the Texas stopped
but a moment to pick up the engine, whose power was almost
spent when it reached her.
The flight through the woods was but a short one. Dismounting
from the engine as soon as he saw what their plans were, Fuller
pressed into service a sorry looking mule, the first steed that
presented itself; and with a rope for a bridle, and no saddle,
continued the pursuit; joined as he went on, by all the idlers in
the neighborhood. g
As the story of the chase spread, men left every occupation
to assist in the work of the government; and soldiers and citi-
zens combined to hunt the poor fugitives. Such was the numeri-
cal power of their pursuers, that Andrews and his scattered force
would have had but little chance of escape, even if the advan-
tage of a superior knowledge of the country had not been with
94
The Great Railway Raid.
ºs punoſ/pooņg ſygąºm pºlºngdo0 s.dºwosą. (aſ pºdºbosq
3

The Great Railway Raid. 95
the Tennesseeans. As it was, the odds were overwhelming. One
after another was captured, until the whole party was in the
hands of the Confederate authorities at Chattanooga, and lodged
in the jail in that city. Here, handcuffed and chained together
in groups of twos and threes, they lay for a week uncertain
what was to be their doom.
It came only too soon. Just a week had,
“Like a wounded snake, dragged its slow length along,”
when Andrews was condemned to death. This was their first
intimation that, although they had been engaged in a legitimate
military enterprise, they were to be treated not as prisoners of
war, but as spies.
Capt. Andrews made a desperate effort to escape when he
learned the sentence that had been passed upon him, and suc-
ceeded in so far eluding the vigilance of his guards as to get be-
yond the walls of the jail, beyond even the outskirts of the
town. But the man who could plan and so nearly execute such a
daring project was too dangerous a foe to be allowed to escape in
this way; the whole garrison joined in the hunt, aided by those
dreadful allies of the man-hunters, bloodhounds. Once on the
track, the capture was but a question of time; surely these hun-
dreds could overtake the one half-starved fugitive, flying through
a hostile country with which he was but imperfectly acquainted.
The event soon proved that theirs was not a mistaken estimate;
soon the bloodhounds were at his throat, only to be called off
by the pursuers in human form.
Torn and bleeding, and so heavily chained that he could
hardly move the limbs, once so powerful, but now weakened
by hunger and fatigue, he was taken back to Chattanooga.
But there was danger that Gen. Mitchel might advance upon
this point; so, “to make assurance doubly sure,” he was
taken to Atlanta for execution. Over the self-same road
where, such a little while before, the exciting run had taken
place; then, leaving Atlanta with high hopes of rendering good
and much-needed service to his country, now approaching it with
the certainty of speedy death, in its most ignominous form; then,
with a thought of the bride whose hand awaited him on his re-
turn—a thought banished to make room for stern duty; now,
with the knowledge that she would be widowed before she was
a wife. But most of all, it was the form of death—the punish-
ment of malefactors, the synonym of disgrace.
96 The Great Railway Raid.
The people of Atlanta were gathered in solemn rejoicing
about the scaffold. No one under-estimated the force of the
blow which the success of the expedition would have given the
Confederacy, and yet, an eye-witness tells us:
“There was perfect order; no jeers, no taunts, no unseemly
behavior to mar the deep solemnity of the occasion.”
The joy of the people at the triumph of their cause grew
silent, as they looked upon the brave soldier of the enemy,
about to die.
|Farther we need not follow him. We leave him in the sight
of the scaffold, and return to those companions whom we left in
the jail at Chattanooga. Twelve of them were in a short time
removed to Knoxville, where a court-martial was to decide their
fate; day after day the trial dragged on, the prisoners being
tried singly. The same defense was offered for all; that if they
were in citizens’ dress, it was the same that the Confederate
government had authorized the guerillas to wear; that they
were sent for a purely military purpose, for the accomplishment
of an object recognized as legitimate by the rules of war; that
they should be treated, not as spies, but as prisoners of war.
The defense was not accepted by the majority of the judges,
and in military courts a unanimous verdict is not necessary to
conviction or acquittal. Seven had been tried and condemned,
when the rapid advance of Gen. Mitchel upon Chattanooga re-
called to their regiments the officers composing the court-mar-
tial. Hardly an hours' notice of their execution was given to
the seven condemned men, before they were led to the scaffold,
to die as their leader had died. º
“We would not care so much to be shot as soldiers, but to be
hanged like dogs is a burning shame.”
Such was the protest offered by one; he only spoke as Nathan
Hale had spoken seventy-five years before, and with as little ef-
fect upon his hearers.
So uncertain were the fortunes of war, so rapid and perplex-
ing the movements of Gen. Mitchel, that the fourteen who had
not yet been tried were removed to the more secure prison at
Atlanta. Here they found friends in the negroes employed
about their place of confinement. As soon as the faithful crea-
tures learned that the one thing most desired was news from the
outer world, they contrived to smuggle newspapers in and out
of the jail every day, by concealing them in the trays of food.
The Great Railway Raid. 97
So the summer and autumn passed slowly by, until, one day,
the provost-marshal informed them that he had received a letter
from the Secretary of War at Richmond, asking why all of the
“crgine thieves” had not been hanged; that an order for their
immediate execution would, in all probability, speedily follow.
He was not mistaken. Replying that they awaited the orders
of the Secretary, he speedily received instructions to execute.
them at once.
Narrowly, during the long days that had preceded the exe-
cution of this order, had they watched for a chance of escape,
but in vain. So vigilant were their keepers that they dared not
attempt it, for failure would entail worse treatment. However,
there can be no punishment equal to death, and now that all
hope was gone, they determined to make one last, desperate ef-
fort. Seizing and gagging their jailor, they wrenched the keys
from his grasp and rushed down stairs. They came upon the
guards before any alarm could be given, overpowered them by
main force, and possessed themselves of their guns.
Scaling the walls which surrounded the prison, they fled
through the streets, past the scattered houses of the suburbs,
into the woods. A regiment was speedily ordered out to pur-
sue them, with orders to take them, dead or alive.
The fugitives had no time for consultation; they knew only
that they must separate, for they were too few for defense, and
yet enough to excite suspicion. Two pushed in a southerly di-
rection, and after almost incredible adventures, reached the
shores of the Gulf—the Star-Spangled Banner waved, before
their eyes, over a U. S. gunboat; never to shivering, starving
men, with bleeding feet and half-frozen limbs, flying from a dis-
graceful death, did any sight appear so beautiful.
Two went westward, hiding by day in the thick, moss-cover-
ed trees, that even winter could not rob of their protecting
power; and journeying with feverish haste by night until Cor-
inth, then in the hands of the National troops, was safely
reached.
Two others made their way northward by slow and painful
stages, having to contend with a greater degree of cold than
their comrades, who did not leave the extreme South. For
three weeks they journeyed on, not daring to leave their hiding
places by any light but that of the stars; living upon roots
found in the woods and raw sweet potatoes dug from the fields,
98 The Great Railway Raid.
save when some secret sympathizer with the Union would extend
a trembling hand to help them. At last they reached a point in
Rentucky which was held by the Federal forces, and were
thence returned to their regiments, where they were received as
if they had come from
“That undiscovered country, from whose bourne
No traveler returns.”
Six were recaptured, taken back to Atlanta, and thence to
Richmond. Why the sentence of death was not executed, we
are not told ; perhaps the authorities, at first, determined to
wait until all had been retaken, and then, as this proved a futile
hope, forgot them. Many times their hearts beat high at
the report that they were to be exchanged, until at last they
came to disregard all such rumors. They had sunk into apathy
when there came an order from headquarters directing that they
be placed on a flag-of-truce boat the next morning, to be trans-
ported, with others, to the Union lines, to be exchanged. The
sullen calmness with which they had learned to endure life vanish-
ed at once in a wild rejoicing. Soon they were once more safe-
ly beneath the Stars and Stripes, that floated over the flag-of-
truce boat. Honorable and affectionate was the welcome that
awaited them—they had earned it all; and when they saw the
tall, gaunt form and homely, kindly face of the President, and
heard his words of praise and gratitude, they could but think of
the eight who lay in dishonored graves in the far South, whose
fate they were yet to learn; and regret that all had not been
there, to share in the reward. -
We have traced the fate of twenty — eight to the scaffold,
twelve to liberty again; and twenty-two had volunteered for the
undertaking. The story of those two has never yet been told—
their wanderings in the forest, their sufferings from hunger and
cold, their hopes, their fears, their despair—nor will it be told
Until the sea gives up its dead, and from many a nameless and
unknown grave shall then come forth their long-forgotten ten-
ants. Perhaps long afterward, two whitened skeletons essayed
to tell the tale to adventurous hunter or pioneer farmer, but in
a land where war had lately been, he could not read it aright.
- ſhares IX
A SOLITARY SCOUT.
His Errand–In the Enemy's Country—A Cordial Reception—A Mistaken Crowd—
Cool Impudence—The Gunboats for Land Use—A Yankee Trick—Decidedly
Brilliant—A Horse in Church—A Scared Justice—A Friendly Warning—
Asleep in the Storm—In a New Role—The Guest of a Regiment—An Unsuc-
cessful Attempt—Pursued by Bloodhounds—Running Water—A Novel Bed—
A Dusky Friend—A Feast—A Horse and Buggy Impressed—Arrived in Style
—Safe in Camp.
(TNORPORAL PIKE, of the Fourth Ohio Cavalry, was al-
O ready most favorably known to his superior officers by his
scouting services, when, early in April, 1862, he was dispatched
by Gen. Mitchel to Decatur, Alabama, to gather information
regarding the strength of the enemy, and, if possible, to destroy
the railroad bridge at that point. He went alone, as he would
thus beliable to less suspicion, and would be better able to es-
cape, if pursued, than if accompanied by a small force; while a
large one was, of course, out of the question.
His solitary ride was attended by no adventure, until he drew
near Fayetteville, Tennessee. Night overtook him before he
reached the town, and turning aside from the road he made him-
self comfortable in the woods. Bright and early the next morn-
ing he rode into Fayetteville. He had not attempted to disguise
himself, and was in full blue uniform; but this was a dress often
assumed by the Confederates, just as gray or butternut was don-
ned by the Federals when occasion demanded. -
His boldness in riding up to the hotel and ordering breakfast
for himself and suitable attention for his horse, made the crowd
that speedily collected believe him a Confederate in disguise.
Perceiving this, he determined to take advantage of it. Return-
ing to his room after having seen that his horse was cared for,
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100 A Solitary Scout.
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he found about three hundred men on the sidewalk in front of
the hotel. Hailing him as he approached, one asked:
“What is your name, sir?” -
“James Pike.”
“Of what regiment?”
“Fourth Ohio Cavalry.”
The men in the crowd cast significant glances at each other, as
much as to say that he had it all cut and dried, but couldn’t fool
them—no, sir. -
“Where is your command 7” inquired another.
“At Shelbyville.”
“What are you doing here alone, then, so far from your regi-
ment?” demanded a third.
“Well, sir, if you must know it, I came to demand the sur-
render of the town.”
As the cool impudence of the statement dawned upon them,
the crowd indulged in a hearty laugh at the idea of one man's
capturing a town like that, and from lip to lip passed the whis-
per: -
“He must be one of Morgan’s men.” -
“O, of course he’s not what he says he is; he wouldn’t dare.”
He sat down to the breakfast table, at which several Confed-
erate officers were regaling themselves, and made a hearty
meal. Then, going out into the crowd again, he asked of one
who seemed to be a man of authority: -
“Can you tell me, sir, where I can see the mayor?”
“The mayor? May I ask what you want with him 7”
“I want to demand the surrender of the town.”
By this time the crowd were prepared to enter into the joke,
and one answered : g
“We couldn’t think of surrendering until we see your gun-
boats coming along. A Yankee is'nt half a soldier unless he has
a gunboat to back him.”
“The gunboats will be along, you needn’t be afraid,” answered
the Federal.
“How are they going to get here?” asked another, looking
around, with pretended anxiety for the water which was to trans-
port them. -
“O, Gen. Mitchel has just had some made by a new pattern, in-
tended to run on land, and they are made with steel soles and
Spring gunners.” replied the corporal, gravely.
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A Solitary Scout. 101
“Well, he'll have to show us how they work, before this town
will surrender to one man.”
“O, he used them with great effect at Bowling Green the
other day; hadn’t you heard of it?” - -
“Say, if you’re a Yankee, show us a Yankee trick; then we’ll
believe you,” suggested one.
“Maybe I will before I go.”
“Well, you might as well own up, and tell us where the Cap-
tain is.” -- --
“Yes, do; we’d like to know the best in the world.”
“What Captain do you mean, gentlemen?”
“Why, Captain Morgan, of course.” -
“Well, I’m sorry I can’t tell you, but I really don’t know. I
am Corporal James Pike, of the Fourth Ohio Cavalry, and am
not informed of Captain Morgan’s movements.” *
There was a general laugh at this disavowal of the character
which they persisted in believing was his true one, and Corpo-
ral Pike, having ordered his horse, mounted and galloped off
toward Huntsville, while they were still in a good humor. Just
as he rode off, one called out to him:
“Where’s the Yankee trick you promised to show us?”
“Just wait awhile and you’ll see it,” he called back.
Riding five miles, he came to Wells' Hill, where there is a
fork in the road; one leading to Huntsville, and the other to
Decatur. As he turned his horse’s head to take the latter, he
saw, coming along a branch of that leading to Huntsville, a
wagon train. He immediately decided that, as there was no
guard with the train, this was the opportunity for his “Yankee
trick.” He changed his course then, and went to meet the
train. - .
“Drive that wagon up here close by the fence,” he ordered
the driver of the first. -
“When did you get to be wagon-master?” asked the driver.
“When you put your musket out of reach of your arm as you
drove,” he answered, his finger on the trigger of his revolver.
“Drive up, I say.”
Without further question, the man did as he was bid, and the
drivers of the other wagons prudently followed his example.
The wagon-master was some distance behind the train, but
spurred up when he saw the stoppage, and asked, in language
more forcible than polite, what was the meaning of this.
r---
102 A Solitary Scout. *
“It means that you’d better get up into that fence corner
d–d quick,” answered the soldier. The wagon-master carried
revolvers in his belt, but what are a dozen so disposed, to one,
cocked, in the hand of your opponent, pointed directly at you?
He was quickly disarmed; then—
“What's in those wagons?”
“Fodder,” answered the wagon-master; “don’t you see it?”
“What's underneath the fodder 7” *
No one answered for a moment; then one of the drivers said
that it was bacon— four thousand pounds on each wagon.
“All right; it isn’t Fourth of July, but I guess we’ll have a
bonfire now, for fear you don’t have one then,” answered the
soldier.
Taking some matches from his pocket, he deliberately set fire
to the dry corn-blades and other fodder with which the meat
was covered, and soon a bright blaze, accompanied by a thick
black smoke, rose in the air. The men in the fence-corner dared
not move; the drivers had left their muskets in the wagons, and
wore no side-arms; neither they nor the wagon-master dared
make a movement towards them. The fire grew hotter and
fiercer; no long time was required to consume such combusti-
ble material, and the wagons were soon so far destroyed that
there was no possibility of saving them or any portion of them.
Turning then to the men who still stood in the fence-corner, he
ordered the wagon-master to mount his horse and the drivers to
mount the mules which had been harnessed to the wagons, and
had them ride before him to the junction of the two roads lead-
ing to Fayetteville. Halting here, he said to them:
“Now, you ride into town as fast as you can go. I am going
to count one hundred, and if you’re not out of sight as soon as .
I have finished, I’ll shoot.”
But long before he had completed the count, they were out of
sight, and he free to turn down the road to Decatur. Riding rapid-
ly until he had put about ten miles between himself and Wells'
Hill, he came to a small country church. It was Sunday, and
the congregation was most devoutly listening to the sermon; but
in that congregation there might be Confederate soldiers. De-
termined, like a prudent general, to leave no enemy in his rear,
and yet knowing that it might be dangerous to dismount in or-
der to investigate, he spurred his horse up the two or three
steps that the floor of the building was raised above the ground,
*
A Solitary Scout. - 103
right into the middle and only aisle. As the horse's hoofs
struck loudly upon the floor, the congregation started from its
attitude of rapt attention, the preacher, whose hand was raised
and in the act of coming down with a thump upon the pulpit,
paused in the sermon and the gesture, to look at the singular
spectacle of an armed horseman in a church.
“Sorry to interrupt you, sir,” he said, addressing the preach-
er; “are there any Southern soldiers in the church 1”
“I—I believe not, sir,” replied the startled divine, turning
his eyes instinctively to the back door, which stood open.
Suspecting that there had been Southern soldiers in the build-
ing a few moments ago, and that the back door had been their
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A Horse in Church.
means of exit, he directed the
preacher to offer a prayer for the
㺠President of the United States,
º 㺠backed his horse out of the
building, and rode on, realizing that in rapid movement was
his only safety from an aroused country, and he saw that he had
already disturbed the worshipers only too completely. Soon,
however, he met two unarmed Confederates, who were leisurely
riding along to church, not dreaming of a roaming Yankee
knight so far within the lines.
“Halt l” came the order, speedily obeyed. He demanded their
names, regiments and companies; and having received the de-
sired information, said to them : *-
“I am very sorry for it, but it is so far outside our lines that




















104 - A Solitary Scout.
there is only one way left for me to dispose of you.”
“My God P’ exclaimed one; “you don’t mean to shoot us?”
“I am very sorry, but it can not be helped ; it is the only
thing that can be done, as I see.”
“I pledge you my honor I will go with you in good faith,”
said the other.
“It seems mighty hard to be shot down without a chance of
defending yourself,” murmured the first.
Corporal Pike did not answer for a moment, being apparently
lost in thought. Then, reluctantly: e
“Well, if you’ll take the oath of allegiance to the United
States, I guess I’ll let you go.” #
To this they agreed, and holding up his right hand and re-
moving his cap, he caused them to uncover their heads and lift
their right hands to heaven. But it seemed like blasphemy,
this adminstering an oath when he had no right to do so, and
having tested their willingness, he said to them: -
“Well, gentlemen, I guess I’ll rely on your honor to do noth-
ing towards pursuing me or giving information of me.”
And with lightened hearts they rode on to church. Proceed-
ing on his way, he met and very much frightened an old man
riding to Fayetteville, who admitted that he was going thither
to try, as judge, a number of cases, chiefly “political;” court
opening the next day. Knowing the meaning of the word as used
in those times, the scout took a delight in scaring the old man
considerably, and sent him flying on to Fayetteville at a greatly
increased speed. Pushing on rapidly then, until he had passed
several houses, he reached a shallow Creek. Judging it advisable
to leave the road, and to put all possible pursuers off his track
as far as possible, he guided his horse into the stream, and a
considerable distance along the current; so that it might not be
easily determined just where he had left the road. -
The creek led him into the woods; and here he rode along by-
paths until nearly sunset, when he saw, through the trees, an
old man crossing the road which he had left. Checking his horse,
he waited until the new comer should be within easy speaking
distance. -
“Bless my soul l’’ exclaimed the old man, as, quietly thread-
ing his way and looking intently forward, he saw the horseman
coming suddenly in front of him. r-
“You wouldn’t have seen me if I hadn’t spurred up then, and
A Solitary Scout. - 105
showed myself, I guess,” said the soldier, with a laugh.
“I reckon not, sir; I reckon not ; wouldn’t have seen you at
all.”
“Do you know who I am?”
The old man looked intently at him, but said not a word. Fi-
nally the corporal spoke:
“I am a Federal soldier—”
“Bless my soul | Are you, though, sure enough 7”
“Don’t I look like one 7” was the Yankee answer given him.
“Yes, you do, but—do you know you’re in danger, sir?”
“Anything particular 7”
“There's twelve of Young’s Tennessee Cavalry and fifteen
imounted citizens out now after a man that they say has been
raising a disturbance up the country.” --
“Well, do you think they want me 2" asked the soldier. .
“It looks like it. You kind o' answer to the description they
give.” g
“A man that’s been raising a disturbance?” asked the soldier.
“In every way. You’d better hide somewhere until dark, for
the whole country will soon be alarmed.”
“Are you a Union man, sir?”
“Every inch ; you may depend on me. Now I’ll tell you what
you can do. But, first, will you keep to your horse?”
“I guess not ; it would give them a better chance to see me and
hear me. Do you know of any place where I could leave him and
be likely to get him again?”
“Yes; there’s a Union man lives down here in the woods—it
isn’t on any road; he’ll take care of the horse for you.”
And he gave the Federal directions for reaching the house.
Leaving his horse here, he struck out for Decatur, keeping care-
fully to the woods, and guiding his steps by the sun. But it was
already late when he had been cautioned about his pursuers, and
slowly, but surely, the red glow faded out of the western sky.
Nor was this the worst. Though here and there the trees were
so thick as completely to intercept all light from above, yet, at
other points, a more open space would have allowed him, on a
clear night, to shape his course by the stars; but the sky was
heavily overcast; there was a portentous stillness in the air, and
suddenly the storm burst upon him. Shelterless, friendless, in a
strange country, and weary from the long ride, he wrapped him-
Self in his rubber blanket, and throwing himself upon the ground,
106. A Solitary Scout.
which was already soaked with the rain, slept soundly until
morning. -
The rain fell in torrents all night, and when he awoke at the
hour of reveille, he was wet to the skin. He had no rations with
him, had had no food since the breakfast at the hotel the previous
morning, and could not tell where it would be safe to stop to get
some. Making his way toward the railway, he followed it until
about ten o’clock, when he stopped at a house by the roadway
and asked for something to eat. .
“Yes; I suppose we can find something for you to eat,” was
the ungracious reply, given in a tone which implied that the
speaker supposed he would be obliged to provide it. -
Such, indeed, was the tenor of all the few sentences his host .
could be induced to utter. Such behavior naturally made Pike
believe that he was in the house of a violent Southern man ;
though he found afterward that his host was Union in principle,
but distrusted him, believing him a Confederate in disguise. But
if this belief lost him a friend, it probably saved him from cap-
ture. He had not been in the house long before some cavalry-
men rode up to the door and demanded refreshment for man and
beast. -
“Hello, bluecoat,” cried one as they entered the door of the
room where he was eating, “who might you be 7” -
“Well, I might be a Fed, only I aint, you see.” -
“Don’t see it. Who in the devil are you, if you aint a Fed ?”
“Well, I used to run a ranch in Texas, but some of my steers
tossed me clear to Alabama to fight the Yanks.”
“What are you doing with that uniform on ?”
“I’m obeying orders; and one of my orders is to keep dark
about why I'm in blue. Do you see it?”
“I reckon so,” with a laugh. .
“Then just go one better, and I’ll call—Who are you?”
“Second Tennessee Cavalry, Company A.” * -
“What happened to Company A, that there ain’t no more of
it?”
“O, the rest are in camp, near Decatur.”
“Guarding the bridge, hey?”
“Not exactly; that is, not altogether; we're rather scattered.”
“Better look out for Mitchel; he’ll be down on you like a
thousand of brick and burn that bridge before you know it.”
“If he could come down like one of the gunboats, he might
A Solitary Scout. - 107
burn it up, sure enough ; but that is not very likely.”
“Don’t they keep it well guarded ?” º
“O, I reckon there’s enough to stand their ground against
anything less than a brigade, and they could soon get reinforce-
ments if they found themselves getting the worst of it. But
what makes you so worried about the bridge, Texas? Heard
anything?” -
“No ; nothing, except that they say Mitchel is determined to
whip us.” -
“Burning bridges ain't whipping us, not by a long shot.”
“It might help it along, though, if they cut off all railroad
communication.”
“But they won’t, you see, because they can’t. It would take
a regiment to burn that bridge.” -
The cavalrymen insisted on conducting him to their camp,
where he was most cordially received. The hospitality of these
enemies, indeed, became somewhat oppressive, for they would
not permit him to depart, and it was every day becoming more
and more necessary that he should accomplish the work for
which he was sent. At last, however, he escaped from them,
though his resolution to leave them made them suspect that all
was not as it should be. -
On leaving the camp, he of course set out in the direction
which they advised ; but this was simply to lull suspicion, and
no sooner was he fully out of sight than he changed his
course, ascending the Tennessee. Fearful lest his late hosts
might pursue him, he resolved to adopt the plan usual with
scouts in an enemy’s country, and travel only by night. Toil-
ing painfully along, he lost his way; and became so puzzled as
to what his proper course was, that he took the worst direction
possible, and landed in a swamp, where he was obliged to stay
until morning should enable him to find the way to dry land
once more. -
His plan now was to ascend the river for a safe distance, steal
a boat, float down the stream, and set fire to the bridge from be-,
neath. After a toilsome journey, he saw, drawn up on the river
bank, the prize so much coveted—a skiff. Concealing himself
as near by as he could find shelter, it was not until a late hour
of the night that it seemed safe to venture out towards the boat.
It was some distance from the water's edge, this being the
season when freshets were liable to occur any day; and it was
108 A Solitary Scout.
not until the “wee sma' hours” that he finally launched the lit-
tle vessel upon the river. Much of the way he could only float
silently along, for the sound of oars might alarm some watchful
sentinel on shore. However, he should reach the bridge a little
before dawn, even if he were obliged to float all the way; and
the darkness would enable him to arrange matters so that when
he should be at a safe distance, just about dawn, flames would
burst forth from various parts of the bridge, and speedily be-
come uncontrollable. v
While entertained by the Tennessee regiment as the disguised
Texan Ranger, he had furtively made a close study of the bridge
whenever an opportunity offered to examine it without exciting
suspicion. Relying upon the knowledge so gained, he had
freighted his boat with all the combustible materials obtainable,
hoping to place these in the various crevices and openings of the
bridge, to make the work of destruction the more certain. As he
floated silently down the river through the darkness, he saw, “in
his mind’s eye,” the flames rising higher and higher in the light
of dawn, until the rosy clouds of the east were paled by the
glory of the fire. He saw the soldiers running to and fro in
confusion, some endeavoring to control the wild and fiery ele-
ment, some cursing the daring foe who had inflicted this injury
upon their means of communication with other portions of the
army. -
But, the distance was greater, or the time less than he had
calculated. As he floated down the stream, the sky behind him
grew lighter and lighter; he looked anxiously backward as he
continued his westward journey, then forward again to see how
far he still was from Decatur. He knew that the bridge was not
guarded, being thought too far within the Confederate lines to
be in any danger; and that for the same reason there was no
close guard kept upon the river. The camp was situated upon
an elevation some distance from the stream, and better fitted to
defend the town than a lower place. His great danger, then,
would be from either rangers or bushwhackers. -
It was broad day when he came in sight of the town, and there
were soldiers, plenty of them, in full view. Thus belated, with
suspicion so frequently excited behind him, it was useless to
think of attempting to burn the bridge under the circumstances.
There was but one thing to be done—leave the river, and
strike due north for the Federal lines. Steering for the shore
A Solitary Scout. - 109
as noiselessly as possible, when he found his plans impractica-
ble, he thought that he had eluded observation. Plunging into
the woods, although tired with the journey of the day before and
the vigil of the night, he made good time, hoping to be soon out
of reach of those who might suspect him. All day he traveled
onward, and even when night came, he hastened his flagging
steps, cheering himself with the thought that he had done as
much as circumstances would permit.
But listen I What is that sound, that the wind bears onward,
breaking the stillness of the night? Perhaps some housedog,
faithful to his trust, has discovered the approach of a suspicious
stranger. So he assures himself, and hurries onward. But if
that supposition were correct, he would by this time have left
the sound far behind him, and it is really nearer. Not until the
baying of the one dog is echoed, fainter and fainter, by others less
keen of scent, does he realize that he is pursued, and with blood-
hounds.
His way had, for some hours past, lain over open ground,
which, in the bygone time of peace, had once been cultivated, but
was now permitted to lie fallow. Here and there, in some
broad green pasture, was a pond, where in later months the
“milky mothers of the herd” would stand knee deep; but these
were not enough for his purpose; his footsteps would be easily
tracked on the other side, for the hounds would, of course, make
the circuit of so small a body of water.
At last he neared a dense grove, an almost certain indication
of the presence of running water; and was soon lost to view in
the deep shadows of the wood. His expectations were not dis-
appointed ; a stream, several yards in width and nearly waist
deep, appeared when he had penetrated but a short distance into
the grove. He plunged into the water, and swimming down the
stream a short distance, emerged on the opposite side. This
of course would break the trail, and cause the pursuers to make
a delay, which would be fatal to their purpose; if, indeed, they
succeeded in finding the trail again after all their search.
But Fortune favors the brave, and in this case she granted him
still another advantage. He had not proceeded far when he
came upon a swampy piece of ground, where there were sev-
eral streams nearly as deep as the first, forming a network. Into
these he plunged and waded for nearly an hour. At length,
however, tired nature asserted her rights, and he began to look
110 A Solitary Scout.
for a resting-place. Sleep on the slimy, oozy ground near by,
was out of the question ; nor would it be safe to leave the swamp
to gain such refreshment. What was his joy to discover a pile
of new rails rising a few feet above the level of the swamp. Gain-
ing the island on which they were, he disposed them so cun-
ningly as to leave himself a place into which to crawl, while the
arrangement did not seem any different from what it had been.
As he worked to provide this shelter, he could hear the deep
voices of the hounds as they ran hither and thither, seeking the
lost scent. The pursuers in human form, he knew, would not
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be able to decide what direction to take, or when to leave the was
ter. Lulled by these soothing reflections, he fell asleep.
It was morning before he awoke, and though he was no longer
so weary, he was faint with hunger. Then, too, his clothes had
been soaked through and through during his efforts to escape from
the bloodhounds, and in drying had made him intensely cold.
With the still damp garments clinging to his benumbed limbs,
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before leaving the swamp. Not entirely satisfied of the safety of
immediately proceeding, however, he again waded about for



































A Solitary Scout. - 111
nearly half an hour in the water before making for dry land again.
He emerged from the morass at the rear of a plantation, and
looking cautiously around him, saw an old negro at work, alone
in a field. The lay of the land was such that great care was still
necessary, for there might be plenty of white men just out of
sight, but within hearing; and white men were presumably ene-
mies. Slowly and silently, then he crept within hailing dis-
tance of the old man.
“Hi, uncle !” he called in a low tone, as the negro approached
in the course of his work, the soldier's place of concealment.
“Who dat, call me?” *
“Come here, a little closer. Is there anybody near?”
“Not as I knows on, sah. Who is you?” peering curiously
at him.
“I am a Yankee soldier—” began the Corporal.
“How de debbil did you git dah P’ exclaimed the old man,
starting back in fright or surprise.
“Well, I’ve been chased by the Reb's with their bloodhounds;
but I’ve got away from them; and now I’d be all right if I only
had something to eat.”
“Law, Massa, is dat all you want? Ole Miss’ she—but I
reckon you wouldn’t like to come up to de house much, sah P’
“Is your mistress loyal 7”
“She mighty strong Secesh, sah ; ole Massa and Mass’ John,
dey bofe in the army, an’—”
“I don’t think it would be safe, then. Can’t you bring me
something out here 7”
“Yes, sah, plenty ; but, you see, it wouldn’t be as nice as ole
Miss’ would give you if you dast go up to the house.” **
“Never mind that, so there's plenty of it and it comes quick,”
answered the hungry man. -
The old negro started off as fast as the stiffness of his joints
would permit, and soon returned with a bountiful supply of
bacon and corn bread. When his hunger was somewhat ap-
peased, the soldier began to ask about the way he had better
pursue to get to Huntsville, where Gen. Mitchel’s headquarters
were then situated. * -
“Don’t tink you can git dah, sah, by yo’self; might lose de
Way and get captured. Dem bloodhounds is mighty bad tings
to be chased by,” answered the old man, shaking his head as he
called to mind instances of their keenness of scent in track-
112 *
- A Solitary Scout.
ing runaway servants. “Ise afeared you lose de way, shuah.”
“But what am I to do 7” .
“Reckon our Joe will show you de way, sah; I'll go see.”
Sure enough, Joe was willing and able to act as guide; and
the two set out on their journey. -
“Dey’ll miss me up at de house if I stay away long,” said
Joe, when they had gone several miles, “but I reckon you kin
find the way from heah.”
And he gave the soldier minute directions for what was really
not a difficult road to follow.
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“Stop a minute, won't you?” overtaken by a negro
man, driving a fine horse in most lordly style.
“Whose horse and buggy is that?” called the soldier.
“Dat’s Mr. ’s propahty,” answered the driver, with dig-
Inity, as he slackened speed.
“Stop a minute, won't you?” -
As the negro drew rein, the soldier sprang into the buggy,
and showing a revolver, said to the frightened darkey:
“I’m a Federal soldier, and I want you to drive me to Hunts-
ville.”
“Law, ole Massa so strong Secesh, he whip me good if he
knowed I done dat, sah.”
“But I’ll shoot you if you don’t do it,” was the reply.
The whip was in the future, the revolver in the present, and
the frightened negro, choosing the lesser evil, drove on towards





















A Solitary Scout. Il3
Huntsville, the blooded animal taking them along at a rattling
gait.
“You say Mr. — is Secesh 7” asked Pike
“Yes, sah; mighty strong.”
“Well, I guess I’ll confiscate this horse and buggy, then; you
can take me clear into Huntsville. Drive on, fast.”
And in spite of the darkey’s terrified remonstrances, he per-
sisted in this demand. It was in good style, then, that he finally
entered the town, safe from all pursuit. His driver was so much
afraid of a whipping that he refused to return to his master,
and finally became a cook for one of the officers’ messes.
Corporal Pike continued to act as a scout, sometimes alone,
sometimes in conjunction with others, for a period of nearly
three years. He was finally honorably discharged, after having
served more than the time for which he had enlisted, only a
week before Gen. Lee’s surrender.
114 Stringfellow Against Odds.
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£HAFTER X.
STRING FELLOW AGAINST ODDS.
A Small-sized Raid–Posting the Force—A Bearer of Dispatches—Disobedience of
Orders—An Alarming State of Affairs—The Biter Bit—Injured Innocence—An
Indignant Prisoner—Something Wrong—The Prisoner Refuses to be Released
—Between Two Fires—A Strong 1 mptation—Resisted—A Sudden Revelation
—A Little Battle—A Surrender and Skedaddle—Astonishing the Pickets—A
Race—A Battle of Larger Fo, res—Retreat of the Confederates—Taking Stock
of the Spoils—He Called Himself a Fool—And Nobody Contradicted Him.
HE pleasure which we feel in reading the numberless stories
T of scouts and spies, their daring adventures and narrow
escapes, is often marred when we allow ourselves to look at the
other side of the picture to see the partisan or the secret service
agent with the eyes of the enemy against whom his operations
were directed; then we observe that his clever performance of
his part is but the acting of a lie; that every word is false; that
the quickness with which he disposes of any soldier that is likely
to thwart his plans shows a savage disregard for human life. That
is the dark side of the picture, and it is darker than Erebus. In,
ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, we must shut our eyes to
this, or the fell shadow will darken all the glowing colors. In
reading the history of any war, we must harden our hearts, we
must dull our understandings, if we would not be overwhelmed
by the thought of the distress which even a single action must
cause. But occasionally, there is a man employed in such ser-
vice who hesitates to shoot down even an enemy, without warning
him that he is in the very presence of death. Such was the man
of whom we now write, one of the most trusted of all the scouts
employed by the Commander-in-chief of the Confederate army;
and with none will it detract from the interest of an “ower true
tale,” that the hero of it has discarded the sword of the flesh for
8 115
116 Stringfellow Against Odds.
that of the Spirit, and as the rector of a church in Powhatan
County, Virginia, has since battled with the enemy of all man-
kind, rather than with the foes of a section of his country. He
made none the worse soldier for being a Christian, and none
the worse Christian for being a soldier.
Gen. Gregg was in the height of his fame as a cavalry officer
when Capt. Frank Stringfellow, with a small force of men, pick-
ed from the Army of Northern Virginia to serve as scouts, de-
termined to make a small-sized raid into the enemy’s lines, and
capture many horses or dispatches, as opportunity might offer.
Setting out from the Confederate headquarters just before
“taps” warned the infantryman that it was time for darkness
and quiet, it was in the “wee sma' hours” that they reached
and passed the enemy’s lines. The eastern sky was just streak-
ed with crimson when they halted in a small group of trees
about two hundred yards from the county road; there lying in
wait for their prey, like a cat at a safe distance from a rat-hole;
for they knew that small bodies of Federals would soon pass
that way. The force was carefully posted, the main body being
concealed in the grove already mentioned, while a single man
was so placed as to be able to communicate, by signals, with
Stringfellow, who was to operate on the road, and with the men
concealed in the grove.
Their expectations were not disappointed, for it was not many
hours after completing these arrangements before a single horse-
man, dressed in a blue uniform, was seen coming down the road.
Being far within his own lines, the new comer evidently regard-
ed caution as superfluous, and made no attempt to conceal the
dispatches of which he was the bearer. On the contrary, the
mail-bag was so secured to his person as rather to indicate that
he wished to proclaim his mission to all. For the same reason
that he disclaimed caution and concealment, he carelessly re-
garded the soldier whom he now saw riding toward him, who,
though wearing the trousers and overcoat of a United States of.
ficer, was no other than our friend the Confederate scout. The
two rode towards each other, and the cavalryman—the “real
article.”—had just raised his hand to salute the officer when that
person returned the salute in a manner somewhat unusual; be-
ing nothing else than the presenting the muzzle of a revolver
full in the Federal’s face.
“Halt! Surrender, or you are a dead man.”
Stringfellow Against Odds. 117
N.
The astonished trooper could only gasp out that he complied
with this demand, and yield up his arms and dispatches as the
captor required. Signaling to the man who had been posted
for the purpose of communication, Stringfellow said to him :
“Take this prisoner to the rear, and bring up the men for a
fight. I hear cavalry not very far off. Bring them up at a fast
trot.”
The soldier received the command with due respect, and de-
parted from his chief's presence, to disobey that chief's express
orders. For, unlike many organizations performing similar ser-
vices to the army, this little force had a strict code of morality,
which was never allowed to relax. Though, as soldiers, they
must often disregard the commandment, “Thou shalt not kill,”
they were scrupulous in their observance of that which is the
second after it. Of course, arms and all government property,
found on the persons of their prisoners must, according to the
rules of war, be confiscated, but private property was as sacred
in their eyes as in times of peace. When, therefore, Stringfellow
sent his prisoner to the rear, he had no expectation of any de-
lay resulting from such a cause ; but, by a strange fatality, just
at the moment when such a course would most imperil the lead-
er, this one man committed the only offense of the kind which
stains the history of the little force of scouts. Instead of carry-
ing the message to his comrades, he paused to plunder the pris-
OI) eI’.
In the meantime, Stringfellow, in order to give his men time to
come up, and to prevent his own premature capture, had de-
cided that it would be necessary to deceive the enemy. Ac-
cordingly, he buckled on the mail-bag in such a way that no one
would doubt that he was a bearer of dispatches, and rode onward.
He rode slowly, in order to give his men plenty of time; but still
they did not come. Never once supposing that his orders had
not been received, he could not imagine why they were not obey-
ed; he could not understand why the men who had been chosen
for their desperate courage as much as for other qualities, who
had stood by him in a score of contests with numbers far supe-
rior to their own, should fail him now. Nearer and nearer came
the enemy, as the clatter of their horses’ hoofs upon the hard
road indicated, and though he was alone, he must go on; to re-
treat was to give up all the advantages that had been gained by
the capture of the courier.
118 Stringfellow Against Odds.
But though he was considerably alarmed by the failure of his
men to obey orders, his mind was more at ease when the ene-
my’s cavalry came in view and was seen to number but two men.
These he could easily capture single-handed, and since he would
be obliged to escort his prisoners to the rear himself, he could
thus learn the reason why his men had failed to come up in due
time. Fortunately, their not coming would make no difference
whatever, although, if he had met a larger force, his situation
might have proved somewhat embarrassing.
He was just congratulating himself upon this situation, which
might have been so much worse, when a third Federal trooper
came in sight, and speedily joined his comrades. But, like a
physician who sees new and unfavorable symptoms appear and
yet does not wholly give up the patient, the scout determined
to pursue the same course against the three upon which he had
resolved when he saw but two antagonists. Upon the appear-
ance of a fourth Federal a moment afterwards, however, he
began to see that his plans could not be carried out. With ready
eye he saw what would be the best, and indeed the only course .
that he could with safety pursue. His blue overcoat and trous-
ers and the mail-bag so conspicuously displayed would lead
them to think him a regular bearer of dispatches; he would
ride past them unmolested ; they would go on, only to fall into
the hands of his men, when he would return and attack them in
the rear.
All this time the solitary Confederate and the little group of
Federals were drawing nearer together. Thinking to run
through them before they could offer resistance, Stringfellow
urged his horse to a gallop; but as he dashed up towards them,
they opened out so as to completely bar the way. Before his
quick wits could decide what course should now be taken, they
had wheeled their horses so as entirely to surround him, and
the muzzles of four pistols were in his very face. The figures
formed by a kaleidoscope are made more beautiful by multiplica-
tion, but in the case of a revolver, it is different. It was by no
means a pleasant sight for Stringfellow, and yet he could not
shut his eyes to it. More to gain time than for anything else,
he assumed an air of injured dignity, and demanded:
“What do you mean? Are you bushwhackers?”
“No ; we’re regularly enlisted men,” replied the sergeant,
who was the only officer of the party.
Stringfellow Against Odds. 119
“Then what does this behavior mean—capturing a United
States soldier within the lines? You belong to Gen. Gregg's
cavalry, don’t you?” -
“We do, sir,” the sergeant admitted, doubtfully.
“Then you must remember seeing me at headquarters,” per-
sisted the scout. -
“Hanged if I haven’t,” muttered one of the Federals.
“Believe I have, too,” added a second, while the third nod-
ded his approval. I
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“Well, I never have seen him at headquarters, I'm certain,”
rejoined the sergeant, decidedly. - * -
Having succeeded in getting their revolvers out of his face,
and still anxious to gain time, Stringfellow pressed his advan-
tage, already secured, in another direction.
“It’s easy enough for you to say that you are not bushwhack-
ers, but how am I to know 7 With your uniform overcoats on,
you could easily enough get into the lines. Let me see your
pants.” º
The troopers, indignant at the suspicion, threw open their
overcoats and disclosed the garments in question—regulation
* * *- : *** *-*.

120 Stringfellow Against Odds.
cut and color. Then, on the principle that “what is sauce for
the goose is sauce for the gander,” they demanded that String-
fellow should submit to the same test. What was their aston-
ishment when they saw that he wore the trousers of an officer in
the United States army. •
“Now,” he said, in a tone of great indignation, “I suppose
you know who I am. Don’t you see what an insult you have
offered an officer? But you shall answer for your disrespectful
conduct; you may rest assured that I shall not allow it to go
unpunished.”
“Better beg his pardon and let him go, Sergeant,” urged one
of the men, in an undertone.
“Didn’t you see him stop that trooper and take the dispatches
from him 7” demanded the sergeant; in the same tone.
“Ye-es,” admitted the other, trying to reconcile the two
things so different.
“But he must be an officer, Sergeant,” chimed in another
trooper, “ or he would never dare to behave as he is doing.”
“There's something wrong about it,” replied the sergeant,
doggedly; then, turning to the prisoner, he said: “Answer one
question to my satisfaction, and I will release you. You say you
are an officer, then why do you carry a private soldier's arms
and a mail-bag The officers don’t carry the mails.”
“Release me, will you?” asked Stringfellow, still indignant
and without pretending to answer the question ; “indeed you
shall not; you shall keep me in custody until you are fully con-
vinced who I am. I’ll have ample satisfaction for this treat-
ment yet. Ride on to the picket post—any of the men there can
identify me.”
“You must give up your arms before we go on, sir,” insisted
the sergeant.
“Give up my arms ? Why, if you are bushwhackers you
might as well shoot me now.” : ,
“We are not bushwhackers, sir,” answered the other, sullenly.
“Then, if you do belong to our army, do you suppose that
I’m going to make a laughing stock of myself for everybody at
headquarters, as I should do if I were to give up my arms to our
own men º’’. . * * * * * * *. * *
Still keeping the air of injured innocence which he had so
‘successfully assumed, he rode towards the picket post accom-
panied by the others. The four rode with drawn pistols ready to
--~~~~~ : v -
£y
Stringfellow Against Odds. 121
'use them at the prisoner's slightest motion to quit their company.
Though the muzzles were not pointed into his face, as they had
been, his situation was hardly less critical now than it was then ;
and the danger increased with every yard by which they drew
nearer to the picket post. There was but one thing which could
save him; his own men might see the party as it passed, and
charge and recapture him. As they rode near the woods in which
his men were posted, scarcely two hundred yards away, he
looked anxiously forward, but no promise of deliverance was
seen. In a Federal uniform with the exception of his coat, which
was gray, he dared not surrender, lest the costume be completed
by a hempen necktie. Just in front of him was the picket; at
each side rode two soldiers holding cocked revolvers.
Rapidly he turned over in his mind the courses which presen-
ted themselves. There was but one which seemed practicable.
IHe had purposely endeavored, by talking with them on different
subjects, to draw their attention away from himself, and although
he had only partially succeeded, still that small measure of suc-
cess gave him some room for action. A sudden shot before they
had time to suspect his intention would kill the sergeant, who
was by far the most formidable of the four ; then he could fight
the other three; perhaps—for he had not yet given up all hopes
of capturing his captors—carry the engagement so near to the
point where his own men were posted that there could be no
doubt about their coming to the rescue. - -
The plan was tempting, for though the execution of it would
not be unattended by danger to himself, he saw no other way
out of the still more imminent danger into which he was riding.
But though he might kill a man in fair and open fight, and think
no more of it than that he, a soldier of his native state, had slain
one of her enemies, his whole soul revolted at the idea of shoot-
ing a man who was not looking for death, of sending a human
spirit into eternity unprepared. Sooner than do this he assumed
the greater risk himself. Suddenly interrupting one of the
troopers in the rambling conversation which had been carried
on, he turned upon the sergeant with :
“I am a Southern soldier, and you must surrender to me.”
... Knowing how great an advantage they had over him, the
scout threw himself upon the side of his horse; the action was
just in time, for the words were hardly out of his mouth before
they all fired, but, fortunately, missing him. It may be believed
#
122 Stringfellow Against Odds.
that he lost no time in returning the fire, and, now that fair
warning had been given, aimed at the sergeant. But the shot
was hasty, and the ball lodged in the flesh, not of the rider, but
of the horse. As the animal fell, the sergeant’s attention was
engaged in keeping himself from being crushed by the fall, and
Stringfellow fired again before the Federal could use his revol-
ver. The ball was better aimed than before, and, although
it was far from fatal in its effects, inflicting only a flesh
wound, yet the sergeant, thus disabled and unhorsed, had no
resort but to surrender; while his comrades, judging discretion
the better part of valor, rode off at full speed. -
Stringfellow pursued them hotly, and they galloped past the
astounded picket, who could not understand why these men, all
in blue uniform, should be fighting with each other. One man was
accordingly sent back to the reserve force for instructions, and
reinforcements for the Federals were speedily heard making for
the road. How many there might be coming up, the scout had no
means of knowing; but feeling sure that the odds were too
great for him, singlehanded as he was, he turned and rode back
towards his own men. The cavalrymen whom he had been
pursuing, were quick to perceive the change, and having heard
their reinforcements approaching, wheeled their horses and be-
came, in turn, pursuers. Stringfellow dashed along the road,
riding for his life, while the hoofs of a dozen horses clattered
behind him. As he rode past the point where the wounded ser-
geant lay, a shot whistled past him, only narrowly missing him ;
for the Federal, seeing Stringfellow evidently getting the worst
of it, considered himself recaptured, and his surrender thus
nullified. - -
At last the woods were reached. Stringfellow was now to re-
ceive for the first time in his many moments of dire need, the
assistance of his men. As we have already intimated, they had
not received the orders which he had sent to them; and having
been posted in the woods, with instructions to remain there until
otherwise ordered, they had, with true military obedience, stuck
to their post; though the temptation to indulge in the fight,
when they heard the first shots between Stringfellow and the
four troopers, was indeed a strong one. But now, “nearer,
clearer, deadlier than before” sounded the pistols; and throw-
ing discipline to the four winds, they dashed out from the wood
to the aid of their leader. - -
...r.orº . - . - - - - - - -
***-*.,
Stringfellow Against Odds. 123
The sight of eight more Confederates took the pursuers some-
what by surprise, and not knowing how many were still hidden
in the wood, they checked the impetuosity of the advance. Per-
ceiving that they were somewhat doubtful about holding their
ground, Stringfellow and his men charged upon them, hoping to
drive them back in confusion. But the scouts had reckoned on
less resolute men than those with whom they had to deal, and
when, as they rode into the open ground, the weakness of their
party became evident to the Federals, the latter rallied from
their first surprise and terror, and gallantly repulsed the charge.
But as new squads of blue-coated troopers were constantly com-
ing up, the cavalrymen grew still bolder, and the scouts were
driven in a headlong flight to the woods.
But not more than half of the scouts had been in the first par-
ty that came to the rescue of their leader; and as this party
came flying for safety into the grove, the others joined them.
Thus reinforced, they re-formed, and again charging upon the
Federals, drove them back from the field to the road beyond.
But each time that the Yankees were driven back, they returned
with fresh men to the fray. And at last the Rebs were driven
-back into the woods, and hotly pursued into its recesses.
But our story would be incomplete did we omit mention of
the sergeant, but for whom Stringfellow might have deceived
the troopers completely. Struck by the second ball from the
scout's revolver, as we have already seen, and dismounted by
the first, he was too badly wounded to allow any active exer-
tion; hence, though riderless horses galloped past him as his
comrades advanced and retreated, he could not make any effort
to secure one. With dogged persistency, however, he sought out,
in every charge or retreat of the Rebs, the form of the leader,
and aimed his revolver at the man that had been his prisoner
and his captor.
It was not until this had been several times repeated that one
of the scouts perceived the purpose of the wounded man. They
were retreating for the last time, and the danger in lingering
behind the main body was not small; but fearlessly riding away
from his companions, he dashed up to the dismounted man, his
pistol cocked and aimed. Arrived at a point whence the shot
would be sure, his finger was on the trigger when Stringfellow,
who had followed him closely, called:
“Don’t fire on that man.”
124 Stringfellow Against Odds.
“He’s aimed at you every time yet, sir,” answered the scout.
“Never mind that ; he has surrendered to me once, and he must
be treated as a prisoner of war.”
“But he has fired 5 y
“Take him prisoner again, and treat him as such,” was the
order, in a tone that admitted of no further parley.
The running fight continued until nearly sunset; now one
party, now the other, being driven back. Each time, the Con-
federates retreated a little greater distance than they advanced,
so that the field was held by the Federals; but the former lost
not a man or a horse, while the latter had some twenty men and
nearly thirty horses taken by the enemy. Indeed, the prison-
ers outnumbered the scouts. But they were, by the close of the
afternoon, too near the Confederate lines for the Federals to pur-
sue any farther, especially at night; so that the hard fought ac-
tion closed with the withdrawal of the Northerners from the
pursuit.
When there was no longer any probability that the fight would
be renewed, the Confederates paused to take account of their
booty, to secure the prisoners and to divide the spoil. The in-
domitable sergeant was one of the captives, having surrendered
to that scout who had been so intent upon avenging the attempts
upon the Confederate leader.
“O, what a fool I was 1 What a d-d fool I was ſ” he said
to Stringfellow; “I saw you take that man and take his arms and
the mail from him. And I might have known that the mail
wouldn’t be sent by an officer. What a fool, what a fool!”
“You watched me pretty close, anyhow,” answered the scout,
smiling at the other's dismay and self-reproach.
“O, but I had no business to stop you. I ought to have let
you go on. I might have known you were a bushwhacker, and
wouldn’t be taken alive.”
The tears stood in his eyes as he pondered over the occur-
rence, and continued to mutter, at intervals, “What a fool,
what a fool.”
“Well, my friend, I’m sorry you have such a poor opinion of
yourself, but I confess I cannot think it is undeserved,” replied
Stringfellow ; “now, there’s only one thing I can do for you,
to return your courtesy to me.”
* What is that ?”
“Give you free transportation to Richmond, and a letter of
Stringfellow Against Odds. 125
introduction to a first-class ‘War Hotel.” The gentleman in
charge of it will be pleased to entertain you, free of cost.”
“Well, I guess I’ll have to do as you say, sir,” replied the ser-
geant, ruefully; “but what a fool, what a darned fool I was 1”
£HAFTER XI.
A MAID CEIA S.E.
The Armies in Mississippi—Driving in the Pickets—Reinforcements—A Slight
Skirmish—Something More of a Race—The Foremost Man—A Lucky Detour
—Thirteen Prisoners.
HE echoes of the guns of Shiloh had hardly died away; the
Confederates had retreated to Corinth, and the Federal
forces were closing around them, preparatory to that attack,
when Price's Missourians strove, with such unavailing valor, to
repulse the tide that swept over them. But with the great bat-
tles of Corinth and Shiloh we have nothing to do at present,
save as the one influenced the movements of the Federal troops,
and the other resulted from that movement. Our story is one
but briefly mentioned, if at all, in the official reports; for the
fight was a mere skirmish. But a writer of the time recorded
the facts which are here, as the author of this volume believes,
first set down in a book.
We have seen that both armies moved southward after the
battle of Shiloh. It was merely in accordance with the plans
for the whole corps then, that, on a certain May morning in
1862, a regiment of cavalry, the Third Michigan, left the camp
three miles from that hard-fought field, and rode south toward
the advance posts on the road to Corinth. They reached their
destination, for the time, about the middle of the afternoon, but
before the regiment had formed in line came the word that the
enemy was driving in the pickets; and the volleys of musketry
that came echoing from the woods to the south confirmed the in-
formation.
Arrangements were hastily made to put a stop to this, and a
force was sent to assist the pickets in repelling the attack. Two
126
A. Mad Chase. - 127
companies of the 7th Illinois Cavalry, and two of the Michigan
regiment, under the command of Maj. W. S. Barton, were selec-
ted for the work, and the whole force advanced at a gallop.
The Michiganders, it should be mentioned, were Co’s L and M,
commanded by Capts. Sailor and Botham, respectively. Ad-
vancing at such a rapid gait, it was not long until they were
very near the field of action; and having ascertained that the
enemy numbered about three hundred, Maj. Barton disposed his
men for three attacks.
The fight was raging in a thick wood, which extended some
distance to the rear of the enemy’s force; and beyond this were
plains interspersed by scattered clumps of trees. The plan of
attack was this: One Illinois company was to attract the atten-
tion of the enemy to the front, while their comrades of the same
regiment were to attack on the left flank; in the meantime, the
Michigan soldiers, having made a wide detour to the right, were
to fall upon the rear and cut off retreat. The Southerners fought
like men, and the firing in front soon became very brisk. But
in some way the Confederates learned of the flanking movement
which was being put in execution, and not caring to stand so
many attacks at once, retreated rapidly towards Corinth, with
more rapidity, indeed, than permitted the preservation of discip-
line; and the fiery pursuit of the Federals did not tend to delay
them. .
In the headlong race, the thick woods were soon left far be-
hind them, and the troopers dashed onward, now over fields
that War had caused to be left untilled; now over the small
patch of ground which old men and boys, unfit for service, had
endeavored to cultivate; now through the clumps of trees shad-
ing the ponds where, in the hot August days, the cows loved to
stand knee-deep in the cool waters. A mad race it was—wilder
than any steeple chase that Ireland eversaw; and they galloped
on, over hills, and gullies, and logs, clearing at a bound the few
fences that had not already fed the camp fires of one army or
the other. Closer and closer it grew, until the Federals, with
their sabres flashing in the afternoon sunshine, were upon the
rear of the Confederates. Captain Botham led the advance;
and as they closed with the enemy, his blade was the first that
descended with a deadly blow, cleaving the skull of a luckless
Reb who was unable to parry it. -
Hoping to escape by strategy if they could not by speed, the
I28 A Mad Chase.
Confederates now separated, one body continuing straight on-
ward, while the other turned to the right. The Michigan boys
followed the latter, while the former were left to the tender
mercies (if caught) of the Illinoisans. For in the advance of
the two companies of the Third, was Captain Botham, followed
only by two or three of his men; his hat had been lost in the
rapid ride; the air blew his hair back from his temples as he
dashed onward ; his sabre flashed brightly in the summer Sun-
shine; and as he rode,
“At each bound he could feel his scabbard of steel
Smiting his stallion's flanks.”
With the wild abandonment of a man who cares not how many
follow him, he dug the spurs deep into the smoking flanks of his
horse; and crying, “Come on, boys I’’ rode after a body of fully
fifty men. The trees that lined the road seemed to the fleeing
Rebels so many Yankees that were after them; they could not
tell how many came in the wake of that wild pursuer that was
half-hidden by the clouds of dust raised by the hoofs of their
own horses. A half mile, a mile, a mile and a half, they ride on-
ward, pursuer and pursued, as if the devil himself were after
both.
But now the road is sheltered from the burning rays of the
Southern sun by a heavy canopy of leaves. That thick and
glossy foliage never fades, summer or winter, and even now,
when the foot on the other part of the road raises a cloud of
dust, here the mud is viscid and deep. The Confederates floun-
der through it after some sort of a fashion, their horses being
used, perhaps, to the road; but after a short trial the Federal
gives it up in disgust, and turns into the field to the right, that,
being somewhat higher and more exposed to the rays of the sun,
is more passable than the highway itself. “Fortune favors the
brave.” He had gone but a short distance when he came to a
bridle-path that evidently ran in a direction parallel to that of
the main road. Along this he galloped. The by-way chanced to
be a short cut by which the bad part of the main road was
avoided, and it led him into the highway at a point just beyond
the marshy place. As he dashed forward, unseen from the road
because of the thick foliage and underbrush, he heard the clat-
ter of horses’ hoofs advancing toward him. Nothing, daunted,
he thought not of slackening speed or drawing rein, although he
knew he had headed off the body which he and his three com-
A Mad Chase. I29
rades had been pursuing. He reached the point where the bridle
path joined the main road, almost at the same moment as the
Confederates.
“Surrender l’’ he cried.
How many more there might be behind the thick underbrush the
surprised gray-jackets did not know, nor did they care much to
inquire. They paused a moment in dismay ; then one recovered
his wits, and galloped off along a by-way to the left, followed by
eight, ten, a dozen more.
“I’ll shoot the next man dead in his saddle that leaves,” ex-
claimed the Federal, his revolver ready cocked and pointed at
the party.
There was a moment’s pause. They glanced at each other for
encouragement, but found none in any face. Then one surren-
dered, and was followed by the others—thirteen in number. At
this instant, the three cavalrymen who had followed Capt. Both-
am came up, and the prisoners were disarmed and escorted
back to camp.
When investigation was made as to the results of the dash, it
was found that about twenty-one prisoners in all had been taken.
The Federals had lost not a man, nor had one of them received a
scratch. Three or four of the enemy had been killed in hand to
hand combat; how many had been wounded or fatally shot, they
of course had no means of knowing. The only misfortune suf-
fered by the Federals was the wounding of several horses.
Of course such opportunities as this of Capt. Botham’s did not
often occur during the war. Ordinarily, on either side, twenty-
five men would make a stand where only one enemy was visible.
But in this case, whether from natural cowardice, or from the
panic of fear, by which even brave men may be affected, twelve
retreated before him and thirteen surrendered themselves to
OI) e Iſlan,
£Harres XII.
CAPTURING A CAPTAIN. zº
A Ghostly Visitor—Investigations—A Woman in the Case–Trooly Loil-A Sus-
picious Officer—Determined to Find It Out—He Finds it Out—But Gets Lost
Himself.
<<T SENT for you as officer of the day, G , to hear a re-
port which was made to me in that capacity a few moments
ago. There's the devil to pay at Post Number Twelve.”
“How much is owing?” asked the officer addressed, with a
gravity becoming to his dignity.
“That's just what we'll have to find out. This fellow will tell
you what he saw there. We’ll have trouble around that post by
to-morrow.”
“What did you see, my man?”
“It war a ghost, surr,” was the reply, in an awed tone, which
yet could not disguise
“A brogue as thick as the fog,
Whin Mother Maloney got lost in the bog.”
“A ghost?” repeated the officer, with some disdain.
“Yis, surr; it walked right out of the soide of the hill fore-
ninst the ould graveyard, and shook its fist at me as it passed,
and thin wint into the bush near the fort; and thin it dishap-
peared intirely.”
“In the bush 7”
“It melted into the air, surr, jist as it got into the borders of
the bush; or I could 'a seen the whoite longer nor I did.” –
“Could you have seen a man in dark clothes as far in the bush
as the ghost was when it disappeared 7” asked the officer.
“No, surr, it war dark.”
“How did the ghost look?”
130
Capturing a Captain. .* 131
, “Loike a tall banshee all dhressed in whoite, with oyes all of
... fire loike.”
Nothing more definite could be learned from the picket. To
the officer it was evident that the ghost was an enemy in disguise,
and that the so-called disappearance was but a removal of the
ghostly apparel when once the spy was within the lines. He
proceeded directly to Post Number Twelve, in order to make a
minute examination of the ground, and ascertain whether the
ghostly visitor had been material enough to leave footprints.
“Buy any pies 'n' cakes 7 All clane and frish; twenty-five cents
for pies and five cents a dozen for cakes.”
“Why do you come out here among the rocks and bushes to
sell your wares?” demanded the officer of the woman whose
voice thus saluted his ears.
“Shure an’ isn’t yer honor here to buy them? An' I know if :
you’ll only be afther lookin' at thim, to see how frish and tempt—
ing they’re lookin', you’ll be tellin' me to lave some at your tent,”
replied the woman, insinuatingly.
“Why do you come here?” repeated the officer, sternly, with-
out noticing the appeal to purchase.
“I’m jist on my way to the camp, surr, from me home foive
moiles away on the hill, and I was stoppin’ here to rist mesilf.
Me man’s in the Fourteenth Maryland, and he don’t loike to see
me all tired loike when I come to camp.”
“Where is your pass, if you are a camp follower?”
“Sure an’ I’m the honest wife of Pathrick O’Meary, of the
Fourteenth Maryland, Company D, an’ the captain—the saints
bless him for a man that knows his business—has promised him
that he shall be a corporal jist as soon as—"
“Wery likely,” the officer cut her short with, “but you must
go to camp and submit to a search of your basket and an inspec-
tion of your papers, if you have any.”
“Is it sarch me you would, surr? A good loyal woman as ever
lived, and thries to make a bit more nor the government pay
would be for the childer by selling nice clane frish cakes to the
sogers, as their father is wan of thim, God bless’em.”
“If you are a loyal woman, you will not object to what I say.
If there is nothing in your basket but pies and cakes, what harm
is there in showing that there isn’t 7”
“It’s an honest, loyal woºan that I am, surr, and yez can look
in my basket and see as I haven’t any papers at all, at all.”
9
132 Capturing a Captain.
Without waiting to go back to the camp, Capt. G– took the
suspected woman to the picket post, where her basket was thor-
oughly searched. Nothing but cakes and pies were found, and
the captain, baffled, but still somewhat suspicious, was obliged to
admit that everything seemed all right. But suddenly his eye
caught a sight of what seemed to confirm his doubts.
“Why do you wear a pair of men's boots?” he asked, point-
ing to her feet.
“It’s a pair that he bought before he 'listed, surr,” she replied,
|
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i.
|
§ -
|S
§
§
N
º
,-\|| .*.
: "º
\ %; ~/.7., %
gº Žič {_ a
*= *- -º-º:
“Why do you wear men's boots 2°
making the pronoun refer to her husband, after the manner of
Irish women of the lower class, “an’ the grass is so wet that me
own ould shoes don’t kape out the wather.”
Still the captain was doubtful; and after some more talk, the
woman volunteered the information that some two miles off, on
the way to her own home, was the dwelling of some friends who
could prove that she was neither a ghost or a spy. Thither
Capt. G. finally resolved to accompany her, and taking a
single private with him, they proceeded on the way. It was
then not later than half-past eleven. Noon came, but not the
captain. Another hour, and still angther, passed away, and still
the officer of the guard was absent from camp.
















Capturing a Captain. 133
Such a state of affairs was not to be tolerated, and the com-
mander of the force at the camp (which did not include the
Fourteenth Maryland) sent out a squadron of cavalry to dash
up the hill and reconnoiter. Another hour passed. It was now
three o’clock in the afternoon. The July sunshine beat fiercely
down upon the camp and all surrounding it, and the men who
were anxiously awaiting the result of the reconnoisance felt the
heat burdensome. At last the cavalry was descried returning;
they came back at full speed, notwithstanding the heat. They
rode up to headquarters; the officer in command dismounted,
and disappeared within the adjutant’s tent.
The whole regiment was on the qui vive, for every man knew
the circumstances under which Capt. G had left camp.
What was to be done? Even as they were wondering the long
roll beat, and they must fly to arms. In five minutes the whole
regiment was in line of battle, only waiting for orders to move
onward. To the assembled men was read the following note,
which had been found four miles from camp, stuck on the point
of the bayonet of the musket belonging to the private who had
accompanied Capt. G–:
* COL. D. :
I am willing to exchange the pies, cakes and basket for the soldier and
the d–d fool captain I caught with crinoline. Peddlers and ghosts are at a
premium in these parts just now. Yours in haste,
BLAND,
First Lieut., C. S. A.”
Whether the exchange was ever effected, history sayeth not.
Lieut. Bland certainly did not rate his prisoners very highly ;
and if the exchange did not take place, we can only infer that
the Federal officers thought the basket and its contents more
valuable than the officer of the guard.
£Harles XIII.
IN THE WRONG PEw.
A Federal Aid's Errand on the Battle-field—See Where the Enemy Is—He Sees—
Cheek—The Message Hampton Didn’t Send—The Enemy Sees Him—Goes
Several Better—He Stakes His Pile—Can’t Bluff Them—A Pleasant Conver-
sation —A Wounded Leg—That Runs Well—Escape.
T was in May, 1862. The battle of West Point, Virginia, was
at its fiercest; all the long morning the bullets had hissed
through the air, like serpents born of fire; shells had screamed
onward from the dark mouths of the mortars, and descended to
earth with their grim determination to slay and spare not. The
softly glowing verdure of the trees was seared and blackened
as if by frost; the young grass was trampled and torn up as if
by the pawing of a herd of buffalo. The sun had passed the me-
ridian an hour before the opening of our story, but his beams
were half obscured by the clouds of smoke and dust that arose
from the battle-field and hovered over it. Dead and dying and
suffering men lay here and there, while yonder a brigade of in-
fantry (what there was left of it) was drawn up in line, ready to
charge when the word should be given ; and meanwhile protect-
ed by the batteries that vomited forth fire and smoke and deadly
missiles.
Through all the turmoil, the man who directed it all sat like
a statue on his horse, carefully watching the progress of this
conflict. Beside him, there was now one, now another, now sev-
eral officers, waiting to do his bidding. As he saw the neces-
sity for a new order, a few words from his lips dispatched the
nearest aid with the message.
“They must be falling back,” he exclaimed, half aloud; “I
cannot explain it any other way. Surely the Thirty-first New
*
134
In the Wrong Pew. 135
York is holding its own. I never knew it to fail me.”
Listening anxiously for a moment, as if to resolve that wild
din of mingled sounds into its elements, he turned to one of the
aids beside him :
“Ride forward into the woods, Capt. Montgomery, and ascer-
tain if the enemy is retreating. Bring me information, too, as
to whether the Thirty-first New York is holding its own, or if
help will be needed.”
The officer addressed had already been sent on more than one
similar errand that day, and both man and horse were much fa-
tigued ; but it was no time to think of personal comfort or in-
dulgence, and saluting, he rode away in the direction indicated,
as rapidly as the condition of the animal would permit. As he
neared the woods a barricade across the road and the voices of
men behind it gave warning that he must change his course
somewhat. Plunging at once into the depths of the woods, he
gave no thought to danger, for this was doubtless the Thirty-
first New York, and one part of his errand would be accom-
plished immediately.
Pſe rode but a few yards into the woods before he came in
sight of the men he had heard—crouching behind stumps, kneel-
ing behind bushes, peeping out from the shelter of trees-trunks;
but one and all were clad, not in the dusty blue he had expect-
ed to see, but in unmistakable gray. Familiar, through the re-
ports of his brother aids and the information he had himself
acquired in earlier errands, with the disposition of the enemy’s
forces, he realized, in an instant, that this was the South Caro-
lina force usually known as the Hampton Legion, and that
nothing could save him but the dust which disguised his uniform
and a plentiful supply of the quality vulgarly denominated
“cheek.” He had no sooner perceived the state of affairs than
he had decided how to act. Saluting them with due gravity,
yet with a certain nonchalance, as if it were simply a compli-
ment that one soldier in the C. S. A. should pay to his com-
rades, he had not time to speak before he was asked:
“How far off is Gen. Hampton, sir, do you know?”
Here was a story ready made, almost ; and thanking his
lucky stars for the question, he answered :
“He was about ten rods below here a few moments ago, when
he sent me here. Boys, he charged me to stop and tell you that
he expected you to do your duty for the Palmetto State to-day.”
136 In the Wrong Pew.
“We will, sir; he may trust us for that,” answered one; “is
there any other message 7”
“No ; I am sent with one a little farther up the road.”
Saluting again, he turned his horse slowly, and with inward
self-congratulations on the success of his ruse, was about to ride
leisurely away; hoping that his appearance of perfect trust
Would entirely prevent suspicion. But the hope was a vain one.
His uniform was so discolored by dust and smoke that it did not
betray him, but on his cap were the magic letters: “ U. S.”
A keen-eyed South Carolinian spied the symbols, and cried:
“He’s a d-d Yank; give him h-l, boys.”
Instantly, every man of them had leveled his rifle at the
figure of the horseman, who, bending low upon the animal’s
neck, made for the road. A moment more, and the balls were
falling around him like rain. The rowels were driven deep into
the horse's flanks as he swerved from side to side, obedient to
the hand upon the rein; for his rider hoped, by this means, to
avoid the whistling messengers of death. But in vain. Struck
by half a score of balls, the horse gave one convulsive shudder,
that the rider understood too well, and rolled over upon the
ground, dead.
Hoping that, if he could but gain a little time, he might be
saved by some change in the disposition of the forces, or that
some sudden onslaught of the Federals might compel the South
Carolinians to retreat, Montgomery lay as he fell, one leg be-
neath the dead horse, his head hanging over the edge of the lit-
tle ditch beside the road. All his powers were -summoned, not
for action, but for endurance, or rather simulation. Not a limb,
not a feature, did he move as he lay there; and as the Confeder-
ates approached closer and closer, he forbore to breathe, even so
far as the muscles of respiration could be controlled by the will
of a desperate man. A glance showed them, as they supposed,
that he was dead. But even the dead must be rifled of his arms;
one possessed himself of the Federal’s pistol; another was
stooping over him and endeavoring to loosen his sword-belt,
when nature re-asserted herself; he could no longer keep up the
illusion; and drawing a deep breath, he opened his eyes and
raised his head. The Confederate who had been bending over
him sprang back half frightened, half angry, and altogether
surprised at the action.
“O, you d-d shamming Yankee I’
In the Wrong Pew. 187
“I yield myself a prisoner of war, and demand proper treat-
ment.”
“What do you mean by your confounded 'possum tricks, any-
how 7”
“All’s fair in war.”
d Yankee scoundrel !
<< YOU d
5
Do you think we’ll let you
off that way, now 7 Do you think we will 7”
“Certainly I do; I have surrendered as a prisoner of war—”
17,
“Prisoner of war be hanged
“That’s a right
good idea, boys;
her e”'s plenty
of trees around.”
“Bull et S are
more plentiful than
ropes, and might be
more soothing as
long as he's a pris-
oner of war.”
“I’ve surrender-
ed as 52
“Surren dered ?
The h–l you did
We came and took
you.”
“I’ve surrender-
ed as a prisoner of
war, and expect to
be treated —”
“Canteens are all
you, at any rate, you d
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“I expect to be treated as such. Lead me to your command-
O
ing officer.”
He had risen to his feet by this time, having been all the while
struggling to disengage brimself from the weight of the horse;
and his manner and gesture were as imperative as if he were at
least a brigadier; the effect, however, was somewhat spoiled by
a shell, which at that moment came screaming towards them,
cutting its way through the thick foliage of the lofty trees; the
men jumped aside instinctively, and all escaped injury. Two of
them, seizing their muskets, pointed them at the prisoner as


























138 In the Wrong Pew.
vengefully as if they more than suspected him of having a hand
in firing the shell, and replied to his demand with :
“Come along, then,” coupling the demand with an oath.
But it was no part of Montgomery’s plan to be thus hurried
off into a hopeless captivity; he still had hopes, though he
hardly knew on what they were based; and he managed to
delay them considerably by insisting yet longer upon his
right to be treated as a prisoner of war, and the considera-
tion to be accorded him as such. Then, too, the fact that one of
the bullets they sent after him, as he rode away, had entered
his leg, was made to do good service; the wound was really
painful, and the limb was stiff, being, besides the shot, badly
crushed by the weight of the horse having fallen upon it; but
as after events were to show, he was not so nearly disabled as
he would have had them believe.
But however badly wounded he might be, or whether or not
his captors were disposed to exercise the virtue of patience, the
explosion of a second shell roused them to the perception of
the fact that the Federal artillerists suspected their presence
here, and they hurried their prisoner onward. Perceiving that
delay was no longer possible, he yielded to the necessity of the
case, and while inwardly resolved to seize the first favorable
opportunity for escape, appeared to be in as great a hurry as
the Rebs to reach the commanding officer.
“Well, go ahead; I’m in a hurry to get there, as well as you
are. Lead the way, quick.”
Two men had been detailed for his escort, that being thought
an ample guard for a prisoner, unarmed and wounded; as one
of these turned carelessly to the other with a rough jest upon
the captive’s “hurry,” the latter sprang past them both, and
despite the wounded leg, was once more in the woods. The as-
tonished Confederates had no resource but to follow as rapidly
as possible, but their speed was insufficient to overtake the man
whose desperate energy was carrying him away from captivity.
In a few minutes he was safe in the hands of his friends.
“Take him to the rear,” was the order of the officer who rec-
ognized him, as soon as his condition was known. The order
was obeyed, and reclining a little while under the shade of a
tree, his limb properly bandaged, and the “inner man” duly
fortified with whisky, he declared himself much better.
“I’ll call an ambulance, then, to take you to the hospital,”
In the Wrong Pew. 139
suggested one of the soldiers who had been detailed to convey
him thither.
“No, I thank you,” he replied, with less gratitude than em-
phasis in his voice; “get me a horse and lift me on his back.”
After some remonstrance on the part of the surgeon, the or-
der was obeyed, and the aid rode off to find Gen. Newton, and
report for duty. The officer listened to his brief recital of what
had passed, and answered, kindly :
“You’ve distinguished yourself enough for one day. Keep
quiet. There are plenty of others ready for duty.”
£ºries XIV.
A DESPERATE CHARGE.
Mechanicsville—Gaines' Mills—Position of the Federals—The Battle—Jackson's
Arrival—Fourth Texas—Charge on a Federal Battery—The Privates—Fight
for the Guns—Victory—The Cost.
HE battle of Mechanicsville had raged fiercely all day long
T on June 26th, 1862; and it was not until nine o’clock at
night that the last volley of musketry had been fired, that the
last gun had boomed over the battle-field. The Confederates had
suffered a defeat, but had fought so determinedly that Gen.
Porter, though victorious, judged it most prudent to withdraw
to a point where he could not be cut off from the main body of
the Federal army. At dawn the next day, then, he fell back
to Gaines’ Mill. The ground chosen for this second battle,
showed the judgment of a true general. Through a thick wood
which covered a sluggish stream and a dense morass, the Con-
federates must approach to assail the enemy's position—a range
of hills. A deep ravine guarded the wooded bluff where lay
McClellan’s left; and the precipitous sides of this cleft sheltered
the sharpshooters. A second body of infantry was strongly in-
trenched on the side of a hill; while a third, on the crest, sup-
ported the artillery. Emerging from the swampy woods, the
Confederates would be obliged to cross that open plain, full four
hundred yards wide, under the terrible fire of these protected
masses of troops.
Surely such a position was impregnable. The Federals had
but to stand and see the enemy broken by their unreturned fire,
as the waves break upon the rocky coast. The rocks stand fast
and the waves retreat to the wide ocean. Musketry and artillery
from the hills would sweep the plain, and mow down the brig-
140
A Desperate Charge. 141
ades as the grain is cut down by the scythe. It was terrible to
think that in a few hours such a fearful harvest would be ready
for the ingathering; but these were soldiers; there was no time
for sentiment, no time for humanity; the enemy was about to at-
tack, and he must be defeated.
The morning came and went, and the battle had not yet be-
gun. The Confederates, weary and shattered by the battle of
yesterday, were waiting for reinforcements. But at last the fight
began, though the assistance had not yet arrived ; and there was
furious fighting on those steep slopes; for the Confederates had
not paused to count the cost when once they had emerged from
the woods. The everlasting hills were shaken by the thunder of
the guns; the sky itself was clouded with a darkness, as of
night; the very sun no longer kept his wonted state above, but
rolled a rayless ball of flame along the darkened heavens.
It was a great battle, in all its grandeur, in all its terror, in
all its sickening carnage. Draw the veil over the picture, that
the misery may be hid; and only the glory seen like a star shin-
ing through a cloud.
The blind goddess held the scale, uncertain how it should turn,
when the promised help came to the Confederates. Ragged and
old were the so-called uniforms which they wore—“uniform
only in their diversity one from another.” Their feet were al-
most shoeless. They had lived on scanty rations of such quali-
ty as many a strong stomach would reject. Their leader, a stern
and silent man, was the most ungainly rider that ever sat a
horse; but at the battle of Bull Run, he had held his green
troops “like a stone wall;” and those very men were now his
famous veteran “foot cavalry.”
The word was given, and Jackson’s men advanced across the
open plain. In the division was the Fourth Texas Infantry, five
hundred and thirty strong. At the crest of the hill was a battery
of thirteen guns; and this the Texans were to take. Steadily,
swiftly onward, across the level plain they moved ; while the
cool and veteran regulars who manned the guns on the heights
they were to climb, sighted their pieces as calmly as if the tar-
get was not a living one; and sent a storm of shot and shell to
sweep their ranks. Onward came the Texans, unheeding that
raking fire. The word of command had been given—they had
been ordered to take that battery, and they were not the men
to fail in obeying orders. Well for them it was that they had
tº-
142
A Desperate Charge.
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144 A Desperate Charge.
no need to be encouraged as they went on, or the sacrifice of
life would have been unavailing.
They sweep up the hill—“all that is left of them.”—breathlessly
climbing the steep slope. They pause a moment when they
reach the first line of breastworks, actually out of breath with
the rapidity of their advance. But “delays are dangerous,”
and they advance hastily, though there is not a field officer left
to give the word of command, and many of the line officers are
left behind on the bloody path by which they have come. It is
the privates who are charging now—not a mere “command” in
which the officer is the one engrossing figure, as reports of most
battles read. They press on, steadily, dauntlessly, relentlessly,
as some tremendous piece of machinery, once set in motion, is
kept moving by the mere weight of the parts.
They have reached the brow of the hill; many of the artillery
men have been killed; the others too few to man the batteries,
would fain retreat, taking the guns with them ; but it may not
be so. Strewn over the blood-soaked earth, scattered among
the human corpses, are the dead horses. There are not enough
left alive to draw the guns away; and the Confederates have
taken the battery.
“They stood to their guns well,” wrote one of the Texans,
afterward, of the Federal artillerists, “only running when they
could do nothing else.” But they were driven back; the stars
and stripes replaced by the stars and bars, and the Confederates
turned to defend the battery that had been won at such a fearful
CoSt.
IBut the battle was by no means ended for those who had
reached the battery; it was ended only for those whose bodies
marked the path along which they had advanced, and that along
which the enemy had retreated. That enemy had but taken
another stand, from which, perhaps, he might charge for the re-
covery of the battery. A heavy fire began on the left of the
Texan’s, who rapidly wheeled their guns to this new front. So
deadly was the fusilade which they poured upon the enemy from
his cannon that two regiments surrendered their arms and colors.
But the Texans had no mind to encumber themselves with
prisoners, and these were handed over to another brigade that
had now come up, while the remnant of the Fourth pressed on-
ward in pursuit of the retreating Yankees. Soon they had ac-
complished their end; the field was in the hands of the Confed-
A Desperate Charge. § 145
erates; and as darkness came on, the Federals took advantage
of it to withdraw to the south bank of the Chickahominy.
The Fourth Texas was formed in line of battle, and only then
did the members realize how fearful had been the storm through
which they had passed. Each had seen his comrades falling
thick around him, but had not paused to think what must be the
carnage in the whole regiment. It was a decimation—but the
tenth man was living, and the nine were dead. Yet, as they
slept the soldier's sweetest sleep on the hard-won fleld, they felt
a thrill in their hearts like that which inspired the soldier of an
elder time to write:
“We are not many—we who pressed
Beside the brave who fell that day;
But who of us has not confessed
- He'd rather share their warrior rest
Than not have been at Monterey !"
gharter XV.
A SPY'S ADVENTURE.
The Spy—His Work Done—Leaving the Camp—Hunting the Boat—A Vain Search
—His Character Suspected in Camp—Pursued—Bloodhounds—The Stream
—Nearly Caught—The Dog's Fate—The Spy's Escape.
HE spy’s life is one of danger, while he is but little honored
T even by those whom he serves. He is a base creature—he
who stoops to deceive ; and the name of his office is a synonym of
much that is vile and nothing that is good. If he performs his
services, he receives, sometimes, the thanks and praise of the
commander, but his comrades look upon him with a feeling that
is halfjealousy, half contempt; if he fails, there is but one mode
of punishing him—that reserved for the meanest of criminals;
the form of death which Andre prayed might be spared him,
which Hale so heroically endured. And the spy’s name is re-
membered only by those at home, who have waited so patiently
for his letters.
Yet the work is difficult, and extremely necessary. In spite of
the dangers it presents, of the slight regard in which the indi-
vidual is held, there are men who willingly undertake and reso-
lutely perform it. As the boy delights to dart over the places
marked “dangerous,” and thinks rather of the going where no
one else dare venture than of the black waters under the thin ice,
so the man finds a certain satisfaction in undertaking a task more
perilous than his comrades will essay, and no shadow of a noose
falls across his calmly courageous mind. Yet the boy who hears
the ice cracking beneath his feet feels the chill waters already
engulfing him; and the spy who finds one part of his plan fail
him feels an uncomfortable stricture of the windpipe. Let us
follow the fortunes of a certain Missourian, who, in the spring and
• 146
4. Spy's Adventure. . 147
summer of 1862, had been acting in this capacity for Gen. Curtis,
commanding in Missouri and Arkansas.
His name has not been preserved in any of the various records
that have come down to us from the days of the War; for to have.
published it then, or while sectional feeling was still bitter though
open combat was ended, would have been worse than useless; it
would have been fraught with the greatest danger to the spy.
Let us recount the story of one of his adventures, then ; a story
which, though unsupported by his name, rests upon the best
authorities of its own time. -
Ten days had been spent in hanging around the outskirts of
the camp, talking, laughing, drinking, betting with the Confeder-
ates, and cautiously securing as much information as possible
without arousing suspicion. At last he had obtained satisfactory
answers to all the questions which had been given to him, and
he determined to get back to the Federal lines while his news
was still fresh enough to be of value. Stealing away from his late
boon companions, he bent his steps towards the stream where he
had concealed his skiff. *
The night was a dark one. The feeble rays of the new moon
were wholly obscured by the thick clouds that had gathered over
the sky, hiding the stars, and threatening every moment to pour
a torrent of rain upon the parched earth. The spy stole silently
onward, cautious as an Indian approaching an unsuspicious foe
that not a twig should snap under his foot. So he stole past the
pickets, though compelled to make a wide detour in order to es-
cape their watchful eyes. He reached the border of the wood
that fringed the stream, and peered through the darkness in the
direction where only the sullen murmur of the waters betrayed
the presence of the rivulet; but, in the intense darkness, not a
landmark could be discerned. He stooped to the earth, and
groped along on his hands and knees; but could find nothing
familiar, nothing to tell him where he was. Yet he was so near
to the Confederate pickets that the slightest sound might betray
him. º -
Under the shelter of the thick bushes that, growing out from
the side of the bank, lined the edge of the stream, there was
hidden his boat; but where? Was it above or below him, and
how far? As he vainly endeavored to find some familiar object,
however trifling, a cold sweat bathed every limb. His character
would be revealed by his departure; how soon his enemies would
- - , 10 -
148 A Spy's Adventure.
find out that he had gone he could not tell; it might be discovered
an hour hence, it might have been noticed already. The plash-
ing of the stream against its banks, the shrill noise of insects, the
plaintive song of the whip-poor-will, the deep bass of the frogs,
all united in a chorus of mockery at his perilous and utterly help-
less state. -
The Federal pickets must be reached before dawn, or our spy
would stretch Confederate rope—one of those grim acorns which
the old French king loved to see hanging from the oaks around
his summer castle. There was not a moment to be lost; the boat
could not be found, and he prepared to wade and swim the stream
that separated the two armies. Cautiously he descended the
steep bank, clinging to the bushes to preserve his footing; a
single misstep, a single unwary movement, a stone displaced and
rolling into the water, might alarm the enemy; for he knew not
but that there was a guard within a bayonet's length. He gained
at last the narrow strip of wet and sandy shore that borders the
shoaling stream, and stepped cautiously into the water. Not a
moment too soon had he made the resolution to cross without
further search for his boat; for as he felt the cool current upon
his fevered skin, he heard the deep bay of a bloodhound. The
enemy had already discovered his absence, suspected his mission
and started in pursuit. The unerring instinct of their terrible
ally had put them at once on his track.
There was still hope of eluding them, however, for the hound
would lose the scent at the edge of the stream ; the bloodhound's
instinct, like the witch’s power, cannot cross the midst of the cur-
rent. But to cross directly was to expose himself to their view,
in case the clouds should for one instant draw away from the
sky; he dared not risk it. Wading down the stream, still shel-
tered from sight by the overhanging bushes, he heard the pur-
suers coming nearer and nearer; he could hear the dog pushing
aside the branches as he made his way along the bank, search-
ing for the lost scent. The uneasy growls of the brute were
music in the ear of the spy, for they told that the scent had been
lost—might it long be unfound ! º
Devoutly praying thus, his knee suddenly struck upon some-
thing harder than the water, more regular in form than a stone.
It was the gunwale of a boat. In the joyful surprise of the mo-
ment, he could hardly repress the cry that rose to his lips; and
with trembling hands he began to search for the painter almost
A Spy's Adventure. 149
before he was fairly in the little vessel. It was found, and the
boat, the very one which he had sought so unsuccessfully, was cut
loose from her moorings just as the moon came out from behind
a cloud and revealed the surroundings. In all probability, the
pursuers had no boat near; they would be obliged to lose time
which would be of incalculable advantage to him.
But the sudden glimpse of the moonlight showed him more
than the boat in the dark waters, shadowed by the overhanging
bushes. On the log, half-buried in the earth, to which his boat
had been secured, crouched the bloodhound; and as the spy cut
the rope and grasped the oars, the dog sprang towards him. With
desperate energy the soldier pushed off, hoping that the animal
might miss his mark and fall into the river; but it was of no
avail. The savage brute had sprung at the throat of his prey;
he fell short of that, indeed, as the boat darted from the shore,
but he clung with a firm hold to the side of the boat.
The spy raised an oar, and aimed a blow at the brute's head;
but the dog evaded the stroke. In his effort to do so, however,
and the sudden movement of the man, the boat careened side-
ways, and the water rushed in, in a torrent. The blow evaded,
the dog, to enable himself to scramble into the boat, seized the
gunwale in his teeth. Action must be quick, now, if the spy
would escape, for in a moment more the dog would be at his
throat. His revolver was aimed and cocked; but a shot would be-
tray his whereabouts to his human enemies, and would be answer-
ed by a shower of balls from them. He dared not shoot, then,
though the red eyes of the hound were glaring savagely at him,
though the dog was making strenuous efforts to spring into the
boat.
There was but one resource remaining. Throwing the pistol
from him into the bottom of the boat, the spy drew his bowie-
knife, keen as a razor, and shining blue in the fitful moonlight.
He leaned towards the dog, and in an instant more had drawn
the sharp edge from side to side across the animal's throat, cut-
ting through the brawn and muscles to the nape of the neck.
The red eyes, that had gleamed so furiously upon him, lost their
dreadful lustre; the grasp of the firm white teeth on the gun-
wale relaxed ; the huge body sank into the water that closed
above it with hardly a ripple; and he was safe from the one
pursuer. -
Five minutes more, and the spy had reached the opposite
150 A Spy's Adventure.
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A Spy's Adventure. 151
shore. He was safe; for the Confederates dared not follow him
to a point so near the Federal lines. That very night he gave
his information at headquarters, and in a few days was, in an-
other disguise, seekingfort* green fields and pastures new "among
the enemy’s tents.
£HAFTER XVI.
COMMISSIONED BY THE ENEMY.
A Dangerous Errand—A Sharp Trick—Captured—Condemned—The Mysterious
Bullet—A Curious Officer—Curiosity Gratified—The Commission—The Spy's
Tºretended Distress—His Release.
MONG the many men who left the East for Kansas during
the latter half of the 'fifties, was a young New Yorker,
Iſenry W. Moore. He became one of the “Jayhawkers,” who
spread terror along the western border of Missouri, and when
the War broke out, enlisted, as a matter of course, in the service
of the United States. His training and natural abilities fitted
him for a first-class scout, and it was in this capacity that he was
employed by the Federal officers. On one occasion, being sent
to ascertain the position and strength of a certain force of guer-
illas, he came very near paying the penalty which is so often re-
quired of a solitary Scout sent out by the enemy; especially
when that scout chances to wear the uniform, not of his friends,
but of his captors.
It was a dangerous errand, and Moore did not disguise that to
himself. He must have some other safeguard than the suit of
butternut jeans which he assumed for the occasion. He finally,
after considering and rejecting various plans, adopted one which,
though not original with himself, was so ingenious that the man-
ner in which it was put into practice shall be the basis of our
present narrative. The top was cut from a large Minie-ball and
provided with a screw; the main portion was then hollowed out;
and he had a small leaden box with a screw top. On a piece of
parchment paper he wrote, in a minute and peculiar hand, a
commission in the secret service of the Confederate Army, and
signed it “Sterling Price’ in as close an imitation of the Mis-
\ 152
Commissioned by the Enemy. 153
souri general’s signature as he could compass. This was fold-
ed and put in the hollow ball, the top carefully screwed on and
the whole carefully deposited in an inside pocket.
All this, of course, consumed valuable time, but the event
showed that the time was not wasted. He had not gone very
far when he ascertained the whereabouts of the guerillas in ques-
tion in a very disagreeable manner—he was captured by them.
Conveyed to a safe distance from the road, they held a council
of war as to the disposition to be made of the prisoner. Most
of them were in favor of hanging him at once.
“I have orders to hang all such suspicious characters as you
are without delay,” the partisan chief announced to him, “and
I intend to obey my orders.”
Moore had carefully studied the part he was to play, and knew
it well. There was no bungling. He looked grave, as any man
will look in the presence of death, and seemed to control him-
self by an effort, as if his first impulse was to argue the case;
but, on second thought, he concluded to be silent in that respect.
The guerillas noticed this, but were at a loss to know what it
could mean. They were accustomed to be entreated to be mer-
ciful, when such a sentence was announced to a prisoner. All
this had occupied but a moment's time; and after a slight pause,
Moore spoke, in a firm, low tone:
“Well, if you intend to hang me, I cannot prevent your do-
ing it. Of course, I have nothing to prove what I say; but you’ll
be sorry for it, yet.”
“What do you mean º’ demanded the chief, savagely; for he
thought a threat was intended.
“I am not at liberty to explain. Mind, I do not say that you
will be punished for it in any way,” explained Moore, mildly,
“but you will regret that you have hanged an innocent man.
There's one thing I’d like to ask of you, though.”
“What is it 7”
“After—after I am dead, will you take this bullet to Gen.
Price?” he asked, producing the Minie-ball.
“What for 7” queried the Reb, his curiosity aroused.
“I cannot tell you,” replied the condemned man; “ of course
it has a meaning, which I am sure the general will understand;
but I am sworn not to reveal it. Won’t you take it to him 7”
“Well, yes, if it will do you any good,” asserted the officer,
looking curiously at the ball, which he turned over and over;
154 Commissioned by the Enemy.
“though I don’t see what meaning old Pap Price is going to get
out of it. He's a d-d good soldier, but he ain't overly sharp
at such foolishness, I don’t believe. It takes a lean, Yankeefied
looking fellow like you to think of such things.”
“I am sure he will understand it,” persisted the scout.
“All right; he shall have a chance to puzzle over it, anyhow.”
“Captain, hadn’t we better proceed to business!” suggested
one of the men, approaching the officer. “Looks to me like
that fellow’s just trying to gain time; don’t it seem like it 7”
“Why should he 7”
“He may expect to be rescued by a Yankee force, if he can
only hold off a little while.”
“That’s so—hello l what is this 7”
He had suddenly seen the fine line, unnoticed before, between
the lid and the body of the leaden box. He now tried to pull it
apart; and finding that that course failed, he began to unscrew
it. The prisoner was visibly affected.
“Don’t open it, I beg of you,” he pleaded ; “I am sworn to
secrecy regarding it, and Gen. Price will think I have broken
my oath. Grant me that, although you hang me.”
“Oh, shut up, will you? What need he know about it, any-
how 7” was the reply, as the guerilla opened the tiny case. As
he did so, the piece of parchment paper, tightly compressed as
it had been, pressed outward; he drew it from the case, and
opened it. As he read the commission in the “secret service of
the Confederate States Army,” his eyes dilated with surprise,
and his lips emitted a long, low whistle. He called two or three
of his men aside, summoning by name those who appeared to be
of the most importance.
“Do you know Gen. Price's handwriting when you see it?”
he asked of them, in a tone so low as to be inaudible to the pris-
oner and his guards. The men answered they didn’t.
“Do you think this is genuine?” he asked, next, displaying
the commission, while he held in his hand the box and its lid.
“What in thunder would a man carry a counterfeit com-
mission in that way, for 7” suggested one of his auditors; “ now
if he’d showed it freely, you might have suspected him.”
The others nodded their concurrence in what their comrade had
said, and in a few words more, it was determined that the pris-
oner should be released, instead of being hanged. The decision
was announced to him. He insisted, however, that the partisan
Commissioned by the Enemy. 155
chief should communicate to Gen. Price the circumstances under
which the “commission” had seen the light of day; the promise
was given readily enough, but whether it was fulfilled or not is
more than we can say ; probably not; so that the captors never
learned that Gen. Price would have known the secret of the bul-
let no better than they.
The scout, released, hastened back to the main camp, and told
his story. A force of cavalry was sent out, under his guidance,
against the band by which he had been taken and condemned;
and a considerable number of them were taken, only a few mak-
ing their escape.
£HAPTER XVII.
CAPTAIN TIGEITNING’S TRICKS.
Morgan's Kentucky Raid—One of his Assistants—Reason for the Nickname—A
Good Beginning—A Strange Coincidence—A Practical Joke—Lebanon—A
Vanished Operator—A Bet Won—And Information Gained—An Astonished
Operator—An Important Message—The Enemy Knew Too Much—But Not
For Long—A Missing Instrument—An Alarmed Operator—Embarrassing
Questions—Unsatisfactory Answers—Telling the Truth DoesNo Harm—A Pru-
dent Operator—“Fixing Up a Plan to Capture Morgan”—A Sharp Repri-
mand—An Astonishing Statement—The Signature Explained—General Or-
ders No. 1–No More Such Work—Ellsworth’s Invention.
N June, 1862, when John H. Morgan was but a colonel, al-
though in command of a brigade in the Confederate Army,
there was, among the gallant young Kentuckians who flock-
ed to his standard, a certain George A. Ellsworth. In time
of peace, the new recruit had been a telegraph operator, and he
intimated to Col. Morgan that if provided with a pocket instru-
ment he might be able, by intercepting messages sent from one
Federal officer to another, and by sending spurious dispatches,
render a greater service to the command than the ordinary
trooper. The officer lost no time in providing the private with
the instrument for which he had asked ; and, as our story will
show, he never had reason to regret having done so.
July 4th, 1862, Col. Morgan, with a force of about eight hun-
dred men, left Knoxville for his afterwards famous raid into the
interior of Kentucky; a military exploit only eclipsed, in its
own peculiar way, by that later one, the details of which will be
found elsewhere in this volume. Crossing the Cumberland
IRiver, at a point near where it cuts the southern boundary of the
state, the first telegraph wire which they came upon was at
Horse Cave, on the Louisville and Nashville Railroad. Leaving
156
Captain Lightning’s Tricks. © 157
the command encamped at some little distance from the railway
line, Col. Morgan went forward to the telegraph wire, with
eleven men, of whom Mr. Ellsworth was of course one. It was
dark when they struck the wire; and, curiously enough, the first
word which the operator heard, upon attaching his instrument,
was the name “Morgan.”
Using all possible care, so as not to interrupt any message and
thus give the alarm at one end or the other of the line, Mr. Ells-
worth cut the wire, and attaching his instrument to that which
came from the north, prepared to obtain as much information
of the enemy’s intentions as he chose to commit to the telegraph.
The Confederate soon found that he was receiving messages from
Gen. Boyle, commanding the forces at Louisville, to Col. Bruce,
at Bowling Green. The dispatches, generally, did not afford
much information, except that all the Federals in the state ap-
peared to be on the defensive against Morgan, and did not intend
to fight him unless he attacked them.
A violent thunderstorm was raging around them, and the dis-
charges of electricity were so frequent that they seriously inter-
fered with the work; but as not more than a word or so was lost
at any one time, they were enabled to make out the general pur-
port of the messages. But they could not, of course, expect
Louisville to “talk” all the time; there must be something sent
in reply. Accordingly, Col. Morgan directed that Gen. Frye,
who was in command at Nashville, should inform Gen. Boyle
that Forrest had taken Murfreesboro in a manner most disastrous
to the Federals; with some particulars as to the losses of men
and supplies. This was, of course, purely fictitious; but by a
strange coincidence, Gen. Forrest did take Murfreesboro a day
or two afterward, under precisely such circumstances as were
thus stated. &
To avoid all suspicion, such as the sending of purely military
dispatches might entail, Col. Morgan directed that a certain
wholesale liquor dealer in Lexington should be telegraphed to
send two barrels of a specified brand of whisky, to a customer
in Nashville. They learned sometime afterwards that the liquor
had been duly forwarded, C. O. D., and the man to whom it was
addressed having declined to receive it, it was returned to the
wholesale dealer, who swore at Morgan, who had given him two
sets of express charges to pay. In answer to the inquiries of the
operator at Louisville as to why no messages were received from
º, f
158 *º Captain Lightning's Tricks.
the south, Mr. Ellsworth answered that the southern wires were
badly out of order; but whether it was the work of the storm, or
of “that Rebel Forrest,” he could not tell.
This one trial had thoroughly convinced Col. Morgan of the
usefulness of his new assistant; and Mr. Ellsworth was placed on
his staff, with the rank of captain. But the more formal title by
which he was known to the War Department was only seldom
heard in the command to which he belonged. Whether it was
because of this one stormy night in which he worked, exposed to
all the fury of the elements, or because of the agent which he
employed to discover the secrets of the enemy, he was familiarly
known as Captain Lightning. From whatever reason it may
have been given, the name was so appropriate that it stuck
to him.
It is not our purpose to trace the progress of the command, or
to narrate their adventures, except so far as it is necessary to the
understanding of this one man’s actions. We omit mention, then,
of all between this night in the woods, when the summer storm
raged so fiercely around the little squad of men, and the 12th of
the month.
It was three o’clock on that July morning when the brigade
rode into Lebanon, Ky. Looking down the main street of the
town, there was but one light visible; and from the arrangement
of the wires, Capt. Ellsworth felt convinced that the telegraph
office was located in that very building. Nor was he deceived.
The light was left, like everything else, just as it had been when
the operator had been in possession; but now he had “left for
parts unknown,” and the enemy was in his place. That same
enemy would have much preferred that he should have stayed,
for a while at least; for some puzzling questions suggested them-
selves: What was the signal of the office? There was nothing
to indicate the answer—the signal book must have been carried
off. Then, too, what had been the last thing that the operator
had said? Had he announced his intention to “light out,” and
advised his comrade to “go and do likewise,” or had haste com-
pelled him to take French leave?
But if doubts were not resolved, they were soon ended, for a
time, by the necessity of attending to a call for “B” from “Z.”
Now, Capt. Lightning had not the slightest idea who “Z” was,
or what point he represented; and he had serious misgivings
as to whether “B” meant Lebanon. But as he had no way of
Captain Lightning’s Tricks. 159
\\ *.
finding out, he concluded to answer the call ; and he received the
question:
“What of the marauders now 7”
He could probably have told all that “Z” wanted to know
about the “marauders,” but contented himself with the modest
reply:
“We are still holding them at bay—no further news.”
Swiftly back over the wires flashed the astonishing inform-
ation, doubly useful :
“There are eight hundred troops here coming to Lebanon to
your aid.”
We have said that this information was doubly useful; for not
only was the statement regarding the troops highly important,
but the wording showed him that “B” really meant the opera-
tor at Lebanon. But in order to make use of the message itself,
it was necessary to know from what point the troops were to
come; so that the time of their arrival and their freshness might
be duly calculated. The case was duly explained to Col. Mor-
gan, who had just entered the office.
“Ask him where he is, was the ready suggestion.”
“That would never do in the world, Colonel ; he’d be sure to
“smell a rat.’”
There was silence for a moment, as the telegrapher endeavor-
ed to think of some feasible plan. At last, exclaiming, “I have
it!” he stepped to the instrument, from which, in his perplexity,
he had turned away, and rapidly sent the following message:
“There is a gentleman in the office here that has offered to bet
a box of cigars that you can’t spell the name of your station
right.”
“What does he take me for, anyhow 7” was flashed back.
“Don’t know,” Ellsworth answered ; “but I’ve taken the bet.
Don’t go back on me, now. Send it along, and be sure you spell
it right.”
The ticking spelled out the name “Lebanon Junction.”
“Thank you,” went the reply, “he acknowledges that he has
lost.”
“How did he think I’d spell it?”
“With two b's.”
“Lebanon Junction was about thirty miles away, and Col.
Morgan decided that it would be best to move onward. Accord-
ingly, after having burned all the United States Góvernment
160 Captain Lightning's Tricks.
stores, including some four thousand stand of arms, they took
up the line of march toward the northeast. Camping at Versailles
the next night, Captain Ellsworth was ordered to take a squad
of men with him and tap the wires between Midway and Frank-
fort. He of course obeyed, but no information of any import-
ance was gained. The Federals were still on the defensive, de-
termined not to fight unless they were attacked. From this
point they pressed on to Midway, so called from its position rel-
ative to Frankfort and Lexington.
It was the 15th of July. They were two or three miles from
the town when Capt. Lightning received orders to take one or
two men with him, and ride into the town in order to capture
the telegraph operator before he could give warning that the
Confederates were approaching. Selecting one reliable man, he
rode rapidly onward, and found the operator sitting on the plat-
form in front of his office. Kentucky is no less famous for its
fine horses than for its pretty girls and good whisky—every one
rides; so that the appearance of these two men on horseback
created no alarm in the mind of the operator. They were not in
uniform—such luxuries were hard to obtain in those days;
people had to be content with such clothes as they could get;
and they were armed only with pistols, which were hidden by
their coats. Dismounting and tying their horses, in so leisurely
a manner as to indicate their peaceful character, they spoke to
the operator, and, preceded by him, entered the office.
“There’s a blank,” he said, pushing a number towards them;
supposing that they were only ordinary senders.
“Thank you,” returned Capt. Ellsworth, “it’s hardly worth
while to write it. Just ask the operator at Lexington what
time of day it is, will you?”
“Sir” exclaimed the operator, starting back in astonishment.
He was yet more surprised to find the muzzle of a revolver in
his face, while the quiet tone became deep and stern as it said:
“Do as I tell you, at once.”
The command was at once obeyed, and Capt. Lightning thus
learned the operator's style, so that he could send the messages
in the same way.
“Why are there two wires here 7” was next demanded.
“This one is what we call the railroad wire; the other is the
military wire. The military dispatches don’t come here at all.”
“They don’t 7 We'll have to fix that, Maddox,” to the soldier
gº'
Captain Lightning’s Tricks. 161
who had accompanied him; “climb up and cut that wire, please.”
“Really, sir, I must protest —” began the operator, aghast
at the other's cool impudence.
“Really, sir, it will do no good for you to protest. I am
Capt. Ellsworth, of Col. Morgan’s staff. That cloud of dust down
the road means that the whole command is coming up. You are
my prisoner, and I will take charge of the office. What is your
name?” -
“Woolums,” was the reply.
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“Do as I tell you, at once.”
“I hope you will see the wisdom of giving me all the assist-
ance you can, Mr. Woolums. Maddox, you will take charge of
the prisoner while I answer the call.”
The call chanced to be from Cincinnati, from which point a
dozen or so of unimportant dispatches were received. Shortly
afterwards, there came a summons from Lexington, and the fol-
lowing message was received
“LEXINGTON, July 15, 1862.
To GEN. FINNELL, Frankfort: -
I wish you to move the forces at Frankfort, on the line of the Lexing-
ton Railway immediately, and have the cars follow and take them up as soon as possi-
ble. Further orders will await them at Midway. I will, in three or four hours,
move forward on the Georgetown pike; Morgan left Versailles this morning with



162. - Captain Lightning's Tricks.
eight hundred and fifty men, on the Midway road, moving in the direction of
Georgetown. BRIG.-GEN. WARD.”
By the time that this message was received, the entire com-
mand had entered the town, and Col. Morgan had come to the
telegraph office to see what was being done there.
“That’s a little too near the truth, Ellsworth,” he said, as the
dispatch was read to him; “they mustn't be allowed to know so
much. Can’t you throw them off the track.”
Captain Lightning reflected a short time, and then dashed off
a few lines, and handed them to Morgan. - -
“How will that do, sir?” .
The dispatch was dated at Frankfort, addressed to Gen. Ward,
and read thus: -
“My last message was founded on unreliable information. Mor-
gan, with his combined force, has driven in our pickets, and will
make a desperate effort to take the capital. Come to my assist-
ance at once. Do not come by railroad, as Morgan has undoubt-
edly destroyed it by this time.” -
A short time afterward, they learned that three thousand men
were marched at double-quick for thirteen miles before it was
discovered that the dispatch was a hoax. When he heard this
Capt. Lightning congratulated himself that he had not been cap-
tured by those men while the memory of that march was fresh
in their minds. But enough had been done at Midway, and in
an hour after the troops had entered the town, they were on the
march to Georgetown. Arrived at this place, the telegraph
office was found to be locked, but a certain Mr. Smith was point-
ed out to the Confederate as the operator. - -
“You are the telegraph operator at this point?”
“I am, sir.”
“I am Capt. Ellsworth, of Col. Morgan's staff. I must trouble
you to turn your instrument over to me.”
“I—I am sorry, sir, but I have just sent it to Lexington to be
repaired.” -
“Rey, magnet and sounder?”
“All, sir; every part.”
“That is too bad. I have the Lebanon and Midway instru-
ments, and was anxious to add another to my collection.” *
Mr. Smith stuck to his story, and Capt. Ellsworth, affecting to
believe it, became very friendly. They had a pleasant chat, and
finally the soldier invited his new acquaintance to take supper
Captain Lightning's Tricks. 163
with him at the hotel. The invitation was accepted, and the
guest, in due time, introduced to Col. Morgan.
“Ah, by the way, Ellsworth,” said the commander, “I sup-
pose you added to your collection here?”
“No ; Mr. Smith informs me that he has sent his instrument
to Lexington for repairs.”
“That’s unfortunate, since you were in such a hurry to com-
plete the magic number. What do you intend to do about it?”
“O, if I can’t get the instrument, I’ll have to take the opera-
tor. I don’t much like to send him to Dixie, but I don’t see how
I can do any better.” e
When supper was over, Mr. Smith requested a private inter-
view with Capt. Ellsworth, at which he produced the instru-
ment. Col. Morgan and his aid repaired to the telegraph office
soon afterward, and the latter desired that the operator at Lex-
ington should be called.
“I hardly think we can fool him, Colonel,” objected Captain
Lightning; “for I think that Smith must have told him his rea-
son for stopping work; but I’ll try it.”
Lexington was called, and answered. After a few unimport-
ant dispatches both ways, the question was asked of the George-
town operator:
“Where is Morgan now?”
“Hadn’t I better tell him the truth, Colonel?” asked Ells-
worth, as he received the dispatch; “they must know our
whereabouts so nearly that any attempt to deceive them would
result in their finding out who is sending.”
Receiving an answer in the affirmative, he sent a statement of
the true position of the camp, and the real number of men. Back
came the question :
“If Morgan's camp is only a mile from town, and his officers
in town, how can you be working the line? He has an operator
on his staff; what has become of him 7. How did you prevent
his taking your instrument?” -
The reply was a judicious mixture of truth and falsehood:
“I concealed my instrument and told him that I had sent it to
Lexington for repairs. I can have no light in the office, as no
one must know that I am at work. I receive by sound only.”
It was less usual, twenty years ago, for the operator to read
by sound than it is now; many, especially in the smaller towns,
clinging to the paper strips used in the earliest forms of the in-
11
164 Captain Lightning's Tricks.
strument. Whether for this, or for some other reason, the Lex-
ington people did not think the pathetic picture of telegraphing
under difficulties was drawn from life; the story was, to use a
more modern expression, too transparent. Back came the ques-
tion, short and sharp :
“Where's your assistant?”
Georgetown didn’t know ; in fact, the present operator didn’t
know that he had one, but he omitted to say so to Lexington.
“Haven’t you seen him to-day ?”
Ellsworth ventured a “no ;” the reply was evidently not in
accordance with Smith's dispatches, for the batteries were sud.
denly disconnected, and communication with Lexington entirely
cut off. The military authorities at Lexington, learning that
Morgan’s operator was at Georgetown, refused to believe the
true information that had been received from that point; and be-
cause Ellsworth had said that eight hundred and fifty Confeder-
ates were encamped on a certain farm, they straightway con-
cluded that the force was moving in some other direction. It
was certainly one instance in which truth-telling served better
than lying.
Captain Lightning added another instrument to his collection
after the fight at Cynthiana, on the 17th. The operator had fled
the town, and the apparatus had disappeared ; but a little close
questioning disclosed the direction of the flight; and in a hol-
low tree that stood near the line of retreat, the instrument was
found, snugly stowed away. The brigade turned southward from
Cynthiana, that being the most northerly point which they
struck during the raid ; and returned to Tennessee by a route
about forty or fifty miles to the eastward of that by which they
had advanced. No event of importance occurred in the telegraph
department until they reached Somerset, about forty-five miles
north of the Tennessee line, and nearly due south of Lexington.
It was nearly 10 o’clock on the night of July 21st, and the
men, who had been in the saddle since early morning, were
thoroughly worn out. They were still six or eight miles from
Somerset, when the order was given : “Captain Lightning to
the front l” It was some time before he could be found ; for, in
the darkness, one man riding along fast asleep looks very much
like another under the same conditions; but at last he was dis-
covered. Wide awake as soon as he learned that he was want-
ed, he urged his horse forward to the head of the column, where
Captain Lightning’s Tricks. 165
rode the colonel. There he received orders to take two men,
and pushing forward into the town, capture the telegraph oper-
ator before he could learn that the raiders were near. When he
arrived at the office, there was but one man in it.
“Are you the operator?”
“I am not.”
“Where is he 7” -
“Well,” drawled the other, “he looked out of that window
and saw you and your companions riding down the street; and
being a bashful man, he went out of this window just as soon as
he saw that you were coming to see him.”
“Did he send any message in regard to leaving the office 7”
“My friend,” returned the stranger, “not being a telegrapher,
I cannot tell what message is being sent, unless I see it written
out ; but I am quite sure that he did not send any such dispatch,
for he didn’t take the time. He was intent on saving his own
bacon, and lit out without any regard for any one else.”
But a call from Louisville at this moment claimed Ellsworth’s
attention ; and responding to it, he was asked :
“Any signs of Morgan yet 7”
There was a signal-book in the office, and this enabled him to
find the signal for his station, In a moment's time he replied:
“None. What are the latest reports ſ” -
“Morgan, with a thousand men, left Crab Orchard at 1 P. M.
to-day. Keep a sharp lookout and let us know of his approach.
Be sure to secure your instrument, so that it will not fall into
the hands of his operator.”
Several dispatches, of little or no interest, passed to and fro,
and at midnight the operator at Somerset asked permission to
close the office that he might get some sleep. Of course he did
not urge that he had been riding since early that morning; if
he had, they would have excused him, beyond a doubt. As it
was, the answer came :
“No, you must stay. We are fixing up a plan to capture Mor-
gan, and may need you.”
For two hours longer the worn-out man remained at his post,
waiting to hear their plan for capturing Morgan; but when he
found no information seemed likely to come, he begged off. But
they would release him only until six o'clock; and promising
to be on hand promptly at that hour, he betook himself to bed.
Instead, however, of returning promptly at six, the office did
--r---ºr --
166 Captain Lightning’s Tricks.
not see him again until nearly nine. He gave the signal that he
was on duty again, and received in reply a withering rebuke—
only it didn’t seem to wither him worth a cent. Even the con-
clusion of the message, which might have been alarming to any
other operator produced no other effect than a grim chuckle of
satisfaction.
“If you cannot attend to the duties of your position any bet-
ter, we will send a reliable man to relieve you.”
His news that there were no signs of Morgan yet, however,
seemed to exert a cooling influence upon their anger, and a few
messages, of little importance, were received. Evidently they
had not yet fixed up their plan to capture Morgan. At any rate,
they had not yet tried it when, an hour before noon, that officer
came in and dictated this message :
“SoMERSET, RENTUCKY, July 22d, 1862.
To GEO. D. PRENTICE, Esq., Editor Louisville Journal, Louisville, Kentucky:
I have passed through seventeen counties, captured two thousand pris-
oners, four thousand stand of arms, and destroyed $1,000,000 worth of United States
Government stores. I am now off for Dixie.
JoHN H. MoRGAN,
Colonel Commanding Brigade.”
The sending of the dispatch progressed smoothly enough
until the words “United States Government stores '' were reach-
ed, when Louisville suddenly interrupted Capt. Lightning with
the question :
“What in the world do you mean by that ?”
“The signature will explain it all,” returned Ellsworth, and
went on with the message. Sure enough, the signature did
throw a flood of light on the subject. And now Louisville be-
gan to question :
“How long have you been in Somerset?”
“Since eleven, last night.”
“Have you captured the operator there 7”
“Haven’t seen him. He went out of the window before I got
here. You ought to employ more polite men.”
“It’s a good joke on us, anyhow. You’ve fooled us com-
pletely.”
As a pianist closes a sparkling series of notes with a few heav-
ier chords, so Captain Ellsworth wound up his operations in
Kentucky by the following dispatch :
Captain Lightning’s Tricks. 167
TELEGRAPH DEPARTMENT OF KENTUCKY,
“HEADQUARTERs,
CONFEDERATE STATES OF AMERICA.
GENERAL ORDERs, No. 1.
When an operator is positively informed that the enemy is marching
on his station, he will immediately proceed to destroy the telegraphic instruments and
all material in his charge. Such instances of carelessness as were exhibited on the
part of the operators at Lebanon, Midway and Georgetown, will be severely dealt
with.
By order of G. A. ELLSworth,
General Military Superintendent C. S. Telegraphic Dept.”
Captain Lightning's services, thus memorably begun, were in
frequent demand in all of Morgan’s expeditions. Cutting tele-
graph wires and communicating with one end of the lines by
means of a pocket instrument, was, of course, a means frequent-
ly used, by many other officers, to gain information of the ene-
my's plans; but Morgan's aid seemed to possess, in the highest
degree, the power of deceiving those with whom he was in com-
munication. Finally, as if to prove how thoroughly he had
studied the subject, he has, since the close of the war, perfected
an invention which makes it impossible for any one to play the
operator such tricks as he played the Federals while he was in
the Confederate Army.
NoTE.—Since preparing the above article, the writer has come
into possession of a slip from the Atlanta Confederacy, dated in
August, 1862, giving a number of dispatches sent from Somerset.
In addition to those in the text, there is the following:
“SoMERSET, July 22d.
GEN. T. J. Boy LE, Louisville:
Good morning, Jerry. This telegraph is a great institution. You
should destroy it, as it keeps you too well posted. My friend, Ellsworth, has all of
your dispatches since July 10th on file. Do you wish copies?
JoHN H. MORGAN,
Col. Commanding Brigade.”
gºver XVIII.
A WONDERFUL RIDE. & tº
Self Praise is Half Scandal—An Enemy's Generosity—Charge on the Battery—A
Cannoncer's Resolve—Saving a Gun—Five Hundred Bullets—The Mark Un-
hit—Cheered by the Enemy—Safe.
ANY a man who manifests no extraordinary courage on
V | the battle-field is extremely brave when with his com-
rades beside the camp-fire; and, when sitting, pen in hand, with
a sheet of smooth white paper before him, remembers gallant
deeds and daring achievements which no man ever witnessed.
How many a broken soldier who “shoulders his crutch and
shows how fields were won,” has done himself the chief part in
gaining that victory, although the unjust world has given the
glory to another | Far be it from us to cavil at any man’s just
claim to honor; but that such may not be deprived of any por-
tion of what is due them, let us examine rigorously each claim
that is advanced, and receive none that do not deserve our ac-
ceptance. -
Sometimes the case assumes a different form. Was there ever
a great man without his admiring biographers? Sometimes a
partial friend narrates the exploits and adventures of a man who
cannot or will not speak for himself. Whether it be told by the
chief actor or by another, who is really a satellite, the story
must be carefully considered; especially when, as in the case of
adventures during the “late on pleasantness,” there is a parti-
san feeling, hot and bitter, for which we are to make allowance.
But when an enemy tells the story, what then 7 Then indeed it
must be true—all that is said in praise of the heroism displayed;
for nearly every instinct of our poor, weak human nature tends
to blind us to the merits of our foes. Not a word, then, would
168
A Wonderful Ride. 169
we disbelieve of the story that follows; for it rests on the word
of an enemy, who could have no reason for enhancing the cour-
age of the chief actor; not even the motive which leads the
wrestler to represent his conquered opponent as possessed of
extraordinary strength and skill.
The second battle of Bull Run, or Manassas (for the oppos-
ing forces named it differently) lasted for two days. At the end
of the first, August 29th, 1862, neither side could claim the vic-
tory, and neither would acknowledge itself whipped. At dawn
of the 30th, then, the veterans of both armies went at it again
with renewed energy, and before night the result was seen—the
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Federal forces retreated, leaving the field in the hands of the
Confederates. But before, the forces of Pope and McDowell had
given up hope, there occurred the incident of the battle which
is our present subject. Told, as the story is, by one of the Con-
federate officers, many of the points we would wish to know in
connection with it are not related ; not even the name of the
hero is recorded.
Iſood's men charged down the hill from the Henry House upon
the first Federal line; and the gunners saw that their battery was
doomed. One, at least, was resolved that one of the guns should
not fall in the hand of the Confederates; but the task of saving
it was a fearful one. Between the battery and the nearest point
to where the cannon would be safe, there was a ditch, four feet



















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A Wonderful Ride. 171
wide, and equally deep. This, of course, was a barrier which
the heavy gun-carriage could not pass; he must drive around it,
and the end was half a mile or more from the starting point.
The horses, four magnificent light grays, had not been unhitch-
ed, so that no time was lost in the start. Along the ditch he
drove, and his driving was like that of Jehu ; for Hood's men
were not far off, the whole brigade wreathed in smoke from their
own muskets.
Thick and fast fell the balls around him ; but not one hit the
mark. The powerful horses seemed to understand fully the
state of affairs, and strained every muscle to win in this terrible
race with death. Onward, onward still, with no slackening of
pace—he did not spare the noble horses—he had not spared
himself.
Now a portion of this dreadful ordeal by fire is passed ; the
Confederates of that one brigade have swept down upon the line
of Federals; it has broken, and fled in disorder. The gunners
have left their post, and their guns are turned against them—all
but one. The hot sun of a Southern August, though clouded
now by the smoke of the battle, has drawn every drop of mois-
ture from the parched earth; and the dust rises at every step
the horses take, until they are almost hidden from sight. The
first brigade, that which was attacking the battery itself, had been
passed, and man and horses escaped unnoticed and unscathed.
But the real trial had hardly begun, for here was another body
of troops ready, as it appeared, waiting for him.
The gun-carriage thundered along in its attendant cloud of
dust. The Confederates took in the situation in a moment; or-
ders to fire were unnecessary; they took aim as by common con-
sent, and hundreds of bullets were sent on their way, that death
might win the race. But it seemed all in vain. The heroic
charioteer seemed to bear a charmed life.
“Aim lower, boys,” cried an officer, as he rode along the line;
“fire at the horses, not at the man.”
Perhaps, while he recognized the desirability, in a military
point of view, of capturing the gun, he was not unwilling to
spare the life of the heroic enemy. Perhaps he was anxious
only to take the gun and cared nothing for the gunner; more
probably he realized that if he could disable the horses he would
capture the man. At any rate, the mad progress must be
stopped.
172 A Wonderful Ride.
His orders were obeyed, and he marked one man, especially,
from whose shot he hoped much. This soldier was known in all
the regiment for the excellence of his marksmanship; and as he
dropped on one knee, sighted his piece, and sent the ball on
its way, his comrades looked confidently to see one of the horses
fall to the earth. The bullet sped through the air, and the car-
riage still thundered on. Again the sharpshooter took aim, and
again he missed his mark. The brave cannoneer seemed to be
made of other material than flesh and blood, else surely some
one of those five hundred bullets would have reached his heart.
Onward, onward still, and at last the head of the ditch is
reached and turned at full gallop—he has run the gauntlet; he
has passed the ordeal of fire; he is out of range; he is on the
hillside. He rises, turns in his saddle, and looks defiantly to-
wards the enemy whose bullets could not harm him; he waves
his hat, and cheers; they see the gesture, though they cannot
hear the sound ; in all those regiments, there is hardly a man
who can find it in his heart to regret the cannoneer's escape;
and from the Confederate ranks rises an answering cheer for
the brave Federal. Then they press on, intent only on driving
from the field the army to which he belongs, and this incident
passes down into history to be almost—but not quite–lost
among the innumerable throng of brave deeds by brave men.
ſhares XIX
A GENERAL’S ESCAPE.
Manassas or Bull Run—Hunting for Troops—An Unexpected Meeting—A Trio of
Stragglers—Who Exchanged Opinions—One is Suspected—They had Better
have Let Him Go–A Surprised Federal.
N the latter part of August, 1862, when, for the second time,
I the thunder of the guns was heard upon “Manassas’ solemn
plains,” and Bull Run was again crimson with the blood of
two armies, Brig.-Gen. Pryor found that it was necessary for
him to call up certain regiments which he had hitherto held in
reserve. Every aid had been dispatched on various errands,
not a man could be spared from the line of battle; the general
then decided to be his own messenger, and started off on foot.
He reached in safety the position held by the two regiments, or-
dered them forward to that which he wished them to occupy,
and started on his return; expecting, of course, to find his men
where he had left them. But the position of the two armies
sometimes changes so suddenly during a great battle that one can
never be quite certain as to the whereabouts of any one particu-
lar command ; and so Gen. Pryor found to his sorrow.
For his troops were nowhere to be seen when he arrived at
the point they had so recently occupied. Doubtless, he thought,
they had moved onward ; he would follow them to the front.
Trudging forward, he soon came upon a most remarkable sight
—two Federal soldiers, sitting at the foot of a hayrick. What
could it mean * They were evidently not prisoners, for they re-
tained their arms; near them stood their two muskets, one with,
and the other without a bayonet. He had come upon them too
suddenly to admit of retreat; and being covered by a Mexican
poncho, which completely concealed his uniform and all insig-
173
174 A General’s Escape.
nia of rank, he decided to pass by as unconcernedly as he could,
as if he were one of their own comrades. But his plans were
foiled.
“Hallo, you !” called one of them. It would not do to disre-
gard this, especially as it was repeated with some emphasis, and
he replied in Yankee fashion, with a question:
“What do you want?”
“Come over here a minute.”
He dared not disobey; it was two to one, and very close quar-
ters.
“Come from the front ?” asked one.
“Yes, just now,” he replied.
“How's everything going on there?”
“Oh, all right. I got tired of it, though, as you seem to
have done.”
The Federals laughed at the hit, and one replied:
“Well, it is apt to tire a fellow. Just listen to that firing !
Don’t you feel good about it when you think you’re a mile and a
half inside the lines? I do, and I don’t count myself a coward
either.”
Gen. Pryor could not say that it made him “feel good” to
know that he was so far within the enemy’s lines; so he evaded
the question, and returned in the same frank tone that the Yan-
kee had used :
“Well, it does very well to be in the battle for a little, but it’s
hard work, and we can fight all the better for having a little rest
once in a while.”
“You were taking a stroll for the benefit of your health,
weren’t you, when we hailed you?”
“Yes, and found it pretty hot weather for walking, too. You
seem to have a pretty comfortable place of it here,” answered
the Confederate, who found it decidedly uncomfortable, and was
beginning to wonder how in the world he would get out of it.
“Which division do you belong to, Pope's or McDowell’s 7”
“Pope's; and you?” the general asked in reply, hoping to
divert their questions from such a decidedly personal course.
“Pope's, too. What regiment?”
The stranger had been abstractedly gazing in the direction of
the firing ever since he had asked about the division to which
his companions belonged. He now turned suddenly, and to gain
time, pretended not to have heard the inquiry:
tº
A General’s Escape. I75
“I beg your pardon, but what did you say?”
“I asked you what your regiment was,” returned the Federal,
in a somewhat sharper tone than he had yet used.
Here was a dilemma; he had unfortunately laid claim to be a
member of their own division ; there was nothing about them to
indicate their regiment and brigade; he might happen upon the
very one to which they belonged, and that, of course, would in-
crease the unpleasantness of the situation. He was completely
taken aback and had no answer ready.
“The-the Thirty-first New York,” he hazarded with some
hesitation.
“ Y O U ’re a
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and my pris-
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ful Confederate had sprung towards the two muskets, grasped
the bayoneted one, and before the Federal could turn towards
him, had run it twice through his body. The wounded man
fell heavily to the earth ; the second Federal, who had been re-
clining at ease beneath the hayrick, started to his feet as if to
make off. It would never do to leave an enemy in his rear, and
the Confederate, by a third thrust, laid the second Federal help-
less on the field. Dropping the musket as a useless encumbrance,
he started at full speed along the course he had been pursuing
when he was stopped by them.
The information they had unconsciously given, that they were

















176 A General’s Escape.
a mile and a half inside the Federal lines, was of considerable
service to him, as it enabled him to calculate very nearly the
position of his own command. Much time was lost in dodging the
Federal stragglers, who where pretty thick now, for the tide of
battle was again turning, bearing the Stars and Stripes back-
ward, and the Stars and Bars forward this time. It was more
than an hour before he regained his own command, not being
again halted by any of the Federals.
The two days of battle ended at night in a victory for the
Confederates. The next day, Gen. Pryor sent an aid to the
various hospitals in the neighborhood, to see if there was a man
wounded by one or two bayonet thrusts; for he was desirous of
knowing the fate of the two Federals. The aid returned with
the intelligence that one was in a certain building, and the brig-
adier, mounting his horse, rode over to see if it was the same
man. It proved to be the one who had taken the foremost part in
the conversation.
“Do you know me?”
“Yes, sir, I do,” replied the sufferer, with emphasis; “you’re
the man who stuck me. Who are you anyhow 7”
“Roger A. Pryor, of the Confederate Army.”
“Gen. Pryor? Oh, my good heavens, if I could only have
caught a brigadier l’’
£HAFTER XX
A PAIR OF FORA GERS.
They Want their Breakfast—How They Got it—A Traitorous Hostess—Pursued—
Close Quarters—A Narrow Escape—Detected—A Good Thing for the Com-
mand.
ATE in the fall of 1862 four companies of cavalry were de-
L tailed to carry ballot boxes to Smithfield, twenty-two
miles north of which place the main body was encamped. The
march was safely accomplished; the ballot boxes were placed in
the hands of the proper authorities; and, after a very short stay
at Smithfield, the guardians of the ballot box set out on their
return trip. By marching directly back, it was not, of course,
expected that they would reach camp that same night; but they
could bivouac in the open air—the weather was still, notwith-
standing the advancing season, extremely moderate—and they
would be in camp at a much earlier hour than if they did not
leave Smithfield until morning. A suitable place was selected
for the bivouac, and after discussing the uninviting rations with
the keen appetites which their long ride had given them, the men
wrapped themselves in their blankets and laid themselves around
the fires, to rest for the night.
But even hard tack and salt pork were not over plentiful, and
two adventurous troopers decided that they would have a break-
fast more palatable than their suppers had been ; so rising some
time before reveille, they mounted their horses, and, slipping past
the guards, made their way out of camp. After riding two or three
miles they came to a very comfortable looking farm-house, where
they concluded to make their demands. The family were already
stirring. Dismounting, they gave a rousing knock at the door.
“Good morning, madam,” said one of them to the woman who
177
178 A Pair of Foragers.
made her appearance in answer to this summons. “Can we get
breakfast here?”
“I reckon you can,” she replied, somewhat ungraciously; she
had no objection to breakfasting soldiers, but she preferred
those in gray uniforms. “I can’t give you a very nice breakfast,
she added, as they entered, “for I haven’t got it. The War in-
terferes with everything, it seems.”
“Just so it isn’t hard-tack and pickled mule,” was the reply.
In a few moments the meal was announced; and to the hungry
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The Mysterious Signals.
Rederals the fried bacon and eggs and rich corn-bread were a wel-
come relief from the monotony of camp-diet. They ate heartily
and without any thought of the danger that threatened them ;
for they were barely three miles from the famous Blackwater,
where a large force of Confederate cavalry, as they knew, had
been posted on the previous day. They finished their breakfast, -
and were quietly wending their way to the stables, whither their
horses had been taken for feeding, when they saw a somewhat
alarming sight. In the rear of the house, at some little distance,
there was swamp, covered with a thick growth of trees. At the

A Pair of Foragers. 179
back door of the house stood their hostess making mysterious
signals towards the pine woods.
“Rogers, do you see what she's doing?” asked one of the other.
“She’s carrying on some game, I guess,” replied Rogers;
“she looks like a witch trying to enchant us.”
The boy who had attended to the feeding of their horses had
by this time come too near them, as the performance of his duties
called him hither and thither, to permit them to speak without
being overheard ; so that the first speaker, who had looked
sharply about him, could only nudge his companion to call his
attention to another new-made discovery. At one point on the
edge of the pine thicket stood a Confederate; some little dis-
tance from him, in a spot where the woods appeared to recede
slightly, there was another. The first watched the house closely,
and evidently was looking for the signals made by the mistress of
the mansion ; a gesture noted, he would turn and repeat it to his
comrade, who in his turn would convey the meaning to some per-
Son or persons within the shelter of the woods.
The two Federals realized at once that they were being be-
trayed by their unwilling entertainer, who had been afraid to
refuse their request. There was not a moment to lose, and they
hurried on towards the stable, hoping to mount and ride away
in such haste that the Confederates would not have time to bring
up that larger force which was evidently within the shelter of
the woods. But they had hardly reached the building when
their ears were saluted by the crack of a rifle, followed by a yell
as blood-curdling as an Apache war-cry. They sprang into their
saddles; the horses, startled by the “Rebel yell,” needed no
spurring, but were off at once. Over fences, fallen trees and deep
trenches they went, neither horse nor rider caring much how
rough a road it might be. Now, and now again, came a shot
speeding after them; but their rough road served them well, for
not a ball hit.
They had nearly reached the boundary of the farm ; yonder
was the snake fence that separated it from the public road ; only
a few bounds more of their trusty steeds and they would be upon
the highway, and bound straight for camp. Once upon a good
road, their horses, they knew, would make good time, and could
easily distance the average cavalry horse. But the fence was
overgrown with vines, and in the corner grew high weeds—
withered now, but still thick enough to be an excellent shelter
12
180 A Pair of Foragers.
for the two Confederates who now started up directly in front
of them with a demand for their surrender.
The Federals, however, had no notion of being captured;
Rogers drew his sabre quick as thought, and at the first pass laid
upon the shoulder of the foremost Confederate. The other Fed-
eral, whose name has not becn recorded, unslung his carbine and
took hasty aim at the second Confederate, who was sighting his
own gun. The two reports seemed blended in one, but the Con-
federate's ball passed harmlessly onward, just grazing his oppo-
nent's cheek; the Federal’s, although more hastily aimed, went
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true home; it pierced the brain of the Southerner, who fell with-
out a groan on the dead grass at the roadside.
Hardly two minutes had been occupied in this little skirmish,
but even that short time was enough to enhance their danger.
Fast and furiously behind them came the clatter of hoofs; there
was a force of at least twenty in hot pursuit. The fence was
cleared; the two Federals set spurs to their horses and rode, if
•not for their lives, at least for their liberty. The chase was a
close one, and the Confederates, relying upon their superior num-
bers, did not fire a shot; preferring to take the two men alive.
Onward, onward, at their utmost speed, they rode; and stead-














































A Pair of Foragers. 181
ily, though slowly, the pursuers gained upon the pursued. They
were not fifty yards apart when the Federals saw they were
safe; yonder were the pickets. Rising in their saddles, they
turned partly around, and waving their caps, cheered defiantly.
The Confederates understood the meaning; they dared not ven-
ture nearer the camp ; and with a few parting shots, sent at ran-
dom, they wheeled their horses and returned to the shelter of
the pine woods.
The two Federals had hoped to slip into camp unobserved as
they had left it; but the condition of their horses told the tale
of hard riding and the colonel demanded to know where they
had been. Evade the question they could not, answer they
must. Hearing their story, the officer concluded that the more
rapidly the force moved on, the better, and gave orders accord-
ingly to proceed to the main camp by a road different from that
by which they had advanced. They had not proceeded three
miles before an attack was made on the advance guard. Learn-
ing from a prisoner that the Confederates had a large force, the
Federal commander gave the order to retreat; but hardly had
the retrograde movement begun when the rear was attacked by
nine hundred Confederate cavalry.
It was with difficulty that this force was kept at bay long
enough for the main body of the Federals to get out of range;
but the task was accomplished with but slight loss; for, if we
may believe the veracious historian, the nameless trooper who
took breakfast at the farmhouse, the Federals did not linger un-
necessarily on the road. Perhaps the Confederates had been
lying in wait for this force; but certainly they would not have
discovered so exactly and with so little trouble the camp and
the route of the Federals if it had not been for the two who pre-
ferred bacon and eggs and corn-bread to hard-tack and mess-pork.
£HAFTER XXI.
A SCOUT INTO ARKANSAS.
On the March—A Disappointment—As Good a Plan—The Unexpected Guests—
The Capture—Destruction of the Salt Works—The Prisoners—Return.
ATE in the year 1862, the Federals under Gen. Curtis’ com-
mand received information that in the White River coun-
try in Arkansas, there was a considerable force of Confederate
partisans, well provided with horses. The animals were much
needed by the United States troops, and the loss of them would
seriously cripple the Arkansans, it was hoped. Accordingly,
when Captain Milton Birch proposed to organize an expedition
to destroy this force and capture their horses, the proposition
was warmly received by the commandant of the post at Ozark,
Mo., and he was permitted to pick his men from the entire force
stationed there. The men were all members of the Missouri
State Militia, belonging to the Second Battalion of the Four-
teenth Cavalry. Forty men were selected from four different
companies, and on the morning of December 9th, 1862, the party
left Ozark for its southern trip. -
Thirty-five miles were made that first day, and the scouts
halted at Laurence’s Mill for the night. Forage was a neces-
sity, but it was a difficult matter to obtain it. The men, tired
with the long ride, could do nothing that night; and all the next
morning was consumed in obtaining the necessary supplies. But
the halt was not without its advantages. Capt. Birch learned
at the Mill that the Confederate Captain Mooney was encamped
at Tolbert’s Ferry on the White River, sixty miles away, with a
force of some seventy-five men. He had, on setting out, had but
general information of the whereabouts of the enemy, and this in-
telligence, therefore, was verygladly received. He determined to
*.
182
A. Scout into Arkansas. I83
attack the camp at the Ferry, although his force was so far infe-
rior; but as soon as this determination became known, several of
the officers at the Mill, with the men under their command, asked
and received the commandant's permission to accompany him.
It was with a force of one hundred men, then, that he rode away
at noon.
No time was lost on the way; and when the short winter day
drew to a close, they were twenty miles from Laurence’s Mill.
They bivouacked for the night, but early the next morning were
again in the saddle, to ride thirty-two miles before dusk. They
were now eight miles from the Confederate camp, and it was
judged prudent not to advance any further that night, wearied as
they were by the ride of eighty-seven miles. A dense forest,
near an out-of-the-way corn-field, was chosen as the camp-ground,
the trees affording the only shelter obtainable from the chilling
rain which was steadily coming down. Their rations would not
hold out long, and they endeavored to save them by parching
the corn which was brought in by the few foragers, and found,
still standing, in the corn-field mentioned.
But although the bivouac in the woods that rainy December
night was cheerless enough, it was at least an opportunity to rest,
and all could not enjoy it. A certain proportion must, of course,
be detailed for guard duty; and there was still another piece of
work for a small detachment. Lieut. Kelso was dispatched with
eight men, to the house of a Southern man, to search for Con-
federate pickets, whose presence was more than suspected. This
duty was soon performed, and the squad returned to camp with
two prisoners.
“Do you know where Tolbert's Ferry is ?” asked Captain
Birch of one of the prisoners. An affirmative answer was given.
“Captain Mooney is encamped there,” continued the Federal.
“He was encamped there,” replied the Confederate, “but his
company is disbanded for a time. 'Twont meet again for two or
three days. The men all wanted to go home and see their folks.”
This was unwelcome intelligence, for Birch had confidently
reckoned on finding Mooney and his men an easy prey; he de-
termined, therefore, to change his course, and make a dash upon
the Confederates at work at Saltpetre Cave, the other side of
White River, and some seven miles from Capt. Mooney’s resi-
dence. At this point the Confederate Government had estab-
lished works, at a cost of thirty thousand dollars, for the prep-
184 A Scout into Arkansas.
.*
aration of saltpetre ; and many of their powder mills were en-
tirely dependent upon this source of supply for this one ingre-
dient of gunpowder. The destruction of the works, then, would
be a valuable service to the United States.
When camping in the woods, he had not intended to pass the
night there, but only to rest for a few hours. At midnight the
order was given to mount, and in a few moments more they
were on their way. Their road lay through a country where
nearly every one of the few houses contained some member of
Capt. Mooney’s company, or at least a “Southern sympathizer.”
Eight of these were captured, one after another, by the advance
guard, and handed back for safe keeping to the main body. But
just before daybreak, they secured a much more valuable prize,
in the person of Lieut.-Col. Mings, who was recruiting for the
Confederate Army.
Winding around the hills in perfect silence, they reached Capt.
Mooney’s residence just at the dawn of the dark winter day. No
one was as yet stirring; the house was surrounded before the
presence of the Federals was suspected ; and Capt. Mooney, with
one of his men who chanced to be in the house, surrendered at
discretion. Fifteen stand of small arms were captured at the
same time; but as the Federals were well provided for in that
respect, and could not conveniently carry them, they were de-
stroyed. But eight horses, which the Confederates had captured
at Laurence’s Mill, were here retaken, and led off.
The main force remained at this point to feed their horses,
and to wait for a smaller detachment which had advanced by
different route. It was not long before they reached the ren-
dezvous, bringing with them four prisoners. This made seven-
teen men that had been captured; and as much of their success
would, perhaps, depend on their rapidity of movement, it was
decided to send them back to Laurence’s Mill under a sufficient es-
cort. Twenty-five men, under the command of an officer who
had joined the expedition at that point, were accordingly detail-
ed as escort, and arrangements were made for the advance of
the main body upon the saltpetre works.
They were on the opposite side of the river from the cave. It
was arranged that the attack should be a double one, from
two points at once; and to accomplish this purpose, Captain Salee,
with about half of the remaining force, was ordered to march
up the river and recross at a point nearly opposite the works;
A Scout into Arkansas. 185
while Captain Birch, with the other half, was to recross imme-
diately, and marching upon the works, give the signal for at-
tack to Capt. Salee, who was to conceal his men until the fight
had begun. These dispositions were made, because they sup-
posed that the number of Confederates at the cave would be suf-
ficient to protect the valuable and important works from any
such force as theirs, unless the Rebs were thrown into confusion
by being attacked in front and rear at once.
The precaution proved needless, for they outnumbered the
Confederates, three to one. Approaching the cave about noon,
their advance was perceived by the Confederates; but as the
latter were expecting to be reinforced by a company of cavalry,
they mistook the advancing column for their own men. They
were at dinner when Birch came in sight, and not imagining
that this was the enemy, remained thus engaged until the Fed-
erals were within half pistol shot. Captain Birch then ordered
them to surrender; and being so far outnumbered, they did so,
without firing a shot. Of the twenty-three prisoners, three
were so badly disabled as to be unfit for traveling, and were left
behind when the scouts pressed onward.
But they were not yet ready to go on. In the latter part of
the preceding month, a raiding force consisting of three regi-
ments of cavalry had made its way to Yellville, near which
Birch’s men now were, and destroyed the arsenal and many
stores there ; but had only slightly injured the saltpetre works.
These men had no mind to do their work in that way, and they
worked hard to prevent the Confederate Government from ever
again using the machinery prepared at such great expense. A
considerable quantity of saltpetre, amounting in value, accord-
ing to the Confederate who had been in command, to some six
thousand dollars, was in the last stage of preparation; purified
from the earths with which in its natural state, it is mixed, it
was beginning to crystallize, and in three days would be ready
for use. But this, of course, shared the fate of the machinery,
and was totally destroyed by the raiders.
But they were by no means disposed to wait for the reinforce-
ments for which the Confederates had mistaken them; for they
were encumbered with prisoners already, and had accomplished
all the real work possible. Accordingly, although it was now
night, preparations were made for the march. The two wagons
which were captured here were burned as they could not be
186 A Scout into Arkansas.
carried off. Four mules and three horses, however, were se-
cured; and the party, numbering, with the prisoners, nearly a
hundred men, set off towards Missouri again. They had been on
the march since midnight, and it was now past sunset; they had
hardly time to eat, and but little to eat had they had the time;
and to add to their discomfort, the rain fell, steadily, drearily,
as it falls in no other season of the year. Wet to the skin, while
every breath of air seemed to chill them to the very marrow,
they rode on uncomplainingly all night long. Rest, they knew,
would come in a little while.
Ozark was reached in safety on the fifteenth of the month, the
seventh day from their departure, no event but the picking up
of a few prisoners having occurred on the way. During the week
that the force was absent from Ozark, they had ridden two hun-
dred and twenty-five miles, captured forty stand of small arms,
forty-two prisoners, four mules and twelve horses; and destroy-
ed nearly thirty-six thousand dollars’ worth of property belong-
ing to the Confederate States Government, and not a man was
killed or wounded.
The officers and privates who took part in this expedition
were very highly commended by Gen. Curtis for the cheerful-
ness with which they endured the attendant hardships, and the
skill with which they accomplished the objects of the expedi-
tion without the sacrifice of any of their number.
# * £HAFTER XXII.
RESCUING A COMFAIDE.
Infantry Curiosity—Cavalry Disgust—Moral of the Story—Attack on the Train—
The Charge—Repulsed—Harper's Perilous Position—A Generous Offer—A
Warm Meeting—Safe—A Close Shave—A Frank Confession—A Second
Charge, and its Result.
HE story goes, that some twenty odd years ago, or there-
abouts, a Confederate trooper was hailed by a lounging
infantryman with :
“Mister, did you ever see a Yankee ?”
The cavalryman, somewhat affronted at the question, answer-
ed curtly in the affirmative. *
“Did he have on a blue coat?” continued the questioner,
drawlingly.
“Yes,” was the reply, still shorter.
“Did you stop to look at him 7” was the next query, doubtful
in tone.
“Yes,” with something that sounded suspiciously like an oath.
The first soldier's face expressed the most affectionate interest
as he slowly drew himself up with a deep breath of surprise, and
drawled out :
“Mister, will you please tell me if your spurs were broke or
your horse was lame? Which was it?”
We regret to say that the trooper's reply is not on record;
although the regret is somewhat tempered by the reflection that
perhaps it was not altogether fit for “ears polite.” But incom-
plete as it is, the story shows the estimation in which the in-
fantry too often held the cavalry. The bulk of the fighting was
done by the former, as they justly claimed; but they forgot that
there was something to be done besides fighting great battles;
187
188
Rescuing a Comrade. ,
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Rescuing a Comrade. . 189
they must be won; and in order to win them, sleepless vigilance
on the part of the much despised cavalry was necessary. Much
of the depreciation, of course, arose from jealousy of the troop-
er's easier way of getting over the ground in a long march; the
remainder originated in the feeling we have already described.
Of course, in a collection of such stories of adventure as the
present, the services of the cavalry are not likely to be viewed
with an infantry critic's eye; indeed, the mounted men had so
much greater opportunity for seeing service that included dar-
ing attempts and hairbreadth escapes, that their importance is
apt to appear overrated. The cavalry is the comet that flashes
across the sky, the wonder and admiration of all while it lasts;
while the infantry may be compared to the stars that shine stead-
ily all the time, whether there are comets or not. At the very
mention of the word cavalry, however, what stirring pictures
throng the brain The clank of sabre and spur, the sound of
hoofs along the hard road, are the overture to the play; the cur-
tain rises, and we see upon the stage the forms of Sheridan and
Stuart, of Custer and Wheeler, often apparently assuming ro-
mantic shapes of knights of the olden days of chivalry
But to leave fancy, and come down to history; not the grave
and solemn lady who presides over the pages of Rollin and
Gibbon and Dryasdust, but the genial creature who, in the guise
of an old soldier, sits by our fireside, with interminable stories
of what happened to him and his comrades during “the War.”
“And, tales of sorrow done, -
Shoulders his crutch and shows how fields were won.”
It was during the progress of the battle known by the name of
Stone River or Murfreesboro’, commencing December 31, 1862,
and lasting five days; an action which ended most disastrously
for the Confederates, who were compelled to evacuate the city
from which the battle has taken one of its names. But before the
result was yet decided, while the fate of the armies still hung in
the balance, Gen. Wheeler was sent to the rear of the Federal
forces, to annoy them by attacks upon their wagon trains. A
long train was at Lavergne, and upon this he intended to make
a furious assault. Unfortunately for his plans, however, his
presence in the vicinity was ascertained, and his purpose sus-
pected by the Federal general, who immediately ordered the
usual guard of the train to be reinforced by a considerable body
of infantry. No time was lost in preparing for defense, and when
190 Rescuing a Comrade.
the Confederates came up they found the wagons corraled, and
the blue-coated infantry ready for business.
Wheeler, however, was determined to have those wagons for
the materials for a bonfire; his men were equally determined.
When, therefore, they received the order to charge and capture
the wagons, there was no hesitation, no hanging back. Not a
man had straggled on the way, and the whole command dashed
over the uneven ground like so many birds on the wing. But, as
often happened during the War, courage upon the one side was
of no avail, because met by equal courage on the other. The
great American eagle may carry a lamb to its eyrie, but it would
probably find a buffalo somewhat unmanageable. Such was the
state of affairs at Lavergne, this January day in 1863. The Con-
federates charged bravely enough, but the Federals stood their
ground, and repulsed the charge. It seemed like the old co-
nundrum—“If an irresistible body strike an immovable body,
which will give way ?” Cavalry cannot fight at a stand, as in-
fantry can; it must either advance or retreat; and in this case,
being unable to do the former, it did the latter, retiring a short
distance to re-collect its strength for a second assault.
When the cavalry was within thirty paces of the énemy, one
of them, Joe Harper by name, but better known in the command
as Wisham, lost his horse by one of the misfortunes of war. As
his comrades rode back, he was of course left behind, and in a
most dangerous position, exposed to the full fire of the enemy.
But no matter how brave a man may be, when he knows that he
is the mark for forty or fifty carbines at the distance of thirty
paces, his instinct leads him to find a shelter; Harper’s position
was even worse than the case we have stated, for many more
pieces were aimed in his direction. Hardly had his horse roll-
ed to the ground, then, before he realized the situation, and had
decided upon his course of action. There was a small tree near
by, and behind that he sprang for shelter. This, however, did
not make matters much better; it was literally a checkmate, for
he could not move without being taken, not by knight or castle,
but by one of the innumerable bullets that might be called pawns.
The keen-eyed Federals had seen his efforts to shelter him-
self, and were now peppering the tree with shot. The trunk
was barely large enough to conceal his body from view; the
slightest swerving to either side exposed him to their sight.
Nothing could be hoped, of course, from the branches, which in
Rescuing a Comrade. I91
summer time might have concealed him yet more effectually ; the
only indication he had that there were really limbs to the tree
was the occasional crack and fall of a bough as a bullet struck it.
The trunk of the tree was soon deeply indented in many places
by the balls which had buried themselves in the wood ; how soon
one might penctrate to him, he could not tell. Yet, as time went
on, and a fresh volley came past every few seconds, he could
see no chance of escape; indeed, as he thought it over, the prob-
abilities of such an ending grew “small by degrees and beauti-
fully less.” Doubtful visions of Northern prisons danced before
his eyes as the bullets whistled by.
When we spell out, slowly and painfully, in our school-days,
the classical stories of friendship, we think it wonderful that
men should entertain so much affection for each other; but then
that was two or three thousand years ago. Has the world, has
human nature changed since 7 “Greater love hath no man than
this, that he lay down his life for his friend;” and sometimes,
amid all the horrors of warfare, the worst of all strifes—a civil
war, when the ties of blood are forgotten, when brother is pitted
against brother, father against son—we see beautiful instances
of a “love passing that of woman * shining out from the dark
and bloody background. In recalling the friendship of Orestes
and Pylades, of Damon and Pythias, of David and Jonathan, we
have not wandered far from the cavalryman sheltered behind
that lonely tree at Lavergne, with the enemy’s bullets whistling
around him.
A friend and messmate, familiarly known as “Tom’” Gan, or
more familiarly still, as “Heck,” was among the troopers who
had retreated. He saw the peril of his friend, and instantly re-
solved to do all he could to save him. True, the man in danger
might be secure when the whole Confederate line advanced, but
Heck did not know when that would be, and had no mind to
wait for that time.
“Hello, Wisham P’ he called, from his place in the group of
troopers.
“Hello, Heck l’” came the answer, somewhat dolefully, from
the tree.
“If I come to you, will you meet me?”
“I will,” came the answer, with as much emphasis as the dis-
tance would permit.
It must be remembered that this one tree was the only shelter
192 Rescuing a Comrade.
between the Confederates and the Federals, that the former were
barely out of range, and that Gan would have to ride nearly the
whole distance exposed to the guns of the entire force of Feder-
als. The volleys, he knew would come with hardly any inter-
mission, for the Boys in Blue were armed with those repeating
carbines which one observing Reb had characterized as “them
guns you load on Sunday and fire all the week.” But the gal-
lant Tennesseean thought only of saving his friend ; and putting
spurs to his horse, dashed forward.
No sooner was his intention to leave the ranks perceived by
the enemy than the carbines were leveled, and a perfect storm
of shot greeted his advance. It could hardly be called “Hail to
the chief who in triumph advances,” because he was not a chief
—“only a private ’’—but the bullets certainly came like hail, or
rain, or anything else of the kind you please. When the Feds
saw what the whole plan was, as they did when Wisham left the
shelter of his tree, they divided their attentions pretty evenly
between the two ; certainly, neither had reason to complain of
being neglected.
Upon leaving his post of vantage behind the tree-trunk,
Wisham took a zigzag course, in order that he might the more
surely avoid these messengers from the enemy; but Gan rode
straight onward, trusting in the speed of his horse to carry him
safely through to his friend.
Wisham had run fully one hundred yards, measured in a
straight line, before he met his friend and rescuer ; both being
meanwhile exposed to the fire of the enemy, but neither having
been hit. Then ensued a scene which, for the activity and strength
displayed, might have graced a tournament. As Gan, with one
hand upon the rein, wheeled his horse, he extended the other to
Harper; and before the animal’s head was once more towards
the Confederate line, the latter had, with the slight help of his
friend’s hand, swung himself up behind the saddle. There was
not even a momentary halt required for this action; and they
had hardly met before they were galloping at full speed to
their friends.
As the success of the daring attempt became evident, there
was intense excitement among the Confederates, and cheer after
cheer went up—not the wild “Rebel yell” which was Stonewall
Jackson's favorite music, but deep and hearty cheers. Mean-
while, the Federals did not relax their attentions, but continued
Rescuing a Comrade. - 193
to waste powder and shot upon the two friends, who seemed to
bear the charmed lives which, in the old classical days, they would
have been said to possess. Thus they reached their friends, and
Wisham was speedily provided with a horse; for though he had
been endangered by the loss of his steed, many of his comrades
had been less fortunate; their horses had returned with the re-
pulsed cavalry, riderless. Riding up alongside of Gan, after
the first wave of gratitude had somewhat subsided, he said:
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“Heck, old boy, that was a close shave, wasn’t it 7”
“Yes, Wisham,” answered Heck, soberly, “it was a mighty
close shave.” .
A moment was passed in silence, and then Heck asked:
“What’s the matter, Wisham What makes you so quiet?”
“I was just thinking of my feelings when we were both on that
horse, with the Yanks peppering us.”
“IIow'd you feel ? Scared 7”
“Well I don’t know if you’d call it scared or not; but I just
felt like, without wishing you any harm, I’d like mighty well to
bo the one in the saddle with some other fellow behind.”




































£Harrºr XXIII.
SECEET SERVICE.
A Mysterious Order—The Man Needed—Explanation of the Order—Disappear-
anee of the Soldier—Sudden Appearance of the Quaker—Interviewing the
Picket—Distributing Tracts and Examining Fortifications—An Innocent Note
—With Much Meaning—An Unlucky Meeting—The Quaker Disappears—
The Rind of Tracts He Meant—Suspicions Verified—News to Gen. Bragg—A
Fine Old Country Gentleman—And Equally Fine Old Whisky—Gen. Bragg's
Intentions—Tom Sees the Joke—Delay—Dangerous Proximity—Allaying Sus-
picions—A Narrow Escape—A Second Mysterious Order.
GENERAL ORDERs, No. — —.
Captain Carter, —th Indiana Volunteers, is hereby relieved from his
eommand indefinitely, and will report at these headquarters immediately.
By order of Maj.-Gen. Rosecrans.
LIEUT.-Col. C. GoDDARD, A. A. G.”
UCH was the order read to the Indiana regiment above
mentioned, on dress parade, one day in January, 1863.
No one could tell what it meant; on the face of it, it implied dis-
grace, or censure at least; yet in what had punishment been de-
served by the gallant officer so frequently praised by his supe-
riors, so highly esteemed by his brother officers, so idolized by
his men 7 As the soldiers returned to their quarters, all were
busily conjecturing the reason for issuing such an order; Cap-
tain Carter in as much perplexity as any one. He went to his
tent, however, and putting off his accoutrements, set out for
headquarters.
These were in a private mansion in what had been the most
aristocratic part of Murfreesboro; but many of the inhabitants
had deserted their residences at the approach of the Federal
army; so that it was through a wilderness of houses, either un-
occupied or filled with the soldiery, that our gallant captain
194
Secret Service. 195
took his way. Stopping before one of those Bubstantial brick
double houses, with a piazza running along the whoſe front, up-
stairs and down, that always appears the embodiment of solid
comfort, he made his way, duly announced by the orderly, to a
room in the Second story, whose French windows opened on the
piazza. Before the blazing fire sat an officer in undress unj-
form, whose rank was indicated only by the buttons of his coat
being grouped in threes. As Captain Carter was announced,
this officer arose, and advancing with a pleasant smile that dissi-
pated all the anxiety of the subordinate, said :
“This is Capt. Carter, of the –th Indiana Volunteers ?”
“It is, sir.”
“You received orders this evening to report immediately 7”
“Yes, sir, and I have done so.”
“Sit down, sir. You see, I have for some time been in want
of a man possessed of certain qualities that would render him fit
for a very important service. Courage is needed, but that is not
all; many a man in the army would do. There must be a con-
siderable degree of judgment and at the same time rapidity of
thought and combination. Gen. Thomas has been on the out-
look for some one possessing these qualities, and has selected
you for the purpose. I need not say that I have every con-
fidence in Gen. Thomas' judgment. It will be a mission of some
danger and difficulty—will you undertake it?”
“I will do anything to further the cause of which I am a sworn
soldier. It is connected with the secret service, I suppose, sir?”
“Yes. Please make your arrangements for remaining here
to-night, sending to your quarters for anything you may need.
Do so now, and then I will give you the full details of the plan
which I wish you to execute.” -
When Capt. Carter, whose black servant had accompanied
him to headquarters, had made all the arrangements indicated
by the general, he again reported for instructions. The general
was seated before a large table, on which was spread a map of
the surrounding country.
“You see, Captain Carter, the two armies form nearly a semi-
circle. The Rebel right is at Hartsville, here on the Cumber-
land, above Nashville, and the left rests on the shoals below.
Gen. Bragg’s headquarters are at Tullahoma and Gen. Van Dorn
is at Spring Hill. I want you to go to Van Dorn's headquar-
ters first, then to Bragg’s, and ascertain the numbers, arms,
13
196 * . . Secret Service.
fortifications, efficiency and probable movements of their troops.”
Such was the brief outline of his duty, illustrated, as the gen-
eral spoke, by the use of the map. After making sure that the
main points of the expedition were clear in the mind of his lis-
tener, he proceeded to give various minute directions, and at a
late hour, dismissed him, with instructions to set out early in the
morning. -
“But let me impress upon you, Captain, the necessity for ex-
treme caution ; not only among persons whom we would nat-
urally suspect, but even among friends. Hold no communica-
tion whatever with any one in camp regarding this expedition.
Much of the efficiency of the secret service is lost, if those com-
posing it are known. Is your servant entirely reliable?”
“Perfectly, sir; he is devoted to me. You need have no fears
as to him.”
“Then he had better, as we arranged at first, accompany you;
that plan, besides, would keep him from talking to his fellows
during your absence, if he were so disposed.”
It was a day or so after that, and Captain Carter had not been
seen about camp since the mysterious order was issued. For all
that his men knew, the commanding general might have had
him served up for supper, so completely had he disappeared
from his usual haunts. But riding leisurely along from a cer-
tain staunch Union man’s house near town, there were two men,
in one of whom a keen observer might have detected some faint
resemblance to the man who had disappeared; though the dif.
ference in dress and manner and age were sufficient to reassure
the most suspicious. -
This was a man clad in the quaint garb of a Quaker, and seem-
ingly, from the peaceful expression of his countenance, intent
on anything but war. His grizzled locks were longer than usu-
ally seen, certainly much longer than Capt. Carter’s dark hair,
and though the close-buttoned vest had something of a resem-
blance, in that respect, to a military coat, its hue was sufficient
to allay distrust. His servant or companion, whichever the
Society might have been pleased to call him, seemed a shadow
of himself; so exactly did the demure peacefulness of the dusky
face imitate the expression of the fairer one, so exactly was his
dress patterned after that of the white man. “A merciful man
is merciful to his beast,” and the animals which the two Quakers
bestrode certainly illustrated this; that of the white man was a
Secret Service. 197
spirited bay that, possessed by a more worldly man, might have
made an enviable record on the race-track; and that of the ne-
gro, though a stouter, heavier animal of less speed, was the
very model of a well-kept, stout roadster. The pair rode sedately
onward, until challenged by a vidette of the Confederates.
“ Halt who comes there 7”
“Friends we claim to be to all. Is thee a man of war?”
“Nary ship, nor sailor neither.”
“Isn’t thee one of the fighting men of the South 7”
“Well, I rather reckon so, if that’s what you mean. What do
you want, Broadbrim 7” -
“Does thee know another man of war, called Van Dorn?”
“I reckon I do,” replied the soldier emphatically, and smiling
at the simplicity of the Quaker's speech; “but you’d better be
careful how you talk that way about him. The old cuss is apt to
be a little particular about having his handle to his name.”
“Iscarcely understand thee, friend, but thy face appears friend-
ly and inclined to peace to me and mine. Can thee direct me to
the place where friend Van Dorn tarrieth at this present?”
“Headquarters ? O yes; let me just call the Corporal of the
Guard.” - -
That officer being duly summoned, the innocent old Quaker
and his dusky attendant were duly directed to the general’s
headquarters, and were soon on their way thither.
“Well?” asked Gen. Van Dorn, raising his eyes from the
maps and charts over which he had been bending, as his orderly
entered the room.
“There's an old Quaker gentleman out there, General, who
says he has urgent business with you.”
“Show him in.”
The Quaker was ushered into the apartment.
“Thee is the friend Wan-Dorn that is called General 7”
“What is your business with me, sir?”
“Unworthy vessel as I am to be made of such importance, I
am the one chosen by the Society of which I am an humble mem-
ber to disseminate spiritual comfort and counsel among the mis-
guided men who are gathered around thee, to slay their breth-
ren.”
“Humph!” ejaculated the soldier; with as much fierceness as
could be thrown into that simple sound.
“Notwithstanding the fact that they have taken deadly weap-
* ------
198 - Secret Service.
ons into their hands, they have not been so sinful in so doing
as these same brethen who have begun the contest and have in-
Vaded the South; whereas the men of the South would be con-
tent to live in peace if the men of the North would but return to
their homes.”
“Humph ſ” a little more mildly.
“Nevertheless, it is sinful for them so to resist even oppression,
inasmuch as all men are commanded to live in peace and brother-
hood; but they are fellow-creatures, and we would not willingly
see them led forth to slaugh-
ter without some effort to
comfort and strengthen their
spirits.”
“What is it you want, Sir 7”
asked the general, his eyes
turning towards his maps
again.
“Permission to distributo
among the men that follow
thee such tracts and other
matters of the kind as I or my
friends may have been able to
§ purchase or otherwise pro-
trl Van Dorn. Cure.”
Gen. Ed
“Have you any letters of introduction ?”
“Yea, verily, for I had heard that thee was a man of blood,
and did not readily believe thy fellow-men ; fearing that having
taken the sword, thee should perish by the sword.”
“Let me see them, please.”
The Quaker produced a formidable packet and delivered it to
the soldier; who, finding the writers as prolix as the speaker,
glanced over one or two, and turned to his desk.
“What is your name 7” -
“Ezra Thurston.”
“Well, Mr. Thurston, here is a pass which will enable you to
come and go at will, with any supplies you may wish to bring
into camp. “ -
As the Quaker left the room, the general’s face relaxed into a
smile at the character of the visitor; but he soon settled himself
to his papers again, dismissing the whole matter from his mind
as unworthy of further thought. The Quaker, for the present
*- §3%
S


Secret Service. 199
at least, had no need to make use of the pass, for in his saddle-
bags and capacious pockets were stored a goodly quantity of
tracts and religious papers. He made his way about the camp,
with a pleasant word for all; a gentle rebuke for the curses that
fell upon his ear, although it must be acknowledged that these
were but few ; for roughened as they were by the soldier-life,
the men, looking at him with a sort of good-humored smile, for
the most part spoke as they might have spoken in the presence
of a little child.
Ezra Thurston certainly did not
slight his work; not only
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-- Van Dorn and the Quaker.
among the well, but among the sick and wounded, he took his
way, followed faithfully by his sable companion. He seemed
specially anxious that no part of the camp should miss his
friendly ministrations, and trudged patiently about the forts
and fortifications to insure that none should be neglected. Nor
were his offices purely spiritual ; for one wounded man he wrote
a letter, for which the overtaxed nurse could not find time; to
another impecunious individual he gave money; bestowing such
petty favors where he saw that they were desired, until the sol-
diers were ready to swear he was a regular brick, had he not
gently checked them with the injunction:
“‘Swear not at all,’ friend.”























200 ‘. - Secret Service.
So the day passed on ; evening was approaching, and the
day’s work was done. Friend Thurston had seated himself in a
retired angle of the fortifications to note in his substantial mem-
erandum book the quantity of religious reading matter of vari-
ous kinds, which he could distribute to advantage among the sol-
diers. Some of the articles, to be sure, were rather indicative
of bodily than spiritual comforts, but, as we have seen, his min-
istrations were practical. This was what he wrote: -
“2 overcoats and 6 hats; 37 shirts; 3,200 tracts—2,000 for
the unconverted, at Spring Hill.”
Strangely enough, Gen. Rosecrans, to whom Capt. Carter’s
colored servant delivered this, shortly afterward, read it thus:
“Two forts of six guns each ; thirty-seven additional guns;
three thousand two hundred troops, two thousand of which are
cavalry, at Spring Hill.” -
But to go back to the Confederate camp. The Quaker, Ezra
Thurston, was busily making that innocent memorandum which
was to be so strangely perverted, when a soldier, whose uniform
and decorations denoted that he held the rank of lieutenant,
came towards him. The usual greetings were exchanged, in the
bluff, hearty tone of the soldier, and the even, peaceful one of
the man of peace.
“I think I have met you before this, sir, haven't I?”
“It can hardly be so, friend; I lead a secluded life among the
members of the Society, and rarely mingle with the world.”
“Haven’t you been in camp before, sir? Maybe I saw you
then.” - - -
“Nay, friend, this is the first time that duty has called me to
the dwelling of the men of blood. Thee must have known some
one whose face or bearing resembled mine.”
“Well, I reckon that must be it; I beg your pardon, sir.”
“Thy error hath given no offense, nor hath it done me injury,
friend; therefore it needs no pardon,” answered the Quaker.
The soldier turned away with a puzzled look upon his face;
this man’s appearance was so familiar, he felt sure that they
must have met before ; yet there was something so strangely in-
congruous between the old and the new image in his mind that
he could hardly reconcile them. Thus endeavoring to decide
whether or not the Quaker had spoken the truth, he strode away
to his quarters. x
“Massa, we’d better be trablin', shuah; dat man didn’t half-
Secret Service. - 201
way belieb you, sah. Dis place gettin’ too hot, shuah.”
“No, I don’t think he did quite believe me, and no wonder.
I remember well enough. I took him prisoner at Stone river,
but he got away again. I’m done, now ; we’ll go right away.”
Returning his memorandum book to his pocket, they sought
out their horses, and mounting, rode away; Gen. Van Dorn's pass
answering all objections which the sentinels might have been
prepared to raise. They rode swiftly onward as long as there
was no house in sight, slackening their speed and trotting gent-
ly where there were signs that they were approaching a resi-
dence. It was nearly dark when they reached a point where a
road that was little more than a bridle-path through the woods
joined the pike. Turning their horses’ heads to pursue this by-
way, they were soon lost to view among the trees. Once out
of sight of the main road, the natural order of traveling was re-
versed, the servant leading the way, the master following, for
they were tolerably sure that if danger should threaten them, it
would come from the rear.
They had traveled but a little distance in this manner when
they came to the edge of a clearing, in which a log-house was
situated. Arrived at this point, Capt. Carter (for we may now
drop the assumed name and character of Ezra Thurston, the
Quaker missionary) halted, while Tom, dismounting, went for-
ward to reconnoiter; having previously exchanged the outer
garments of the demure cut for others better suited to his gen-
uine character. Advancing into the clearing, he paused every
moment, almost, to peer cautiously around him ; but at last was
so well satisfied that all was as he wished it, that he threw a
small chip against the window-pane. In response to this signal,
which had been previously arranged, the door opened and a
man, issuing from it, came through the darkness directly to-
wards the spot where Tom stood.
“It’s all safe,” he said ; “where's Captain Carter?”
“He’s jist back in de woods a little piece. Is it all right,
sah 7”
“Yes, I tell you there’s nothing at all wrong. Go call him.”
Tom trotted off obediently, and the two were soon safely
housed, warmed and fed. The night having passed, the colored
man set off on his errand to Murfreesboro, it being nothing else
but the delivery of the Quaker's memorandum to Gen. Rose-
crans. Whether or not the unconverted at Spring Hill ever re-
202 Secret Service.
ceived the two thousand tracts which Friend Thurston desired
for them, history does not, in so many words relate ; but the
present writer leans to the opinion that tracts of land, seven by
two, or perhaps a few larger ones in joint ownership, were what
he really meant to give them.
Tom returned in good time, and once more changing their
clothes, the two again set out. This time, Capt. Carter appear-
ed to be a planter of some means, and accustomed (to judge by
his rubicund face) to high living and hard drinking; attended,
of course, by his negro servant, who was carefully costumed for
his present role. The adoption of this second disguise, so total-
ly different from the first, which had been successful, will at
first sight appear a superfluous caution ; but although it had
been provided long before the Confederate lieutenant half-rec-
ognized the Quaker, the sequel proved that it was well that they
had done so. As has been said, the Reb was not more than half
satisfied with the assurances of Thurston, and went to his quar-
ters trying to recall the circumstances under which he had seen
that face before. Again and again he tried to accept the Quak-
er’s words as true, but always failed. Half an hour, perhaps
more, was passed thus, when suddenly it flashed across his mind,
and he sprang to his feet with the words:
“It’s the Yank that captured me at Stone River!”
It may well be believed that he lost no time in communicating
his suspicions, or rather, knowledge, to Gen. Van Dorn. It was
of course, at once apparent the guileless Quaker was a spy in
the employ of the Federal general, and every effort must be
made to prevent his return to that officer. The lieutenant who
had made the discovery was dispatched with a force to scourthe
woods to intercept the flight of the fugitives, for, as will be re-
membered, they had left the camp as soon as they perceived the
approach of danger. Thus the Confederates had lost, and the
Federals had gained valuable time, which the latter had been
enabled, by the excellence of their horses, to improve to the ut-
most. They had been so far favored by the delay as to have
reached the clearing when the pursuers set out. But Van Dorn
had calculated on not catching the spies, and had dispatched a
courier with a note to Gen. Bragg, warning him of the pretend-
ed Quaker’s real character.
Gen. Bragg had received this note and given the necessary
orders for the course to be pursued in case such a person were
Secret Service. :* 203
found about the camp, and had dismissed the whole affair from
his mind until he should have attended to certain other matters
of immediate importance, when “Col. Ashcroft” was announced
as wishing earnestly to see him. The orderly was directed to
admit him, and Capt. Carter was ushered into the apartment.
“I live near Brandyville, General,” the new-comer explained
after the usual salutations had been interchanged; “and came
down to see if you couldn’t do something for us; the Feds are
worrying us nearly to death up there.”
“Indeed! In what way ?” inquired the general, with sympa-
thetic concern for the story so often heard.
“Why, they drive off our horses and cattle, and carry off
every bushel of grain they can find. Then their accursed foraging,
as they call it, is nothing more than theft, sir, theft. Eggs, and
chickens, and butter, and honey, and vegetables, and fruits—
everything of that kind they carry away.”
“Excuse me, sir, if I ask your name again ; the orderly does
not always speak distinctly.”
“Ashcroft, sir.”
“Ah, I have heard of you and your family in very favorable
terms, sir. I shall be glad to do all in my power to protect so
loyal a citizen.”
“Yes, sir. I am loyal, and always expect to be so.” [The
truth, Captain Carter, but Gen. Bragg did not understand your
emphatic assertion.] “We’ve tried to do our duty by the Con-
federacy, sir, and you’re welcome to the little we have left, if you
take the last bushel of grain and carry it off on the back of the
last mule; but we’re good Secessionists and don’t want the
d—d Yanks to be living off of us.”
“Certainly, sir; I will see what can be done;-and, believe me,
I will make every effort to protect you and your property from
the Yanks. But you have come some distance, haven’t you? I
am sorry I have nothing better than this whisky to offer you—
maybe when Semmes has swept the seas, Cognac will be obtain-
able once more. The French are as friendly to us, nearly, as
the British.”
“You decry your whisky without cause, General, for, allow-
ing for its age, which isn’t very great, it is not bad. But allow
me to send to my portmanteau for a bottle of fine old Bordeaux
I have there—imported before the war. It’s not only old, but
it was good to begin with ; but it will speak for itself—good
204 Secret Service.
wine, you know, needs no bush. I want you to try it, General.”
The colored servant soon returned with the bottle.
“It is, indeed, one of the best wines I ever drank,” said the
General, as he sipped the rare wine.” Let me pledge you, Colo-
nél—here's to your freedom from annoyance from the Yankees.”
“And here's to your army, General; may it find plenty left
when it comes to drive away the Feds.”
“That would be but a poor return, Colonel, for your loyalty,”
the general answered, langhing.
“It isn’t the value of the things that worries me, General, it’s
the idea of the d d Yankees getting it. I sent a hundred
bushels of meal to Gen. Wheeler as a gift, the other day, just to
keep the confounded Feds from getting it.”
“By the way, Colonel, did you see anything of a Quaker on
the road this morning 7”
“With a bundle of tracts? Mr., or rather Friend, Thurston,
he calls himself, I believe; with a nigger servant?”
“I don’t know his name, but that is the one I mean. He’s a
spy.”
“A Yankee spy ſ” -
“Exactly,” replied the officer, smiling at his visitor’s angry
surprise.
“The devil I gave him and his darkey their suppers last
night. If I'd known who he was, I’d—I’d——”
Words failed him, or appeared to do so; while the general
answered, reassuringly :
“Well, Colonel, never mind. We can’t help being taken in
some time; he deceived even Gen. Van Dorn, who is pretty apt to
have his wits about him. Why, he might have deceived me—I
don’t say he would, but he might have done it. But we’ll catch
him, yet. In fact, we must do it, for he has some valuable in-
formation. I’m going to make a feint on the enemy’s flanks to-
morrow with my cavalry, and hope to get him that way. Any-
how, we’ll soon have that cunning old Dutchman, Rosecrans.
I’m expecting some Georgia and Alabama troops in a few days.”
“Well, General, I can’t tell you how much I hope for your
success. Don’t leave one of the d d mudsills on our soil—it's
every whit as sacred as that of Virginia—the soil of the whole
Confederacy is. But it’s getting late, and I want to try and get
some supplies before I start home. Will you be kind enough to
give me a pass 7” *
Secret Service. - 205
“Certainly ; and a bill of protection for your person and
property; we’ll leave you whatever you have, so you can give it
voluntarily, you see,” the soldier replied, in a jocular manner.
“I am sure your kindness—”
“No thanks, my friend; I have not deserved them. It
wouldn’t speak well for the Confederacy if her soldiers did not
protect and help those who befriend them. Good-night.”
The “planter’ mounted his horse, and followed by his trusty
darkey, made his way out of camp. They were scarcely out of
earshot of the last picket, when Tom, unable to contain himself
any longer, burst out:
“Golly for Moses, Massa, but you been right in de middle ob
de fire talkin’ to de ole debbil hisself. Don’t see how you done
it.”
And Tom showed all his teeth, as a proof that he had enjoyed
to the full the little comedy which we have just described.
“Don’t talk so loud, Tom; there might be some one lurking
around. We’ve done now, and we’ll take a straight shoot up
Hoover's gap and get to camp as soon as we can.” -
“Heard de Cunnel say dars a regiment just gwine up de Man-
chester road toward Hoober's Gap; dey gwine to ketch dat
damned Quaker spy, dey say.” And Tom grinned again, roll-
ing up his eyes until nothing could be seen but the whites.
“Then we'll take the Shelbyville road, and run the risk of
meeting Van Dorn. It’s the best we can do.” -
They rode on for some distance, when Captain Carter's horse
became frightened at some trifling circumstance, and in spite of
all the efforts of his rider grew quite unmanageable. Rearing
and plunging, he scorned the control of bit and bridle. Behold
our gallant captain, then, laid sprawling upon the road, while
Tom did his best to capture the frightened animal; since their
safety might depend, before they got back to camp, upon the
swiftness with which they could go.
“Is you hurt, massa?”
“Not much, Tom, I believe. I fell on my right shoulder pret-
ty heavily, but I don’t think there are any bones broken. I wish
you’d go to that house at the top of the hill and ask them if they
can keep us over night. I can’t go on now, but Ithink I can in
the morning.” -
Tom was off in an instant, and speedily returned to conduct
his master to the shelter which had been cordially granted. His
* 206 Secret Service.
wº
hostess (for, as usual in war times, there were no men about the
house) bathed his shoulder and prepared him a bed by the fire.
FIow long he slept among her soft blankets and downy pillows
he did not know; but it seemed only a moment before he was
awakened by the noise of horses’ hoofs in the yard below. A call
aroused the people of the house, and a conversation ensued of
which he could only catch such fragments as:
“Gen. Van Dorn—stay here to-night—give us beds—to-morrow
morning—.”
The reply was in so low a tone that he heard only an indistinct
murmur that gave him no clue as to whether this was Gen. Van
Dorn himself, or whether he was to be expected. He knew, how-
ever, that he was in very great danger, for if these were a por-
tion of Van Dorn's command sent out to seek for the Quaker, he
might be recognized, in spite of his second disguise. But whether
Van Dorn were here, or had sent his soldiers to look for him, or
these were a portion of another command, he resolved to trust
to luck, and stay where he was. Fortune favors the brave, and .
it certainly was propitious in this case.
“Just walk into this room, sir, if you please; supper will be
ready in a short time.”
And the lady ushered him into the room where our bruised and
battered hero lay. Reconnoitering through his half closed eye-
lids, the Federal saw that the new comer's uniform was liberally
bedizened with gilt buttons and gold lace, the ornaments being
arranged so as to indicate that the wearer held the rank of lieu-
tenant-general in the Confederate army. Who it was, he could
not tell; certainly—and he breathed more freely—not Wan Dorn
or Bragg. -
“The gentleman on the sofa was thrown from his horse a short
distance down the road, general, and asked me to give him shel-
ter for the night. Had I known that Gen. Hardee was to honor
me with a visit I would not have put him to bed in my sitting-
room.”
“I trust I shall not disturb him, and I hardly think he will an-
noy me. You are not acquainted with him, then 7 You don’t
know his politics or sympathies”
Just at this juncture, as if in answer to the question, the sup-
posed “planter” started up and cried:
“Run, Tom ; take the horses and niggers down to the wood
pasture and keep them there. The Yankees are coming.”
Secret Service. 207
§:
Muttering, “Be quick about it, be quick, quick,” he sank down
upon the pillow again, all the time apparently fast asleep. The
Confederate had paused to hear the order, and now turned to the
hostess with a smile : º
“‘A man says when he is drunk what he thinks when he’s
sober,’ and I reckon it’s the same as to his sleeping and waking
hours. I haven’t any doubt about his politics now. The reason
I had for asking was that there is a spy in our lines we’re anx-
ious to catch, and we naturally suspect every stranger. But
he’s all right.”
If it were a relief to find that this was not Gen. Van Dorn, it
was still a matter of anxiety that there should be searchers in
the very house in which he had been obliged to take refuge. If
questioned by them, what should he give as his residence?
Whatever locality he might fix upon might be the home of one
of the Confederates and thus be the very means of convicting
him.
Whatever was to be done, must be done quickly. He ſay
upon the sofa apparently asleep, but really racking his brain to
plan an escape, as the Confederate officer awaited his supper. At
last the summons came, welcome alike to Confederate and Fed-
eral; and as the general followed his hostess from the room, the
captain opened his eyes, to see the faithful Tom beckoning as
wildly as he dared. Springing to his feet, forgetful of all inju-
ries, he was soon at the side of the darkey.
“I’se got de horses all ready, sah,” whispered Tom, “ come.
out dis way. Dey’ll be busy for some time yet in dar.”
Tom had thoroughly reconnoitered the premises, and led his
master safely out of the house, by way of a side door. As they
passed under the dining-room windows, they could hear the
clink of knives and forks, and the sound of voices—certain sign
that they were not suspected. Fortunately, the absence of the
injured man was not discovered for more than an hour; and by
that time the two fugitives had far distanced pursuit. It was
nearly midnight when they started, and not until the afternoon
of the next day were they able to reach the Federal lines, and
report the result of observations to Gen. Rosecrans.
In the meantime, curiosity had been rife amid his comrades as
to what had become of Capt. Carter. They had discussed the mat-
ter in the various circles that make up the army, and not being
able to discover any new facts by the light of their own under-
208 Secret Service.
standing, determined upon inquiry; the private asked the cor-
poral, the corporal asked the sergeant, the sergeant appealed to
the commissioned officers of the company, they to the field offi-
cers of the regiment, until finally the colonel put the question to
Gen. Thomas, who shamelessly disclaimed all knowledge of the
captain’s fate. Since Gen. Thomas, who said he did not know,
did not ask Gen. Rosecrans, the inquiry stopped there; nor was
any one the wiser about it until Capt. Carter’s return to camp,
when the following order was read to the regiment, assembled
for parade as it had been on the evening on which our story
Opens:
“SPECIAL FIELD ORDER No. —
“Captain Carter, (–th Indiana Wols.) is hereby ordered to return to
his command, and is recommended for promotion.
By order of W. S. RosFCRANs, Maj.-Gen.
LIEUT.-Col. C. GoDDARD, A. A. G.”
£HAFTER XXIV
ONE OF MOSBY'S RAIDS.
Affairs at Fairfax Court House—Disposing of the Pickets—The Meaning of It—
Prisoners and Booty—A Narrow Escape—Different Statements.
T was the night of March 8th, 1863. There was a Federal
force encamped in the village known as Fairfax Court-
House, Virginia, and the usual precautions had been taken to
prevent a surprise; pickets were duly posted, though there was
no countersign out ; and the night bade fair to be unmarked by
any other event than the relief of the guard at the usual time.
It was a dark and rainy night, and as the sentinels paced their
beats they wished that something might happen to take them
“in out of the wet,” it did not much matter what. But the
hours passed slowly away; the rain still fell in torrents; and the
tired guards still kept watch over their sleeping comrades.
Meanwhile, the event of the night was drawing near. That
very evening a body of men had ridden away from a camp some
miles distant, and had bent their course towards Fairfax Court-
House. There were but thirty of them in all, including their
leader; a man whose very name was yet to be a terror to small
parties of Federals apart from the larger forces—John S. Mosby,
then captain, afterwards colonel. They had timed their ride so
as to reach their destination about midnight, but in the rain and
the darkness they mistook the road, and lost two hours. It was
two o'clock on the morning of March 9th, then, when they rode
towards the Federal guards posted to the east of the village.
The sentry stood at his post, wearily wondering when the
night would clear, and cursing the luck that put him on duty in
such weather, when two horsemen were seen approaching.
“Halt l Who goes there 7” he challenged, sleepily.
209
210 One of Mosby's Raids.'
“I’ll blow your brains out if you say another word,” hissed
one of the horsemen in his very ear.
There was just enough light for him to see that a pistol was
pointed at his head at a disagreeably short distance; and as he
turned slightly, he saw the same spectacle in another direction.
He accordingly kept his eyes fixed, lest he should see the same
thing again in this dreadful kaleidoscope, and answered never
a word. His arms were demanded, and he gave them up with-
out a sound of remonstrance or objection. The other pickets
were disposed of in much the same way, their horses, arms, and
accoutrements being carefully secured. This work, however,
did not require the entire force; the detachment to which the
duty had been assigned before setting out had engaged in it
without hesitation, while the others rode on. Captain Mosby,
with two of his men, sought out the headquarters of Gen.
Stoughton, and ascended to that officer's apartment. Walking
into the room where the Federal lay sleeping, the Confederate
shook him by the shoulder with the summons:
“General, get up.”
The rudely awakened man started up in bed, rubbed his eyes,
resumed his dignity and severity of manner, and demanded
sternly :
“What does this mean, sir?”
“It means that this place is in the possession of Stuart's cav-
alry, and you are a prisoner. Please dress quickly—I can give
you but little time.”
“Who are you?” asked the general in astonishment.
“John S. Mosby, commanding the force of cavalry that is at
this place.”
Mosby's name, even at that early day, meant daring and dash,
but Stoughton never once supposed that he would be so foolhardy
as to enter Fairfax with such a handful of men as he really had;
and surrendered himself to the partisan. In other quarters, the
Confederates were less fortunate. Col. Wyndham, who was act-
ing-brigadier of cavalry, had, luckily for himself, started for
Washington a short time before; but their visit to his headquar-
ters was not without its results, for his aid, the Austrian Baron
Wardner or Wordener, was captured, as were several fine horses.
Capt. Barker, of the Fifth New York Cavalry, was also made
prisoner, and thirty privates were taken. Col. Johnson, how-
ever, escaped capture by concealing himself under a barn. Five
One of Mosby's Raids. 211
minutes after securing this place of safety, a guard of three men
was placed on the building; but they did not think of searching
beneath it. The provost-marshal had just gone to interview one
of the videttes, regarding horses and horse thieves, and thus was
not found by the Confederates, who searched diligently for this
important officer. **
In order that the prisoners would not be obliged to walk, the
Confederates helped themselves to horses from the officer's
stables; fifty-eight in all, including those of the pickets, being
taken. This capture of horses was of course solely on account
of the prisoners,
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this, for pruden-
tial reasons, Mosby wished to avoid. Such a measure would, of
course, alarm not only the two hundred Federals who were in the
town itself, and who, so quietly was the whole thing carried out,
did not suspect the presence of the enemy, but would bring down
upon them the two brigades, infantry and cavalry, encamped
near by, as well as the two thousand troops at Centreville. Into
such a hornet’s nest had they deliberately plunged their hand.
Contenting themselves with the thirty-three prisoners, fifty-
eight horses and the arms and equipments that they had thus
easily captured, the thirty Confederates retreated ; being in
somewhat of a hurry, for they must be beyond the Federal lines
“What does this mean, sir?”

14
212 One of Mosby's Raids.
§
before daylight, and more than an hour had been consumed by .
the operations in the town. In leaving the village, they passed
within two hundred yards of the fortifications at Centerville,
and were hailed by one of the sentinels thore; but they were not
delayed, and they reached camp in safety with all their prisoners
and booty, without the loss of one of their own number. Gen.
Stuart issued a congratulatory order, warmly commending all
who took part in the expedition for the daring courage and the
executive power displayed.
Two statements in regard to this raid curiously illustrate the
difficulties of the historian in obtaining correct figures. The
first is from the roport of the provost-marshal of the post to
Col. Wyndham, commandant; the second, from a letter written
by Capt. Mosby to a friend, and published in the Richmond En-
quirer a few days after the raid took place :
“I cºrn told by parties who had seen them that they were some
three hundred strong.”
“I had only twenty-nine men under my command.”
We leave the reader to determine for himself whether the pro-
cess used was multiplication or division. *
£HAPER XXV. •º
AN ADVENTURE OF PAULINE CUSHMAN.
Startling Advice—The Toast—Effect on the Audience—“Banished South *—Her
Wanderings—Securing a Disguise—Setting Out—A Camp Fire—Friends or
Foes?—Foes—Betrayed—Pursued—The Wounded Federal—Help-Captured
—Scaring Her Captors—Escape—After Adventures.
66TF you will take my advice, Miss Cushman, you will do what
I. they have asked.”
“ Col. Moore ſ”
“Of course, I know that you would not feel it; if I were not
sure of that, I should arrest you immediately; but if you are
willing to serve our country, do this.”
“Willing to serve my country? I would die for it !”
“Die for it, if need be; if not, live for it. If you will only do
this, you can do more real service than a regiment of men.”
The scene was the provost-marshal’s office at Louisville, in
March, 1863; the speakers were Col. Moore, the provost-marshal,
and Pauline Cushman, then known only as a popular actress,
now more famous as a scout and spy for the Federals. The
question which they were discussing was whether, in accordance
with the request of some gentlemen, she should drink a Rebel
toast in public that night. As soon as those who urged it upon
her had left her, she hastened to the official, and on reporting the
matter, was advised to drink the toast. Sending word to her
friends that she would comply with their request, the news was
soon all over town—at least, among those of Southern sympa-
thies. For it must be remembered that while Kentucky and
Missouri ostensibly remained in the Union, there was a large
population in both states that was intensely Southern ; and
along the border generally, the feeling was even stronger than
213
214 An Adventure of Pauline Cushman.
in those parts of the country farther removed from the seat of
war. Then, too, in a place situated as Louisville then was, with
a large Secessionist population, but in possession of the United
States troops, the dominant party was considered fair game,
... worsted in an encounter of wits or tricks whenever pos-
Sl Ol 6”.
The theater was packed that evening, with an unsuspecting
array of Union people and an expectant host of Secessionists.
The moment arrived when the action of the piece required Miss
Cushman to drink a cer-
tain toast; it was given—
“To Jeff. Davis and the
Southern Confederacy l’’
A moment’s pause, and
then broke forth the storm
of cheers and hisses—a
combination due, of
course, to the peculiar
circumstances. The play
went on, after a consider-
able delay, and at last it
was finished. Going be-
hind the scenes when the
performance was over,
Miss Cushman found a
guard in waiting, to convey her as a prisoner to the provost-
marshal’s office. After some persuasion from the manager, they
were, however, induced to postpone the execution of their duty
until the next day.
Of course, the arrest was a ruse, and only intended to enable
Miss Cushman to get the confidence of the Southern people
about town. The authorities were aware that there were many
persons in Louisville who supplied the Confederates with in-
formation and valuable stores; but it was done so adroitly that
the guilty persons could only be discovered by some such
means as this.
In accordance with the directions of Col. Moore, Miss Cush-
man behaved quietly in public, talking very little; but while in
company with those whom she knew to be Southern in feeling,
gave way to the bitterest denunciations of the Federal authori-
ties, and the most violent admiration of everything Confederate.
Pauline Cushman.

An Adventure of Pauline Cushman. 215
In this way, she removed herself far from suspicion in the eyes
of the Secessionists, while the Union people came to look upon
her with hatred. Assuming various disguises, she brought to
light many important secrets, and performed many valuable ser-
vices as a scout.
At last, however, the provost-marshal informed the pseudo-
Rebel that he could no longer tolerate her violent secession pro-
clivities, and she was, in accordance with the custom of the day,
banished from the lines. In reality, she was detailed by Col.
Truesdail, Chief of the Army Police, to visit the headquarters of
Gen. Bragg, and secure all information possible. The fact that
she had a brother in the Confederate army would make it com-
paratively easy to do this, as under the pretense of looking for
him, she could travel without suspicion from one camp to
another, and would be most gallantly assisted in her search by
the chivalrous soldiers of Dixie. Southward she went then,
having been duly instructed in what to do and what not to do,
and properly sworn into the service of the United States.
We need not follow her steps minutely in her journey to Gen.
Bragg's headquarters, and, subsequently, in the rear of the Con-
federate army, as it moved into South Carolina. There is no lack
of interest in the story, but it is eclipsed by the part which we
propose to recount. Desiring to make her way back to Col.
Truesdail at Nashville, she pretended that she wished to recover
her theatrical wardrobe, in order that she might accept a prof-
fered engagement in Richmond; she having been deprived of all
her baggage in her banishment.
On her return, then, she had gotten nearly to Shelbyville,
when the disturbed state of the country rendered it advisable
for her to remain a few days at a small village called Wartrace.
Only a day or so before her arrival at this place, there had been
a pretty heavy skirmish there, and the country was full of scout-
ing parties of both Federals and Confederates. Could she only
fall in with one of the former, she knew that she could send
much valuable information to headquarters; intelligence that,
like griddle-cakes, would be of no use when stale. To openly
communicate with them would be to forfeit all further chance of
escaping suspicion; it must be done secretly, if at all.
The first difficulty was to secure a disguise. In Louisville, she
had been well provided with a number of costurmes, male and
female, but, of course, it would not have done to take these with
216 An Adventure of Pauline Cushman.
her when she went South, for her baggage might be liable to
search; and the presence of disguises would at once brand her as
a spy. The matter was carefully considered, and after long
cogitation, she hit upon a plan. There was a boy of about seven-
teen living in the house where she was boarding, and her quick
eye saw that his clothes would not be a bad fit on her. But how
to become possessed of them ż He must, of course, know nothing
about it ; secrecy in every respect was essential to her safety;
hence the meditated expedition must be undertaken and accom-
plished in one night—between the hour for retiring and that for
rising.
She had decided what clothes she would wear, and she was not
long in determining how to get them. Had she known the exact
locality of his room, the task would have been easier; as it was,
she knew only that it was, with half-a-dozen other bedrooms, in
the upper story of the house. Tradition says that she made her-
self lovely in what the modest writer, taking refuge in French,
would wish to term a robe de nuit; but not having been there, he
can only repeat what others have said. The reader must know
that even in this part of her plan disguise might be necessary,
and in case any one discovered her roaming about the passage-
ways, she intended to play the leading role in La Somnambula
for his especial benefit; though perhaps he would be kind enough
to take her for a ghost, and run away without attempting to in-
terview the dreadful apparition.
As we have said, there were several bedrooms upon this floor,
and she did not know which was the one for which she was look-
ing. Of course, to have entered the wrong one would have
alarmed the house, and, in spite of her costume, perhaps have
betrayed her. There was a moment's pause at each door, as she
listened to the deep breathing of the sleepers within ; trying in
that way to decide which was the door to open. Having at last
arrived at a solution of the problem, as she supposed, shoºtouch-
ed the knob of one door lightly, turned it softly, and was about
to swing the door open, when a voice from within cried :
“What do you want?”
“O, what’s the matter with you?” growled another; “Lay
down and go to sleep, do.”
“There’s somebody at the door.”
“Well, get up and see who it is, and don’t holler out that way
in a fellow’s ear.”
An Adventure of Pauline Cushman. 217
f
She had listened long enough to know that neither of these
was the voice she had expected to hear, and hearing noises in
the surrounding rooms which indicated that all the occupants
had been disturbed, she glided softly into a small apartment
whose door was near by, and which she had supposed, from the
silence within, was untenanted. But the moonlight which shone
in the low window told a different story; it revealed to her the
form of the very person she was seeking, and, more important
still, it showed her his clothes on a chair near the bed. Amid all
, the noise which the occupants of the other rooms were making,
he slept on, in the heavy,
dreamless sleep of youth.
Bossessing herself of the
prize, she waited breath-
lessly until the tumult
without should have sub- ||
sided; then, gliding noise- #
lessly out, she made her ºf
way to her own room.
The flowing white robe
in which she had expect-
ed to play the part of
sleep-walker or spirit was
quickly discarded for the
less beautiful, but more
substantial garments of
butternut jeans, and pass-
ing the ebony sentinel of
the household fast asleep
in the hall, she bent her
steps to the stable, there 5 --
to select the most prom- A Midnight Visitor.
ising horse for her purpose.
It was the early summer-time, and the grass, not yet thinned
and deadened by the heat and drought of July, formed a thick
carpet over the ground, save where beaten paths and dusty
roads formed street and sidewalk for the little town; for plank
walks were a luxury reserved for the public square, and mac-
adam was a thing unheard of. But the lack of a substantial
roadway, which in March might have proved a drawback by rea-
son of the mud, was an advantage in June; for her horse’s hoofs
-...-
- *-- .


218 An Adventure of Pauline Cushman.
*
fell so softly upon the thick verdure that no sound aroused the
sleeping citizens, in vague alarm lest the enemy were coming.
She rode somewhat cautiously until there was no longer any
danger in that direction, and then, urging her horse to greater
speed, went to work in dead earnest. Her difficulties were con-
siderably increased by her ignorance of the movements of small
bodies of troops in the immediate vicinity. She who could have
told the Federal officials all about Gen. Bragg's army, was
afraid of falling in with a Confederate picket. -
Great caution was, of course, necessary, for if she came near
any camp, she must not be perceived until she had reconnoiter.
ed, and found the soldiers were friends. The necessity for such
careful proceeding was shown before she had gone three miles.
A glow, other than the pale moonlight, lit up the woods; it
was, beyond doubt, a camp-fire. That, of itself, was nothing; it
might be friends, it might be foes. A reconnoissance became a
necessity; so, dismounting, she carefully tied her horse, and
crept noiselessly toward the fire. -
Being under the necessity of sheltering herself from observa-
tion, she could not get near enough to the group to distinguish
any marks of service to which they belonged. Here and there
were visible the letters “S. A.,” but by a strange fatality the
first of the mark was hidden from her sight; it might be “C.”
or “U.” In the fitful light of the camp-fire, and at such a dis-
tance, she could not distinguish whether their uniforms were
blue or gray. Gradually and cautiously she crept nearer, deter-
mined to discover the character of the party before she revealed
her own presence in their neighborhood.
As she crouched in the thicket, peering earnestly through the
thick foliage which surrounded her, she heard them laughing
and talking among themselves, unconscious of listeners.
“This is good liquor, and no mistake,” said one, as he passed
a flask to his nearest comrade.
“Pity that a fellow that carried such stuff as that about with
him had the bad taste to be on the other side.”
“Wal, I dunno about that. If he’d been one of us, I reckon
he’d a finished it himself, before the enemy got a chance at it.”
A guffaw followed this brilliant piece of wit—any joke is good
when washed down with good liquor—and the conversation was
resumed by the same speaker:
“’S long's he was a good judge of whisky and had the ear-
An Adventure of Pauline Cushman. 219
marks of a gentleman, let's drink to his comrades. Here’s to
'em, boys 1 May they all soon be with him l’’
“And may we help to send them there—amen,” responded
another, in a tone of mock devotion.
“Tell you what, boys, that was a close shave, wasn’t it now 7"
“You bet it was; it was jist nip and tuck which should whip,
us or the Yanks.”
“Wouldn’t mind one like it every day, so’s we could git rid
of as many Feds.”
. The last two speeches had solved the problem; it was a camp
of Confederates, or, perhaps, of guerillas, and she must get out
of their neighborhood as quickly as possible. Stealing cautious-
ly towards her horse, a twig turned and snapped under her foot.
Instantly one of the soldiers by the fire, more watchful than his
companions, started to his feet and looked about him.
“What's the matter with you?” asked a comrade, looking up
at the man, who stood peering into the darkness beyond the
light of the fire.
“Didn’t you hear that?”
** Hear What ?”
“There's somebody over there.” *-
“O, it's some innocent old cow; do sit down and—”
“It wa’n’t no cow, Captain ſ”
This last word, in a somewhat louder tone, to attract the atten-
tion of the officer who sat on the other side of the fire.
“What is it 7”
“There’s somebody prowling about the camp, I think.”
Instantly the order was given that each man should resume
his heavier arms, which he had laid aside for greater comfort,
and that the force should scour the woods until the straggler
should be found. The words had hardly been spoken before the
stack of arms beside the fire had been demolished and the men,
now fully armed, were in the saddle. What had lately been a
picture of rest after the battle became a scene of wildest confu-
sion. Miss Cushman had hastened to her horse's side as soon as
she saw that her presence was perceived, and hastily mounting,
had dug the spurs into his side. But her pursuers lost as little
time, and were soon within a few yards, mounted upon animals
in as good a condition, apparently, as her own. Onward they
flew, threading their way between the trees, bounding over the
slighter obstacles which there was not time to avoid.
220 An Adventure of Pauline Cushman.
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An Adventure of Pauline Cushman. 221
“Halt l” shouted the oncoming pursuers. “Halt! Surrender P’
But of this she had no notion. Again came the summons:
“Halt and surrender, I say, you d d Yank.” *:
As if to emphasize the order, a bullet whistled past her head;
and, as she continued on her course, regardless of the summons,
another and another musket were fired in rapid succession.
Dangers thickened around her; if capture were perilous, escape
might be worse; to ride into Wartrace with these men follow-
ing her, would be to arouse the whole town; for they were yel-
ling like so many devils let loose; and to be seen in her present
costume by those who knew her as Pauline Cushman would be
to reveal her character as a Union spy. She dared not, then,
take the direct road to Wartrace, but must choose a more circu-
itous route, trusting to elude her pursuers somewhere on the way.
Galloping onward through the dense woods, where only here
and there the moonlight could penetrate the thick foliage, and
all else lay in black shadow, she came to a more open space,
and horrified at what she saw, endeavored to check her horse.
Before her lay a wide gully, with its sides rendered almost pre-
cipitous by the flood of water which in the early spring had
foamed along it; but now, the raging stream had dwindled to a
mere brook that rippled gleaming in the moonlight, in the
lower part of its bed; and, a month later, would have disap-
peared. But it was not the rivulet which caused her alarm;
true, had the water been level with the top of the banks which
enclosed its bed, it might have added to the danger; as it was,
she feared that her horse could not leap it, that she would be
landed in the brook, and there captured.
But her horse, a blooded animal, entered into the spirit of the
chase as fully as his rider. Trained as a hunter, he was not used
to consider as obstacles anything less than a house or a tree.
He did not, then, regard in the least her efforts to stop him; but
maddened by the shots and yells of the pursuers, dashed on—on
—to the very brink of the chasm that gapes to receive them—
on—and with one mad bound the noble animal has cleared it
and gallops free on the other side.
The pursuers had never quite lost sight of her, and at this mo-
ment they are in full view. One raises his musket.
“Don’t fire,” calls a comrade; “the boy and horse deserve to
escape—they’re both so plucky.”
“D—n their pluck,” replied the other, as the bullet sped on
222 An Adventure of Pauline Cushman.
its way; “’tain’t the right kind; it's the Yankee article, not
Our’n.” - -
“Yank or Secesh, I’ll be darned if I feel like chasing him any
more.”
“It’s a good thing, seein’ as none of us has got a horse that’ll
take the gully.”
“Tain’t that, but 25
“Come on, boys; here's a bridle path to get down, and one on
the other side. Don’t lose so much time.”
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Nearing the Chasm.
“Thought you wa’n’t going to chase him any more?”
“Have to ; orders.”
“For my part, I can’t see no pluck in runnin’ away; seems
to me there’s a little more in fighting.”
“One wouldn’t be anything against us.”
“That’s mighty true; but then, hunting’s right good fun;
that’s why I took to the bush.” -
As we have seen, the guerillas had lost considerable time in
finding a way by which they could cross the gully, and their pro-
posed prey was many hundred yards in advance of them—far
out of sight. Wishing to rest her horse a little, she allowed him to
fall into an easier pace than that with which she had started, and
rode quietly along, seeking for a road by which she might re-


An Adventure of Pauline Cushman. 223
*
turn to Wartraee without danger of pursuit. She came to a spot
where the grass was trampled as with the hoofs of many horses,
where the dust beneath was, here and there, caked into a strange,
reddish-brown mass by the action of a liquid, where there were
small holes in the trunks of the surrounding trees, such as Na-
ture had not put there. It was an open space in the forest, once
beautiful, but now, as the ghastly moonlight showed her prac-
tised eye, a skirmish ground but recently used. Confirming this
suspicion, a groan met her ear. Hastily dismounting, she went
towards the spot whence it proceeded, and found there a Federal
soldier, badly wounded.
“How did you come to be here? Are your comrades near
by ?” she asked, as she tenderly raised his head.
“Don’t know where they are. There was a skirmish here
this afternoon between our squad and some bushwhackers; but
I don’t remember anything after I was hit. Who are you?”
“A friend. Can I do anything for you?”
“I am afraid not; I ought to have my wounds attended to, but
it would take a surgeon to do me any good.”
“Will you help me?”
“Help you? Why, 55
“Listen; have you ever heard of a woman who is scout and
spy for the Army of the Cumberland 7”
“Pauline Cushman 7 I’ve heard enough of her to fill ten books.
Why,” said the wounded man, kindling into an enthusiasm that
made him forget his pain, “that woman is the idol of the army.”
“Will you help me? I am Pauline Cushman.”
“You? O, I’d die for you.”
“No need of that, I’m glad to say. Now, I started out to get
some information to our army, but have been chased by some
Rebels, and I must get back to Wartrace before day, or all my
work will be lost, and I shall be hanged. It will be impossible
for you to escape, so I want you to pretend that I wounded you
again.”
“I’ll do anything in the world for you, ma'am.”
“That is all I can ask of you. Now be sure and stick to your
story.”
And depositing him gently upon the earth again, she rose to
her feet, and rapidly fired her revolver three or four times.
“What's that for 7” asked the soldier in surprise.
“Some of these shots wounded you,” she replied, gravely.
224 An Adventure of Pauline Cushman.
“Now don’t forget the part you are to play. Good-bye.”
And springing on her horse, she was off like a flash. The shots,
while carrying out her plan more perfectly, had served her a
bad turn, for they guided the bushwhackers directly to the spot
where the skirmish had taken place. -
“Hello, there, who are you?” asked one, drawing rein beside
the wounded Federal. -
“I surrender, sir. I was wounded in the skirmish to-day, and
just now a boy that rode past shot me again. Maybe you heard
the shots.” -
“What did he shoot you for 7” -
“He seemed to think I was one of a party of our men that had
been chasing him.”
“Aint you a Fed 7”
“Well, I guess so.”
“And he said the Feds were chasing him 7 I reckon you’ve
got things a little mixed, haven’t you? Here get on your horse,
and come along.”
Slowly and painfully the prisoner was mounting, when two or
three of the others, who had gone on, came riding back with
another captive, who was no other than Miss Cushman.
“Here, captain, we’ve got him.”
“You d-d Yankees,” muttered the boy, as if in impotent
SCOI’D.
“What's that he says?”
“He’s swearing at his Yankee friends.”
“Friends !” broke in the boy; “I hate you worse’n p'ison;
you’re no friends of mine, you abolition Yanks, you.”
“Why, who do you think we are 7”
“Aint you Feds?”
“Feds? Well, I reckon not. Did you think we were 7”
“’Course I did. That’s why I run.”
A hurried consultation was held.
“Is this the boy that shot you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What did you shoot him for?” $
“Why, you see, I thought it was one of you, and I thought I’d
keep him from following me or telling which way I went.”
“Well, you talk all right, but Ireckon you’d better let us es-
cort you home. You needn’t be afraid of us; we’re good Secesh.
Ask this fellow if we ain’t.” . . .
*
*
An Adventure of Pauline Cushman. 225
“Durned if I don’t believe you’re the very man that shot me
in the fight to-day; I know I took aim at you,” said the Federal.
“Well, that's all right, all in the way of business. Come,
boys, mount and fall in.” <º,
Away rode the little cavalcade, with their two prisoners; for
Miss Cushman, of course, could hardly be considered anything
else. As she rode on, she revolved many plans of escape, but
even her busy brain could not hit upon one that appeared feasi-
ble. Under pretense that her horse was very much exhausted,
she frequently fell behind the main body, hoping to ride off in
another direction as soon as they were sufficiently far in advance
of her. But this plan was frustrated by the vigilance of her cap-
tors, who would never permit the desired state of affairs to be
accomplished.
- She soon found, by the conversation carried on among them,
that they were indeed bushwhackers, men who were unauthor-
ized to fight for either side, and who, if captured by either party,
could expect only a short shrift and a hempen necktie. Just at
present, it suited them to be on the Confederate side, and they
had possessed themselves of several articles conspicuously mark-
ed “C. S. A.;” but when these might be exchanged for others
marked U. S. A.,” the advance and success of the Federal army
must determine.
As was natural to men in their position, they were very much
afraid of being captured, or even of being attacked by any but a
very small number. The woodland road along which they were
now riding was here and there bordered by thickets which would
afford excellent opportunity for an ambush, and the guerrillas
were fully aware of this.’ A3 they approached and passed one
of the suspicious spots, Miss Cushman could see that every pre-
caution was taken to prevent a surprise from the rear, and
speedily determined to take advantage of their fears to escape.
As they drew near one of the densest of these thickets, she
allowed her horse to fall into a walk; by this means, she was
enabled to lag several yards behind the squad. They had just
reached the middle of that part of the road that would be most
exposed to a fire from a party ambushed in the thicket, when,
drawing her revolver, which she had been enabled to reload be-
fore her capture, she emptied all the chambers in rapid succes-
sion. Her expectations were most beautifully fulfilled. Not
stopping to see who had fired the shots, but taking it for granted
*
226 An Adventure of Pauline Cushman.
that there was a considerable body of Federals near by, they
dashed off as rapidly as their horses would carry them.
We may believe that she lost no time in making use of her op-
portunity. Striking off through the woods in the direction of
Wartrace, she reached that place a short time before daylight.
Having carefully removed all traces of his midnight journey
from her steed, she next proceeded to divest herself of the sus-
picious attire; and once more a white spectre ascended to the
room where slept the owner of the clothes, and carefully de-
posited them on the chair from which they had been taken. The
owner had not awakened since he first sank into slumber early
in the night; and, of course, had not the-slightest suspicion of
the stirring scenes through which his wearing apparel had been
carried.
There were literally no traces of her adventure remaining,
for, gifted naturally with a peculiarly hardy constitution, she
had seen too much service as a scout to permit one night’s work
to wear her out ; and when the inmates of the house met at the
breakfast table that morning, there was not one who found Miss
Cushman less blooming and brilliant than usual.
Of course, there was nothing accomplished by her night's ride.
Sho had failed to communicate with a Federal scouting party,
which she desired to use as the means by which to send the in-
formation she had gathered to headquarters; but of actual ser-
vice to thc (Hovernment there was, in her career, no lack. We
have not the space, however, to follow her as she penetrates the
secrets of the Confederate generals; as she is suspected, brought
before them, convicted as a spy, and sentenced to be hanged;
as they reprieve her, out of pity for her condition, when she
is enfoebled by disease ; and finally, as her guards retreat be-
fore the advance of the Federal army, and she is once more
safe, and in the hands of her friends. Hers was indeed a history
that embraced many stirring adventures, and hers was a name
well known to every man in the Army of the Cumberland.
£Harles XXVI.
A. DARING RESCUE.
A Mysterious Hero—Seeking Danger—Stirring News—Friends in Peril—Recon-
noissance—The Journey—A False Alarm—Outside the Jail—In the Jail—Keys
of the Cells—A Single-Handed Attack—The Keys Secured—Release of the
Prisoners—Retreat—Pursuit Eluded.
MONG the many who did good service as scouts and spies
during the War was a Georgian, known only by the as-
sumed name of John Morford; for sectional spirit ran so high
in those terrible days that the relatives of a devoted Unionist
or Secessionist were often violently persecuted by the neighbors
who held different views; and since his home was in a Southern
State, and his services done to the Federal government, Morford
assumed the name by which he was generally known. Indeed,
his own has been well-nigh lost in the stories that are told of him.
He was attached to the command of Gen. Rosecrans when, in
the spring of 1863, he went from Murfreesboro to McMinnville,
and operating from the town as a base, performed several import-
ant tasks. One of these was the burning of a bridge, over a
neighboring creek; a piece of business which he managed so
cleverly that no one suspected him of having a hand in it; and
which he afterwards discussed with the citizens as coolly as if he
knew no more about it than he pretended to know. But times
were dull in McMinnville after the talk about the bridge-burn-
ing had died away, and there seemed to be no prospect of any-
thing similar; so he bent his steps towards Chattanooga. But
affairs seemed to be as dull in Chattanooga as in the other towns,
and he had all but made up his mind to go farther when he found
that by such a course he might fare worse, as is proverbially the
C&SOs
I5 sº 227
228 A Daring Rescue.
By faring worse, he of course meant the failure to meet with
adventure. Danger, excitement, opportunity for serving the
cause which he had espoused, these were as the breath of his nos-
trils; he felt that he could not live without them. But to Chat-
tanooga came the news that three Federal scouts were confined
in the jail at Harrison, Tennessee, and were to be shot on May
1st. He began at once to plan a rescue, and soon had the train
laid.
There were plenty of Union men in town, but not all of them
could be relied on for dangerous work; had they been more
courageous, they would have been, like him, engaged in active
service. One was found, however, to go to Harrison and find
out various particulars which must be familiar to those who should
undertake the enterprise, such as the name and character of the
jailer, the number and disposition of the guards, and the general
arrangements of the jail. But though it was difficult, it was by
no means impossible to find men possessed of enough courage
and ability to assist in such an undertaking; and by the time
that the messenger returned, there were nine ready to follow
Morford to the rescue of the condemned scouts.
They left Chattanooga on the night of Tuesday, April 21, 1863,
proceeding very cautiously; for to awaken suspicion in the minds
of the Confederates would be to thwart their plan entirely. Of
course, the very fact of such a party journeying from one place
to another in those days was sufficient to provoke remark, so
they traveled mainly at night; concealing themselves in caves
and thickets of the Tennessee mountains during the day. They
of course knew men in the surrounding country to whom they
could safely apply for information, and from these they learned
on Wednesday, that the guard of the jail had been greatly
strengthened, as the jailer had heard that a rescue was intended.
This filled them with dismay, for they feared that the reinforce-
ments would be more than equal to their own party; and, after
all, the success of their enterprise depended, in a great degree,
upon taking the guard unawares.
But the man who furnished this information was known to be
particularly “scary,” as were many non-combatants on both
sides during the war. Many a country village has been left to
the women and children at the approach of a force of cavalry
which turned out to be a drove of cattle; and in one instance
that we know of, the advance of a load of hay over the prairie
A Daring Rescue. 229
produced similar results. Since their informant, then, was hard-
ly to be relied upon, they resolved to reconnoiter again. Ac-
cordingly, the same man who had acted as a -messenger in the
first instance, went to Harrison Wednesday night. Their dis-
trust of the judgment of their friend was not unjustified; for the
scout returned on Thursday morning with the information that
there was no extra guard; that there were but two, besides the
jailer, as before ; that there had been no alarm of a rescue, so
far as he could ascertain ; that the guard did not appear to be
particularly on the alert, as they would have been if there had
been any such report.
But discouraged by the delay, and fearing that the unwelcome
news might prove true, four of Morford’s men had returned
home, leaving only six, including himself and the messenger, to
carry out the undertaking.
Late Thursday afternoon they left their hiding-place and went
by different paths to the river; loitering about until dark, they
hastily repaired to the rendezvous appointed, where they found
the leader, with two boats that he had procured in the neighbor-
hood. Crossing the river, and concealing the boats until their
return, they took the road to Harrison. They entered the town
and approached the jail without difficulty, there being evidently
no soldiers in the place.
“There are two gates in the board fence around the jail; S y
you will keep guard at the one on the east side, and L at
the southern one. J will be the prisoner that I am to put
in the jail. The other two must stand in the jail-yard as if they
were part of the escort.”
Such were the leader's instructions. The sentinels having
been thus duly assigned to their posts, he, with the other three,
entered the jail yard and rapped loudly at the door. The dim
light that was visible inside the building became brighter as a
window was raised.
“What do you want?” called the jailer, as he thrust his head
through this opening.
“I have a prisoner in charge ; will you receive him 7”
“Wait a minute, and I’ll open the door.”
In a moment he had admitted Morford and J into the entry;
but something alarmed him, and with the words, “Just wait a
minute, will you?” vanished outside the door. Morford felt no
alarm at his absence, for the sentinels had been posted at the gates
230 A Daring Rescue.
for the very purpose of preventing the escape of the jail officials
or any one else who could give the alarm to the Southern men in
the town; but when ten minutes had passed, be began to wonder
what kept the jailer so long; he ended by investigating, and
found that the sentinels, contrary to orders, had permitted the
fugitive to pass.
“We’ll have to be in a greater hurry, then, "said Morford;
“for there's no telling when he may be back with help.”
Returning to the building with his prisoner, he roused the jail-
er's family. $
“I can’t wait for the jailer to come back. I’ve got to get this
man out of my hands and get back to camp. Can’t you get me
the keys 7”
“I would give them to you, sir, if I had them or knew where
they were,” replied one of the women.
“Where are the guards?”
After some hesitation, one of the women designated a room in
which a guard was sleeping. To this the two men went.
“Get up 7 I’ve got a prisoner here and want the keys.”
“I’m not the jailer.” &
“Get up and get the keys, I tell you. I know you’re not the
jailer.”
“I’ll be d
you can.”
“I have a prisoner here that—”
“Confound you and your prisoner | Let him go, and then you
won’t be bothered with each other.”
“Where are the keys?”
“Ask the women, if the jailer ain’t here. They’ll know.”
Nothing more could be gotten out of him, evidently, without a
resort to force; this they were unwilling to do, as they did not
wish to betray their real character until the unfortunate scouts
were safely out of their cells. They accordingly went again to
the room where they had seen the women.
“You must let me have the keys, madam. I don’t know when
the jailer will be back, and I must be in camp again as soon as
possible.”
“I am very sorry, sir, but—”
“The guard says you have the keys, or know where they are,
interrupted Morford, in a firm voice; “please get them for me.”
The tone in which the words were spoken made the question
*.
d if I get up. Get the keys yourself, the best way
A Daring Rescue. 231
sound more like a command, and the jailer's wife answered:
“I can give you the key of the outer room, but have not that
opening the cells. Here is the key of the outside door.”
Morford took it as she offered it, and unlocked the door she in-
dicated. He found himself in a long room, or rather corridor,
along one side of which was a row of cells constructed of wrought
iron, in such a way as to resemble cages more than anything else.
In these he saw the three condemned scouts, one other white
man, and a negro. Determined not to reveal his true character
until he had succeeded, he began to abuse these men roundly.
“D—n your sneaking Yankee tricks; I’ve a notion to hang you
now, and not wait for next month.”
“You have no authority,” began one of the prisoners, in a
mildly argumentative tone, as if he would reason with the savage
Bebel before him.
“O, to h- with your authority. What does it matter to you
whether you’re hanged with it or without it, so you stretch
rope? Get me the keys, I say.”
“I have told you, sir, that we have not the keys, and do not
know where they are.”
“Get me an ax, then, and be quick about it.”
“There ain’t any ax about the place.”
Morford, seeing that they were determined to resist him as far
as possible, decided that he would have his orders obeyed, and
that without delay. Collaring a boy, a son of the jailer, he drew
his sabre, and thundered out:
“If you don’t get an ax in two minutes, I’ll cut your head off.”
The boy was off like a shot, as soon as Morford let go of his
collar; and returned with the ax in less than the time specified.
But the Federal had hardly begun to cut at the lock when he was
startled by the command, “halt!” at one gate. Ax in hand, he
started out, followed by his prisoner.
“What is it, L– ?”
“I’ve halted an armed man just outside the gate, sir.”
Walking out to where the new comer stood, Morford asked:
“Where are you going?”
“Where is the jailer 7 The messenger said you were breaking
down the jail.”
“What messenger?”
“One that just came out.”
“Well, what are you going to do about it, if I am breaking
232 A Daring Rescue.
down the jail? Suppose I carry off the whole jail, what then?”
“I am going to stop it, if I can.”
As he spoke, he raised his gun, but Morford was too quick for
him, and grasped the barrel.
“Let go of this gun,” was the Federal’s command, “ or I'll give
orders to my men to shoot you.” -
But the stranger vouchsafed no reply in words; every muscle
was strained to wrench the gun from the other's grasp. Morford,
without relaxing his hold on the weapon, drew his sabre and
brought it down with a heavy sweep upon the other's neck. The
wounded man, drawing back as he felt the blow, lost his hold of
the carbine, and Morford began to search him for other arms.
Pſe recovered himself, however, in a moment, and with desper-
ate strength tore himself away. Morford followed, firing his
revolver as he ran. Five shots were heard, but only three took
effect, the most serious wound being in the fleshy part of his
arm. He succeeded, however, in reaching the hotel, which was
kept by his brother, and bursting in the door, sank down ex-
hausted.
The hotel-keeper came out as soon as his brother had made
known the state of affairs, together with several men who were
in the building; and Morford soon found himself the centre of a
crowd.
“If you want to guard the jail you’ll have to be mighty quick
about it,” he replied, fiercely, to their muttered threats; “I’m
going to burn that, and the town in the bargain.”
With white, set face and blazing eyes, he strode forward; the
crowd fell back before him, and unmolested, he returned to the
jail. -
“Cheer, boys, cheer,” he cried; then added in a lower tone:
“Make them think there’s a company here.”
The order was man fully obeyed; and the six men made as much
noise as ten times their number would have made under ordinary
circumstances. Frightened at the idea of such a large force in their
midst, the townspeople scattered to their homes; the streets were
deserted; lights, which might be guides as to where to shoot,
were extinguished; darkness and silence reigned everywhere,
except in the jail.
There, everything was in confusion. The character and pur-
pose of Morford and his party were now unmistakable; and the
women and children huddled together in a frightened group as
A. Daring Rescue. 233
the Federal hacked away at the burglar-proof lock on the door
of the cells; while he and his party felt themselves encouraged
by the uncontrollable joy and gratitude of those whom they were
about to release from “durance vile.”
Half an hour passed, and at last the lock gave way; only to
reveal, however, that the door was a double one, the inner being
secured by a similar lock, and by three heavy log chains. Blow
after blow from the brawny arm of Morford was rained upon
these defenses; and in a few minutes the chains hung idly on the
door posts. But the lock still remained.
“Bring me the key without any more fooling, or I'll murder
every one of you,” he said, sternly, to the women, who were
cowering near.
“The key ain’t here,” called the guard, who was still in bed.
“Get up out of that bed,” was Morford’s reply, in such a tone
that the guard dared not disobey.
As he approached, Morford struck at him with his sabre, more
for a show of ferocity than for anything else; but the man was too
far off, and the blade struck one of the children, barely drawing
blood, so slight was the cut. But it was enough to produce the
desired effect. The children screamed with terror; the women
stood with white faces and trembling lips, expecting momen-
tarily that the Federal would fulfill his threat of murdering
them all. Seeing that they would no longer dare to withhold
it if it were indeed in their possession, he again demanded the
key; which was produced without the slightest attempt at fur-
ther delay.
Words cannot describe the scene which ensued when he flung
open the door, and set the condemned scouts free. And yet it
was but simple. A grasp of the hand, a few broken words, a
suspicious brightness of the eye—
“For hearts must speak, though the lips be dumb”—
that was all; and Morford turned to make arrangements for the
retreat. One of these men was armed with the gun which was
wrested from the hotel-keeper's brother, and all were provided
with the clothes and other property which had been taken
from them when they were captured. Then the whole party
made the best of their way to the river, and seeking out the boats
in which they had crossed, were soon on the other side.
The danger was by no means over. By morning of the follow-
ing day, by noon at the latest, the whole surrounding country
234 A Daring Rescue.
would have heard of the rescue, and all the Southerners would
be on their track. The boats, then, were carefully concealed in
a wisely selected place; they would probably be found, how-
ever carefully hidden, and they were so placed as to give the pur-
suers the impression that the pursued had taken an entirely dif.
ferent path from that really chosen. Bending their steps, then,
to the mountain fastness which had sheltered them before the at-
tack upon the jail, Morford and his men lay quietly there while
the surrounding country was being scoured by the Confederates,
anxious to capture both the condemned men and their rescuers.
The chase was finally given up, and the huntsmen returned in
disgust, supposing the game had reached a safe covert. When
they found that this was the case, Morford and his men issued
from their hiding-place, and journeyed as rapidly across the
country as human endurance would permit.
Once, at least, their chance of escape seemed anything but a
good one. Their presence becoming known to a body of Confed-
erate cavalry, they were pursued, fired on, and nearly surround-
ed; escaping only by scattering, each man to some hiding-place
well known to himself. The cavalry force encamped for the
night, and threw out pickets; but made wise by their previous
experience, the Federals remained in their places of conceal-
ment until the Confederates, baffled by their mysterious disap-
pearance, moved on.
Collecting his scattered men as soon as it was safe to do so,
Morford proceeded to Murfreesboro, which was reached in safety
on the very day on which the scouts were to have been shot.
£Harrºr XXVII.
A YOUNG GIRL’S SERVICE.
Seeking a Guide—In Hot Pursuit—A Guide Procured—Her Ruse to Save the Gen-
eral—He Refuses a Living Shield—The Work Accomplished—The Offer of
Recompense—Her Choice—Fully Repaid.
, 66 O you know if there is any ford or passage by which
my men could cross the creek 7 The Yankees have de-
stroyed the bridge.”
The speaker was a handsome man, tall and lithe, his hair iron
gray, but his beard and mustache unchanged from their original
jetty black. He wore a simple gray uniform, that bore no dec-
orations of epaulet or gold lace; only the arrangement of the
buttons on his coat indicated that he held the rank of lieuten-
ant-general in the Confederate Army. He had ridden up to a
little cottage that stood at the roadside, on the porch of which
stood a young girl. Around him were his battle-scarred and
war-worn veterans, their bronzed faces expressing almost unen-
durable weariness; some even were nodding in their saddles, en-
tirely overcome by the long march. As he spoke, an elderly
matron came to open the door, beaming over her spectacles up-
on the soldiers, and forming a not inappropriate back ground
for the picture.
The questioner was Gen. Forrest, and he was in hot pursuit of
Streight's cavalry. The Confederates had gained rapidly upon
the Federals until reaching this point; but the destruction
of the bridge by the latter had thrown much difficulty in the way
of the pursuers. Unless they could find a way to cross the
creek immediately, the prey, so nearly secured, would escape
them. The country was wild and rugged, and the banks of the
creek were, in most points, too steep to allow of a passage on
235
236 A Young Girl’s Service.
horseback. To find a place at which they could safely descend
to the stream was the object of the inquiry. The girl began to
explain the position of various natural objects which would
serve as landmarks, but the route was so intricate that the sol-
dier, unacquainted with the minor features of the country,
found it impossible to follow her.
Finding that it would be very difficult to proceed without a
guide, and no one else being obtainable, Gen. Forrest asked the
young lady if she would mount behind him and show him the
š
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Showing the Ford.
Way. There was a momentary objection from the mother, who
urged that unpleasant comments might be made upon it; fear-
ing in reality to have her daughter risk the enemy’s bullets;
but the necessity of the troops overruled such scruples, and,
stepping on the roots of a fallen tree, the girl sprang up behind
the general. Off they went, toward the ford, over a road so
rough and so overhung with the branches of the trees that many
a rider of no slight skill would have had difficulty in keeping his
seat. But it was hardly more possible to unhorse Forrest than
it would have been to unhorse a centaur; and Miss Sansom, our
heroine, was no less skillful a rider.

A Young Girl's Service. 237
At last, they could discern, through the opening branches of
the trees, a wide gap between the summit of one hill and the
next; they were drawing near to the creek, and that more dis-
tant hill was the other side of the stream. A moment more, and
they had reached the surmmit of the elevation, and begun to de-
scend. As they gained this point, the soldier's quick eye saw,
here and there among the brown trunks on the other side, a lit-
tle dusty blue; and as the sunshine fell between the thin foliage
of early May, there were long gleaming lines visible. An omin-
ous whizzing was heard as they rode on.
“What was that?” asked the fair guide, shrinking in affright
as she heard the strange sound.
“Bullets,” answered the soldier, briefly; then, kindly, “are
you afraid 7”
“No, sir,” she answered, trying hard to keep her voice steady.
The ground was now so covered with undergrowth and snags
that it was impossible to proceed on horseback, and they dis-
mounted. A few sturdy blows of the ax would make a way for
the main body, but they had no time to wait for the pioneers to
come up now. As if to show the way more easily, Miss Sansom
pressed on, leaving Gen. Forrest to follow her.
“The Yankees won’t fire on me,” she said, looking back at
him, “and they might fire if you went first.”
“I cannot shelter myself behind you in that way,” he replied,
not having seen at first the reason for her wishing to precede
him; “you must let me go first. If they had any idea what you
were doing, they would as soon fire on you as not.”
She was reluctant to yield, but he insisted so strongly that she
was at last obliged to do so, and with the line of march thus
changed, they proceeded on the reconnoissance; an occasional
shot from the rear-guard of the enemy admonishing them that
their work was not without danger. The route was fully ex-
plored under these disturbing conditions, and the two returned
to the main column, still halted in front of the wayside cottage.
“Miss Sansom, your services have been invaluable to me,” said
the commanding officer as they stopped at the gate; how can I
repay you for them?”
“I need no pay, Gen. Forrest; it is enough to have sorved the
Confederacy,” she replied.
“But, at least,” he insisted, “tell me something that I can do
for you in acknowledgment.”
238 º A Young Girl’s Service.
“Well, General, the Yankees ahead have got my brother pris-
oner; recapture him and send him home safe, and I will be more
than repaid for the little I have done.”
“It is five minutes to eleven now,” he said, taking out his
watch; “by five minutes to eleven to-morrow morning your bro-
ther shall be with you. Good-morning.”
Meantime, the axmen had been busily at work, and the thick
undergrowth was cleared away sufficiently for the cavalry to
proceed. The Federal rear-guard, finding their present quarters
rather hot, moved onward with the main command. Forrest's
whole corps crossed the stream in safety, and continued the pur-
suit with a vim that made up for their slight pause. The Georgia
line was passed; only trifling halts were made ; there was no
time for rest, hardly time to snatch a scanty meal from their
nearly empty haversacks. Still they pressed on ; night came ;
morning came ; and at last they came up with the main body of
the enemy. If the pursuers were weary, the pursued were even
more utterly worn out. Many were killed; the others captured.
Among the prisoners that were retaken was young Sansom. Gen.
Forrest inquired particularly after him, and on being informed
that he had been recaptured, gave him the fleetest horse in the
command and orders to go home. There was but little time to
lose, for it was already ten o’clock; but the brother reached
home in time to redeem the promise made to the sister.
Although she had asked or desired nothing else, and thought
what she had done but a trifle, the Legislature of Tennessee (Con-
federate) presented her with a valuable tract of land in appreci-
ation of her service. Whether or not the title was considered
good when the era of “reconstruction” began, we cannot say.
But, simple as the story is, it is no bad instance of what a woman
can do to help the cause that she loves; and whether we wished,
twenty years ago, that Streight might escape or that Forrest
might succeed ; whether we prayed for the boys in blue or
those in gray; whether “C. S. A.” meant patriotism or treason;
we cannot but admit that in this one case, the headlong courage
which even his enemies never denied to Forrest or his men,
would have failed of its object had it not been for Emma San-
som of Cherokee.
£HAFTER XXVIII
CAPTUTEING A BATTLE-FLAG.
Chancellorsville—A Fated Regiment—Hand-to-Hand—The Colors—Avenging Their
Comrades—A Double Victory—The Trophies.
THOUSAND deeds of daring on every battle-field are
hidden by the smoke of the guns from the eyes of all but
a few. The general commanding witnesses a few, and sees the
dash of the officers as they lead their men to a charge; and rec-
ommends them for promotion in his report. But for one that ob-
tains this recognition, there are a thousand unnoticed, because
unknown. Even of those that become public, many are hidden
away in some musty official reports, or in the columns of obscure
local newspapers. Such is the story which we would now relate;
the story of an incident in Stonewall Jackson’s last battle, at
Chancellorsville, May 3, 1863.
The Confederates fought with a fury which might have been
inspired by a presentiment of the misfortune which was to befall
their cause. Every regiment of the Federal Army was ex-
posed to fierce and hot firing; but among them all, there was
none so frequently the object of charge and shot as the One
Hundred and Second New York State Volunteers; and the color
company was specially singled out by the enemy. This com-
pany was commanded by Capt. Green, and it is his exploits that
we would relate. g
The regiment was stationed at the extreme left of the line of
battle. The fight had raged since 5 A.M. and still, at noon, there
were no signs that either army would give up the contest. Several
charges, made by various Confederate regiments, had been re-
pulsed by the gallant volunteers; and at last the Twelfth Geor-
gia swept down upon them, Across the open field they came,
4s 239
240 Capturing a Battle-Flag.
unheeding the shot poured into their ranks; over the breast-
works they swarmed, into the very midst of the Federals. It
was no place for long range rifles; it was a hand-to-hand con-
flict; bowie-knife and pistols were the weapons of most use, but
even fists were not to be held in disdain. The two color com-
panies closed in combat, each fighting for the treasure so jeal-
ously guarded by the other. The flag of the New York regi-
ment needs no description; but to the rising generation the other
would be unfamiliar. Upon the crimson ground was a blue di-
agonal cross (St. Andrew's), the limbs extending from corner to
corner. On each limb of this cross were three white stars, while
the one at the centre made the thirteenth—one for each of the
eleven Confederate States, and for Kentucky and Missouri,
which, the Secessionists claimed, were kept in the Union by
fraud and force. Such was the battle-flag of the Twelfth
Georgia.
The captain of the Confederate color company sprang at Capt.
Green, calling out to him : “Surrender.” “Not yet,” replied
the Federal, as he seized his opponent by the throat. There was a
momentary struggle between the two, as between many another
pair on that self-same field ; each held his sword in his right
hand, and endeavored with his left alone, to overcome his an-
tagonist; for he dared not make an effort to use his sword, lest
he must relax his hold. But it was for a moment only; then
the Federal tripped up the Confederate. The Georgian fell
heavily, striking his head so severely as to render him insen-
sible; and the New Yorker wrenched his sword from his hand,
and started on. But as the Confederate fell, the Federal was
seized from the rear by an ambulance sergeant of the Southern
regiment, and thrown, in his turn, to the ground.
IIastily changing the two swords to his left hand as he sprang
up, he regained his feet; and with his right hand knocked down
his latest assailant. This only opened the way to what was the
objective point to every man in the regiment—the enemy's
colors. Within a few feet of him, the broad crimson banner
floated over the field, upheld by a brawny Georgian. Towards
the color-sergeant the Federal sprang, and in an instant more
his hand was on the flag-staff. • - - -
“Give me this flag,” he demanded sternly; the Confederate
made no reply in words, but tightened his grasp on the staff.
There was a moment in which it was a question which of those
Capturing a Battle-Flag. 241
two determined men would win; but then the Federal wrench-
ed the staff from the other's hand, and, with a blow, felled him
to the ground. With lightning-like rapidity he tore the colors
from the staff, and thrust them into the bosom of his fatigue
jacket, casting the useless and dismantled staff contemptuously
aside. This had occupied but a moment, and as the color-ser-
geant rose to his feet, the Federal demanded his surrender. The
man sulkily complied, for he had been deprived of more than
liberty—of the flag that symbolized the honor of his regiment.
But his capture of the flag had not been unobserved; two pri-
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vates of the color guard, seeing the sergeant's fate, rushed at
him almost simultaneously. He must turn to meet one, and, in
so doing, would expose himself, unprotected, to the vengeance
of the other. There was no choice in the matter. Turning to
the left, he caught the barrel of his assailant's gun in his left
hand, and wrested it out of position; while his sabre descended
upon the Confederate’s head, inflicting a ghastly wound. Blind-
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º






































242 Capturing a Battle-Flag.
reeled backward; his hold on his gun relaxed, and his antago-
nist turned to the other opponent. That Confederate had fired
before coming within such a short distance as his comrade; but -
the movements of the Federal in the contest with the first had
been as fortunate as the most elaborate dodging. His musket was
double-barreled, but one load had been fired; so that now he had
no load remaining. Clubbing his musket, however, he advanced
gallantly to the attack. But by this time the gigantic Federal
was ready to receive it. Evading the blow aimed at him, he
brought his sabre down with terrible force upon his opponent's
shoulder, thus disabling him.
The demand for a surrender was of course immediately com-
plied with by the Confederate; and Capt. Green began to collect
the captives, not of his bow and spear, but of his sword and fist. -
The Georgia captain still lay insensible from the effects of his
fall, his head having struck with great force on the barrel of a
musket which lay on the ground ; but he, with the ambulance
and color sergeant and the two privates, was put in charge of a "
guard of Federals, and conveyed to the rear. So far, however,
do actions outrun words that the whole affair occupied much less
time than it has done in this present telling. It was literally a
five minutes' fight, for only that length of time had elapsed from
the Confederate's first summons to surrender until Capt. Green
sent his prisoners to the rear.
The flag was, by Gen. Hooker's order, sent to his headquarters,
and now, we believe, finds its appropriate place among the na-
tional tróphies won in the various wars through which the
United States have passed. The Georgian’s sword was present-
ed to Capt. Green, with appropriate ceremonies, by his brigade
commander, as a recognition of his gallantry.
£HAFTER XXIX.
A PRISONER'S NEWS.
A Friendly Chat—An Unwilling Listener—Exciting Tidings—His Resolve—Cir-
cumstances Favoring His Escape—His Departure—Asking Aid—The Guide
—Progress Under Difficulties—The End of the Journey—What Was Saved.
66 OOD morning, colonel; fine morning, sir.”
G. “Yes, it's the season for fine weather—the middle of
May. You are out early to enjoy it.”
“Yes, I believe it is only a few minutes after sunrise. There
seems to be a good deal of stir in the camp this few days past.
The state of the weather favors military operations, I suppose.”
“Yes, we are guided to some extent by the state of the weath-
er, though not so much as our grandfathers were. They went
into winter quarters, and we fight all the year round ; that’s
the difference.”
“Well, here in Mississippi, there isn’t much need of going into
winter quarters, anyhow. But all these men that are coming
here look right fresh, considering their steady fighting and scan-
ty supplies.” -
“Yes, they’re ready for work, and the best of it is that the
work is ready for them. There’s a nice little expedition in
view.”
“Ah ! A reinforcement for Vicksburg 7” asked the civilian;
for it was in 1863. *
“No, we’ll only help Pemberton indirectly by cutting off
Grant's supplies. Our spies and scouts have brought us word
that a large commissary train is to leave Grand Gulf to-morrow,
and we intend to attack that. Kill two birds with one stone,
you know—keep Grant from getting the supplies, and secure
them for our own use,”
16 243
244 A Prisoner’s News.
“You must have had the information sometime ago. The
troops have been coming in for several days past.”
“Oh, this movement is only one of a series. We’re concen-
trating here for the purpose of waylaying all his trains. There
are ten thousand men here.”
Such was a portion of a conversation which took place at Port
Gibson, on the morning of the 16th of May, 1863. The speakers
met on the veranda of the hotel, and conversed in ordinary tones,
not suspecting how eagerly their words were drank in. They
had not noticed that they stood very near a window, only the
shutters of which were closed, nor did they know that in that
room lay a wounded Federal officer. Suffering severely, he slept
but lightly and uneasily; the first murmur of voices outside his
window had awakened him ; he tried in vain to compose him-
self to sleep again, while the chat went on ; but when the Con-
federate officer (for such he evidently was) began to inform the
civilian regarding the next day’s expedition, he had no wish to
go to sleep again; he must not lose a syllable. He raised him-
self on his uninjured arm and loaned forward, anxious to catch
every word. There was but the information which we have set
down, and the talk turned to other subjects, which had no inter-
est for the wounded man.
Some two weeks before the date at which our story begins, the
Confederates had charged upon and captured a train. Much to
their disgust, the five wagons turned out to be ambulances, filled
with wounded Federals. The comrades of the wounded prison-
ers were in great excitement over the capture, and eager to res-
cue them. A force of three hundred men, under the command
of Col. Clark Wright, of the Sixth Missouri Cavalry, was sent
out for this purpose; the main force of the Federals being at
Rock Spring, forty miles from the point where the seizure had
taken place. Starting at dawn on the 6th of May, Col. Wright's
command reached the Confederate camp at Oakland College,
near Rodney, the same evening; and drove in the enemy’s pick-
ets. The Confederates retreated; but only, as the Federals soon
learned, to secure reinforcements and advance again. The Mis-
sourians accordingly took ten prominent men of the town as
hostages, and, to avoid being surrounded, fell back to Port Gib-
son. Their retreat was not unmolested, though the march at
night through a broken country was not, at best, an easy one,
and the pursuers were as tired as the pursued. Continual skir-
A Prisoner’s New8. 245
mishing was kept up until they reached the town, about 2 A. M.
During this running fight, Major Kiernan had been severely
wounded in the shoulder and thrown from his horse. He was
transported to the town with as much gentleness as circum-
stances would allow, and left in charge of his orderly and a
nurse. The next day, however, the Federal force retreated in
such haste to a hill beyond Bayou Pierre that their wounded
officer was left to the tender mercies of the enemy. Fortunate-
ly for him, he fell into good hands. For often, during the War,
narrow-minded men became suddenly elevated to a power which
they did not know how to use, and the Government which placed
them in such positions was held responsible for the abuses com-
mitted. The captors of Major Kiernan, however, were made of
other stuff. His orderly and nurse, of course, were not permit-
ted to remain with him, but the place of the latter was imme-
diately supplied by an equally efficient person. “He was very
kindly attended by a Confederate surgeon,” says a contempo-
rary Northern newspaper; which, to say the least, was not apt
to ascribe too much credit to Southern humanity. Twice he
was offered a parole, but both times he refused. As he was quite
disabled by his wound, however, there was no very strict guard
kept upon him; the visits of the surgeon being the only sur-
veillance to which he was subject.
But ten days had passed since he was shot, and although he
was still far from well, the conversation on the veranda had
quelled the sense of pain, had dulled the perception of danger,
the remembrance of the distance that would have to be traversed
—everything but the intense desire to reach the Federal head-
quarters at Grand Gulf and give notice of the contemplated at-
tack in time to save the train. He rose and dressed himself as
well as he could, with his wounded shoulder. Fortunately, the
nurse, seeing him safely asleep at midnight, had left him for much
needed rest, and would not return for two hours more, at least;
so that there was no one to wonder at his sudden activity. The
early hour was another circumstance in his favor, for but few of
the guests or employes of the hotel were as yet stirring. He de-
scended to the ground floor, meeting no one but a negro cham-
bermaid; and, save in very rare cases, the Federals could always
depend upon the fidelity of the colored people.
Nor was there any one to stop or challenge him as he left the
building, and made his way through town. Unacquainted with
1 ºn
246 A Prisoner's News.
the country immediately around Port Gibson, what he most
dreaded was losing his way. Guidance of some kind must be
secured. He dared not address any white person, or even let
himself be seen by one; for even if such a person were not a
strong Secessionist (and it was but one chance in a hundred that
he would not be), fear of the consequences, or an ignoble desire to
curry favor, might induce him to secure the suspicious inquirer.
Day was rapidly advancing, and he must be out of town before
his absence from his room was discovered; he must be off the
public streets before they were thronged with citizens and
soldiers.
In this state of affairs, he bethought himself of the source
whence aid so often came to those in similar situations—the
colored people. He had not much difficulty in finding a little
cabin occupied by a family of these friends in need.
“Hi, daddy!” he called, to an ancient “uncle,” who was
busily at work in a confused mass of rude and humble household
goods, with which the front yard was filled.
“Good-mawnin', boss,” was the respectful answer, as the old
man dropped his work and advanced towards the soldier, pull-
ing the lock of gray wool that hung upon his retreating forehead.
“I’ll come in,” the officer continued, suiting the action to the
word; “I want to see you privately.”
“Lawdy, massa, ’taint a berry nice place fo” you to come in,
fur we’s agwine ter move, an’ de tings is all ebery which way.”
“Never mind that. Do you know who I am 7”
“I spec's you’s a Fed’ral soger, sah; ain’t you now 7”
“Yes, and I am a prisoner, or at least was,” answered the offi-
cer, determined to throw himself at once on the old man’s mercy;
“will you help me to get away ?”
“Goramity, massa, I’ll tote you on my back cl’ar to General
Grant's headquarters ef you says so.”
The earnestness of the old man’s profession was so totally at
variance with his decrepid old age that the officer, anxious and
suffering, could hardly suppress a smile. *
“No need of that,” he answered, in a kindly tone; “but I
want you to show me a path by which I can get out of town with-
out being seen by any white people. Can you do it?”
“O, yes, sah; dat’s easy. But you wants to go pretty fas’ now?”
“As fast as I can.”
“Ef it's all de same, dar’s my son Jim what’s more activer dan
f
*
A Prisoner’s News. 247
Iis, sah; I got de rheumatiz so bad dat Ijist hab to hobble along.
I’ll call him, sah.”
Jim was summoned, and readily undertook the task of guiding
the prisoner. Major Kiernan had passed the more public part
of the town before applying for this aid, wishing to expose his
guide, whoever it might be, to as little danger as possible; for
it would be dangerous for a colored person to be found guiding
a Federal prisoner back to freedom. Their route, then, lay by
and among the
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ter learning the
route that he must take to reach Bayou Pierre, dismissed his
guide with many thanks and a suitable reward. On through
the brush, then, he pressed, the sun his only compass by which
to direct his course.
The stream, sluggish and turbid, like all the manifold branch-
es of the Mississippi, was reached at last. Swollen by the spring
rains, it was too deep to wade through, and he was too badly
disabled to swim across. With some difficulty he loosened a
half-decayed log, which had become partially imbedded in the
soft ooze bordering the stream ; and armed with a rude pole,
:ºº
Seeking a Guide.

248 A Prisoner’s News.
which he found a few yards off, he managed to cross the stream.
But with the passage of the stream, his difficulties were by no
means ended. He found that the camp on the hill to which Col.
Wright had retired from Port Gibson, had been abandoned. He
was not unprepared for this; even if Jim had not informed him
of it, he knew that it could not be held with so large a force of
the enemy at so short a distance; but as he toiled painfully on-
ward, and still there were no signs of his comrades, he felt al-
most disheartened. Weakened by pain and fever, nothing but
indomitable will sustained him, as, now through marshy forests,
now through thick canebrakes, he made his way. Every step
was hard labor, for often his foot would sink almost to the ankle
in the soft and slimy ooze ; and the effort made to release the
one would, of course, but sink the other deeper. Mile after mile
he journeyed, until it seemed so many hundreds. Yet he dared
not, he could not, he would not give up the the undertaking, so
difficult of execution.
He began to look forward to the end of his journey as the
child, at midsummer, looks forward to Christmas; half with dis-
belief that it will ever come, half with dread of the long ages
which must first pass. Wearily, wearily, he dragged himself
on. The fever which had coursed through his veins was leaving
him now, and a terrible weakness was succeeding it. Yet he
must, he would go on. At last his tired eyes caught the glim-
mer of the sun on something white; far off, indeed, but still a
hope; though he half fears that his imagination, his very sight,
is playing tricks upon him. But no; the white spots slowly
grow larger as he presses on ; at last they assume a definite
shape, familiar to the soldier's eyes; he sees the tents of the
Federals at Grand Gulf, eight miles from Port Gibson.
The sight, or rather the certainty that his eyes have not de-
ceived him, puts new vigor into his limbs, and he hastens for-
ward as if he were neither wounded nor wearied. But when the
necessity for exertion ceases, when he is in the presence of the
Commandant of the post, words fail him in which to tell that for
which he has undergone so much ; he falls, fainting to the
ground. They revive him, and press on him every attention;
but although they would sooth him to rest, he must tell his
story; nor will he be satisfied until informed that all necessary
precautions shall be taken to save the train from capture. His
self-devotion was not forgotten, but rewarded in the manner
A Prisoner’s News. 249
dearest to the soldier's heart—the praise of his superior officers,
and a more substantial recognition in the shape of a recommen-
dation for promotion.
£H APTER XXX
A SPY AT STUART'S HEADQUARTERS.
The Work Cut Out—A Trustv. Servant—A Solitary Scout—The Disguise—A
Country Chap—A “Rale Ginral”—Gives Stuart Some Valuable Information—
That Saves a Federal Train—Dismissed—Hears the Arrangements—An Ama-
te, ºr Postmaster—He Doesn't Forward the Mail Matter—Prisoners and Booty
—ºeturn.
T was in June, 1863. In a private parlor of a hotel in Fred-
I erick City there were tables strewed with maps and charts,
over which bent men of soldierly bearing, and dressed in blue
uniforms; endeavoring to trace out, by frequent references to
newspapers and manuscripts, the route of the enemy. At one
of the tables sat another man, quite as evidently an officer, but
wholly unemployed. It was eleven o’clock at night, on the 24th
of June. Suddenly an orderly entered, and announced “Sergeant
Phelps.” He was directed to show him in; and immediately after-
ward the new comer made his appearance. The idle officer rose
as he entered, and advanced towards him with a pleasant greet-
ing, to which the sergeant returned a respectful answer.
“I have a piece of hard work cut out for you, Sergeant,” he
said; “are you willing to undertake it?”
“I am willing to do everything in my power, General, to
help the cause,” answered the subordinate, earnestly.
“I know it, I know it,” replied Gen. Stahel; “but you must
start to-night, for the work must be begun right away if it is to
do much good.”
“Very well, sir. I will set out as soon as I receive your or-
ders,” said Phelps. tº
“Go to the Potomac near Williamsport, watch the movements
of the enemy, find out all you can about his strength, and inten-
250
A Spy at Stuart's Headquarters. 251
tions as to routes and time of moving, and communicate your in-
telligence either to Gen. Meade, who has just assumed the com-
mand, or to me, according as circumstances shall make it advis-
able. How many men do you want?”
“Ten, General. When am I to report the information ob-
tained l’’
“Whenever you see best—that is, when the interest of the ser-
vice requires it; or when you receive a special order from me.
I will give you an order on Col. Price for the men you want, and
for good horses for them. Get your own horse ready by the
the time the order is written out.”
The sergeant saluted, and left the room on the errand. As
may readily be seen, his merits as a scout were well known to
his superior officer; indeed, he was at the time chief of Scouts
to Gen. Stahel, who was in command of the division of caval-
ry used for the defense of the national capital. The general gave
wide discretion to the scout, but in such a case it was necessary;
and he knew that the liberty would not be misused. The order
was received, and the sergeant set out towards Middletown,
where Col. Price was encamped. The First Michigan Cavalry
was favorably known to our scout, and at his request, the best
and bravest man of each of ten companies was ordered out to
accompany him on his expedition.
Their preparations were soon made, and they set out upon
their difficult journey across South Mountain. Not until four
o'clock on the morning of June 26th was Boonsboro reached.
Halting here until the next day, which was Saturday, several
expeditions were made into the surrounding country, and con-
siderable information of some value was obtained. Dispatching
a messenger back to Gen. Stahel, for he was unwilling to give
up his own work so soon, he made arrangements for penetrat-
ing to the very Sanctum sanctorum of the Confederate camp—the
tent of Gen. Stuart himself. There were many strong Union
men in town, and from one of these he obtained a suit of clothes
for his disguise; or, perhaps, it would be more correct to say a
suit of rags. Knocking off one boot heel gave him the appear-
ance of having one leg shorter than the other. Even the con-
tents of his pockets were in perfect keeping with his character,
that of a farm-hand, whose rheumatism had made him a cripple,
and rendered him unfit for service even in that army which
“robbed the cradle and the grave * in the vain effort to win the
...”
252 A Spy at Stuart's Headquarters.
contest; a gimlet, a tow-string, and an old broken pocket
knife, the blades worn thin, or else notched like a saw, could
hardly betray the shrewd Federal scout, let him be subjected to
ever so rigorous a soarch.
Leaving his men at the hotel in Boonsboro, he set out on his
lonely march towards Hagerstown, where Gen. Stuart's cavalry
had halted. Much retarded by the necessity of limping along,
it was yet but one o’clock that night when he reached his desti-
nation ; and with an activity that, told little of rheumatic pain,
leaped over the stone wall that guarded the town on the north-
ern side. He hobbled along, and at last was on the street lead-
ing to the centre of the town.
“Halt! Who goes there?” was the challenge, as the sentinel
saw him advancing in the starlight.
“A friend,” was the reply. *
“ Friend to which side 2°
“Friend to the South, of course; I’m all right, sir. I’m a loyal
man.”
“What are you here for 7”
“I jest come into town to see our boys—thought I’d like to
see what you all look like.”
“Didn’t you ever see any soldiers before?” asked the sentinel,
who had permitted him to advance.
“Lots of 'em, sir; I’ve been in Maryland all through the War.
But I never seen any that could whip the Yankees like you all
done.”
“Oh that's it, is it 7” answered the soldier, who swallowed
the bait readily enough. “Well, here comes the officer of the
guard. Get on the right side of him, or he'll send you a-flying.”
The officer of the guard was making his rounds, and was now
indeed approaching this post. Seeing the stranger near, he
asked sharply:
“Who is that man 7”
“Some country chap, come to town, to see the show of the di-
vision.”
“Where did you come from ?” asked the officer of the stranger.
“From just the other side of Wolftown, sir, t'other side of the
Mountain. I’m working on Dr. Farney’s farm this harvest.”
“Why aren’t you in the army 7” he demanded.
“I did want to enlist, sir, but the recruiting officer wouldn’t
take me, I had the rheumatiz so bad. My left leg's drawed up,
A Spy at Stuart's Headquarters. 253
and I didn’t walk just to suit him,” replied the scout demurely.
“And he mightn’t have been very hard to please, either,” in-
terposed the sentinel, in a “stage aside.”
“I reckon I’d better take you to the general,” mused the offi-
cer; then aloud: “How would you like to see Gen. Stuart?”
“Ginral Stuart, sir? the reel ginral himself?”
“The very man.”
“Thar ain’t nothin’ I’d like better nor to see a reel ginral. I
never seed one,” replied the scout with a fervor of desire that
was not all assumed.
He was accordingly con-
ducted to the headquar-
ters of the commanding
officer. Tate as was the
hour, the room was throng-
ed with busy aids; a short
thickset man, with heavy
brown beard and mustache,
concealing the lower part
of his face, so that only
the frank, laughing blue
eyes indicated his charac-
ter, sat busily writing at a
table ; it was the famous Gen. J. E. B. Stuart.
cavalry-leader of the Confederacy. As the officer of the guard
entered, followed by the limping, grotesquely clad farm-hand, he
turned his head, and as his eyes fell upon the strangely assorted
pair, they gleamed with a keen appreciation of what was to come.
In a few words the officer of the guard related all that he knew
of his man.
“Who are you, and where do you live when you’re at home?”
he asked, turning to the scout, who stood looking curiously
around him.
“I live just t'other side of Wolftown, Ginral, an’ my name’s
George Fry; I been workin for Dr. Farney thar this harvest.”
“Wolftown 7” asked the Confederate, with another expression
in his eyes; there's a big Yankee wagon-train there, isn’t there?”
“Yes, sir,” answered the farm-hand, meekly.
“I must have that, Cooke,” said the general, turning to his
future biographer, then one of his aid-de-camps; “it would be
a great prize.”

254 A Spy at Stuart's Headquarters.
“Law, Ginral, you all ain’t a goin’ to try to git them ar wag-
ons, air you?” -
“Why not? There isn’t a large guard there, I believe, and I
have five thousand men and sixteen guns here.”
“Why, I thought all your soldiers had guns, Ginral. What do
the rest of 'em have 7”
“Oh, they all have carbines, and revolvers too, for that mat-
ter,” explained Stuart, with one of his hearty laughs; “when I
said guns, I meant cannon.”
“But may be thar’s more on ’em than you think for, Ginral.
They jest got three big new brass cannon this afternoon, and
three thousand foot-soldiers. Maybe your critter soldiers could
run over 'em all; but then ef they know’d you all was comin',
they’d fire them ar' cannon down the gap and kill you all right
thar.” -
“You have a strange idea of war,” replied Stuart, laughing
again, “if you think so many men could be killed at once. I
hardly think you'd make a very good soldier.”
“No, Ginral, the recruiting officer said I had the rheumatiz too
bad,” was the scout’s parting shot.
Stuart turned away; for if he loved a joke, he could leave it for
hard work when necessity required. His arrangements were now
clear in his own head, and he rapidly explained them to the offi-
cers present. The train could not be attacked, since there was
so large a force guarding it. (“So much for Yankee ingenuity,”
thought the scout; “he could have captured those two thousand
wagons just as easy, with the three hundred guards thrown in.”)
The main body of his cavalry was to move towards Green Castle.
“Major, you will remain here in town, with fifty men as a
rear-guard. You will take care of the mail for the army, and send
it on at once. It will be here at six o'clock to-morrow evening.”
“How much of that mail do you think you will get, General
Stuart?” thought the scout, as he heard the order. “I shall be
postmaster, and I dont think much of it will reach you.”
But never a word of this was suspected by Gen. Stuart or his
aids. The rheumatic farm-hand remained in town until the main
body of the cavalry marched out; this delay was necessary, for
fear his sudden coming and abrupt departure should expose him
to suspicion; and the genial, jovial Stuart was merciless to any
one filling the office of a spy. He took his departure, however,
as soon as the cavalry had left the town, and hastened back to
A Spy at Stuart's Headquarters. 255
Boonsboro. Before going, however, he had carefully selected the
point at which he intended to charge into Hagerstown. At Boons-
boro he found his eight men waiting for him. (It will be re-
membered that two had been sent back with dispatches to Gen.
Stahel.) He addressed them thus: -
“Boys, there are fifty Rebels in Hagerstown, Stuart's rear-
guard. They are to take charge of the army mail, that gets there
this evening at six o'clock. I am going to capture that mail, but
any of you that don’t want to go along and help, can go back to
your regiment.”
“I, for one,” answered one man, readily,” will not leave you,
or surrender without your order.” -
“Nor I,” “Nor I,” was echoed around him until all stood
pledged to the words of their spokesman. Their horses were soon
ready; they mounted and set out towards Hagerstown. There
was but little time, for they must reach the town before the mail
was sent onward. The striking of the town clock was to be the
signal. Thanks to their rapid riding they reached the edge of
the town some minutes before six, and lingered a little until the
first stroke of the bell was heard. As it sounded clear and deep,
they dashed down the main street with a wild shout. The Con-
federates, not doubting that a large force of Federals had attack-
ed them, took to their horses and rode away as rapidly as the
beasts could be made to carry them.
But not all escaped thus fortunately. Nearly a third of their
number were delayed in mounting so long that the Federals were
upon them before they were fairly in the saddle. They surrend-
ered at discretion, and were marched back to Boonsboro, thence
to Frederick City. Sixteen prisoners, twenty-six horses, besides
a nice little supply of small arms, were carried off. The mail,
which was also captured, was a very important one, containing,
among others, five dispatches for Gen. Lee; three of which were
from President Davis, the other two being from the Confederate
Secretary of War. The scouts lost not a man or a horse, nor did
one of their number receive a wound.
gharter XXXI º
CAPTURE AND ESCAPE OF MORGAN.
The Partisan—The “Marion of the West”—Different Opinions—Reasons for Raid
—First Triumph—Called Back—Second Start—In Kentucky—Capt. Hines'
Scout—A Warm Reception—Marauding—General Scare—Rapid Marching—
High Water—Lessening the Force—Surrender of Morgan with Remnant of
Command—Securing the Prisoners—Ohio Penitentiary—“Old Man Hevay”—
The Prisoners Ride the Guard's Hobby—The Tunnel Begun—A Second Guard
Taken in by Flattery—Reconnoissance Made Possible—A Prize in the Shape
of a Spade—Tunneling—Necessity for Haste—A Brother's Devotion—Outside
the Penitentiary—Was there Collusion ? — A Traveling Companion—The Es-
cape—Discovered—Morgan's Death.
HE partisan is naturally the hero of song and story. So
much of the romance has been taken out of war, by the con-
stant improvement in weapons, that it shows, more than ever,
its more terrible side. When each man marked his antagonist;
when each individual victory was the result of personal courage
and skill ; when the result of the battle was made up from these
individual victories and defeats; then, there was that about war
which could inspire the lay of the minstrel and furnish the epic
poet with a theme beautiful, although in that very beauty there
were elements of the terrible. But now, when the mark is often
but a dim grayish line, there is nothing of the wild impulse
which drives men to fight when opposed by an enemy; it is
simply obedience to the orders of a general who thinks about as
much of his privates as the chessplayer thinks of the elephant
from whose tusks his pieces were made.
But the partisan comes into actual contact with the enemy—
penetrates to his camp, carries off his messengers, intercepts his
scouts, and often pays the penalty of his daring by becoming a
prisoner. Such was Marion during the Revolution:
256
Capture and Escape of Morgan. 257
“The band was few, but true and tried,
The leader, frank and bold—
The British soldier trembled
When Marion's name was told.
Grave men they were by broad Santee,
Grave men with hoary hairs, -
Their hearts were all with Marion,
For Marion were their prayers.
And lovely ladies greeted them
With kindliest welcoming.”
Such is the estimation in which the partisan is held in his own
country and among his own
people. The opinion of his ene- _º
mies is often different; widely, ---
and it may be, in case of cap-
ture, painfully different; but
with that, save for the pur-
pose of correcting the extrava-
gant praises and the incred-
ible achievements related of ºzº
the Ranger, we have but little 2.
to do. We speak only of the "
admiration which thrilled the
breast of the colonial New
Inglander in the days of the
French and Indian War, when
Putnam’s name was mention- Gen. John H. Morgan.
ed; of the South Carolinian, in the Revolutionary days, when the
praises of Marion and Sumter were sounded ; and of the Ken-
tucky Rebels of the recent War, when Hayne sang:
“Hath the wily swamp-fox
Come again to earth?
Hath the soul of Sumter
Owned a second birth ?”
and added, by his song of “The Marion of the West,” a new
lustre to the already famous name of John H. Morgan.
As we have intimated, the question of this soldier's merits has
been differently decided by the two parties, friends and foes;
but as time goes on, and the bitter feelings pass slowly away,
men of the North are more ready to recognize that his was a
peculiar genius, particularly adapted to the kind of warfare he
chose. His method was irregular, violating the established
rules, but still supported by the broader principles on which

258 Capture and Escape of Morgan.
#
those rules are based. In the condemnation of him by the
stricter officers, we must take into account the fact that he occa-
sioned them much trouble. Such was the rapidity and unex-
pectedness with which he moved that he has been compared, by
a recent writer, to the Irishman’s flea-‘‘I put me hand roight
on him, and, begorra, he wasn’t there !” But after two years of
learning in that dearest of schools, the Federal cavalry began
to take in the lesson which the old plainsman stated thus, as ap-
plied to one case:
“Whar thar ain’t no Injuns, thar you’ll find 'em thickest.”
They began to fight Morgan with his own weapons; to look
for him where he was least likely to be ; to guard every point;
to be continually on the alert; and at last their efforts met with
the due reward, so long wished for, so often despaired of, and
only attained by hard labor, incessant care and much loss of
life. How that capture was effected, and the efforts the gallant
Rentuckian made to escape, it shall now be our business to nar-
rate. z
It was early in the summer of 1863. Gen. Bragg, whose army
lay around Tullahoma, knew that he could not long hold that po-
sition, and would soon be compelled to retreat before the advan-
cing forces of Gen. Rosecrans; while Gen. Buckner, who com-
manded a small body of men in the eastern part of Tennessee,
would be driven southward as soon as Gen. Burnside should
march upon him. But this was not all. The retreat must be
attempted, but there was but little hope that it could be accom-
plished with a reasonable degree of safety; on the contrary,
there was much danger that the army would be cut to pieces.
Of all the officers engaged in the War, in either army, there
was, perhaps, none who excelled Gen. Bragg in the skill and
judgment with which he used his cavalry. On this occasion, he
saw that a vigorous demonstration in Kentucky made by this
arm of the service would engage the attention of the Federal
generals sufficiently for him to retreat unobserved. Accordingly,
Gen. Morgan’s command, long regarded as invincible, was or-
dered out for the purpose. The leader, bolder even than the
general commanding, desired to make the raid yet more extend-
ed, and crossing the Ohio, penetrate into the very heart of In-
diana and Ohio. This, he urged, would create so much terror in
the states thus invaded that all the troops in that section of the
country would be sent after him; and even if he and his men
Capture and Escape of Morgan. 259
should be captured, the benefits to the South would far outweigh
the losses.
But while Bragg fully appreciated the generous courage which
prompted the offer, his prudence would not permit him to accept
the proposition." He gave Morgan carte blanche to go wherever
he would, south of the Ohio, but peremptorily refused all per-
mission to cross it. But though the orders were plainly stated,
the subordinate resolved to commit that offense, unpardonable in
a soldier—disobedience to a superior. To his second in command,
Maj. (afterward Gen.) Basil Duke, he expressed his determina-
tion to cross the Ohio, and make the horrors of the War felt in
the North as they had been felt in his native state.
The plan, indeed, was one that he had long nourished; and
fully three weeks before the time of which we speak, he had
ordered intelligent and reliable men to examine the fords of the
upper Ohio. Nor was he alone in his desire to penetrate into
the enemy's country, to “carry the War into Africa;” for at
this very time, the officer who stood deservedly at the head of
the Confederate Army was advancing into Pennsylvania toward .
Gettysburg.
It was the 11th of June when the division, consisting of a little
less than two thousand five hundred men, set out from Alexan-
dria, and marching to the Cumberland crossed it not far from
Rome. The main body encamped near the pike, while a detach-
ment was sent some two or three miles forward to intercept a mail
train. In that disturbed section, it was necessary to protect the
mail carriers, and in this case, a guard of eighty or ninety men
had been detailed to insure the safety both of the messengers
and of the several sutlers' wagons which accompanied it. Many
times had such a train passed on its way unmolested, and on this
occasion no danger was anticipated. Had it been, a braver guard
would probably have been chosen; for this turned and fled in
the wildest confusion as soon as the Confederates fired; not a
shot being returned. -
Such was the first triumph of Morgan’s invincible command
(for so it was considered) on this its great exploit. It seemed to
strike terror into the hearts of those who would have stopped
his progress, for no opposition of any account was met with until
the 2d of July. In the meantime, the necessity of intercepting a
Federal raiding party which had made its way into East Tenn-
essee and was threatening Knoxville, had obliged Gen. Morgan
\
17 -
260 Capture and Escape of Morgan.
to recross the Cumberland, and retrace his steps for some dis-
tance. But, retarded by a local rain which rendered the roads
impassable for their four pieces of artillery, the Confederates did
not arrive in time for any real work. On this 2d of July, then,
during the great battle of Gettysburg, which was to drive Gen.
Lee from Pennsylvania back to Virginia, Morgan’s division again
recrossed the Cumberland, this time, at two unimportant points,
a few miles from the southern boundary of Kentucky.
The river was unusually high, owing to those very rains which
had so lately retarded their progress; and Gen. Judah, in com-
mand of the Federal forces in the vicinity, supposed it impassa-
ble. It was, indeed, a dangerous thing to attempt ; the stream
had risen high above its ordinary level, and foamed and fretted
and rushed along like a mountain torrent. Nor had they boats
fit for their purpose ; two or three small canoes, and two rickety
flat boats on which, in ordinary circumstances, no one of them
would have trusted a dog for which he cared, were the only
means of crossing which had escaped the vigilance of the Fed-
erals. But necessity knows no law, and having come thus far,
they were not the men to give up the task they had undertaken.
While they crossed the raging stream in these crazy crafts, the
enemy, secure in the notion that the river was utterly impassa-
ble, had not even posted videttes to give information as to the
movements of the Confederates.
Wain security Delusive hopes Judah had hardly become .
aware that Morgan had accomplished what he had thought im-
possible, before a portion of the gray-coated cavalry had charged
upon a body of his command and driven it back to the main en-
campment on Marrowbone Creek. But it would require too
much space to detail their Kentucky fights; a bare mention
must suffice. Columbia was taken on the third, while Col.
Moore, who had thrown up fortifications at the bridge where
the road from Columbia to Lebanon crosses Green River, found
the national anniversary an unfortunate day on which to oppose
Morgan. Elsewhere will be found a hint of the way in which
the Confederate leader discovered that Louisville would be an
unhealthy place to visit; so after three Federal regiments had
been encountered and defeated some five miles from Lebanon,
on the fifth, and Bardstown had surrendered on the following
day, the division marched in a direction northwest-by-west, to
the Ohio River; striking that mighty stream at a point some
Capture and Escape of Morgan. 261
thirty miles southwest of Louisville, measured in a bee line.
All this time, of course, the Federals were not idle; but Hob-
son’s command was following Morgan as closely as the great raid-
er's speed and unexpectedness of movement would permit. But
the blue-coats were full fifty miles behind whén the boys in gray
reached Garnettsville. It has been said that Morgan crossed the
Ohio to escape from this officer, who was in command of all the
cavalry of Judah’s division; but a sane man would rather “bear
the ills he has than fly to others that he knows not of;” to leap
from the frying-pan into the fire is the act of a very foolish fish
indeed; and the absurdity of this theory is the best answer to it.
Captain Thomas H. Hines had, some two months before, been
given permission to scout “north of the Cumberland” with some
eighty men. The orders fixed no time at which he must return
to his command, and tempted by the latitude which the vagueness
of stating time and place afforded him, he made rather an exten-
sive scout. There is rather a large extent of country lying
“ north of the Cumberland,” and the loyal state of Indiana is in-
cluded in it. When, therefore, Capt. Hines had crossed the Ohio
and raided the southern portion of this state, he had not dis-
obeyed the letter of his orders; and the letter pleased him better
than the spirit. But, as we shall see, his presence there prepared
an unexpected difficulty for the main command.
Morgan reached Brandenburg on the eighth, having previous-
ly sent scouts forward in advance of the main column to procure
means of crossing the river. These had succeeded in capturing
two steamboats, and as soon as the command came up, the work
of embarkation began. But the raid of Capt. Hines had greatly
alarmed the Indianians; the militia had been called out, and two
gunboats had been sent down the river. Capt. Hines’ little force
had been scattered by the combined efforts of the army and
navy, as thus represented; some were captured, while a few, in-
cluding the gallant leader, of whom we shall hear again, escaped
across the river to the main command. -
As soon as the Confederates were perceived upon the southern
bank of the river, the gunboats opened fire upon them ; but the
high bluffs which there overhang the river on the Kentucky
shore afforded an excellent position for Morgan’s artillery; and
the grim, black crafts were soon driven off. By midnight of the
eighth, the entire command had crossed the river; the militia
retreating rapidly before them. A popular song of the day,
262 Capture and Escape of Morgan.
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Capture and Escape of Morgan. 263
among the Union people, was a parody on the finest lyric of the
War, and began thus:
“John Morgan's foot is on thy shore,
Kentucky, O Kentucky;
* His hand is on thy stable-door,
Kentucky, O Kentucky.”
It simply reflected, as most such songs do, the popular idea
regarding its hero ; he was a robber, an incendiary, come to
steal and ruin, not to fight. There is, of course, much truth in
the plea put forth by Gen. Duke, that the nature of the service
attracted to the command many men who came merely for the
sake of plunder, and who could not be deterred, by any effort of
their officers, from securing it. There is another point to be
considered : As destruction of property which may afford as-
sistance of any kind to the enemy is a legitimate object of war;
harrying this portion of the country was no more guerilla war-
fare than were the Federal raids in the Southern States. So
much allowance must be made ; but when it is made, even the
historian, who was Morgan’s lieutenant and successor in com-
mand, admits that much mischief was done for which no neces-
sity existed. For instance, a bird-cage and its tenants are hard-
ly to be missed by the enemy or valuable to the captor; and a
man who, in July, carries off half-a-dozen pairs of skates, can
scarcely be said to be driven thereto by stern necessity. Yet
both were taken.
Over the wires, before they had fairly landed, flashed the
ominous words: “Morgan is in Indiana.” The message struck
terror to the hearts of all who heard it, and the wildest confu-
sion prevailed through the entire state. In case of a flood,
each man stays in his house until the last moment, feeling as-
sured that the river will certainly fall before it can injure him
or his property; but in case of an invasion, such as this, no one
waits for the invader to be driven back; every one flies be-
fore him. Even the militia were no exceptions to the general
rule, and the militiaman's courage is proverbially equal to the
truthfulness of an amateur fisherman.
Everywhere people fled. from their homes, taking with them
all valuables that could be carried off. The press denounced the
military authorities for having permitted Morgan to cross the
river—let the war be carried on any place but here; while the
military authorities excused themselves by stating that the in-
264 Capture and Escape of Morgan.
vaders far outnumbered any Union forces which could be
brought into the field at such short notice. Although this was
so far from being true that Morgan’s men numbered less than
one-fourth of the militia sent against him by Indiana alone, he
endeavored to confirm them in their own statements by making
his force appear much larger than it really was.
The Confederates advanced rapidly towards the eastern
boundary of the state, and by one o’clock on the afternoon of
the 13th, they had entered Ohio, and reached Hamilton. Up to
this time, every man within two hundred miles of the line of
march had anxiously watched the course of the column; fearing
that some rapid movement, totally unexpected, might bring it
full upon his own town. But now, this feeling of uncertainty
was, to a great extent, ended. Some breathed more freely, as
they felt that some degree of safety was assured them, for a
while at least; and the people of the doomed city gave them-
selves up to blank despair. There was absolutely no hope for
it. Cincinnati was, beyond a doubt, his objective point, and the
Queen City would be laid waste.
Such was the rapidity with which he moved, and the difficul-
ty with which information was obtained in a country so bitterly
hostile, that Morgan could not ascertain how large a force was
stationed at Cincinnati, and he therefore dared not attack it.
Besides, there was no reason why he should do so; the capture
of it could do him no good ; it would simply be an elephant on
his hands, and he was not in the menagerie business. Having de-
termined, then, to pass the city without molesting it, it became
necessary for him to use the utmost speed in order to escape at-
tack himself. At four o’clock on the afternoon of the 14th, they
reached Williamsburg, twenty-eight miles east of Cincinnati,
having accomplished nearly one hundred miles in thirty-five
hours.
The men had been worn out when they passed Cincinnati, many
of them being fast asleep in their saddles, and it was an impera-
tive necessity that they should halt here for a night's rest. By
daylight they were again in the saddle, moving forward over the
terrified state. Every effort was made to retard their advance;
the populous state poured forth thousands of men to defend her
own soil; every road swarmed with militia, who were driven
back only with difficulty after they had placed almost impass-
able barriers in the path of the invader. Every day the resist-
Capture and Escape of Morgan. 265
ance became more determined ; every day the numbers of the
state troops increased, while those of the Confederates dimin-
ished; and at last, almost worn out by the long and rapid march,
but still exultant as they thought of the end they had accom-
plished, Morgan and his men were ready to recross the Ohio,
and return via Kentucky, to the bounds of the Confederacy. ,
It was 8 o’clock on the evening of July 18th, that Buffington
was reached. This was one of the points at which the fording
had been examined some time in the previous May; and those
who had performed that work had reported that the river would
be easily forded at this point when the water was at the stage
usual in July. Their judgment was based on a knowledge of
the river for twenty years, during which time it had invariably
been low during the summer months. But now, by a strange
piece of bad luck, the river had risen; swollen by the summer
rains, it was too deep to be forded ; they had no other means of
reaching the Kentucky side ; and the presence of numberless
gunboats warned them that an attempt to cross on rafts or in
open boats of any kind would be worse than useless.
As they waited at Buffington for an opportunity to cross, their
situation hourly became more desperate. The enemy was clos-
ing around them; the command was being scattered ; they were
bushwhacked and harassed on every side. Gen. Duke, with a
considerable force of which he was in command, was captured on
the 19th. Col. Johnson, with three hundred men, was more for-
tunate, since they escaped by swimming the river and making
their way through West Virginia. By these and the losses pre-
viously suffered, the force remaining to the commanding general
was now less than two hundred and fifty men. Capture was in-
evitable, and yet he hardly dared to surrender, for he feared that
he would never be exchanged. Resolved to fight to the last, he
led his handful of men towards Salemsville; now advancing, now
retreating, constantly skirmishing with forces far outnumbering
his own. -
The news of Gettysburg had already reached the Confederates,
who were thus fighting for their very lives. It was this tidings
that led Morgan to fear to surrender; for the number of prison-
ers in the hands of the Federals was so much increased that he
suspected the cartel would be broken. He desired, then, to make
special terms before giving himself up, and actually did so, Capt.
Burbeck, a militia officer, receiving his surrender. But the terms
266 Capture and Escape of Morgan.
were repudiated by Gen. Shackleford, who was in command of
the Federal forces in the vicinity of Salemsville, and the prison-
er was treated as if he had made an unconditional surrender of
himself and troops.
The authorities at Cincinnati had already been severely repri-
manded by Secretary-of-War Stanton because Gen. Duke and the
officers captured with him had been sent to Johnson's Island, a
purely military prison, instead of being confined in the Ohio
penitentiary. Gen. Morgan's protests, therefore, against being
subjected to
the indignity
of an incar-
ceration in
sº % 2: the police
}% § * station, were
#ftº
º ſº useless; the
head of the
Department
must be rig-
idly obeyed.
Gen. Rose-
crans having
intimated to
Gov. Tod, of
FIarassed Raiders. Ohio, that
there was no military prison sufficiently secure for the daring
men that had been captured, the civil official proffered the use
of the penitentiary at Columbus, until other provision could be
made. To this building, then, the Confederate officers were con-
veyed; the warden being directed to keep them separate from
the convicts, to provide them with necessities of food and cloth-
ing, and to impose only such restrictions on them as might be
necessary for the sake of security. But it is not our purpose to
trace the daily round of their prison life, nor to explain their
treatment farther than is absolutely necessary for a proper un-
derstanding of their ensuing effort to escape.
The prisoners, sixty-eight in number after the consolidation
of all parties, were confined in the first and second ranges of
cells in the south side of the east wing; the north side, and the
higher ranges of the south, being unoccupied. During the day
they were allowed the liberty of the narrow passage upon which

Capture and Escape of Morgan. 267
their cells opened; but they were required to be in their cells
by 7 o'clock every night, when every door was locked, after the
warden or his deputy had looked in the apartment to see that its
proper occupant was there. --
With such precautions, it appeared almost impossible for them
to escape from a slighter building. But even admitting that they
might be able to deceive the warden and his deputies, how could
they, without tools of any kind, hope to tunnel the stone pave-
ment and the immense walls of the penitentiary 7. It seemed, in-
deed, a hopeless case to most of them ; but one, the same Capt.
Hines who had raided “north of the Cumberland,” and who has
since worn the ermine as the chief justice of Kentucky, had
heard something of a peculiarity in construction which might
render it possible for them to tunnel.
The chief warden, Merion, was a narrow-minded, tyrannical
man, generally disliked by the military prisoners as well as by
the convicts; but among his deputies was one familiarly known
as “old man Heway,” whose many kindnesses and general good-
nature stood out in strong contrast to the petty meannesses of his
chief. To him Capt. Hines addressed himself, hoping to set the
old man on his favorite hobby, and thus find out what he wanted
to know.
“Good-day, Heway; pretty wet weather outside, isn’t it?”
“O, it's very wet weather we’re having this fall, Captain.
You folks in here don’t know how much rain we’ve been
having.”
“That's a fact, we're in out of the wet, sure enough. Indeed,
we don’t suffer from it in any way. The cells are not even
damp.”
“No sir, they’re right dry, they are right dry, sir, every one.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed that there isn’t even any dampness on the
floors of the cells in the first range. That's rather remarkable,
isn’t, it 7”
“Well, I don’t know as it’s so remarkable; it's a well built
edifice, sir. I tell you, sir, this Ohio penitentiary is the best
building in the country, sir. The Capitol at Washington don’t
begin to come up to it; and Westminster Abbey, that the Brit-
ishers make such a darned fuss about, don’t begin to come up
to it. Do you know why the cells in the first range are so dry 7”
“Is it because they have such a thick, cemented floor?”
“Well, the floor is pretty thick—eighteen inches of concrete,
268 Capture and Escape of Morgan.
but the dampness will work through the thickest floor in the
world if it’s laid flat on the ground. There’s an air-chamber
four feet high under the whole wing. That's what keeps it so dry,
sir.”
This was a confirmation of the wildest hopes that the soldier
had dared to entertain ; but he answered, with a careless laugh :
“No wonder we don’t get wet, then. But I reckon we’d all
rather sleep on damp ground as soldiers than be kept so dry as
prisoners.”
“So I suppose, sir, so I suppose,” assented the old man,
nodding good-naturedly as he went on his way to attend to his
duties. **.
Having ascertained this much in regard to the structure of the
building, the next difficulty was to obtain tools with which to
perforate the eighteen-inch concrete floor to the air-chamber.
Their cells were inspected every day, and it would be impossi-
ble to tunnel directly from them without being discovered; but
they could work by relays in the air-chamber, and manage so
carefully that no one man would be absent from the corridor for
any suspicious length of time. The problem of tools was solved
by the abstraction of two knives from the dinner table; more
they dared not take, for fear that the loss would be detected.
The blades, though but small, were keen; and were cut off
square at the end, instead of being rounded or pointed, as are
most table-knives. The shape was intended to make them less
useful than a pointed instrument would be, in case any should
be secreted by prisoners intent upon escape; but they could not
have been better adapted to the purpose, being, to all intents,
excellent chisels. - --
Work was begun in Capt. Hines' cell, under the iron bedstead, .
which could be hung against the wall or let down at pleasure.
The substances removed were put in the stove or concealed in
their beds, and it was not long before there was a hole in the
solid floor large enough to admit a man’s body into the air-
chamber. . A carpet-bag, carelessly thrown down in the corner
of the room, hid the aperture during the day. A single kick at
the valise might have blasted all their hopes, and sent all in the
first range to the dungeons. -
They could make but slow progress until the air-chamber was
reached, for though speed was desirable, it was necessary to
keep the guards in their present state of security. But when it
Capture and Escape of Morgan. - 269
was once possible for the workmen to be out of sight, the work
progressed more rapidly. To prevent all suspicion, each labored
for only an hour at a time; pickets were posted, and an ingeni-
ous system of signals arranged, so that any one who happened
to be below might be speedily recalled to the upper air in case
of being asked for by the officials of the prison.
Among so many, one or two men were hardly likely to be
missed if absent only for an hour—they might be in their cells,
or unobserved in one part of the corridor or exercise ground
while the warden was in another; but once the absence of one
came very near being detected. .
“Where's Capt. Hockersmith ?” inquired one of the turnkeys,
called Scott, or, familiarly, Scotty.
“He’s not at all well, this morning, and is lying down. Are
you in a hurry, Scotty 2 Because if you are not, I’d like to ask
your opinion about this memorial.”
It was Gen. Morgan himself who spoke, and his tone was so
natural in its ease and unconcern that Scotty was completely
taken in. - e
“O, certainly not, General, certainly not. No hurry at all,
sir. What is the memorial, sir?” he asked, very much flatter-
ed at the idea of being thus consulted.
“Its one that I’ve drawn up to send to Washington, regarding
our removal to a military prison. Here it is ; will you be good
enough to look it over?”
The poor deluded Scotty took the paper and looked at it for
a few moments as wisely as an owl looks at the great book of
nature; and gained, perhaps, about the same quantity of inform-
ation. In the meantime, Hockersmith, who, as the reader has al-
ready guessed, was at work in the air-chamber, had been sum-
moned to the upper regions by the appointed signal, and now
made his appearance; and a very sorry and sickly appearance
it was, for he had been warned of the part he was to play.
Scotty gave back the paper, with the sage remark that he thought
it would do, and turned to the sick (?) man without a suspicion
of the..reason why Gen. Morgan had asked his opinion of the
memorial.
But Scotty was destined to render them a real, tangible ser-
vice, rather than to discover the plan of escape. They were
wholly ignorant of the lay of the land immediately around the
walls of the penitentiary, and it was absolutely necessary that
-- *
270 Capture and Escape of Morgan.
they should reconnoiter. To do this at second-hand was impos-
sible, for not only would such questions excite suspicion, but
they could not obtain sufficiently minute information in that
way. Plans were cleverly laid, and Scotty, who was in charge
during the day, was engaged in conversation on a subject of
which he never tired ; being nothing else than the remarkable
escape of two convicts some years before. -
“Yes, sir,” he said to Gen. Morgan, “they climbed up the
railings of the balconies in front of the cells there, and got out
on the roof through the skylight. There ain’t two other men
in the world that could do it, either, sir.”
“O, come, Scotty, you think too highly of the escaped eonvicts.
That wouldn’t be so hard a task for an active man. Why, Capt.
Sam. Taylor, as little as he is, could do it. The trouble in escap-
ing, I should think, was after they got on the roof. At least, I
shouldn't like to try it.”
“Well, if Captain Taylor thinks he can climb up to that sky-
light and git on to the roof, he kin jest try it, that’s all. I’d like
to see it, for my part.”
“Are you in earnest, Scotty?” asked Capt. Taylor, who was
of course, near by ; “may I try it?”
“Yes, try it,” answered the turnkey, doggedly; “but you’ll
not git on to the roof. You’ll find it ain’t so easy as it looks.”
Captain Taylor was a short, slight man, but very strong and
active. No sooner had the desired permission been obtained
than he proceeded to make use of it; and despite Scotty’s assur-
ances of failure, was soon airing himself at the top of the building.
Apparently looking about him only as a man who had been in
close confinement for months would naturally do, he really ob-
tained a very correct idea of the prison surroundings. Of course
not many minutes could be spent thus, and he soon descended;
but he had accomplished all that was desired.
The work went rapidly on; two or three of the immense stones
which formed the wall of the air-chamber were removed, and the
tunneling through the earth began. “Fortune favors the brave,”
and just at the juncture when it was most needed, a rusty spade
came into their possession. The manner of obtaining it was so
characteristic of the whole attempt that we cannot omit the
story. It was early in the morning, and they had passed out
into the yard for the usual ablutions. Two long troughs, filled
with water, were placed along the walls of the court-yard, and
Capture and Escape of Morgan. 271
the men washed at these, first one relay, and then another.
While waiting to wash, there was always a good deal of rough
play, and this morning they were especially sportive—only by
accident, of course. It was equally a matter of chance that one
of them wore a loose sack-coat, though the fact that the spade
was there was discovered before he donned the unusual gar-
Iment.
Strangely enough, in a friendly wrestling match, the wearer
of this coat was thrown by his opponent. He happened to fall
just upon the spade, but when he picked himself up and emerged
from the little group of five or six men that closed around him,
the spade was no longer to be seen. Somehow or other, the
wearer of the sack-coat sat unusually straight and stiff at break-
fast that morning : and he didn’t have a ramrod down his back,
either. **
At any rate, the spade was obtained, and the work progressed
more rapidly. Gen. Duke, in his “History of Morgan’s Caval-
ry,” does not indicate any collusion whatever on the part of the
prison officials; but a more recent writer, who speaks as one
, having authority, asserted boldly that their escape, without any
assistance from others, was utterly impossible. The manner in
which they obtained possession of the very tool most needed
would seem to point to some aid received from those in charge.
Removing the stones from the wall, they tunneled out into
the yard, but met with their first misfortune, coming up directly
, under an immense pile of coal. This necessitated a tunnel in
another direction, and of greater length; so they set to work
manfully, and, in a little more than two weeks after the day
that they began on the floor of Capt. Hines’ cell, the tunnel was
as nearly complete as they dared to make it before the very
night on which it was to be used. The minor preparations, too,
had gone on bravely. A stout hook had been made from a
poker; in some mysterious way, probably by help of others,
they had obtained possession of other knives than the two with
which they had dug through the floor; strong ropes had been
plaited from bed-quilts torn into strips. Finally, since the es-
cape must be made at night, when they were locked into sepa-
rate cells, apertures were made in the ceiling of the air-chamber
- extending so near the upper surface of the concrete that a very
slight blow would be sufficient to make a hole like that already
made in the floor of Capt. Hines’ cell. Through these, each man
272 Capture and Escape of Morgan.
was to drop to the air-chamber beneath, where the party would
unite. S. iº -
There were, as we have said, sixty-eight officers confined at that
time in the penitentiary; but of these, of course, not all could
attempt the escape for which all had worked. Setting aside all
other difficulties which would have attended the getting away of
a large party, there were only about half lodged in the cells in the
first range, from which alone the air-chamber could be reached.
It is touching in the extreme to read how all worked, when they
knew that but few could go ; and that, in all probability, those
who remained behind would pay dearly for the liberty of their
comrades. Seven men were to make the effort; the command-
ing officer, and Captains Hines, Taylor, Hockersmith, Sheldon,
Bennett and McGee. That Gen. Morgan should be one of them
was a matter of course, but why these particular officers should
be selected to accompany him, when men of far higher rank in
tfie army remained behind, is not so easily explained, nor do
the many writers on the subject attempt to give a reason.
The work was completed, and the seven men were only wait-
ing for a favorable opportunity. They must choose a rainy .
night, for in such weather the dogs in the prison yard would
probably keep fast in their kennels, while the guards would be
less watchful. The watched-for rain came at last, and not an
hour too soon, for they had heard rumors that there was to be a
change of military commanders at Columbus. “A new broom
sweeps clean,” and the new commandant might discover their
tunnel. It was on the 27th of November, 1863, when they de-
cided that it was best to wait no longer.
Gen. Morgan’s cell was in the second range, but his brother,
Col. Richard Morgan, was lodged in the lower tier, and it had
long since been arranged that each was to personate the other
on this night. There was a sufficient resemblance between them
to enable them to deceive any one who did not look too closely.
The guard made his round as usual at 7 o’clock, flashing the
light which he carried into each cell, to make sure that it was
occupied, then, locking the door, passed on to the next. At last
this duty was performed; the first part of their plan had suc-
ceeded; he had not detected that Gen. and Col. Morgan had ex-
changed cells. Every two hours he made the rounds, for these .
were important prisoners, and caution was very necessary.
To prevent surprise, the floor of the hall had been carefully
Capture and Escape of Morgan. 273
strewn with small bits of coal; for one of the prison officials was
fond of stealing upon them unawares, his tread being made noise-
less by means of his list slippers. For the third time that night
they heard the footsteps of the guard, crunching the coal, die
away, as he completed the round of the cells and returned to his
post. Then, Capt. Taylor, dropping down into the air-chamber,
gave the appointed signal—a tap beneath the floor of each of the
six cells. In an instant, the thin crust of concrete was broken,
and the rest of the party joined him; each one having left a
dummy in his bed, to deceive the guard as he passed in his rounds.
Once outside the walls of the building in which they had been
confined, there was still another difficulty to surmount; for the
prison-yard was surrounded by a wall twenty-five feet high.
But they were not unprovided with means for getting over this.
The iron hook, before mentioned, was fixed in the coping which
crowned the wall, the rope made of the bed-quilts having been
first attached to one end. They drew themselves up by this
means, and descended by the same rope on the outside of the
walls. But all their efforts to dislodge the hook proved un-
availing, and they were forced to leave that and the rope at-
tached to the wall. --
Whether, with several large, fierce dogs, specially trained for
the purpose of catching prisoners who were attempting to es-
cape, ranging the prison yard, and with two sentinels, fully
armed, who could not be more than a hundred feet away from
them, the obscurity of a stormy night would be sufficient to hide
their efforts, is a question for the reader to decide. Grave doubts
have been thrown upon the many men who had it in their power
to assist the prisoners; but on the other hand, Gen. Duke asserts
that $15, which Gen. Morgan paid for a railway time-table, was
the only money used in effecting their escape. But this very
assertion (on which, be it understood, we wish to cast no suspi-
cion) shows that some help must have been given; that some
one within the prison walls, besides the Confederates there con-
fined, knew of the contemplated attempt to escape. Who pro-
cured the time-table? It was not forwarded by stealth by an
outside friend, or it would have cost them nothing. If it was
furnished by any of the prison officials, how much more did he
do to assist them?
Once having reached the outside of the wall, they separated
into three small parties, Gen. Morgan and Capt. Hines forming
274 Capture and Escape of Morgan.
one. These two went boldly into the ticket office of the Little
Miami Railroad, and bought tickets for Cincinnati. A friendly
wary enough to strike up with a
; Federal officer who
chanced to be traveling
§§ on the same train saved
§ §§ them from all suspicion
§§ | on the part of the train
officials or other passen-
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when they reached the
§ suburbs of Porkopolis;
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sº §§ under the pretext that
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The Escape. prove that the bird had
flown. No effort was spared, now that the most important pris-
oner had escaped, to guard against the others following his
example; the most sensible of the precautions being the remov-



































































































Capture and Escape of Morgan. 275
al of all from the first range of cells. It was the old story—“The
stable-door was shut after the horse got away.”
But though the man had regained his liberty, the charm of his
name was broken ; he was no longer the invincible Morgan, at-
tracting to his standard more men than he could arm and equip,
and striking terror into the hearts of the enemy. The prestige
of success was dimmed by his capture and imprisonment; and
though he rallied his men and prepared for more work like that
already done, he never again rode such a raid as the earlier one
into Kentucky or the later one whose history we have traced.
Indeed, there was not much more time remaining to him; for on
the 4th of September, 1864, less than ten months after his escape,
he fell, pierced to the heart by the bullet of a Federal sharp-
shooter.
18
£HAFTER XXXII
A PERILOUS JOURNEY.
Necessity for the Trip—Volunteers—The Extra Tallow Cans—Running the Batter-
ies—Pursuit—The Obstacles—Useless Efforts—The Fireman's Plan—Oiling the
Track—Pursuit Baffled—Escape—Delivery of the Dispatches.
T was the summer of 1863. The “Rock of Chickamauga” had
I not yet earned the name, but was simply Brig.-Gen. Thomas,
endeavoring to hold his own against the very force of Confeder-
ates he was yet to annihilate. Intrenched upon a spur of the
hills around Chattanooga, the Federal soldiers were exhausted
by hard fighting and long marches. Help must come soon, or
they would be conquered by the Confederates or by starvation.
But from what quarter was help to come 7 Or how was any in-
formation of their danger to penetrate the lines which Bragg was
daily drawing closer and closer around the apparently doomed
force 7
Forty miles to the eastward of the position they held there
was a body of thirty thousand men, commanded by Gen. Stock-
ton. That officer had been ordered to hold a certain pass in the
mountains until further orders, and Gen. Thomas knew him well
enough to know that unless those orders were sent, the pass
would be held. Yet if the danger of the main corps were but
made known to this large detachment, help would come ; other-
wise they would be attacked separately and beaten in detail.
No messenger could elude the wary foe, no force they could
send would be strong enough to defy him and keep the dispatch-
es from his hands. The only practicable plan was to make one
bold dash and carry the message through by sheer speed; pro-
viding, always, the bearers were not killed on the way. The
Confederates, confident of their own strength, had not destroyed
276
A Perilous Journey. 277
the railroad line between the two Federal camps; an engine
might be run through. True, the importance of this road had
not been overlooked by the Rebs, for both sides of the track
were lined with guards; but drowning men catch at straws; and
in the black waters of despair which were surging about them,
the Federals saw no other means of saving themselves.
There were but few engines at Gen. Thomas' disposal, the more
powerful being in the hands of the Confederates; but the best
of these few was selected and made ready for the perilous jour-
ney. An adjutant, Capt.—, was to be the bearer of the dis-
patches. Two of the men, who had left the railroad to volunteer
as soldiers, offered their services as engineer and fireman. No
more were necessary, for an escort could not protect them against
an army, and any superfluous weight it was judged would but re-
tard their speed.
Night was selected as the best time for the purpose, and at half
past ten, on an evening when no moon would betray them to the
enemy as a target, when even the stars were covered by heavy
clouds, they were to set out. They were brave men, but they
shook hands with their comrades and bade them good-by, as if
they never expected to return, and each had left with some con-
fidential friend a letter to be sent if he were not heard from in a
given time. It was better to die thus, however, than to starve
or surrender; and though it was but a chance in a thousand, they
could not afford to lose even that one of saving the army.
“Put in a couple of extra tallow cans, John,” said the engineer
to the fireman, “for we’ll need an extra allowance. She must
make good time on this trip.”
The wisdom of the precaution was seen; such speed as was
necessary would rack the engine terribly if there were not plen-
ty of tallow; and provided with the extra quantity, they mount-
ed to the caboose, the throttle valve was opened, and they moved
off; the noise of the engine the only sound, though the whole
corps was watching. Two miles away lay the first battery; so
much they knew ; but how many more there were, or how many
riflemen were posted along the road, they had no means of tell-
ing. Slowly they moved onward; they were half a mile from
their starting point when a report suddenly broke the stillness
of the night, and a bullet whizzed past them. It was the first
salute from the enemy’s outposts, the first chord in the prelude
to what might be the dead march. *
278 A Perilous Journey.
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A Perilous Journey. scº 279
The ball crashed through the window of the caboose, but fortu-
nately, struck no one. There was but one thing to be done—
the road was too closely guarded for them to slip through; the
Confederates knew that there was an enemy on the track; the
little engine must be put to her utmost speed, that the flying
balls might miss their aim, that she might dash untouched past
unwary gunners. Vain hopel The pressure of steam was in-
creased—the engine bounded along with great leaps, swaying
now to one side, now to the other, but thick and fast came the
whir of the bullets, as the alarm was spread among the watchful
Southerners.
Through the darkness they could see the lights flashing here
and there at a certain point ahead of them—it was the first bat-
tery, and the gunners were making ready for a warm reception
of the three men on the engine. The locomotive thundered by
and the guns belched forth their fire ; a solid shot was followed
by a shower of grape that cut the framework of the caboose al-
most to pieces, but, luckily, struck no vital part of the engine and
missed the men upon her.
The men stood resolutely at their posts, as the shot whistled
around them ; and their only reply was to urge the engine to yet
greater speed. A parting salute from the battery, as they whirl-
ed onward, cut the support of the bell, which was carried, clang-
ing as it was borne onward, into the bushes by the force of the
missile. They were out of the range of that battery; they had in-
deed leaped out of the frying pan, like certain foolish fish; but it
was into the fire. The junction of this road with another was pro-
tected by two batteries, past which they were now to run. This
junction was an important point, and there were a number of
tracks; upon one of which—horrible sight—there was an engine
standing, ready fired up, and headed for the east.
- “Then and there was hurrying to and fro;”
and although the shots from these batteries were not so well
aimed as those previously fired, there was this other, this worse
danger to face. The Confederates rapidly coupled a car to this
engine, and the Federals had hardly passed when the exciting
chase began.
“More fire, John,” cried the engineer, as he saw that the bat-
teries were again ready for action. “Ram her full—it's neck or
nothing with us now.”
But the words were hardly uttered when a cooler or more ex-
280 A Perilous Journey.
perienced gunner took aim, and a shell burst nearly directly
over them. It was a miracle that they escaped; but though the
roof of the caboose was shattered, and the fireman lay wounded
on the floor, the engine was not disabled. His place, however,
was assumed by the officer, and although a shot or two was sent
after them, they were already beyond the range of the batteries,
and the shots spent themselves harmlessly in the air. As they
heard the last one, and knew by the faintness of the report that
they were out of range, the officer heaved a sigh of relief.
“We’re safe now,” he said to his companions; “that is certain-
ly their last battery.” “Yes,” he added, as a bullet whizzed
through the broken windows of the cab, “that is from the pick-
et on this side their camp.”
The engineer looked steadily forward into the night, half
smiling as he thought that that letter need never be sent to tell
that he had died in trying to save his comrades. But the
wounded fireman had raised himself on one arm, and now a groan
burst from his lips.
“Is your wound so bad, John ” asked the engineer, his face
suddenly becoming grave again.
“”Taint that,” replied John, briefly; “it’s worse; they’re fol-
lowing us. Listen l’’
The captain turned to the engineer with a pitying smile on
his lips; surely the poor fellow was delirious with pain. But
the other had turned, startled, to listen ; and he shook his head
gravely in reply.
“It’s true, sir; every word of it; they’ve got out that engine -
at the junction, and are after us.”
“But they cannot overtake us, surely; not even so nearly as
to get within pistol shot. You know the road, don’t you? There
need be no stoppages on that account.”
“Nary stoppage, sir; know this road like a book, for I used
to run an express over it before I volunteered. I know that en-
gine, too, for I was on her for a time. She was just put on a
month or so before I left.” And he shook his head.
“Is it a better engine than this f" asked the captain, his confi-
dence of escape somewhat abated.
“She can make fifty miles an hour without any trouble, and
this one can’t make forty. Then she’s heavier, too, and has a
car attached.”
“That's an advantage for us, though, isn’t it?”
A Perilous Journey. 281
“No, it's on the other side. This one hasn’t anything to bal-
ance her, and if she goes too fast, may leap the track. She’ll
gain on us at the rate of about ten or fifteen miles an hour, un-
less—”
“ Unless what?” -
“Unless we can stop her. But we can’t do that till we get on a
little farther. More fire, sir. We must keep her going as fast
as we dare.”
Not one of the three men thought of surrender as a means of
escape; nothing should prevent the delivery of the dispatches
but the strong hand of death laid upon all of them. They had
been well chosen for the task; they would do or die. Anxious-
ly they looked back at the pursuer; she was indeed gaining up-
on them, rapidly, fearfully. Now the Confederates lost a little
time, as the lighter engine flashed over a long trestle work,
which the heavier one must cross with more caution. The-
flames leaped madly as the fire was being replenished, and the
two dark figures stood out in strong relief against that glowing
background. The pursuing locomotive thundered on with re-
doubled speed when the solid road-bed was once more gained,
and as the tempting target offered itself, more than one bullet
was sent towards it. . .* -
“That’s pretty close,” said the engineer, as one struck the
clock and crashed through the works; “it was meant for me,
but the engine swayed so that no marksman in the world could
be certain of his aim.”
Ten miles more, and the Federals would be so near Stockton's
lines that the Confederates must turn back; but could they make
that ten miles? In the last ten, the pursuing engine had gained
nearly half the distance which had separated them—could they
hold out for ten miles more, or would they be overtaken before
that time 2 Fortunately, the fire was now burning fiercely, and
needed no immediate replenishing; so that any shot must be a
chance one.
“It will be all up with us in five miles more,” said the engi-
neer, as he looked out into the darkness and thought that, after
all, it was well that he had written that letter; it would comfort
“the folks” to have one from him telling them why he had gone
“into the jaws of death.” 4
“Isn’t there anything we can do 7” asked the officer, anxious-
ly, as he glanced backward at the pursuer. The engineer shook
282 A Perilous Journey.
his head, but answered not a word. The case looked desperate.
“Can't you throw something on the track?” suggested the
fireman, from his corner. “There are the firebars.”
“Hurrah, John,” exclaimed the engineer, his face suddenly
lighting up; “that’s the ticket ! Captain, can you climb out on
the truck and drop one across the track It may stop them.”
The officer, with one of the long, heavy rods in his hand,
climbed out upon the truck and carefully dropped the rail across
the track. He regained the cab, and the three men anxiously
awaited the result—listening breathlessly for the terrible crash
which would tell them that a dozen men, perhaps, had been sent
into eternity. They strained their ears to hear—would the
dreadful welcome sound never come to tell them of their own,
of their comrades safety? A clanking noise behind them, then
a crackling of the brush at the roadside—the bar had been lifted
by the cow-catcher and thrown aside into the bushes. The three
men on the foremost engine looked at each other, then each
hastily turned their eyes away again—there was too terrible a
meaning written in the faces of the others for any of them to
read, and not give way.
“It wouldn’t have been so bad,” mused the officer, half aloud,
“to have been shot like soldiers, as we, passed the batteries;
but to be picked off now like y 5 *
“Sometimes something soft will stop an engine quicker than a
bar,” interrupted the hoarse voice of the engineer; “there's my
heavy overcoat, Captain ; suppose you try that.”
The overcoat was dropped upon the track, and once again
they breathlessly awaited the result.
“If it only gets wedged into the piston bar, they may work
all night before they can get it out,” he said, as the officer re-
turned to the cab.
“A single half hour will serve our turn, though; we must be
very near our lines.”
“Not so very near, sir; though a half-hour gained would—she’s
caught, she's caught !” he broke off, as his trained ear caught
the heavy jolting sound and then the noise of the escaping
Steam.
Again they looked at each other, but this time with intense
relief expressed in their faces. The firemen, pale and worn with
the pain of the wound, was the first to lose the look that the engi-
neer’s words had called up, and resume the old expression of
A Perilous Journey. 283
anxiety. His position enabled his ear to catch every vibration.
“It hasn’t caught the piston,” he groaned; “she's after us yet.”
It was but too true, as the thunder of the approaching en-
gine assured them. She was rapidly gaining on them. There
was no hope left, no possibility of escape. A few mo-
ments more and the men crowded into that cab would take
aim, as would their comrades in the car behind them. The
pursuers were steadily, rapidly gaining on the pursued, and the
distance would soon be so short that aim would be sure. Almost
in sight of safety, they were to meet death and failure, as the
vessel founders on the reef that lies just outside the harbor. Be-
fore them lay a heavy grade—they would lose more time than
ever. There was silence in the cab, broken only by the throb-
bings of the engine's mighty heart. The wounded man was the
first to speak.
“William, there's one thing we haven’t tried.”
The two others turned eagerly towards him, their faces mute-
ly asking the question which their dry lips could not utter.
“Have you forgotton the extra tallow you brought along 7”
“The tallow? John, you’ve saved us. Captain, the dispatches
are all right. But how—” he broke off suddenly, and looked
perplexed.
“I can steady her awhile, William,” the wounded man said,
in answer to that look, “if the captain and you can pour it on
the rails.”
He arose and stood before them, pale and weak with pain and
loss of blood, but with the same steady determination in his face
which had been there when they set out; and his comrades felt
that he would do as he had said, though he should die when it
was done. The officer saw that the plan was a good one, for the
others, both practical engineers, approved of it; but he had not
the slightest idea what was to be done, or how anything was to
be accomplished by means of two cans of tallow. There was no
time to question, however, and when the engineer placed one
can in his hand and bade him climb out once more on the tender,
he obeyed as if he had been the private and the other his officer.
“Lean over and pour your tallow on the rail. Don’t waste a
drop, and don’t let a foot go unoiled.”
Still in the dark as to what was to be accomplished, the officer
did as he was bid, while the engineer did the same at the other
side of the track. The viscid fluid ran slowly from the long
284 A Perilous Journey.
curved spouts of the cans, and hardened as it fell on the rails;
for the night was, for the season, cool and damp. At last every
drop had been expended, and the two men crawled back to
the cab.
The pursuers were still gaining upon them, and were already
beginning to take aim. There had been no time for explanation,
and now all three were eagerly waiting to see the result; the
captain all the more anxiously, that he could not imagine what
it would be. Onward came the pursuing engine, seeming to gain
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Oiling the Track.
upon them at every yard; she has reached the oiled portion of
the track, and still bounds forward as before. But it is only the
momentum that has carried her so far. Her speed slackens; the
great driving wheels still turn as rapidly as ever, urged by the
pressure of the steam; but on the oiled track they can make no
progress. Faster and faster they turn, the friction that retarded
them being removed, until with a whirling noise they whiz
around so fast as to become almost invisible; and the steam es-
capes with a shrill scream, like that of a disappointed child.
The forward engine dashes on. The sounds that are heard be-
hind them are sweeter than music in the ears of the three Feder-
als—that noise tells them that they are safe. Still onward, on-

A Perilous Journey. * 285
*
ward, until a shot is fired warningly from in front of them.
“Don’t fire,” shouts the officer, as the engineer stops their
advance; “we are Federals with dispatches from Gen. Thomas.”
“Dismount; one, advance and give the countersign,” answered
the picket, not to be deterred from using the regulation formula
by the irregular nature of their approach. His demands were
complied with, so far as the dismounting and advancing were
concerned; but of course they could not give the countersign.
To the officer in command of the detachment, however, they ex-
plained the circumstances, and were by him conducted to head-
* quarters.
A force of sufficient strength was sent out, and the Confeder-
ates on the locomotive were captured ; but this was, of course,
only incidental. The real result of importance was the march
of this division to the relief of Gen. Thomas' army. But to the
three men who took the perilous journey, it appeared no trifle
that speedy promotion followed as a recognition of the daring
service they had performed.
£HAFTER XXXIII.
A. CRIPPLED MESSENGER.
The Siege of Vicksburg—Caps and Dispatches to be Carried in—Departure—A
Pleasing Sight—Past the Pickets—Loss of Crutch and Horse—A Canoe—On the
River among the Enemy's Gunboats—A Lazy Fisherman–Passing the Feder-
al Guns—Failing Strength—In Wicksburg—Return—Finds a Horse—A Fora-
ger—An Unreliable Guide—A Cautious Enemy—A Lucky Find–Delivers his
Dispatches.
HE highest authority on human character tells us that the
T race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong.
Many are the proofs of the truth of this saying, to be found in
the records of any war; and they are far from being scanty in
the history of the great struggle between the North and the
South. How much of the success achieved by the armies on
either side was due to women, will never be known until all ac-
counts of our mortality are finally settled. Many a man, too,
sick or wounded, did the duty assigned him, and, perhaps, died
in its performance. Not such was the fate of him whose ex-
ploit is our present subject; though he might well have been
excused from duty by reason of disability.
It was when the deadly coils of the Federal army had begun
to wind, serpent-like, about the fair city of Wicksburg, and Gen.
Johnston, outside of the fortifications, more than suspected that
there was but a scanty supply of caps within. Besides, it was
necessary to send a dispatch to Gen. Pemberton, in command
of the beleaguered city. Not an available man could be detailed
for the important service; those who could be intrusted, were
either otherwise employed or were unfit for duty, by reason of
wounds. In this emergency, Lamar Fontaine, a young officer
frequently employed in such hazardous enterprises, but now
unable, by reason of a recently broken leg, to walk without
286
A Crippled Messenger. 287
crutches, volunteered to undertake the perilous journey. Such
was the state of the wounded limb, that in mounting he had to
lift it over the saddle with his right hand.
As the messenger was personally known to the besieged gen-
eral and many members of his staff, Gen. Johnston decided to
send only a verbal dispatch ; which, if the young man chanced
to be captured, would neither add to his danger nor afford in-
formation to the enemy. The caps might be a source of danger,
as their weight of forty pounds would considerably retard the
speed of his horse, and, if taken, he would be marked as a mes-
senger between the two armies. But though he had no inten-
tion of denying his identity or mission in such a case, being cap-
tured was equally far from his expectations.
“Better take this sabre,” said his father, “for its scabbard, be-
ing wooden, will not rattle; and this revolver has never yet
missed fire for me.” k
With a prayer for the success and the safety of his son, and a
strict injunction to him to kill any one of the “jackals”—so he
termed them—that crossed his path or attempted to bar his pro-
gress, the father sent the young man on his way. For a time all * ...º
went well. Crossing Big Black River before night had set in, .2°
he reached a point by the next day between the Federal, liń. §º.
and the division of the army which was at Mechanicsburg. Here
it was unsafe to proceed any farther until the darkness shoºtº šº.
again shelter his movements, and concealing his horse in a
friendly ravine, he hid himself in the thick branches of a fallen
tree near by, his precious burden of caps beside him, his pistol
at his side, and crutches and sabre within easy reach.
The day was not without its diversion, for the tree overlooked
the road, along which were passing columns of Federal troops;
not with the steady and deliberate tread, and orderly appear-
ance which betokened an advance or strategic movement, but
with the haste and confusion which accompany a retreat. He
could only guess what had happened, for the news of the engage-
ment had not yet reached his ears; but this was indubitable proof
of its result.
But at last the columns of Federals had disappeared; the
clouds of dust had settled again to the earth; the last tinge of
red in the western sky had faded to the dull, deep gray which
was beginning to envelop all things; and emerging from his
leafy hiding-place, he hobbled to the ravine where he had left





288 A Crippled Messenger.
his horse, and remounting, was soon on his way again. Though
he was fully aware that the utmost caution would be necessary,
and he used every endeavor to avoid an encounter, the Federal
pickets were so closely posted as to make it impossible for him
entirely to evade them. As he turned into the road from Yazoo
City to Wicksburg, he saw the ominous gleam of their arms in
the fire-light, and heard the command ring out on the still night
3.11 .
“Halt | Who comes there 7”
His noble horse had borne him through many perilous adven-
ºft
$3% ! S & ſºs." - - T -
e; • * - 3s. “Like a shot past the picket.”
tures, and knew overy touch of his rider's hand; it did not need
his one spur, then, to urge the animal onward. As he went past
the picket post like a shot, they could only attempt to halt him
by a volley from their muskets. The bullets whistled over him
and around him, but not one reached the mark for which it was
intended. The horseman rode on unscathed. But just as he
felt himself comparatively safe, his evidently wounded horse
reeled under him. A word of encouragement, a loving pat on
the neck, and the steed with new spirit pressed forward. As he
rode, one of his crutches was caught by the limb of a tree, and

A Crippled Messenger. . 289
as the pickets were still firing, he dared not stop to disentangle
it. He must risk finding another, in some rude shape, or reach-
ing Wicksburg without having use for it.
Wain hope was the latter alternative 1 The renewed strength
of the horse he bestrode was but the last flaring of the flame, be-
fore it goes out forever. He bore his rider onward until the bank
of the Yazoo River was reached; then, with one convulsive gasp
and shudder, fell to the earth, dead. Thus deprived of both
horse and crutch, it was no easy matter for the disabled man to
make any headway, even if he had not been burdened by the
percussion caps. Slowly and painfully, by the aid of the one
crutch still remaining, he made his way down the stream, keep-
ing a sharp lookout, as may well be believed, for anything that
might assist him in getting over the ground.
What was his joy to find, when he had thus followed the course
of the river, a small boat moored at the bank. It was but a log,
hollowed out roughly, but it answered his purpose better, per-
haps, than the most fancifully decorated skiff. Cutting the rope
that tied it to a neighboring tree, he was soon on his way again,
but traveling with much less difficulty than before.
He paddled quietly on, until he saw three Federal gunboats
ascending the river, on their way to Yazoo City. Fortunately,
there was a shelter at hand; some willow trees, but a short dis-
tance below, overhung the stream, the long boughs drooping
down until the leaves at their tips were bathed in the water.
Shooting obliquely across and down the river, he was soon with-
in this leafy covert, where he lay quietly until the black mon-
sters had passed; the men on board never once suspecting that
there was an enemy any nearer than Wicksburg. These, how-
ever, were not the only vessels of the kind to be encountered.
As he approached Snyder's Bluff, he saw the light from the
illumination there spreading far and wide, over land and water;
while the sounds proceeding thence left no doubt that a grand
ball was taking place there. The river below was crowded with
their transports, gunboats and barges. Lying flat in the bottom
of his rude boat, he disposed his blanket so as to cover him com-
pletely, except his head; that no gleam from arms or buttons
might attract the attention of the enemy. Thus covered, the
dark hue of the blanket so nearly approached that of the canoe
that it looked like a piece of innocent driftwood floating past
the Federal vessels. *
290 A Crippled Messenger.
As soon as he was safely out of sight of the Yankees at Sny-
der's Bluff, he began to row, and was soon in the maze of streams
known as the backwater of the Mississippi. But the darkness
which had hitherto befriended him was now anything but an aid;
for he missed the passage from the Yazoo into the Mississippi,
and instead, got into Old River. For some time he tried to find
the way into the bosom of the Father of Waters, but finally, as
day approached, was obliged to give up the effort, and conceal
himself and his boat until night.
But the morning revealed to him, even in his hiding-place, the
mistake that he had made ; and when night once more came, he
paddled into the Mississippi. Here again he must rest upon his
oars, for he must pass forty or fifty transports. As he went by
them, however, he did not attempt the more complete conceal-
ment which had succeeded so well at Snyder's Bluff, and it was
perhaps well that he did not, for a keen-eyed Northern soldier
spied him.
“Hello, you! Where'r you going?”
“Just down here a piece, to look after my fishin’ lines,” drawl-
ed the Confederate lazily.
“Why don’t you row steadily? You’d get there a good deal
sooner.”
“What's the use? The river runs seven miles an hour. I’ll
row up stream.”
The Federal turned to a companion with a contemptuous
laugh at Southern indolence, and the “fisherman” passed on “to
look after his lines,” nor was he again challenged by the enemy.
But of the two methods of passing the vessels he rather prefer-
red the former; and accordingly, as he neared the mortar fleet
in the bend above Wicksburg, he again covered himself with his
blanket, and impersonated the drift-wood. The ruse met with
its former success; and as shell after shell was hurled into the
doomed city, the unsuspicious Federals took no note of the ca-
noe, in which were the percussion caps of which the besieged
had so much need. At last this fleet was, in its turn, safely pass-
ed. Only a little while, now, and he would have accomplished his
mission It was well that he was so near the end of his perilous
journey, for he was nearly exhausted; besides the fatigue inci-
dent to such methods of traveling, there was the anxiety which
he necessarily suffered in regard, not only to his own personal
safety, for that was of comparatively small moment, but to the
A Crippled Messenger. 291
fate of the caps and the message of which he was the bearer;
and his strength was rapidly failing by reason of hunger, for he
had not tasted food for nearly sixty hours.
But relief was soon to come. Just as the first beams of the
morning sun changed the broad waters into a flood of molten
brass, he neared the Confederate picket-boats. Tying his white
handkerchief to a paddle, he with difficulty raised himself to his
feet, and waving it over his head, cried :
“Hurrah for Jeff. Davis and the Southern Confederacy?”
The cheer was answered from the boats and from the shore;
and Capt. Fontaine, nearly fainting from exhaustion, was con-
ducted to Gen. Pemberton’s headquarters. His message was de-
livered, he was relieved of his burden of caps, and ordered to
let a complete rest for the necessary length of time refresh him
after his wearisome journey. A day and a night proved suffi-
cient to recuperate him, and, charged with dispatches from Gen.
Pemberton to Gen. Johnston, he again left the city.
Of course it was impossible to return by the same way as that
by which he had come. Notwithstanding his assurance to the
Federal, he had no mind to row up stream, for that might be-
tray him; he could not row past three fleets as safely as he could
float past them. He accordingly decided to descend the river
still farther, and take to the shore at a point some distance be-
low the city. Passing the Federal fleet south of the town as he
had passed that north of it, he floated so close to their boats that
he could see, through the open port-hole of one, the men play-
ing cards; while divers phrases greeted his ears, such as “I’ll
see that and go ten better;” “I call;” “Three kings and a
pair;” “Confound the luck!” (or something more forcible.)
But at last the ordeal by water was over, and he stepped upon
the land at Diamond Place, some miles below Wicksburg, and on
the same side of the river. Hobbling as best he might over the
bottom lands, he reached the hills, and went to the residence of
an acquaintance, from whom he hoped to obtain a horse. The
Federals, however, had been there before him, and confiscated
everything of the kind but a worn-out gelding and a colt only
half-broken. Of these, he was offered his choice, the owner many
times regretting that his better horses had been obliged to ren-
der their services to the United instead of the Confederate
States. He choso the colt, trusting to his own horsemanship to
complete the process of broaking him in. Fortunately, he had
19
292 A Crippled Messenger.
gone but a short distance on this animal, when he came upon a
fine horse, tied by a blind bridle. The animal was unsaddled;
and as a basket and old bag was lying near by, Capt. Fon-
taine inferred that some negro, attached to a Yankee camp, had
left them there. Exchanging bridles, and saddling the horse,
he turned the colt loose to find his way back to the hills, and
mounted the horse.
As the camp where this animal belonged could not be far dis-
tant, he knew he must exercise some caution, lest he come upon
more Yankees than he cared to meet. Being well acquainted
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Passing the Port-holes.
with the country, he had no trouble in deciding what was prob-
ably the location of the camp, and carefully rode around it. But
he did not succeed in avoiding all the Federals. As he rode
along, a blue-coat, hearing the sound of hoofs, and supposing it
one of his own comrades, advanced from the shelter of the woods
through which he had been making his way along a bridle-path.
The new comer bore unquestionable marks that he had been for-
aging; the said marks consisting of a pair of fat chickens and a
bucket of honey. Planting himself in the road before the horse,
which seemed to recognize him, he began:

- A Crippled Messenger. 293
“Who are you, sir?” . -
“I have no business with you,” replied the Confederate, en
deavoring to urge the horse onward. -
“Where are you going?”
“To attend to my own affairs. Stand aside and let me pass.”
“Are you on military business?”
“Stand aside and let me pass.”
“Are you a soldier?” -
“Oh, go to the devil and ask your questions,” exclaimed the
Confederate, as he pulled the trigger of his revolver and sent a
ball crashing through the brain of the inquisitive forager.
Some caution must be exercised in approaching the next set-
tlement, but he reached it in safety. There he hired a guide
who claimed to be familiar with the state of the country, to pilot
him to Hankerson's Ferry on Big Black River; fifty dollars be-
ing paid for the service. But although the guide professed the
utmost loyalty to the South, his words, somehow, did not have the
genuine ring to them ; perhaps he was too loud in his protesta-
tions of attachment to the Confederacy; at any rate, Capt. Fon-
taine deemed it best not to trust him too far. The man seemed
to be well acquainted with the disposition of the main bodies of
Federals; but of course there might be, at any prominent point
like a ferry, a smaller body temporarily stationed. According-
ly, as they drew near the point at which his services were to
cease, Capt. Fontaine sent him forward to ascertain whether
there were any Yankees about. The guide was no sooner out
of sight than the soldier concealed himself near the appointed
rendezvous, fearing his return with a party of the enemy. He
stayed away a long time—much longer than necessary for the re-
connoissance—and finally came back, alone.
“I couldn’t get back any sooner, Captain, for I wanted to take
a good look, and be sure. There ain’t any Yankees near the
ferry—not a Fed been there for some time, I heard.”
Capt. Fontaine paid the guide, dismissed him, and rode on,
not having the slightest confidence in what had been told him.
When, therefore, the man had disappeared, he turned his horse's
head and went to the northeast, instead of directly to the east.
The event proved that he had grounds for his mistrust of the
guide. The man had occupied his time in hunting up a Federal
officer who would send a guard to the ferry, and a long line of
sentinels had been posted along the river road, to intercept the
294 A Crippled Messenger.
Confederate; while a considerable force (for the capture of one
man) was at the ferry. -
As well assured that this was the case as if it had been de-
scribed to him in so many words, Capt. Fontaine thought, that
by changing his course, he could flank the enemy, and cross the
stream a little higher up. But he somewhat underrated the cau-
tion of the foe, in calculating the probable number of men that
would be sent, and the length of the line of sentinels posted over
the approaches of the river. As he turned into the river road,
there suddenly arose from the bushes, not more than ten feet
away, a blue-coated soldier.
“Halt l” was the order, as the Confederate came tip; and the
answer rang out loud and clear—a pistol-shot. The sentinel fell
forward, dead; and the officer spurred his horse onward up the
river. But the men were closely posted, and a shower of balls
fell around him, whistling by his ears, fanning his cheek and
waving his hair, cutting their way through his clothes, perfor-
ating the wooden scabbard of his sabre, grazing the injured leg,
two even wounding his right hand, but not so seriously as to pre-
vent his using it. The horse was less fortunate; seven bullets
entered his body, and it was with glazing eyes and weakened
limbs that he bore his rider on—on—until he had placed a mile
between the pursuers and the pursued.
Being thus again left without a steed, he determined that it
would be best to swim the river immediately, and trust to his
good fortune to secure a horse on the other side. But for some dis-
tance he limped on with no other support than his crutches.
Fortunately, he was seen by a lady full of enthusiasm for the
South, and she offered him a steed.
“It seems as if it came for you or some one else of our army,”
she said, “for it’s a stray that came here after the Feds had car-
ried off every horse and mule on the place.”
The animal proved to be a good Confederate, for it bore him
safely to Raymond, where he arrived at two o'clock in the morn-
ing. Changing horses here, he proceeded without loss of time
to Jackson, and delivered his dispatches to Gen. Johnston early
in the morning, five days after he had departed upon his peril-
ous errand to the besieged city of Wicksburg.
£Haries XXXIV.
IN THE ENEMY's CAMP.
The Scout's Fate—His Successor—The Errand Stated—Setting Out—Precautions—
A Friendly Greeting—A. Ready-made Disguise—A Guide Provided—The
Countersign—The Sentry Disposed of—A Struggle—A Council of War—An
Uninvited Member—A Wide-awake Sentry—Discovered—“No, You Don't ſ”
—“Tallahassee, Tallahassee!”—The Chase—Escape—The Result.
66 HAT is it?” asked the general of the aid who had en-
V V tered his tent, and who, having duly saluted his su-
perior, stood with soldierly uprightness before him.
“Two of the squads of scouts that were sent out last night have
returned, wounded—”
“Two? There were four sent out, I thought.”
“There were four, sir, but the others were killed.”
« Where 7” * -
“At the lower ford ; they were discovered and chased by a
larger body of the enemy, and these two barely escaped with
their lives.”
“What has caused the delay ? They should have been back
long ago.”
“They were obliged to ride several miles out of their way to
elude the Rebels, who were better mounted; and one of them
was hardly able to sit his horse. He fainted when the excite-
ment of the chase was over, and it was some time before his
comrade could revive him. The two happen to be brothers.”
“Then Mackworth is not one of them 7”
“Mackworth was killed, sir.”
“That's bad; very bad,” answered the general, with knitted
eyebrows; “I don’t know a man who can take his place.”
Be thought a moment, and then asked of the aid :
295
296 In the Bnemy’s Camp.
“Did they place the rockets where they were ordered 7”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did they bring any information in regard to the position or
movements of the enemy?” -
“They did not. It seems that Mackworth posted his men in
the wood this side of the Confederate lines, and advanced alone
and on foot. He had barely rejoined the squad and remounted
when their presence was discovered, the Rebs gave chase, and
in a few minutes he was killed.”
“And his information died with him. Hum ! Send Lieutenant
Ileighton, of the –th Michigan, to me immediately.”
The aid saluted and left the tent to obey the order. In a few
minutes there stood before him a magnificent specimen of man-
hood. The long limbs and well-shaped body showed no ounce
of superfluous flesh; every muscle had been hardened into iron,
while the flash of the dark eye bespoke an intelligence and cour-
age which would not fail in time of need.
They were old acquaintances, and the formality of the camp
was forgotten as the general rose to greet his subordinate, and
the two soldiers stood side by side. &
“Are you still desirous of leaving the artillery for a scout’s
life 7”
“Just as much as ever.”
“Well, I have a mission for you. You are thoroughly ac-
quainted with the surrounding country, are you not?”
“I think I know every by-path,” replied the would-be scout.
“I have relied mainly upon Mackworth for the specially haz-
ardous and important scouting, but he was killed last night. I
want you to take his place.” -
“Mackworth’s 7” asked the lieutenant, in surprise.
“Yes. Do you know where the Sedley Mansion is?”
“The Sedley Mansion? Yes. It’s right in the heart of the
enemy’s camp.” -
“Well, I want you to go there.” --
There was a mingling of surprise and dismay upon the sub-
altern’s face for a moment; and then he answered, calmly :
“Very well, sir,” and stood waiting further orders.
“The attack is to begin, according to my plans, to-morrow
morning at daybreak. I have reason to believe that the Rebels
have heard of this by their spies, and will be prepared for it.
They will mass either at the centre or on the left wing; it is very
In the Enemy's Camp. 297
essential that I should know which. That is what I want you
to discover.”
“Very well, sir,” answered the scout again, as the general
paused. &
“You will go to the enemy's headquarters, ascertain his plans,
and as you return set off rockets, which you will find in a hollow
stump six paces beyond the second milestone from here. Mack-
worth placed them there yesterday. One rocket will mean that
the enemy is massed at the center, two, that his forces are con-
centrated on his left wing. The headquarters are very near the
Sedley Mansion.”
“When am I to go, sir?”
“As soon as the night is sufficiently advanced to make it safe—
say about ten. Report to me again at half-past nine.”
The lieutenant, thus dismissed, saluted and left the tent. Bend-
ing his steps towards his own quarters, he there endeavored to
put his affairs in such order as he could, in case he should meet
with Mackworth’s fate. Be it understood that he was not a cow-
ard; but fully realizing the dangers of the task he had under-
taken, he was determined to go through with it, or perish in the
attempt. A fool or a madman rushes into danger, shutting his
eyes to the consequences; a brave man walks into it, no detail
escaping eye or ear, and accomplishes the end proposed.
Prepared then for either fate, success or death, he presented
himself, at the appointed hour, to Gen. Rosecrans, who, after giv-
ing additional instructions in regard to detail, provided him
with a superb gray horse of excellent mettle. He dashed away
gaily, and before many minutes had passed, saw the block of
granite which he knew to be the second milestone. Dismount-
ing, he sought out the stump designated, and found that the
rockets were all right, ready for the use for which they were in-
tended. Greater care would now be necessary, for he could not
tell just where he might come upon the enemy’s pickets. Short-
ening the chain of his sabre, he bound the scabbard to his knee,
to prevent its clanking; and even wrapped the rowels of his
spurs with strips torn from his handkerchief. It was desirable
that he should keep the road as much as possible, for in that
mountainous country a path which he would strike out for him-
self might prove impassable, and much time be lost thereby.
The new moon now began to shed a faint light over the land-
scape which had hitherto been wrapped in Egyptian darkness.
298 In the Enemy's Camp.
The faintly illumined sky was flecked with ragged clouds, which
every now and then obscured the moon, which at best afforded
but little light. Around him rose, grim with their dark coronets
of pine trees and misty veils, the peaks of the Blue Ridge. Not
a sound stirred the stillness of the night as the solitary scout rode
on, bent low upon the neck of his horse as he crossed the open
spaces, lest he fall by the bullet of some concealed foe; the very
footfalls of his horse upon the thick green sward by the roadside,
made no noise. Again and again his path lay through the woods,
where every tree might be a shelter for an enemy; and as he
glanced first to one side and then to the other, his finger was on
the trigger, his weapon cocked for self-defense.
There is nothing to indicate to him the position of the enemy;
not the glare of a picket-fire illuming the woodland shadows;
not the faint gleam of moonlight reflected from the side of a tent.
This, of course, materially increases his danger; for the enemy’s
pickets cannot be far off, and he must not come upon them un-
3.W 8.1°CS.
Thus cautiously feeling his way he came to the last of the nat-
ural terraces of the elevation on which the Federal troops were
encamped, and began to descend the ravine-like valley. Dangers
thickened around him. Not only was it so dark in this depression
that he could not hope to distinguish any signs of the enemy’s
vicinity, but the surface was harder; his horse's hoofs clattered
along the ground, and now and then struck fire from the pebbles
with which it was strewn. At last the bottom of the ravine is
reached, and he begins to ascend. Suddenly, as he emerges from
the shadows of the trees which clothe the ravine, he sees outlined
darkly against the sombre sky, a group of horsemen.
“Hurry up !” cried one of them impatiently, though in a low
tone. “What makes you come back so slowly 7”
“Did you meet Col. Craig’” inquired a second, without giv-
ing him time to answer the first query.
The truth flashed across him in an instant; they had mistaken
him for a messenger of their own. His first impulse was to per-
sonate the man whom they expected, but this, of course, would
involve him in great difficulties; so he decided to represent
himself as Col. Craig's orderly. All this was decided instan-
taneously, so that the question had hardly died away before the .
answer was ready.
“Your messenger found Col. Craig and reported to him, sir.
In the Enemy's Camp. 299
The colonel sent him to scout a little way down the valley, and
dispatched me, his orderly, to inform you that the enemy ap-
peared to meditate a retreat.”
“Was he certain of their movements?”
“Not quite; he bade me tell Gen. Forrest that he would give
warning by rockets; one, if they retreated, two, if they remain-
ed stationary in their present position.”
“All right. Do you know the way to headquarters?”
“I think so, I was only
there once, and that in the
daytime; but Ireckon I can
find it.”
“Tom, you’d better go
with him to the inner picket
line,” said the officer of the
squad, addressing one of his
men; then, turning to the
self-styled orderly of Col.
Craig, he added: “You’ll
have to leave your horse
there, and climb the rest of
the hill on foot. You’ll see
the Sedley mansion from ||
the top. Just walk towards. *
it, and when you have
reached it, keep on in the
same direction until you
see the camp. You can’t
miss it, even if you’ve never been there.”
Thanking the officer in courteous tones for his advice and the
escort provided, our scout followed the Confederate trooper up
the hill. It was fortunate, indeed, that the guide had been furn-
ished him, for, of course, he did not know the countersign. In
their eagerness to greet the messenger, as we have seen, the
outer pickets had neglected to ask for it; but it was scarcely to
be hoped that the others would be so careless in the performance
of their duty. As it was, the Southern cavalryman preceded
him, and, when challenged in due form, answered:
“Tally—”
The rest of the word was unintelligible to Leighton, though
he had pressed eagerly forward for the express purpose of hear-
Giving the Countersign.

300 In the Enemy's Camp.
ing it. Every word of which he could think, commencing with
the talismanic syllables, was summoned up in review as the pick-
et stood with leveled carbine demanding the countersign, and
was rejected. At last, after what seemed an age of anxious search,
but was really but a moment, he hit upon :
“ Tallahassee l’’ -
It was indeed, the magic word, the “open, sesame,” to the
charmed circle which the pickets formed.
His escort left him, and, alone and on foot, he clambered up
the side of the mountain. Higher, higher still, until the clouds
obscured the valleys below him. At last the landmark, the
Sedley Mansion, was reached, and the camp in sight. Taking his
way to the general’s tent, which was at some distance from the
others, he saw, about a hundred yards from it, a sentry pacing
to and fro. .* -
“Who goes there 7” came the challenge, as he approached.
“A friend.” --
“Advance and give the countersign.” ,
“Tallahassee,” confidently replied the scout. - *.
“That’s for the pickets, not for me,” answered the Confederate,
sternly, as he brought his carbine into position and took aim.
But as quick as thought the Federal had sprung upon him, and
clutched his throat with a grip of iron. The gun dropped from
his hand, and he made an effort to get his bowie-knife. Leigh-
ton dared not use his revolver, dared not strike a blow, unless
it were with a knife, for the slightest noise might alarm a com-
rade of the sentry. The knife at the Confederate’s belt caught
his eye as a gleam of moonlight fell upon the shining blade; his
attention having been directed to it by the efforts which the other
made to get hold of it. It was a struggle of a most desperate
character. The slightest noise would have been fatal to the scout,
but his grip on his antagonist's throat was such that the Confed-
erate had not power to utter a sound. It was literally a man-
to-man fight. So evenly were they matched that they struggled
for some minutes before either could gain the slightest advan-
tage. The Southerner, despairing of being able otherwise to un-
loose that deadly grasp, succeeded in getting a portion of his op-
ponent's right arm between his teeth, and was causing such pain
that the Federal knew he must soon relax his hold; but with a
desperate effort he wrenched the bowie from its place, and drove
it deep, deep, into the heart of the Confederate just as the latter's
In the Enemy's Camp. 301
teeth met in his arm with the grip of a dying bull-dog.
Repressing with some difficulty the exclamation of pain which
rose to his lips, he tossed his cap away from him, and assumed
the broad-brimmed, soft black felt hat which the sentry had
worn, and arrayed himself in the Confederate's overcoat. Drag-
ging the body into the deep shadows near by, he picked up the
fallen musket, and began pacing to and fro, as wide-awake a sen-
try as officer of the guard could wish.
Every turn brought him a little nearer to the tent, until at last
he could hear the voices within it. Then, creeping noiselessly
to the canvas wall, he EHF = Cº-
lifted the edge of the
tent cautiously and peer- B
ed beneath it. The É
whole interior was visi- i
ble, lighted by the cand-
les that stood on the
rude table. Around this
sat a number of Con-
federate officers, evi-
dently forming a coun-
cil of war. Some of them a
were bending over the
map which lay upon the
table, while others ap-
peared to, know the
country perfectly with-
out that aid. For near-
ly an hour he lay there, eagerly drinking in their words; until
at last all their plans for the disposition of their forces were
clear to him. The troops were to be massed on the left wing.
At last, the questions for the consideration of which the coun-
cil had been summoned were all decided, and the officers pre-
pared to disperse. Hastily dropping the edge of the canvas as
they rose and looked around them, he grasped his musket and
ran to the sentry’s beat. When they emerged from the tent, he
was pacing back and forth as leisurely and serenely as if he had
never left his post; as if, indeed, it were the same sentry that
had been posted there.
The officers went to their quarters, one of them passing with-
in a yard of the dead soldier's body; but not one had the slight-
-* cº- a---

302 In the Enemy's Camp.
i.
est suspicion that beneath the sentry's gray overcoat there was
any but a gray uniform. The self-constituted guard continued
to perform his victim's duty, until there was no longer any dan-
ger of immediate discovery if he deserted his post. It was now
two o'clock; it would be five before he could reach the hollow
stump and set off the rockets; no time was to be lost, then, if the
attack was to begin at the break of day. Throwing aside his over-
coat, and replacing the sombrero by his cap, he made for the
point where he had left his horse, mounted, and passed the
inner picket safely by the aid of the countersign.
- Let us return to the
anxious watchers for
the messenger, who had
so eagerly welcomed
Col. Craig's orderly.
The trooper who had
acted as guide had not
long rejoined his com-
rades, when a consider-
able body of men, evi-
dently a reconnoitering
party, approached the
post.
“Why, Colonel,” ex-
claimed the officer, “I
didn’t expect to see you
*::::: back to-night.”
Peering º t/ve Tº * * “Did you think I was
e going to be killed or cap-
tured ?” rejoined the new comer, good humoredly.
“O no, but I understood from your orderly that you had gone
farther down the valley, and intended to watch the enemy all
night.”
“My orderly 7” exclaimed the colonel in surprise.
“Yes, that you sent about a half-hour or so ago, with the mes-
sage that the enemy were either stationary or retreating.”
“I sent no such message—in fact, didn’t send anybody at all.”
“It’s a d-d Yankee trick,” exclaimed a soldier, of quicker
perceptions than the others; who, thus assisted, saw through
the whole ruse. - -
“Never mind, I’ll fix him,” said the picket-officer; “we’ll get
&
*

In the Enemy's Camp. 303
him good; he thinks himself so mighty smart he'll be sure to
come back this way to allay suspicions; d n him, he's got
the countersign, ain’t he, Tom 7” -
“Reckon so—passed the inner picket. I don’t think he heard
me give it, though.”
“Well, it don't make any difference how he got it, for he can't
get past this post any more’n if he didn’t have it.”
Col. Craig and his
men departed, and
the pickets endeav-
ored to possess their
souls in patience un-
til the return of the
“orderly.”
It was full three
o'clock when they
heard the sound of a
horseman’s approach
and challenged him.
‘‘Tallah as see,”
answered the Fed-
eral.
“No, you don’t,
you d-d Yank;
there he goes, boys—
fire ſ”
The word of com-
mand was unneces-
sary, for the men,
angry at having been
so deceived, were in
haste to avenge
themselves on the
deceiver. Besides,
who knew what in-
formation he was
taking to the ene- Firing the Rockets.
my’s camp.
Perceiving that his true character was known, Leighton dash-
ed down the slope, yelling, with an insane force, the counter-
sign—“Tallahassee : Tallahassee!”
-sº
*
EE-->
EE
#EE


304 In the Enemy's Camp.
After him dashed the Confederates, speedily reinforced, for
their shots and cries had alarmed the camp. He himself could
not have told why he repeated, again and again, the word in
which he had trusted, but the same mountain-side that echoed
back the clatter of the horse's hoofs, the clanking of the sabres,
the shots of the carbines, the yells of the pursuers, gave back
the wild, unmeaning cry: -
“Tallahassee 1 Tallahassee l’’ -
At last, favored by his intimate knowledge of the country, he *
skillfully contrived to lose himself in the forest; and as they
sought to regain the lost trail, he dashed onward to the stump.
At last it is reached; the rockets are drawn forth ; one ascends,
long and bright, into the gloomy sky of that proverbial “dark-
est hour just before the dawn;” and even as its brilliancy fades
into the night, another follows it. &
Onward he galloped, but did not reach the camp. The col-
umn was moving forward, and, forgetful of his night’s work, he
fell into his accustomed place and returned toward the Confed-
erate lines. Hurling his forces against the Southern centre,
which had been weakened that the troops might be massed on
the left, Gen. Rosecrans gained the victory of the next day; a
success due mainly to the information furnished by Lieutenant
Leighton, the scout.
* £uarter XXXY.
TEIE INSANITY DODGE.
Necessary Precautions—Have You Seen a Horse—A Second Meeting—A Well
Played Part—An Unsuccessful Search—Delivery of Dispatches.
HEN the Twenty-sixth Indiana was stationed at Sedalia,
Missouri, it became necessary to send dispatches to In-
dependence, some ninety miles distant, near the western bound-
ary of the state. Two privates, Marshall Storey and William
Waters, were selected for the important duty. Their errand
was by no means devoid of danger; for although the regular
Confederate troops had been for some time withdrawn from that
portion of the state, there were bands of soldiery, called by their
enemies guerillas, and by themselves partisans, who, not strong
enough to attack any considerable force, yet caused consider-
able annoyance to the Federals by cutting off such parties as
this one.
In order to avoid such interference with their errand, the two
soldiers had laid aside their uniforms, and assumed citizen’s
clothing. Their dispatches were carefully hidden inside the
linings of their hats, and in the soles of their boots; the sole lin-
ing being carefully pasted down over the flat paper. Their
horses were provided with saddles as unlike that furnished by
the government as could be procured. Thus accoutered, they
set out on their ride, looking for all the world like two well-to-
do young farmers, bound on some distant errand.
They had traveled nearly seventy miles in a time that, to the
dweller in the mountainous regions, would seem incredibly
short; but
“The prairie stretched as smooth as a floor
As far as the eye could see;”
305
306 The Insanity Dodge.
there was nothing to impede their progress over that level,
and seemingly limitless plain. Indeed, it was a little easier than
they could wish for, for they could be seen from a great distance,
and discovery might lead to attack. However, they calmed all
such vain imaginings, and rode on. At last, some twenty miles
from Independence, they entered a grove which bordered the
stream. The underbrush was so thick that they could hardly
force their way through it, along the bridle-path, which, appa-
rently, was but little used. As they pushed their way through,
they were suddenly confronted by five of the enemy, each arm-
ed with a shot-gun.
“What’s your business here?” demanded one who appeared
to be the leader of the squad.
“We’re out looking for a horse that was carried off by the
Home Guards, sir. We heard that it had been brought along
through this part of the country.”
“Where do you live?”
“Six miles north of Boonville.”
“Who are you for 7” was the next demand ; meaning, in the
parlance of the time, “What are your political sentiments 7”
“Well, sir,” was the deliberate answer, “I don’t know that
you’ll find anybody that's stronger Secesh than I am, and my
friend here is of my way of thinking.”
There was a short consultation among the partisans, a strict
watch being meanwhile kept upon the two “farmers.” Then
the result of this council of war was communicated briefly to the
latter; they might be good “Secesh,” but then again they might
not; and their captors thought it best to search them. Resist-
ance was of course worse than useless, and the two messengers
quietly submitted to the search ; though protesting their strong
Southern sympathies, their services already rendered to the
Confederacy, and their intention to join Price as soon as it would
be possible to get to him. All the time, they devoutly hoped
that no evil genius would prompt the Rebs to explore the in-
most recesses of hats and boots. At last, however, the search
was concluded, and the dispatches were not found; their place
of hiding had not even been suspected.
“Sorry to have searched you, gentlemen,” apologized the
leaders, “but the d d Yankees are up to so many tricks that
we can never tell when to believe what a man says.”
The messengers gravely acknowledged the apology, and the
9
The Insanity Dodge. 807
two parties separated. The Federals began to congratulate
themselves upon their lucky escape, with the loss of nothing
more valuable than a number of fish-hooks, which one of them
had chanced to have in his pocket, and which the Butternuts
had appropriated; they would probably reach Independence
unmolested, they said one to the other; for they had already
come five miles from the scene of the encounter with the gueril-
las, and had but fifteen more to go. But even while they were
thus congratulating themselves, a new danger was approaching.
Crossing a neck of woods, they had just emerged upon the open
prairie again when they saw seven horsemen riding toward
them, and heard the command to halt. The new comers were but
fifty yards away.
“I’ll play crazy,” whispered Storey, hurriedly, to his compan-
ion; and you can be my brother taking me home from St.
Tuouis.”
Drawing one eye down in a manner peculiar to himself, his
face assumed a comical expression ; the saliva was allowed to
flow down upon his dusty beard, while the ragged locks of hair
that strayed down nearly into his eyes completed the picture.
As they came nearer, he leaped from his horse and ran toward
them.
“Don’t mind him,” called Waters, as some of the Butternuts
drew their pistols; “he’s crazy as a loon.”
Storey bore out this description by his behavior; with the pe-
culiarly gentle, pitiful smile of a half-witted person, he caressed
their horses, fingered their weapons admiringly, and seemed to
endeavor, in many ways, to win their good graces. The men
looked on him with a sort of good-natured content; he was too
evidently the genuine article for them to entertain any suspi-
cions regarding him, at least. On his companion, however, they
looked with less confidence.
“Where did you come from, and where are you going?” de-
manded the leader.
“I’ve come from St. Louis just now, with my brother, here,”
replied Waters; “he’s been in the Insane Asylum there, but there
wasn’t any use of keeping him shut up, and we hated to have
him so far away in war times. There’s no telling what may hap-
pen.”
Storey had been busily caressing a beautiful black pony, rid-
den by one of the Rebs. He appeared to understand dimly that
20
808 The Insanity Dodge
he was the subject of which his brother was speaking, and look-
ed around upon all present with a vacant smile on his face.
“Where do you live?”
“In Jackson county, just this side of the Kansas border.”
But the more serious part of the proceedings was here stop-
ped, to witness Storey’s performances; after much petting of
the pony, he suddenly left it and went up to his own poor
old horse. The animal, almost broken down, was gravely led
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The Insane Dodge.
up to the rider of the pony, whom the “crazy man” invited to
exchange. The whole proceeding was watched with much in-
terest on the part of the other six.
<< D d if I trade horses with you,” exclaimed the rider of
the pony.
“Just see what he’ll do,” said the captain to the other. The
man somewhat reluctantly dismounted, and Storey, with many
broken exclamations of delight, mounted the pony and was about
to ride off. But the Butternut was not at all willing that the
fun should go any farther at his expense, and running after
Storey, pulled him roughly from the saddle. The better to act
out his assumed character, the Federal turned furiously upon
the other, and was about to fight him. The Confederate retreat-


The Insanity Dodge. A. 309
ed at a somewhat rapid pace to his comrades. After him went
the pretended simple fellow, who grasped a stick as he ran, and
the owner of the pony came dangerously near being belabored.
In the meantime, the sport had palled somewhat, and they had
turned to more serious business. Waters was subjected to what
they called a thorough search, but which was not so thorough as
they supposed, as the dispatches wholly escaped their observa-
tion. Of course it was useless to search a man just released from
the Insane Asylum, and who appeared not to have sense enough
to be intrusted with any secret or anything of importance.
Having made sure that there was nothing contraband about Wa-
ters, they turned to watch, with an appreciative eye, the contest
which Storey was still waging for the possession of the coveted
pony; urging him on to fight very much as they might have in-
cited a game-cock or a bull-dog.
“Don’t provoke him, please,” pleaded the brother; “it only
makes him worse; and he may get so furious there’ll be no do-
ing anything with him. Come, Billy, get on your horse and let's
go home. This is your horse, you know.”
But Billy would not, and it was only by the assistance of one
of the Butternuts that his brother was able to get him away from
the pony, and on his own steed. The Confederates left them to
take their way onward, and rode off in an easterly direction;
frequently looking back to see if the “crazy fellow” had any no-
tion of coming after the pony to which he had taken such a fan-
cy. But with the fickleness of his kind, he seemed to have been
pacified by some of the glowing promises of which his brother
had, even in their presence, been lavish ; at any rate, he seemed
to have given up the idea of getting the animal. Had they known
that when once the two were fairly out of sight, he would brush
his hair from his forehead, and in all other ways lay aside his
insanity, and gallop off at full speed, they might have been even
more sure. But of course, they had no means of knowing this and
the two messengers reached Independence in safety.
gºes XXXVI.
RUNNING THE BLOCKADE.
Why Necessary—“Check” of the Sumter—Usual Precautions—The Alabama's
Trial Trip—The Florida and the Lee—Difficulty about Coal—The Lee Gives
Way—Result of the Generosity—Chased by a Federal Steamer—How the
Speed was Increased—Exciting Race—Evading the Iroquois—The Blockad-
ing Fleet—The Lee's Presence Perceived—A Signal—The Lee Replies—
Blockaders Mystified—The Lee Slips Past.
66 OTTON is King,” cried the Southerners, when their ports
were blockaded by the United States vessels; and it
was said and believed throughout the Confederate States that the
European nations, unable to obtain a sufficient supply of this
necessary article, would interfere to raise the blockade. But
as the War went on, and supplies of cotton were drawn from In-
dia and Egypt, and a triple amount of flax planted, they began
to see that if others would not raise it, they at least must run
the blockade; and many were the valuable cargoes thus brought
to the Confederate ports. One, of especial value to the Govern-
ment, consisted almost wholly of munitions of war, two immense
guns being a portion of it. It was estimated that the arms were
worth $8,000,000, but, really, money could not express their im-
portance. That cargo was on board the Sumter, and was run in by
pure “cheek.” Making for the port of Wilmington, the Sum-
ter, well known to the five or six blockaders at that station
there, ran up the Federal flag and passed at short range in broad
daylight. The cool impudence of the Confederate craft so took
the blockaders aback that not a shot was fired, until she was out
of range.
But this was an instance unique, probably, in the history of
blockade-running. Ordinarily, every precaution was taken to
310
Running the Blockade. 311
avoid being seen; the amount of smoke, the color and shape of
the vessel must be considered; the pilot must be a skillful one,
and officers and men must be ready to run risks which would have
astonished many a soldier. Then, too, the weather must be favor-
able. This, of course, did not mean what is ordinarily understood
by the words; the night must be dark; and if stormy, so much the
better. But after a year or so had been passed by the Federals
in watching for the runners, they became extra vigilant in such
weather; the Confederates took the hint when it had been given
once or twice, and started out any night, be it fair or foul, that.
suited their convenience.
The vessels intended for the purpose were, of course, built
abroad; most, if not all of them in Great Britain. Considerable
strategy was required to get possession of such a craft, for the
TJnited States vessels kept a strict watch over ports which were
suspected of affording shelter or assistance to the Rebels. Such
were the circumstances under which Captain Semmes obtained
possession of the famous Alabama. His first vessel while in the
service of the Confederacy, the renowned Sumter, was disabled;
the Alabama, as it was afterwards called, was contracted for
with an English ship-builder, but he feared the remonstrances of
the United States consul. The newly completed vessel was sent
out on her trial trip, having on board many passengers who ex-
pected a pleasant little excursion ; a tug, of course, accompanied
her, as is usual on such occasions. No sooner, however, were
the two vessels a maritime league from land (that being the
boundary line of the neutrality they were bound to respect)
than the excursionists were transferred to the tug, which steam-
ed back to land with them; while the Alabama entered upon
the career which was only terminated when she was destroyed
by the Kearsarge.
After many experiments, it was found that the best color for
the runners was a light bluish gray; and everything visible on
the vessel was painted the same shade, so that the whole thing,
at a comparatively short distance, had a misty appearance, look-
ing very much like a bank of light clouds. The hull, very often,
lay low in the water; the Palmetto State so low that in the con-
test with the Mercedita, the Federal guns could not be depress-
ed sufficiently to reach her. Another point to be considered was
how to avoid sending out huge clouds of smoke as they steamed
along. Anthracite coal was unobtainable, as the United States
312 Running the Blockade.
Government had forbidden the export of it; and the only coal
that approached it in this respect was a kind found in Wales,
that was far inferior; but still, much better than the bituminous.
It was in the latter part of the summer of 1863 that the story
which we are about to relate should be dated. It must be borne
in mind that the Confederate States vessels were of two classes,
the cruisers and the blockade-runners. While the latter per-
formed invaluable services in bringing in the supplies of which
they were so much in need, the former preyed upon the com-
merce of the Northern States. One was as necessary as the
other; so that when the cruiser Florida and the blockade-run-
ner Robert E. Lee arrived at St. George’s, a favorite port in the
Bermudas, and found only coal enough for one, Capt. Wilkin-
son, of the Lee, cheerfully gave way to the man-of-war.
But the blockade-runner could ill afford to wait two weeks for
the next favorable stage of the moon; and the only other alter-
native was to leave at once. While the officers were wondering
where they could get enough coal, the engineer made a discov-
ery—there was a large heap on one of the wharves rented by
the Confederate agent. True, it was covered with refuse and
trampled down until it looked but little like coal; but just under
the forbidding surface they found it in better condition than
the first appearance promised. Coaling the vessel, then, with as
little delay as possible, they prepared for the trip to Wilming-
ton.
They had a little of the Welsh coal in the bunkers, but half
must be saved for the next outward voyage as they evaded the
blockading fleet; so that this other fuel, smoke-producer as it
was, must be used on the rest of the trip. Let us see the result
of the haste in getting away and the generosity towards the
Florida. ©
It was the night of July 15th, 1863, that the Lee set sail for
Nassau, her smoke-stacks emitting heavy black clouds as she
steamed away. The night passed, and morning dawned, bright
and cloudless. But for the smoke which floated over her, and
the curling of the water around her sides, the blockade-runner
might have been “a painted ship upon a painted ocean ’’—both
being colored the same tint. It was barely sunrise when the
lookout gave the alarm, “Sail, hol”
“Where away ?”
“Right astern, sir, and in chase.”
Running the Blockade. 313
The captain found, by his own observation, that the royal of
the chaser was just visible; but in half an hour's time the top-
gallant was descried above the horizon; and the fact appeared
that she was steadily gaining upon them. There could be but
one explanation of the case; the pursuer was certainly a United
States man-of-war, and were they taken, the Lee would suffer the
fate which the Alabama and Florida had inflicted on so many
TJnited States merchantmen. Yet, if both vessels maintained the
same rate of speed, the Lee would be overtaken by noon. Every
effort, then, must be made to increase their own or failing that
to diminish the speed of the Federal.
The first order given was to throw overboard the deck-load of
cotton. The engineer was then directed to make more steam, but
protested that it was impossible; for the coal was so full of slate
and dirt that even when the furnaces were crammed there was
comparatively little heat. There was but one thing to be done,
then. The Yankee had every sail spread, and the wind was in
such a quarter (north-and-east) that the canvas was a material
assistance to her in the chase. The Lee had been headed east-
by-south, but was now edged away so as to bring the wind aft.
As they were outstripping the wind in speed, the canvas be-
came worse than useless, and the Federal soon clewed up and
furled all sail. Still she gained upon the Lee. The case was
growing desperate.
“Ask Mr. S. (the chief engineer) to come on deck,” ordered
the captain.
The engineer, a brisk, black-eyed little Frenchman, speedily
made his appearance and saluted the officer.
“Mr. S., we must have more steam,” the captain announced.
“Can’t get up any more, sir; the coal is too bad.”
“There’s plenty of cotton on board, and thirty or forty
barrels of turpentine on deck; suppose you try that as fuel.”
So the cotton was saturated with spirits of turpentine, and
fed in liberal quantities to the furnaces. In a few moments
the result was reported to the captain ; as much steam could
be made as the strength of the machinery would permit to be
used.
“Wait a moment, Mr. S.,” said the commander to the en-
gineer, “and let me see how she is going. I’ll have the log
hove. I’ll heave it myself.”
“Nine and a half knots; let her go, now, sir,” was the result
814 Running the Blockade.
and order, a moment afterward. Five minutes later, the speed
was again measured—thirteen and a quarter. The chaser, bare-
ly discernible above the horizon at day-break, had gained on
them so rapidly that they could see the white foam gliston in the
sunlight as it curled under her bows. Even with the new fuel,
the Lee could do little more than hold her own, and the result
promised to verify the old proverb that a stern chase is a long
chase.
All the long summer afternoon the race was kept up, the Con-
federate gaining slowly, but surely, on the Iroquois, as they af.
terward found was the name of the Yankee. It was six o'clock
when the chief engineer again came on deck.
“Why, Mr. S.,” exclaimed the captain, as soon as he caught
sight of the subordinate’s face, “what has happened? Any part
of the machinery injured.”
“The burnt cotton has choked the flues, sir,” was the reply,
“and the steam is running down.”
“Keep her going until dark, can’t you? If you can, we may
be able to give the Yankee the slip after all. And you know that
that gold of the Government’s oughtn't to fall into the enemy's
hands.”
“I’ll do my best, sir; but it will not be possible to keep her
going much longer,” answered the engineer.
But when sunset came, the Iroquois was gaining upon the
Lee slowly, but steadily. The light grew dimmer and dimmer;
and when it was nearly dark, an officer, glass in hand, was sta-
tioned on each wheelhouse, with orders to report the instant he
lost sight of the enemy. The engineer was directed to make as
thick and black a smoke as possible, but to be ready to shut it
off completely at a moment’s notice. As the night closed around
them, the report was made simultaneously by the two officers
that the enemy had ceased to be visible.
“Close the dampers I” the captain shouted down the speak-
ing-tube. The order was instantly complied with. At the same
moment, he caused the course of the vessel to be altered eight
points, thus heading her in a direction at right angles with that
of the smoke which still streamed along her late course. Cer-
tainly, the Iroquois had no means of knowing the change, and
sailed straight onward. Just when the Federal officers became
aware that they were chasing nothing in particular, does not ap-
pear. The whole affair is probably entered very briefly in the
Running the Blockade. 815
log of that vessel, from motives of great modesty.
As for the Lee, the stratagem of her commander was success-
ful, and though, for fear of the Iroquois, he dared not sail straight
for the first port he had intended to make, she successfully ac-
complished the voyage; and although somewhat delayed by
taking this roundabout course, she arrived safe off Wilmington.
The fires had been so hot that the timbers of the bridge almost
blistered the feet through the soles of the shoes; a longer chase,
and the vessel might have been burned in the effort to escape.
Not only did the Lee evade her pursuer in this way, but she
saved for the Government the considerable amount of gold
which was on board; yet at one time the chase was so close that
the commander caused one of the kegs to be opened, intending
since the capture seemed inevitable, to distribute the precious
contents among the officers and men. But the coin was resery-
ed to purchase munitions of war for the Confederacy.
So much for the danger threatened upon the high seas. As
the Confederate neared Wilmington, there was still another
peril to be encountered, the real running of the blockade. On
nights such as this, dark and starless, the watch on board the ,
blockading vessels was especially strict. Lying low in the water,
and painted the color of mist, there was no point on the block-
ade-runner on which the eye could fix. Even when the drifting
clouds, then, left the face of the heavens somewhat clearer than
before, there was but little danger. Still, the utmost caution
was observed, the strictest orders had been given. An order
spoken too loudly might betray them. The penalty of lighting
a flame in an exposed position was death; for, once, the light-
ing of a match by an inveterate smoker on board a blockade-run-
ner had revealed the presence of the vessel to the enemy.
Yet, spite of all the precautions adopted, the Lee was perceiv-
ed by one vessel of the blockading fleet. This was made appar-
ent to the Confederates by the signal given to her companions.
A long line of sparks arose suddenly upon the dark sky of the
summer night, ending with a flash of light. But Capt. Wilkin-
son was ready for them; he hād seen that signal before; and the
rocket sent up by the Federal was answered instantly by one
from the Confederate. The United States officers, knowing that
the reply must have come from one of the vessels of the blockad-
ing fleet, looked in vain for the enemy, whose presence had thus
been announced; and while they were conducting this search, at
316 Running the Blockade.
** *
imminent risk from each others’ guns, the Lee slipped quietly
past them into the haven of safety—the harbor of Wilmington.
£H AFTER XXXVI j.
A LEAP FOR LIFE.
A Tempting Sight—Busy as Bees—The Bees are Scattered—He Fears their Sting
—Pursued—On the Edge of a Precipice—The Pursuers Draw Near—The
Leap—The Scent is Lost.
W W THEN Gen. Rosecrans was advancing upon Chattanooga,
Corporal James Pike, of the Fourth Ohio Cavalry, who
had been frequently employed as a scout, was dispatched by
Gen. Stanley to ascertain whether or not certain steamboats
were on the Hiawassee, and where they were. The earlier part
of this trip was without events of great interest, and may be
passed over by the narrator without risking any loss to the
story. It is only when Pike ascends Cumberland Mountain, and
looks down upon the famous gap, that his trip becomes full of
interest, in the adventures with which, from that point onward,
it is accompanied.
Looking down from this point of vantage, he soon discovered
a force of Confederates busily occupied in blockading the gap ;
their object being to delay any Federal troops that might at-
tempt the passage of it so long as to give timely warning of such
approach, and enable the Southern forces in the neighborhood
to assemble and fall upon them. This was not to be endured, and
the corporal resolved to stop it at once. Of course, being alone, he
could not venture openly to attack, for besides the fifty or more ne-
groes who were at work there, there was a force of about twenty
Confederate soldiers, guarding the pass and “bossing the job,”
generally. Stratagem must of course be resorted to. Firing his
revolver at the officer in command of the force, his shot took
effect upon the horse rather than the rider. But this was enough
to unhorse the officer and create great confusion in his command.
317
3.18 A Leap for Liſ.
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A Leap for Life.



















- A Leap for Life. 319
Firing a second time, Pike called outloudly and authoritatively:
“Go back and tell the regiment to hurry up.”
Another shot followed this command addressed to nobody in
particular, and then the similar order, given with appropriate
gestures towards the opposite ridge and the force in the gap
below:
“Lead your men down quickly and close with the Rebels.”
Then, as the Confederates made as if they would defend them-
selves:
“Hurrah, boys, we’ll surround them,” with another shot.
As the horsemen heard this confident assurance, they retreat-
ed in great disorder; certain that nothing else could save them
from actually being surrounded and captured. The negroes fol-
lowed them, with less speed, it is true, for they were on foot, but
with even greater terror. It may well be believed that Pike lost
no time in retreating in still another direction; perhaps he went
to “hurry up the regiment.” At any rate he journeyed along the
ridge at a rapid rate, satisfied with the delay which he had pro-
duced in the work of the enemy, and now intent only on perform-
ing the errand on which he had been sent.
But the Confederates found out the trick which had been play-
ed upon them when they perceived that they were not pursued;
and, naturally enough, they resented the imposition. The next
thing to be done, was of course to pursue and capture the Yankee
who had tricked them. A force was therefore sent out for that
purpose. How many of the Federals there might be, they did
not know; certainly not more than four or five ; a force of ten
troopers, then, was judged amply sufficient for the purpose. For
some reason—whether they did not start until the next morning
or whether they had lost time on the road, cannot be told—it was
not until nine o’clock on the morning after the trick was played
that they caught sight of him. He saw them first, however, and
tried to avoid them by running far out upon a spur of the eleva-
tion from which the sides descended almost perpendicularly.
The spur was clothed with trees, and he hoped that these might
hide him from the advancing enemy; but they were so scattered
that dodge, as he might from one sheltering trunk to another,
the Confederates caught sight of him.
TJp the steep hill he ran at his utmost speed when once he saw
that he was discovered. Fortunately, he was on foot while his
pursuers were mounted, and he hoped that they would not be
320 A Leap for Life.
able to follow him up the rugged ascent. But their horses were
foaled in the mountainous region, and trained to go up and down
hills where others of their kind would hardly venture. Nearer
and nearer they came, as he retreated to the verge of the eleva-
tion. Some mighty convulsion of nature had rent the solid rock
apart, and left, yawning at his very feet, a descent of nearly
three hundred feet into the gorge beneath. Turning aside, he
found a path, steep and rugged indeed, but more practicable than
the precipice. Down this he ran, only to check himself on the
the verge of another descent. The hill had been torn asunder
here, and between the cliffon which he stood and the one which
he must gain if he was to escape, there was a ravine or gorge,
nearly two hundred feet deep. A desperate man would have
plunged downward, to be dashed to pieces against the rocky
sides, only imperfectly clothed with the hardy mountain plants;
but Corporal Pike was not desperate. He had a hearty desire
to live, although his chosen duties gave but little token of it;
and if he wished to live, he must leap that ravine.
Nearer and nearer came the pursuing Confederates; the clatter
of the horse's hoofs on the stony hill-side behind him was plainly
to be heard. He measured with his eye the distance from where
he stood to the huge hickory tree that grew upon that other pro-
montory. His rifle was slung on his back, and his arms were en-
tirely free. Walking back a few steps to gain headway, and gath-
ering all his strength and agility, with a rush he made the leap.
His arms clasped as with a death-grip the trunk of the tree;
there he clung for a moment to recover himself for what was to
follow. He gradually relaxed his hold upon the trunk, and slid
down the mountain side to another “shelf,” whence a rugged and
almost unnoticeable path allowed him to descend to the ravine
beneath. His arms and breast were torn and bleeding, as a re-
sult of the close embrace of the tree; the sudden contact with
the rough bark had torn his clothes and his skin.
The Confederates who had not witnessed the leap, were at a
loss to know what had become of their chase. Not once guessing
at the true manner of his escape, they spent much time in search-
ing every place, capable of concealing a man, along the route
they had taken. While they were thus engaged, the object
of their search was quietly wending his way towards the house
of a Union man, to get rested and clothed for the farther pros-
ecution of his journey. Thither we need not follow him, nor
- A Leap for Life. 321
need we trace his steps as he discovered the position of the
steamboats, and returned to report to Gen. Stanley; for the inter-
est dies away when he is no longer at close quarters with the
enemy.
£HAFTER XXXVIII.
A DARING CAPTURE.
The Prince George Cavalry—An Enterprise of Privates—Betrayed by a Dog—
The Arrest—To McClellan's or Lee's Headquarters?—The Captors Prefer to
Go to Lee's—Effect on the Crew.
T was Friday, July 25th, 1862. The James River was, for a
long distance, thronged with the vessels belonging to the
United States Government. On the northern shore was Gen.
McClellan’s camp; south of the river were the Confederate forces.
It was a tempting sight, that array of vessels, to certain adven-
turous cavalrymen of the latter army, who had been for some
days wishing for something more exciting than lounging about
camp or going out on picket duty. Before long a fertile brain
had conceived a plan which was soon arranged, and about one
o'clock that night five troopers of the Prince George Cavalry
entered a boat and pulled off from Coggins' Point.
There were no military sounding titles or glittering epaulets
to distinguish these men; so far from wearing the velvet collar
and brass stars of a colonel, there was not a shoulder-strap
among them ; the one officer wore simply a corporal’s chevron
on his sleeve ; the others were distinguished by the honorable
initials, “H. P.”—High Private. Nor was their vessel a large
one; neither steam launch nor more pretentious vessel, it was
by rowing that it must be propelled to the objective point.
This was a schooner of one hundred and sixty-three tons, load-
ed with corn and provisions, and valued at eight thousand dollars,
exclusive of her cargo. She was called the Louisa Rives, was
owned in New York, and commanded by Capt. John A. Jones.
Of course our five troopers were not thus minutely informed
regarding the vessel ; they only knew that she was nearly new,
* 322
A Daring Capture. 323
and that her cargo was valuable to the enemy. Just why this
particular schooner should have been selected for their attempt,
when two hundred other steam and sailing vessels of various
kinds lay at anchor around her, is not easily determined. The
fact remains, the reason is forgotten.
In accordance with the plans laid before setting out, one of the
privates, Thomas Martin, was to act as leader, Corporal Cocke
remaining in the background with the others, Daniel, Dimitry
and Williams. Pulling off from the shore, they reached the Rives
and were about to board her with the same quietness, when the
alarm was given by means of a little dog. No watch of any
account was kept, being thought unnecessary, since there were
two gunboats not more than a hundred yards away. The
dog barked furiously, however; and although the Confederates
endeavored to silence him in the river, he danced around at a
safe distance, snarling and snapping and barking as only an
abominable little black-and-tan can do ; keeping out of reach of
the strangers.
His noise did all that he hoped and the Confederates feared;
for the captain came on deck in a few moments, and in surly
tones demanded of them :
“What in the devil do you want here at this time of night?”
“This is Captain Jones?” inquired Martin, saluting.
“It is,” replied the officer.
“At Gen. McClellan's order, sir, I have come to effect your
arrest,” rejoined the Confederate, in a tone which blended re-
gret with dignity and firmness.
“You must be mistaken, sir,” returned the surprised sailor.
“You are Captain Jones, of the Louisa Rives, I believe.”
“I am, but I have done nothing to merit arrest. What are the
charges against me?”
“I am not here to decide upon the question of your guilt or in-
nocence, or to prefer charges. I am sent simply to arrest you.
I am ordered to do so by Gen. McClellan; and if you are really
innocent of whatever charges may have been brought against
you, you will be glad to have an opportunity of clearing your-
self,” rejoined the supposed emissary of the Federal command-
er-in-chief, in a grave but friendly tone. The argument seemed
to impress the sailor, who signified his readiness to go with
them; and as he seemed to have no idea of resisting or attempt-
ing to escape, they did not secure him in any way; but allowed
21
324 A Daring Capture.
him to descend, untied, into the boat, where he seated himself.
While this conversation was being carried on between Martin
and the Captain, the other four Confederates had reached the
cabin of the vessel. There was no one there, the officers, except
the captain, and the most of the crew having gone on shore. A
straw bed, found in one of the state rooms, was ripped open, a
match set to its contents, and the cabin door closed and fastened,
so that the flames must spread without chance of interference
from without. This duty performed, they were ready to leave
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Boarding the Vessel
the vessel as soon as Martin and the prisoner; and entered the
boat along with them. There was no effort made to secure the
crew, for their boat was so small that the six men already in it
made an ample load. Even the weight of these few sunk her dan-
gerously near to a hole near the top of one side.
Having accomplished their object, and knowing that much
now depended on speed, they pulled off in all haste from beside
the Rives; but it was, of course, towards the southern and not
the northern shore of the stream that they directed their course.
The captain noticed this, and his suspicions were aroused.
“Gen. McClellan’s headquarters are not that side of the
river,” he remarked to Martin, whom he supposed to be the

A Daring Capture. 325
officer in command, from the leading part he had taken.
“No,” replied that individual, carelessly, “but you needn’t
worry; we know what we’re about ; only we’ve changed our
minds, you see, and concluded to take you to a Confederate
general’s headquarters, instead of a Federal.”
“My God l’exclaimed the prisoner, as he heard his worst
fears confirmed; “what are you going to do with me, anyhow 7”
“Don’t be worried, sir; you’ll not be hurt; but as you are
engaged in the service of the Lincoln Government, you see,
your capture is strictly legitimate, and you are a prisoner of war.
Of course, you will be treated as such.”
“If I’d seen you come from the southern shore I’d have seen
you d-d before I’d have surrendered,” rejoined he, greatly
chagrined. “I had a watch stationed on that side, but didn't
suppose it would be necessary right opposite the gunboats. I
had plenty of arms on board.”
“Well,” answered Martin, with secret satisfaction, “we made
allowance for all that, Captain; we thought you wouldn’t expect
danger from that quarter, or we would not have taken the trouble
to row to the other side of your vessel.”
“Hang it,” growled one of the Confederates to his neighbors,
“I don’t believe she is going to burn at all. Look at her, will
you? There isn’t a light anywhere about her but the lamp in
the rigging.”
“It does look like it,” returned the man addressed; “but it
seems hardly possible that the straw shouldn’t have kindled the
flame.”
By this time they had reached the shore; and landing, ascend-
ed the bank. As they turned to look behind them upon the
dangers they had dared for such a trifling result as the capture
of a single prisoner, they saw that this was not all; the flames,
smothered in the cabin while they were crossing the river, had
suddenly burst forth in all their fury; the more ungovernable
because, so long confined, every timber of the vessel had been
thoroughly heated. From bow to stern surged the fiery waves,
while here and there the spray dashed up into the rigging. A
ship of flame, she stood out against the dark blue sky of the
summer night, casting a weird, unearthly radiance upon the dark
waters around her, upon the white tents on the shore, and even
upon the sombre trees beyond. The gunboats and transports,
meantime, crowded on steam, in the effort to get to a safe dis-
\rrº ar. ..
886 A Daring Capture.
tance from the burning schooner; and hither and thither, on the
decks of the sailing vessels, ran the sailors making every effort
to escape sharing in her fate.
Lamenting that their force was too small for them to have
done any more, since the other vessels were too dangerously
near gunboats, the Confederates pushed onward to camp, their
prisoner being conveyed the next day to Petersburg, where he
was confined until removed to Richmond. So ended a most dar-
ing attempt, in which five men penetrated into the very midst
of the enemy’s fleet, carried off the commanding officer and
burned one of the vessels, escaping not only unscathed, but not
even fired upon by one of the many armed vessels lying within
a few hundred yards of the fated schooner.
£Harres XXXIX
CAPTURING A PAYMASTER.
Unreliable Information—Fortress Monroe—The Approach of the Paymaster’s
Boat—The Collision—Effect of the Shell—Picking up the Crew—The Spoils
—The Return.
66 OUR informants are two ladies, you say ?” asked the
General.
“Yes, sir,” answered the aid.
“How did they get their information?” was the next question.
“They came from Norfolk with a flag of truce. I suppose it is
generally known there. They appeared somewhat reticent as to
the source of the information in all its details, but assured me
positively that it was reliable.”
“H’m Well, I will not withhold the permission to go, but I
do not think it is wise to put much confidence in such intelli-
gence. The women are likely to have been deceived themselves,
and may be making a mountain out of a molehill; but you can
try it, if you wish. It’s a legitimate act, to intercept stores of
any kind belonging to the enemy.”
The speakers were Maj.-Gen. Wool and one of his aids, Cap-
tain Spencer; and as may be inferred from the conversation giv-
en, the subordinate officer had asked to be allowed to act on
some information which had reached him privately. This was
nothing else than the news that at midnight of that very night.
there would leave Norfolk a six-oared boat, laden with money to
pay the Confederate soldiers in and around Richmond. Having
won the consent of his chief, however reluctantly given, Capt.
Spencer made preparations for an expedition to intercept the
treasure expedition. A suitable boat was procured, and two re-
liable oarsmen found. The oars were muffled, that they might ap-
$2.7
328 Capturing a Paymaster.
proach without being perceived; and when dark they set out.
“Pull directly for the boat, men, when you hear her coming,
and at the instant she is struck, back water,” he ordered as they
pulled off from Fortress Monroe.
The boat was heard approaching soon after midnight; and
Captain Sponcer's boat was rowed towards her. He stood in the
bows, with a nine-inch shell in his hand. Silently through the
darkness the one boat advanced toward the course of the other.
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The rowers in the larger of the little vessels bent to their oars,
intent upon reaching their destination as soon as possible; for
traveling on the James was dangerous in those days, as they were
soon to learn to their cost. Nearer and nearer they drew to-
gether; the men in one all unconscious, those in the other anx-
iously awaiting the meeting.
The bow struck the Confederate full in the side; and before
the startled guard had time to learn the cause of the shock, Cap-
tain Spencer had thrown the shell, and his oarsmen had backed
water. The retreat was just in time, for the bomb fell into the
very middle of the Confederate boat and there exploded. For
a moment all was enveloped in a blinding spray that, added to
the darkness of the night, permitted nothing to be distinguish-




























* Capturing a Paymaster. 329
º A
ed. As this fell like rain into the water, they could see the ex-
ecution that it had done. But in the meantime the Confederates
had not been idle. The approach of the Federal boat was en-
tirely unsuspected up to the very moment of the collision; but
although they did not know the number or character of their
assailants, the intention was quite plain; they were ready with
their pistols, and five bullets or more were sent after the retreat-
ing boat. Whether the aim was exceptionally good or whether
it was a mere chance, two of these balls passed through Capt.
Spencer's cap and three through his coat.
But the shell had done its work. Exploding as it fell, it had
rent the timbers asunder, and the Confederates were struggling
in the water, scattered far and wide. Weighted down by their
heavy clothes, it was impossible for them to swim to shore.
Captain Spencer demanded that ‘hey should surrender and
submit quietly, or he would leave them to their fate. One after
another they gave up the struggle with the icy water, and sur-
rendered themselves. As his force was so small that he had no
means of guarding prisoners, he handcuffed each one, after dis-
arming him; for prisoners, in such cases, were only too apt to
possess themselves of the arms, and turn the tables, making the
captors captives in their turn.
But though the object of the expedition was thus far accom-
plished, that the Confederate Army was to remain unpaid until
money could be obtained from other sources and by other means,
our adventurous aid was not altogether satisfied with his night's
work. When the boat was rowed off from Fortress Monroe, the
darkness had seemed almost impenetrable; but now the clouds
had drifted away from the face of the heavens, and to their eyes,
now better accustomed to the obscurity, the starlight afforded a
tolerably fair view of the river. It showed them, at any rate, the
stern of the Confederate boat still floating. Knowing that this
was where the money would be placed, Capt. Spencer gave or-
ders to row towards it.
“How much money had you on board ” he asked of one of
the prisoners, who appeared to have been in command of the
party.
“Six thousand one hundred dollars,’
what sullenly given. º
“IIow much of that was gold, and how much paper?”
“Bleven hundred gold, and the rest of it in bluebacks.”
y
was the reply, some-
380 Capturing a Paymaster.
*
By this time, they had reached that portion of the wreck
which was still afloat, and the money was secured. The paper was
very much damaged by water, being completely permeated; but
that made no difference ; for at its best, the Confederate curren-
cy was not worth much more in the eyes of the Federals then
than it is to-day ; but it was secured lest it should again fall into
the hands of the Confederates. The gold was a prize of greater
value, as taken from the enemy, than ten times as much would
have been from another source, for it was far from plentiful at
the South, and was growing scarcer every day.
So much was the weight of the boat increased by the specie
and paper that the water was nearly level with the gunwale, and
it was only with great difficulty that they made their way back
to Fortress Monroe; but the officer with his two oarsmen and
boat-load of prisoners and money reached the fort in safety long
before dawn. Of the crew of the Confederate boat, all were cap-
tured; not one escaped to tell the tale to the Government offi-
cials of the sudden and unlooked for attack, the destruction of
the boat, and the capture of the crew and cargo.
£Harter XI.
A BOLD DASH.
A Hasty Advance—A Retreat—Skirmishing—Advance of Enemy—Position of
Forces—Sharpshooting—Two Men Cut Off—Their Danger—A Generous Offi-
cer—A Charge—Forrest to the Rescue !—Success—Retreat Continued.
Y EN. Forrest, of the Confederate army, had been chafing
G. under temporary inaction at Lafayette, Georgia, for some
little time, when, in September, 1863, it was reported that the
enemy, with a considerable force, was marching against Ring-
gold, in the same state. Orders came for Gen. Forrest to pro-
ceed, with as little delay as possible, to the point threatened.
Understanding that haste was of more importance than numbers,
and never averse to the most rapid movements, he set out, on the
10th, with four hundred men, almost as soon as the order had
been received. Unfortunately for him, however, either his in-
formation had been defective or his valor had overcome his
discretion; for the Federal force consisted of Vancleve’s entire
corps, seventeen thousand strong.
Of course, before such a body of troops, Forrest, with his
handful of men, could not hope to make a stand; nor was he in-
clined to surrender. The one course which remained to
him, then, was to fall back again to the support at Lafayette,
and this he determined to do. But he had advanced too far to be
allowed to do this peaceably, and there was continual skirmish-
ing as he retreated. The unequal conflict lasted two days, but
so masterly was the retreat that the loss on both sides was about
equal.
But with the main action we have little or nothing to do; it
has been outlined with sufficient distinctness to serve as back-
ground for the sketch which we specially wish to present. The
381
332 - A Bold Dash.
afternoon of the second day was already far spent when Gen.
Forrest retired to Tunnel Hill; here his force remained compara-
tively inactive for an hour, until, at five o’clock, the enemy camo
in sight. The mighty column advanced in stern majesty, seem-
ing about to crush the little body of Confederates as the car of
Juggernaut his worshippers, or as the avalanche overwhelms
the cottages on the mountain side. On ward it came, as regard-
less, seemingly, of any obstacles to its progress as chariot or land
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before stated, had gained
Tunnel Hill; the Federals
were advancing toward them. But between the two bodies of
troops was a grove of scattered trees; through which, in the
midst of a wide avenue cleared for the purpose, ran the rail-
way track, before its disappearance in the tunnel from which
the elevation took its name. So scattered were the trees which
made up the timber that this formed but a slight obstruction to
the view; and favored by the height of their position, the Con-
federates could easily see the movements of the Federals. They
saw that the trees beyond the track were shelter for the Union
skirmishers, who moved cautiously forward; but did not yet at-
tempt to cross the road. For a time at least, the railway was
to be the line drawn between the ground occupied by the Blue
and the Gray.
But the Federals were by no means contented with this situa-
tion of affairs. If the Confederates, with a firmness which was
insolence in so small a force, refused to surrender, they must
suffer the consequences. The fire of a hundred guns was opened
upon them, while the skirmishers advanced nearer and nearer to
Gen. N. B. Forrest.













A Bold Lash. * 388
the boundary line. Exasperated by the boldness of his enemies
and by the dangerous position of his own command, Gen. For-
rest leveled a gun at the nearest of these, half-hidden behind a
tree even when taking aim, and, firing, brought down his man.
As if to show how entirely the warning was disregarded, a doz-
en or more Yankees dashed from their sheltering trees and bush-
es, and with a bound were on the railway track.
At this juncture, Gen. Forrest, looking up the track beyond
this point, saw two Confederate soldiers leisurely approaching,
evidently unaware of the nearness of danger. In a moment more
they might be cut off, surrounded, killed or captured. This was
more than the Confederate cared to see—the squad of the enemy
so close, two of his men in such imminent peril. There were four
officers of his staff and an orderly very close to him ; to these he
spoke: -
“That impudent squad of Yankees must be captured and our
men saved. Come on, boys l’’
As soon as he began to speak, they understood what was to be
done; and as he uttered the last word, and drove the spurs into
his horse's flanks, his example was immediately followed by the
five attaches. Down the hillside they rushed at full speed, to-
wards the party whose presence so imperiled their unconscious
comrades. As they rode, the main command became sensible of
their purpose; and, in the very midst of the battle, there was a
pause; no one thought that yonder, beyond the little belt of
scattered trees, there were seventeen thousand enemies, blazing
away at them—that their own breasts were but a target for a
hundred guns. Each man leaned forward on his horse, watch-
ing with breathless interest the result of the daring charge.
Not so the enemy. The Federals, seeing their own comrades
in such imminent danger, and actuated by the same sentiment
which had led Forrest to the rescue, sent a rain of shot upon the
half dozen Confederates; but still the general and his scanty es-
cort dashed on. To the watchers on the hill behind them, they
were hidden for a moment by the cloud of blue smoke which is-
sued from their own carbines; but as that cleared away they
were seen riding still onward down the steep slope, while the
Rederals were in full retreat from the railroad. The two Con-
federates whose rescue had been thus bravely attempted had be-
come sensible of their danger, and rode rapidly forward to join
their rescuers.
334 A Bold Dash.
The squad of Federals retreated so rapidly to the protec-
tion of the main body of skirmishers that Forrest was obliged to
abandon half of his original plan, and content himself with hav-
ing prevented the capture of his own men. Nothing was to be
done, now, but to retreat to his command, and this they accord-
ingly did. But the Federals, not satisfied with having saved
their own men, now poured a leaden hail upon the officer and
his escort. Whether or not they were aware of the importance
of the party, they proved their marksmanship; for notwith-
standing the disadvantage at which the character of the ground
placed them, their bullets struck three of the eight men. Gen.
Forrest himself was wounded, though not dangerously.
By taking due advantage of all the shelter possible, they
avoided the further fire of the enemy; and the wounded, assist-
ed by their companions, reached the main body of the command,
where they were safe from immediate capture.
Such was one of the incidents of the War; an incident that
shows little of generalship, indeed, but much of personal brav-
ery; for to gain such a trifling advantage, Forrest might easily
have said, “Go,” rather than “Come,” and no man would have
blamed him. But he, and those who rode at his side, were made
of other stuff; and courage and humanity were, in their eyes, of
more account than skillfully laid plans. Whether they were
wise or foolish, let us remember that they were brave, and be
glad that they escaped safe to Lafayette.
£HAFTER XLI.
A. DARING ESCAPE.
A Meeting with Friends—Wolves in Sheep's Clothing—Docile (?) Prisoners—A
Successful Ruse—Detected—A Mad Chase—The End of It.
N the fall of 1863, the Fifth New York Cavalry was detailed
for picket duty in Hopewell and Thoroughfare Gaps. While
they were stationed at this point occurred an adventure of two
members of the regiment, which is here set down. One of the
men was Lieut. T. A. Boice, who had received his commission
after more than a year’s actual service in the ranks, and who
subsequently rose, by the various steps, to the grade of lieuten-
ant-colonel. The other was his orderly, whose name has not
been preserved in connection with this adventure; though, as
the sequel will show, this omission does not seriously interfere
with the interest of the story.
It was a bright October day; when the sunshine was as golden
as only October sunshine can be ; a day that seemed made for
peaceful meditation or for work that should be a preparation for
the coming winter. But in time of war all the proprieties of
nature are outraged, and human blood is remorselessly shed, to
be washed away by the rains, or to be drunk in by the parched
and thirsty earth. The two Federals who rode quietly along
had completed the task assigned them—something of the nature
of scouting—and were now returning to camp. Being far beyond
the Confederate lines, and almost within hearing of their own
men, they anticipated no danger; but, impressed by the gor-
geous beauty of the wooded mountain-sides, had slackened speed
until the gait of their horses was little more than a walk.
Their road led almost through the heart of the forest, but so
near to camp were they that, though there were but two of them,
835
336 A Daring Escape.
they had not the slightest hesitation in committing themselves
to the shadowy recesses of the woods. But their confidence was
misplaced. Riding towards them came a body of ten or fifteen
men, dressed in blue uniforms. Certainly that was nothing to
excite suspicion, for scouting parties of various sizos were sent
out almost daily, sometimes several inside of twenty-four hours.
Their accoutrements seemed all right, or would have seemed so
if the lieutenant had given them a second look; and as for their
being on the very road along which he was returning, that was
easily explained; additional information might have been re-
ceived, which these were to confirm or disprove ; they might in-
tend to turn off this road; they might even have been sent to
meet him, in case of some threatened danger of which he had not
heard.
Speculating idly upon the purpose for which these men had
been sent out, but not caring particularly on what errand they
might be bound, Lieut. Boice rode on towards them at the same
leisurely pace as before ; while the larger force advanced some-
what more rapidly, for they had been traveling at a greater rate
of speed ever since they came in sight. The road was a mere
bridle-path, bordered on one side by a wagon-road that had not
been used for so long that it was quite overgrown with grass.
As the two parties of horsemen approached each other, the
larger, which was in command of a sergeant, drew aside to this
grass-grown road, as if in deference to the commissioned officer's
shoulder-straps. At the other side of the bridle-path was an im-
penetrable, natural hedge of laurel.
‘Lieut. Boice passed the sergeant, giving the ordinary salute as
he did so ; the courtesy was returned in due form. But, sudden-
ly, he found the path before him blocked by two of the troopers,
who had quickly wheeled their horses from the wagon-road. A
third had grasped his rein, and still another pressed in between
him and the hedge, and, with his pistol touching the officer’s tem-
ple, summoned him to surrender. The orderly was similarly
surrounded. Of course, in such circumstances, there was no
choice, and the two Federals very reluctantly gave them-
selves up.
“Come along, now, hurry up,” ordered the sergeant, “we
haven’t any time to lose. Off by that path to the right, there.
Take that private along at your right, ; I’ll bring up the rear
with the officer. By twos, form, march.”
*-
A Daring Escape. 337
“Are the prisoners to keep their arms, Captain 7” ventured
one of the men.
“Yes,” he answered, as they took up the line of march and
moved along the designated by-way; it’s too d d near the
Yankee camp to stop ; wait till we get to ’s house; we can
disarm them then. At a fast trot, boys; we’ve got to make good
time.”
They rode on for some little distance, the Federals submitting
quietly ; for they know that any resistance would simply make
their captors treat them more severely. These same captors,
doubtless, congratulated themselves on having taken such a
docile pair of prisoners; but one of those prisoners was busily
laying a plan for escape. The placing a prisoner in the rear
with only a single guard at his side was, of course, an unusual
arrangement when the force was retreating; as in case of attack,
he could escape with comparative ease to his own friends; but
the guerillas evidently trusted much to the speed of their horses,
and had no intention of being attacked if there were any merit
in fleetness of foot. The arrangement was made, as Lieut. Boice
soon found, with a special object in view ; the guerilla captain
wished to obtain all possible information, regarding not only
the Federal Army, but the general state of affairs in the North.
Throughout the War, the people of the Southern States, includ-
ing the Confederate soldiers, manifested the keenest interest in
everything that transpired in the North ; men would do much to
get hold of a Northern newspaper; and at the famous meetings
of the pickets in the Rappahannock, as on other similar occa-
sions, the Confederates willingly exchanged tobacco for New
York papers.
As they rode along, then, Lieut. Boice was pretty closely
questioned upon many points; the political situation, the condi-
tion of the army, the opinions of the people in general regarding
the War, and the policy pursued by the officers on both sides.
Of course, many of these were such as he could not answer with-
out “affording aid and comfort to the enemies of the United
States;” and each time that he declined to reply, or gave an
evasive answer, the scowl on the captain's face grew darker and
darker. As they rode on, he became much irritated by the fact
that Lieut. Boice was looking steadily and curiously at the ele-
vation to the left. He turned his head to see what was the ob-
ject of attraction, but could not tell. The Federal seized the
338 A Daring Escape.
opportunity at once; it was too good to be neglected.
“What is that curious appearance of the hills caused by ? I
don’t recollect ever seeing it before.”
“Don’t see anything unusual,” was the gruff response.
“Iwonder if it could be something of an Indian summer effect,”
pursued the prisoner, meditatively.
“Don’t know, I’m sure,” was the answer, in the same surly
tone; but the ruse was successful; the captain turned in his sad-
dle to see what there was unusual about the appearance of the
hill. Boice's right hand had stolen down towards his boot-leg;
quick as thought he drew the revolver out of it and fired at his
companion, then at the man before him. Again and again he
fired in such rapid succession that the terrified and astonished
guerillas thought they had fallen into an ambush. Those before
dared not take time to look behind them ; no man knew which
of his comrades were fallen ; and in the wild panic of the sur-
prise, no man cared who fell, so that he escaped.
Boice’s orderly, seeing that the partisan chief had fallen at the
first shot, and that the man by whose side he himself had been
riding had shared the leaders' fate, realized only that he was free,
and wheeling his horse, galloped off to camp at full speed. Not
so with the officer. His success had been too marked for him to
relinquish the chase in this way, and he followed them at full
speed, firing as he went. Fortunately, he was well provided with
revolvers, all, of course, loaded when the chase began; one in his
belt, one in each boot-leg, and a pair at his saddle-bow. This
gave him thirty shots without reloading, and he fired with both
hands in order to give the impression that a considerable force
was attacking. In an evil moment for the plucky Federal, how-
ever, one of the flying guerillas imitated Lot's wife.
“It’s only the prisoner,” he cried to his comrades, “it’s no-
body but that d d Yankee.”
IIe had wheeled his horse before the words were fairly spoken,
and now came dashing madly toward the solitary Federal. As
his comrades realized the meaning of his words, they followed
his example. There were still eight or ten of them; for on
hearing the first shots they had fled so fast, and the road was so
irregular, that scarcely a bullet had sped home. It was useless
to think of resisting such a force; and wheeling his horse, the
Federal became, in his turn, the pursued. One parting shot he
fired, and then away down the hill-side in a mad race between
A Daring Escape. 339
him and vengeance. The guerillas spur their horses relentlessly;
the dead body of their leader lies beside the road; the man before
them has killed him. Now there is a point where the road is
straight for a quarter of a mile, and half a dozen bullets are sent
after the fugitive ; now by its windings, he is hidden from them,
and the only guide they have is the clatter of his horse's hoofs
upon the rocky path; now they catch sight of him through the
trees, and again the balls are sped on their way. They are good
marksmen, these guerillas; three balls have entered his body
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The Flight.
dangerously near the vital organs; there are two in the hand
that guided his horse; he is weak and dizzy from the loss of blood;
he can hardly sit on his horse; all grows dark before his eyes;
he sways in his saddle, but suddenly, by a strong effort, recovers
himself, as a drunken man will keep from falling. Instinctively
he leans down and clasps his horse's neck with his arms; the
animal is but half broken, the other officers say; but, wild with
terror, wings seem added to his feet; and now, like his rider, he
is wounded; yet he knows who bestrides him, he is obedient to
the slightest touch of his master's hand, though no one else can
mount him; and he gallantly bears the wounded, almost fainting































































22
340 A Daring Escape.
man, on toward camp, and comes in sight of the pickets; the gue-
rillas turn back; they have no mind to be in turn pursued and
taken; they are too near the main force of Federals to care to
advance farther; and their late prisoner reaches his friends,
bleeding and faint, indeed, but not fatally wounded.
ſHAPER XLII.
ATTACK ON TELE NEW IRONSIDES.
The Two Navies—The New Ironsides—Stage of the War—Selection of the Men
—Approaching the Vessel—Hailed—Explosion of the Torpedo—Effect—Re-
treat of the Confederates—Swimming to Shore—“Good-bye, Boys, I Can't
Swim ”—Qne Returns to Steamer–Escape.
HE War raged no less fiercely on the sea than on the land,
T although when it came to a naval contest, the two sections
were even more unequally mated than the most partial South-
erner ever declared they were on land; for the United States
had all the navy which had accumulated since the formation of
the government; and though much has been said of the ineffici-
ency of the vessels at the beginning of the War, surely they were
better than none at all, which was the state of affairs with the
Confederacy. But the latter “got even,” so to speak, by the aid
of the British.
But all during the War, the South suffered severely by reason
of the blockade which the North steadily maintained upon all
her ports. ‘Many vessels succeeded in running the blockade,
evading the United States steamers under cover of darkness,
bringing into port cargoes which were practically invaluable, and
carrying the products of the South to foreign markets. Some of
the most desperate fights of the War were between such vessels,
while, again, other actions took place to cripple the enemy’s
fleet before anything of the kind had been attempted. Many, too,
were sunk by means of torpedoes. Such was the fate of the
Confederate ram Albemarle, hereafter to be narrated ; such was
the fate of the Federal steamer New Ironsides, the attempte
destruction of which is our present subject. -
The New Ironsides had been lying off Morris Island, guarding
341
342 Attack on the New Ironsides.
the entrance to Charleston harbor for a sufficient length of time
to completely exasperate the Confederates who wished to enter
and leave that port at will ; finally, after much futile wishing that
she were destroyed, a plan was formed to accomplish that much
desired end. It was the Fall of 1863, when the Confederates
were no longer inspired by the confidence with which the War
had begun, and which had been nourished by their victories in
several of the great battles, when at the North men no longer
enlisted “for the War” in preference to a stated time, such as
six months or a year, lest they should not know what to do as
soldiers in time of peace. Lyon and Kearney had fallen by the
hands of the enemy; Stonewall Jackson had died by the hands
of the soldiers who idolized him. Every one saw that it was a
desperate struggle; no one could tell when it would end.
The men who planned the destruction of the New Ironsides
knew this well, yet they knew, equally well, that they could rely
upon finding men to volunteer for the desperate work. As soon
as it was rumored that such an expedition was to be sent out, there
were indeed plenty who were willing to go—men who were anx-
ious to take the terrible risk for the sake of the honor to be gain-
ed; nay, men of higher motives, who were willing to dare all for
the cause to which they had pledged “their lives, their fortunes
and their sacred honor.” Where all were willing, it was some-
what difficult to choose, for only four men were necessary for the
enterprise; but after due consideration had been given to the
qualifications of the various candidates, the selection was made.
Lieut. Wm. T. Glassell was the commander, J. H. Toombs, en-
gineer, James Sullivan, fireman, and J. W. Cannon, pilot. The
last three were all attached to gunboats lying in Charleston
harbor in the same respective capacities as those in which they
volunteered for this expedition.
It was between six and seven o’clock on the evening of Mon-
day, October 6th, 1863, when the little torpedo steamer David,
with a torpedo containing six hundred pounds of gunpowder at-
tached to her bow, and with her crew of four men, left the harbor.
The air was full of that luminous haze so characteristic of early
autumn ; which does not make the day seem gloomy, but which
envelops all distant objects in an indistinct cloud. As the sun
descended, of course this obscurity increased ; and by the time
that our party set out, it had so combined with the darkness of
night as to render their little vessel nearly invisible at a very
Attack on the New Ironsides. 343
short distance. Leaving the South Atlantic Wharf at the time
specified, they steamed down the harbor, skirting the shoals
along the edge of the channel, until they were nearly opposite
the point where the big black hull of the New Ironsides loomed
from the dark waters.
The darkness and haziness of the night permitted them to ap-
proach very near the vessel; as near as they dared, if they would
not be overheard; and to remain there for some time, recon-
noitering the position. At last, there seemed nothing to be
gained by further delay.
“It is nine o’clock, now,” Lieut. Glassell announced ; “shall
we strike her ?”
“I’m all ready,’
for.”
“Let’s go at her, then,” said Toombs.
“I’m just waiting,” added Sullivan.
“Aim her, then, directly at the Ironsides,” the officer directed.
But as they approached nearer, darkness could no longer fav-
or them, and they were hailed by the lookout on the Federal
vessel :
“Take care, there, or you’ll run into us. What steamer's that?”
Lieutenant Glassell, who was sitting at the bow of the boat,
answered by discharging one barrel of his gun at the challenger.
Handing the weapon to Cannon, he said, hastily:
“There's another Yank—take care of him, won’t you?”
But Cannon had not time to fire before the smaller vessel,
urged onward directly against the side of the larger one, had ex-
ploded the torpedo, provided for the purpose, about fifteen feet
from the keel, on the starboard side. The effect of the explosion
of six hundred pounds of gunpowder a few feet under the water
may be imagined ; it can hardly, save in a few particulars, be
described. In an instant, the sea appeared to have opened and
swallowed them up, so full of the roaring, whirling water was the
air. The Ironsides,of course, by reason of her bulk, was not sub-
ject to this to as great an extent as the little David, which was
hardly more than a steam launch; and the torpedo had exploded
so far from her as to render the expedition entirely unsuccessful.
The flood of waters not only came down upon the deck of the
David, but even down the smoke-stack, completely extinguishing
the fires in the furnaces. In addition to this, the explosion had
lodged some portion of the ballast in the works of the engine,
y
replied the pilot; “ready for what we came
344 Attack on the New Ironsides.
rendering it utterly unmanageable, by clogging the machinery.
It was, indeed, a perilous situation for the four Confederates.
Having failed in their enterprise, they were unable to retreat.
Volley after volley of musketry was poured from the Ironsides
and her launches; but, fortunately, the darkness prevented
*-* =- *** **ing aim,
F- and not a shot
struck. How long
this would continue
to be the case they,
of course, could not
tell.
| “Back her, for
God’s sake, back
| her,” exclaimed the
; Officer, who was as
yet unaware of the
accident to the en-
gine.
“I can’t back her,
sir; there’s some-
thing in the engine
that won’t let her
E WOrk.”
The words fell
like a knell on the
ears of the men.
who thus, for the
first time, learned
of their utterly
is hopeless condition.
# “We’ll have to
surrender, I sup-
pose, if that’s the
case,” was Lieut.
Glassell’s response,
after a moment's
- --------------
-
=
|
§
pause. “What do you say?”
“I don't see any other way out of it,” replied Cannon.
“She won’t work,” reiterated the engineer, while Sullivan
mutely assented to the general opinion.





Attack on the New Ironsides. 345
“Then I’ll hail the enemy, and surrender, if we must.”
But the enemy paid no attention to the call. Another plan,
then, must be tried; as none of them wished to see the inside of
a Northern prison, every one was almost glad that the call had
been disregarded; we say almost, because the chance of their
escape was an extremely doubtful one.
“What's to be done now, sir?” asked Toombs of the officer.
“There is but one course open to us; they won’t receive us as
prisoners, and the vessel's disabled; we must trust to our own
strength—“Every man for himself and God for us all.’”
“You mean to swim to shore ?”
“It’s our only chance. Put on your life preservers.”
“Good-bye, boys,” said Cannon, as he saw his comrades busi-
ly engaged in adjusting their life preservers; “I hope you’ll
get safe back to Charleston.”
There was a ring of despair in his voice that made Glassell
pause a moment, and ask, surprised :
“What’s the matter? What are you going to do? What can
you do?”
“I’ll have to stay and take my chances in the boat, for I can’t
swim.”
Remonstrance was of course impossible, nor could they do any-
thing but leave him to his fate. Plunging overboard, then, they
swam through the chilling water towards land. But the chan-
nel was wide, and they were heavily clad. Glassell and Sulli-
van had sufficient muscular strength to overcome this difficul-
ty, but Toombs had not. His clothing, becoming immediately
soaked, was rendered so much heavier that, even with the aid
of his life preserver, he found it impossible to make headway,
difficult even to keep afloat. Drowning men catch at straws,
and to this one, even the unmanageable vessel, within range of
the enemy’s guns, seemed preferable to the water. Back to the
David, then, he took his way, and was helped into her by Can-
non, who had watched his companions depart, wondering what
was to become of him, alone and helpless on this arm of the
ocean, with none but enemies near. The return of Toombs was
doubly welcome to him, both as affording a feeling of fellowship
and as giving a hope of escape by tinkering up the engine of
their vessel.
“Toombs, can’t you do anything with that engine 7”
“I don’t know. You see, the difficulty was, before, that they
346 Attack on the New Ironsides.
were just watching for a chance to aim at us, instead of firing at
random, and anything like a light would have been our death-
warrant. But she's drifting away from the Ironsides pretty fast
—do you reckon we’re out of range of their guns yet?”
“I don’t know—it’s hard to tell ; but the Ironsides’ lights are
so dim that I don’t believe a little one here could be seen there.
Do you think it could 7”
“No, I reckon not—not a torchlight at any rate—it’s so hazy.
But the next question is, have you got a match? Mine are all
wet.”
“I got pretty well drenched by the torrents that fell when the
torpedo exploded, but I believe my matches are dry. Bad luck
to the torpedo, as Sullivan would say ; I only wish she’d blown
the Ironsides as high as that water.” 4 *
“Not if it was to come down on us as hard as the water came
down—oh, here it is. There ! Now we’ll be all right. Give me
another match, please, for the fire. Now just wait a few minutes,
and we’ll be right as a trivet.”
Sure enough, it was but a very few minutes before the prom-
ise was fulfilled, and the David steamed as merrily onward as if
nothing had happened; as if she had not, in the hour of their
greatest need, left her crew to shift for themselves. They reach-
ed Charleston about midnight, nearly exhausted by the excite-
ment and danger through which they had passed; but rejoiced
to find that their whole party had escaped in safety; Lieut.
Glassell and Sullivan having swam safely to shore, and thence
made their way, on foot, to the Confederate lines; arriving in
Charleston a few hours later than Cannon and Toombs. The
only regret that was expressed, when the four were once more
together was, that no serious injury had been done to the New
Ironsides.
£Harres XLIII.
AN ESCAPE FROM LIBEY.
Defying Search—Resolution to Escape—Opinion of Others—A Companion—An
Unsuccessful Plan—Another Mode Proposed —Mystifying their Comrades—
Passing the Guards—At the Rendezvous— A Keen-eyed Stranger—The
Source of Help—At the Picket Post.
VARLY in October, 1863, a new batch of prisoners arrived in
Richmond, having just come from the prison at Belle Isle,
where they had been confined five days. They were sent to
Libby Prison. It is with one of these men, Corporal Purdum,
that our present narrative concerns itself.
Before the search of the prisoners took place, he had taken
one of the buttons of his blouse apart, pressed a ten-dollar bill
into it, and fastened it together in such a way that the keenest
eye would not detect the difference. By means of this greenback
he was enabled, during the earlier days of his captivity, to ob-
tain rations which were, in quantity and quality, far beyond
those given out by the prison officials. But time went on, and
after a few days the money gave out. Haversack and pocket-
knife were then traded for the much desired articles of food;
but at last every resource was exhausted, and there were but two
courses remaining. One of these was to stay in the prison and
suffer, as he saw the men around him suffering; the other was
to attempt to escape. To his comrades he mentioned the alterna-
tives. *
“There's really no choice,” said one, “though you think there
is. You could never get away—never.”
“One could at least die in the attempt,” he answered, dogged-
ly, “and that would be better than to die by inches here, as
we’re all sure to do if we don’t get away.”
347
348 An Escape from Libby.
“It is simply suicide,” said another, shaking his head; “as
good a way as any would be to jump from one of the windows
of the fourth story.”
“still, I think I shall make the effort,” returned the corporal,
unconvinced by all that might be said.
“Corporal, are you quite determined to go 7" asked a young
Pennsylvanian, who had been a silent auditor of the discussion.
“ Quite,” was the brief answer.
“Well, so am I. Suppose we try it together?”
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Libby Prison.
The proposition was accepted, and the two set their wits to
work to devise a plan. But it seemed to be in vain. From the
windows of the upper floor they could get a good view of a con-
siderable part of the city. But it seemed like the view which
Moses had of the Promised Land; they could look upon it, but
that was all. However, there was no harm in saying what they
would do if they were fortunate enough to get away. There was
no telling when they might be closely confined to one of the
lower floors, so that they reconnoitered carefully from the fourth
story windows, and marked out the route to be pursued, if ever
opportunity should offer. Directly east for four or five miles,
then slightly towards the south, and they would come out near
the Federal lines at Williamsburg.
It was long before the days of that famous tunnel, which for


An Escape from Libby. 349
so many of the prisoners was the path to liberty, and for some
to the grave. Tunneling, indeed, seems to have been unthought
of, or dismissed as utterly impracticable. Their first attempt
was an effort to make use of some planks that had been nailed
up at the rear of the building. To get these up to a window, and
lay them across to the fence, was the first thing to be done; they
worked night after night, for of course they could do nothing
during the day; but alas for their love of liberty Their labors
were discovered, and although they were not, as in many other
prisons, punished for the attempt, they were of course obliged
to lay some other plan. But what plan could possibly be exe-
cuted 7
“I just tell you what it is,” said Purdum, as the two sat in
council, “the building’s so closely guarded that there's only one
way to get out.”
“What’s that ?” asked the other.
“Walk out of the door,” replied the corporal. “You may not
believe it, but I tell you it’ll have to come to that, yet.”
“But I don’t see how it is to be done,” persisted the Pennsyl-
vanian.
“Hi, Purdum, you here yet?” called a waggish comrade, who
chanced to come near them ; “why, I thought you and B had
escaped ages ago.”
“We did come mighty near it,” answered Purdum, good-na-
turedly, “but we slipped up somehow. As I tell you,” this to
B , “we’ll have to walk out. They’re cleaning up the prison
now, so it’s a pretty good time. We’ll have to get Rebel uni-
forms, of course.”
“Well, if you think it can be done, all right. We’ll try it.
But don’t say a word about it to the others—they chaff us un-
mercifully now,” stipulated B *
The Confederate uniforms were obtained, by what means does
not appear. So many of the men who narrate their own adven-
tures of this kind do not seem to realize that the main interest
lies in the details, and not in the facts. The day that the second
suit was procured was the one set for trying the plan.
At dusk they were ready, but it was agreed to wait until the
relief guard came on duty at seven o’clock before the game was
tried. In the meantime, they walked about the prison, clad in
their gray uniforms, to see if their comrades would suspect them.
All took them to be Confederates.
y
350 An Escape from Libby.
“Are you busy, sir?” asked a low voice in Purdum's ear.
“Well, no, not so very.”
“Just step aside here, will you. I’d like to see you a moment.”
The speaker was one of the prisoners. Greatly mystified, the
corporal complied with the request.
“See here, I wish you’d try and get me out of prison, won’t
you? I don’t belong here, really. I was conscripted; I didn’t
want to fight against the South; I’ve never been in a battle and
never fired a gun at the Southern people. I’d give most anything
to a man that would get me out of prison.”
“Well, I’ll see about it,” replied Purdum, who found, by this
means, that his disguise was perfect. They were solicited
several times by other prisoners, who asked them to bring in
bread ; but they excused themselves from this favor by pleading
that the guard would not permit trading. At length the ap-
pointed hour arrived, and Purdum presented himself at the door,
it having been arranged that he was to make the first attempt.
He passed unchallenged by the guard, who supposed he was
simply one of the soldiers that had been superintending the
cleaning of the building. Not so the sentinel at the outer line,
on the street. -
“Halt I Who goes there 7”
“A friend,” replied Purdum.
“Where do you come from *
“I am Police Sergeant, and have been directing the cleaning
of the prison.” -
“I have no orders to let you pass, sir,” said the guard.
“Probably because it is a matter of course that I should be al-
lowed to pass; or perhaps I am later than usual this evening,
and they expected me to be out before you came on duty. I
usually am through earlier. The guard has just been changed,
hasn’t it 7”
“Yes, sir,” very meekly.
“That explains it, then. But you are not going to keep me
in, are you?”
“Oh no, certainly not, sir; pass on ;”
as though to a superior officer.
B was less fortunate. The first guard would not let him
pass. He was therefore reduced to strategy, and, much to his
disgust, was obliged to take some of his companions into the se-
cret. These comrades made a demonstration at one of the win-
y
and the guard saluted
An Escape from Libby. 351
dows which attracted the attention of the guard, and while he
was busily looking to find out what was the matter there, B–
slipped past him and escaped by crawling under some boards ly-
ing near by. He was not halted by the guard on the street, and
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Passing the Guard.
soon arrived at the appointed rendezvous, a small hill some
three squares from the prison. Here he found Purdum, who had
been waiting for nearly an hour and a half, and was almost fro-
zen with the long inaction in the chilling November air.
They dared not congratulate each other in words; only a si-


352 An Escape from Libby.
lent pressure of the hands, a glad look into each other's eyes;
and they started on their perilous journey through the enemy’s
country, alone, without friends or money. Guided only by the
stars, they pursued the route which they had planned before set-
ting out. They crossed the woods and fields, traveling at a good
round pace, until they came to the fortifications; these must be
approached with more caution. But any fears which they might
have entertained proved groundless, for the defenses were pass-
ed in safety. Once beyond the intrenchments, they thought they
might venture to ask for guidance; but although they were care-
ful to select a humble house, apparently tenanted by negroes,
their knock at the door received no response. There was noth-
ing to be done, then, but to make their way onward as best they
might. Fortunately, the sky was cloudless, and these wander-
ers in an unknown country, without guide or compass, literally
received aid from on high.
So they traveled on until about two o'clock. Weak and tired,
they were obliged to rest; and stealing into an old stable, they
went in and laid down. But thinly clad as they were, the bit-
ing air of the November night chilled them to the bone; and
after a brief trial of the stable, they were only too glad to seek
shelter in a neighboring house. Here they found a friend in its
Solitary occupant, an aged negress, who gave them not only
shelter and warmth, but shared with them her scanty supply of
food. At this place they learned that they had traveled ten
miles in the direction which they wished to take. Early in the
morning, they again set out; for their dress made it possible for
them to travel by day without being suspected. Indeed they met
many persons who would doubtless have returned them to Lib-
by had not the Confederate uniform deceived them. At noon
they were fed by a woman whose husband was in the Southern
army; from her, too, they learned much about the roads.
They reached the Chickahominy river, twenty miles from
Richmond. Oh for one of those long bridges which had been
destroyed when McClellan advanced towards Richmond But
the wish was ungratified, and they set to work to find some oth-
er means of crossing the river. Two logs felled for some pur-
pose and left to lie where they had fallen, served as rude rafts;
a long stout limb of a tree enabled each to “pole” himself over.
But one of their greatest perils was to be encountered after this
difficulty had been surmounted. This was nothing else than the
An Escape from Libby. 353
meeting with a man whom at first they took for a Confederate
soldier. They afterward found, however, that his gray suit was
not a uniform, but simple citizen’s homespun, dyed with spruce
pine roots, and worn as a piece of necessary economy in those
days of the blockade.
“Where do you belong?” was almost his first question.
“To the Nineteenth Virginia Battalion, guarding prisoners
at Richmond,” Purdum answered, gravely.
“Where are you going?”
“Home on furlough,” was the reply which came promptly.
The stranger looked sharply at them for full a minute; but
they returned his gaze with as much of honesty and frankness as
they could summon to the support of falsehood.
“Oh, pshaw,” he ejaculated, laughing; “you needn’t try to fool
me. You're escaped prisoners, trying to get to the Federal lines.”
With an air that seemed to say, “You’d better not know so
much than know so much that ain’t so,” Purdum gravely assur-
ed him that he misjudged them ; but the assurance produced lit-
tle or no effect.
“You’d better turn back to Richmond ; you’ll never get past
the pickets,” he said, shaking his head.
“We’ll turn back when our furlough ends,” said Purdum,
“ and not a day before.”
“Well, good-bye and good luck to you,” he said, “but I'm afraid
you will never get to your friends.”
Off rode the keen-eyed stranger, and the two Federals sped on-
ward in the opposite direction, intent upon putting as many
miles as possible between themselves and the man who had sus-
pected their true character. They walked five miles at a rapid
pace, without meeting any one, save here and there a party of
children on their way to school. These they dared not question
for fear that the circumstances be related at home, and the par-
ents led to suspect the questioners. The only class of persons of
whom they dared inquire was the negroes, and at last they met a
colored man. He proved to be a valuable acquaintance, furnish-
ing much information which was really necessary. He told them
where the pickets were and how to evade them ; and he told
them where they would find another friend—a free negro. This
man had been left in charge of a large house by the owner, and
gladly sheltered the escaping Federals for the night, providing
them with fire and food.
354 An Escape from Libby.
How soon their absence would be discovered, or whether they
would be pursued, they of course did not know; but their anx-
iety to reach the Federals lines was doubled by the fear of being
overtaken and conveyed back to Libby. Only a few hours, then,
did they spend in the mansion whose owner would never have
entertained such as they ; and then they were on their way again
at daylight.
Danger threatened again; for they were hardly out of sight
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In Hiding.
before they saw a squad of cavalry approaching. But trusting
that they themselves had not been seen or noticed, and guided
by their black friend, they struck into the woods that bordered
the road. The troopers rode on by their hiding-place, little
dreaming what a prize was within their very grasp ; the escaped
prisoners made their best time for a full half mile, but finding
that their first conjecture was right, and that they were not pur-
sued, they slackened their pace to a rate that they could keep
up under ordinary circumstances. Still, they dared not venture
back to the road, for fear that others would be keener-eyed or
less unsuspicious. Their colored host soon left them, but occa-
sionally they still sought out a negro cabin that they might ask
about the way; and by this means learned of many by-paths of
























































An Escape from Libby. 3
5
5
which only those well acquainted with the country could know.
The same friendly, dusky hands pointed the way to a shelter at
night; and brought out a homely store of sweet potatoes and
corn-dodgers for their refreshment and sustenance. Bright and
early the next morning they were again on the way, although
they were obliged to travel still in the woods and lost much time
by mistaking their route. Being now in the space between the
lines of the two armies, they were in danger of meeting with
Confederate scouts, who would be likely to recapture them.
They did indeed see several of such parties, but being on the
alert, managed to evade them. -
Over a rough road, through almost impenetrable forests and
swamps, they toiled painfully on, fearing every moment that
they might hear the ominous summons to halt from some enemy
half-hidden among the thick trees. At last, however, they
reached the place where they had been told that they would find
shelter for the night. Would it be the last night 7 Their in-
formants, kept ignorant through generations of servitude, and
long ages of Savagery preceding slavery, could not judge accur-
ately of numbers or distances; could not tell how long it might
be before they should reach that haven of safety, a Federal
picket post. Their present host, however, was perhaps more
intelligent, perhaps had more often been over the route; he
assured them that they were seven miles from the Federal lines.
Their hearts leaped as they heard his words, and they felt almost
that they must go on; but they were footsore and weary, almost
fainting from lack of food and from their long journey. Then,
too, they were almost as safe as if they were fairly within the
lines; and they concluded to rest for the night. They were fed
and lodged, then, by this kind friend, who went with them two
miles on their journey the next morning, leaving them grate-
fully to trudge the rest of their way.
“IHey, Johnny,” cried a picket, as they came in sight; “get-
ting tired, 'cause we don’t let you alone?”
“We’re not deserters,” replied Purdum, “but escaped prison-
ers from Libby.”
Nor were they the less welcome because they were not desert-
ers from the Confederate Army, as the pickets had at first Sup-
posed them to be. They were duly escorted to camp, and made
much of ; for every man that escaped from Libby in those days
was, in the eyes of his friends, a hero, hardly second to the man
who captured a battle-flag from the enemy.
23
£ºries XLIV.
A T)ANGEROUS MISSION.
Necessity for Trusty Messenger—Col. Baker Volunteers—Dispatches Delivered—
Danger Ahead—Worse and More of it—The Whole Confederate Army–A
Break in the Column—Dashes Through—Pursued—Difficulties—Stratagem—
Success—A Close Contest — Bull Itun — The Stream is Crossed—Escape of
Messenger.
ARRYING dispatches between the two parts of an army is
O one of the most perilous, as it is one of the most necessary
branches of service, during time of war. The partisan has, usu-
ally, the advantage of a perfect knowledge of the country in
which he is to operate, and can often elude his pursuers by
means of some feature of it of which they are ignorant; but the
bearer of dispatches must often trust to the information which
others give him; his mission must be performed with speed;
and if the enemy be made aware of, or even suspect his presence,
the capture of his papers immediately becomes the thing most
earnestly desired.
When Gen. Pope retreated before Ice's army in the fall of
1863, and Gen. Banks, without being aware of the extent of the
disaster, had left the Shenandoah Valley in order to effect a
junction with him, it became highly essential that the War De-
partment at Washington should communicate to Banks informa-
tion of the dangers that lay before him. Two messengers were
successively dispatched; the first was captured ; the second
penetrated some distance into the enemy's country, but returned
before he had accomplished his mission, saying it was a greater
risk than he was prepared to take. The danger was becoming
greater, the necessity more urgent, every hour. In this dilem-
ma, Secretary Stanton sent for Col. Baker, the Chief of the Na-
- 356
A Dangerous Mission. 357
tional Detective Service, and, when he arrived, asked him:
“Have you any reliable man who will undertake to carry dis-
patches to Gen. Banks?”
The chief thought rapidly over the men in the service—nearly
or quite four hundred in number ; but no one seemed available.
Hardly a moment had elapsed before he was ready to answer:
“If you will get the dispatches ready sir I will see that an
attempt is made to deliver them.”
More, of course, he could not positively promise, but the Sec-
retary knew his man, and was satisfied. A time was set when
the papers should be prepared, and the subordinate retired to fit
himself out for the journey Of course, the most important
thing was a fleet horse; and once provided with this, his prepar-
ations were soon completed. Concealing the dispatches next his
skin, he set out on his lonely journey. Leaving the capital at
six in the evening, he reached Gen. McDowell’s headquarters
after a few hours’ ride; but such was the confusion into which
everything had been thrown, that the horse he desired could not
be furnished him, and he was obliged to make the whole journey
on the now wearied animal with which he had been furnished at
Washington. Through a driving rain, which was welcome be-
cause it afforded a promise of greater security, he rode on,
reaching Gen. Banks' headquarters at about dawn. -
The dispatches were delivered to the officer, who was as
anxious to receive them as the Secretary had been to send them;
and the messenger was given fresh dispatches to deliver to the
Department. Disregarding the fact that he had been in the sad-
dle all night, accomplishing during that space a distance of sixty
miles, he determined to lose no time in returning. Being now
sure of the location of the point which he desired to reach, he
determined to make no circuit, but to ride directly for the Con-
federate lines. He had not gone far before a dark line on the
horizon revealed the presence of danger; approaching cautiously,
yet rapidly, he found it was the enemy's entire force, marching in
an easterly direction towards the famous battle-ground of Bull
Run. Detachments of infantry, cavalry and artillery occupied the
whole country ahead of him ; almost the only means of reaching
his destination was to ride rapidly through one of the spaces be-
tween two of these squads.
Of course this was dangerous in the extreme, and no one real-
ized that it was so, better than the man who was to make the
358 A Dangerous Mission.
effort. By making a wide circuit, he might have been able to
ride around them in safety; but this would take longer than he
desired to be on the journey; he preferred to encounter the dan-
ger, rather than to lose the time. For nearly an hour, from a
position not more than three hundred yards from the main col-
umn, he watched for a favorable opportunity to accomplish his
daring project. At last it presented itself. With his revolver
firmly grasped in his right hand, but held in such a way as near-
ly to conceal it, and guiding his horse with his left hand, he gal-
loped at full speed towards a break in the column. At first, the
Confederates were uncertain as to who he might be, or what might
be his errand ; possibly he was one of their own men, sent on
some mission, and now desirous of gaining his command ; an aid
with orders from the general; a messenger from Jackson or
some other officer. But when, after reaching the opening, he
galloped straight onward past the column, his movements be-
came suspicious, and a dozen voices commanded him to halt.
The summons was of course unheeded ; it thus became certain
that he was an enemy, and many of the soldiers fired after him.
This was no more than he expected, and he was prepared for it.
Bending low upon the neck of his horse, he urged the tired animal
onward while the bullets whistled above his head. Thus protect-
ed by his position, the only evil that could befall him was an
injury to his horse; but fortunately this was escaped.
He was not out of sight before a cavalry squad of forty came
up with the body of infantry whose shots he had escaped,
and was ordered in pursuit. Matters had now become serious,
for his horse was jaded with the long night ride, while theirs
were probably comparatively fresh; then, too, the immense dis-
proportion of numbers would make it next to impossible for him
to baffle pursuit. The Confederates, however, were not aware
that he had on his person dispatches from Gen. Banks to the
Secretary of War; and when the chase had continued for about
a mile, and appeared more unavailing than ever, they began to
be discouraged. One after another they departed, discharging
a farewell shot as they went, until only six or eight were left.
The few remaining pursuers were all well mounted, and rode
on as if they enjoyed the chase. They were too far in the rear
to fire with any certainty of hitting the mark, and not wishing
to cause further delay by stopping to load, held their fire until
some better opportunity should offer. It was as exciting a race
A Dangerous Mission. 359
as the patrons of the turf ever witnessed ; now they rode neck
and neck; now one gained on the others—one length, two, half-
a-dozen, only to be in turn distanced. Far before them was the
prize—they knew not what; but the pleasure of the chase was
sufficient to recompense them if it proved valueless, and mean-
while they escaped the necessity of marching soberly along with
the column.
The tired horse in the van seemed to understand the necessity
of making the best possible time, and put forth his utmost speed.
There was no time for choice of roads; the Federal lines must
be reached as soon as possible; the only guide which the rider
has is the sun overhead ; he must keep in the direction whence
that is coming, turning a little to the north. His haste led him
into a thicket which proved nearly impassable for his horse; and
while he was endeavoring to disentangle himself from this diffi-
culty, his foremost pursuer gained rapidly upon him. Only
twenty paces separate them as the Confederate, rising in his stir-
rups and bending forward, fires; but the shot misses him, as the
others have done; and having now passed the obstructed part
of the road, he flies onward, consoling himself with the reflec-
tion that his pursuers will be delayed as long as he has been.
Regardless of everything but the necessity of putting as great
a distance as possible between himself and the Southerners, he
dashes on at his utmost speed, only to find himself, in a few mo-
ments, floundering in a mud-hole in the midst of the road. It
seemed that the rain which had sheltered him from observation
during his night’s ride was to lead to his capture in daytime.
He was still laboring under this difficulty, unable to proceed at
any other pace than a walk, when the Confederates, extricating
themselves from the thicket through which he had led them,
came dashing onward, uttering that shrill cry familiarly known
as the “Rebel yell.” Onward, onward, closer and closer, until
they judge it a certain aim ; then the pistol shots ring out. But
he again escapes unscathed, and once more, being safely over the
deepest mud, rides up the slope, which is comparatively dry.
His chances grew better and better as time went on, for only
four of the cavalrymen had continued the chase so far. The
odds now were still great, but not so overwhelming as at first.
Trusting to escape by sheer fleetness, he urged his horse to
greater and greater speed, and for nine miles allowed no slack-
ening. But he was sensible that he was fast approaching the
360 A Dangerous Mission.
limit of equine endurance ; the dark coat of his horse was shin-
ing with perspiration, and flecked with foam. It was impossi-
ble, then, for him to get away from them but by stratagem. His
thoughts were busy as he rode on, laying a plan by which to
elude them.
His scheme perfected in his own mind, he soon found a place
to put it in execution. Making one last, desperate effort, he
reached the brow of a small hill far in advance of the others, and
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A Shot from the Thicket.
arrived at the foot before they gained the summit. Hastily dis-
mounting, he concealed himself and his horse in a dense thicket
near the road.
He had hardly time to do so, before the foremost pursuer had
gained the top of the hill. Suspecting no stratagem, the Confed-
erate dashed onward at his former speed, closely followed by
his comrades. Down the slope of the hill, past the group of
young pines where the object of the chase was hidden, and out
of sight. But he was not yet safe. A turn in the road, a swell
of the ground, might have hidden him from their eyes for a few
moments, but he must soon come in sight. They reached the

A Dangerous Mission. 361
top of the hill beyond the hollow where he was concealed ; there
was a long stretch of level road from its foot, straight as if
drawn by a ruler; on either side there was a grassy margin,
brown with the approach of winter; the snake fence beyond
separated the fields from the common road, except where long
stretches of it had furnished material for camp fires; but Saving
the bushes that grew in the angles of this primitive fence, there
was no sort of shelter for the fugitive, who could not have gain-
ed so much time as to be out of sight.
Three of the pursuers, not stopping to consider these facts, per-
haps forgetful of everything but the temporary freedom from
military restraint, dashed onward ; the fourth, more cautious, saw
that there was no use in seeking their chase before them ; he must
be behind them. Wheeling his horse, then, the Confederate rode
slowly back, carefully examining every place that seemed at all
promising.
Perplexed by the mysterious disappearance, he had searched
so many coverts unsuccessfully that he was about to give it up
in disgust. Just as he seemed most inclined to do so, however,
a slight movement in a thicket about thirty yards off attracted
his attention.
“There’s a horse, there, sure as you’re born,” he muttered to
himself; “though he was a fool to hide so near the road, and—”
He had raised his carbine to fire, when whistling through the
pine boughs came a pistol-shot. His horse reared, and plunged
forward; the rider swayed a moment in his saddle, and then
fell heavily to the ground.
Dropping his pistol to his side, Col. Baker sprang into his
saddle. With evident effort the wounded man raised himself,
trying to get his carbine into position, but sank again to the
ground as a second bullet struck him. Of course his companions
would return, on hearing the shots, to learn the meaning; there
was no time to be lost. Dashing off at right angles to the road,
Col. Baker endeavored to mislead his enemies; but they came
back in less time than he had anticipated, and seeing him, again
gave chase. The excitement of the race grew greater and great-
er. Despite the rest in the pine thicket, he feared that it would
be simply a question of endurance, and his horse was nearly ex-
hausted. Even now they were within range, as the bullet which
whistled by him attested; even now, glancing back at them, he
could see the grim determination in their faces and bearing.
362 A Dangerous Mission.
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A Dangerous Mission. 363
They had seen their companion slain by his hand; they would
take him, dead or alive.
Every minute was valuable ; every minute brought him near-
er to safety; safety, not for himself only, but for the dispatches
of which he was the bearer. At last that famous stream, which
had seen and given name to two battles, Bull Run, was seen in
the distance. The farther side, he knew, was the Federal pick-
et line. Could he reach it 7 It was extremely doubtful, for the
banks rose to some height above the little river, and while cross-
ing it he would be exposed to the bullets of the three Confederates.
“One more effort, good horse, and you can rest.”
Obediently to his urging, the horse dashed onward more wild-
ly than ever. Rapidly he gained upon them—can he reach the
farther side before they reach this 2 The stream is gained ; he
plunges into the current; it is not far to swim, for the river is
but eight or ten yards wide. Despite the swiftness of the current,
the distance is soon accomplished, and horse and rider are on the
level bank. But above this rises the hill on which the pickets
are placed; its side is almost perpendicular, from the narrow
strip of flat ground to the summit. Yet the top must be gained,
and that before the pursuers have emerged from the woods just
the other side of Bull Run.
The danger increases as time goes on, and the horse has made
but ineffectual efforts to scale the height. He can hear the
shouts of his pursuers as they encourage each other and urge
their steeds, onward. Nearer and nearer they come.
“Try it again, old boy; try it just once more,” he said to the
noble animal that he bestrode, as he patted its neck encourag-
ingly. Thus incited, the horse, with one desperate spring, gain-
ed the top of the bank, and planted his feet firmly on the turf.
A shot whistled over the waters, and buried itself in the earth
beneath them. They were safe at last, but not a moment too
SOOIl. - -
“What's the matter?” cried the pickets, running forward;
while the officer in command more decorously demanded an ex-
planation.
“I have dispatches to the Secretary of War from Gen. Banks,
and have been chased by the Rebels.”
Glancing at the stream, they saw a horse and rider struggling
in the current, in a vain endeavor to reach the shore; instantly
four or five carbines were raised, there was one report, and the
364 A Dangerous Mission.
bullets were speeding towards the horseman. His struggles
ceased ; and horse and rider were borne onward by the swift
current, leaving behind them a trail of blood.
His companions reached the edge of the wood just in time to
see the scene as we have described it; the dead Confederate in
the water, the group of soldiers in blue uniforms on the opposite
bluff; and deeming, in such circumstances, that discretion was
the better part of valor, wheeled and disappeared in the woods.
Mounting his horse once more, Col. Baker rode towards
Washington at a somewhat more leisurely pace than that lately
used, which might have been termed breakneck speed. Arriv-
ing there at 3 P. M., he delivered the dispatches, having been in
the saddle twenty-one hours, during which time he had accom-
plished a distance of no less than one hundred and twenty-four
miles. Utterly prostrated by the long journey, rider and horse
required a long period of rest and careful treatment.
£HAFTER XLV.
A STEAMER CAPTURED.
The Unsuspected Passengers—Well-Managed Acquaintanceship —Night at Sea—
A Friendly Chat— A Surprising Sound — Something Wrong in the Engine
Room – Crew Secured — Vessel in the Hands of the Passengers —A Rene-
gade's Advice—A Well-Planned Affair—Lieut. Parr Indicted—Acquitted—
Reason for Indictment.
W W TE have already traced the adventures of Capt. Andrews
and his men, in that attempt to steal a locomotive, which
resulted so disastrously to the leader and more than one of his
followers. Det us now see what befell a party of men that
attempted to steal a steamer; our authorities being several con-
temporary accounts, and the testimony of the mate, in a trial
which resulted from the daring deed, nearly fifteen years after
the thing was done.
December 3d, 1863, the steamer Chesapeake, plying between
the cities of New York and Portland, lay at the dock in the
North River. The sun had already passed the meridian when
three men, clad in plain clothes, came on board to engage pas-
Sage.
“I beg your pardon, sir,” said the clerk; “but you have giv-
en me only five dollars each ; the price of passage is seven.”
“Seven 7 I was told it was but five,” was the reply.
“The owners have only made the change this trip. The War
has made the prices of labor so high that everything else must
rise in proportion.”
“Yes, everything is going up. Seven dollars 7 Here’s the
rest of the money for you.”
Just at this juncture two other men came up, and proffered the
amount formerly demanded for the passage. They appeared to
365
366 A Steamer Captured.
be considerably nonplussed at the statement that more was
necessary, and glanced uneasily at the first party, with whom
no signs of recognition had been exchanged. But one of the
three men came forward as he saw the dilemma, and claimed
an acquaintanceship.
“I was talking to some of my friends here, and really did not
see you until this minute. How are you? Going to Portland 7”
“Well, I guess not. You see, we didn’t calculate on more than
five dollars fare, and here they want seven. Haven’t got it.”
“Let me accommodate you. O, its nothing ; you can pay me
at your convenience.” *
So the matter was arranged, and the two little parties were
Soon united, chatting pleasantly enough. There was surely
nothing in this to awaken suspicion, and yet, why did all of them
linger so pertinaciously near the desk, as if anxious to see all
who came on board 7 Perhaps that would be explained, how-
ever, by the natural curiosity which men feel as to those who are
to be their companions, though for ever so short a time.
In groups of twos and threes, and occasionally singly, men
came on board to engage passage, until all told there were seven-
teen. The shortest voyage is dreary to one who has no friends
or acquaintances on board, but in this case there seemed to be
no such feeling ; for each knew at least one of the others, and,
by means of many introductions, the whole party were soon ac-
quainted. So cleverly and naturally, however, was the whole
thing managed that neither officers nor crew once suspected that
these seventeen passengers were really men banded together for
the accomplishment of one common purpose; that purpose to
obtain possession and control of the Chesapeake.
The short winter afternoon drew near its close ; and as the tide
turned, about four o’clock, the vessel weighed anchor and stood
out to sea. Nothing disturbed the quiet monotony of the voyage
for four days. The vessel steamed along over the route so fa-
miliar to her officers, and was well on her way on the particular
night of which we write. She was about twenty miles off
Cape Cod when, on the 7th of December, at midnight, the watch
was changed, Mr. Johnson, the first mate, being the officer in
charge, and four others being on duty—two on deck and two be-
low. The tired seamen who had just been relieved turned in,
and were asleep in an instant, while the others paced their
monotonous rounds as mechanically as the hands of a clock
A Steamer Captured. 367
move around the dial-plate ; and so the night wore on.
One bell had already struck, proclaiming that half an hour had
passed since the watch was changed; and the officer in charge
went below to see that all was right in the engine room. It was
only the usual precaution, and did not indicate any suspicion
in the mind of the mate. Nor, when he reached the engine room,
and saw one of the passengers there, did he see anything wrong
—such a thing frequently happened.
“Ah, Mr. Johnson,” said the man, who had registered his
name as Wade, “I was just coming upon deck to see you, sir.”
“Indeed? Anything particular 7”
“No ; I just wanted to bother you as passengers so often
bother the officers of the vessel—how are we getting on 7”
“First-rate, sir. The Chesapeake's as good a craft as ever I
sailed in, both for speed or safety.”
“Ah, I see you have the true sailor-love for the ship. Shall
we get to Portland in good time?”
“Yes, if there is no sudden change in the weather. Plenty of
time for a storm to come up and shipwreck us, you know,”
replied the officer with a confident laugh.
“And is a storm the only thing to be feared 7”
“No there might be a boiler explosion, that would send us,
first, up, and then down; but Shaffer's one of the most careful
engineers going, and I guess he’ll keep a good look out, as he’d
be the first to go, if such a thing should happen. Are you nerv-
Ous 7”
“I? Oh no, not the least.”
“Well, I guess I’ll go into the pantry and get something to eat.
Are you coming upon deck 7”
“No, its hardly worth while. I just wanted to know how we
were getting on. Good-night, sir.”
“Good-night, sir.”
The mate left the engine room, and betook himself to the pan-
try for his midnight luncheon; but he had hardly reached the lat-
ter apartment when he heard that most unexpected of sounds—a
pistol shot. What it could mean, he could not guess, but hur-
riedly retracing his steps to the room he had just left, whence
the sound seemed to proceed, he saw, at the other side of the
room, half in the deep shadows cast by the machinery, a man
standing, holding a revolver in his hand.
“What does this mean?” he demanded, in the stern tone of
368 A Steamer Captured.
the officer in command of a steamer on the ocean highway.
There was not a word of reply, as the stranger again pulled
the trigger. Johnson perceiving his intention just in time, jump-
ed aside; and in the haste of changing his aim just at the mo-
ment of firing, the armed man missed his intended mark, the ball
striking one of the cylinders and glancing aside. It was not
possible to do any good by remaining here any longer; it was
but imperiling his own life; and Johnson darted through the
Saloon to the deck, in order to alarm the watch. As he ran, two
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more shots were fired at him, but with more effect than the first;
for one hit him in the leg and the other grazed his scalp.
But his efforts to alarm the watch were useless, for before he
could do so the crew was entirely secured. There were but few
pistol shots besides the four that we have mentioned; there was
but little noise, no shouting or confusion. So perfectly had the
whole thing been planned, and so thoroughly had the passengers
made themselves acquainted with the exact state of affairs on the
vessel at the appointed hour, that each man knew exactly where
he was to act, what he was to do, and with what he would have to
contend. So suddenly had they acted in obedience to the signal
given by their leader, that not one of the crew had time to use a
revolver; each, with the exception of Johnson, was secured be-
fore he suspected that any thing was wrong. Before two bells









































A Steamer Captured. 369
(one o’clock) struck, the vessel was in the hands of those who
had been merely passengers at the beginning of the voyage.
But several of the crew had been tampered with before the
enterprise was attempted, and these, like all renegades, were
most severe in their judgment as to what should be done with
their late comrades. Said one to the Confederate in command
of the captors:
“Cap'n, you’ll hev to kill every one of ’em if you want ter
git off with the vessel. Thare ain’t no use talkin’; you’ll hew
to do it, or take the consequences.”
“Very well, then,” replied Capt. Bain, brusquely, as an ex-
pression of disgust at the brutal advice crossed his face; “I’ll
take the consequences. Mr. Parr, I suppose you have obeyed the
orders given before we took possession of the vessel, and secured
and placed a guard over all the crew that have not consented to
place themselves under my command 7”
“I have done so sir; they are the captain, two mates, and four
seamen.”
“Seven 7 There should be eight. There were thirteen in all,
and only five have joined us.”
“There was one man killed, sir—the engineer in charge at the
time we took possession.”
“Where is his body ?”
“I think it is lying where he fell. After being shot in the en-
gine room, he started up the ladder to the deck, but fell forward
before he reached the open air. I noticed the body lying there
in a pool of blood as I passed with a prisoner.”
“See that it is thrown overboard without delay. Let the pris-
oners be as well treated as is consistent with their safety.”
“Very well, sir.”
“Were any wounded—either our men or prisoners ?”
“There were none of our men hit. The first mate was wound-
ed in the leg and head.”
“See that he receives the proper attention, so far as you can
give it to him.”
The vessel, of course, did not make for the port at which she
was expected, but standing farther out to sea, touched the next
day at Sea Harbor, N. B. Here they were joined by a pilot whose
services were very welcome, as the men on board knew little
about the waters around them. Indeed, the only fault to be found
with their plans was that among the men who seized the vessel,
370 A Steamer Captured.
there were but few practical seamen. The aid of the five men who
had submitted to them, however, enabled them to manage the
vessel without difficulty; the fact that one of them was an engi-
neer, the colleague of the one man killed, adding to the assistance
which the renegades were able to give.
After leaving Sea IIarbor, the Chesapeake touched at Patrick’s
Island, the next day, and landed the prisoners, who, though far
less in numbers than the crew, yet required such a guard as
materially weakened the captors; and of course the five acces-
sions could not yet be regarded with entire confidence. Then
the Chesapeake steamed away, no longer to be possessed by her
Northern owners.
Because the men who seized the vessel were not in uniform,
and the Chesapeake was not the Goverement's property, the act
was considered piracy by the United States Courts; and as late
as June, 1878, nearly fifteen years after the the thing was done,
Henry A. Parr, who acted as Capt. Bain’s lieutenant, was tried
before such a tribunal in Boston for the murder of the engineer;
but acquitted, the testimony having developed the fact that
Wade, and not Parr, fired the fatal shot. But a friendly telegram
warned Wade, at his quiet home, that he was no longer safe, and
he left for parts unknown.
Could the story be told by one of the seventeen men who took
the vessel, as the Andrews’ raid has been narrated by one of
those concerned, it would doubtless gain much interest; not
the least part of which would, probably, center in the account
of their adventures in crossing the lines, and making their way
unsuspected to New York. As it is compiled from the accounts
of contemporary newspapers, published by their enemies, and
from the dry and musty records of a court-room, it does but little
more than suggest the daring of the men who undertook the ex-
pedition, the wisdom with which it was planned, and the smooth-
ness with which it was carried out.
£HAPER XLVI.
A BREAK FOR LIBERTY.
The Old Prison—Efforts to Escape—Col. Rose's Tunnel—A False Alarm—Hor-
rors of the “Dead Cellar”—Capt. Moran Finds the Passage—The Entrance to
the Tunnel—Comrades—Into the Upper Air Again—Out of the City–-Pur-
sued—Separation—The Swamp—Surrounded—A Dash for Liberty—Into the
Enemy's Arms—Back to Libby.
N one of the back streets of the city of Richmond, Va.,
there stands a huge, time-worn brick building, originally
intended for a tobacco warehouse, and fulfilling that purpose for
a number of years; now used as a fertilizing manufactory. Not
a promising structure for the pen of historian or novelist, you
will say; but there is another part to its history; and if those
old brick walls had tongues as well as ears, what stories they
could tell ! Even as it is, they bear mute testimony that they
are not like others of their kind. In this contracted space about
the building, the stones are worn by the feet of sleepless senti-
nels pacing to and fro, keeping guard over the men who peered
wistfully from the windows above, whence the iron bars have
never been removed. Beneath that frowning portal passed
many a man in the full pride of health and youth ; the doors
clanged shut, the key turned grating in the lock, the bolts
were drawn ; and he never again beheld the unobstructed light
of day. • -
Men have passed days, months, even years, here, with nothing
to do but to wait. Dream after dream of home has mocked
both sleeping and waking hours, till hope of either peace or ex-
change has seemed a delusive and perpetual mirage. How
weary a task it was, no tongue, not even their own, could tell.
Look at the floor from which that heap of fertilizer has been but
24 - 371
A Break for
Liberty.
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A Break for Liberty. 373
this moment removed ; there is a slight memento of those long
days—a checkerboard drawn with ink upon the wood ; but the
buttons and beans with which they played have vanished, like
that dreadful time, twenty years ago.
Nor was theirs a passive endurance of their fate; many of
them escaped; from that window half a dozen of them swung
to the ground, and, with the guard, who had aided them, suc-
ceeded in reaching their friends. Even that simple iron ring in
the ceiling has its story; for when another party resolved upon
a similar effort, and found they had been betrayed to the guards
by one of their own comrades, it was to this ring that the baffled
and infuriated men hanged the traitor. Many a story could the
grim walls tell, of hope, and patience, and despair ; for this was
Libby Prison.
It is not our purpose to enter into a minute description of prison
life at any of the places used for the purpose of securing their
prisoners of war by the military authorities, Federal or Confed-
erate, during the “late on pleasantness.” For while, in either
case, the picture would to some appear grossly overdrawn, to
others it would seem that only the rudest outline had been
sketched. We prefer, then, to leave such subjects to the pens of
those who wish to write about them, and confine ourselves to
the indisputable fact that, however perfect places of residence
the various military prisons may have been, those confined in
them were always anxious to escape whenever opportunity
offered.
In the basement of the building there may still be seen traces
of the tunnel by which sixty-one prisoners on one night regained
freedom ; and it is of an episode of this, one of the most notable
and extensive escapades of the whole war, that we will now give
the particulars. -
After many fruitless attempts by the prisoners to excavate a
tunnel, through which to effect their escape, a working party of
fourteen, who were to relieve each other regularly, was Organ-
ized under Col. Rose. Having lifted the bottom of the fireplace
in the cook room and removed the bricks from the back of the
flue, they penetrated between the floor joists under the end room,
used as a hospital, into the cellar. An opening about two feet by
eighteen inches was commenced in the wall near the northeast
corner of the cellar. With no tools but their pocket knives, they
cut through the piles on which the building was supported.
*** ->.
374 A Break for Liberty.
Having penetrated into the earth, they experienced great diffi-
culty from their candles, which would not burn for want of air
in the tunnel, compelling one of the party to stand at the open-
ing and fan with his hat. The tunnel slanted downward for a
distance of about twelve feet, then upward for about the same
distance, and was nearly level the remaining distance. It was so
narrow in some places that to pass through it was necessary to
lie flat on one's face and be propelled by the hands and feet. A
slight error was made in the computation of the distance, and
thinking they had reached the inclosure, they dug up to the sur-
face; but soon discovered that they had come out in the street,
within but a few yards of the sentinels. Quickly filling up the
hole with a pair of old pants and some straw, they continued their
digging a few feet further to the desired spot under a shed in the
yard of the warehouse. They then dug to the surface and drew
an empty hogshead over the opening to conceal it in the day
time. The only implements used in this arduous work were a
large chisel and a wooden spit-box from one of the rooms above,
to convey earth in ; cords were attached to this box by which it
was drawn out by the assistants when filled ; the earth and gravel
were then carefully concealed under some straw and rubbish.
It was the night of Feb. 8th, 1864, that the tunnel was completed.
The men crawled into it, and many had emerged at the other
end, when the alarm was given that the guards were coming.
Hastily, the hundreds who had crowded about the mouth of the
tunnel rushed back to their cells, there to assume such an air of
innocence as would prevent their being punished for complicity
in the escape of their comrades. Sixty-one had entered the long,
dark passage, and finally worked their way to liberty; many of
them being sheltered close by the city, by a lady whose loyalty
to the Confederacy had never been questioned ; hidden in her
house and grounds until it was safe for them to continue their
flight.
But the cry of “guards” was a false alarm, and before long
several of those who had been so hastily scattered had again
bent their steps towards the tunnel. Among those who had not
reached this point at the time that the stampede took place was
Captain Frank E. Moran, of the 73rd New York. The news of
the completion of the tunnel, once divulged to any of those who
had not been directly concerned in it, had spread like wildfire,
and when the alarm was given it had found men at various dis-
A Break for Liberty. 375
tances from the same goal. The tidings, with a few brief direc-
tions how to proceed, had but just reached Capt. Moran when the
hasty retreat commenced. He, then, had really lost but little
time, and as soon as all was again quiet he proceeded on his way.
The first point to be made was the fireplace. Beyond the
jagged edge of the opening there was nothing to be seen but
darkness—ray less, impenetrable, slimy to the touch as the skin
of a snake. But he was not a man to fear darkness, or the Pow-
ers of Darkness, when escape from prison was to be accomplish-
LIBBY PRISCR. '
HOSPITAL
3.
£ºf IRC Plktº
CELLAR
SECTION
IMPLEMENTS
Diagram of Tunnel.
ed, and without a moment's hesitation he squeezed himself
through the aperture. Once past the portion that could be
seen from the room, he found himself in a slightly larger pas-
sage, which slanted downward from the back of the fireplace,
through the chimney to the cellar.
He arrived at the end of the incline, and found, at first, no-
thing—absolutely nothing but the thick darkness. After a
moment's groping for something which would enable him to
continue the descent—for he was fast losing his hold on the
slight projections of rock in the passage—he grasped a strip of
one of the rough army blankets. That, he knew, was the means
of farther descent; and soon his whole weight hung on it. As
his arms stretched upward, his shoulders, which he had severely
bruised in squeezing into the narrow opening of the fireplace,



376 A Break for Liberty.
gave him exquisite pain; but, disregarding this, he let himself
cautiously down to the end of the blanket rope, and stretched
his feet downward to feel for the floor.
But though he held to the very end of the rope and stretched
every muscle in the effort to touch the ground, it was still be-
neath his reach. A moment he hung there, uncertain how far
he must fall, or on what kind of a surface; dreading lest he
should come down with a noise that would alarm the guard;
sure of nothing but that he could not go back, and could not
long hang there. It was but a moment, and yet many thoughts
passed through his brain—to fall and dislocate his ankle or
break his leg, as he might do; to lie there, helpless and alone,
in the darkness and dampness of that fetid cellar; to die there
of hunger and thirst, and to be lost forever from the records of
mankind—l Still, having come this far, there was nothing to
do but to drop, and drop he did. -
Everything had been carefully arranged by the daring spirits
that had planned the escape; and although the blanket rope
was so short that a man, holding to the end of it, could not touch
the floor, the latter had been thickly strewn with straw. Capt.
Moran's melancholy anticipations, then, were quickly dispelled
as he alighted on the soft bed that broke his fall. Yet so great
was the height from which he had dropped, that he rolled over
and over, still upon the straw, before he could regain his feet.
As he fell, he became acquainted with the fact that the cellar
was not uninhabited. A hundred rats, it seemed, ran squealing
from him ; and, as he rolled over, it appeared as if the cellar was
literally alive with them. As he rose, they scampered about
him; and he could hardly set his foot down without causing a
commotion among them. -
This, of course, was a small affair ; but as it flashed across his
mind that this was the “dead cellar ’’ to which the bodies of
those who died in the hospital directly over it were removed to
await the rude burial, a feeling of unutterable loathing took pos-
session of him. How many times had these vermin climbed over
the coffins of his comrades, how many times had they with filthy,
ghoulish instinct, striven to get at the horrible feast within the
rough pine box 7
IHe had been told that the opening to the tunnel was in the wall
of this cellar, and now groped his way along until his hands
came in contact with the masonry dripping as if with blood. The
A Break for Ziberty. 377
eye, after a time, becomes accustomed to any ordinary obscurity,
and we are able to discern objects with some degree of distinct-
ness. But so intense, so perfect was this darkness, that the eye
seemed to have lost the senso of sight; no length of time spent
in it could dilate the pupil enough for it to receive a single ray
of light. The soldier could only feel his way along the slimy
wall, the very touch of which was enough to send a shudder
through the stoutest frame.
In this way he reached the corner of the room, and feeling
sure that he must have missed the entrance to the tunnel, paused
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In the Dead Cellar.
a moment to listen, for he thought he might hear some signal
from his comrades. Not a sound but the squealing of the rats
and the rustling which they made in scampering over the
straw. He felt his way back, stopping at every step, lest he
might miss some faint call. The thoughts that had come before
were but the excited dreams of an organization almost worn
out by close confinement and poor diet, and suddenly roused
by the hope of escape; but his thoughts now were from a deeper
source—the workings of a mind accustomed to recover its bal-
ance easily. Yet they were far more terrible than any of the
nervous shudderings. Suppose he should not find the entrance to
the passage-way. He must remain here, for there was no possibil-

378 A Break for Liberty.
ity of retreat; he could not reach the rope, even if he could find
the point in the floor exactly beneath it. Perhaps a numbness
would creep over him, and, while still conscious of the horror of
his fate, he would be unable to resist the thousands of vermin
whose sharp teeth would tear the quivering flesh from his bones.
But, whether a living man or a bleaching skeleton, he would in-
evitably be discovered when the corpse of the next victim of life
in Libby should be borne thither to await its burial ; and that
meant the discovery of the tunnel, the passage to freedom, for
which his companions had worked so long, and which would be
used by so many if not detected by the guards.
Should he be the cause of its detection ? Surely, if he were,
the blood of all who died in that loathsome place would be upon
his head ; and mothers and wives in their far Northern homes
would execrate the wretch whose blunders had prevented the
escape of their beloved ones from Libby. The thought of such
a fate as he had first conjured up had chilled the very blood in
his veins, brave soldier as he was ; but now this idea sent it cours-
ing back like fire to all parts of his body, inciting him to yet an-
other effort to find the mouth of the tunnel.
IIours after hours passed away and he trod a limitless dun-
geon, whose wall, dripping and slimy, extended in one unbroken
stretch for miles. His limbs grew weaker with the long jour-
ney, while the shrill treble of the harpies about him grew sharp-
er and more triumphant. At last his hand came to a break in
the wall, and he awoke from his horrible dream, awoke to know
that he had walked but a few fect from the corner, and that it
was scarcely ten minutes since he had loosed his hold on the
blanket-rope.
He stooped and put his hand towards the aperture; it came in
contact with a pair of heels, which were suddenly drawn away at
his touch.
“Who’s there?” asked a low voice, which came from the tun-
nel as deep and hollow as if from a grave.
“Moran, of the Gettysburg room. Who are you?”
“Morgan, from the Chickamauga room. Are the Rebs com-
ing?”
“No. Go ahead, so there’ll be room for me.”
Morgan scrambled on, sending a shower of dirt into Moran's
eyes, and was closely followed by the new comer. The passage
through which they were making their way was about two feet
f
A Break for Liberty. 879
in diameter, on an average, and was extremely irregular in its
course. Now ascending, now descending, they crawled on along
the cold and clammy sides of the tunnel, through air that was so
heavy and foul as to almost suffocate them.
“O—oh l’’ groaned Morgan.
“What’s the matter 7”
“Oh, my leg's cramped fearfully. I’ll have to stop a minute.”
“Try to crawl on can’t you? We’ll smother if we stay here.”
“I cant—o–oh!”
“Will it help you to take your shoe off?”
“Maybe so, but I can’t get at it—o-oh l’’
“Which leg is it?”
“The left.”
“All right; I’ll take the shoe off.”
“Bring it along, though ; I can’t afford to lose it.”
This, of course, only added to Moran’s difficulties; though, in
saying so, we have no wish to insinuate anything in regard to
the size of Capt. Morgan’s foot; under such circumstances, the
slightest thing was a drawback ; and Moran, with his bruised
shoulder, had much difficulty in working his way along what
seemed to be an endless passage. The entrance and exit of the
tunnel were about seventy feet apart; but as it had been neces-
sary to change the level quite frequently, they really had to crawl
a much greater distance.
At last, a ray of light, just bright enough to make the darkness
yet more visible, diffused itself about them, and, as they crawled
slowly on, it grew stronger and stronger. They were nearing
the end of the tunnel. At last they had reached it. Morgan clam-
bered out, and extended his hand to his companion; who, thus
assisted, was soon once more in the open air. Words cannot tell
the relief they felt on emerging from the stifling atmosphere
and pitchy darkness of the tunnel, and again drew deep breaths
of pure air. What had seemed such bright light when seen
from the underground passage-way was now perceived to be
nothing but the faint gleam of the stars, and the uncertain flick-
ering of the lamps of the city and the prison. It was enough,
however, to serve their purpose, and more would have been dan-
gerous.
They were about seventy feet from the east wall of the prison,
in a yard between two large buildings, one on the northern, one
on the southern side. In the prison yard they could see the sen-
380 A Break for Liberty.
tinels pacing to and fro, and even, as they passed under the
flaring lamps, distinguish their features. But there was no time
to watch the guards. Moran looked suspiciously at a third man
in this inclosure, but his doubts were dispelled when Morgan in-
troduced the stranger as Lieut. Watson, of his own company and
regiment, the Twenty-first Wisconsin. The three drew together
into the shelter of a shadow, and held a whispered consultation
as to what was to be done next.
The space in which they stood was inclosed on three sides,
opening on the fourth to the street. The prison was on the west,
the two other buildings on the north and south ; they could only
proceed, then, in an easterly direction. After a few moments’
counsel together, the three Federals removed their shoes, in
order that they might walk with less noise, and, if pursued, run
faster. In accordance with their plans, Lieut. Watson was the
first to emerge from the deep shadow in which they stood ; and
as he walked down the street he was followed, at an interval of
about two minutes, by Morgan. Moran, standing in the shadow,
watched the guards and the retreating forms of his comrades
alternately. Once the two Confederates drew together, and, to
the anxious eyes of the solitary Federal, seemed to have seen
the two men walking down the street; but it was a false alarm,
for they separated in a moment, and each went back to his own
proper place.
At last Morgan had had the start upon which they had agreed,
and Moran followed as swiftly and noiselessly as the others had
gone. The rendezvous was at the second corner, and from this
point they went on together for some distance, directing their
steps, of course, towards the confines of the city. The huge grim
warehouses that had at first surrounded them had been left far
behind, and the cottages were far more thinly scattered than had
been the houses which they first passed. Gradually, the streets
lost the air of frequent use, and became mere country roads.
Thus stealing along, from shadow to shadow, the three fugitives
were beyond the limits of the Confederate capital.
It was nearly the end of the long winter night; indeed, for
many men it was already the end, when a sound of fearful sig-
nificance was heard—the measured tread of horses’ feet. There
was a moment’s hasty consultation, and they agreed to separate;
to conceal themselves until after the pursuers had passed, and
then to follow in their wake towards a certain densely wooded
A Break for Liberty. 381
swamp, where they would again unite. Hardly had this been
done than they scattered, in accordance with the agreement,
each man to find a hiding-place for himself.
Everything worked well, and the Confederates soon rode by,
little dreaming what prey was within a few steps of them. Once
they were out of sight, the Federals crept cautiously out from
their places of concealment and made their way, by three differ-
ent routes, to the rendezvous in the swamp. It was by this time
broad day, and no time was to be lost in gaining the friendly
shelter of the forest. Moran followed directly on the trail of the
Confederates, and soon came to the border of a field whence he
could command a view to the north full half a mile in extent.
The Confederates, whom he had been following closely, had dis-
appeared, leaving no trace of their course. There was no place
where they could have found shelter, except a small farm house,
a thousand yards away, which they could not possibly have
reached in that space of time.
The field rose like an island out of the densely wooded swamp
through a portion of which he had already come, and much of
which lay beyond the patch of dry ground. What could have
become of the horsemen whom he had been following 7 They
must have deployed along some cross-road whose existence was
unknown to him, in order to surround the swamp, and thus
effectually prevent the escape of the fugitives. In order to get
away by the route that they would least suspect, Capt. Moran
turned and ran back along the very path by which he had ad-
vanced ; hoping, by avoiding the swamp altogether, to elude
their grasp.
But he had not taken a dozen steps, when he found that his
movements were watched by the concealed enemy. A long, clear
whistle to his right was answered by a similar one from the
opposite side. What was his horror to see that his two com-
panions had mistaken these signals of the enemy for his own;
and now, in answer to them, came running into the open space
from the woods that had concealed them from his view
But he had no time to lament that others had run into danger;
his own peril was too pressing. The long, clear whistles were
repeated all around him, as the sound of a bugle is sent back and
forth a dozen times by the rocky cliffs that line the valley. He
could hear the crash of the thick underbrush as the dismounted
troopers forced their way through it as soon as they heard the
382 A Break for Liberty.
order to close up. He stood still a moment, like a stag at bay,
while the “dogs of war” were ready to spring at his throat;
then bounded off toward what seemed to be an avenue of escape.
No sound had as yet been heard from the east, the direction in
which lay Richmond; and that was the way by which he hoped
to escape. With desperate energy he summoned all his powers
of speed, and dashed along towards the rising sun. The treach-
erous bog gave way beneath his weight, for he had no time to
pick his steps or hunt a path. The earth clung to his shoes, and
one was left in the mire. The other was hastily wrenched from
his foot and cast aside, that there might be nothing to retard
him. At last his way crossed a cow-path, trodden hard ; and
along this better road he made better time. One of the huge
forest trees had been felled by the storms of that winter, and lay
directly across his path ; upon the great trunk he leaped, then
down again to the ground on the other side.
His shoeless feet had fallen silently on the path as he advanced;
when he bounded upon the tree, then, he startled the very Con-
federate who had been posted behind the trunk to keep a look-
out for the prisoners; the Reb, a burly giant, jumped up, and,
without pausing to see or question the new comer, took to his
heels, leaving his carbine leaning against the tree. The Federal,
not taking time to secure the weapon, which, indeed, would have
only been an incumbrance, dashed on. The gray-jacket stum-
bled and fell flat; the blue-coat leaped across his prostrate body
and plunged on, only to find three carbines presented at his
breast, and to hear the ominous command to “halt!” in his ears.
“Surrender P’ bellowed the fallen hero, as he picked himself
up. But the three who had stood their ground greeted him with
such a peal of mocking laughter that he retreated almost as sud-
denly as he had come. To the Federal, however, it was no laugh-
ing matter, for the three Confederates were sufficiently in earn-
est to secure their prisoner.
The party now drew together, and Moran found that his hopes
of the escape of his comrades had been doomed to disappoint-
ment; for they had been taken while he was making the last
desperate effort to regain his liberty. They could do nothing
but condole with each other, and await the pleasure of their cap-
tors. As these were soldiers, and not prison guards, the retaken
prisoners were kindly treated; Moran's shoes were hunted up
for him, and all three were fed liberally from the haversacks of
A Break for Liberty. 383
their captors. But though they were half famished by the un-
wonted exertion, and the keen air of the winter morning was
enough to whet the hunger of any others, the appetite of these
were dulled by the thought that in a few hours more they would
again be confined within the walls of Libby Prison.
The Confederates informed the prisoners that they had hardly
hoped to find them in the swamp ; and that a start of one hour
more would probably have insured their escape, as they were
when retaken, outside of the Confederate lines, and almost with-
in sight of the smoke from the Federal picket fires. But all this,
of course, was slight consolation to the poor fellows who had
tried so hard to escape.
£HAPER XLVII.
ADVENTURES OF AN ARTFUL DODGER.
The Scout's Errand—His Force—Mode of Proceeding—A Bivouac in the Woods
—Salt Mule and Sheet-iron Crackers—A Rude Awakening—“Let Me Dream
Again"—Not So Fast Asleep as the Enemy Thought—Flight—Surrounded
—Concealed—Discovered—The Difficulty of Riding a Mule—Where is He
—Nowhere—Safe.
MONG the scouts attached to Gen. “Jeb '' Stuart’s division
was one who shall be known to these pages by the roman-
tic and uncommon name of Smith. Truth to tell, authorities
differ much in regard to the spelling of his cognomen, so that
the initial letter is the only one that appears to be undisputed.
Now, the directories show that if a man’s name begins with “S,”
the probabilities are in favor of Smith against any other one
appellation; then the scout shall be known to these pages as
Frank Smith.
|But think not, because the mere form of his name has not been
perpetuated, that it does not deserve to be remembered. The
estimation in which he was held by the commanding officer is
shown by the fact that, although he steadily refused a commis-
sion, as a partisan officer, lest his freedom of movement might
be thereby curtailed, he was made the superior of a party of
three, sent to reconnoiter the Federal camp and forces, then ly-
ing around Culpepper Court House and Mitchell’s Station. Gen.
Meade had, within the last few days, thrown forward a consider-
able body of troops to the latter point, and the duty of the
scouts was mainly to find out the character, strength and destin-
ation of this force.
Ileaving their horses at a safe distance from the camp, they
made their way cautiously towards the Station, and by carefully
* * 384
Adventures of an Artful Dodger. 335
working around under shelter of every cover that was possibly
available, they ascertained as much as a mere reconnoissance
would permit. There was only one way in which to obtain
more information, and that was by questioning prisoners. But
in order to do this, they must have some prisoners to question.
All three were skilled in their calling, and had often been on
such expeditions before, and felt not the slightest doubt of their
ability, singly or together, to acquire knowledge by this means.
IHowever,
“The best laid plans of mice and men
Gang aft aglee.”
They lurked about the camp until night drew on; until all the
duties of the day were done; until taps had sounded, and the
soldiers, save those whom duty kept awake, were wrapped in
slumber; but still there was no chance of taking a prisoner,
“Reckon we might as well bivouac, boys,” said Smith, as they
met at the rendezvous previously appointed ; “there don’t seem
to be much chance of any fun yet awhile.”
“There was a party of foragers passed within ten feet of me,”
sighed one of his companions, “but there were too many of
them.”
“How many ?” asked the second.
“Seven,” was the reply.
“”Tisn’t safe to tackle more than you can easily manage,” ob-
served Smith. “At this little distance from the camp, you might
have to shoot, and that would bring out a company.”
“Where shall we bivouac Ż”
“Somewhere in the woods. There's a right good place just
over there to the left; suppose we go there?”
“All right; let's hurry; I'm tired. Is it a well-sheltered place?
It looks mightily like rain.”
“Oh, yes; its right in a sort of a hollow, with the brush thick
all around it.”
“How long shall we wait, Smith ?”
“About an hour. The stragglers will be getting in about that
time, and we’ll be more alert if we have a rest. Here’s the
place; how do you like it?”
“First-rate. Don’t you think we could have a fire 7”
“That was one thing that made me think of coming here; its
so far away, and the brush is so thick that they’d never see it at
the camp, even if it wasn’t in the hollow. We can keep it from
386 Adventures of an Artful Dodger.
blazing too much, and shall be mighty comfortable, all things
considered.”
The keen air of the November night had benumbed their
hands and chilled their limbs, and exercise had, of course, been
impossible. Over the shaded blaze, then, they spread their
cold fingers, even before they turned their attention to what the
slang of the time termed salt mule and sheet-iron crackers; but
which, however undervalued in times of peace and plenty, men
found extremely palatable when nothing else was obtainable,
and even these articles somewhat scarce. Our scouts, certainly,
did not object to the bill of fare, nor did they complain because
a blanket must be their only shelter from the chilly air, the
ground their only bed. Huddling close together about the fire,
they were soon fast asleep.
The hour set apart for rest passed away, but, worn out with
the day’s watching, they did not awake. It is not the least of
the scout’s hardships that there is a constant strain on the nerv-
ous system, even when he is apparently passively watchful; and
for this reason, he is apt, when once he gives himself up to slum-
ber, to sleep more soundly than a man engaged in manual labor.
Hour after hour passed, and still they slept on, quietly as chil-
dren. Not even the drizzling rain which began to fall as dawn
approached could awaken them ; had it been a harder shower,
the discomfort would perhaps have roused them, but it was just
enough to soak their clothes gradually.
It was barely daylight when a squad of Federal soldiers ap-
proached their camp.
“Hello! What’s this?” exclaimed one of the blue-coats as they
came in sight of the sleeping party.
“’Sh !” cautioned another, “Don’t waken them till we find
out.”
They drew nearer silently, and perceived the gray uniforms.
At a signal from the sergeant, every musket was pointed at
Smith’s breast.
“Hey, Johnnie Reb,” he called, “hadn’t you better wake up
and get in out of the wet?”
At the first sound that the soldiers had made in cocking their
muskets, Smith had wakened ; but he saw no chance of escape.
Looking through his half-closed eyelids he perceived that any
attempt to reach his pistols would mean six balls in his breast;
and in order to give himself more time to think, wrapped himself
Adventures of an Artful Dodger.
Maybe you won’t find the wake
But the dreams were all waking ones, and in the brains of the
“O go 'way and let me alone.”
Federals; for they were busily
“Pleasant dreams, Johnnie.
closer in his blanket, and turning over muttered sleepily
up part quite as pleasant.”
g his chagrin and morti-
imaginin
fication when he should find himself a prisoner; and he, though
dr
lumber, was cautious-
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istol at his
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hand down, under the blanket, to the p
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we had our fun now, and I gu
i
A Rude Awakening
it from
t as the Federal sergeant sa
“Well
have to get up, whether you like it or not.”
y
his feet the five muskets were discharged at
him. Fortunately, the sudden death of their comrade had so far
v ſº
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ie, we
IS
ped, as he spoke, and grasping a corner of the Confed-
erate’s blanket, was about to pull it from him, when the pistol
was discharged, its muzzle touching the breast of his blouse; and
without a groan, he fell forward on the Confederate, dead.
Smith struggled to free himself from this incumbrance, but be-
Johnn
2
№
He stoo
ly moving h
Jus
ir aim was uncertain, and the
gain
unsteadied their nerves that the
fore he could re

25
388 Adventures of an Artful Dodger.
balls buried themselves in the body of their own dead officer.
The noise of the shots had awakened the other sleepers; one,
taking in the situation at a glance, and probably, thinking that
in this case at least discretion was by far the better part of
valor, took to his heels and departed, ignominiously, but in Safe-
ty. The other, not that he loved life less, but honor more, made
a stand against the assailants; but he had not been careful to
place his pistols safe from the rain, and when he pulled the trig-
ger, the cap snapped.
Meanwhile Smith had not been idle. As he rose he fired the
five shots still remaining to him with great rapidity, but with as
steady a hand as if the target were not a living one. Two of the
five took effect, though not fatally; and the three who were still
unhurt, having discharged their guns and not having time to re-
load, retreated rapidly towards camp, followed by their wound-
ed comrades. Naturally Smith and his companion had no desire
to pursue the fugitives; knowing that, in a few moments, the
entire camp would be alarmed and a large detachment sent out
to bring them in, they made the best of their time in getting
away from the scene of the skirmish, separating in order that
they might double the chances of escape.
Smith had put off his haversack and shoes when he lay down;
his blanket, as a matter of course, must be abandoned. All su-
perfluous baggage was thus of necessity left behind; though
such articles have seldom been considered as such, even by
Stonewall Jackson’s “foot cavalry,” famous for its rapid march-
es and its dependence upon the enemy's stores for subsistence.
But even thus unincumbered, even to the point of lacking
necessaries, he felt that danger thickened around him. The
Federals had found their comrades in camp, already on the qui
vive to know the meaning of the shots which they had heard ;
and when their story was told, all were eager for revenge. A cav-
alry force was sent to block the way to the mountains; and in
a few moments it seemed that every avenue of escape was closed
by squads of infantry. He was not half a mile from the starting
point when he saw that he was surrounded on every side.
It was, indeed, a dark outlook for the scout; he knew that, if
captured, although he was in full Confederate uniform and wore
side-arms, he would would be treated as a guerilla, perhaps as a
spy; yet escape seemed well-nigh impossible. With such a fate
in prospect he could not surrender, even if he had not previ-
entures of an Artful Dodger. 389
ously sworn that he would never be taken alive; there was but
one course open if he failed to elude his hundreds of pursuers,
and that was to sell his life as dearly as possible. Onward, then,
he crept, now sheltering himself in the thick bushes, peering out
to see if it were safe for him to dart across the comparatively
open spaces; now stealing along where an audible footstep
might be a signal to his enemies.
As the pursuers closed in upon him, he was driven to the more
open parts of the forest, where not only were the trees more
scattered, but there was little or no undergrowth. Hitherto,
caution had been most necessary; now it was speed. He had
turned and doubled upon his pursuers like a hare before the
hounds, and now stood upon the border of a small field, where
he must either risk taking the open space or returning upon his
footsteps. The cries of his antagonists grew louder and clearer
as they lessened the distance, showing that the second course
was entirely impracticable. With the energy of desperation,
then, he bounded across the field, towards a small group of pines
that had been left in the centre of the clearing.
One of these had been felled but the day before, and its foliage
was still abundant enough to afford a hiding-place. Into the
midst of it he made his way, and for a few brief moments there
was a breathing space for the hunted man. Crouching among
the boughs, he made use of this golden opportunity to reload his
revolver, for he knew not how soon again he would be engaged
in a hand-to-hand encounter, as desperate as that at the bivouac.
Nearer and nearer came the pursuers, their approach made
known by their wild cries as well as the tramp of many feet
upon the soft earth and the rustling of the branches which
must often be put aside as they made their way through the
forest. They reached the fence which divided the cleared field
from the wood; hastily demolishing the frail structure of rails,
they dashed along—four of them. -
Closely they examined the field, going up to the clump of pine
trees and peering curiously around them. The scout cowered
down low in his hiding-place, and held his breath, lest even a
sigh betray him.
“O, I guess he ain’t there, boys; there ain't any place big
enough for him to hide that I havn’t looked into. Come on;
let’s go.”
They hurried off; and the scout, relieved, raised his head.

390 Adventures of an Artful Dodger.
As he did so, the slight rustling thus occasioned caught the quick
ear of one of the Federals, who, less easily satisfied than his com-
rades, had lagged a little behind them. As the Yankee turned
his head quickly, his eye met the scout's.
“Here he is, boys,” was the exclamation.
“Where, where 7” cried many voices, as they gathered from
all parts of the surrounding woods within earshot, and hurried
to the spot whence the shout had come.
The scout sprang to his feet as soon as he saw that his presence
was discovered; the three immediate companions of the keen-eyed
Federal had rejoined him immediately, and for a moment the
enemies stood glaring at each other. Not a movement was made,
for secure in the knowledge of large and certain reinforcements,
the assailants made no advance against the desperate man now
surrounded; while he paused only as the tiger pauses before
making its final leap upon its prey.
He had only the loads in two revolvers with which to defend
himself; further flight was well-nigh impossible, for his unpro-
tected feet were torn and bruised by their previous service; his
pursuers were fresh.
“A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse P’
How soon the circle that was closing around him might num-
ber hundreds in place of a score or so, he could not tell; certain-
ly it would not be many minutes. But with strength already se-
verely taxed by the chase, how could he break through that ring
and gain on them enough to enable him finally to escape their
clutches.
It all flashed through his mind as a message flashes over the
wires; and the charm that held them gazing at him as the
snake's eyes are fixed upon its trembling, fluttering victim had
not ceased when his blazing glance lighted on a venerable white
mule, quietly grazing in the field, not twenty feet off. A leap, a
bound, and he was past them ; a moment more, and he was again
bestriding a steed. He clutched the mane convulsively and dug
his shoeless heels into the mule's sides. The ancient animal, much
astonished at these proceedings, as well as by the shots that came
whizzing past, set off at full speed ; nothing better could have
been desired by the scout. After him came the Federals in full
chase, and he was just congratulating himself that the harmless
shots they fired at him served in place of spur and whip, when,
with all the perversity of his nature, the mule changed his mind,
Adventures of an Artful Dodger. 391
and concluded he did not want a rider who goaded so sharply.
Trained to field sports from his boyhood, Smith kept his seat,
though the animal seemed to wish to use his hind legs only; but
the mule had been accustomed to be backed by good riders, and
when he found that this one was not to be thus unseated, began
to arch his back in that peculiarly aggravating manner known
as “bucking.” The combination, together with very vigorous
kicking, was enough to unhorse the best of riders, and the Scout
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soon found himself sprawling upon the ground. His pursuers
urged their lagging steps still faster as they saw their game
falling so certainly within their clutches; but the fugitive had
no mind to be thus taken. Gathering himself up almost as soon
as he touched the earth, he darted into the woods, the border of
which had been reached, followed by a storm of bullets, shouts
and curses.
Feeling themselves still more certain of their prey than ever
they had been before, since there is a limit to human endurance,
the Federals pressed eagerly onward. The scout was desperate.
His limbs were trembling, his feet were sore, his very veins

392 Adventures of an Artful Dodger.
seemed filled with liquid fire. If he kept on, he could hardly
ſail to be overtaken ; then would it not be as well to turn now,
and with the ten loads of his revolvers, fight as long as possible,
and, when they were gone, die? But first, he must have some
water—it mattered little how short the span of life that remain-
ed to him, he must assuage the burning thirst that was torment-
ing him. •
Kneeling a moment on the bank of a clear brook which cross-
ed his path, he took one long draught of the sweet, cool water.
Nearer and nearer came his enemies, and springing to his feet,
he had barely time to make for the bushes that skirted the
stream when they were in sight. They were at first disposed to
make but a cursory examination, supposing that of course
he had gone on farther; but one of them saw the print of his
knee on the sandy bank of the stream.
“He stopped here to drink, so he can’t be far off; he hasn’t
had time to get away.”
In an instant the field was surrounded and every preparation
made for a diligent search. Not a mouse could have left that
tract of land, save by an underground passage, unperceived by
the cordon of soldiers that surrounded it; so thickly were they
posted. Others were more directly occupied in the search. So
closely did they examine the ground that they even put aside the
bushes and peered into the depths of leafage.
The scout lay flat on his back in one of these coverts, a revol-
ver, loaded and cocked, in each hand. His plan was simple:
when they came to look into that bush as closely as into those
near by, the first man would be his first victim. At such short
range, his ten bullets would only fail to put as many enemies
out of the world, if they took good aim before he could empty all
the barrels. If they should not do so, and should fall back, or
even waver an instant before a fire so murderous, he would again
break through their masses and seek another shelter.
As he lay, calculating his chances, a small party approached
the bush in which he was concealed. Branch after branch was
pulled aside, but without success.
44 D n it, where in the devil can he be?” exclaimed one in
tones more forcible than polite.
The rejoinder intimated that if he wasn’t in a very hot place,
the name of which has since been changed, it was not because he
did not deserve it.
Adventures of an Artful Dodger. 393
“Well, he ain’t here at any rate,” replied the first, moving
away.
“Don’t know about that ; I guess I’ll take another look.”
As he bends again over the bushes, and pulls away the branch-
es, there is, not three feet away, a revolver pointed, with dead-
ly aim, at his heart. Why cannot he see the eyes gleaming with
a deadly light, just beneath his own 7 Has his good genius
blinded him 7 It would indeed seem so, for he gave up the search
after a few moments, with the words:
“I guess you were right about it, Jim ; he don’t seem to be
there.”
“Hang him, he don’t seem to be anywhere.”
“But how can we hang him when we haven’t got him 7” quer-
ied a wag with ghastly wit.
“Well, boys, no success yet 7” asked an officer coming up.
“Not a bit, sir; I’d be willing to take my oath on it that he
ain’t anywhere in this field.”
“He must be. Are you sure he isn’t anywhere in this under-
growth 7
“We’ve pulled aside the branches of every bush in this clump
and the next, and the one beyond that, sir. I don't think there's
a square foot of the ground they cover that we haven’t seen.”
The voices died away as this by no means unwelcome assur-
ance was conveyed to his ear; and the scout felt free to breathe
again.
All day long he lay there, hearing the voices and the footsteps
of his enemies, as they discussed the hunt ; the difficulties with
which they had already met, the chances of their final success.
As the day passed away, and it seemed more and more impossible
that he could be concealed within the limits of a space so narrow
and so thoroughly searched, the number of guards was dimin-
ished. As night drew on, he gathered his strength for a final
trial ; creeping silently from his hiding-place he managed, un-
der cover of the dense blackness of the night and the rain, to
pass the sentinels stationed to guard the field. The same circum-
stances enabled him to elude the pickets. Once beyond the Fed-
eral lines, speed was of more importance than caution ; and a val-
uable assistant in his flight was awaiting him at a well-known
point—his horse. Making his way to the place where he had left
the animal when he first approached the Federal camp, he was
soon mounted and able to defy his pursuers.
394 Adventures of an Artful Dodger.
By dint of consuming the rest of the night on the road, he
reached the Confederate lines at daybreak the next morning, to
find his two companions on the scout had escaped without diffi-
culty. The fact that he had shot the sergeant that first awakened
him, made the pursuers bend every effort to secure him, rather
than his comrade. The information that he brought in regard
to Gen. Meade's forces, had, of course, been already given to the
commanding general by the other Scouts, who had supposed
Smith killed or captured.
£HAFTER XLVIII.
CAPTURING A PARTISAN.
The Partisan's Record—Efforts to Take Him—A Discovery—Pursuit by Two
Men—A Rough Road—A Cold Bath and Its Results—Dashing Onward—
The Scent Lost—Another Finds It—The Capture—Return—Value of the
Prisoners—The Captor's Surprise.
HEREVER the numbers of Unionists and Secessionists
V V were nearly equally balanced, the War raged with a fury
unknown in those regions where one party maintained a decided
majority. Private wrongs were avenged as the predominance of
one party gave power to the injured man; and when the balance
turned, and the section was filled with the soldiers of the other
army, he was often made to pay dearly for his vengeance. Un-
der such circumstances many a man “took to the brush,” and
all the horrors of partisan or guerilla warfare were added to
those troubles which the whole country endured. Among the
states in which such a condition of affairs prevailed was Tenn-
essee, and we would now narrate the effort to capture a noted
Confederate partisan of that state.
Col. Duncan Cooper had for a long time troubled the Federals
there very much, and many scouting parties had been sent out
after him, only to return empty-handed. After innumerable
parties had tried to capture him, and as many failed, the pro-
ject began to be looked upon as something nearly or quite im-
possible; and though many a venturesome body of scouts asked
permission to undertake it, the request was always granted with
the assurance, on the part of the commanding officer that they
would return as they came.
Such was the state of affairs when, one afternoon in the latter
part of February, 1864, a party of six or eight recruiting officers
395
396 Capturing a Partisan.
were riding leisurely along, on the banks of Swan Creek, some
twenty miles west of Columbia. They were somewhat in ad-
vance of the foraging detail, which was pursuing the same road.
Suddenly the advance party discovered four guerillas, riding as
carelessly as themselves, along a by-way to the right. Every
man was instantly ready with his pistol, and the reports rang
out simultaneously. The partisans, evidently surprised by this
rude announcement that the enemy was in their neighborhood,
looked back to see the strength of the attacking force; and per-
ceiving that it was nearly double their own, galloped off with-
out returning the fire.
Among the Federals was a private of the Fiftieth Illinois, Sto-
vall by name. Without waiting for order or signal he obeyed the
brave man’s first impulse, and dashed after the retreating enemy.
The others, more prudent, or mounted on less manageable steeds,
remained behind ; until, for very shame, one of them, Lieut.
Nelson, found a way to make his horse follow Stovall's lead,
though at the distance of twenty yards.
It was by no means easy to follow the course of the partisans,
for they had chosen a path which led along a rough, stony creek.
At times the low banks disappeared entirely, and only over-
hanging bluffs or ascents too steep for mounted men to ride
across, bordered the stream. At such places, of course, their
way must lie along the very bed of the creek. But while this
seemed rather against the pursuers, whose horses had not been
trained to the rough roads of that section, it turned out to be of
advantage. The weather was bitterly cold, and many of the
stones that bordered the creek were covered with ice; indeed,
only the swift current of the creek prevented its being frozen
solid. Any one who has ever attempted to walk down hill up-
on a bowlder pavement just after a fall of sleet, will appreciate
the difficulty which the horses had in keeping their feet, especi-
ally when descending to the bed of the stream.
While leaving the bank, the horse ridden by one of the Confed-
erates slipped and fell, throwing his rider over his head into the
icy water. The dismounted man rapidly scrambled out, for the
pursuit was too hot to allow of much delay; but his haste was in
vain. The horse had soon regained his footing, and frightened
at the sudden change in the weight upon his back, and no longer
restrained by a strong hand upon the rein, galloped madly up
the steep ascent, riderless.
Capturing a Partisan. 397
The dismounted man tried to mount behind one of his compan-
ions, but the horse was restive, and refused to carry double.
Some time was lost in this way, and when the animal was finally
halted and brought under control, the saddle turned as the
unhorsed man gained the coveted seat, throwing both would-be
riders into the creek. The delay had been fatal, for before they
had recovered themselves, Stoval] dashed up and, seeing their
plight, called upon them to surrender. Unhorsed, the weight of
.*.xº,
*:: %.
- **- :
***,x*R*…º:
…s.º.º.:*- :
tº:
&sº
* ****:::2/3%'ſº
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fºrts
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A Cold Bath.
their clothing increased greatly by the drenching they had re-
ceived, their arms rendered unavailable by reason of the same
misfortune, they sullenly admitted themselves his prisoners.
Although their firearms were rendered useless by the water,
he took time to disarm them, for they carried swords and knives.
This, however, occupied but a moment; and waving his pistol
above his head with a shout of triumph, the Federal dashed on
at the same speed as before after the other two who by this
time were entirely out of sight. His rapid riding was somewhat
of a disadvantage, for he did not pause to track the fugitives

398 Capturing a Partisan.
carefully and pursued the same road when he should have turn-
ed aside at a certain point.
Let us now return to Lieut. Nelson. Riding after Stovall, he
found the prisoners that the latter had disarmed, trying to wring
the water out of their clothes and otherwise make themselves
somewhat more comfortable. Ilearning that Stovall had not
exacted a parole of them, but had contented himself with simply
disarming them, the officer thought it best to remain in charge
of them, at least until some one else should come up. He had
seen the other Confederates turn from the road, being at the
time on a higher portion of the rocky path, which commanded a
wider view than his present position; and felt assured that Sto-
wall had not perceived the change of course. It was with some
impatience, then, that he remained with the prisoners and with
great joy that he saw a third member of the recruiting party
leisurely riding towards him. Calling to the new comer to hurry
forward to the prisoners, he set spurs to his horse and galloped
after the two who had eluded Stovall.
IIaving noticed the point at which they had left the road, he
had at first but little difficulty in following them, for the tracks of
their horses’ feet were plainly visible in the light snow with
which this sheltered road was covered. But as he rode out from
among the trees, where the snow had melted in the sun, and the
ground had frozen hard again at night, his task was more difficult.
He rode hastily up the first road by which he could ascend the
hill, and having gained the summit, looked down upon the coun-
try around him. He had taken the right path; there, in the hol-
low at the foot of the hill, the two Confederates had stopped to
adjust their saddles. He felt a momentary doubt as to the result
of the encounter alone with two of the enemy ; but it was no
time to retreat, save ingloriously, and that he would not do.
“Surrender, if you value your lives,” he cried, riding down
towards them as if he had a company at his back.
They sprang to their saddles, and were off like the wind. “I
galloped, he galloped, we galloped all three.” Shot after shot
the Federal sent after the flying enemy, but so uneven was the
ground and so devious was their course that not a bullet reached
its mark. At last, however, there was one apparently, which
whistled alarmingly near to their ears, and, that at least one
might escape, they separated. The horses of the two who had
been captured had followed these men, and now that they sep-
Capturing a Partisan. 399
arated, continued with the one who took the path they knew best.
After this man, as the more valuable prize if taken, the Fed-
eral took his way. Closer and closer they drew together, pur-
suer and pursued; but the shots of the former were still as inef-
fective as ever. Nelson was now convinced that it must come to
a personal struggle, for his revolvers were nearly empty, and he
had no time to reload. He determined to spur up alongside the
Confederate, and, with a blow from the butt of a pistol, knock
him off his horse. -
No sooner was the plan conceived than he proceeded to put it
into execution. He had reached the desired position ; the weap-
on was raised for the blow, when the Reb, seeing that it was in-
evitable, yielded himself a prisoner. Hastily disarming him,
Lieut. Nelson directed him to catch the two loose horses; this
was readily done, and the two rode back in more leisurely style
over the path by which they had just advanced so hastily.
Thus they returned to the point where Nelson had left Sto-
vall’s prisoners in charge of the third Federal in the chase. This
was Sergeant Craig, who was in command of the foraging party,
and who belonged to a different regiment from either of the
others, having been stationed in that section for a longer time
and frequently employed in scouting. Stovall came up almost
at the same time, tired and much chagrined at the loss of his
game. But Craig had a consolation for him. Leaving the pris-
oners to the care of the rest of the party, for all had now come
up, he drew the two pursuers slightly aside and asked :
“Do you know who you have taken 7”
“Guerillas, ain’t they?”
“I should say so. Why, that one”—and he designated the Con-
federate whose horse had slipped in descending the bank —
“that one is Duncan Cooper, that we’ve been trying to catch for
the last six or eight months.”
Stovall gave a long whistle.
“Well,” said he, “I don’t feel quite so bad as I did. It did cut
me up awfully to think I’d ridden so far and hadn't caught any
game. I thought they’d all got away from us for good.”
The three prisoners, with the three horses, were conveyed back
to camp, where all were heartily welcomed, but one especially
so, though the welcome was not a particularly loving one.
£HAPTER XLIX,
COL. MIENEFEE'S RIDE FOR LIFE.
The Partisans and Their Outfit—A Skirmish in the Woods—Federal Reinforce-
ments—Retreat of Confederates—Pursuit—The Mountain Side—For the Sake
of One of His Men—A Steep Descent—A Dash Down It.
66 PROPHET is not without honor, save in his own coun-
( \ try and among his own people;” but it is different in the
case of the partisan. His services are much appreciated by those
who are nearest to him; and while he is often forgotten by the
grave historian, his name is remembered by the people long af.
ter his bones are dust. His is the wildly stirring life, spent in the
saddle, in the mountain fastnesses, in the deep recesses of the
woods; harassing the enemy as the gadfly the horse. Such was
Col. N. Menefee, a gallant Kentuckian, who, at a comparatively
early date in the war, received a commission in the Confeder-
ate army. He was favorably known far and wide for his daring
courage, and many men from the eastern section of his native
state flocked to his standard. They had not the latest and most
approved pattern of arms, it is true; many of them were provid-
ed with only the old-fashioned flint-lock muskets, such as our
great grandfathers, perhaps, shouldered when they marched
against King George; but they were steady hands that aimed the
ancient guns, and warm, brave hearts that beat with pleasure
when the enemy was near. Such were the men that came to him,
no unworthy leader.
There was a skirmish in the woods—of no importance, the his-
torian, or even the newspaper would say. It was nothing but a
chance meeting of a Federal scouting party with a body of Con-
federate partisans—that was all. There were a few volleys fired
400
Col. Menefee's Ride for Life. 401
on either side, but they were somewhat irregular; for the ancient
percussion caps and breech-loaders were by no means certain to
go off, and it was not long before the better armed, but less de-
termined force retreated in considerable disorder. Two of their
number were left upon the field, while a Confederate made the
third in this “bivouac of the dead.” Four of the Federals, al-
though wounded, were able to ride off to camp with their com-
rades.
But the Federals had had an object in view when they retreat-
ed—they gave the alarm in camp ; the long roll was sounded,
but it was subsequently determined to send no more than three
hundred men out, since it was certain that the enemy could not
number a tenth as many. In reality, there were but thirteen of
Menefee's men, but the excited imagination of the Federals, who
were raw troops had trebled their strength. The Confederates,
of course, could not make a stand against such a force, and the
order was given to retreat. It came too late for them to make
their way off in perfect safety, without a rear guard, and this
duty the leader took upon himself. Mounted on a fine blooded
mare which had carried him gallantly to the hunt and the battle,
he felt confident that her speed could save him, come what might;
and while his men were climbing the mountain cliffs, he remain-
ed to watch the enemy.
For nearly an hour after his men had left him, he stayed there,
while the enemy searched for the little party. At last, knowing
that farther delay would be dangerous, he turned his horse’s
head up Elk Horn Creek. High crags and inaccessible bluffs
rose on one side of him, while, on the other stretched upward
the rugged slopes of Cumberland Mountain, three miles high.
His path lay through this one narrow defile; if the enemy ap-
peared at one end of it, only the speed of his horse would ena-
ble him to escape; for to climb that mass of bowlders and laurel
thickets was well-nigh impossible for a man on foot; and it had
long been considered totally inaccessible to animals.
Onward he rode, supposing himself entirely safe, and his men
escaped to the mountain fastnesses, whither the enemy could not
follow them. The ravine through which the creek ran was sev-
eral miles in length, and had but few openings. The Federals
could only approach him from the rear; excellently mounted,
and thoroughly acquainted with the country, he could not fail to
make his escape good.
402 Col. Menefee's Ride for Life.
But even as he thus congratulated himself on the certainty of
security for himself and his command, his enemies were prose-
cuting the search. The scouting party had lost, in killed and
wounded, a fourth of their numbers; and their comrades were
eager to avenge the injuries,received. The Confederate's mare,
faithful as a watch-dog, gave a loud, shrill snort; and looking
ahead, he saw a body of at least a hundred Federal troopers
emerging from one of the few openings in the side of the ravine.
He had calculated that they either would not suspect his course
or would fail to find these cross valleys; but his calculations
were at fault. There was not a moment to be lost, for they had
already perceived him. The bluffs rose nearly perpendicularly,
and would, even if he gained the summit, afford him no advan-
tages, for he would be closely followed by the Federals; and
the enemy might have additional forces within call. To ride
forward was to rush into their very arms; to retreat was mad-
ness; to ascend the mountain side was, in the eyes of all the dar-
ing hunters of the section, impossible for a horseman.
Surrender he would not, and the only alternative was to climb
those steep and rugged slopes. Hardly had the enemy been seen
than his resolution was taken, and reining his mare to the bluffs,
to give her a good start over the comparatively level ground, he
urged her forward. The exultation which had gleamed in the
eyes of the Federals as they looked upon their assured prey van-
ished as they saw that prey about to escape their clutches; and
with a series of wild yells they rode after him. They knew it
was impossible for them to ascend the mountain on horseback,
and when they came to the ascent, they dismounted and prepar-
ed to continue the chase on foot.
The mountain consists of a series of terraces, locally known
as “benches,” from which the action of the wind and the waters
has carried the softer materials, leaving a hard and rocky soil,
where only the hardiest of plants will grow. The slopes between
these benches are steep and rugged, but the more fertile soil is
covered with a denser growth. Such was the slope up which he
was to ride; and the Federals felt confident that in being on foot
they had a great advantage. As he neared the top of the first
bench, he was stopped by falling timber. The pause, however,
was not unwelcome to the mare, whose every power bad been
strained to the utmost; and Col. Menefee was by no means
averse to letting her get her breath.
Col. Menefee's Ride for Life. . 403
But, to the Federals, the reason for the halt was not plain ;
they supposed that it indicated a surrender. They pressed on
then, with exultant cries and angry oaths, whenever breath
could be spared. The fugitive was hemmed in at last ; he could
not escape; he desired to surrender; there was no use of shoot-
ing at him ; it would be a waste of powder, for they were certain
to take him alive. But the fugitive himself thought differently
of these things; the
breath less m are had
pricked up her ears as she
heard the noises of pur-
suit; and now, after the
momentary rest, a touch
of her rider’s heel on her
side was enough to urge
her onward up the rough
slope. An instant after
she had leaped the bar-
rier, and horse and rider
were out of sight of the
Federals, sheltered by
friendly rocks and bluffs.
But he could not make
his way much farther up-
ward ; and under this
friendly cover he dis-
mounted and prepared
to defend himself as long
as he could, and when the
odds became too over-
whelming, to die as be-
came a soldier. But, as
he drew his revolvers to
examine them, and pre-
~'s pare himself, he caught
sight of one of his men approaching him in the distance. The
poor fellow had become exhausted in his flight from the pursu-
ing enemy and was almost fainting with fatigue. To attract the
enemy’s attention to this spot, was to sacrifice this faithful soldier
for nothing, and although this was well calculated for defence, he
decided to make another stand ; to fasten the attention of the
->
*
Menefee's Ride.



26
404 3. Col. Menefee's Ride for Life.
enemy on himself alone, and thus enable the man to escape.
“Climb to the top of the bluff,” he motioned to the soldier,
for it was not safe to speak. The soldier obeyed hastily, and
was soon out of sight in the brush that clothed the steep ascent.
Meanwhile Col. Menefee had again sprung to the saddle. He
watched the soldier disappear. It was necessary that the ene-
my should know the direction that the horseman had taken, if
the man on foot was to escape. Rising in his stirrups, the gal-
lant partisan uttered the war whoop of the Osage Indians. The
blood-curdling sound echoed back and forth along the bluffs as,
setting spurs to his horse, he dashed down a rugged ledge of
rocks. After him came the pursuers at full speed; but what is
the speed of a man when opposed to that of a race-horse 2 Down,
down, the rough, rocky descent, almost as steep as an ordinary
flight of stairs; now sliding, now leaping, now scrambling, now
on the full run, a hundred yards, a quarter of a mile, a half mile,
to the very bottom, and he is safe. Now the Federals have giv-
en up the chase, cursing the Government horses that could not
do what this Rebel’s has done. A few parting shots are fired
after him, but not one reaches its mark; and that night Mene-
fee is with his men at the rendezvous appointed in the morning.
£HAPTER I.
DAHLGREN'S RAID.
The Object—Difference of Opinion—Organization of the Force—Dahlgren's
Record—Departure—A Heavy Storm—Failure to Co-operate—Skirmish near
Richmond—The Retreat—Crossing the Stream—Movements of the Confeder-
ates—The Ambush in the Woods—Death of Col. Dahlgren–Action of the
Confederate Government.
N the month of February, 1864, there was planned a raid
which, if it had been successfully carried out, would have
been one of the most memorable of the war. As it is—but we
anticipate the course of the story.
There is much dispute about one important point; namely,
the object for which the expedition was sent out; and the name
of the man who stands out most clearly in the story has been
lauded to the skies and trampled in the dust. Fully aware of
difficulties which await him in the effort to tell the story fairly,
the writer will endeavor to avoid the fond praises of the mother
of the dead soldier, as well as the execrations of the most violent
of his enemies that ever handled a pen ; conscious all the time
that those who would wish to please both sides, frequently end
by failing to please either.
It was with Gen. Kilpatrick that the idea of liberating the
prisoners of war confined in Libby amd Belleisle originated.
The project met with the approval of President Lincoln and his
Secretary of War, and the dashing cavalry leader was desired
to organize the expedition. Once it became known that such
a raid was contemplated, that there was a prospect of Federal
troops penetrating to the very inner sanctuary of the Confed-
eracy, the more venturesome spirits became wild with excite-
ment. “On to Richmond l’ had been their desire for three
405
406 - Dahlgren's Raid.
years, and here, perhaps, was the opportunity to enter the capi-
tal of the Secessionists.
Among those who volunteered for the expedition was Col.
Ulric Dahlgren, a son of the renowned admiral, and a young
man of great promise as a soldier. He was barely twenty-one,
and had already made himself an honorable record. But, though
he was anxious to go, every one endeavored to dissuade him;
for he had been wounded in the previous July, and had lost his
leg in consequence; the amputated limb was not yet fully heal-
ed, nor did the general state of his health make it advisable for
him to undertake a journey
which promised so much
hard riding and hard fight-
ing. But his persistency
defeated all the efforts of his
friends, and, his services
being accepted, he was giv-
en an important post.
The entire command was
divided into three parts,
one of which was led by
Gen. Kilpatrick in person,
while the second was as-
signed to Gen. Custer, and
the third, consisting of
about seven hundred men,
to Col. Dahlgren. The second of these was merely intended to
create a diversion by a feint upon Charlottesville; while the
first and third were to remain united until they reached Beav-
er Dam, where they were to separate and attack Richmond,
Kilpatrick from the north, and Dahlgren from the south.
Such was the plan of the raid, briefly sketched out. The ob-
ect of it is stated by the Federal authorities to have been
nothing more than the liberation of the prisoners of war in the
hands of the Confederates, and the destruction of government
stores; while many Southern writers maintain that the “Dahl-
gren papers” are authentic; if this be true, the raiders intend-
ed to burn the city and put the more prominent Confederate
officials to the sword. That is not a matter to be discussed here,
however, and the reader is invited to take that view which best
accords with his general sentiments in regard to the War,
Gen. H. J. Kilpatrick.

Dahlgren's Raid. 407
The whole force set out just at night-fall of Feb. 28th, 1864,
Dahlgren's command being the advance-guard. Crossing the
Rapidan at Ely’s Ford, they found, as they had expected, a
strong picket posted on the farther bank; but succeeded in cap-
turing them without giving the alarm to a considerable body of
the enemy that lay at no great distance. The nature of the ex-
pedition required that its end should be accomplished as speed-
ily as possible, or the comparatively small body of raiders might
find that they had drawn down a hornet’s nest on their own de-
voted heads. There §º à #º sºzº
were none of the usual = sºº’ - sº, *-ºs -
long halts, then, for
food or rest. A hasty
meal by the road-side,
a short nap in the sad-
dle—these were all that
the troopers were to
expect.
They rode onward,
then, all night, and far
into the next day, be-
fore any halt was or-
dered ; and that was to
accomplish a certain
part of the task assign-
ed rather than to re- - - -º-, -, --> ----
fresh the “inner man * Crossing the Rapidan.
with food or rest. It was between two and three o’clock on
the afternoon of Feb. 29th, that they struck the Virginia
Central Railroad, about a mile from Frederic's Hall Station.
Riding along the road to the station, they captured a small par-
ty of Confederate officers that they found there; and, continu-
ing along the same route for five miles farther, tore up a half
mile of the rails and cut the telegraph wire in several places.
Having thus destroyed communication among the different
portions of the enemy’s force, the command divided, as had been
arranged beforehand; Gen. Custer's force having left the main
body soon after setting out. Col. Dahlgren, in accordance with
the plan of the expedition, turned to the south, and crossed the
South Anna about an hour before dark. As night came on, the
sky, which had not been clear during the day, assumed a more
** *s

408 Dahlgren's Raid.
threatening appearance, and after a few scattering drops that
gave warning of what was to come, the rain, about ten o’clock,
began to fall in torrents. The men had been in the saddle near-
ly thirty hours; a thorough drenching was soon added to
their other discomforts; and the darkness rendered it almost im-
possible for them to keep the road. Under such circumstances,
it was deemed necessary to halt, and about midnight they drew
rein before a small grocery store that stood by the road, for sup-
per and rest.
Before daylight of March 1st, however, they were stirring;
and it was about half-past six when they mounted and rode on-
ward. It was still raining when they started, and the roads
were in a terrible condition; but in about half an hour the rain
ceased ; and although the sky was still cloudy, a brisk breeze
promised to dry the mud somewhat. It was one o’clock in the
afternoon when they struck the plank road leading to Richmond;
and approaching the capital by this route, fell in, two hours
later, with the Confederate pickets. But the alarm of the ap-
proach of a Federal force had reached the Southern headquar-
ters, and the pickets had been strengthened. It was only after
sharp firing, continued for sometime, that these were driven in.
But the plank road was a somewhat roundabout way of reach-
ing the city, and having driven in the pickets, they approached
the objective point more directly. A little before dark, a halt
was called, eight miles from Richmond ; and the wearied troop-
ers were permitted time to make such a meal as circumstances
would allow.
Here it was expected that they would be joined by the main
command, or at least receive some orders as to the next step.
But this hope was doomed to disappointment. It mattered lit-
tle, at that time, that Custer had been driven back from Char-
lottesville by a considerable force of Stuart's cavalry, stationed
there; the thing of main importance, at this moment, was the
position of Kilpatrick. But there was no visible trace of that
officer; as was afterwards ascertained by Dahlgren's men, he
had appeared near Richmond that morning and created consid-
erable alarm and confusion; but had fallen back, taking up a
line of march down the peninsula.
Dahlgren, considering himself in honor bound to ascertain the
whereabouts of the main force, or at least to learn its fate, ad-
vanced a little farther. But his onward march was opposed by
Lahlgren's Raid. 409
a body of Confederate militia, hastily collected to assist in de-
fending the capital. The cavalry dashed on in a wild charge,
and the infantry retreated to the outer line of fortifications.
Here, however, they rallied, and poured such a heavy fire into
the columns of the Federals that the latter fell back. How great
a force barred their way, the raiders could not tell. The rain
had re-commenced, and was falling in torrents; the night was
pitch dark; the only sense that could guide the men on either
side as to the position
of the enemy was the
sense of hearing. No
news of Kilpatrick had
reached this part of the
force; and thus beset by
uncertainty, the retreat
was begun.
In an ordinary retreat,
the rear is the post of
danger, and therefore of
honor; but in a case
such as this, where a
small body was retreat-
ing through the ene-
my’s country, an attack
might be looked for in
the front or on the flank,
as well as in the rear; it
was, indeed more proba-
ble that a force would
meet them than pursue
them, for their rate of speed was such that, once given a
slight start, they were not likely to be overtaken. Col. Dahl-
gren, then, took command of the advance-guard, numbering
about one hundred men; while the main body of his com-
mand followed at the usual distance.
As we have said, the night was a very dark one ; there was no
slight danger, then, that the main body would fail to follow the
advance exactly; and to prevent such a misfortune, pickets on
white horses were posted along the road to act as guides. But
in spite of this precaution, the command became divided ; the
main body falling so far behind the advance as to be cut off by
Col. Ulric Dahlgren.

410 Dahlgren's Raid.
the enemy and compelled to take another route. The advance
held on their way, riding steadily onward, though the rain fell
in torrents, and their cloaks were stiff with sleet. They reached
the Pamunkey about daybreak, and proceeding along the south
bank, came to the Mattapony about noon. The ferry boat at
this point had been removed by the enemy, and the stream, swol-
len with the recent rains, and fretting and dashing along its
channels, must be crossed by aid of an old flat-boat, which the
Confederates had thought unworthy of their attention. Of
course, when such was the only means of transportation, the
horses must swim ; and they were soon struggling in the muddy,
icy water.
The boat was so small and so hard to manage, the current so
swift and strong, that much time was occupied in crossing. In
the meantime, a party of Confederate Rangers, which had set out
in pursuit of the enemy, rather to harrass the rear than to make
any formal attack, had come up; and not venturing to show
themselves, since they numbered only about twenty, stole into
the bushes which overhung the banks of the stream. Every
possible precaution had been taken by the Federals to prevent
a sudden attack; and the dropping fire of the concealed men was
answered readily by the videttes posted on the bank; while,
occasionally, Col. Dahlgren, who had dismounted and now stood
resting on his crutches, to watch the passage of his men across
the river, turned and fired his revolver in the direction of the
shots. At last, the rear-guard dashed down the bank and em-
barked, the commander followed his men on board the flat-boat,
and all had safely crossed the Pamunkey.
It was now two o'clock in the afternoon. The command took
what was known as the “river road,” and continued the march
until about ten o’clock. In the meantime, the Confederates hav-
ing been reinforced by various small forces, until the whole com-
mand numbered between seventy and eighty, had determined
to ambush the Federals. Scouts kept the pursuers informed as
to the numbers and movements of the invading force; and the
point of concealment was fixed about a mile and a half below
Stevensville.
In the Confederate councils, there was a difference of opinion
as to when Dahlgren would advance. They had already learned
of the halt that had been called, and knowing that the men had
been almost constantly in the saddle for two days and nights,
Dahlgren's Raid. 411
many supposed that they had bivouacked for the night; others,
that they would move on when the moon rose, between two and
three o’clock in the morning; while others still advanced the
opinion that he would halt only long enough to feed the horses.
The force was composed of several independent commands, and
each officer proceeded to act on his own opinion. Many of the
men were dispersed for a little rest, and ordered to be at the
rendezvous in the woods by moonrise.
The halt had been for only an hour; and at eleven o’clock the
Union troops moved onward through the woods, Col. Dahlgren
at the head of the column. Though it was not raining, the night
was dark; and even the naked branches and trunks of the trees
around them increased the obscurity. It was with some diffi-
culty, then, that, about midnight, the young officer discerned a
small force of men in the road before him. He demanded their
surrender; the answer was a volley from their carbines; and at
the same moment the Confederates concealed in the woods fired.
The Federals replied in the same manner, encouraged by the
voice of their leader; but as he reeled and fell from his saddle,
their courage and energy completely forsook them. The utmost
confusion prevailed among them ; some put spurs to their wearied
horses and escaped by flight; others surrendered at discretion.
There was not one to “fight as their leader fought, fall as their
leader fell;” not one to avenge his death.
Two or three privates had been wounded, but only the com-
mander had been killed. With him, however, died the expedi-
tion, which had thus proved such a disastrous failure. Even ac-
cording to the account of a notoriously partial Southern writer,
his is the central figure of the three officers in command; he, al-
though the youngest and the lowest in rank, was the only one
who in any degree approached the accomplishment of his object;
and his failure was perhaps due to the sudden and unexpected re-
treat of Kilpatrick, without giving any kind of warning to the
officer who was to act in co-operation with him.
The affair aroused the most violent discussion at the time, the
subject of dispute being the object of the expedition. In the
Richmond papers, there were published, a day or so after the
death of the officer in command of the expedition, certain papers
said to have been taken from the dead body of the Federal ; one
of these was an address to the officers and men composing the
expedition, and mentioned the burning of the city and the kill-
412 Dahlgren's Raid.
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1)ahlgren's Raid. 413
ing of the Confederate President and his chief advisers as one of
the ends to be attained. On the other hand, Lieut. Bartley, act-
ing adjutant to Col. Dahlgren, and the only staff officer accom-
panying the command, avers positively that the only orders is-
sued were in relation to the liberation of prisoners and the de-
struction of the Confederate States Government buildings and
stores; with strict injunctions not to take life except in fair
fight, and to treat prisoners with as much respect as was consis-
tent with their safety. It is claimed that the papers were a for-
gery.
The approach of a Federal force to within such a short dis-
tance of Richmond excited considerable alarm in the capital,
and the raiders were denounced as murderous and incendiary fel-
ons. Many urged the severest kind of retaliation, but no deci-
sive steps were taken by the Government. The only actresulting
from this attempt was the placing of several tons of powder
under Libby Prison, a fact which was published far and wide, in
order to show how worse than fruitless would be any other ef-
fort to liberate the prisoners there confined.
The body of Dahlgren was taken in charge by the Confederate
Government, and secretly buried in an unmarked grave. But
the spot was noted by some secret sympathizers with the Union
cause, and after the War was over, the remains were exhumed
and sent to Washington; there the body was delivered to his
family, and replaced in a grave marked with his name.
£HAFTER LI.
ADVENTURE OF FORA GERS.
Relaxing Discipline—Three Foragers—A Promising Barn—Captured — A Coun-
cil of War — Ten Minutes to Pray In — They Prefer to Pray Somewhere
Else — A Race and an Interested Spectator—Who Soon has a Race of His
Own—Escape—Revenge.
ARLY in April, 1864, several regiments of the United States
Army were temporarily encamped at Natchitoches, La.
They formed a portion of the troops used by Gen. Banks for his
unfortunate Red River expedition, disowned, after its disastrous
failure, by the authorities at Washington. But it is not our pur-
pose to give a history of this intended blow at the Southwest, or
even to narrate one of the more important events. Let us con-
cern ourselves only with the fortunes of a trio of foragers.
One of the regiments there encamped, the Forty-eighth Ohio
Infantry, had been promised the name of “Veteran Volunteers”
and a thirty day’s furlough for all the men, if they would re-en-
list in a body for three years longer; but the empty honor of
the name was the only reward really given, after their accept-
ance, and they waited in vain for the much desired furlough. As
the months went on, and they found that the promise was not
likely to be fulfilled, it became exceedingly difficult to control
them; and the officers wisely allowed the men many privileges
not exactly consistent with the strictest discipline.
Of all the privileges which a soldier covets, there is not one
that is dearer to his heart, when he is encamped in the enemy's
country, than foraging. Often, distance from the Government
supplies and the vicinity of the enemy prevent the army from ob-
taining the rations due to them ; so that it becomes a matter of
necessity that the men should obtain supplies in any way possible.
414
Adventure of Foragers. 415
However it may have been, certain it is that while this command
was encamped at Natchitoches, three privates, one from the
Twenty-fourth Iowa, and two, Pavy and McCune, of the Ohio
regiment mentioned, went out on such an expedition.
Affairs were progressing satisfactorily as far as they had gone,
but they had not obtained a sufficient supply of substantials and
delicacies to justify them, as they thought, in returning to camp.
Just at this juncture, they spied a barn, the surroundings of
which gave promise of plenty. Toward this they accordingly
bent their steps, and were soon lost to view in the masses of hay
with which the building, notwithstanding the season, was plen-
tifully stocked. As they hunted through the heaps, yet fragrant
from the mowing, they dreamed sweet dreams of meals where the
rusty and strong bacon provided by the Government should be
rendered temptingly palatable by fresh eggs.
But whether this was not their favorite resting-place, or the
hens were possessed of more than the usual share of acuteness
in concealing their treasures, certainly the eggs were not as
abundant nor as easily found as they expected. At last, how-
ever, they emerged from the inner recesses of the building to
compare notes and consolidate their findings. Just as they were
about to transfer the spoil from their caps to a basket which
they found near by, they were confronted by two Confederate
soldiers, fully armed.
“Surrender, you d d thieving Yankees, or
A glance at the revolver which the speaker held in his hand
was more expressive than words could have been. As the for-
agers had laid aside their guns when they first entered the barn,
they were entirely unarmed ; and they, of course, could do
nothing but comply with the demand. The Confederates had
already possessed themselves of the three muskets, so that there
was no occasion to disarm the prisoners, but in default of such a
necessity, they were compelled to unload their spoils. As the pris-
oners numbered more than the captors, the former were secured
|by having their arms tied behind them, a single piece of rope
serving for all. Thus guarded, they were ordered to march
along an indicated road. At last they reached what the Con-
federates considered a safe distance from the Federal lines,
which were not far from the barn; and the prisoners were seat-
ed on a log that lay near the roadside, while the captors with-
drew a couple of paces to consult; still keeping, of course, a
3 y
416 Adventure of Foragers.
sharp lookout upon the three blue-coats, lest they escape.
Though the conversation was conducted in as low a tone as
possible, they were obliged, for safety’s sake, to remain so near
the prisoners that much of it was audible to the three men seat-
ed on a log. Murmurs from such a conversation as this reached
their ears: ‘.
“Don’t you think we could 7” \
“Don’t believe it would be safe. You see, there being three
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The Foragers Surprised.
of them to two of us makes it risky.”
“But they are unarmed.” -
“That's true; but we have to tie them together, and we can't
tell when they’ll make a concerted movement to escape. They’re
going to try it, of course.”
“Our lines are a good ways off. If it wasn’t so far, now—”
The speaker paused, and glanced anxiously at the prisoners.
“After all,” he continued, “I believe you’re right about it.
Will you tell them, or shall I ?”
“I will, if you don’t want to.”






































































Adventure of Foragers. 417
And advancing a step towards the log, he addressed the men
sitting upon it, who were busily engaged in guessing, from
the disconnected fragments that they had heard, the subject and
the result of the consultation.
“We have decided not to take you to camp, for our lines are a
good ways off. There’s only one way to dispose of you. You
can have ten minutes to say your prayers, after we get a little
farther into the woods.”
“Better tie them a little more securely, I reckon, suggested
the other.
But when men are once condemned to death, they fear nothing,
for nothing can be worse than the fate which certainly awaits them.
As the Confederates, recognizing this, proceeded to bind the
prisoners yet more securely before leading them to the spot
where they were destined to die, the Iowan, with the strength
born of desperation, started to run, drawing his two comrades,
of course, with him. But if he had been quick in his movements,
the captors proved equally so. One of them, raising his revol-
ver, sent a ball crashing through the skull of the liberty-loving
prisoner. He fell like a log, dragging down his companions on
either side, nearly to the ground; for he fell so suddenly that
they had no time to resist. But even as he fell, Pavy, inspired
by his example and unwarned by his fate, summoned all his
strength for one last effort.
With a sudden pull, to which despair gave force, he burst his
bonds, and ran at his utmost speed towards the Federal lines,
closely pursued by one of the Confederates. As McCune made a
similar movement, the other Southerner, quicker to comprehend
the case than his companion, struck the prisoner a blow on the
head with the butt end of his musket, that, for a moment, knock-
ed him senseless; then turned to watch the progress of the
chase.
But experience had taught McCune that he had to deal with a
foe that was quick to see and to act; that the only hope of es-
cape lay in outwitting him. When, therefore, he returned to
consciousness, as he did in a few minutes, he gave no sign that he
was in possession of his senses. The Confederate still stood
leaning on his musket, watching his companion and Pavy run;
for they were yet far from being out of sight. McCune's first
effort was to loosen the ropes, which not only prevented the free
use of his arms, but encumbered him with the weight of the
418 Adventure of Foragers.
Iowan’s dead body. Any sudden movement on his part would
undoubtedly recall the Confederate's attention from the race to
his charge, and then a continuance of his efforts would result in
death. Carefully, slowly, silently he worked at the knots, his
progress being but slight in what seemed an age, because his
hands were behind him. But it is really only a few minutes be-
fore he is free, and springing to his feet, he rushes past the as-
tonished Confederate, after the others.
Meanwhile Pavy had fled almost on wings of the wind, follow-
ed by the Confederate, who was almost equally fleet of foot.
But the Federal had this advantage, that any chance and unex-
pected encounter would in all likelihood be with a friend, and "
would mean safety; while the pursuer had to exercise every
care to avoid falling into the hands of those who would befriend
the fugitive. But at last the neighborhood became too danger-
ous for him ; they were too near the Federal lines for the Con-
federate’s liking; and he gave up the chase. - g
McCune followed the path which these two had taken, for some
little time; closely pursued, in his turn, by the other guard,
whose enjoyment of the race had been so rudely ended by the un-
expected escape of his prisoner. But reflecting that the return
of Pavy’s pursuer, with or without having recaptured the fugi-
tive, would probably be along the same path by which he had
gone, he turned aside. Although his prime object was not to
elude his own pursuer, he not only avoided the return of the
first, but completely baffled the second by the numerous turns
which he made. Gradually the sound of footsteps grew fainter
and fainter; then as the Confederate saw that he was likely to
lose his prey if it took him so long to track it, a bullet whistled
by McCune's ears. Another and another came, until the Reb's
revolver was emptied. To stop to reload, of course, would only
increase the disadvantage at which he already stood, and the
gray-coat sullenly gave up the chase and retraced his steps.
, Trembling in every limb from the severe exertion required by
the long run, and panting for breath, the two fugitives arrived
in camp from different points at nearly the same time; each be-
ing ignorant of the fate of the other. Their story was listened
to with eager ears and hearts desirous to avenge their fallen
comrade. The officers, alarmed lest the presence of two Confed-
erates so near the lines might indicate the approach of an army,
resolved to guard against a surprise. A considerable force of
Adventure of Foragers. 419
cavalry was detailed for the purpose of reconnoissance as well as
revenge; and divided into small squads, each was assigned to
scour a certain portion of the country around the Federal camp.
The column of flame and smoke rising into the sky soon ap-
prised those who were forced to remain, inactive, in the camp,
that the barn where the capture had taken place had been burned ;
while a similar one near it, a few moments afterwards, showed
that the cavalry had found the owner of the house near by to
have aided the Confederates, and had destroyed his residence.
The body of the soldier who had been killed was duly convey-
ed to camp, and buried with the usual solemnities. The two
Southerners were captured, and, upon trial, were condemned to
death; but as they were proved to be regularly enlisted soldiers
in the Confederate States Army, at home on a furlough, and as
retaliation, in case of their execution, was threatened, the sen-
tence was set aside, and they were held as prisoners of war.
Pavy and McCune did not long enjoy the freedom gained by
their swiftness of pace, for on the eighth of the same month a
considerable part of the division to which they belonged was cap-
tured by the enemy, and sent to a military prison in Texas for
the remainder of the war. As far as we can learn, Privates Pavy
and McCune were two members of the 48th Ohio Veteran Vol-
unteer Infantry, who shared this fate,
27
ſhares III.
ESCAPE FROM A FEDERAL STEAMER.
Running Fight—Capture of the Officer—From One Prison to Another — Re-
assuring Sounds — The Queen City Disabled — The Fight Continued – A
Discussion between Engineers — The Guard Hoodwinked — A Lengthy
Swim—Eluding the Gunboats—Reaches the Confederate Pickets. -
N the winter of 1863-4, there was a Confederate raid toward
T the Arkansas river, made by a portion of Gen. J. O. Shelby's
brigade. A party of six detailed for some special duty, which is
as of little importance now as the object of the main expedition,
was attacked by a vastly superior force of Federals—how large
we will not say, for while we believe the story to be, in the main,
true, the odds seem incredibly great. Certainly they were at-
tacked, and unable to stand their ground, retreated, fighting hard
as they went. Capt. Arthur McCoy, well-known among his com-
rades as a daring and efficient scout, was the officer in command.
They were in a fair way of making good their escape to the main
force, when the captain’s horse was shot under him. Thus dis-
abled, he had no resource but to surrender; and this is the one
point of importance in the fight, so far as our story is concerned,
for we have to tell of his efforts to escape from the hands of the
Federals.
Transferred from prison to prison, he was on his way to the
penitentiary at Alton, Illinois, a building long used by the Fed-
eral authorities as a military prison. But on the way, the boat
was stopped ; it was not safe to proceed; the heavy guns were
heard distinctly, and everything gave token that a fight was tak-
ing place; but of course the prisoner had no means of learning
the progress or the probable result. But as the time went on,
he could guess what was its course. The Queen City, a Federal
420
Escape from a Federal Steamer. 421
gunboat, he knew lay at anchor near the town; and this was evi-
dently an attack upon her. After the thunder of the cannon and the
rattle of the musketry, came the shrill whistle by which the sur-
render of the vessel was announced. Then, after a long pause,
came a terrific explosion, which told all for forty miles around,
that the Queen City had been blown up by her captors.
But this was not all. There were other gunboats not out of
hearing; and they bore down upon the victorious Confederates;
close and sharp was the battle ; but at last, the Missourians, after
two days’ hard fighting, were driven from the field. McCoy
could no longer restrain his desire to rejoin his comrades; it
was now or never, for the victory of the Federals would enable
the boat on which he was confined to proceed on her journey
down the White to the Mississippi. Once on the Father of Wa-
ters, there was but little chance of escape or rescue, and he
would inevitably be landed at Alton. Now there was good
company to be found in that, as in many other penitentiaries at
that date, but he had no mind to join the circle if he could help
himself. He had some friends on the boat; among others, one
of the engineers. This man had provided him with a suit of
such clothes as were worn by the firemen or assistant engineers
at their work—worn and begrimed with coal dust in quite a real-
istic manner. The two stood upon the hurricane-deck discussing
a matter nearly related to the daily occupation of both :
<! Did get that valve to work all right 7” inquired the en-
gineer, mentioning his colleague's name.
“No, I think not,” replied the pretended assistant.
“No, and he won’t, either; we’ll have to send to Little Rock
about that—see if we don’t.”
& C is quite certain he can fix it himself, so he says. He pegs
away at it as if he meant to do it.”
“Well, he can’t. Just come with me, and I’ll show you why.”
There was no part of the boat's machinery injured, of course;
nor would Capt. McCoy have felt an absorbing interest in it if
the steamer had been completely crippled ; but there was a
guard pacing to and fro upon the hurricane deck, and it was nec-
essary to elude his vigilance. The two men standing near him
were so evidently employes in the engine room, discussing some
trifling injury to the motive power of the boat, that he paid no
attention whatever to them, and allowed them to go below with-
out question.
422 Escape from a Federal Steamer.
Damaged valves lost their interest when the Confederate
reached the lower deck; and in accordance with the plans al-
ready formed, he slipped into the wheel-house, thence into the
water, so noiselessly that the alarm was not given to any one
of the guards. He dared not swim, for fear of attracting atten-
tion; and for the same reason his head must not be too conspic-
uous an object above the surface of the river. He could, then,
only float quietly along, his head just above the water so far as
to enable him to breathe. At Clarendon, just below Duvall's
Bluff, the Federals were encamped; so much he knew ; for, of
course, they did not conceal their victories from their prisoners;
and the four gunboats which had come, too late, to the help of
the Queen City, lay just before the ruined town.
These were safely passed, the dark head rising above the
waters being noticed no more than if it had been a piece of drift-
wood. Indeed, his plan was favored by the condition of the
stream. It was late in the spring, and the tributaries of the
White, greatly swollen, had brought so vast a quantity of water
to the main river that it stretched far beyond its usual bed;
miles away, in that flat country, the water reached, like a great
inland sea; while down its current floated many different kinds
of objects, the river's plunder from overflowed field and forest
and cabin. If any guard or idler, then, saw this one particular
thing in which we are interested, he regarded it merely as a
piece of driftwood, or something of the kind, and gave it no fur-
ther thought.
At last, when exhausted and almost out of sight of these gun-
boats, and believing he had passed all, he ventured to rest. But
as he lifted his head, he saw, some two or three hundred yards
below, still another of the black monsters. He had gained the
shore, which here lay like an island in the wide expanse of tur-
bid water, as the interior was somewhat lower than this point,
and not much above the usual level of the river. On every side
stretched the broad waters, and even as he stood on this one ex-
posed point of ground, the current almost touched his feet.
Chilled to the very marrow by his long bath in the icy water,
he yet did not desire to have the Federals make it hot for him;
but he could not see his way clear. The river narrowed just
about where the gunboat lay, the ground there swelling, as
above, to bluffs of a considerable height, and he would have to
pass dangerously near. Even at the opposite side of the stream
Escape from a Federal Steamer. 423
he could hardly hope to pass the menacing sentinel unnoticed.
The outlook was a dark one; to go back was to run into the
arms of the enemy from whom he had escaped ; to go forward
was equally to expose himself to recapture ; to take to the
woods, submerged as they were, was to die of privation before
he could reach his friends; remain where he was, he could not
long, for messenger boats would be plying back and forth from
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Floating by the Gunboats.
this gunboat below to those above. Rapidly he thought over
the chances of each course; and, although all were desperate, he
determined to try the second. We have already seen that the
stream was covered with various things swept away by the cur-
rent; it would be no marvel, then, he argued, if among other ar-
ticles there should be some brush. Gathering a quantity, then, he
launched the rude raft, that seemed but a natural tangling of
the reeds with grasses and leaves; and sheltered by it, floated
in safety past the dreadful iron monster. Eight miles more
down the stream, and at last he felt it would be safe to emerge.
Dripping and weary and hungry, he traveled onward, guided
by instinct, it seemed; until the Confederate pickets were in
view. He was, of course, challenged by them ; the officer of
the guard would not believe that this was the gallant, the dash-



424 Escape from a Federal Steamer.
ing, the well-known Captain Arthur McCoy; but he was taken
to camp, and there he succeeded in convincing his comrades that
he was no other.
Three days later, he organized and led an expedition to de-
stroy a steamer loaded with coal for these very gunboats; and
burned the boat with all her cargo.
£HAPTER LIII.
BURNING THE ENEMY'S STORES.
The Situation — Safety of the Stores — A Daring Scout — Too Great a Tempta-
tion—Surprising the Guard—The Blaze Gives the Alarm—Pursuit— Escape.
ATE in the summer of 1864, when the folds of the Federal
L army were drawing closer and closer about the doomed
city of Atlanta, there was performed, among many daring feats,
one which, as an instance of a courageous exploit performed by
a mere handful of men, is not excelled in the annals of warfare.
Johnston had been superseded in command by Hood, less cau-
tious and able, more headstrong and daring; less of a general,
more of a mere fighter. But all his daring availed him little,
for slowly and surely Sherman had beaten his army back, and
the result was now only a question of time.
In the little village of Willa Rica, some twenty-seven miles
southwest of Atlanta, the Confederates had established their
principal depot of supplies. This had been chosen as a particu-
larly safe point, as long as the army remained in anything like
its present position ; for the main force of Confederates lay be-
tween it and the Federal army, and camps had been established,
for warious purposes, all around the town, many of them being
only a mile from the magazine. Under such cireumstances, it
was hardly necessary to set a guard over the stores; as well
post special sentinels to guard the arms of the men in camp,
when the usual precautions as to pickets had been taken. Ev-
ery available man was needed in the trenches, and accordingly
there was no guard set at Villa Rica; only five soldiers were
posted in the town, in order to deliver the stores to the army
wagons that were sent for them. A lieutenant colonel was in com-
mand, his subordinates being a captain and three sergeants.
* 425
426 Burning the Enemy's Stores.
But the security of the Confederates in regard to their depot
of supplies, was ill-founded. A young Federal officer, Ira B.
Tuttle (whether commissioned or non-commissioned, does not
appear from the accounts that have reached us) had made fre-
quent scouts in the vicinity of the place, and had carefully stud-
ied the lay of the land as well as the disposition of forces. Could
he but penetrate to Willa Rica, he felt sure that the few men
there would be too much surprised to offer any effective resist-
ance, and the stores might be given to the flames. But even to
the daring young scout the enterprise seemed hopeless, and he
hesitated to ask special permission to undertake the task.
Such was his mood when he was sent out on a scout with four
men. His errand took him very near the camps that surround-
ed the town ; and he could not help but think that his force was
exactly equal to that stationed in the village. Yet it seemed
madness to attempt it. True, they had come inside the enemy's
lines without danger so far, but they must pass between two
camps, and get into the very midst of a group of several others.
The spectacle of a burning magazine, however, haunted his
imagination. At last he could resist the temptation no longer.
“Men, the enemy has all his stores at Willa Rica, without any
guard; suppose we go and destroy them 7”
There was not a voice that did not eagerly assent to the pro-
position; and Tuttle continued : - -
“There’s a good deal of danger in it, of course ; for we will
have to get past the inner lines of the enemy, and we may find
it hard work to get off.”
He could not bring himself to deceive them as to the danger
to be incurred, even if it had been possible, and he would not
over persuade them, however desirous of going he might be
himself. But at the first mention of the plan they were eager
for it, and would not be dissuaded.
Putting spurs to their horses, then, they rode onward directly
towards the town, the darkness effectually screening them from
all observation. They passed within hailing distance of the
pickets of one camp, but they had then slackened their pace,
and the soft, dry grass had deadened their horses’ footsteps.
This danger safely passed, they dashed onwards towards the
town again; for they had no time to lose; they must be beyond
the enemy's lines and inside their own, if possible, before day-
break. It was a hot dry night; there was something of a breeze,
Burning the Enemy's Stores. 427
but it seemed as if it came from an oven, so heated was it. Di-
rectly towards the largest storehouse rode the Federals; fifty
thousand bushels of corn were in it, besides a considerable
amount of bacon—excellent materials for a bonfire, certainly.
The Confederates in charge of the stores were so perfectly con-
fident of their safety from all attack that they had not even their
side-arms. When the Federals came dashing toward the build-
ing, therefore, they were taken wholly by surprise, and the sum-
Burning the Storehouses.
mons to surrender came before they were fairly awake to the
fact that the enemy was approaching. Under the circumstan-
ces, unarmed, and confronted by an equal force of men armed to
the teeth, they could do nothing but comply with the demand.
Tuttle ordered them to mount, their horses being brought out
by his order by a negro attendant of the commanding officer.
Leaving them in charge of two of the men, he, with two others,
proceeded to execute the work which they had come to do. The
fires were speedily and skillfully kindled ; the night was hot,

428 -- Burning the Enemy's Stores.
the stores combustible, the buildings old and by no means fire-
proof. The result was inevitable.
Waiting a few moments, to make sure that the flames would
get a good headway, Tuttle gave the order to advance. The pris-
oners were to ride in front, the Federals in the rear, each man
pistol in hand, ready for the slightest movement on the part of
the Confederates that looked like an effort to escape. As they
left the town, Tuttle halted the column a moment to enable all
to see the magnificent spectacle which was the result of the
night's work. Upon the background of the dark blue sky arose
the column of flame; then others besides the first, as the fire in
the lesser buildings burst into a blaze. Only a moment, however,
could they stop; just long enough to see that they had succeed-
ed; they could not stay to watch the terrific grandeur of the
midnight fire, varying every moment in its intensity, yet ever
speaking of ruin and destruction.
The sight spread consternation in the surrounding camps of
Confederates; men were hastily told off for the rescue, to march
against they knew not what. They reached Villa Rica, to find
that the enemy had gone, leaving behind him a yet more uncon-
querable foe. There was but a scant supply of water in the
town, for it was towards the end of a very dry summer, and many
of the wells and cisterns had entirely failed. The Confederates
could do nothing but watch the flames consume the stores on
which they mainly depended for subsistence. Hold ! There was
one thing more that they could do—they could at least exact
vengeance for the fearful loss to which they had been subjected.
With feverish haste they set out in pursuit, scattering in several
different directions. Their forces they dared not divide into
small squads, for they had no suspicion that so small a body
would have dared to penetrate into the very heart of the Con-
federate Army. They missed entirely, then, the road by which
Tuttle and his men had made their way off, until the latter were
too far away to make pursuit of any avail. The Federals, in-
deed, having the fear of Andersonville before their eyes, had
ridden off even faster than they had advanced. With their
prisoners, they reached camp in safety before the flames had
fairly died away, and were welcomed by their comrades with
high encomiums for their successful exploit.
£HAPTER LIV.
GITMOR'S RAID INTO MARYLAND.
The Force Promised—The Actual Force—Rapid Advance—Ishmael Day—An
Infuriated Command—Day's Concealment—Obstructing the Railroad — The
Train Destroyed — Important Prisoners — A Second Train — Burning the
Bridge—Cutting the Telegraph—To Baltimore— A Warm Reception — The
Committee of Reception is Bashful—And Well Mounted — Worn Out — A
Sleepy Set – “We’re All a Nodding” — They Wake Up to an Unpleasant
Fact—Gen. Lee's Praise.
Fall the raids attempted by detached cavalry during the
war, one made by a small Confederate force into Mary-
land, in July, 1864, was perhaps the most daring. The state
was filled with Federal troops, no inconsiderable portion of
the National forces being encamped there; the city of Bal-
timore was strongly garrisoned ; yet a force of one hun-
dred and thirty-five men undertook to cross the state, get
around Baltimore, and return, even at the risk of having to fight
every step of their way back into Virginia. Gen. Early’s whole
force had advanced as far as the Middletown Valley, and had
halted at New Windsor, while Major Gilmor, with a squad of
but twenty men, was sent forward to cut the telegraph line at
Westminster. This was successfully accomplished, and several
similar tasks assigned to the same corps. In a few days, how-
ever, Gen. Early having already drawn back, Gen. Bradley
Johnson rejoined him ; leaving Major Gilmor the force of less
than one hundred and fifty men to accomplish a piece of work
for which he had been promised five hundred troopers and two
guns.
Nothing daunted, however, by the greater odds which they
were thus called to face, the diminished force set about perform-
429
430 Gilmor’s Raid into Maryland.
ing the task assigned. The first thing to be done was to burn
the bridge on the Philadelphia and Baltimore Railway, and thus
cut the line at the Gunpowder River. Knowing that the line
would, in all probability, be strongly and closely guarded, Major
Gilmor had represented to Gen. Johnson that the force assigned
could not be likely to succeed ; and had been told that no more
men could be spared, and that it would hardly be prudent to
trust artillery so far away from any support. The best that
could be done, then, was to march as rapidly as possible, so that
the Federals would not be able to keep themselves informed of
the raiders’ whereabouts.
Leaving Cockeysville about noon of one day about the mid-
dle of July, 1864, the command marched first in the direction of
Baltimore; so that any information from Cockeysville would
convey a false impression to the Federals. They soon turned
aside, however, and marched rapidly towards the point where
they expected to cut the railroad ; but they had been hard-
worked before this special raid was undertaken, and were now
nearly exhausted. So weary were they that they rode along
nodding in their saddles, though the late sunset had but just
faded out; and more than one fell far behind the column. Seeing
that it was impossible for them to proceed farther that night,
Major Gilmor gave the welcome order to halt and encamp for a
few hours. But it was not a long pause ; for at daylight the next
morning they were again on the march, and before six o'clock
had crossed the Bel Air and Harford roads, cutting the tele-
graph wires as they passed.
The advance-guard consisted of two men, one of whom was
the color-bearer of the command, Sergeant Fields; Major Gil-
mor judging that more would not be necessary, since there
seemed to be no troops in the immediate neighborhood. The
main command had paused a short time for the purpose of cut-
ting the wires, and these two were some hundreds of yards in
advance, on the Fork Meeting-house Road, Baltimore county. A
few miles from what is now known as Fork Post-office, they
found a United States flag, of immense size, raised upon the
mansion of Ishmael Day, and extending across the road. To sol-
diers of the Stars and Bars, the banner thus displayed was as a
red rag to a bull, and the master of the house was hastily called
out to the gate.
“Take that flag down,” ordered Sergeant Fields.
Gilmor’s Raid into Maryland. 431
“I will not,” was the determined reply of the obstinate man.
“There’s a battalion of cavalry a short distance behind us, and
they will not pass under it.”
“Then they can go back.”
“Take it down, or I will.”
“I will not take it down, and I will shoot the first man that
tries to do so,” was the firm answer.
“If you do not take it down, I will,” repeated the Confeder-
ate. But he
had hardly
time to stretch
out his hand
to wards the
flag, when Mr.
Day, seizing a
gun, discharg-
ed it. The aim
though hasty,
was true, and
the sergeant
received the
full charge of
bucks hot in
his face and
breast. He fell
to the ground ;
and his com-
panion, know-
ing that the
wound must
be mortal, gal-
loped hastily
back to the
main command
following.
The wires
had been cut,
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and the column was on the march when the shot was heard.
Anticipating an attack, they hurried forward; and thus met
the messenger earlier than they would otherwise have done.
The story was soon told, and driven by the desire to revenge





































432 Gilmor’s Raid into Maryland.
their comrade, they pressed on yet more rapidly. In the mean-
time, Day, knowing that he would find but little mercy at their
hands, had escaped to the woods, thence to an orchard at some
distance, where, hidden under a cider press, he lay for several
days; supplied with food by friends who came stealthily to him
under cover of darkness.
As the troopers rode up to the scene of the shooting, and saw
the hated flag waving sullenly over their comrade, their excite-
ment and anger knew no bounds. It may be urged that Fields’
objection to passing under the Stars and Stripes was but a fool-
ish, childish one, since it was not here raised in token of a mili-
tary force being present; but certainly the raising of the flag as
soon as he heard of their approach was, on the part of the citi-
zen, a mere piece of bravado. The Confederates took little time
to argue the case, from Day's standpoint, at least. The atten-
tion of the officer was taken up with the wounded man, who was
almost in a dying condition; while the men prosecuted a vigor-
ous search for the owner of the house. Failing to find him, they
turned their attention to his property; and when Major Gilmor,
having arranged for Fields’ conveyance to a neighboring tavern,
turned from the carriage in which the wounded man lay, he saw
the house almost enveloped in flames, while the barns and out-
buildings were being prepared for burning.,
Failing to find Day, they passed on to the more important
work. They were within a mile and a half of the bridge across
the Gunpowder River, when a scout brought word that a passen-
ger train on the Philadelphia, Wilmington and Baltimore Rail-
way was coming on from Baltimore. Desirous of stopping the
train in such a way as to prevent a serious accident, they placed
some logs across the track; and, a short distance below this, se-
cured some fence-rails. It was but a moment after these pro-
cautions were completed that the train came in sight. The two
kinds of obstructions had the desired effect; the fence-rails were
easily thrown aside by the locomotive, and gave warning of
the more solid barriers ahead. The engine was checked and re-
versed, and the train boarded by the Confederates.
The engineer had caught sight of the raiders almost as soon
as the train came upon the rails, and jumping from his engine
before it had fairly stopped, escaped into the woods. The other
employes of the road remained ; and the baggage-master, fur-
nished with a guard, was directed to unload the train, and de-
Gilmor's Raid into Maryland. 433
liver each passenger's property to its proper owner. All plund-
ering on the part of the soldiery was forbidden, under pain of
shooting.
Major Gilmor had intended to run the train up to Havre de
Grace, and burn all the bridges on the way, as well as the large
steamer which was there, but the escape of the engineer ren-
dered this plan impossible. He was busily engaged in superin-
tending the unloading of the train, when one of his subordi-
nates came up to him and said:
“Major, they say that Gen. Franklin is on board.”
“Where is ho 7’’
“He must be in that car, for it is the only one in which there
are any officers.”
The leader turned and strode towards the car indicated ; and
on entering it, found a group of Federal officers.
“Which of you is Gen. Franklin 7” he asked ; but received no
reply.
“I shall be obliged to examine each one's papers, until I find
the general,” he continued, after he had paused a moment for an
answer, and found that none was to be given. This he accord-
ingly proceeded to do, and in this way, ascertained the name
and rank of each of the silent party. It is but justice to say
that Gen. Franklin, thus identified, immediately acknowledged
himself to be the man; and Major Gilmor, in his book, “Four
Years in the Saddle,” owns that he was much prepossessed by
the blunt but gentlemanly bearing of the captured general.
These important prisoners were put under guard in the tele-
graph office near by.
There was another passenger train which left Baltimore forty
minutes after this one, but which, being an accommodation, did
not make as good time as the express. But knowing that it
would soon be due, Maj. Gilmor burned the first train, in order
to clear the way for the second. Having, in the meantime,
learned that two hundred infantry and the gunboat Juniata had
been sent to protect the bridge, he sent a flag-of-truce to de-
mand their surrender; the answer was, as might have been ex-
pected, a flat refusal. Capt. Bailey was accordingly ordered to
take his twenty sharp-shooters and open fire upon them from
the shore ? but the order was recalled as the second train was
heard thundering along.
It was an easy thing to capture a train, but their experience
434 Gilmor’s Raid into Maryland.
in both instances proved that it was more difficult to secure an
engineer, as this one escaped in the same manner as his prede-
cessor. But Major Gilmor himself took charge of the engine,
having sufficient knowledge of the machinery to run it a short
distance when there were no obstacles on the track; and ran it
up to the station, where the twelve passenger cars were emptied,
and each passenger given the baggage for which his checks call-
ed. Meantime, a good head of steam was kept upon the en-
gine, for the work was not yet done. The train having been un-
loaded, Capt. Bailey was ordered to move up the road with his
sharpshooters, in order, if possible, to drive the infantry out on
the bridge. -
The order was unnecessary, for most of the Federals had already
retreated to the gunboat, and the few who had not done so were
posted at the entrance of the bridge. Arrangements were ac-
cordingly made for finishing the work which had been so well
begun. Fires were kindled on the floors of the cars, and Major
Gilmor with his own hands directed the course of the burning
train towards the bridge. He sprang from the engine as it
moved off, and watched it slowly approaching the bridge. As it
came towards them, the Federal soldiers who had been station-
ed at the end of the bridge drew instinctively back towards
the middle. Onward came the grim iron monster, followed by
the cars, from the windows of which the flames were already
shooting and gleaming. It came on, slowly, but faster than was
consistent with their safety; those who had first retreated were
already at the farther end of the bridge; but for those who had
stood their ground the longest there was need for immediate es-
cape by some means or other. Onward it came, steadily advan-
cing, and seeing no other alternative, they jumped from the bridge
and swam towards the gunboat. Then they saw, for the first
time, that the cars were almost enveloped in flames, and that
there was not a Confederate in charge of the engine.
The train was, of course, moving simply by the impetus which
had been given it at the station, and its speed as it reached the
bridge was but slight. Slower and slower the motion became,
until, as the center of the long bridge was reached, it ceased al-
together. The ends of the bridge were of solid masonry, but
from the two piers nearest the middle of the stream, the struc-
ture was of wood, to allow of its being opened or closed at pleas-
ure, after the fashion of the ancient draw-bridges, but for a
Gilmor’s. Raid into Maryland. 435
somewhat different purpose. It was, of course, useless to try
to destroy the solid stone-work, but the burning of the draw
would interrupt travel for some days. Anxiously, then, the
Confederates waited to see where the train would stop; and
when they saw it come to a standstill in the very middle of the
draw, they felt that they had fully succeeded in their work.
The flames rose to the roof of the cars, and completely envel-
oped them; the elegantly finished structures fell to pieces, and
were simply masses of charred and blazing wood and red-hot
iron, on the timber floor of the bridge. Soon the fire was com-
municated to that ; and the Federals, powerless to put a stop to
the conflagration thus raging above their heads, could only with-
draw to a safe distance, and watch the blazing mass fall hissing
into the waters beneath the bridge.
The telegraph wires were cut, and, feeling that their work at
this point had been well done, the Confederates sent a flag-of-truce
to the Federals on the Juniata, graciously according permission
to the gunboat to come to the beach and take the passengers on
board, in order to convey them to Havre de Grace. Most of the
officers captured were paroled and allowed to return North, as
Major Gilmor had not enough horses to mount them ; and many
were fresh from field-hospitals, and quite unfit for active service
or hard travel. Five of the more important, including Gen.
Franklin, were retained, being conveyed in carriages, closely
guarded.
With characteristic daring, Major Gilmor now took up the
line of march towards Baltimore, intending to pass through that
city; but a timely chance meeting with a friend prevented his
carrying out this plan ; for he received information that a large
force had been sent to the metropolis, that the streets were bar-
ricaded and other preparations made for an enthusiastic recep-
tion. Though his men were by no means bashful when such en-
tertainment awaited them, they were thoroughly worn out by
long and arduous service ; one authority says that they had not
been out of the saddle two hours in forty-eight; but this is prob-
ably an exaggeration, as Col. Gilmor himself states other
figures which make these impossible. Had his men been fresh-
er, he said afterwards, he would have dared all the forces col-
lected in Baltimore.
As it was, he directed his course to Towson, some seven miles
from the city; but on his way thither was frequently informed
28
436 Gilmor's Raid into Maryland.
that a force of cavalry had been sent out to intercept him. De-
termined not to fall back unless he was obliged to do so, he
pressed forward in defiance of these friendly warnings; trusting
to his intimate knowledge of the surrounding country to enable
him to escape in case of being attacked by a force too far supe-
rior to his own.
The leader selected ten men and went forward in person, as
they approached the town, to reconnoiter. All was quiet,
but there were many rumors that a large force was approaching.
The scout returned to the main body, pickets were thrown out,
a detail of ten of the most reliable men placed as guards over
the prisoners and sent to wait at a certain point until daylight.
Fifteen men were next appointed to charge the enemy’s advance-
guard, while Major Gilmor headed the reserve.
It was a cloudy night, and not a star relieved the darkness.
As the formed the column, he could dimly see the men settle
themselves firmly in the saddle and draw their hats down on
their heads, to form as much protection as possible from sabre-
cuts. He could hear the murmur of voices, and now and then
distinguish the words; an expression of desperation, for they
knew they were about to be attacked and were far from any sup-
port; then a few words of encouragement, expressing unbound-
ed confidence in the “Major’s ” ability to bring them through
this serious business, but never a sound that indicated any de-
sire to retreat.
The pickets had orders to allow the enemy to advance, then
to challenge, fire and retreat. The Confederate advance, com-
manded by Lieut. Kemp, were to charge with pistols; the re-
serve to follow with sabres. Arrangements had hardly been
completed before the guns of the pickets were heard, answered
by the crack of ten or twelve carbines. Like an echo, came the
yell with which the Confederate advance charged; and the re-
serve, in order to give the appearance of greater strength, join-
ed in the blood-curdling chorus. The advance charged and re-
treated ; the reserve came up to their support, yelling lustily;
and the enemy, supposing from the voices that there was at
least a regiment coming upon them, wheeled their horses and
galloped away even more rapidly than they had come. Gilmor’s
men, mounted on horses nearly as worn out as their riders, were
unable to overtake the flying Federals, who were on fresh ani-
mals, but still pursued them with a vim that did not indicate
Gilmor’s Raid into Maryland. 437
much exhaustion. Some of the Confederates kept up the chase
for three miles; and recruits who came from Baltimore that
night brought word that the flying cavalry had not stopped un-
til it had reached that city.
Not a man of Gilmor’s command had been lost, and there had
been but one horse wounded. But in spite of the repulse of the
enemy, it was very necessary for them to move onward rapidly.
There was no time, even for the sleep which they needed so
much; and fearing that the men would fall asleep, and drop out
of the column, Major Gilmor took upon himself the office of rear-
guard; a protector, not against the enemy who might pursue, but
against their own human weakness.
Put from such weakness he was no more exempt than they, al-
though his iron frame often enabled him to defy fatigue. He,
too, fell asleep as he rode along, and there was no one behind to
awaken him. Swaying from side to side in the saddle, his horse,
equally weary, did not understand that he was to keep the road;
and had strayed some distance from it when a sudden command
to halt awakened the rider.
“Who goes there 7” challenged the Federal picket.
“A friend,” Major Gilmor replied, hoping to gain time in
which to consider the next answer.
“Friend to whom ſ”
“To the Union; I belong to the First Virginia cavalry, and
my captain sent me ahead to tell you he’d be along here in a few
minutes, so that you would not fire on him. We’ve been on
a scout after Gilmor’s raiders.”
“All right; I won’t fire.”
“I’ll go back then and tell him to come on.”
The messenger rode away, but strangely enough, no part of
the First Virginia Cavalry passed the picket-post that night.
Perhaps it was due to the fact that this “solitary horseman” rode
as rapidly as possible (being now wide awake) towards “Gilmor’s
raiders.” His absence had been discovered, and his second in
command, not knowing why he had paused or turned aside, had
stationed one of the men to wait for him and inform him where
the main body was to halt until he should give further orders.
This man was fast asleep, as were also the others at the place
where they had halted. It was a mere chance that all had not
been captured.
Rousing the sleepers, the command pushed on rapidly towards
438 Gilmor’s Raid into Maryland.
the point to which the prisoners had been sent for safety during
the fight. Maj. Gilmor and Capt. Clark rode twice through the
guard without awaking them; for, like their comrades, all were
fast asleep. On being awakened, and asked where the prison-
ers were, they replied in a sleepy tone, that they were “in the
fence corner;” but the fence corner was empty; the prisoners
had escaped while the guard slept. Thus the command was de-
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prived of the honor of carrying off a major-general of the United
States Army; and although the country for twenty miles around
was thoroughly examined by the men, who had been quite awak-
ened by the discovéry and the major's anger, the missing Feder-
al was not recaptured.
Finding that it would be impossible to proceed until some rest
had been obtained, the command was halted for a few hours.
But at sunrise they were all in the saddle again; for by this time
the whole country was aroused, and the question of getting back
to the main force was beginning to be a serious one.
Marching all day and night without halting, they reached
Gen. Johnson's headquarters, two miles from Poolesville, about
daybreak the next morning. The brigade fell back to the Vir-
ginia side of the Potomac, and there Maj. Gilmor reported to
Gen. Early. The general feeling about the raid was one of sur-




Gilmor's Raid into Maryland. 439
prise that they should have gotten back at all ; and the fact that
they had lost but one man (Fields) during the whole venture-
some expedition only rendered it the more remarkable. Gen.
Lee said afterward that the cutting of the Philadelphia, Wilming-
ton and Baltimore Railroad was the only success in the whole
Maryland campaign which had been planned for Gen. Early’s
division.
CHARTERLY
LIEUT. BAULEY'S EXPERIENCE.
Siege of Atlanta–A Mission of Danger—A Determined Charge — A Firm Re-
sistance—Captured—A Drunken Captor—“Fall in, Prisoners”—An Effort to
Escape – Retaken — The Bivouac.— Buried Alive—The Grave—Waiting—
Resurrection—A Friend—More Friends—In the “Quarters” — Jim—Setting
Out—A Young Scout—Who Proves Unreliable—“Tic-tickets” on the Rail-
road—Worn Out—Disappointment—Rest—A Sleepy Sentinel–Recaptured—
Forebodings of Evil—Two Tete-a-tetes—A Plan—A Good Place to Die in—
The Funeral Arranged — Two Minutes to Pray — A Leap for Life — The
IPursuit—Wounded—A Friend in Need—Return Home.
T was in the month of July, 1864; Sherman had led his vic-
I torious army from Nashville into Georgia; step by step he
had driven the Confederates back; there had been daily fight-
ing for three months, and for more than five weeks the North-
ern forces were to besiege Atlanta. On the 22d, the Federals
pressed forward to occupy the works from which the Con-
federates had seemed to retreat, and the latter saw themselves
“hoist with their own petard” by the reversal of these defences.
But the retreat had been only a ruse; the advance of the Fed-
erals was not to be unopposed. As their line was being grad-
ually extended to encompass the doomed city, there came to the
ears of Gen. Morgan L. Smith and his staff, first, a few scatter-
ing shots; then a heavier rattle of musketry; then a succession
of volleys, followed by the deeper roar of artillery. As yet the
attack thus indicated was on the extreme left, but it would soon
be upon the whole line. The outposts were ordered in, and the
pickets retreated hastily, followed closely by the advance of the
enemy. Various were the reports which the frightened soldiers
gave, but all agreed that the enemy was in full force. Hither
and thither had the staff-officers been sent, on various duties,
440
Lieut. Bailey's Eaperience. 441
and the general turned to the only one remaining at his side ; a
young man of barely twenty-two years, who had but just returned
from the perilous task of ordering in the outposts; slim and
slight, with a boyish, beardless face, and wearing on his should-
ers the straps which indicated the rank of a first lieutenant on
the division staff.
“Bailey, please take a position so you can see if they are
massed, and where. Report to me as soon as you can find out.”
There was a slight elevation just to the rear of the position oc-
cupied by the boys in blue, and thither the young officer ran.
But a report was soon rendered equally needless and impossible,
for he had hardly gained the eminence when the Confederates
emerged from the woods, and rushed upon the works. A flash
of fire, a thunder of cannon, a roar of musketry; the very earth
quaked, as if for fear of her own children ; smoke and dust com-
bined to conceal the retreat of the Confederates; and they re-
formed under cover of the cloud. Again and again the charge
was repeated ; again and again was it repulsed. Even when the
efforts of the assailants were seconded by their batteries, and
the screaming of shells supplemented the whistling of bullets, the
Federals held their ground. At last, under cover of the smoke,
a column of the Confederates formed, advanced, and pressing
through the line of their enemies undiscovered at a weak point
through a railroad cut, gained the rear. Before the fire from
both front and rear no troops could stand ; the works were soon
carried, and the stars and bars planted where lately the stars
and stripes had floated.
Separated from the main body of the Federals by the Confed-
erates who had attacked them in the rear, our hero's position
was now dangerous indeed. Would he be able to rejoin his
friends 7 It was a difficult problem for him to solve, but he suc-
ceeded, by making a small circuit, in reaching a point where his
horse had been left with an orderly. Here, he thought, he would
be safe ; mounted and armed, it would be comparatively easy
for him to escape. But he had reckoned without his host.
Horse and orderly were gone. To all seeming, the sky, over-
cast as it was with the cloud of battle, had rained Rebels; from
every quarter they came ; and he had not had time to move far-
ther before he saw the rifle of one pointed at him, and heard
the command:
“Halt, I’”
442 Lieut. Bailey's Eaſperience.
The weapon trembled in the unsteady hands of the man who
held it, and who was too drunk to take certain aim. Seeing
himself surrounded, Licut Bailey judged it better to comply
with the demand, and was about to surrender his sword, when
the soldier, with all a drunken man’s devilish persistency, hic-
coughed out:
“D n you, I b'lieve I’ll shoot you anyhow ; haven’t shot
my Yankee yet !” -
He could die game, or he could surrender when resistance be-
came useless, but to give up his sword and die too was more than
the young officer had bargained for. As the gray-coat plunged
forward for a closer shot, Bailey grasped the barrel of his gun
and held it pointed at such an angle that its discharge could
hurt no one. His burly antagonist struggled to lower the
weapon, but desperation gave strength to the boy’s arm. How
long the struggle might have continued, no man can tell ; but
just as the power of the drunken man began to fail, a voice from
behind commanded:
“Let go of this sword P’
And the blade was wrenched from the hand of Bailey, whose
whole muscular strength was concentrated in his grasp of the
gun. Turning, he confronted a Confederate officer.
“He was about to shoot me after I had surrendered.”
“He’s drunk,” answered the Reb, laconically. “John, take
this officer to the rear and see that he’s not hurt or robbed.”
The fight went on, but with its further results we have noth-
ing to do. It is sufficient for our narrative to say that the
Northern troops rallied, and, surrounded as they were, finally
repulsed the assailants and drove them back to Atlanta. But,
defeated as they were in this attack, the Southerners kept pos-
session of their prisoners; and eighty officers, with a propor-
tionate number of privates of the Union army, were enrolled as
prisoners of war. At twilight came the order:
“Fall in, prisoners I”
And the whole body was marched off, under proper escort, to-
ward East Point. Night descended, but the captives were far
from desiring rest. Liberty, liberty, coupled with any hardships,
obtained at any price, was the one thing desired. Their escort
of infantry had been replaced by cavalry, and this seemed to
render feasible a plan of escape hastily conjured up by Lieut.
Bailey and a fellow-prisoner. They were to slip just behind the
Lieut. Bailey's Earperience. 443
horse of one, and as far as possible from the next trooper; per-
haps, through the darkness of the night and the dimness of the
woods through which they were passing, they might be able to
reach the Union lines. -
“Fortune favors the brave,” and certainly in this case she
seemed to smile upon the two prisoners. They safely passed
the guard, and in a moment were lost in the deep shadows of the
wood. But this same Dame Fortune is a fickle lady, and soon
forsook them. Right in their path stood a horse, and beside him
his rider, a gray-clad soldier. Snorting and plunging, the ani-
mal gave the alarm—strangers near—the cavalryman challeng-
ed them, and ended by conducting them back to the body from
which all three were stragglers. Their ingenuity and daring
procured them the honor of a special guard during the remainder
of the march.
We pass by the weary days when almost famished and more
than half-starved, they marched onward beneath the burning
sun and through the suffocating dust. At last, after what seem-
ed ages of suffering, came the news that they were bound for
Andersonville. The very name struck terror to their hearts—
these men who had not quailed before the guns of the enemy.
“I won’t live a week at Andersonville, I know I won’t,” said
our young lieutenant.
“Can’t help it,” was the reply of a companion; “there seems
to be no hope of anything else.”
They knew that they could not be exchanged, for the United
States authorities insisted that the colored troops should be rec-
ognized, and the Confederate States refused to do so; thus the
exchange of prisoners had been stopped. Escape or recapture
were the only chances; the latter could not be hoped for, and
the former seemed almost impossible.
The order to halt for the night was given; the prisoners were
allowed the freedom of a good-sized pasture, where they were
visited by some young ladies from the neighborhood. Tired and
hungry as they were, the welcome gifts of fruit were not more
appreciated by the prisoners than the humane sympathy of their
fair enemies; and many of them slept the sweeter for the
thought of the kind Southern girls. But of these our young
hero was not one ; his mental powers were busily employed; he
he must think over a method of escape from the horrors of An-
dersonville.
444 Lieut. Bailey's Eaſperience,
At last the plan was matured in his own brain, communicated
to some trusty comrades, and put into operation. If we may
believe the romancers, it is not a pleasant thing to be buried
alive; still, Lieut. Bailey preferred it to a Southern prison-pen,
and was determined to try it. The “grave” was therefore dug,
due caution being exercised to avoid arousing suspicion; being
“tried on” by the proposed occupant, it was pronounced a good
fit, and he settled himself in it, two hours before daylight—
“No useless coffin inclosed his breast,
Nor in sheet nor in shroud they wound him,
But he lay like a warrior taking his rest,
With no martial cloak around him.”
A canteen served him for a pillow, boughs and grass for a
coverlet; a tin cup, inverted over the nostrils and mouth and an
improvised air-hole allowed him to breathe more freely than
would otherwise have been possible; the earth which had been
removed was replaced upon the branches, or distributed among
the neighboring bushes; finally, stalks of blackberry were cut
and stuck in the earth, which had previously been carefully
covered with grass. Nothing had been forgotten; linen maps
of the country and a pocket compass were in his covering;
rations, scant, it is true, but the most plentiful to be obtained,
were stowed away above his head, just beneath the surface; an
ingeniously contrived opening permitted air to be renewed.
Heavily, yet more heavily pressed the weight of the earth above
him ; numbed, almost paralyzed by the pressure, he dared not
move a muscle, lest he disturb the surface of the ground so care-
fully arranged above him ; and succeeding the burning heat of
a Southern July came the chill almost of death.
Ages upon ages passed away, and into the grave of the living
man came a few faint rays of daylight. But now came an even
greater anxiety than before; had anything altered the appear-
ance of this spot of ground since his friends arranged it, so
as to suggest to the captors that something was wrong? At
every sound above him he would have trembled, if motion had
not been so dangerous; for discovery meant certain death.
Footsteps came near—whose were they 7. The friendly words
soon reassured him :
“All right, lieutenant; lie low; good bye.”
It was the last opportunity that his friends could have to bid
him farewell; but for a long time yet he must indeed, “lie low.”
Lieut. Bailey's Experience. 445
Backward and forward and all around, it seemed to him, were
passing soldiers. Finally, the footsteps became regular; it was
the measured tread of the column marching off; only a little
while, now, and this terrible waiting would be over.
Slowly passed the seconds; each one longer than its prede-
cessor, because nearer to the end. At last all is still. No, there
is a movement of the earth above his head; then a crunching
sound. A grunt of satisfaction betrays the marauding hog that
- N has devoured the ra-
tions hidden just un-
der the surface. Cau-
tiously raising his
head, he finds that
there are two white
children, accom-
panied by a negro
woman, in the past-
ure. Then a slight
show er drives
them to shelter,
and he is about to
emerge from his
hiding-place when lºse- - -
a loud clatter of The Resurrection.
horse's hoofs along the neighboring road causes him to subside
into mother earth again. Three cavalrymen are riding hard to
overtake the main column; why they should be behind does not
bother him; they are not after him.
Let us follow the stragglers, and find out what the Rebs knew
of the escape. After a half hour's march, the column was halt-
ed, and a roll-call of the prisoners ordered. “One officer miss-
ing” was the report; and a patrol was sent back to retake him.
Anxiously the captives awaited the result; a shot, two shots,
were heard from the vicinity of the road; a sigh was given to
the memory of “poor Bailey,” who had escaped Andersonville
--~~-
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5: sº

















446 Lieut. Bailey's Eaſperience.
by death in the forest; and they went on their way, to report
him, when a special exchange freed them, as killed.
But, though buried, Lieut. Bailey was very much alive; the
shots had been heard by him, and had caused some alarm ; he
did not know until afterward that they were fired in the air to
frighten his late fellow-prisoners; but after the echoes had died
away, and no new ones had been awakened, he determined to
leave his place of concealment, now rendered untenable by the
rain, which was falling in torrents. Springing from his burrow
he made his way hastily to the neighboring woods. But here
was a new cause of alarm—a human form near him. But he
could hardly believe his eyes when he saw it was clothed in
blue. The stranger proved to be one of the privates captured at
the same time as Lieut. Bailey, who had fallen asleep in a brush
pile, and had not awakened until the departure of the guard.
The plan of the two escaped prisoners was to keep to a gener-
al northeasterly course, skirting the Confederate right flank, and
getting to the Federal left. Without food or arms, such an at-
tempt may well seem impracticable; but it must be remembered
that they hoped to avoid the Rebel scouts and foragers, and to
fall in with similar parties of friends; for food, they trusted to the
negroes, who were known to be well-disposed towards the blue-
coats; the same dusky friends must furnish them with informa-
tion as to roads, position of forces, etc.
As we have seen, neither of the fugitives had breakfasted;
their dinner consisted of blackberries, of which they found a
plentiful supply in the fields, and muddy water. As twilight
fell, they began to think that supper must be a repetition of one
of the other meals—blackberries or nothing; for it was danger-
ous to leave the shelter of the woods.
But necessity knows no law ; their keen youthful appetites .
soon spurred them on, regardless of danger; and they approach-
ed the road. There was an alarm before they had well quitted
their shelter; the clatter of hoofs on the rocky road drove them
behind a large bush, whence they watched a squadron of South-
ern cavalry dash past.
Again emerging opposite a handsome mansion, they circled
around the more pretentious dwelling, to reach the humble one
in the rear—the one where they expected to be welcome. Nor
were they mistaken. Cautiously making themselves known at
the cabin, they were astonished at the heartiness of the welcome
Lieut. Bailey's Eaſperience. 447
they received—they found that “the half had not been told.”
“Nebber seed no Yankees before. Bress de Lord, we’s all jist
waitin’ to do somefin’ for you all. You kin count on de darkeys,
massa, ebery time.”
“But not on the whites ?”
“Better not, massa. Dey’s all grand rascals. You all better
jist 'pend on the darkeys; dey’ll help you ebery time.”
And the old “aunty” went diligently on with her work of
stuffing their haversacks with the coarse, wholesome food which
was all she had. Ascertaining from the negroes that they were
about thirty miles almost directly south of Atlanta, they con-
sulted their maps, and marked out their course; northeasterly
to Covington or Lithonia, and thence westward to Atlanta ;
thus settling more definitely the plan of approach which they had
at first adopted. Departing at midnight, followed by the most fer-
vent blessings of their entertainers, they again took to the woods,
guided through the darkness by the compass which had formed
part of Lieut. Bailey's outfit. The fire-flies turned traitors to
the Southern cause, compelled by the force of circumstances to
do so, and lighted the face of the compass when held near it
sufficiently to show the position of the needle.
Chased by bloodhounds that had evidently mistaken the scent,
their knowledge of woodcraft suggested that such pursuit might
be baffled by wading down a stream; and such was the way in
which they escaped. Traveling by night, they rested by day,
one standing guard while the other slept. So several days pass-
ed, and although they had eked out supplies by blackberries and
watermelons “confiscated” from the enemy, the food provided
by the negroes was gone. Something must be done to obtain a
fresh supply, and going to work as before, they were even more
successful. Fearful of arousing suspicion in “the house” by too
much excitement at “the quarters,” the negroes to whom they
now applied conveyed them to the heart of an orchard. Wel-
comed and fed as in the first instance, their hearts were gladden-
ed by the information that the Federal cavalry had burned a
railroad station only ten miles away on the previous night, and
were hourly expected to pass by on the road they had just left.
One of the negroes was appointed to guide them to a safe
cover where they could rest for the night; and again, with well-
filled haversacks, they set out upon their journey. But time
would fail us to tell of the days and nights of danger and priva-
448 -- Lieut. Bailey's Earperience.
tion; when they unconsciously crept so close to a Rebel outpost
that the cracking of a twig would have betrayed them ; when
the guns of Sherman, thundering around Atlanta, made music in
their ears; when every moment's silence in that direction made
their hearts sink, lest Sherman should have been driven back.
It was the night of August 1st when, for the third time, they
sought help from the negroes; and well it was that they did so.
Squads of cavalry were constantly scouring the country, and ad-
vance would have been almost certain recapture. Not only did.
the faithful creatures provide them with food, but they found
shelter for the fugitives in the straw-house. Here they passed
two nights; but not without danger; for they could not tell
when the straw might be wanted by the Confederates. To re-
main here during the day was altogether out of the question ; so
a shelter was constructed in the woods—a hut that only close ex-
amination could tell from the neighboring brush-heap, whence
had been drawn the building materials. But a storm demolish-
ed this, and they were obliged to brave greater danger by
sleeping in the loft of one of the cabins.
This, then, was their life for more than two weeks; hiding in
the woods by day, sleeping at night in the loft. Many were the
alarms given, but all proved false, at least so far as our two fu-
gitives were concerned. But the private soldier whom Lieut.
Bailey had met in the woods was no favorite with the negroes.
A mere boy of seventeen, he was careless in matters which in-
volved the safety of all ; and took no pains to retain the affec-
tion which his uniform had won for him. They refused, then,
to give him shelter any longer, and had procured a strange ne-
gro to guide him to the Federal lines. Lieut. Bailey was pros-
trated by illness, and saw his companion depart, his only re-
maining hope being the advance of the Federals. They could
not tell which would first fall into the hands of friends, and each
charged the other with messages to be sent home.
“De Yankees is comin’,” announced the negroes, one to the
other, in feigned dismay, but real delight; and the boom of the
guns only a few miles away confirmed the report. The “family,”
one member of which was a Confederate soldier, home on sick-
leave, took refuge in the swamps; but the negroes, secure in
having befriended a Federal officer, remained near their guest as
long as they could find an excuse for doing so. At no time was he
left entirely alone, for the negroes were continually going back
Lieut. Bailey's Earperience. 449
and forth. At last, to the great relief of the fugitive family, and
the equal dismay of their servants’ guest, the alarm was ascer-
tained to be a false one. The Federal guns had indeed been
heard at a distance of three miles, but it was only a comparative-
ly small force of cavalry that had raided entirely around them,
and returned to the main body.
It lacked but a day of being three weeks since he had com-
mitted himself to the care of these friends, when Lieut. Bailey
heard some one appoaching his home in the brush.
“Don’t be skeered, massa,” was the friendly reassurance, “it’s
jist me—Jim.”
Jim was the one who had undertaken to conduct Bailey’s com-
panion to the Federal lines.
“Did you get through all right, Jim 7” asked the officer eager-
ly, as soon as Jim was within whispering distance.
“Dunno, massa; 'spec's so,” replied Jim, scratching his head.
“What do you mean * Didn’t you keep together until you
got to the lines?”
“No, Sah; you see, massa, dat soldier I specs is mighty brave,
but he ain't keerful; and I knowed we’d bofe git cotched if he
wasn’t. What you think he done 7 Stole watermelons outer
Mas’ Gleaton's patch in broad day, and he seed him and tole de
Rebel cabalry. Couldn’t do nuffin wid sich a pusson as dat,
sah.”
“Where did you leave him 7” queried the soldier, aghast;
“what has become of him 7”
“Don’t you be 'feared, massa; specs he's all right by dis time.
Ijist got some udder niggers to take keer of him. You see, sah,
I run away from my massa, I did, and if dey was to cotch me it’d
be a mighty sight wuss for me dan for anybody else that helped
you all.”
The officer mused a moment, and Jim looked on in fear and
trembling; had he offended the “Yankee,” for whom he would
have done anything in his power 7
“I kin take you froo to de lines, sah,” he ventured at last;
“’Caze you's keerful. Won’t you let me, sah 7” -
“When can we start 7’’
“T’morrer, sah.”
“I must see Mr. Smith first, and try and learn from him if
there are many scouts around.”
“Massa Smif's mighty strong Secesh, sah.”
450 Lieut. Bailey’s Eaſperience.
“Never mind that; I know how to overcome that by some-
thing stronger.”
Jim evidently could not comprehend anything stronger than
Mr. Smith’s Southern sympathies, but the event proved that there
was. Cautiously leaving his retreat at dusk, Lieut. Bailey ap-
proached the house by the road, and as if he had but just arrived in
the neighborhood, sent a note by one of the slaves to ask for infor-
mation. To this note was appended the mystic sign of a bond that
was and is stronger than political or sectional feeling. The an-
swer came without delay; he would not betray even the enemy
who came to him ; and with a truly Arab hospitality the strang-
er was received.
Mr. Smith could afford no information as to the movements of
either army, and the Federal left his house at daybreak to re-
turn to his brushwood dwelling. Now came the news that At-
lanta was saved to the Confederates, that Sherman was falling
back. The silence of the guns seemed to confirm this report,
and it was with a heavy heart that the fugitive followed his
guide towards the retreating Army of the Tennessee. Setting
out at evening, they reached, about ten o’clock, a plantation
where they expected to get valuable information from a negro
who had recently been to Atlanta on an errand for his master.
But disappointment awaited them here ; the slaves were not
allowed to know too much, and there were many important
points on which they could obtain no information. They could
only press on to the house of a Mr. Freeman, whom the negroes
knew as a Union man.
Here he met with as enthusiastic a welcome as in any of the
“quarters” that he had visited, and learned that his late com-
panion had departed for the Federal lines only a short time be-
fore. Not only was he welcomed here, but kept in safety until
opportunity should offer for his final escape to the army.
At last they heard the true reason for the silence of Sher-
man’s guns; he had executed the famous “flank movement”
around the Confederate army, and had taken Atlanta. As yet
they could not learn the particulars, only that the city had fall-
en at last. While this allayed Bailey’s fears as to the distance
which he would have to travel before reaching the lines, it ren-
dered his present position somewhat precarious, for the retreat-
ing Confederates seemed to be everywhere. Most of the time
was spent at Freeman's, in hiding or disguise; a little in the
Lieut. Bailey’s Experience. 451
woods, when there was danger of the house being searched, and
some at the cabins of his dusky friends.
A couple of slaves who had run away from their master, and
were trying to reach the Federal lines, had become possessed of
a carbine which had once been the property of a Federal caval-
ryman. In endeavoring, with his comrades on the raid, to ford
the river, he had become overpowered by the force of the cur-
rent and drowned. The gun, at first considered a prize by its
colored owner, became an elephant on his hands; it would be
very dangerous for him to be caught with that in his possession;
and he readily yielded it to Lieut. Bailey. Thus armed, he felt
himself a match for a host, but his friends would not suffer him
to leave them until the country was no longer overrun by the
butternut-clothed stragglers.
At last the coast was considered clear; and a day, or rather
an evening (Oct. 5) was fixed for his departure. But the assist-
ance of Jim, as a guide, was absolutely necessary; and as Jim
did not put in an appearace at the proper time, all kinds of
guesses as to his safety and fidelity were hazarded. Late the
next day he came, with many lame excuses, and despite the re-
monstrances of his friends, the officer set out with the guide.
Pressing onward, a friendly negro cautioned them that Texas
Rangers scoured the country daily for deserters and runaway
slaves, and strongly advised them to return. Of this, however,
they had no notion. The little son of a lady, who had strong
Northern sympathies, was sent on a reconnoissance to the town
of Livonia, then three miles distant, and returned with the in-
formation that there were no soldiers to be seen.
Relying upon this intelligence, for they had received unmis-
takable proofs of the mother's sincerity, the two pressed onward,
only to find Confederate pickets posted about the town; their
scout had evidently been careless. Instead, then, of being able
to rest here, they must hasten on to Decatur, fifteen miles far-
ther. There, they learned, were the Federal outposts; reaching
that point by daybreak, they were safe; but if they failed to
penetrate to the lines, there was nothing to expect but a return
to captivity.
Being so sure, from the boy’s report, that there were no sol-
diers at Livonia, they had advanced somewhat incautiously, and
were almost in the light of the camp-fire before they discovered
all the truth; then, tired as they were, with fifteen miles yet to
29
452 Lieut. Bailey’s Experience.
go, they had to make a wide detour to avoid discovery. But at
last the railroad was safely gained. -
Now, a “tie-ticket” is by no means a passport to the most
pleasant kind of traveling; but the firm bed of the road was bet-
ter in that it permitted better progress than the ordinary coun-
try road; and as they went at full speed, Bailey felt his spirits
rise. Not so his “companion, guide and friend.”
“Don’t b'lieve I kin git any farder, sah.”
Oh, yes, Jim ; we must go on. We must be at Decatur by day-
break, or they’ll catch us again.” - -
“Can’t help it, sah ; can’t go on.”
But still he kept on, nerved to further endurance by the reso-
lute will of the white man. Evading a picket that the enemy
had posted to command the railroad, by creeping on all fours
along the earthen embankment on which the camp-fire was built,
they obtained absolute information that the Federal pickets
were one mile from Decatur; this was ascertained by Lieut.
Bailey marching boldly up to a house, almost within hearing of
the soldiers at the fire, and representing himself as “Capt.
Blake, 35th Georgia.” Much cheered by this news, he rejoined
his companion, and they crept back to the railroad. Onward
they went at full speed, notwithstanding Jim's piteous lament-
ations, for which the soldier, suffering full as much as he, had no
mercy. What were torn and bleeding feet when weighed in the
scale with liberty 7
The night grew darker around them, but the soldier comfort-
ed himself with this comparison. It did, indeed, seem the darkest
hour through which he had yet passed ; despite his cheering
words to Jim, it sometimes seemed doubtful if he could sustain
himself on his feet long enough to reach the goal; but, to use a
proverb of his own native Missouri, “he was not born in the
woods to be scared by an owl,” and he was determined to reach
the Federal lines. The darkness passed away, and soon the full
beams of the sun were upon them. They had passed the point
where, their last informant said, the pickets had been stationed.
The breastworks are in sight; painfully they toil onward;
strange that no voice challenges them as they advancel Far-
ther still, but still there is none of the bustle of the camp
which the soldier so longed to hear! At last the dreadful truth
broke upon them—the friends to whom they had looked for suc-
cor, had
Lieut. Bailey’s Experience. 453
“Folded their tents like the Arabs,
And silently stole away,”
leaving the enemy ignorant of their movements.
In their exhausted condition, literally footsore and weary,
nothing was to be done but to rest. Selecting a retired spot,
they made arrangements for passing the day there. Of course,
it was dangerous to remain ; but we must remember that it was
impossible to go on.
“Jim, I’ll keep guard while you sleep, and then you can do the
same while I sleep.” -
“All right, massa; jus’ as you say, sah.”
Never was command more willingly obeyed, and Jim had
hardly uttered the words before he was sound asleep. In too
much pain to court the sweet restorer, even if prudence had not
demanded that a guard be kept, Lieut. Bailey waited patiently
until Jim should have had the repose so much needed.
As he sat bathing his lacerated feet in a stream that ran near
“headquarters,” he saw a boy of thirteen, clad in a full Federal
uniform, approach, and then hasten away. Limping after him,
and questioning him, our hero learned that the Northern forces
had left sometime during the night; that this boy had been em-
ployed by the quartermaster, and was friendly to the Federals.
With many assurances of secrecy and fidelity, the youth en-
gaged to ascertain if the Union forces had left Atlanta yet, and
to inform the officer before dark.
The sun had marked high noon some time before Jim was
awakened from his slumbers, and Lieut. Bailey lay down to rest.
Many were the admonitions delivered to the sentinel.
“Now Jim, be sure and waken me—shake me well—if you
hear the least sound that’s suspicious.” -
“Sahtain to do it, sah,” protested Jim, showing a great
amount of white in the eyes and mouth.
“Remember, the least thing. You mustn't wait to see what it
is.”
“I do jis’ as you tell me, sah.”
So Jim was left, carbine in hand, to stand guard over the sol-
dier. It may be believed that that gentleman did not vainly
court slumber. It came, but not to stay. Not long had he slept
before he was awakened by a harsh :
“Hello, there !” -- *
Almost in his ear, it seemed. He started up, to find a rifle
454 Lieut. Bailey’s Experience.
aimed at his breast by a “butternut.” There was no time for in-
vestigation as to the way in which this had occurred; the aim of
the gun was too certain for that.
“Surrender,” summoned the stranger, moving the muzzle of
his piece a hair's breadth, to “make assurance doubly sure.”
Bailey gave a side glance and saw Jim also in custody, his
guard being clad in a full blue uniform. The “butternut” began
to grow impatient, and pressed his demand for a surrender.
“How am I to be treated 7”
“As a prisoner of war, of course,” was the unequivocal reply.
“Well, I guess I can’t help it; I’m your prisoner, sir.”
Yielding himself up thus, the soldier turned to Jim indig-
nantly. t
“Couldn’t help it, sah,” pleaded the darkey; “you might
a knowed I’d fall asleep jis’ as soon as I got in de hot sun.”
It was no use to be angry at the poor fellow trudging along at
his side, who would suffer as much in captivity as himself, if not
more; so he controlled his disgust, and marched on with his
captors. The blue uniform of one had at first puzzled him, but
he soon learned that it was to have been used as a decoy, in case
he had been awake. Such was the admission of the wearer him-
self.
Jim was closely questioned as to the circumstances under
which he had joined his fortunes with the lieutenant's, and with
a sublime disregard for the truth, averred that he had accompa-
nied his master from St. Louis, and had been captured with him.
This, of course, secured for him more lenient treatment than
would have been his lot had they known he was a runaway
slave.
Singleton, the man in the blue uniform, was placed on guard,
while his companion, named Fowler, searched the prisoners. As
most of Lieut. Bailey’s possessions, aside from indispensables,
had been bestowed upon the negroes who had befriended him,
the search did not “pan out” well. His pocket-book was the
only thing that suited the fastidious taste of his captor.
“I’ll take this; you may keep the other things a while longer.
Fix to go with us, now.” - -
The permission to retain his property “a while longer” was
ominous of evil; where was he to go with his captors? On that
he could only cogitate as they marched along; Singleton in
front, then Jim, then Bailey, while Fowler, armed with his own
Lieut. Bailey’s Experience. 455.
and the Federal’s rifle, brought up the rear. They had gone
but a short distance when a halt was called.
“Reckon we’d better turn him over to the cavalry and get him
off our hands before dark,” suggested Fowler to his compan-
ion, with a significant look. -
“Yes, I s' pose we had,” replied the other, nodding in answer
to the meaning in Fowler's look.
The prisoner ventured to ask where the cavalry post was, and
was told that it was “at the Circle;” but of this latter term no
explanation was given.
Many were the expressions which led the officer to the belief
that Fowler did not intend to treat him as a prisoner of war.
“I can hardly limp along, sir,” the captive complained;
“can’t you go a little more slowly 7 My feet are very painful.”
“Never mind,” was the not very consoling reply; “they won’t
hurt you much longer.”
After such an answer, given with brutal indifference, there
could no longer be any doubt of their intentions. Turning into
the woods, ostensibly for a short cut to the road beyond, the
two captors drew apart for consultation, and the prisoners seiz-
ed their chance. To run was out of the question, for not only
must they brave the shots of their guard, but the condition of
their feet would not permit the necessary speed. But they were
able to communicate privately with each other.
“Jim, they are going to shoot us.”
“Is dey, lieutenant 7” responded Jim, rolling up his eyes in
terror, till no color was visible.
“I’m certain of it, for—how anxiously they are expecting us in
St. Louis I We must write as soon as possible to let them know
we are safe.”
This sudden turn in the conversation was intended to deceive
Fowler, who, suddenly ceasing his conference with Singleton,
cautiously approached the prisoners to find out what they were
saying. Several times the captors found it necessary to deliber-
ate, and each time the captives seized the opportunity for pri-
vate speech. The order of the line had so far been changed that
Lieut. Bailey was second, and Jim third ; but the guards still pre-
served their relative position. It was on this order of march
that the officer relied in planning an escape.
“The first good chance I see,” he said to Jim, during one of
the short conferences, “I will spring on the man in front of me,
456 Lieut. Bailey's Experience.
and if I don’t get his gun, I’ll hold on to it so that he can’t shoot
with it. The man behind you will shoot me then, unless you
keep him from it. Will you let him shoot me, Jim?”
“Ob cose not, sah. When I see you cotch hold ob dat front
man's gun, I reckon I’d better git at dis yere one, hadn't I?”
“That's just what I want you to do, Jim. I’ll let you know
when I am going to try it. Will you do it?”
“Sahtain to do it sah, sahtain,” answered Jim, emphatically.
But though the answer appeared reassuring enough, Lieut.
Bailey did not feel as entirely confident of his companion as he
might have done if he had not known so lately an instance of
Jim’s “sahtain to do it.” A sentinel who slept on his post at a
time of such danger could hardly be considered reliable.
Nevertheless, he felt that he had much to gain, little to lose;
perhaps only a few moments of life; and he was determined
to trust his last chance to Jim. He quickened his pace, limping
so rapidly as to almost overtake Singleton, when the word
C2, Iſle :
“Halt l”
Of course, the proposed action must be postponed, and forever.
Disencumbering himself of one rifle, and carelessly playing with
the other, Fowler addressed the officer :
“My friend, this is as good a place to die as any man could
Wish.”
“Let me remind you, sir, of your promise to treat us as pris-
oners of war.” .
“Well, this is the way we treat prisoners of war.”
Then followed a long harangue on the thieving propensities
of the “d d Yankees.” It was in vain that the prisoner
urged that the privates often committed outrages without the
knowledge of the officers, who could not be responsible; that
this was too great a punishment; that he would give Fowler pa-
pers that would insure protection, and so forth.
“D——n yùur papers,” was the surly reply; “they don’t pro-
tect nothing; Gen. Sherman's don’t. There ain’t no use arguing;
you’ve got to die!” -
An appeal to Singleton seemed to arouse his sympathy and
sense of justice; but he was evidently only a subordinate, and
dare not make any objection to the execution of the prisoners.
“Give me one of the carbines and one round of ammunition, and
let me try for my life with the best marksman,” suggested the
-, -- . , "I s
Lieut. Bailey's Experience. 457
soldier, at last, as a forlorn expedient at a desperate moment.
“D n his impudence,” exclaimed Fowler; and replied, in
a low tone, to Singleton, who had asked what disposition they
should make of the body: “Bury it, of course.”
“But we haven’t got anything to dig with.”
“O, there's lots of leaves, and then there's the hogs.”
The prisoner overheard this cheering bit of the programme,
and feeling that there was no more hope, tried to prepare him-
self for death. But there thronged into his mind visions of the
battle-field, of the soldier's death amid the rattle of musketry and
the roar of cannon. He could not die in this way; he must es-
cape. Half unconsciously he turned his head, to see what chance
might remain to him.
“He’s getting ready to run.” -
“Let him, if he likes it better that way, answered Fowler;
“he can’t run far.”
“Will you give me twenty paces?” asked the prisoner, forget-
ful of his torn and bleeding feet.
<<INo.”
“Ten, then?”
“Not one. We'll just give you two minutes to pray, and
then—”
The pause was more significant than words. The prisoner
kneeled, but his thoughts had not left the earth so entirely that
he did not see the two rifles immediately leveled at his breast.
They intended to shoot him during the time that they had ac-
corded him for prayer. He sprang to his feet in an instant.
“You promised me two minutes to pray in.”
“Time's up. Kneel down there,” was the savage answer.
Bending his knee again, as if to obey the command, he leaped
backward, and, turning, ran unsteadily through the woods.
Scarcely had he turned, before the report of Fowler's rifle was
heard in his very ear, its hot breath felt upon his cheek; then,
so closely following that it seemed the echo of the first, Single-
ton’s weapon was discharged. He had taken a zigzag course,
deeming it safer than one more direct; but it proved of no avail;
as this second ball whistled on its short course of barely fifteen
feet, he felt in his arm and through his body a sharp pang; then
he had literally “bitten the dust.” Not in its usual figurative
sense, however, is the saying to be taken; he was not dead, al-
though grievously wounded; for the ball, penetrating through
458 Lieut. Bailey’s Experience.
breast and right shoulder, had passed through the body and
right lung. Springing up immediately, he rushed on, unmind-
ful of the pain, unmindful of the blood gushing from the ragged
wound, unmindful of everything but the hope of liberty and the
fear of being recaptured. As he rises, a third shot carries his
cap from his head. Now he considers himself safe from farther
wounds, for they have not had time to reload; but still a fourth
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A Short Shrift. gard the pain,
could make them carry him towards liberty, but he knows that
he will soon be faint from loss of blood. Yet his flying steps car-
ry him onward, despair lending strength to the fainting body
and increasing the distance. Hope rises in his heart. But ter-
rible, then, is the sound of footsteps upon the dry leaves behind
him. They are pursuing ! How long can he hold out 7
“O—lieutenant—won’t you please—sah—wait fer me, sah 7”
calls a familiar voice in gasps. -
He halts to wait for his fellow fugitive. The others are no-
where in sight. - -
“Reckon they concluded not to come; neber seen anyt'ing
done so quick in all my bawn days, Sah; you was done gone be-
faw dey could say ‘Jiff.’”
“Didn’t they chase me?”
“No, sah; you was too quick for dat; you was done gone be-
faw dey know’d what you was a gwine fer to do. Dey shot after
you.” -
“I know that—they hit me.”
“Did it hurt you, sah 7”































Lieut. Bailey’s Experience. 459
“Yes, I'm afraid I’m very badly wounded, indeed. See here.”
“Seed you fall, sah, but you was up so quick I thought you
jist stumbled. O Lord, neber saw anyt’ing so quick in all my
bawn days l’’
It became necessary now to exercise caution in planning their
route. Their late guard would naturally expect that they
would press on towards Atlanta; hence, they had better take
exactly the opposite direction. The friendly woods sheltered
them until dusk, and afforded a much needed rest to the wound-
ed man. Twilight came, and although he could hardly move,
he knew that in the woods he could not survive until morning;
so, supported by his faithful Jim, who had many times asked
forgiveness for his one act of carelessness he bent his feeble
steps towards a cottage near by.
“I am an enemy, badly wounded,” he began.
“It don’t make any difference who you are,” was the reply of
the lady who opened the door, as she perceived his condition;
“Come right in, and let us help you.”
His story was briefly told as the ladies dressed his wounds
and made him as comfortable as possible. The news soon spread
and Jim was dispatched by night to Atlanta for aid. On the
day after his escape his eyes were gladdened by the sight of a
body of Federal soldiers, escorting a surgeon and an ambulance.
Three prisoners were in the train, and these were brought before
the wounded officer.
“Do these look like the men that captured you, lieutenant 7”
His eye passed from face to face, but all were unfamiliar. The
prisoners were much relieved at his failure to recognize them.
“They didn’t want to let us pass them, so we brought them
along. Pickets, they say.”
The party soon set out; but our hero had not yet seen the last
of his captors. As they rode along, a single rifle-shot was heard.
The commander of the guard, which was a hundred and fifty
strong, immediately sent a detachment in search of the bush-
whackers. They returned without prisoners, but described two
men whom they had chased for some distance; Bailey recog-
nized them as Fowler and Singleton.
Through the long months of convalescence we need not follow
him. Safely in the hands of his friends at Atlanta, he was, as
soon as the state of his wound would permit, removed to St.
Louis, where, upon the recommendation of his colonel, he was
460 lieut. Bailey's Experience.
commissioned captain, although not physically fit for active ser-
vice during the remainder of the war. Lieut. Bailey has graphi-
cally, and in more minute detail, given his experiences to the
public in a neat little volume, entitled, “A Private Chapter of
the War,” in which he publishes the unlovely face of Fowler,
and that of the kind lady who cared for him after being wound-
ed, until the Federals came to his relief.
£HAPTER LWI.
VISITING HOME UNDER DIFFICULTIES.
A Disappointment, to Begin With—Determined to Go-Reluctance of Officer—
The Union Men of Tennessee —Tinker Dave Beatty — Tricking the Feder-
als—Capt. Guild's Plan—A Friend—Dangers of the Attempt—“Our” Men—
In Sight of Home—Reception — Departure — Fate of his Comrades — With
Friends.
HILE Gen. Sherman was besieging Atlanta, the Confed-
V V erates of course endeavored to harass the Federal rear
as much as possible; and many were the attacks upon small
forces and train-guards. But in order to make any impression
upon the besiegers, it was necessary, not only to destroy the stores
which were already in their hands, but to prevent other supplies
reaching them. In order to accomplish this much desired end,
Gen. Wheeler made a raid northward into Tennessee, destroy-
ing the railroad track for miles, and driving before him small
bodies of Federals that had been left to defend certain points.
His force numbered five thousand men, and of these he judged
it necessary to detach one regiment, the Fourth Tennessee Cav-
alry, to attack an unfinished fort at Tracy City, them in the
hands of the Federals. &
This order interfered seriously with the plans of some six or
seven members of the regiment, who had hoped to be near
enough to their homes in Tennessee to pay a flying visit to “the
folks.” Among these was one Captain George Guild, now of
Nashville, but then of Gallatin, who was determined not to be
foiled by any change in the plans of the commanding general.
Accordingly, while the others were grumbling at the order
which took them directly away from their homes, which were “so
near, and yet so far,” he went to Col. Anderson, who was in com-
461
462 Visiting Home Under Difficulties.
mand of the regiment, to obtain the desired leave of absence.
“I can go into Gallatin at night, and leave it at night. And
then, too, perhaps I can get hold of some information that may
prove to be valuable.”
“I don’t know,” said the colonel, doubtfully, shaking his head;
“I’m afraid its pretty certain that you can’t do it. You'll either
be killed or captured.”
“I’ll risk it, Colonel, if you’ll only give me leave from the
regiment.”
But the colonel held firmly to his own opinion of the hazard
of the expedition ; and it was only after a long argument that
he could be brought to give a reluctant consent. Once having
won it for himself, Capt. Guild lost no time in asking it for his
companions; and as the size of the party would rather diminish
the danger, Col. Anderson was readily prevailed upon to give
the desired permission to the whole party. No time was lost in
preparation; and that very night the little party set out on
their march.
The command was in the Sequatchie Valley, whither it had
been ordered almost immediately after the fight at Strawberry
Plains; it was, therefore, necessary for them to cross a spur of
the Cumberland Mountains. This they did, proceeding by way
of Cookeville, to Crossville. Though Tennessee was nominally
a Confederate state, there were many strong Union men within
her borders; just as, in some of the states that did not secede,
there were thousands of Secessionists. In such cases, those who
differed in politics from the majority of their neighbors often
suffered severely, not from the troops alone, but from the malice
of those who had been esteemed as friends. To so great a length
did this persecution sometimes go, that the victims of it were
driven from house and home, to find a shelter in the brush that
bordered the prairie-stream, or in the caves and fastnesses of
the mountains. Of course, such men had no mercy for those
whose partisans had driven them to this kind of life, and to the
horrors incident to ordinary warfare was added another—guer-
illa life, bushwhacking, or, to give it the name claimed for it,
partisan warfare.
Among the Union men of Tennessee who were thus driven
from their homes, sworn to revenge their outrages upon any
or all Confederates, there were many whose names acquired a
national, though temporary fame. Among them was one whom
Visiting Home Under Difficulties. 463
his enemies, and often his friends, too, knew as Tinker Dave
Beatty, whose uncompromising loyalty to the United States and
whose hatred of what he considered rank treason, often led him
into excesses which made his name the terror and execration of
the surrounding country. Frequently, as the little party of home-
ward-bound Confederates journeyed on, they would be warned
that Tinker Dave had just gone that way with a body of his ad-
herents; that the d d Lincolnite Beatty was in the neighbor-
hood; that the bushwhackers were specially violent of late;
and so forth. Thanking these friends for the kindly warnings,
the Rebs pushed on, utterly disregarding them, except so far as
a strict watch was concerned.
But the warnings came faster and yet more impressive; and
the Confederates, deeming discretion the better part of valor in
this instance, lay by during the day and traveled only at night;
thus avoiding the man who made it his boast that he took no
prisoners. But though their route was thus beset with dangers,
they were not without enjoyment. They knew that there were
many Federal soldiers at home on furlough in that part of the
country, and resolved to have some fun with them, even if it
were attended by considerable risk. Ascertaining from Seces-
sionist residents the names and abodes of these, they would, un-
der cover of darkness, ride up to one of the houses thus indicated
and knock loudly. Then some such conversation as this would
OCCUl I’:
“Does live here?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’d like to see him a moment.”
“What do you want with me, sir?”
“You belong to Gen. Stokes’ command, I believe, sir.”
“Yes, I am home on furlough.”
“Sorry for you, but we have orders to scour the country and
direct all members of the command, wherever we find them, to
report to headquarters at Carthage at once.”
“Well, I heard the Rebels were coming, but I was in hopes it
was a false alarm.” This dolefully.
“It’s only too true. There's some of them right near here.
Do you know of any other of your command at home around
here 7” -
“Yes, there’s and and —; they live—”
And the Federal would very obligingly direct them to the
K."
464 Visiting Home Under Difficulties.
houses of his comrades, where the same scene would be repeat-
ed. What the Feds said when they got to Carthage and found
that a practical joke had robbed them of a goodly portion of
their furlough, history does not relate in recording profanity.
But they had now reached a point where they would no longer
be one party, for their homes lay scattered along the route. One
of the soldiers, Capt. Grissim, urged that Capt. Guild should go
home with him to spend a night before proceeding on his jour-
ney, but the latter, although still some distance from home, in-
isted upon pushing on without delay. Had he accepted the in-
vitation so cordially given, we would have had no story to tell,
for the next morning Capt. Grissim and his two brothers were
shot down, in their father's door, in the presence of their mother,
by men dressed in Confederate uniform ; Guild would have
made the fourth if he had allowed himself to be persuaded to
accompany his friend.
Rinowing that he would have to exercise extreme care in visit-
ing his home, Capt. Guild decided to send his negro servant
with another of the party, who lived in a less dangerous local-
ity. Hitherto, all had made the journey on horseback, but, for
the sake of greater security, Capt. Guild gave his horse in charge
to his servant, and went forward on foot.
The difficulties of the march were much enhanced by the ret-
icence and suspicion of the people. In a country where now
one side, now the other, was dominant, they dared not help
either, lest it come to the ears of the other; indeed, many of
them were somewhat in the situation of the old farmer who
lived in a portion of the country similarly overrun, and who
exclaimed, as he surveyed his pillaged barn and empty smoke
house: “Well, I haint took neither side, but I’ll be darned if
both sides haint took me.” Under such circumstances, it was
extremely difficult to find out what were the real sentiments of
tho people, but after a little skillful questioning he decided to
pass as a deserter from the Federal army. All went well, until
he told his story to a farmer named Walton, whom he hoped to
prevail upon to set him across the river. This man was keener-
eyed than his acquaintances, and showed, by his quizzical smile
that he more than half disbelieved the story. Under the cir-
cumstances, feeling sure that he would not betray the trust re-
posed in him, Capt. Guild said:
“O, I reckon I might as well own up. I can confide in you,
Visiting Home Under Difficulties. 465
I’m sure. You will protect a Southern man, I know.”
“Well, I reckon so. You’re a Reb, ain’t you, sir?” ---
“Yes; I’m trying to make my way to Gallatin, to see my fam-
ily.”
“Come along home with me, and have supper and a good
night's rest; you’re right about it; you can trust me, sure's my
namo's Walton.”
“I can’t stay all night, thank you, but I’d be much obliged if
you’d give me a lift that far.”
“Well, get in.” &
The soldier got into the ox-cart, which formed the farmer’s
primitive vehicle, and after a due amount of shouting, the pa-
tient beasts landed them at the desired spot.
“Mother, this gentleman is a Confederate that wants to go to
Gallatin to see his folks. What do you think of it?”
“Well I don’t know; I'd hate to have anybody belonging to
me try to do it, sir; that's all.”
“But why; is there any special danger just now 7”
“The place is heavily garrisoned, they say,” answered the
farmer, “and they’re on the look out for an attack, so they’ve
got every point guarded close—pickets everywhere, and scouts
all over the country.”
“And that ain’t the worst of it, sir,” chimed in the old lady;
“there's that Nicklen that's in command there; they say he
murders every Confederate soldier he can capture, and every one
that shelters them. If he was to find out that you had been
there, your family would pay mighty dear for your visit, even if
you got away safe yourself.”
This was unexpected to the soldier, who had looked for dan-
ger to himself, but not to others. However, so confident was he
that he could elude the vigilance of the Federal pickets and
garrison, that after a few moment's consideration, he decided
to make the desperate attempt. Accordingly he signified this
determination to the farmer, who shook his head gravely, but
did all in his power to assist him on his journey. The two
left the house a little before sundown, and proceeding to the riv-
er, the farmer rowed the soldier to the opposite side, landing him
at a point some sixteen miles from Gallatin.
Capt. Guild was now in a country which he knew thoroughly,
and where he was acquainted, either actually or by reputation,
with every man of any standing in the community. Upon land-
466 Visiting Home Under Difficulties.
O
ing then, he decided to go to the house of a man whom he knew
to have been, in the the early days of the War, a strong sym-
pathizer with the South; to obtain from him the necessary in-
formation as to the position of the pickets, etc. The acquaint-
ance could not be denied by the man to whom he appealed for
help; but the citizen felt less for the South than he did for him-
self, and evaded all the inquiries of the soldier. Thus repulsed
in a quarter where he had not looked for such a reception, our
hero decided that his assumed character would be more likely to
be trusted, and that he would not again appear in propria per-
sona until he should reach his journey’s end. Accordingly he did
not betray his real name even to the father of one of his com-
rades, at whose house he endeavored to obtain the necessary in-
formation.
“Good evening, sir. Can you tell me if there is any Federal
command near here 7”
“There are Federal troops at Gallatin. Are you a soldier?”
“Yes, I got captured by some of Wheeler's men, but got away
from them; and now I’m anxious to reach our troops again. I
was afraid I’d have to go farther than Gallatin.”
“You will not, now, but I cannot tell you how long the Uni-
ted States troops will hold the place. They seem to be alarmed,
themselves.” .
“Prospect of active work, or do they seem to be preparing to
withdraw quietly 7”
“Well, they’re getting ready for an attack, I expect. They’re
strengthening the fortifications, and have drawn the pickets up
close to the town, and won’t let any one go in or out. But there
were some scouts just left here—if you could overtake them,
they could tell you a good deal more about it than I can.”
“How long a start have they got?” inquired the soldier, with
an interest that was not all pretended.
“About fifteen minutes. They’re on the way from Carthage
to Gallatin.”
“It will hardly be possible for me to overtake mounted men;
I wish I’d come up a little sooner. Can you tell me anything
about where the pickets are.”
The position of one post was described carefully
“One will do, thank you. You see, I just don’t want to go
prowling around between the posts so late at night. They might
take me for a spy. But knowing exactly where one picket post
Visiting Home Under Difficulties. 467
is, I can make directly for that, and give myself up without dań.
ger; and I’ll be restored to my own command, providing it is
still in Gallatin, as soon as the pickets are relieved.
“The scouts were not riding very fast. You may possibly
overtake them.”
“I wish I could. Well, I’ll try my best, anyhow. Good
evening.”
“Good evening.”
The soldier trudged on his way, but did not make any special
effort to overtake the scouts. On the contrary, he left the pike
at a point some five miles from his destination, and made his way
through grove and field in a direction parallel to that of the
road; his intimate knowledge of the country enabling him to do
this, as he thought, with entire safety. But so great was the
physical exhaustion resulting from six weeks spent almost con-
tinuously in the saddle, and the long tramp during the last few
hours, that, strange as it may seem, he lost his way in a country
with which he had been familiar since boyhood. Complete-
ly worn out, the mechanical exercise of walking was not suffi-
cient to keep his senses on the alert ; and three times he re-
turned to consciousness, only to find that he had wandered far
out of his way. As he made the circuit the last time, and re-
turned to a point on the pike four miles from Gallatin, he saw,
in the east, those faint gray streaks which foretell the approach
of dawn.
It would be certain death he knew, if he were found so near
the Federal camp. He was footsore and weary, but this thought
spurred him onward. The dangers of the highway were not
equal to those of the daylight, and fearful of again mistaking his
way, he struck out boldly for Gallatin along the pike; and day
had not yet broken when he came in sight of his father's house,
some three-quarters of a mile inside of the corporate limits.
But danger was not yet over, though he had so nearly reach-
ed his destination. The elevation that rose between his pre-
sent position and the town was crowned by a camp-fire. The
soldierly bearing of the forms that moved to and fro, darkly
outlined by the glare of the flame, showed that this was a pick-
et-fire. Thoroughly acquainted with the nature of the ground,
he knew that the vidette's stand must be near his father's gate,
and fearing that he might yet be obliged to run for his life, con-
cluded to lighten his load of weapons as much as was consistent
80
468 Visiting Home Under Difficulties.
with safety. Hiding one of his heavy army pistols in the corner
of the fence, he glided cautiously along the hedge to the farm-yard
fence. Peeping over, he saw that he had not been mistaken in
his judgment as to the placing of the videttes, for just at the
farm gate were two horsemen.
Fortunately for the Confederate, their horses’ heads were
turned away from the direction in which he was approaching,
and the men were lying upon their horses’ necks, to all appear-
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ance fast asleep. Stealing noiselessly across the pike, he slip-
ped past them unobserved, and was safe in the garden. A light
in the room of an invalid sister told him that some one was
watching with her, and divesting himself of his boots he crept
to a door sufficiently far away from the videttes, and knocked
softly. Into the house we will not follow him, leaving the fam-
ily reunion as a thing with which strangers have no business.
His brief stay at the house was not altogether tranquil. He
must remain in hiding from the servants, for the negroes were
notoriously friendly to the United States officials, and might
betray him; he could catch but brief glances of his little child,
for the two year old boy was old enough to talk, but too young
to be discreet. At one time, he looked out of the window of the








































Visiting Home Under Difficulties. 469
secluded room in which his mother had locked him, and saw the
yard beneath filled with blue-coated soldiery. Anxiously he ex-
amined the one pistol which he had retained, to make sure that
all the chambers were loaded ; expecting every moment to hear
the noise they would make in searching the house for the Rebel
whose presence there might have been made known to them.
But the clatter of horses’ hoofs along the hard road was soon
heard, and as he saw the blue uniforms becoming less distinct in
the darkness, he knew that his fears were, for this time at least,
groundless. He was told as soon as things were quiet enough
for any member of the family to venture near his room, that they
were in pursuit of an unlucky citizen from Wilson county, who
had gone into Gallatin upon some private business and did not
relish being impressed to work on the forts.
Night came on and he was as yet safe; but his feet were so
sore and swollen that he could not draw on his boots. Yet it
was necessary that he should leave that very night, for every
moment was one of danger both to him and to his family. By
wearing a pair of soft shoes he was able to hobble slowly and
painfully along. With these shoes in his hand, he stole noiselessly
from the house under cover of darkness and safely reached the
field where he had left his pistol. But the very obscurity which
had enabled him to pass the videttes unobserved rendered it im-
possible for him to find the weapon which he had so carefully
concealed among the high weeds in the fence corner. A long
search proved fruitless, and he at last determined to remain
where he was until the next night; as he did not wish to aban-
don his pistol, his exhaustion had not fully vanished, his feet
were so sore that it would be impossible for him to travel rapid-
ly; and above all, his presence here, if he were captured, could
not endanger his family as his presence in the house would have
done.
Here, then, in the high weeds and rank grass he lay all that last
night of August, 1864; and the first September sun was high in
the heavens when he awoke. All day long he lay there, listen-
ing as the enemy's wagons lumbered along the pike or even
came for forage into the field where he had concealed himself.
About two hundred yards away, as he learned after the War was
over, there was a camp of refugee negroes, to the number of five
or six hundred ; and as these went back and forth, he could hear
their voices all day long; and this at a time when every sound
470 Visiting Home Under Difficulties.
was alarming, as the merest accident might reveal his presence.
His haversack had been well filled before he left home, and
among other things, contained a bottle of wine. Between eating,
drinking, and reading the newspapers which were also in it, the
day passed, and having duly secured his pistol, he set out as soon
as darkness rendered his journey in any way safe. Reaching the
Hartsville pike, he determined not to leave the road for any rea-
son whatever, fearing that he might again be lost. A friend fer-
ried him over the river, setting him down at the house of the Mr.
Walton who had rowed him-across while on his way home. The
friendly farmer had sent for the negro servant and horse
which Capt. Guild had committed to the care of a comrade, and
had hidden them near his house, that they might be in readiness
for the soldier on his return.
“Did you hear of the Grissim boys' murder?” he asked.
“No,” answered the soldier, aghast at the words; and inquir-
ed for the particulars.
They were feelingly given by the old man, with many a word
of bitter denunciation for the men who had enlisted in the Con-
federate army, only to desert to the Federals; using their gray
uniforms as a decoy to those who had been their comrades, and
were now their victims. Nor was his picture of the general state
of the surrounding country a reassuring one. All of the Con-
federates had left the neighborhood; not a man remained; while
Yankee scouts were upon every road and by-path near. Not
daunted by the picture of danger (and, indeed, he saw no way
to avoid the perils thus indicated), the soldier, after resting
at the house of this friend during the day, set out at night to-
wards Lebanon, hoping there to find some friend who could in-
form him of the position of the Confederates.
His hopes were not to be disappointed, for he learned from
Col. Anderson’s sister that a portion of the Fourth Georgia had
gone towards Nashville late that afternoon. He rode on, and in
a short time reached Seawell Hill.
“Halt | Who goes there 7” challenged the picket.
“A friend.”
“Dismount, friend, advance and give the countersign.”
“I haven’t the countersign. My name is George Guild; I am
captain of company C, Fourth Tennessee Cavalry; I have been
home to Gallatin on a visit and am anxious to get back to my
regiment. You belong to Gen. Wheeler's command, don’t you?
Yisiting Home Under Difficulties. 471
“You’ll have to stay here until daylight Captain, anyhow.”
So the soldier and his servant slept on the vidette stand until
morning, when Capt. Guild made his presence known to the
colonel in command. But although he had thus safely reached a
portion of the Confederate army, his adventures in returning
from his brief visit home were not yet over. The Georgia regi-
ment continued its march the next day, and being overtaken by
Gen. Dibrell with some three or four hundred recruits, the en-
tire forced moved forward for some distance, and at night went
into camp on the turnpike near Readyville.
But if, in their camp protected by all the safeguards which a
general can employ, the tired soldiers slept soundly, they awoke
—“midst flame and smoke,
And shout, and groan, and Sabre stroke;”
for a force of some eleven hundred Yankees had literally caught
them napping, and came charging down the turnpike in the gray
of early morning, before the reveille had sounded in the Confed-
erate camp. They dashed down the road, their sabres gleaming
in the faint light as they cut down all who opposed them, and
rode onward without staying to see what resistance the Rebs
might offer. Capt. Guild and two companions, seeing that the
green troops could not be depended upon, and feeling sure that
no resistance would be made, quietly mounted and rode off in the
direction of Sparta, at which point nearly all of the command re-
ported the next day; very few having been killed or captured
in that strange attack en passant. Our Tennesseean was soon ena-
bled to make the journey from Sparta to Atlanta, where the main
army was then located, and thus ended a dangerous trip, under-
taken solely for the purpose of resting for one day under his fath-
er's roof, and seeing once again the faces of those dear to the sol-
dier.
ſhares LVII.
CAPTURED BY MOSBY.
Congratulations—Spencer Rifles—Congratulations Postponed—Col. Mosby — The
Auction—A Disgusted Darkey—Mosby's Defense of his Men — On to Rich-
mond — The Bivouac — T'lans for Escape — A Charming View — A Slim
Chance—Scarce of Horses—A. Successful Ruse—“Now’s the Time, Boys”—
A Sudden Melee—The Enemy Scattered—The Flight—Concealment—Why
Wash Went for the Corn — Why He Hurried Back — “Looking out for
Yanks”—Finding Them.
N the autumn of 1864, Capt. W. W. Badger, Inspector Gen-
eral of Cavalry in the Army of the Shenandoah, was order-
ed to accompany in person a certain train, numbering about a
thousand wagons, which was to convey supplies to Sheridan's
army. Springing into the saddle just as the sun arose, he gal-
loped away in the direction of the point where the train had
been parked, nine miles away. It was a bright, crisp morning,
and the keen air that blew over the icy Shenandoah was invig-
orating to both men and horses. Accompanied by his orderly
and a colored servant, he made good time, and in an hour from
the time of starting was in sight of the train, just leaving the lit-
tle village of Newtown.
“You see, Wash,” said he, turning to the darkey, who bore
the name of the Father of his Country; “you see, the guerillas
are not as thick as you thought they were. Mosby hasn’t caught
us, after all your fears of it.”
“Dat am a fac’, sah,” gravely responded Wash; “Cunnel Mos-
by ain’t cotched us yet.” -
“And he's not likely to, either,” added the officer, with a
laugh, as he slackened his horse's speed.
They had now reached the town, and riding leisurely through
the streets, were struck by the number of women who seemed
472
Captured by Mosby. 473
to be looking out of the windows. As he passed, two or three
waved their handkerchiefs at him, and gallantly making his
best bow, with his sweetest smile, the handsome captain blush-
ed with pleasure at the sensation he appeared to be making.
Perhaps the keen air of the morning was becoming more genial
with the rays of the sun ; perhaps his trusty steed needed a lit-
tle rest; certain it is that he did not ride very rapidly through
the village. But every town is passed through if the cavalier
does not stop, though he ride ever so leisurely; and at last they
had reached a small grocery store just on the border of the vil-
lage.
In this store were a few men, evidently a part of the rear-
guard, whose caps, embroidered with a Greek cross, proclaimed
them to be members of the Sixth Corps. They wore no sabres,
but were armed with revolvers and Spencer repeating rifles,
then recently adopted by the United States, and not in use in
the Confederate army. They were evidently in charge of a non-
commissioned officer, and as he made his appearance, the stripes
on the sleeve of his blue blouse showed him to be a sergeant.
He respectfully saluted Capt. Badger, whom he evidently rec-
ognized.
“The train is some distance ahead of you, sergeant,” said the
latter, returning the salute; “you had better close up, for this
is one of Mosby's favorite beats.”
“All right, sir,” answered the sergeant, with a slight smile.
Captain Badger rode on, and the sergeant, nodding to his men,
who had heard the warning, sprang upon his horse, and, with
his party, followed the officer's small party. There was, evi-
dently, plenty of straggling from the rearguard of the train, for
three other soldiers were riding just ahead of them.
Wash, who had been riding a respectful distance behind his
master, happened to overhear something that had been said by
one of the sergeant's squad, and urged his horse onward until
he was at the officer's side.
“Marse Cap'n, dey’s Secesh, shuah ; run like a blacksnake war
after you.”
Turning his head, Captain Badger saw that the warning was
only too true. The six Spencers that had, more than their blue
uniforms, prevented his entertaining any suspicion, were level-
ed at him ; they having seen that the negro had discovered their
true character. The sergeant, with drawn revolver, spurred his
474 Captured by Mosby.
horse on, and called to the surprised Federal, authoritatively:
“IIalt—surrender l’’
There was no mistaking the meaning of the summons, and the
odds would be too much against him in any attempt to escape.
The wagon train could not be half a mile distant, he knew, but
it was obscured from view by an intervening hill. In order to
measure the chances of getting out of their clutches, he turned
and took a rapid survey of the scene. High stone walls lined
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the road on either side ; in front, lay a creek, bridged, to be sure,
but that bridge was held by the three supposed stragglers that he
had observed in front of him, and their rifles were leveled at
him. His horse was an excellent one, but nine rifles and a re-
volver—
“Will you surrender 7” came in a still sharper tone, and the
very muzzle of the revolver was pressed against his temple.
“I am your prisoner, sir,” he replied to this summons, having
concluded to consider the chances of escape at some future time,
when gunpowder should not make so large a factor. His sword
and revolvers were taken in charge by the supposed sergeant,
who now introduced himself as Lieut. Whiting, of the C. S. A.
“We closed up as ordered, Captain ; I trust it was done prop-
erly. I suppose discipline must be unusually good on the favor-
ite beats of Mosby.”


































Captured by Mosby. 475
“Well,” was the reply, “you’ve sneaked on me like spies, in a
uniform to which you have no right; but maybe my turn will
come to-morrow.”
“Your turn for what—to be hanged 7” he asked, compressing
his lips at the imputation of cowardice conveyed in the Feder-
al’s tone; then continued, good-naturedly, “you see, we lay in
ambush watching for stragglers, and saw you coming up. You
were nobler game, and we hurried to get from the woods to the
grocery just in time to seem like what you took us for—Strag-
glers from the rearguard.”
“Do you belong to Mosby's men, or to some other command 7”
“To Mosby's, sir. Just turn here; we'll go along this creek—
there's a fair road all the way—to report to the colonel, who is
about three miles away.”
“I suppose there is no doubt about the treatment I shall re-
ceive at your commander's hand 7”
“I suppose not, sir, though you hardly understand that as I do.”
“What do you mean 7” ſº
“You see, some of our men were hanged as guerillas, at Front
Royal, the other day, and Col. Mosby has threatened to retal-
iate upon the first officer that falls into his hands, and as you
are the only one captured since, why—” -
A significant pause followed, unbroken by either of the offi-
cers for the remainder of the little journey. The soldiers follow-
ing seemed to be in high glee over their capture of the officer,
evidently not in the least underrating his importance. Turning
from the path after a few minutes, they found themselves in the
presence of about a hundred men, clad indifferently in blue and
butternut, but all, evidently, owing allegiance to one who stood
a little apart from them. This was the famous John S. Mosby,
the Virginian partisan.
The prisoner's papers had been taken from him, and were
now handed to the officer in command. Looking up as a curso-
ry examination revealed the identity of the owner, he said in a
voice that expressed not a little satisfaction -
“Ah, Captain Badger, Inspector General of Sheridan's Caval-
ry, I perceive. Good morning, sir; I am very glad to see you;
in fact, there’s only one man I’d rather see here, and that’s your
commander. I suppose you know that some of my men were
hanged at Front Royal the other day.”
“I knew of it, sir, and protested against the setting of such an
476 Captured by Mosby.
example — one so suggestive of retaliation by the enemy.”
“Hum ! Were you present?” - -
“I was ; and regretted very much that it was the men who
were to be hanged, and not the commander.”
A grim smile curved the yellow-brown moustache of the Con-
federate, as he turned to Lieut. Whiting with the brief order:
“Search him.” - -
In accordance with the usual practice, his valuables, and even
his boots, were divided
among the men in a fixed
proportion; the various
articles being put up at
auction to determine the
value which should be
set upon them
“Let’s raffle the nig-
ger,” suggested one.
“All right,” responded
a chorus of voices; “How
much 7”
“I reckon about two
thousand,” answered an-
other, scanning him criti-
cally.
Confederate money, which had then greatly depreciated, was
of course the standard ; and as the boots had sold for six hun-
dred and fifty, and the watch for three thousand, this was an ex-
tremely low estimate. It caused great indignation in the breast
of the person most nearly concerned.
“I’se none of yo’r good-fur-nuffin’ niggers, gemmen; I'se
wuff a heap mo’ dan two thousand dollars in yo’ blue-back
money; I’se wuff dat much in greenbacks or gold. I kin make
de bes' milk punch in de country, ef you all jest had de tings to
make it out of, gemmen.”
There was a general laugh at his appreciation of their pover-
ty; but a negro in attendance on Mosby grew as indignant at
the insinuation as Wash had been at the low estimate of his
value.
“You jest shet up, you fool nigger; we’se got lots of good
liquor; jest take a drink now, and see efit ain’t fust-class.”
“No, tank you, sah; I prefeh not to, sah,” answered Wash,
Col. John S. Mosby.

Captured by Mosby. 477
with dignity and courtesy happily blended in his manner.
“Why don’t you drink with him 7” inquired Captain Badger,
in an undertone. -
“I don’ want to drink wid dat nigger, sah; too much freeder
breeds despise, sah.”
Taking his prisoner to one side, after these matters had been
concluded, Col. Mosby handed back to him some articles pre-
sumably valuable from association, but not intrinsically so;
among other things a small Masonic pin. With the mystic sign
which revealed him to be a member of the brotherhood, he said
quietly:
“You had better keep that ; it may be of service to you among
my men. You and your people are mistaken in thinking them
guerillas. They are regularly enlisted men in the Confederate
army, but selected from the various commands as peculiarly fit-
ted for this kind of service. We plunder the enemy, of course;
the rules of war allow it; but we do not go beyond the rules.
If we hang prisoners, it is simply in retaliation for similar treat-
ment of our men. I hanged eight men on the Valley Pike yes-
terday in retaliation for those of mine executed at Front Royal.
I can hang two for one as long as you are disposed to keep up
the game; but I have written to Gen. Sheridan, asking him to
agree in stopping such barbarities. I can assure you, sir, it is
no more agreeable to me than to any other soldier. I sincerely
hope he will assent to it.”
Captain Badger made a suitable answer to this speech, being
quite won over to the belief by the quiet earnestness of the
Confederate; and the partisan turned away to give orders re-
garding the march. It was “On to Richmond,” and with the
memory of all the traditions of Libby that he had ever heard re-
peating themselves in his ears, the prisoner fell into the place
in the column which the captor designated. Nine other Feder-
al soldiers, besides himself and his orderly, had been captured
by various parties detailed from the main body of the com-
mand ; and these eleven men were now to be dispatched to Rich-
mond under a guard of fifteen. Lieut. Whiting was in command,
and Mosby himself rode with the column for some distance.
Among the prisoners were two who from this time assume some
importance in the story: McCauley, or “Mack,” a smooth-faced
boy of eighteen, whose features were of almost feminine delica-
cy, and Brown, one of Blaser's scouts. Capt. Badger endeavored
> ¥
> * > -
t } $ º
478 Captured by Mosby.
to gain the confidence of all the men, in order that by co-opera-
tion they might have a better chance of escape; and found that
while all were generally reliable, these two, at least, could be
depended upon in any emergency; they were ready to risk their
lives if half a chance of liberty presented itself.
Marching rapidly onward, they bivouacked for the night in a
deserted school-house, which had been prepared for the recep-
tion of such as they were. Three men were detailed as relief
guard for the entry at the door, all other openings having stout
planks securely nailed over them; the remainder, having stood
their carbines by a low school desk which ran along one wall,
and laid their revolvers upon the same support, were placed
side by side upon the floor, with their heads just beneath this
desk; the prisoners were similarly ranged on the other side of
the room, the feet of the two rows of sleepers nearly meeting on
the central line of the floor. The room was dimly lighted by a
fire before the door. *
Captain Badger had taken care to place himself between
Brown and Mack, and warned by him, they kept wide awake;
indeed, with them as with the other prisoners, the dread of Lib-
by was so great that it overpowered all desire for slumber. Not
so with the guard. “Weariness can snore upon the flint,” and
they were veterans enough to find a pine floor a comfortable
bed. They were soon snoring, while the sentinel dozed over
his pipe.
“Are you awake, Mack 7”
“Very much so, thank you, sir.”
“And you, Brown 7”
“Couldn’t sleep if I tried.”
“Have you thought of any plan of escape 7”
“I think I know a good one, Captain,” answered Mack, after a
moment's hesitation; “see where their arms are? Now if we
could all of us make one grand rush we’d get them, every carbine
and pistol of 'em and then I guess we could stampede the guard
and get away.” *
“It’s pretty risky,” murmured the captain, doubtfully.
“Any plan is bound to be risky, sir,” urged the proposer of
this.
“Well, pass the whisper along the line, and see if the men are
willing to try it.”
After a few minutes' delay, the two were ready to report
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Captured by Mosby. 479
the result, which was not very encouraging to the daring spirits.
“There ain’t but two men on this side,” said Brown.
“And only one on this,” added Mack, with as much disgust in
his voice as its whispering tone would permit.
“Well, it’s such a risky thing anyhow,” decided the officer,
“but if they don’t come into it willingly we can’t urge it on
them.”
Silence reigned once more supreme among the prisoners, and
still the guard snored on.
“Tell you what, Captain, I know how to do it now,” said
Mack, excitedly, after a few moment’s thought.
“Sh ! Be careful,” cautioned the officer ; “they might hear us
talking and suspect something. But what is the new plan 7”
“Do you think the men would use the arms if they once had
them 7”
“O yes; I don’t think they are fools or cowards either.”
“Well, I’ll creep over and get them every one.”
“A single noise or a false step would betray you.”
“I know it.”
“The chances are a thousand to one against you.”
“But there is one.”
“I am not sure of that. The result of discovery would be in-
stant death for you ’’—
“I know it.”
“Perhaps for all of us. I don’t believe it can be done. You
must not risk it.”
“I’d like the best in the world to go, Captain, and I believe I
could do it, but”—
“You must not, my boy. It is impossible for man to accom-
plish such a thing. I should do very wrong to allow you to do
it. Let us go to sleep now, so that if an opportunity for escape
occurs to-morrow we may be fresh and well-prepared.”
So at last they slept, and the long hours of the night passed
slowly away. The next morning was wet and gloomy, and the
column, setting out early on the march, presented anything but
a cheerful appearance. Their road wound around the mountain
side, and as they reached a point about one-third of the distance
from the summit, Col. Mosby called Capt. Badger's attention
to the view. tº
“You see it’s as good as a map of the country,” he said. “This
is a favorite promenade of mine. I like to see the forces which
480 Captured by Mosby.
your people send out after me almost daily. There’s one of
them now.” -
“A part of my own regiment?” exclaimed his unwilling guest,
as he recognized the familiar badges and the various particulars
by which the accoutrements of different regiments are distin-
guished.
“Is it, indeed 7” asked the Confederate, with a slight smile;
“then let me advise you to take a good look at them, for they’re
the last of their kind you’ll be likely to see for some time to
come.” te.
They paused for some time at this spot, Col. Mosby seeming
to find great satisfaction in looking at the force of Federals which
moved along beneath not more than half a mile away; mov-
ing onward, they reached the road running through Manassas
Gap, a short time before noon, and here the colonel left them,
saying, as he bade them good-bye:
“I reckon all your chances of escape or rescue are about gone,
now, Captain; you’re some distance inside of our lines.”
Passing Chester Gap, descending into the valley and moving
toward Sperryville, on the road to Richmond, their guard was
reduced to three men, still commanded by Lieut. Whiting. But
this diminution of the guard did not increase their chances of
escape, for, as Mosby had told them, they were far within the Con-
federate lines; they had only a general knowledge of the coun-
try ; they could not depend upon meeting any but enemies; and
each man of the escort was provided with a double supply of
arms, while they were entirely without weapons.
The eleven prisoners were now provided with seven horses, so
that four of them must walk ; and in order that each man might
have his turn, there were frequent halts to enable them to dis-
mount and change places. To the saddle of the pack-horse which
carried their provisions and blankets, two extra carbines had
been strapped, muzzle downward, and fastened to each were all
the necessary accoutrements. To gain possession of these car-
bines might be a step towards liberty, and Capt. Badger racked
his brains to think how it might be done. Could it be accomplish-
ed while they where changing horses? Hardly, for then, of
course, the guards were always especially alert. -
“Do you see those carbines, Mack 7” he asked, as in the confu-
sion of the men's changing places he found opportunity.
“On the pack-horse? Yes, sir,” answered Mack, with a long-
Captured by Mosby. 481
ing gaze at them, and thinking again of Libby Prison.
There was one horse among the seven that was hardly worthy
of the name, so thin and broken down was he ; of course, no one
wished to ride this, and when Mack chanced to be assigned to it
there was no one to dispute possession. We say chanced, though
in fact he had, by his apparent modesty in standing back until
most of the others were mounted, endeavored to effect this very
arrangement. They had proceeded but a little way when the ani-
mal was perceived to be lame. With many expressions of concern,
Mack dismounted, and marching back through the rain which was
now falling in torrents, asked the officer in command:
“May I ride the pack-horse, sir? The one that they gave me
seems to be badly lamed.”
The lieutenant looked at the boy, but he appeared so innocent,
and his tone was so frank and engaging, that suspicion never
once entered his mind ; and the desired permission was given.
Captain Badger was so kind as to assist his fellow-prisoner in
arranging the packs so as to allow room for a comfortable seat
on the horse; a matter to which the guards paid little attention;
their whole time being occupied in keeping themselves and the
accoutrements as dry as the torrents of rain would permit.
Mack was covered by a huge poncho, which, as he sat on the
horse, covered the packs as well ; completely concealing the
carbines from view.
The prisoners formed the center of the column, the three Con-
federates riding in front and on their left, while Lieut. Whiting
acted as rearguard. Usually, Capt. Badger rode beside the lat-
ter, but they were now so far within the Southern lines that dis-
cipline was considerably relaxed, and the prisoners were allow-
ed much more liberty of action than would have been safe un-
der other circumstances, even with a larger guard. It excited
no wonder, then, when Capt. Badger rode across to Brown, and,
dismounting, asked him to tighten the girth. Brown complied,
and as he was at work, Capt. Badger said to him, in a tone too
low to allow any one else to distinguish the words:
“Mack has possession of two carbines; get up by his side and
communicate with him. I will give the signal—the words,
‘Now’s the time, boys'—-then seize one of the carbines and do
your duty as a soldier if you value your liberty. Tell him what
the signal is to be.”
They rode quietly on for some time, the prisoners chatting
482 Captured by Mosby.
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Captured by Mosby. 483
with each other and with the guard ; but the general conversa-
tion came to an end when Capt. Badger began a spirited account
of the charge of Sheridan's army at Winchester. Night was
drawing on, and the shade of the willow trees which here over-
hung the road added an additional gloom to the thoughts of the
men there present, now captives, but then animated by all the
fury of the battle. Yet they almost forgot themselves and their
present condition as they recalled that day of which the officer
was now drawing a vivid picture in words.
“Just at that moment,” he went on, “he waved his sword un-
til it flashed like lightning in the sunshine, and with the shout,
‘Now’s the time, boys I’”—
The speaker threw himself upon the Confederate officer, and
grasping him in a close embrace, endeavored to obtain his re-
volver. This once effected, the lieutenant might be compelled
to act as guide for them until they were safely out of the Con-
federate lines. Mack had shot two of the guards, and now turn-
ed to see the desperate struggle going on between the two offi-
cers; for a moment he hesitated, for there was considerable
danger of hitting the wrong man if he fired ; but as they wres-
tled with each other, the face of the Southerner was turned to-
ward him a moment, clearly seen over his antagonist's shoulder;
and raising the carbine for a third time, he took aim and fired.
The bullet took effect between the eyes, and as it crashed
through the skull into the brain, the Confederate fell heavily
forward into the arms of whose embrace he had so desperately
• resisted—dead.
Brown had done less execution; practiced scout as he was,
and used to such emergencies, as might be supposed, this seem-
ed to be a more startling one than he had ever experienced or
was prepared for. He had indeed fired one shot, but being
somewhat nervous, had only wounded the third guard, who rode
off at full speed, firing his pistol as he went, to alarm the coun-
try. This, of course, made their situation doubly dangerous;
the country would be alarmed in an hour, and men perfectly ac-
quainted with every feature of it dispatched in search of them;
they knew only the general outlines of the district in which
they were ; the enemy’s camps could not be far off, for they had
already passed one line of pickets, and might, at any step in their
course, be challenged by others. They were well armed with two
carbines that had been on the pack-horse, and those belonging
31
484 Captured by Mosby.
to the Confederates that had been killed ; as well as with the re-
volvers of the three; but their number had dwindled as soon as
the first shot had been fired, and now there remained only Cap-
tain Badger, Mack, Brown, and one other soldier, and Wash;
the others had already scattered over the country, to escape to
his friends, each man as he could.
Mounting the best horses, they immediately struck out for the
mountain on their right; but concluding that this would be
the most dangerous, because the most natural course to take,
they soon turned their horses’ heads directly to the south, and
rode straight into the heart of the enemy’s country. The fear
of recapture, which meant certain death, urged them on, and
though it was already the middle of the afternoon when they re-
gained their freedom, they accomplished a distance of thirty
miles before the twilight had finally faded.
Turning sharply to the right as soon as darkness favored their
flight, they urged their almost exhausted horses up the moun-
tains; but at last, wearied out by the long journey made at such
a rapid pace, the poor beasts could no longer climb the steep
hill. Abandoning them to the tender mercies of whoever should
find them, the riders continued the ascent on foot, breaking
twigs from the trees as they went, so that there would be no
danger of returning by the same route. Just as daylight was
breaking over the valley, they reached the top of the mountain,
whence they could see the Confederate position, as the day be-
fore they had seen that of their friends.
Creeping into a friendly thicket, they endeavored to wait pa-
tiently until darkness should enable them to continue their
flight. On a barren mountain in an enemy’s country, without
food or water, their minds filled with anxiety as to their im-
pending fate, we cannot wonder that the day dragged wearily
on. For days they remained in this hiding-place, for when dark-
ness came it only made visible the innumerable camp-fires which
dotted the sides of the mountain ; while daylight showed party
after party of Confederate scouts seeking for the escaped pris-
OIn 621°S. -
Hungry men are not over dainty, and when two days had
passed since they had tasted food, a little dog that had strayed
into their hidden camp fell a victim to their necessity. But it
was by no means enough to satisfy their appetites, and as time
went on, and no other food was obtainable, they grew desper-
Captured by Mosby. 485
ate. Some one must venture out for food, or they must starve.
“There’s a corn-field down the road,” suggested one ; “Wash,
won’t you go and get us some corn ?”
“No, sah.”
“I’d go myself, only it would be suicide. They’d not suspect
you, Wash, as anything but one of their own servants.”
But Wash remained obdurate; he had no notion of running
such a risk alone; it would have been different if there had been
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“Did any of you ever eat any negro 2°
a soldier with him, but, as had been said, that would have meant
the sacrifice of all their hopes. A pause followed the darkey’s
refusal, broken, after a lapse of some time, by Mack:
“Did any of you ever eat any negro 7”
Wash’s eyes were all whites.
“Don’t know as I ever did,” answered Brown, taking the cue ;
“is it good eating 7”
“First-rate, if it’s not too fat.”
This with a significant glance at Wash, who was as lean as a
herring.
“I’m awful hungry,” announced Brown, as if it were news.
“So am I; in fact, I guess we all are. We can’t get at that
















486 Captured by Mosby.
corn, and I guess it’ll have to end in our feeding on some”—
Mack bent over and whispered something to Brown, keeping
his eyes fixed hungrily on Wash. The latter shifted his posi-
tion several times, turning his eyes uneasily from one to the
other; but all felt that it was necessary to compel him, by some
means or other, to go to the corn-field, and they drew together,
occasionally, with mysterious whispers and meaning looks. At
last the poor fellow could stand it no longer, and out came
the words,
“I reckon I kin git dat cawn, mebbe.”
He started down the mountain-side, alone. No words can tell
the terror which thrilled his every nerve as he groped his way
through the darkness; but worse than being caught by the Con-
federates, worse than being pursued by the ghosts and witches
which might reasonably be supposed to be abroad in that lonely
place, at that hour of the night, was the dread of being killed
and eaten—yes, cooked and eaten—by the hungry Federals
above. At last the corn-field was reached; behind any of those
tall stalks there might be a Confederate or a ghost—equally
probable and equally terrible suppositions; any one of those
broad yellow blades, rustling in the breeze, might be a sword;
but the necessity of the case permitted no delay; hastily gath-
ering an arm load of the ripened ears, he almost flew up the
steep ascent.
“Why, Wash, you came back in a hurry.”
“Knowed you all was hungry, Massa Cap'n.”
The explanation was permitted to go unchallenged, as they
revelled in the bliss of three ears of corn apiece.
But this state of affairs could not last long. Before their
strength was exhausted, they must make a greater effort to gain
the Federal lines; so, going still farther south, they finally
abandoned the mountains altogether; and having ſlanked Ear-
ly’s army, they came upon the Shenandoah, twenty miles south
of his position. Here, living in the woods upon such roots as
they could find and the little game that could be trapped (for
they dared not fire a shot), they built a rude raft, launched it,
and in one night floated forty miles down the river. But this
was too dangerous a mode of traveling for the daytime, so they
took to the land again. Having provided themselves with
horses from various sources, they passed themselves off, on more
than one party of Confederates, as disguised scouts “looking out
Captured by Mosby. 487
for Yankees which were reported to be abroad in the country.”
Their account of the occupation in which they were engaged
was a most truthful one, although the interviewers did not see it
in exactly the right light; believing rather in the “disguise”
which was their proper dress. Hence they were permitted to
go on their way unquestioned, and finally found the Yankees
they were seeking; arriving safely, though footsore and hungry,
at the Federal lines; the officer, at least, resolved never again
to trust a blue uniform or a Spencer carbine unless he knew the
owner by some other token.
£Harles IVIII.
ARRESTING A. SMUGGLER.
Reasons for the Trade—The Efforts of the Police — The Military Authorities—
Going it. Alone—A Green Soldier—A Surly Sailor—A Fine Boat—The Ar-
rest—A Combat of Will—He Concludes to Surrender—The Lumber Yard—
Completely Vanquished.
66 A LL’S fair in love and war” is an old saying, often quoted
by those who adopted means generally considered ex-
tremely unfair. At no time is such a maxim repeated more fre-
quently than during civil war, when many things combine to al-
low of much deception on either side. During our “late on pleas-
antness,” such battling of wits formed no trifling part of the con-
test. To say nothing of the exploits of scouts and spies, there
were many instances. If the Southern ports were blockaded,
adventurous spirits took delight in eluding the vigilance of the
Northern vessels; and on land, many persons of fair standing in
time of peace engaged in the work of smuggling medicines and
other necessities for the use of the Confederate Army. Others
again, went into the business simply for the sake of the enormous
profits that were to be made in selling goods which were so hard
to obtain.
Of course, since it was the policy of the United States, as of
every belligerent power, to cut off the Confederacy from all such
supplies from without, a strict watch was kept all along the bor-
der, to make sure that no such contraband trade was carried on.
In states which remained in the Union, but which, like Mary-
land, Kentucky and Missouri, had many strong Secessionist peo-
ple, there was of course greater danger than in those whose loy-
alty was unquestionable; and in the three mentioned, the Fed-
eral authorities never relaxed their vigilance.
488
Arresting a Smuggler. 489
Though, in spite of their untiring watchfulness, the work went
on to no small extent, the offenders were often informed on by
men whom they had trusted ; and often, a piece of carelessness
arising from long security would excite suspicion and lead to
discovery. It was probably by the first means that the author-
ities of the city of Baltimore obtained information of a gang of
smugglers that, in the fall of 1864, were engaged in conveying
provisions and other supplies from that point to the South ; as
the chief was very minutely described to them. The municipal
officials were further told that while this man was desperate in
courage, his associates were by no means so determined ; and
that his capture would, in all probability, break up the gang as
effectually as if all were taken.
Desiring to show the soldiers stationed in the city what the
majesty of the law, unaided by the bayonet, could accomplish, the
Chief of Police selected four of the best men on the force, and him-
self instructed them to look for the man answering to the descrip-
tion, and to capture him, dead or alive. Armed to the teeth,
they set out; their revolvers were loaded when they went; and
when they returned, not a chamber had been emptied; for the
smuggler had been so long identified with the criminal classes
that he probably knew the face of every man on the police force.
Again and again the attempt was made, but with no better re-
sult than at first; and the Chief of Police concluded that the
majesty of the law must content itself with punishing the pris-
oner after he had been caught.
The matter was accordingly handed over to the military au-
thorities; and a certain young officer, whose daring courage had
been often manifested, was summoned to the office of the provost-
marshal.
“Sergeant F , there have been extensive frauds practiced
upon the Government by a gang of smugglers this fall; and the
leader must be captured. This is the written description hand-
ed me by the civil authorities. Study it well to-night, and be
ready to-morrow morning to start out to capture him. How
many men do you want to help you?”
“I’ll try it alone, sir, if you will allow it. When shall I re-
port again 7”
“Not until you have taken the smuggler, dead or alive,” re-
turned the superior, decisively. “Here are your written orders,
with the description.”
490 Arresting a Smuggler.
The sergeant returned to his quarters to perform the first part
of the task assigned him ; and having made himself well ac-
quainted with the pen-picture of the man he was to look for,
sallied out, early the next morning, on the quest. Though he was
in uniform, and carried the usual side-arms, no one would have
thought him bound on an important errand, so carelessly did he
saunter along. He seemed to be perfectly unacquainted with the
city, and not thoroughly used to the glory of a uniform ; while
frequently he viewed the yellow bars on his sleeve with no small
satisfaction. All this was done to impress the men on the wharf
with the idea that he was but a recent acquisition to the United
States Army, and was not at all familiar with the city of Baltimore.
Of course, the curiosity with which he scanned the vessels there
moored was in strict keeping with the character which he had
assumed, and no one imagined the real reason why he looked so
closely at the boats.
IIe had gone so far along the wharf without seeing the object
for which he was looking that he feared he must make up his
mind to return a baffled report. The smuggler evidently was
not in port that day, and he would have to wait at least twenty-
four hours. But just as he arrived at this conclusion, he saw, a
short distance from him, a small vessel, on board of which was
a large, muscular looking man who answered exactly to his de-
scription. Strolling leisurely along, the soldier looked critical-
ly at the boat, as any man, interested in such things, might look
at any vessel. So natural was his manner that the alarm of the
smuggler was not aroused ; although, from the nature of his bus-
iness, he was always on the outlook for an enemy. The soldier,
as he approached, gave a friendly nod as he caught the smug-
gler's eye, and called out to him:
“Fine morning, sir.”
“Good enough,” growled the sailor, so gruffly that the words
hardly reached the soldier's ear.
“What did you say, sir?” asked the latter, stopping short, di-
rectly opposite the boat.
“I said it was good enough weather,” returned the other, with
no more good humor than before.
“Don’t know as I ever saw finer fall weather,” continued the
soldier, looking around him, but mentally comparing the sailor
with the description of the smuggler.
“Humph I’’ grunted the other.
Arresting a Smuggler. 491
“That's a fine boat, isn’t she? she must be worth a pile.”
“Yes,” assented the sailor, frowning at the speaker. But the
soldier's admiration of the boat was so genuine that any lurking
suspicion was half disarmed. As Sergeant F examined the
boat, the eyes under the darkly over hanging brows watched him
closely ; and though, when he stepped on board he was not or-
dered to stay on the wharf, they still followed every step. The
soldier was by this time thoroughly convinced that the man before
him was the one he had been commissioned to capture, and he
was determined to execute his orders at once. But a personal
struggle with that muscular frame would not be likely to result
in any good to the soldier's slighter form; and he determined
to try strategy where force was impossible.
“There’s a sight of vessels out to-day, isn’t there?”
“Don’t know as there is.” -
“The wharf is black with wagons and men and horses. Ain’t
business any brisker than usual to-day 7”
“No brisker nor no duller than usual,” returned the man ad-
dressed, with a shade of contempt for the poor greenhorn who
was so impressed by the usual amount of traffic.
“That’s a queer looking craft yonder—that black one, that the
tug has in tow.”
As the sergeant expected, the smuggler, R , turned his
head in the direction in which F had pointed. Quick as
lightning the soldier had drawn and aimed his pistol.
“That there's a coal”—
“You are my prisoner—surrender, or I fire.”
R— drew back, and, with an oath, reached for his own
revolver.
“Don’t you dare to draw, sir.”
“Who in the devil are you, anyhow,” demanded the smuggler,
hoping to brazen it out. -
“I am an agent of the United States Government, with writ-
ten orders to take you, dead or alive. I intend to execute them.”
“What are you to arrest me for 7”
“You know very well.”
The smuggler saw that his first plan had failed, and fell back
on a sort of bravado. " -
“I’ll not be taken alive,” he hissed out from between his teeth,
as, clenching his fists angrily, he made one step forward.
“Stand back—don't advance another step. Will you surrender
492 Arresting a Smuggler.
and come with me peaceably, or must I shoot you down?”
“No, I won't.”
“All right, then. I’ve told you what my orders were.”
The smuggler answered not a word, and the soldier waited a
moment, trusting that he would decide to surrender. So they
stood, the stronger man seemingly fascinated by the steady gaze
of the other, as it is said a lion is controlled by the power of the
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human eye. As the soldier saw that there was no sign of submis-
sion, he was about to pull the trigger when a large freight wag-
on rumbled by on the wharf.
“Hello, driver, back that wagon up here,” he shouted.
4. What for 7”
“Do as I tell you, or you’ll be the second. Now, are you go-
ing to surrender and go with me?” This last to the smuggler.
{{ What if I don’t 7”
“That wagon is ready to take your body to the provost-mar-
shal’s.”
“Great Scott P. exclaimed the driver; “what are you going
to shoot him, for 7”
“Those are my orders. Once more, will you come 7”
There was a warning click and a readjustment of aim which
gave a dreadful emphasis to the question. Human flesh and
Jº





















Arresting a Smuggler. 493
blood could stand it no longer — the strain was too great.
“Well, I guess I’ll have to ” came reluctantly from the smug-
gler.
“Hand over your arms.”
“D—n me for a fool, I ain’t got any about me. Do you think
I’d' a' given up that way if I’d had my pistols here 7”
It was a literal fact. Rendered careless by the perfect impun-
ity with which, for months, he had pursued his contraband trade,
he had left his pistol-belt, with the weapons, in the little cabin
of the vessel. Having satisfied himself that this was so, Ser-
geant F gave the order:
“You go ahead; I'll follow.”
By this means he was able to see the slightest movement
looking towards escape; while a word now and then directed
the prisoner what course to take. But before they set out, the
soldier, knowing the great strength of the man, had handcuffed
him; and thus marked as a criminal, he could hardly hope to
escape while passing through the streets. Still the soldier wished
to shorten the way as much as possible, and for that purpose or-
dered the prisoner to cut across a large lumber yard; a route by
which they could save nearly two blocks.
The lumber was in huge piles, separated by narrow alleys.
It seems strange that the sergeant should not have preferred to
make a circuit, rather than pass through this place, which, from
its arrangement and seclusion, offered admirable opportunities
for escape; but he trusted to his own vigilance and activity. The
prisoner had been on the alert ever since his surrender, watching
for a chance to give his captor the slip. The fact that the soldier
had put up his revolver seemed encouraging; he could perhaps
be out of sight before it could be drawn and aimed. The place
through which they were now passing would enable him to twist
and turn so that no aim could be taken. Stronger and stronger
grew the wish for liberty; and at last, as they got to the middle
of the yard, equally distant from the street on either front, he
darted suddenly around the end of a large pile of boards, and
into a narrow passage.
The movement was as quick as thought; and had the sergeant
been a heavy man, he might have been unable to follow rapidly
enough to do any good; as the hare, in doubling, gains on the
hounds. But in this case, it was the hare in pursuit of the
hounds, and the soldier followed close upon the heels of the
494 Arresting a Smuggler.
smuggler. His sabre flashed in the sunshine as he drew it from
the scabbard and raised it for the blow. It descended heavily,
suddenly, upon the smuggler's head; and stunned by the force
of the blow, the prisoner fell to the ground.
Bending over him, the sergeant found that the cut, on the side
of the head, was severe, but not dangerous. He bound it up care-
fully with his handkerchief, and helped the man to his feet. So
they went on, though but slowly now, to the provost-marshal's
office, the wounded man making no further attempt to escape.
R— was duly delivered into the custody of the provost-mar-
shal, thence to the civil authorities. Arraigned before the courts,
he was tried for violation of the revenue laws, having extended
his trips southward to the West Indies after having got his
goods to a Southern port; and returned to the United States
with a cargo of foreign goods on which he systematically evad-
ed the duties. He was found guilty and sentenced to a term in
the penitentiary. Of course, the offense of supplying goods to
the Confederates could not be proven, as the witnesses were
in the seceded States.
£Harles LIX
TWO OF THE BLACEO HORSE CAVALRY.
Organization of the Corps—Circumstances of One Adventure—The Price of Liq-
uor—Honor Pledged—“As Easy as Lying ”—A Part of the Price—The Rest
of It—An Important Prisoner—Gen. Stuart's Gallantry Tested—He Sees the
Joke—The Corps Disbanded.
tºº HEN the probability of a war between the states was
V V still a point upon which men held different opinions, an
officer of the United States Army organized a military body
that was destined, in a few years, to become famous as the Black
Horse Cavalry. For a time it seemed to be merely an organi-
zation designed to gratify the passion, then so common, for uni-
forms and military drill ; and it was not until April, 1861, near-
ly two years from the time that they were first set in line, that
they were employed in any work other than police duty in keep-
ing order or preventing a popular riot.
But it is not our object to trace the history of this well-known
corps. Composed of the flower of Virginian manhood, and num-
bering, in the names composing the roll, more than one since
made eminent in literature or active life, they were possessed
by an adventuresome daring that led them into danger where
prudence would have kept them safe. It must be remembered,
too, that the cavalry is the part of an army which meets with ad-
ventures; that the infantry and artillery do the heavier work of
the pitched battles; while the cavalry is used in the numberless
raids, reconnoissances, etc., the history of which possesses so
much interest. Then, too, although the inequality did not long
exist, the Southern cavalry, in the early days of the War, stood
out pre-eminent; for the Federals were notably deficient in that
arm of the service.
495
496 Two of the Black Horse Cavalry.
Let a single exploit of two members of this body serve as an
example of their methods.
“Fighting Joe Hooker” had succeeded Burnside in the com-
mand of the Army of the Potomac ; and the Confederate Gen.
Fitzhugh Lee had, with a brigade of cavalry, crossed the Rap-
pahannock and driven in the Federal pickets. As he returned
with his prisoners to the left flank of the Confederate army,
some of the members of the Black Horse became dissatisfied
with the amount of adventure which
had fallen to their share, and asked
permission to follow up the enemy
as he marched to Fredericksburg.
Their plan was to pick up strag-
glers or horses, as opportunity should
invite. -
Ten or a dozen were given the
iſ desired permission, but the sport
proved poor; and when they had
gone some distance and failed to
find the objects of their search, all
but two concluded to return. -
“Come on, Joe,” cried one, famili-
arly known as Old Blaze, when he
found that such was the purpose of
his companions, “I don’t believe you
want to go back with them any
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Black Horse Cavalryman.
more’n I do.”
“You can just bet your bottom dollar, I don’t. Come on, boys,
don’t go back yet. There’ll be some fun presently.”
“Can’t see it,” replied one, with indifference.
“We’ll leave all the fun to you and Boteler,” said another, ad-
dressing “Old Blaze.”
“All right, then ; if you want to give it up so. Good bye.”
“Good bye. Don’t get captured yourselves by stragglers.”
And with this friendly caution the less persevering rode away,
while the two more venturesome kept on their course. They
had not gone far before a most annoying deficiency in their sup-
plies was discovered—there was not a drop of liquor in either
canteen. This was a state of affairs not to be endured, but how
was it to be remedied ?
“I tell you what we can do,” said Boteler; “Mrs. H. lives up




Two of the Black Horse Cavalry. 497
here near the Stafford line; let’s go call on her. She’ll fill our
canteens for us, I know.”
Away to the house of Mrs. H. they accordingly rode, to meet
with the heartiest of receptions.
“You see, Mrs. H.,” explained Mr. Boteler, “Mr. Blaisdell and
myself are out on a little scout of our own. The rest of the boys
have gone on with Gen. Lee's brigade, but we wanted to capture
some Yankees.”
“I’m sure I wish you all possible success,” rejoined the old
lady, politely.
“But there is one thing of which we are very much in need—
which, in fact, we can’t well do without,” continued Boteler.
“Is it powder 7 I have plenty that the boys got the last
time they went to the mill.”
“No, ma’am ; in fact, our canteens are empty, and if you have
any liquor to spare we’d be very much obliged to you to fill
them.”
“You say you are alone, and trying to take prisoners.”
“Yes; you see there are always a good many stragglers when
an army is on the march, and we want to pick up a few. ‘’Tis as
easy as lying,’” rejoined the soldier.
“Then, I think you’re going into enough danger for sober men,
and I’m not going to imperil you any farther by giving you
liquor,” said Mrs. H., with motherly firmness.
“Mrs. H., I pledge you my honor as a gentleman that I’ll not
let it ‘steal my brains away,’ and I think—I am sure Blaisdell
will promise as much.”
“I will, most readily.”
“And we’ll pay you well.”
“Mr. Boteler,” exclaſſmed the lady, indignantly, “you know I
do not object because I wish to keep the liquor. I refuse you,
purely for your own good.”
“But you won’t refuse the kind of pay we mean. How would
two Yankees do for each canteenful ? You’d take that sort of
remuneration, wouldn’t you ?” -
“We’ll say three, Joe,” chimed in Old Blaze; “that will just
be half a dozen.”
“Half a dozen Yankee prisoners for two canteens of brandy
. I know you can’t resist the offer.”
“If you’ll promise me”— began she, doubtfully.
“Can we do more than pledge our honor 7 We have already
498 Two of the Black Horse Cavalry.
done that,” returned Boteler, as she paused, doubtingly.
So the canteens were filled with most excellent liquor, and
the two soldiers rode away in high glee.
“There's no going back now,” exclaimed Blaisdell, exultant-
ly, as they left the road for the woods.
“Who wants to go back 7” demanded Boteler, with some heat.
Riding through the woods, enabled by their exact knowledge
of the country to dispense with such things as roads, they saw,
through the trees, a small squad of Federal troops, less famil-
iar with the lay of the land than they, and hence obliged to fol-
low the highway. The plan of attack needed no discussion,
nor was there time for it; for any moment they might themselves
be seen and attacked. Fortunately, they were
“Two souls with but a single thought,
Two hearts that beat as one,”
and putting spurs to their horses, they charged, yelling as they
went, upon the Federals. The assailed party was taken entire-
ly by surprise, and most of them did not stop to inquire how
many were attacking. Two, either braver or worse mounted
than their comrades, lingered somewhat behind, only for each
to find a revolver at his temple, and a voice in his ear demand-
ing his surrender. Yielding to the necessity of the case, and
never once supposing anything but that they were attacked by a
large force, they gave themselves up, handed over their arms
and dismounted.
“You just wait here by the roadside until we get back,” com-
manded Boteler. “It won’t do to try to escape, because the
woods are full of our cavalry, and you’d be certain to be caught
if you tried it.” -
Which statement showed just what the young man meant when
he told Mrs. H. that capturing stragglers was “as easy as lying.”
But the prisoners neither felt nor manifested the least doubt of
his truthfulness, and with heavy hearts and long faces sat down
by the roadside to await the return of their captors. The latter
entrusted the arms and horses to the care of a citizen living near
by, on whom they knew they could rely, and proceeded on their
way. The liquor was not half paid for yet.
Through the woods they again took their course, keeping just
near enough to the road to see without being seen. They had
not gone far when they spied the rearguard of a cavalry force,
leisurely wending its way along.
Two of the Black Horse Cavalry. 499
“They’re going pretty slow, Blaze; suppose we hurry 'em up
a little.” -
“All right. Get a little behind them, so they won’t guess
there are only two of us.”
In an instant they had begun to put the plan into execution.
With rapidly repeated yells, to give idea that there was a much
larger force, they charged upon the rearguard, “hurrying them up
a little.” Two, however, fell into their hands, and were prompt-
ly disarmed. Fortune favored them, that day, for they had not
gone far when they descried through the trees, another Federal
soldier, riding slowly and alone along the roadside.
There was a hurried whispered consultation as to what had
best be done, as a result of which Blaisdell was left in charge
of the two prisoners, while Boteler rode alone towards the Fed-
eral, who evidently had no suspicion that an enemy was near.
Pleasant thoughts of bygone and future times were perhaps
soothing the brain under the blue cap, when suddenly came the
Words:
“Halt Surrender, or you are a dead man.”
He instinctively made a motion towards his holsters, but his
hand was stopped as he heard the ominous click with which the
Confederate warned him that he could not escape.
“Yez hev got the drrop on me, sor,” he said, with a rich
brogue, as he handed over his arms and dismounted; “it never
intered me head that any of yous might be near.”
He was duly escorted to the point where Blaisdell was await-
ing the return of his companion. Here a council of war took
place.
“I reckon we’d better go back and get the others, don’t you?”
“Oh, they’re not there.”
“What's the reason they’re not ?”
“They’ve been rescued, or else escaped. They didn’t believe
what you told them about the woods being full of our men.”
“Didn’t they though 7 What'll you bet?” -
“Most anything. We might as well go back, though, for it’s
getting late, and we musn't get cut off.”
Back they accordingly went, and much to Blaisdell's, and per-
haps to Boteler's, surprise, found the first prisoners they had
captured patiently awaiting their return. But, as the former had
said, it was growing late, and they ought not to risk being cut
off from their command; besides, they had as many prisoners as
32
500 Two of the Black Horse Cavalry.
they could attend to, perhaps more; there would be little chance
of taking any more that night; so, all these considerations being
duly weighed, they decided to return.
“Hello, Johnnie ’’ called Blaisdell, as they met a small boy;
“how are you?”
“First rate, sir; how are you?”
“Oh, prime. How's your uncle 7”
“He was well, the last time we heard from him. He went to
Richmond a week ago.” -
“Yes, I heard of it. All well down at the house 7”
“Yes, sir; they’re all right busy now, getting supper for
some soldiers.”
“Soldiers ? What kind 7”
“Oh, they are Fed's Cavalry, they are. There ain’t any more
of our men around now.”
“How many are there 7”
“Iſow many at our house 7 Three.”
“ All mounted 7”
“Yes, sir; all got good horses.”
“All right; you wait here for us, won’t you? and don’t tell
any one that you have seen us.”
“All right, sir.”
“We must have those horses, Joe.”
“But what under the sun are we to do with these five men
while we go and get them 7” -
“Couldn’t we leave them at Mrs. ’s until we get through 7”
“Yes, I reckon that would be the best thing we can do.”
Accordingly, riding up to the house of the lady mentioned,
they asked her if she could accommodate them and their prison-
ers with supper. }
“I shall be glad to do so, gentlemen, but you will have to keep
a sharp lookout, I fear. Mr. A. and Mr. B. are here, and I’ve
heard that they have taken the oath. I’m not sure how true
the rumor is, but it is best to be on the safe side, so I thought I’d
warn you in time.” -
“Thank you. And can you manage to delay supper a little
while 7 We wan’t to go up to Sam J 's, and would like to
have the prisoners kept until we return.”
“Certainly I can delay serving supper as long as you wish;
but there is no one here, you know, to act as guards.”
“We’ll make A. and B. do it, oath or no oath.”
Two of the Black Horse Cavalry. 501
The prisoners were ordered to dismount and go into the house;
and while Boteler hid the horses and the arms they could not
otherwise dispose of, Blaisdell called the two men, suspected of
loyalty, aside.
“Gentlemen, I can’t pretend to say how true it is, but we have
heard that you have taken the oath of allegiance to the United
States Government; now Mr. Boteler and I are obliged to go
down the road a piece, and we cannot conveniently take our pris-
oners along. Here are two loaded carbines. You will stand
guard over those five soldiers until we return ; and if they escape,
you will find yourselves lodged in Castle Thunder before you
are many days older. I suppose we may rely on you?”
The two civilians, well knowing the character of the men with
whom they had to deal, assented to their demands; and the two
Confederates departed to capture, if not the three cavalrymen,
at least their horses.
Boteler entered at the front door of the house, and was greet-
ed with the sight of the arms which the soldiers had left in a
corner of the hall. Blaisdell, flanking the house, entered at the
rear, and both opened different doors of the sitting-room at the
same moment. As the Federals saw, standing directly opposite
in the doorway, a man in full Confederate uniform, they started
to their feet, and sprang towards the hall for their arms, only to
find a similar apparition confronting them there.
“You’d better surrender without any fuss, gentlemen ; you
see for yourselves you are disarmed and surrounded.”
In fact there was nothing else to be done, for with strange
carelessness, or a feeling of complete security, they had not even
their pistols. One of them proved to be the best game they had
yet brought down, for he was a courier with valuable dispatches.
Hastily securing the men, arms and horses, the Confederates
returned to relieve the two civilians whom they had posted as
guards over the other prisoners; and found that, alarmed by the
threat of Castle Thunder, they had not violated the promise that
had been exacted of them. Then, with their prisoners, they set
out for camp. Passing the house of Mrs. H., they stopped a few
moments.
“Here are your prisoners, Mrs. H.; eight of them. Where shall
we put them 7”
“Eight? Why, that's two more than you promised,” she an-
Swered, smiling. I haven’t room for so many, and besides, may-
| \ .
502 Two of the Black Horse Cavalry.
be they’d get away. You’d better take them to camp, I reckon,
and keep them for me. Will you be so kind 7” -
“O, certainly. At least, we'll turn them over to Gen. Stuart,
who is always ready to do anything for a lady. We couldn’t do
it very well ourselves.”
So they rode on to the Confederate camp ; but finding them-
selves safely within the lines, and being very tired with the
long day’s ride, they stopped for the night, with their pris-
oners, at a house they knew to be occupied by Southern people.
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A Repast Disturbed.
Farly the next morning they were again on the road, and long
before noon had reported to Capt. Randolph, in command of the
Black IIorse Cavalry.
“Take your prisoners to Gen. Stuart's headquarters,” directed
that Officer.
Stuart listened attentively to their story, his blue eye spark-
ling with delight as they recounted the cavalier-like adven-
tures; then, when they had concluded, he twirled his huge mous-
tache a moment, and laughing heartily, said:
“Well, it's the first time I ever knew liquor entitled to be put
on the credit side.”

Two of the Black Horse Cavalry. 503
Such was one of the exploits of two members of the Black
Horse Cavalry. Story after story might be told of them ; but we
have chosen this as showing the singular daring of the men, as
well as the good fortune which so often attended their courage.
The command did good service throughout the war; and when
the surrender of Appomattox took place, they made every effort
to reach Joe Johnston in North Carolina, but were stopped on
the way by the intelligence that he, too, had surrendered his
army. Then, the corps, which had been organized under the
laws of the United States by an officer of the Federal Army, and
which had, before he became a Confederate General, transferred
its allegiance to the State of Virginia, disbanded, and the men
returned quietly to their homes.
£HAFTER LX
DESTRUCTION OF THE ALBEMARLE.
Torpedoes—The Albemarle—Lieut. Cushing's Plan—The Expedition—Precau-
tions Adopted—The Journey—Defenses of the Ram—The Attack—Confusion
—The Launch— Disabled—Federals Captured — Lieut. Cushing's Narrow Es-
cape—Senseless on the Shore—Hears of His Own Death—Creeping Away—
Difficulties—The Swamp Road—An Astonished Darkey—A Satisfactory Re-
port—A Prize — Floating Down the Roanoke–Perplexed Marines — A Sur-
prise—Honor Claimed by Another Man—The Claim Disproved.
HEN, during the War of 1812, Fulton and some other
V V Americans of kindred genius put forth certain inventions
designed to disable the enemy's ships without directly giving
battle, every one was horrified at the idea. To destroy the vessel,
even of an enemy, in such an underhand manner, could surely
be no better than assassination would be considered in time of
peace. But times change, and the people with them. What was
dubbed an infernal machine, a diabolical contrivance, in 1812,
became, forty years later, in the hands of the Russians, a regular-
ly recognized engine of war; and during the War between the
States in our own country, the torpedo was considered as per-
missible as the musket of the sharpshooter.
There was indeed a necessity for something of the kind, the
science of naval architecture having progressed so far. It was
essential that the Confederate States should not receive supplies
from abroad or send her own products to foreign markets. The
Southern ports, then, were blockaded by Northern vessels;
many fights took place between the blockaders and the Confed-
erate men-of-war; gradually the vessel became better calculated
at once to resist injury and to inflict it ; and the waters were
filled with iron-clads, rams and gunboats.
Among all the vessels belonging to the Confederacy, there
504
Destruction of the Albemarle. 505
was, perhaps, no other whose name was so well known as the
Albemarle. Stationed for some time in the North Carolina
waters, she was lying in the Roanoke, opposite Plymouth, when,
in the autumn of 1864, a young naval officer, Lieut. W. B. Cush-
ing, studied out a plan for her destruction. Submitting it to the
Rear Admiral and the Navy Department, the excellence of the
device was at once recognized, and every effort ordered to be
made for its execution. Lieut. Cushing had been, during the
summer and earlier fall, in command of one of the sixteen ves-
sels used to keep the ram blockaded in the Roanoke; but he was
now detached from this
service, and sent to New
York, to procure what-
ever might be necessary
for the success of his plan.
Before the application
of steam as a motive pow-
er on water had become
general, the picket duty
of the fleet, in time of
war, was performed by
marines who rowed from
one point to another, as
their brethren on shore
rode. This, of course,
required considerable la-
bor, which was, by Fulton's famous invention, rendered un-
necessary; and the picket launch has almost universally su-
perseded the older boat. Resembling in size the launch of a
large man-of-war, it is provided with a compact engine, and by
its size is admirably calculated to elude the vigilance of the
enemy on such an occasion as that which we are about to de-
Lieut. W. B. Cushing.
scribe.
Many men were anxious to take part in the expedition, and
the volunteers for that purpose numbered several times as many
as could be accepted. From among these, Lieut. Cushing se-
lected six officers and seven seamen, who were all known to him
as well qualified for the purpose. On the night of October 26th,
1864, they set out upon their perilous undertaking, only to give
up the idea, for that night, in a very short time. The picket
launch ran aground, and it was only after considerable delay

506 Lestruction of the Albemarle.
and with no small difficulty that she was again set afloat; it
was then too late in the night to think of going onward, and
they returned to the Monticello.
But though the first attempt had been thus foiled, they were
by no means discouraged. At dusk on the following evening,
the party was again ready to set out; but departure was delay-
ed until complete darkness should conceal their movements.
His plan was to pass the enemy’s pickets, come alongside the
Albemarle, place the torpedo and explode it; then, to escape in
the confusion and darkness. Everything was most carefully ar-
ranged to secure complete silence, as the slightest sound might
betray them. The usual bell-signals to the engineer were to be
replaced by pulls at a line, one end of which was fastened
around his leg, while the others was in the hand of Lieut. Cush-
ing, and the system of signals by this rude telegraph was care-
fully arranged. Another line would, when pulled, detach the
torpedo from the launch ; a third was to enable him to explode
it at the proper time. The engine, of course, would make too
much noise to enable them to pass the pickets in safety, so it
was arranged that they should row until speed became more
necessary than silence in their retreat.
As they descended into the little vessel the rain fell in torrents,
while the wind mournfully spoke its prophecies of the coming
winter. The night was pitch dark; glimmering faintly through
the thick blackness, they could just discern the lights along the
shore of the narrow stream, as, with muffled oars, they rowed
towards Plymouth. It required careful steering to avoid being
seen from the shore, for the river was well-guarded by the ene-
my; but, thanks to the Egyptian darkness which surrounded
them, they eluded the observation of the numerous pickets
stationed on both sides of the stream, and passed safely under
the very walls of the forts that frowned above its current. They
passed within twenty yards of a Confederate picket-launch, but
so completely successful were their precautions, that their pres-
ence was not suspected.
They had hitherto kept near that bank of the river on which
the town is situated ; but having safely passed this marine picket-
post, they changed their course and rowed directly across the
river. They were now directly opposite Plymouth. Rowing
still farther up the river, they recrossed and descended the
stream, so as to come upon the ram from above the town. As they
Destruction of the Albemarle. 507
swept towards it, they could see clearly the situation of the ves-
sel and its defenses. The rain had stopped by this time, and al-
though the sky was starless, the air was clearer; so that any ar-
tificial light was more distinctly seen. The huge camp-fire that
blazed on the shore near the point where the Albemarle lay,
showed that it was moored to a wharf, and surrounded by a boom
of pine logs, about twenty feet from the vessel. The light of the
blaze also made visible the presence of a large body of infantry,
whose fire would perhaps be upon them.
The presence of the boom, although not entirely unforeseen,
yet complicated matters considerably. Such a structure was in-
tended especially to thwart such enterprises as the present, by
preventing the approach of a torpedo unnoticed. In modern
naval warfare such engines of destruction are often sent off from
a considerable distance, and exploded by means of a wire com-
municating with an electric battery; so that a defense of some
kind, usually a net-work of strong wire, is necessary.
They were close upon this outer defense of the ram when they
were perceived by the watch on board.
“What boat is that?” came the challenge.
“The Albemarle's boat,” was the answer, as the launch struck
full against the logs, crushing them at least ten feet in.
But the action was hardly suited to the word, and in an in-
stant, as it seemed to them, there poured upon them, from the
infantry on shore, a shower of bullets. Quick and sharp were
the voices of the Confederate officers on board the Albemarle,
as the orders issued from their lips. Each man sprang to his
post, and in an instant the ports were opened, and a gun train-
ed upon the mysterious assailant.
Hastily detaching the torpedo from the launch, Lieut. Cushing
directed the course of the boom so that in a moment's time it
would be beneath the Confederate vessel, and as with one hand he
touched off the howitzer, with the other he pulled the line which
exploded the torpedo. But at the very instant that this was
done, a musket-ball from the shore struck his right arm, and
a shell from the doomed ram burst above the heads of the Fed-
erals and descended among them.
No words can do justice to the wild confusion of the scene;
for words at best are but slow and poor describers of the actual.
That which takes us several minutes in the telling, did not oc-
cupy as many seconds. The report of the howitzer on the Fed-
508 Destruction of the Albemarle.
eral launch, the rattle of the musketry on shore, the boom of
the Albemarle's gun, the shrieking of the shell, the hissing of
the shot, the whistling of the bullets, the explosion of the tor-
pedo—all these sounds came with such terrible rapidity that
there was no succession of noises—it was one loud, discordant
crash, one single salute to the terrible god of war.
As the glare of the exploding torpedo lit up the water with a
ghastly glow, it showed the Federal launch shattered into a
thousand fragments by the descent of the shell. The force of
the explosion had rent asunder the pine logs composing the
boom, and the handful of men that had formed the crew of the
launch were struggling to escape from more than one danger.
Threatened with death by the musket-balls from the shore, they
must keep afloat in the icy water; weighed down by their
heavy clothes, and with every limb benumbed by cold, they
must avoid the masses of logs which, detached from their places
in the circle of defense, are being borne onward by the swift
current, and whirled around in the troubled waters where the
launch has sunk.
Throwing off their coats and shoes when they saw that each
must shift for himself, Cushing and his men had leaped into the

Destruction of the Albemarle. 509
water just as the shell burst above their heads. They had some
difficulty in escaping from the whirlpool made by the sinking
of the heavier parts of the launch, but struck out for the oppo-
site shore. Many of the Confederates were busy about the ram,
assisting their comrades in saving as much as possible of her ac-
coutrements. But there were others not so employed, and these
took aim at the Federals in the water, struggling to escape so
many dangers.
but humanity forbade this, and the fire from the shore soon
ceased. Boats were sent out, and ten of the Federals, unable to
surmount such a combination of difficulties, surrendered them-
selves. Two had already drowned or been shot; one swam the
river, and after lying concealed in the neighboring marshes for
two days, without food, shelter, or any means of drying his
dripping clothes, succeeded in reaching a place of safety. It re-
mains for us to detail the fate of the commander.
Leaping from the launch as soon as he had performed his self.
imposed task, he struck out for the opposite bank. But their
course was plainly seen by the riflemen on shore, and the plash-
ing of bullets in the water around him warned him that this was
an impracticable plan. Turning down stream, then, he made the
best time possible under the circumstances; but it must be re-
membered that if the others had to contend with numbness of
limbs in the icy stream, with the weight of their heavy uniforms,
dripping with water, with the logs and fragments of the wreck
that strewed the river far and wide, with the necessity of avoid-
ing the Confederate bullets, he had all these obstacles to over-
come with a single arm, his right wrist having been so badly
wounded as to make it unfit to be used.
He swam down stream for nearly an hour. But though the
will be strong, nature bends it to her necessities as she snaps
the steel rail or fells the oak. In spite of his determination to
escape, he became so exhausted that he could no longer keep
afloat, and he struck out for the shore. So entirely had be been
sustained by sheer resolution that the moment that his feet
touched the solid ground once more, and he no longer felt that
exertion was necessary to prevent immediate death, he fell
senseless to the earth. Fortunately, he had landed where some
low bushes clothed the edges of the stream, and his prostrate,
unconscious form was thus shielded from the view of any ene-
my who might chance to pass.
510 Destruction of the Albemarle.
How long he lay in this condition he never knew certainly,
but the time of starting and that employed in the journey, con-
sumed by the startling events of the night, and that which
elapsed before dawn, showed that he must have been insensible
for some time. Revived at last by the cold air of the October
night, he heard the sound of far-off voices as he hovered just on
the boundary between the swoon and the return of conscious-
ness; gradually they drew nearer and nearer; and feeling rather
than thinking that they might have been close by all the time,
he roused himself with a powerful effort, just in time to distin-
guish the words:
“Who planned it?”
“Lieut. Cushing, who has been in command of the Monticello
all the summer and fall.”
“And did he accompany them 7”
“O, yes; he seems to have planned it and worked it out him-
self. His men, it appears, were not intrusted with anything he
could do himself. They had one gun on board, and he touched
that off, detached the torpedo and exploded it. So they say, at
least.”
“Then he wasn’t captured 7”
“No, he was one of the four that were killed. His men say
a bullet struck him just before the shell exploded, and he must
have been shot again or else that first wound made him too weak
to swim. Anyhow, he was killed.”
“Couldn’t he have escaped?”
“O, no; in five minutes the river was covered with our boats.
It was utterly impossible for any one, let alone a wounded man,
to escape.”
This conversation was of course highly gratifying to the hear-
er for whose ears it was not intended, as proving to him that,
unless he should betray himself, there was no pursuit to be fear-
ed. Sometimes, it is a fortunate thing for a man if he can make
his enemies believe him dead. Tistening a little longer, for he
dared not move, for fear of attracting their attention, he found
that one of the speakers was a sentry, while the other two were
officers. Waiting until the latter had taken their departure, he
edged himself slowly and silently towards the river again. But
a glance revealed that it would be dangerous to try to escape by
that road, as every one, wakened by the excitement from any
temporary carelessness, was now on the alert.
I)estruction of the Albemarle. 511
He changed his course, then, though not his mode of proceed-
ing. It was dangerous to raise himself, however slightly, above
the surface; and the only way he had of getting over the ground
was by working with his heels upon the earth, and thus dragging
himself along on his back. In this manner he had approached
the river from the bushes, and in this manner he retreated from
the banks of the stream to a denser thicket, a little farther from
the water's edge. -
The place of con-
ce alm ent was not
reached a moment too
soon, for it was near-
ly dawn when he se-
creted himself in the
bushes. All during
the long, long hours
of the day he lay
there, scarcely daring
to breathe deeply,
lest he betray his
presence to some one
of the many who
were continually
passing. The hope of
escape was food and
drink and warmth to
him as he waited im-
patiently for the ap- A Concealed Listener.
proach of the friendly darkness. At last, the night came, and ris-
ing to his feet he gained a swamp near by the thicket.
His limbs were numbed by the cold, and cramped by lying so
long in one position ; his wrist was exceedingly painful, for the
exposure to cold and the lack of attention had caused consider-
able inflammation ; but exercise soon restored the circulation
which had been partially stopped, and he felt that pain was
nothing to imprisonment—that it were better to sacrifice his
right arm than his liberty. The only passable ground in the
swamp was an old road, which, to judge from the briars that
flung their thorny arms from side to side, had not been used for
many years; but in the time that it had been used, some one had
strewn it with oyster-shells, as a sort of rude macadam. This
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512 Lestruction of the Albemarle.
paving lacerated his shoeless feet, while his hands were torn by
the briars that must be put aside before he could pass.
Many times he was obliged to rest an hour or so before he
could proceed ; and would sink down, exhausted, upon the road,
only to rise with renewed energy as the report of a distant gun
warned him that he was still in the enemy’s country. He was
in a pitiable condition when he emerged from the swamp on the
following day; hatless, coatless, shoeless, with feet and hands
torn and bleeding, suffering intense pain from his wounded arm,
and having been without food for thirty-six hours. He had
hardly gained terra firma once more before he met an old negro
Iſla, Il.
“Good morning,” he said, in as cheerful a tone as he could
command. * -
“Good laws a massy, sah, who is you?” asked the darkey,
starting back in affright.
“I am a Yankee soldier,” was the reply, “and one of the men
that blew up the Albemarle.”
“O, my Lawd Is you one ob de men what got killed 7 Dey
done cotched all de rest.” -
“They thought I was killed, but I got away. Can I trust you
to go to town and bring me back the news. See, I will pay you
well.”
“You kin jest trust dis nigger to fin’ out eberyting what's
goin’ on, sah. What is it you pertikerlarly wants to know?”
“I want you to find out just what has become of the Albe-
marle’— .
“Law Massa, she done blowed up clean, I heered.”
“Find out exactly what has become of her; what the soldiers
are doing, and whether they are going to leave the town.”
“Is dat, all ?”
“Yes, that will be enough,” replied the soldier, as he thought
of the amount and importance of the information he had asked
for.
The darkey departed on his errand, jubilant at the prospect of
earning so much money so easily; and the officer, the better to
provide for defense, secreted himself in the branches of a large
tree not yet divested of its brown foliage, and opened his pocket-
knife, the nearest approach to a weapon which he possessed.
Here he waited for some time, peering anxiously through the
rustling leaves in order to discern the approach of friend or
Destruction of the Albemarle. 513
foe as soon as possible. At last he descried his sable messenger
shambling along the road, and hastily descended from his perch.
“I done tol’ you, Massa, de Albemahl clean blowed up. Dah
war a hole in her side big enough fo' a hoss to walk through,
and she jest settled down into de water right off. I seen de wha’f
whar she uscd to be.”
“And the soldiers ?”
“Didn’t see none, sah ; dey all skedaddled, I reckon—ki, hi-
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ebery one of dem, soon as dat 'ar ole ram got busted”
“Are you sure there were no soldiers in town 7”
“Didn’t see none, sah ; and de Secesh people dey’s all packin’
up fas’’s dey kin.”
This was all the information that he could get out of the dar-
key, but it was sufficient, if reliable. The Albemarle had sunk;
the object of the expedition had been accomplished; the town
had been evacuated by the Confederates, when they no longer
had the ram to defend them on the river side. But he knew that
the Southern troops were still stationed on the other side of the
river; hence his movements must be extremely cautious.
Going further down the stream by a road that ran parallel to
the bank, though at some distance from it, he saw on the oppos-
ite side a picket boat, moored to a stake. This was indeed a prize.



















514 Lestruction of the Albemarle.
Plunging once more into the icy stream, he swam across, and
finding no sentinel within hearing, cut, with his pocket-knife,
the rope which tied the boat. But he dared not get into the lit-
tle craft, for fear of attracting attention from the shore. Towing
it well into the current, then, he simply allowed it to float down
the stream, while he swam after it. At last, however, he thought
he was fairly beyond the Confederate lines; and getting into
the boat, paddled for eight hours.
It was a weary journey before the black hulls of the vessels
composing the Federal squadron greeted his eyes, and his
strength was nearly exhausted. Summoning up all his powers
for one last effort—a tremendous one for his present weakened
condition—he hailed his own vessel. The officer in command
was somewhat distrustful, as were his subordinates; it was some
daring Rebel trick, they could not tell exactly what; but before
they had decided, the one man had fallen at full length in the
bottom of his boat. Nothing could be feared from a faint-
ing foe, unless this should be a part of the ruse; but at any
rate, a boat was dispatched to bring him on board the Monticel-
lo. What was the surprise of the sailors who manned the launch
to find it was their own commander . The iron will which had
sustained him since his departure failed him, when no longer
necessary, at his return ; and completely worn out by the forty-
eight hours’ exposure to danger and to cold, by the suffering en-
tailed by his wound and by the privations he had endured, he
had fallen fainting at the very haven of safety.
His exploit opened the Roanoke to the Federal vessels, and
all the waters of North Carolina were cleared of the Confeder-
ates. The fleet which had been detailed for the sole purpose of
watching the Albemarle was now free for other duty, to which
the vessels were speedily assigned. The whole expedition was
planned by the one man, who took so large a share in carrying
out his own idea.
NoTE.—From a recent newspaper we clip the following, which
goes to show how honors may be claimed by others when they
have long been accredited to the proper wearers:
“WASHINGTON, Mar. 23d, 1883.
“Daniel G. George, having publicly advertised that he exploded the torpedo which
sank the Confederate Ram Albemarle, the Navy Department, at the request of Pay-
master Francis H. Swan, has given the official report of the late Commander Cush-
Lestruction of the Albemarle. 515
ing of the destruction of the Albemarle, and an extract from his sworn testimony
given in Washington in 1873.” [The preceding account is made up of the official
reports and some Confederate and Northern contemporaneous accounts.] “Pay-
master Swan indorses the above documents as containing a correct and admirable
account of the destruction of the Albemarle, as does also Charles L. Steever, the
surviving engineer of the picket launch.”
39
ſhares LXI.
CONFEDERATES IN SHERIDAN'S CAMP.
Necessity for Information — The Party — “One of Blazer's Scouts” — A Sleepy
Picket—The End Accomplished—Another Trip—Confederate Votes for Lin-
coln — Issuing Orders to a Federal Officer— Blazer's Scouts in Reality—A.
Hot Pursuit — Taking the Fence — Back to His Men — A Desperate Skir-
mish—After Events.
NOTED Confederate partisan officer was Col. Harry Gil-
( \ mor, a Marylander; who, enlisting in Ashby's command
in September, 1861, rose from the ranks until he obtained the
commission which gave him the title generally attached to his
name. In the experiences of such a man, there must be many a
tale of stirring adventure such as, safe by the fireside, the veter-
an loves to recount. Every month has its own record, and
none is without interest. From the multitude of adventures we
select the one which appears best adapted to make an interest-
ing chapter.
About the middle of October, 1864, there was much uncertain-
ty in the Confederate councils regarding the real strength of the
forces under Gen. Sheridan; as it was confidently believed by
many that that general had sent a large portion of his troops to
the assistance of Gen. Grant. But this report would no sooner
be confirmed by one of the most reliable scouts, than another,
equally trustworthy, would flatly contradict it. At the earnest
request of Gen. Early, then, who wished to have positive and
exact information, Major Gilmor (as he was at that time) under-
took to penetrate into Sheridan’s camp, and bring back the de-
sired knowledge. The difficulty of the undertaking was much
enhanced by the fact that he had, some time before, received a
severe wound, from which he had not yet fully recovered.
516
Confederates in Sheridan's Camp. 517
He selected only one of his men to accompany him, but found
five or six more at his first stopping place, where they had been
stationed to annoy the enemy, by occasional dashes upon mes-
sengers and guards. These begged so hard to be allowed to ac-
company their leader, that he finally gave them the desired per-
mission, and the seven men rode onward. Their progress was
slow, for the officer’s wound was troublesome ; and it was not
until the night of the second day that they crossed the Potomac,
and took to the Valley Pike. -
They were now so near the Federal lines that the whole
country was filled with small scouting and foraging parties. Al-
though the Confederates had come merely for the purpose of ob-
taining information, and it was highly essential that they should
“depart in peace,” they could not resist the temptation to have a
little “fun,” when such scouting parties did not number more
than fifteen men. Major Gilm or and his men were all in full
gray uniform, but as the weather was extremely wet, each wore
a large oil-cloth poncho, which completely hid his Confederate
insignia from sight. #.
As it chanced, they had not gone very far before they came in
sight of a squad of cavalry, returning from a scout. Secure in
the feeling that there were no Rebels near, there was no attempt
made to protect the rear. The little group of Confederates saw
this, and laid their plans carefully. In pursuance of the plot,
they rode forward rapidly, yet so cautiously that they were not
seen by the Federals, while one of the gray-coats, R , push-
ed on until he was alongside the officer. Reeling slightly in his
saddle, he produced his canteen and offered it with tipsy grav-
ity: - N."
“Have a drink, sir? First-class (hic) whisky.”
“Go back to your place in the ranks at once,” commanded the
officer, sternly; somewhat angered by the impudence of the man.
“Beg pardon, sir, but (hic) I don’t belong to this command.
I’m (hic) one of Blazer's scouts, just returning from some (hic)
first-rate fun with the Rebs. Take a drink, sir.”
Thus assured that the half drunken fellow beside him was not
one of his own men, the officer readily took a drink with him.
It was most excellent whisky.
“Got a lot of it just back (hic) here, sir; just drop back and
take all you like.”
The temptation was too strong. The officer “dropped back;”
518 Confederates in Sheridan's Camp.
but, as he again elevated the proffered canteen, his new com-
panion suddenly became sober, and the muzzle of a pistol was
pushed in his face.
“Your life’s not worth a red cent if you make any noise,” was
the warning given him, in a low, determined tone, that contrast-
ed strangely with that same voice as he had heard it a few mo-
ments ago. Thus admonished, what could he do but surrender?
But this Federal did not have an opportunity to get lonesome ;
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for before many hours had passed, twelve others had been cap-
tured in a similar manner. The prisoners were then sent off to a
place of security, in charge of the five men who had been added
to the force after starting; while Maj. Gilmor and his original
companion, S--, concealed themselves in a thicket. This af.
forded them opportunity for sleeping, each for a time while the
other kept guard ; here they could discuss the contents of their
haversacks; and from this point they could command a fair view
of the enemy’s camp.
But this was too far off for them to see as distinctly as they
wished ; it was a case in which distance did not lend enchantment
to the view ; and at Sunrise the next morning, they put on the
blue overcoats which they had strapped to their saddles, and

































Confederates in Sheridan's Camp. 519
prepared to descend from the eminence crowned by the thicket.
They had not gone far before they were halted by a picket with
the usual challenge.
“Friends without the countersign,” was the reply; “we were
captured last night, with some others; but we escaped and got
hold of a couple of horses.”
The picket was very sleepy; besides, they had on blue over-
coats; they were undoubtedly officers, and their story must be
true. So, smothering a yawn, out of respect for the presence
of his superiors, he bade them pass on ; and then roused himself
far enough to look around him for signs that he would soon be
relieved from duty. Meanwhile, the two Confederates were
about to pass on, when he suddenly bethought himself that he
was passing them too readily. They might cause him to be rep-
rimanded for his carelessness.
“Hold on there a minute—I beg pardon, gentlemen, but what
did you say your regiment was 7”
“Twenty-first New York Cavalry,” answered Major Gilmor,
readily.
“All right, sir; pass on.”
They passed the inside picket lines by the same story; and
were then tolorably safe, unless recognized. But although both,
especially the officer, were widely known throughout the valley,
they were fortunate enough to escape betrayal by even a chance
recognition. They walked leisurely about within a hundred yards
of Gen. Sheridan's headquarters, and ascertained that not a man
had been sent to Gen. Grant. Then, having accomplished the
end for which they were sent, they were ready to return to
the Confederate lines; or at least to the neutral ground of the
mountains, where their five comrades were awaiting them, hav-
ing disposed of the thirteen prisoners.
IHere, the state of Major Gilmor’s wound necessitated a farther
rest of a day or two ; and when that had been done, he determined
to return and make another reconnoissance of the camp. For dur-
ing the time that he had been engaged in this expedition, Gen.
Early had fallen back so that it would be difficult to reach him;
while Major Gilmor’s knowledge of affairs in the Confederate
camp was such that he felt assured that this movement of Early’s
was only the prelude to an advance ; when recent information in
regard to the enemy’s camp would be of the greatest service. He
accordingly determined to make another trip, in order to secure,
520 • Confederates in Sheridan's Camp.
not only later, but additional information. Having rested a day
or two, then, they again pushed on into the very heart of the
enemy's country.
They had not gone far before they overtook four men, riding
leisurely along. All were clad in blue overcoats, as were the
men of Maj. Gilmor’s command. A little conversation ensued, in
which the parties mutually introduced themselves as some of
Blazer's scouts and members of Torbert’s cavalry.
“Out on a scout 7” asked one of Gilmor’s men.
“O, no,” replied the Blazer, “we’re just going to vote; going
to vote for the next president, you can bet your bottom dollar.”
“For the next president 7” said Maj. Gilmor, “I suppose you
don’t want any change 7”
“The man that's carried the country through so far is good
enough to finish the job, sir.” .
“I suppose he will be elected by a large majority. He will
have the votes of the soldiers, especially.”
“Yes, he will; Little Mac used to be mighty popular when he
first took command, but he ain’t nowhere now ; you see, people
have come to realize that a Democrat ain’t much better than a
d—d Rebel.” -
The unsuspicious Lincolnites suddenly found themselves call-
ed upon to surrender; the muzzle of a revolver in each one's
face, and the low, stern tones of “Torbert’s men” in each one's
ear. The four prisoners were sent to the rear by three of the
men, while Major Gilmor, with the remaining three, took pos-
session of their papers and election tickets, and rode boldly into
Sheridan's camp. The votes of four sworn soldiers of the Con-
federacy went to swell Lincoln's popular majority of four hun-
dred thousand. Of course, after having cast their votes for the
Republican candidate, their politics were not questioned ; and
they went where they would in the camp, obtaining much in-
valuable information.
But they were not only to vote for the President of the United
States—Major Gilmor was to issue orders, as a superior, to an
officer in the United States Army. It happened in this wise:
Riding into Shepherdstown, to investigate the rumors regarding
some outrages committed by the “Jessie scouts,” and to avenge
them if any of that corps could be found, Major Gilmor found
satisfactory evidence that the depredations had really been com-
mitted, but could not find any trace of the perpetrators. Thus
* *
Confederates in Sheridan's Camp. 521
foiled in his object, he went to call on some lady friends living
on one of the principal streets; for the Major's gallantry was like
a good rule, it worked both ways. As he stood at the gate,
talking to them, squads of Federal soldiers were constantly pass-
ing and repassing.
“Major, you’ll be captured again, I’m sure,” exclaimed one of
the ladies, when, after several such groups had passed, she could
no longer conceal her anxiety.
“O, there’s not the slightest danger,” he answered, with a
laugh, “If there was, I wouldn’t risk it, for I didn’t find Fort
McHenry so pleasant a place, though it is so near home.”
“The idea of your not risking danger After what we’ve
heard of you, that sounds too ridiculous. Why do you carry
your arm in a sling, if you go on that principle 7” -
“O, it’s a plan that I’ve only recently adopted, you see. But
just let me show you how groundless your fears are.”
There was a small squad of Federals a few feet from him at
the moment he spoke ; and as they approached, he halted them.
The officer, completely deceived by the blue overcoat and by the
authoritative manner of the wearer, saluted Major Gilmor as a
superior officer.
“Go to the guard-house,” directed the disguised Confederate,
“and tell the officer in charge there to send a squad of men to
- ’s drinking saloon on - St., to arrest some men who
are creating a disturbance there.” -
The Federal, with due respect, undertook to execute the or-
der. He delivered the message to the officer in charge at the
guard-house, and the squad was sent to the place indicated ; but,
strange to say, the men to be arrested were not there, nor had
there been any disturbance, if the proprietor and his employes
might be believed. Setting down the disclaimers of these as the
testimony of interested parties, but unable to trace the matter
farther, the soldiers returned to the guard-house and duly re-
ported the result of their errand. Such things were of course
of almost daily occurrence, and no one thought of suspecting the
officer who had sent the message.
But the Confederates could not always remain in Shepherds-
town, and be entirely secure. Indeed, Major Gilmor’s call on
his fair friends had been simply for the purpose of taking leave;
and had the Federals sought him as soon as it was discovered
that there had been no such disturbance in the saloon mentioned,
522
Confederates in Sheridan
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Confederates in Sheridan's Camp. 523
they would not have found him in town. Beating a retreat to-
wards the Blue Ridge with his men, they were riding leisurely
through a belt of woods, early on the morning of Nov. 11th,
when they suddenly came upon the body of men famous as “Blaz-
er's Scouts”—sixty soldiers, picked from many different regi-
ments, and mounted on the fleetest and best of horses, expressly
to waylay small bodies of Confederates. Gilmor’s force num-
bered but five, so that it was useless to think of resistance;
that might have been tried with any other men, but he knew
these of old, and dared not risk it. Well it was that he so de-
cided, for they had been lying in ambush for some of Mosby's
men, whom they had nearly given up, and were just spoiling for
a fight.
Setting spurs to their horses, then, as soon as they saw what
a hornet's nest they had run into, the Confederates galloped
away as fast as they could ; knowing that if the speed of their
horses could not save them, nothing else could. Fortunately,
they were excellently mounted. They had fired one shot each
before they beat such a rapid retreat, but only two had taken
effect; there was no time, now, even to take aim. They first
dashed into a dense thicket, hoping that they might be able to
escape in that way; but the pursuers were after them so closely
that they had no opportunity of doing so. Over the roughest coun-
try that they could think of as existing in the neighborhood, the
Confederates led the way, hoping to wear out the animals on
which the Federals were mounted. This plan was more successful
than the preceding one, for one by one the scouts fell behind, un-
til there were but five in close pursuit. -
Rinowing of a private ford of which he felt certain that his
pursuers were ignorant, Major Gilmor led the way toward it.
But their path was blocked by a high stake fence. If they could
but jump it, they would be safe; but if they must stop to take
it down, the whole command would be upon them before they
got through. A good horse seems almost to know, by the touch
of his rider's hand, what is passing in that rider's mind; and to
this instinct was now added that emulation which possesses an-
imals as it does men. Major Gilmor’s horse was as anxious to
leap that fence as his rider was to have him, and took it in fine
style. Not so with those that his men bestrode; they obstinate-
ly refused to attempt it.
“Well, boys, if one of you that can use both hands better than
524 Confederates in Sheridan's Camp.
I can, will tear down the fence, I’ll come back and help fight off
those Feds. Come, Bill, try it again, old fellow.”
The horse obeyed his master’s words and hand, and made a
second gallant effort to leap the fence. But either the run had
not been long enough, or the long race had exhausted his
strength; whichever it was, he failed to clear it as at first ; just
touching the top rail with his knee, he fell a dead weight to the
earth, crushing his rider beneath him. The sight was madden-
ing to the Confederates. The young officer, whose soldierly
ability had raised him from the ranks, was all but idolized by
his men; and believing he had been killed in the effort to rejoin
them, when he might have escaped, they fought with terrible
energy. Fortunately for them, the main body of Blazer's men
had given up the pursuit, and were far in the rear—too far to
give any assistance to the five who were now approaching the
resolute Rebs.
Though the Federals were men selected, for their courage and
dogged determination to fight, from nearly half a hundred regi-
ments, they were confronted by men selected, in a similar man-
ner, from the Confederate Army; the numbers of the two par-
ties were exactly equal; there was but one thing to turn the
fortunes of the day—the motive for fighting. In this, indeed,
the Southerners had the advantage, and after a short fight, the
blue-coats, seeing that nothing was to be gained, sullenly re-
treated to the main force. Thus left masters of the field, the
Confederates got the seemingly lifeless body of their leader
across his horse, which had not been injured by the fall; and
thus conveyed him to a house near by, where they knew they
could find the necessary assistance. There he became conscious
again, and though unfit for service for sometime after, he was
able to mount and ride towards Newtown when, the next day,
it became certain that Early was advancing in that direction.
Some difficulty was experienced in getting through the enemy’s
lines, but the task was at last successfully accomplished ; and the
Confederate general was put in possession of certain and trust-
worthy information regarding the Federal general’s strength
and intentions.
Major Gilmor was, shortly after this, given the command of
Woodson's and McNeill’s Rangers, in addition to his own battal-
ion; and a commission as colonel. But he never went into ac-
tive service with his new rank, as the weather was, for the great-
Confederates in Sheridan's Camp. 525
er part of the winter, too cold for the raids and scouting expe-
ditions in which he delighted ; and he was captured early in the
succeeding February. It was while he was a prisoner of war
that a portion of his command, under Lieut. McNeill, performed
the daring exploit elsewhere narrated. The fall from his horse,
in this adventure, may perhaps be called the cause of his death;
for it re-opened the wound, a second re-opening of which result-
ed fatally as late as February, 1883. -
£HAPEREXII.
AN ESCAPE FROM A TRAIN.
The Road — Removal of Prisoners—Carelessness of Guards—Heavy Rain — Es-
cape — Escape Discovered — Pursued — Baffling the Bloodhounds — The
Swamp—A Great Loss—Helped by the Negroes—A Scare—An Unexpected
Friend—Reinforcements—Hope Deferred—A Surprise — A Battle—Flight—
Alone and Hopeless—Friends—Counting the Loss—Safe.
T was an October night in the year 1864; the great clouds had
I gathered over the sky, completely hiding the feeble rays of
the new moon; dark and vast stretched away the woods on eith-
er side of the railway track; who could tell what was hidden in
those recesses shaded from even noonday light by the thick,
glossy leaves that never fell, even in the winter-time 2 Yet even
in the very midst of this Southern forest the story of progress
had been written in lines of iron ; and along those lines and above
them, there now advanced a monster with a flaming eye and a
thundering tread. Onward it came through the darkness, rolling
nearer and nearer every moment to the great tank by the road-
side. As it approached, it slackened speed, for the mighty crea-
ture was thirsty. In plain English, there was a train coming,
and this was a wood and water station.
It was the road between Columbia and Charleston, S. C., of
which we write; and the time was a night about the middle of
October, 1864. The train was almost filled with prisoners of
war and the necessary guards; for the advance of the Federal
forces had obliged the Confederate Government to remove these
prisoners to a more secure place of confinement. Traveling
through the very heart of the Confederacy, it was not thought
necessary to provide, a very strong guard; indeed, not many
men could be spared for the purpose, for the strength of the
526
An Escape from a Train. 527
South was failing fast. As it turned out, the guard was really
too small for the purpose.
The train stopped at the water station, and the sleepy guards
had wakened up and looked sharply about them. There were so
few of them that all their vigilance was needed for the inside of
the cars, and they had not seen, some time before this, that four
of their prisoners had slipped out. Doing this at any time when
the train was dashing along at full speed, would have been sim-
ply suicide. As the train slackened speed, however, these four
men sprang from the platform to the ground ; sinking almost
knee-deep into the soft, damp earth, that deadened the sound
which might otherwise have betrayed them. The rain fell in
torrents; it was a night on which no man would willingly be
abroad, save those in whom a desire for liberty was stronger
than the love of comfort.
Not a word dared they utter, as they plunged into the heavy
woods that skirted the road; although the darkness was so thick
that each could hardly discern the forms of the others. At last,
however, they got to cover, and having heard no signs of pursuit,
they spoke in whispers to each other. As may be supposed,
they were Federal soldiers, and had been in prison, members of
one mess. Gen. J. Madison Drake was the officer of highest rank,
the others being Major Davis and Captains Todd and Grant.
Day after day they had studied over some plan for escape,
and when they found that they were to be removed by rail
to another prison, had determined to make this trial. Their
plan had been favored by the weather, for on a clearer night
they might have been seen by some one from the train.
But even as they were just whispering their congratulations
and joy at success to one another, crouched on the soft oozy
ground in the midst of a laurel thicket, a dreadful sound broke
the silence of the night. As they listened, came that which
they so much feared to hear—the voices of men, and worse still,
the deep-mouthed bay of a bloodhound. It was evident that
their escape had already been discovered, and that the baffled
guards were on their track. But to move could do no good, for
they might run into the very arms of their pursuers. They lay
still in the laurels, then, trusting that the hounds would be puz-
zled by an artifice to which they had had recourse.
As we have intimated, the plan of escape had been settled as
soon as they knew that they were to be removed; and every
528 An Escape from a Train.
preparation had been made which the rules of the prison and
the vigilance of their keepers would allow. Among other pre-
cautions, they had rubbed the soles of their shoes with onions,
and laid slices of the odorous vegetable inside. The heat of
the foot of course brought out the perfume in full force, and this
was the scent that lay along the path over which they had fled.
As they had hoped, the hounds were at fault, baffled by this pe.
culiar scent, which their instinct did not prompt them to follow.
The sound heard in the bushes was no longer the full yelp that
shows they are in pursuit of an easily traced prey ; it became,
by degrees, the short snarl by which they indicate their disap-
pointment and failure. Gradually the pursuers gave up the
chase, and the pursued were left to the silence of the forest and
the night.
When the sounds died away, and the stillness brought them a
sense of security, they moved onward through the swampy
woods. They sank knee deep, at every step, in water or slimy
black mud, and walking was, of course, exceedingly tiresome.
But they had not thought to escape without undergoing many
hardships, and they pressed resolutely on. Halting at morning
to rest during the day (for they thought it would be unsafe to
move onward except under cover of darkness), they could actual-
ly find no place on which they could rest their wearied limbs. To
sleep on the frozen ground, with a blanket for bed and cover-
ing, a knapsack for a pillow—that would have been solid comfort
to the worn-out men who stood in the swamp, leaning against
the bushes, and slept through the rainy hours of that October
day.
One must of course stand guard while the others slept, lest the
enemy come upon them unawares. But even when this was
taken into account, they slept but a few hours. Their blood was
so fevered with the desire of liberty that they could not rest un-
til that end was attained. The latter part of the afternoon was
occupied in fashioning rude clubs from the cypress of the
swamp; for arms, of course, had been unobtainable; yet they
must have weapons of some kind. Armed in this primitive fash-
ion, then, they set out on their sogond night's journey; their
way lighted, for several hours, by the faint and watery beams
of the new moon.
Whether the Confederates suspected their purpose to lie by
during the day and travel only by night, or had kept up the
An Escape from a Train.
529
But,
In Ce
rsuit had not been heard si
they died away on the first night, they were now perceived
dicat
ises in
hunt all day, they of course, had no means of knowing.
This practice was success-
ling pu
Homeward Bound.
It is well known that water hides the trail; and our fu-
again.
gitives sought out small streams, that, by wading, they might
cause the hounds to lose the scent.
ful; and when, at daylight, they halted for food and rest, the
hounds had not been heard for hours.
was accomplished that n
though the no
A march of twenty miles
ht.
O”
S
i
Their haste was too great to allow of long halts, and being






530 An Escape from a Train.
now some distance from the point of escape, they judged that
some part of the day might be used for their journey. Accord-
ingly, they traveled through the thick cypress swamps during
the day, and under cover of darkness crossed whatever open
fields might lie in their way. The scanty supply of rations
which they had been able to obtain and carry off unsuspected
was carefully hoarded, for they did not know when or where
they could get more. They dared not go near a house or a town,
for fear of being recaptured.
But like all stores that are not magic, this at last gave out. It
was just one week after their escape that they halted, early in
the morning, to boil the last rations of parched rye which was
the usual substitute in the South, during the war, for coffee. The
scanty breakfast was quickly prepared, and consumed with equal
rapidity; for their appetites were keen, and there was but little
food to satisfy them. The last morsel had disappeared, and each
man was anxiously wondering when, where and how they could
get any more, when a party of armed men were seen running to-
wards them. Thus menaced, they forgot their unsatisfied hun-
ger and their anxiety about food for the future; and beat a re-
treat that was more remarkable for speed than for good order.
They distanced their pursuers, but in their haste they had left
behind them all their few cooking utensils, the tin cups from
which they drank, the knives and forks which they had man-
aged to procure, a towel (their only one) and a box of matches.
When we consider that they had nothing more to cook, the loss
of their utensils and drinking cups does not seem such a hard-
ship; but they seem to have felt it keenly; perhaps because
they hoped to find something. By this loss, and the giving out
of their rations, they were reduced to the necessity of wander-
ing about the woods and fields, looking for edible roots, corn
and berries. .
But though reduced to such straits, they still pressed resolute-
ly onward; until at last, about the first of November, they were
two hundred and fifty miles from the coast. Hunger makes the
wild animals bold, and it was not without its effect on these poor
fugitives, flying from the horrors of a military prison. Stealth-
ily, by night, they approached a group of humble cabins which,
standing within a stone's throw of a comfortable mansion house,
indicated clearly the race by which they were occupied. The
negroes in them were still held to servitude, though many, hear-
An Escape from a Train. 531
ing vague echoes of the “Battle-cry of Freedom,” had es-
caped from the house of bondage. But all were ready and will-
ing to aid those who were fighting for them ; and though the
Federal army had not yet penetrated to this point, they could
show their good-will by ministering to these four soldiers. Corn-
bread, salt, meal, a little bacon, and such other coarse food as
was provided for them, were drawn freely from their scanty
store and bestowed upon the escaped prisoners. They went on
before daybreak, for to have remained would not only have im-
periled their own safety, but would have exposed their kind en-
tertainers to severe punishment.
They were near Dallas, North Carolina, when, on emerging
from a sheltered path, they came full upon a white man. So
suddenly did the meeting occur, that they absolutely had no
means of avoiding it; and they wisely concluded to make the
best of an unfortunate circumstance. A guarded conversation
began, in which each endeavored to find out about the other be-
fore revealing himself. After much beating about the bush, they
were driven by desperation to tell who they were, and to throw
themselves upon the mercy of the stranger.
“Well, I kind of thought you were Union soldiers, but I didn’t
like to ask you outright. I’m a Union man myself, and have to
be mighty careful what I do and say, for my neighbors are all
red hot Rebels, and won’t stand any nonsense.”
“A Union man l’’ they exclaimed, in joyful surprise. It was
more than they had hoped for. The utmost that they had ex-
pected was that he would be moved to pity by their defenseless
condition, and would not inform the Confederate authorities in
Dallas of their whereabouts. As it was, he insisted that they
should permit him to entertain them, and conducted them, by a
circuitous route that skirted the town, to his residence, two miles
away. He could not keep them long, for his loyalty to the
United States was suspected by his Secessionist neighbors; nor
could he fit them out as completely as he wished, for supplies
of all kinds were hard to obtain; but he gave them what he had,
and directed them to the houses of others whom he knew to be
Union men, so that they no longer felt that they were as friend-
less as the Ishmaelites.
They crossed the Catawba near Lovelady Ford, being set over
the river by one of the men to whom their Dallas friend had
recommended them ; and once across this stream, their party
34 - -
532 An Escape from a Train.
began to increase. There were, in this section of the country,
many men who, having been drafted into the Confederate army,
and having become disgusted very soon with the scant rations
and plentiful work, had deserted on the first occasion that offer-
ed. There were others who had never made any secret of their
anti-secession opinions, and who had, by reason of their Union-
ism, been forced to leave home, in order to escape the persecu-
tion of their Secessionist neighbors. Others still had a natural
leaning towards an adventurous and lawless life. Men of these
three classes made up an extensive body, not only in that sec-
tion, but in all parts of the border between the North and the
South, generally known as the “lyers out.” As the presence of
four Union soldiers, escaped from a Southern prison, became
known, these men flocked from all directions to see and talk
with the fugitives. Outlawed in their own section by popular
opinion, these men had nothing but disgrace and perhaps death
to expect from the Confederate Government; they dared not
visit their homes; what property they had had was wasted by
the Southern army, as that of an enemy; and they were easily
induced to accompany the escaped prisoners to the Federal lines,
there to enlist in the United States Army.
The party of four was by this means increased to nearly a hun-
dred; and although the danger of recapture was materially les-
sened, the new recruits were so poorly provided, not only with
military supplies, but even with the necessities of life, that the
hardships that they must endure were much increased. They
were far from having a sufficiency of food, and at times were
nearly perishing for the lack of it. Occasionally, Major Davis,
who was an experienced hunter, would shoot a bear or a wild
hog ; but game was scarce, and the carcass of one animal was
consumed long before another could be killed. -
IIope sustained them, however, through many hardships; but
it was a hope not destined to be realized at any early day. Like
the will-o'-the-wisp that lures the traveler onward step by step,
so the expectation of reaching the Federal lines at no distant
period encouraged them in their long and painful march over
the Blue Ridge; until it seemed that, like the will-o'-the-wisp,
the hope was to fail them at last. As they advanced, they learn-
ed that the Federal forces were at Bull Gap; and they pushed
rapidly forward from Crab Orchard, East Tennessee, toward
that point. But as they were descending Big Butt Mountain,
An Escape from a Train. 533
they heard, in the valley of the Cumberland, the thunder of dis-
tant cannon. Far off, almost on the horizon, they could see the
smoke of battle. Anxiously, from their perch on the mountain
side, did they watch the progress of the conflict. The dim cloud
that meant so much moved away, and they knew that Gillem
had been defeated by Breckinridge, and was retreating to Knox-
ville.
It was the last straw, and it broke the camel’s back. As that
dim cloud of battle-smoke faded away, their hopes faded with it.
With a sullen patience that was born of despair, they made the
usual preparations for encamping for the night. They gathered
around the camp-fire, closely, for the night was cold, and their
clothes were worn and thin, many of them ragged and tattered.
As a matter of habit, they wrapped themselves in whatever ap-
proach to a blanket each might possess, and lay down. Happi-
ly for them, as one man thought, all but himself could, in sleep,
forget the “cares which infest the day.” That one man was Gen.
Drake, whose anxiety was such that he could not sleep. All
through the long night he sat beside the fire on a log, turning
over in his mind the situation in which they were placed, and
the probabilities of getting out of it.
The hours passed slowly on, and towards morning, worn out
by the fatigues through which he had passed, the officer fell into
a light doze. Everything was quiet in that camp on the side of
the mountain ; not even the sentinel’s tread to and fro disturb-
ed the silence; for the men had all been worn out by the day’s
journey, and no part of the Confederate army was in the neigh-
borhood. Only the gleam of the fire-light, as the blaze rose and
fell, indicated that was a living picture.
Suddenly the silence was broken by a wild, irregular yell,
from more than a hundred rough and hairy throats, and the
crack of as many carbines ; while the hoofs of horses clattered
over the frozen ground into the very midst of the sleeping men.
It was an element on which they had not reckoned this night,
though often before evading this very force of guerillas. As it
was, the surprise was complete. No resistance could be offered,
and fortunate indeed were they who could escape from the glare
of the camp fire to the intense darkness which was everywhere
outside that circle of light.
Among those who escaped thus from the guerillas was Gen.
Drake himself. Awakened by the first sound, the assailants were
534 An Escape from a Train.
&
already in the midst of the camp, so sudden was the attack.
Barefooted and bareheaded, he sprang away, and managed to es-
cape to the outer darkness. The ground was white with frost,
and the air as cold as mountain air in November can be. His
feet were soon torn by the hard, frozen ground, and while thus
softened, a large splinter of wood entered his heel. He sat down,
in order to remove this ; and once having given up flight, felt
hopeless. He was but half-clad in bitterly cold weather; he was
utterly alone in a hostile country; unarmed amid a host of foes;
The Surprise.
the darkness that surrounded him seemed to envelop, not only
his whole future, but the fate of the friends who had been his
companions during the perilous journey.
As he sat thus, in the silence, while the dim gray daylight was
growing brighter and brighter around him, and he still mused
despondently, voices were heard afar off, gradually coming near-
er and nearer. He sat still, caring little if they were foes; for
after the hard struggle to reach the Federal lines, he had at last
despaired. The voices became more distinct, and at last the sound
of their footsteps on the frozen ground became audible. In an-
other moment the party came in sight of the lonely, despairing
lºan, and rushed forward to greet him. It was a number of the

An Escape from a Train. 535
men who had followed him to enlist in the United States Army.
Maj. Davis was at the head of this party, but the others who had
escaped from the train, Captains Todd and Grant, were enrolled
among the “missing.”
The fact that they had passed through the morning's attack in
safety seemed to inspire the survivors with new hope ; or per-
haps with a new dread of meeting the fate of their late comrades.
At any rate, the sullen despair of the night before had vanished;
and although they dropped a soldier's tear for those who had
fallen before they could strike a blow for the Union, they de-
termined to enter the ranks of the Federal Army or fall as these
had done.
It was a long and tedious journey, lasting a full week, but at
last the sadly diminished party arrived at Knoxville, and ac-
complished the object of its desires. The last Thursday in that
month of November, 1864, was indeed a Thanksgiving Day to
them, if to no one else, for on that day they enjoyed rest and
freedom from want and suffering inexpressible.
£HAPTER LXIII.
A RAID FOR HORSES.
A Mount Wanted — A Chance to Get One — Bad Weather—“A Thrifle Near-
er”—A Little too Near—Success—A Brick—A Charge and a Chase—A Fall
on the Ice—Another Prisoner—Riding Double—An Affecting (?) Farewell-
Bad Luck — A Call on the Ladies—War Toilets —The Dinner They Miss-
ed—The Dinner They Didn't Miss–A Good Time— A Rude Awakening—
Captured — Well Guarded —“Good Night”— A Prearranged Signal—“He
Hasn't Escaped, but He's Going to’’—And He Does — Chasing a Riderless
Horse — The Rider Escapes on Foot — Gen. Sherman's Opinion on Horses
and a Soldier's Mode of Procuring Them.
66 ELL you what, I’d like to have another horse.”
T “Why, what's the matter with the one you have 7 You
used to brag a heap on him.”
“So I do still, only it isn’t brag—not by a long shot. But I’m
afraid he’ll get killed, and then where’ll I be’”
“Ye might be on yer fate and then agin ye moughtn't.”
“Why, where else should I be, O'Brien, if my horse was kill-
ed ?” ---
“You might be killed, too, and it’s meself wouldn’t loike to be
sayin’ where ye would be thin. That's a matter for you to set-
tle with yer own sowl.” -
“Well, Lewis,” interposed the second speaker, “I don’t know
but I’d like to have a remount myself. Let's get one ; what do
you say?”
“But where 7 That's what is bothering me,” answered Lew-
ºf
1S. -
“There was a Federal raid towards Gordonsville—didn’t you,
hear of it?” pursued the second, who may as well be here intro-
duced as Private Channing Spith, of Col. Mosby's command.
“Yes—they started back to-day. But that was a big force.”
536
"A Raid for Horses. 537
“Yes, too big for us to attack; but we might pick up some
stragglers. When they’ve been on a raid they don't always keep
strict line, you know. Discipline is apt to be lax.” -
“Think the colonel would let us go?” asked Lewis.
... “The colonel likes fun too well himself to want to keep others
from having it,” put in O’Brien.
The Irishman was right about it ; no difficulty was experi-
enced in getting permission to go, and the three men set out on .
an expedition which seems, to us in these cool days of peace, ab-
solutely foolhardy. As Lewis and Smith had both said, the force
of Federal raiders was a large one; and they could not tell but
what, on approaching the column, they might be captured ; as
vessels which venture too near a whirlpool are sucked into the
vortex and lost in the waters. Nevertheless, they set out, rid-
ing through a yellow winter fog so dense they could hardly dis-
tinguish one object from another at a distance of fifty yards; and "
over ground covered with a coating of ice, as thick and smooth,
almost, as a plate-glass mirror. The sleet which had thus cov-
ered the ground had indeed ceased to fall, but that was the only
good thing to be said of the weather; and satisfaction on that
head was much marred by thinking of the state of affairs under-
foot.
But though they could not see the enemy at any considerable
distance, they could hear the tread of the horses’ hoofs from afar
off, rattling on the ice-covered road. When such sounds gave
warning, then, that they were nearing the highway along which
the Federals would pass, the Warrenton and Bethel road, they
halted until the main column should have gone by. Then, with
the principal force out of hearing, they might fall upon the
stragglers in the rear of the column. They were so near that
they could hear the successful raiders laughing and talking as
they rode onward. *
“Och, we’ll not be getting any of thim here,” exclaimed
O’Brien, in a tone of disgust. “Let’s be getting a thrifle nearer.”
Without waiting for a reply, he spurred his horse onward,
while the others, nothing loth, followed suit. But their haste
was ill-timed, for they were discovered by a considerable body
of Federals, and saluted with a shower of random shots. The
bullets passed harmlessly over their heads, and the Confeder-
ates, wheeling their horses, retreated with more haste than
valor. Then ensued an exciting race, as eight or ten of the Fed-
* -
538 A Raid for Horses.
erals, divining the true state of affairs, dashed after the flying
gray-jackets. The fog was so thick and yellow that the fugi-
tives could not be discerned ; the clatter of the horses’ hoofs
over the ice-covered ground was the only guide that the pur-
suers had. As for the Confederates,
“They stayed not for brake, and they stopped not for stone.”
And the Federals finally gave up the chase in despair.
Finding that they were no longer pursued, the three Rebs re-
turned to the neighborhood of the road, hoping that by that time
the main column would be well past, and that they might carry out
their original plans without any such interruption as the recent
race. They had not gone far down the road, when they met a
party of five Yanks riding leisurely along, two of whom led each
a second horse. This was the prize for which they had been
looking. Charging suddenly from the undergrowth beside the
road into the very heart of the squad, the Confederates gave
that unearthly screech then famous as the “Rebel yell.” The
blue-coats, confused by the suddenness of the onslaught, were
unable to defend themselves; indeed, they were not certain but
that a whole company had charged upon them ; and although
their hands instinctively sought their revolvers, the weapons
were drawn only to be given up to their captors.
“We’ll have to give it up, now, I reckon, and take our prison-
ers in,” said Private Lewis.
“It’s an awful shame, too, for my horse is as fresh as a daisy,
to say nothing of the rider,” answered Private Smith. -
“So is mine, for that matter,” rejoined the first speaker, “and
if you can suggest a better plan, I’ll be only too glad to put it
into execution.”
“I was out on picket-duty last night,” said Private O’Brien,
“and I don’t care for any more fun ; so if you’re wanting the
prisoners tuk to the rear, I’m your man.”
“O’Brien, you’re a jewel of the first-water ſ” exclaimed Smith,
his whole face expressing gratitude.
“A regular brick,” added Lewis.
“It’s the first time in me life I ever heard a brick was a jewel,
but I’ll take your word for it.” -
“Well, you see, I didn’t want to call you an emerald, for fear
the prisoners would think you were green.”
“They’d soon find out the differ. But good-bye; and good
luck to you!”
A Raid for Horses. 539
“Good-bye—and thank you for any luck we may have. You
shall have your full share of the booty.”
“Yes, you can count on that.”
The two parties rode off in different directions; O'Brien, with
the prisoners, to Mosby's main camp ; the other two in search
of farther adventures. It may as well be said here that the gal-
lant Irishman reached his destination safely, with all the pris-
oners and horses committed to his charge; such a thing being
made possible only by the most ceaseless vigilance on his part.
Feeling assured from what they had themselves seen that they
would meet only with small parties of the enemy, they rode on
boldly toward Warrenton. They were within three miles of
that place when they saw, riding quietly along the road, with-
out any appearance of haste, three blue-coated cavalrymen. A
little closer inspection showed that two of the three were white
men, while the other was one of those proverbial during the
war as having “fought nobly.” Dashing upon these as in the
former case, their demand for a surrender met with no response
in words; the actions expressed a most decided negative. There
were some shots exchanged, but without injury on either side ;
and in a few moment’s time, the Federals wheeled their horses
and galloped away, closely followed by the Confederates.
For a mile they dashed onward, uphill and downhill, over
plowed fields and through thickets; clearing the fences with-
out a pause to think of the odds. But the horses of the Feder-
als were fatigued by their recent trip, and the pursuers steadily
gained upon the fugitives. In order to complicate the chase, the
blue-coats scattered ; and the gray-jackets, quick to perceive the
intention, separated, Smith pursuing the negro, and Lewis the
two whites. If the superior freshness of the horse he rode had
given him the advantage before, it now enabled Smith to lessen
the distance still more rapidly between himself and his game.
Shot after shot was fired at the dodging fugitive, the last when
he was not more than two yards away.
“Surrender l’’ cried Smith, his still smoking revolver aimed at
the negro's head as he rode forward. But just as the Confeder-
ate reached out to catch the bridle-rein, his own horse slipped
and fell on the icy road, carrying the rider heavily to the earth.
The Federal’s horse, startled by the sudden jerk of the rein,
plunged wildly ; and the negro, already mortally wounded and
scarcely able to keep his seat, rolled helplessly from the saddle.
540 A Raid for Horses.
But Lewis had been less fortunate in his pursuit; his game
had well-nigh escaped his clutches, when he saw the mishap of
his friend. Fearing that the negro had obtained the mastery,
he hastened back; though the fog had cleared away somewhat,
it was still so dense that he did not see the true state of affairs
until within a few yards of the scene ; for Smith was so entan-
gled in the stirrups that he would have fared badly in case his
enemy had been less helpless. It was not until Lewis had al-
most reached him that he freed himself and sprang to his feet.
Thus they failed to take alive any one of these three ; the col-
ored soldier having been killed, while the white men escaped.
Riding on, somewhat chagrined by the failure, it was fully
half an hour before another opportunity offered itself. The en-
emy then was represented by two cavalrymen, from whom they
were separated only by a fence and some twenty yards of field.
The Federals had ridden up to the bars which separated the cul-
tivated ground from the road, and were about to let them down;
probably intending to look for a house at which they could get
dinner; when the Confederates dashed at them, shouting a de-
mand to surrender. The answer came readily enough—a pistol-
shot; to which the attacking party replied without delay. In
the brisk little battle which ensued, the horse of one of the Fed-
erals was shot. The rider sprang to the ground and was about
to fight on foot, when his companion, thinking himself left alone
to resist two, wheeled his horse and galloped off. Thus desert-
ed, the dismounted trooper could only surrender; and the pris-
oner was carried off in triumph.
But they were not to proceed far with him. The firing had
alarmed a considerable body of Federals that was coming down
the road, and the trooper who had left them in such haste had
hurried back to this force. His story was soon told ; how much
his excited imagination added to the truth is not certain ; but no
less than one hundred men were detailed to put the host of Con-
federates to flight. As the latter rode off with their prisoner,
wondering how they could dispose of him in such a way as to
permit “more fun,” they heard the clatter of hoofs behind them.
Nearer and nearer they came ; the prisoner, who, by reason of
lack of horses, had been obliged to ride double with Lewis, and
had, therefore, no chance of escape, felt his heart beat hard. He
looked back. Behind Smith, who acted as rear-guard, was the
bluish mass that told him his comrades were coming to his
A Raid for Horses. 541
rescue. Tewis and Smith looked back, too, but to them the
prospect was less cheerful. There was a moment’s consultation;
then they stopped, and Lewis addressed the prisoner:
“I’m very sorry we can’t have the pleasure of your company
any longer, but my horse can’t make good time when he carries
double. There are your friends; you’d better wait until they
come up; we can’t very well do so. Good bye.”
“Good bye,” answered the late prisoner; “I can’t say I’m sor-
ry to leave you, but I wish you’d let me introduce you to my
friends.”
But the offer was declined with a laugh, as the two Confeder-
ates rode off at full speed, followed by the Federals for a short
distance. But the latter soon gave up the chase, as they were
somewhat disgusted as soon as they found how small a party
they had been sent to pursue. Safely out of reach of the enemy,
Lewis and Smith began to discuss their adventures.
“I never saw so much bad luck,” grumbled Lewis; “three of
us, and only five prisoners and seven horses to show for our
leave of absence from camp. It’s too bad.”
“Yes,” assented Smith; “and the worst of it is, we haven’t
accomplished a thing since O’Brien went back. There were at
least five of them that we ought to have had ; but the darkey got
killed, and we had to leave one, and the others got away.”
“I tell you,” said Lewis, suddenly struck by a happy thought,
“there won’t be any more Feds along, I reckon ; let’s go home
and see the folks at Cedar Hill.”
“I don’t look very nice”— began the other.
“O, a uniform is better than any other kind of clothes, in
their eyes. Besides, the girls will be dressed in homespun ; so
they’ll call it square. Bless you, my boy, they’ll be so glad to
see us they won’t give a second thought to our appearance.”
“It wasn’t the clothing so much as a general untidiness. Let’s
stop and make our toilets at the spring in ’s field.”
The suggestion was adopted ; the powder-stains were washed
off, the worn gray uniforms brushed as well as circumstances
would allow—they had neither bristle brush or whisk—and they
rode on to the house. As Lewis had predicted, his mother and
sisters looked not at the Outer man, but welcomed the soldier son
and his companion most heartily. The homespun dresses, dyed
a dark brown with walnut-hulls, were freshened up with
ribbons which in better days had been discarded; but which,
542 A Raid for Horses.
when new ones became unattainable, had been eagerly hunted
up, and washed and ironed for future use. Their shoes had been
fashioned from bits of cloth by their own nimble fingers; the
soles of those bought “before the War” doing duty a second time,
perhaps even oftener. They wore no jewelry, for not only would
it have been most inappropriate to their present costumes, but
they dared not display it, lest it be taken from them by the
strong hand of the bushwhacker.
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The Toilet.
“I declare, it's too bad,” said Mrs. Lewis, after the first wel-
comings were over, being, like a good housewife, “on hospitable
thoughts intent.” “If you had come a day or so sooner I’d have
had a real nice dinner for you; but there were fifteen Yankees
here for dinner yesterday, and they ate up nearly everything on
the place.”
“Don’t let that trouble you, ma'am,” returned Smith. “We
only intended to make a short call.”
“Indeed, you shall not leave the house to-night. But I had
such nice mince pies. Currants and raisins are not to be had,
of course, but I used some cherries I dried last summer, and
you’d have been surprised at the result. The Feds even made
me cook my Christmas turkey, that I had hung out to freeze.”
“Why, did they stop so long?” asked her son, in surprise.
“O, they sent word that they’d be here; and the two who










































A Raid for Horses. 543
brought the message ordered the bill of fare. But I can give you
some good coffee—not made out of rye—and I know that that
will be a luxury.”
“I’ve most forgotten how the real article tastes, we’ve been
drinking the rye so long.”
“Well, this isn’t really Rio or Java; it's nothing more than
sweet potatoes, cut up and browned, and then used just like cof-
fee-grains; but you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. Then
it don’t need any sugar, either, and that’s an advantage nowa-
days.” -
The table was soon spread with what seemed, to the half fam-
ished soldiers, a veritable feast; and not only did hunger make
it seem better than it was, but the fact that it was not camp cook-
ing rendered it more palatable. Adepts as the ladies had become
in the art of concealing portables, many things had escaped the
sharp eyes of the Federals. One of the much-vaunted mince pies
was produced from the recesses of a pile of milk-pans; the re-
mains of the turkey, scant as they were, had been skillfully pre-
pared for use; the corn-bread was yellow with the treasures of
hidden nests that could not be found when their contents were
required by the enemy; while broiled chicken and ham adorned
the end of the board.
The evening passed merrily, for the soldiers did not need much
pressing to be induced to remain. But song and story were end-
ed at last, and at a late hour the party separated for the night;
the two soldiers being lodged in one room. After their day’s
hard riding, they slept well. The night wore on, and the “wee,
sma' hours” had come. The clock marked three in the morning
when the tired slumberers were aroused by a tremendous knock-
ing, seemingly at all the outer doors of the house.
“Open the doors, or we’ll batter them down ſ” cried a dozen
stern voices; and, as if in fulfillment of the threat, the knocking,
which had ceased for the moment, recommenced. Broad awake
at once, as became soldiers, the two guests held a hurried coun-
cil of war. {
“The house is surrounded by Yankees.”
“What are we to do ’’’
“The roof of the porch is just under this window; we might
get out on that.”
“Yes, the night is dark enough to shelter us; but what after
we get on the porch 7 They seem to be in the yard all around
544 A Raid for Horses.
the house. There don’t seem much chance of escape, I fear.”
“We could lie close up to the wall—the roof is flat—and wait
until they give up the search.”
“All right, then. I reckon we'd better take one pistol apiece
with us.”
“Yes; we can throw the rest under the bed. Are you ready ?”
“Yes; come on.”
The window was cautiously opened, and shielded by the in-
tense darkness of the night, they stepped out upon the roof.
“Surrounded by Kankees tº
There was an element, however, which had not entered into
their calculations—the tin roof was covered with ice, and it was
impossible for them to walk without noise. The sound of their
footsteps was at once heard by the enemy in the yard below.
Instantly there were thirty or forty shots fired at them, and as
many voices called upon them to surrender.
“I reckon we'll have to,” said Smith in a low tone to Lewis,
who assented; the former then called:
“All right; here's my pistol; catch it somebody.”
He tossed his pistol downward, not without a grim hope that
it might fall on somebody’s head; a hope, however, that was des-
tined to disappointment. The doors of the house had by this
time been opened, and an officer, followed by an orderly carrying
- -

A Raid for Horses. 545
a light, had made his way to the bedroom lately occupied by the
two Confederates. To him, accordingly, as the representative
of a company of the Eighth Illinois Cavalry, they surrendered.
Upon the parting, so strangely contrasting with the innocent,
light-hearted gayety of the evening, we need not dwell. There
were enough tears lavished upon the son and brother, enough
prayers sent after him, to serve the stranger too. But the leave-
taking was cut short by the captors, who were not altogether cruel
in doing so. To their great joy, the two prisoners found that
their own horses had been saddled for them, though they gave no
vent to their feelings, and forbore to boast that the animals were
remarkable for speed and bottom. But the Federals arranged
things so carefully that escape seemed impossible. There were
several other companies at the barn, beside the one which had
surrounded the house, and the prisoners were placed in the cen-
tre of the long column; a man on either side to prevent escape
in that direction.
“Can’t some of you give me a spur 7” pleaded Smith; “I’m
afraid I can’t keep up, this old horse of mine is so nearly played
out.”
There was not a word vouchsafed in answer, and he went on :
“It’s one of your own broken-down cavalry horses, so you may
be sure he don’t amount to much. Say, Mrs. Lewis haven’t you
got any stray spurs that you can let me have 7”
“I’m afraid not, Mr. Smith; the house has been pretty well
emptied of everything that could be useful to a soldier.”
“Well, I suppose he’ll go until he stops; then you’ll have to
give me another, or let me go.” *
Still there was no reply from the persons to whom the last re-
marks were addressed ; and the column moved on. Be it under-
stood that, in thus underrating his good steed, Smith was not
insulting his captors’ knowledge of horseflesh; it must be re-
membered that it was between three and four o’clock on the
morning of Dec. 27th, and the weather was cloudy. They had
not gone far when a long-armed Yankee, having seen by the
lights at the house that Smith wore a really good hat, and
knowing that his own had seen its best days, reached over, and
suiting the action to the word, said:
“Hi, Johnny, let's swap hats.”
“See here,” retorted Smith, you've no business to do that, if
I am a prisoner in the hands of your regiment.”
546 A Raid for Horses.
“Business or no business,” answered the captor, “how are you
going to help yourself?”
“I’m going to get away, the first opportunity I see, or know
the reason why,” thought Smith; but he answered never a word,
for to say so much aloud would, of course, have prevented the
occurrence of any such opportunity. The Federals, doubtless,
suspected that both their prisoners held such intentions, and
maintained, for many miles, a ceaseless vigilance; but the Con-
federates, aware that they would be closely guarded at first,
made no attempt to escape. When he saw, however, that the
guard beside him, weary with the night ride, was almost nod-
ding in his saddle, Smith swerved suddenly to the right, and
dashing past the drowsy blue-coat, called, “Good-night,” mock-
ingly, and was off towards the mountains. Every man in the
column was wide awake in an instant, and a shower of bullets sent
after him, almost before the sound of his voice had reached their
ears. But the horse which had lately figured as a broken-down
nag, thrown aside as useless by the Federal cavalry, now devel-
oped a mettle most extraordinary for such an animal. Faster
and faster he went, hardly needing the digging of his rider’s
boot-heels into his sides, as he heard the whistling of bullets, the
reports of pistols, the shouting, the clatter of hoofs behind him.
The fugitive gained rapidly on his pursuers, until a ditch was
reached. The spirited horse gathered his strength for the leap,
and plunged forward ; but he slipped upon the icy ground, and
rolled over. As the animal fell, Smith, more fortunate than
when in pursuit of the negro, sprang from the saddle, and pur-
sued his journey on foot.
The Eighth, or that portion of it which had joined in the pur-
suit, was nearly up when Smith's horse fell; but the obscurity
of the night favored his concealment. They did not find, until
they were nearly on the edge of the ditch, that he had been dis-
mounted, and after searching several of the neighboring thick-
ets, they returned to the main column. Meantime, Smith was
making his way, by a roundabout road, back to Cedar hill; con-
jecturing that the house where he had been captured would be
the safest place possible, as they would not think of looking for
him there. By a strange coincidence, the talk the evening be-
fore had turned upon the danger of approaching the house with-
out knowing that the house was clear; and Mrs. Lewis' mother-
ly heart was filled with terror as she thought of the danger into
*
A Raid for Horses. 547
which her son and his friend would have run, had they come the
day before.
“We ought to have some sort of a signal, by which you could
call any one of us out to tell you,” suggested one of the young
ladies.
“‘Whistle and I’ll come to you, my lad,’” quoted another, by
way of suggestion.
“All right,” answered the brother, “let it be a whistle. But
what tune 7 “ Dixie ’7”
“No, that might be suspected if there was any one here. Let
it be some old tune—‘Bonnie Doon,’ for instance—that’s neutral.”
So it was agreed upon that “Bonnie Doon,” softly whistled at a
certain point, should be the signal for one of them to go there.
They little thought that the appointed sign of communication
would be so soon found useful. It was about dawn on that
winter morning, when the notes of the old song were heard.
Distressed by the capture of their son and brother, the ladies
had not attempted to sleep again, but had gathered cheerlessly
in the sitting-room. The effect of the whistle was magical.
“Girls, girls,” remonstrated the mother; “we mustn't all go.
Let one go out and bring him in very quietly. We don’t know
how near the Feds may be.”
They had all sprung from their seats by a common impulse,
but now paused, a little impatiently, until she should select one
for the pleasing duty. The chosen messenger lost no time
on the way, it may well be believed ; but her triumph on
her return was less than it would have been had her compan-
ion been the other prisoner. But disappointed as they were,
they bravely smothered all expression of it as they welcomed
the fugitive.
“I expect Richard will be along here in a little while,” the
new comer announced, as soon as the excitement had somewhat
subsided.
“O, will he 7 Did he escape, too 7” queried all in chorus.
“N—no,” he had to admit, “he hasn’t escaped yet, but he's go-
ing to.”
His tone was so confident that it reassured them, in spite of
their anxiety; and they were soon eagerly questioning him as
to the mode of his escape; keeping one ear open, meanwhile, to
hear “Bonnie Doon” as soon as it should be again whistled. But
while Mr. Smith relates how he got away, and calmed the fears
35
548 A Raid for Horses.
of the ladies, let us return to the beloved object of their anxiety.
“You’d better not make any movement that looks like trying
to escape,” said the soldier beside him to Lewis, as Smith dash-
ed off; “just as soon as I see any sign of it, I’ll blow your brains
out.”
“O, it’s a hopeless case for me,” returned Tewis, with a sigh,
“crippled as I am. My knee-pan was shattered by a Minie-ball
in the Wilderness, and it’s all I can do to get around.”
Thus reassured, the guard paid but little further attention to
Lewis, being absorbed in the chase of the escaped prisoner. But
sº
* *, *2
933 º,? .
i
tithiuſ:
The Signal—“Bonnie Doon.”
the officer in charge of the force was more attentive to his duty,
and two men were posted, one on each side of the prisoner, each
with a drawn pistol in his hand, having orders to fire in case of
any suspicious movement. In vain did Lewis repeat his story
of an injured knee; a ruse upon which he had decided as soon
as he saw that he must be captured, and that he had been care-
ful to act out. Whether they believed the story or not does
not appear; but certainly they were not induced by it to relax
their attentions to the remaining prisoner,

A Raid for Horses. 549.
Smith had bolted just after the command had passed Little
Georgetown. From that point they had ridden towards the
plains, and having reached the line of the Manassas Railroad,
had crossed Broad Run on the railway bridge, and turned to the
left towards Hopewell Gap. Every moment the chances were
growing less and less, for every moment they were drawing
nearer to the Federal camp. As they turned to the right, Lewis
spurred suddenly to the left, and was fifty yards away before
even his special guards took in the situation. The whole force
dashed after him in the wildest disorder, for to have both the
prisoners escape was a thing not to be quietly borne. Lewis’
horse gave every promise of distancing the pursuers, when, in
crossing a swampy place, he failed to find the solid road, and
sank to the saddle girths. Seeming to understand the perilous
situation of his rider, the animal floundered about in the mud,
trying to free himself and to find a firmer foothold.
Every moment the host of pursuers was getting nearer and
nearer; if, in a moment, the horse cannot extricate himself, the
soldier knows he will be recaptured. Yet the horse, in spite of
all his efforts, must fail; so Lewis quietly slips from the saddle,
and crouches in a laurel thicket nearby. The horse, relieved of
his rider’s weight, struggles to better advantage, and is free be-
fore the pursuers have approached close enough to see that the
saddle is empty. Once out of the mud hole, the horse almost
flew up the railroad, followed hotly by the whole body of Fed-
erals; his pace by no means the slower by reason of the bullets
that whistled over his head, the bullets fired at the rider who
was not in the saddle. At last, however, they were obliged to
give up the chase, for their own animals had the disadvantage
of being each burdened with a rider.
Meanwhile, Lewis lay in the laurels, anxiously waiting until
the sound of hoofs should die away. As they grew fainter and
fainter, he came out of his hiding-place and bent his steps to-
wards Cedar Hill, where he arrived safely some two hours after
Smith got there. Whether or not the Federals ever knew why
that horse could run so fast, is a matter on which history is silent,
nor is it recorded how long they continued the chase. Both
horses made their way to a point on Pignut Mountain, at which
their masters had often camped, and were found there a few
hours later, none the worse for their early morning race.
Smith and Lewis left Cedar Hill for the second time that
550 A Raid for Horses.
morning, under less sorrowful auspices, and returned safely to
camp, to divide the horses they had captured, and to recount to
their comrades, beside the camp-fire, the adventures of the day
and night.
MoTE.—To those who are sticklers for the observance of law,
the project of the three men whose adventures are above rela-
ted may seem to be pure horse stealing ; such as, in the opinion
of our brethren of the Far West, is best rewarded by a hempen
necktie fastened with a slip-knot. For the benefit of such per-
sons as would make the soldier, in time of war, subject to the
same code as the citizen in time of peace, we append the letter
of the present General of the Army, written in reply to the com-
plaint of a Confederate clergyman :
ATLANTA, GA., Sept. 16, 1864.
“Foy. , Confederate Army:
“DEAR SIR: Your letter of Sept. 14th, is received. I approach a question involv-
ing the title of a horse with great diffidence; for the laws of war—that mysterious
code of which we talk so much and know so little, are remarkably silent on the horse.
He is a beast so tempting to the soldier, to him of wild cavalry, the fancy artillery, or
the patient infantry, that I find more difficulty in recovering a worthless, spavined
beast than in paying a million of greenbacks; so I fear I must reduce your claim to
one of finance, and refer you to the Board of Claims in Washington. That may
reach your case by the time that your grandchild becomes a great grandfather.
“Privately, I think it was a shabby thing in the scamp of the Thirty-first Missouri
who took your horse, and the Colonel or his Brigadier should have returned him;
but I cannot undertake to make good the sins of omission of my own Colonels or
Brigadiers, much less of those of a former generation. “When this cruel war is
over,’ and peace once more gives you a parish, I will promise, if near you, to procure
out of one of Uncle Sam's corrals a beast that will replace the one taken from you so
wrongfully. But now 'tis impossible. We have a big journey before us, and will
need all we have, and, I fear, more too; so look out when the Yankees are about and
hide your beasts, for my experience is, that all soldiers are very careless in a search
for title.
“I know General Hardee will confirm this my advice.
“With great respect, yours truly,
“WM. T. SHERMAN, Major-General.”
ſhares LXIV.
CAPTURE AND FLIGHT OF CORRESPONDENTS.
The Newspaper Man—Running the Confederate Batteries at Wicksburg—Captured—
Libby—Plans to Escape—Castle Thunder—Salisbury—Hurry Up—Change in
Management—A Forged Pass—Another Plan—An Apologetic Guard—Past the
Outer Guards—Prudent Halt—The Gray Mare—Cold Weather—Sable Friends
—Losing the Way—“The Old United States”—“Nobody Ever Gits Thar”—
The March across the Mountains—Dan Ellis, the Famous Guide—Generous
Enemies—Danger Threatens—A Pretty Guide—The Federal Pickets.
HE enterprise of the American newspaper man is passing
T into a proverb; he will have news at any price ; and in
times of great public excitement he is half-wild with anxiety
lest a rival get later or more of the precious commodity than he
and his assistants. The ambition extends down to the very
newsboys — shall we wonder, then, to find it existing in the
breasts of the War Correspondents of highly esteemed journals 7
To the latter class belong the three gentlemen whose adven-
tures are now to follow : Messrs. A. D. Richardson, J. H.
Browne, and R. T. Colburn ; the latter representing the New
York World, and his companions, the Tribune. Arriving at Milli-
ken's Bend, twenty-five miles above Vicksburg, they found that
the memorable siege of that city had already begun. Gen.
Grant's headquarters were at Grand Gulf, seventy miles below
the point at which they had just arrived, and they determined
to complete their journey without delay. The overland trip re-
quired three days; that by water eight hours. But the differ-
ence of time seems, at this distance, to have been more than
counterbalanced by the difference in danger. The land route
was infested by guerillas, as were all the roads of the seat of
war; men were Northern or Southern in sentiment, according
551
552 Capture and Flight of the Correspondents.
as Northern or Southern soldiers offered themselves as prey;
but the boats would be exposed to the fire from the batteries of
the besieged city. But what of that? Time was precious. For
some days Gen. Grant had been receiving his supplies by this
short route, as it was called, and fully three-fourths of the boats
had got through safely. A difference of more than sixty hours
would be of great importance to the papers to which they trans-
mitted news. -
When, therefore, they learned that an expedition was to set
out on the night of May 3d, they determined to join it. The
previous trips had been made when the moon gave little or no
light, but on this particular night it shone with full glory. In-
deed, as they found after starting, the expedition seemed de-
signed to tempt the Confederates. The hay lay loosely over the
bales, over the deck, over everything; a spark from their own
tug might ignite it; there were but two buckets for use in such
a case; and if they failed to extinguish the hay before it had set
fire to the barges, there was not a skiff in which the men on
board might escape.
It was ten o’clock when the little tug steamed away from Mil-
liken's Bend, a huge barge, loaded with forage and provisions,
on either side; while thirty-five men formed the crew, defend-
ers and passengers. Down the broad, turbid Mississippi, hug-
ging the shore as closely as may be, not only to avoid the snags
and sandbars which threaten them when out of the channel,
which then lay near the shore, but that by keeping such a course
they might screen themselves, partially, at least, by the dense
overhanging foliage.
For three hours they steamed quietly along, and still the
moonlight lay peacefully on the broad yellow waters. Sudden-
ly a rocket shot up into the air—some Rebel, lurking in the for-
ests that skirt the stream on both banks, took this means of sig-
nalling their presence to his comrades in the city. Scarcely ten
minutes had passed before a shot plunged, hissing and steaming
into the water just before them ; and almost at the same instant
a shell exploded upon one of the barges. Rapidly the deadly
missiles followed; nor was there a chance of getting out of
range; the Confederates were in excellent practice, and the riv-
er winds back and forth so persistently around Wicksburg that
for nearly seven miles it would be impossible to get beyond
range. All along the shore, it seemed, were huge dark caverns,
* .
&
Capture and Flight of the Correspondents, 553
out of which flashed sheets of flame, wierdly illuming the night.
But as time went on, the idea of passing the batteries in safe-
ty was not so hopeless as it had at first seemed. More than two-
thirds of the distance had been passed—two miles farther, and
they would no longer be exposed to the guns. But they had
hardly begun to congratulate themselves on being thus far safe,
when a shell struck the tug, killing its captain and the man at
the wheel; they heard the shriek of the two men as the frag-
ments of shell descended; they heard a huge crash, followed by
a wild yell from the shore. Peering through the shower of cin-
ders and ashes that fell about them, they saw the whirling of
the waters as the tug went down. Nor was this the worst. The
shell which had struck the boiler and caused the explosion of
that, had passed through it into the furnaces, and bursting there,
scattered the fire over the barges. Of course, the loose hay was
soon in a blaze, which it was impossible, despite all their efforts,
to trample out. -
Military discipline was of course at an end ; it was equally im-
possible and unnecessary; the only order to be given was,
“Sauve qui pent”—in plain English, “Take care of yourself.”
Every one busied himself throwing bales of hay into the water
for the assistance of those who could not swim ; for the crew of
the tug and many of the soldiers were in the water, clinging
helplessly to the fragments of the wrecked tug.
From the stern of the barge rose a huge sheet of flame, whose
red glare, mingled with the pale moonlight, gave a ghastly ef-
fect to the whole scene; and, what was far worse, enabled the
gunners to take excellent aim. Between shot and fire, the barges
were rapidly becoming untenable, and those still remaining up-
on them found themselves obliged to adopt the plan of the oth-
ers, and try to navigate on bales of hay. Among these were the
three newspaper men. But there was no chance of escape;
both banks of the river were in the hands of the enemy; the
Rebel pickets were posted for a distance of ten or twelve miles
below—farther than they could hope to be carried by the current
before daylight should expose them to musket-shot. There was
absolutely no hope of escape.
“Hallo, there ! Haven’t you any boats 7”
This came from the shore. The answer in the negative was
followed by a pause in the firing, and the silence of the night
was presently interrupted by the sound of oars. One after an-
554 Capture and Flight of the Correspondents.
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Capture and Flight of the Correspondents. 555
other the floaters were picked up and transferred to the yawl
which the Confederates sent out. When landed, it was found
that eight or ten were missing, sixteen alive and unhurt, and the
remainder scalded or wounded. Many of them, to reduce their
weight as much as possible for swimming, had cast off much of
their clothing as an encumbrance, and now, in the march that
followed, suffered for it. Especially was this the case with those
who had divested themselves of their shoes, as many had done.
They had landed two miles below the city, to which the offi-
cer in command speedily conducted them. Their names register-
ed there by the commander of the City Guard, they were taken
just before daylight, to the city jail. They did not long remain
here, however, being transferred to more pleasant quarters dur-
ing the day, and on Tuesday, being duly paroled, they were put
on board a train bound for Richmond, whence they were to be
exchanged. .
Traveling, though by rail and steamer, at a snail’s pace, it was
eleven days before they reached their destination. They were
taken to Libby, that terror of the Northern soldier, there to re-
main, they could not tell how long. Colburn was almost imme-
diately released, but the other two were regarded with pecu-
liar disfavor as attaches of the Tribune, looked upon as an abo-
lition sheet, and detained in prison ; the authorities refusing to
ratify the act of the agent who had paroled them and promised
that they should be speedily exchanged.
Many were the devices employed here, as in all military pris-
ons, to kill time; reading, studying, carving ornaments from
bones and rubber buttons, playing cards, talking of home, mock
trials, discussing political matters, and so forth ; but chief in in-
terest became planning an escape. Many were the ingenious
devices hit upon by men whom long confinement rendered
desperate; but over the many we have no time to linger; it
must be enough to tell of one. -
More than once the quick-witted Bohemians of the great me-
tropolis had endeavored to escape, but their plans had been dis-
covered too soon, and themselves placed in durance viler than
ever for the attempt. Removed to Castle Thunder, the case
seemed more hopeful than when they were at Libby; but month
after month passed away, and still they were prisoners.
More than a year and half elapsed while they were thus dis-
cussing and trying various plans; meanwhile, as one of them
556 Capture and Flight of the Correspondents.
frankly admits, others who were less ingenious in devising and
less critical in adopting a path to freedom had already escaped.
Removed to Salisbury early in 1864, they did not discontinue
their efforts; but as surely as a plan was adopted and put into
execution, so surely was it frustrated. Tunnels were tried so
often, and discovered when on the eve of completion, that
Browne, never sanguine as to the chance of success, declared :
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Castle Thunde)".
“We’ll never get out that way unless we run a tunnel to Knox-
ville and come to light again inside our lines.”
As Knoxville was two hundred miles away, this was only
another way of saying “impossible.”
At last a better plan was devised. Mr. Wm. E. Davis, of the
Cincinnati Gazette, and Mr. Browne, had been allowed to assist
in the prison hospital, being provided with passes that would
permit them to pass the first line of guards. Theoretically, every
one to whom this extent of liberty was accorded, gave his parole
not to abuse it by attempting to escape; but several officers were
charged with this duty, and, among them, in some way, our two
correspondents were forgotten, and not required to give the
necessary guaranty.
“Tell you what, we’d better hurry up,” was the remark of one,
as he came in from hospital duty on Saturday morning, Dec. 17th.
“Why should we tear ourselves away?” was the reply of one.















































Capture and Flight of the Correspondents. 557
“Gen. Johnson has arrived and is to supersede Major Gee
Monday; he won’t stand any fooling about passes and paroles, I
know.”
“Then we will have to get away”—
“To-morrow. Precisely.”
“But how is Richardson to get out without a pass 7”
This was a poser. So many schemes had been tried in com-
pany, that they felt they could not leave one of their trio be-
hind.
“I’ll make him one,” suggested Browne, at length.
So a good while had to be devoted to preparing the pass, so
difficult is forgery to an unaccustomed hand. In the meantime
another was added to their party: Captain Wolfe; but he was al-
ready provided with the assistant-commandant’s signature, be-
ing another of the hospital assistants.
Sunday morning dawned, cold and rainy.
“Junius,” said Mr. Richardson, “do you know I have my
doubts about using that pass 7 Suppose the guard should take
it into his head to send it up for examination ?”
“Take mine, then ; that's genuine.”
“But what will you do?”
“O, they all know my face—or I can call some one who can
identify me.”
Accordingly, about half an hour before dark, the three hospital
attaches walked boldly past the sentinel. They were compell-
ed to choose so early an hour, because after dark no one, be he
who he may, could pass without the countersign. A few minutes
later, another of the prisoners, accompanied by a boy, and carry-
ing a long box of empty bottles, approached the gate.
“Now I’ll go and get the bottles filled, and you wait here until
I come back; I won’t be gone more than fifteen minutes. I
want you to distribute them among the wards of the hospital.
Don’t go away, now.”
“I won’t, sir,” answered the boy, obediently.
Intending to rely, if possible, upon pure “cheek,” he attempt-
ed to walk boldly past the sentinel in whose hearing and at
whom these words had been spoken ; but was stopped with:
“Have you got a pass!”
“Certainly I have, sir; don’t you know who I am 7 You’ve
seen the pass often enough.”
Somewhat awed by his tone, the soldier replied:
558 Capture and Flight of the Correspondents.
“I suppose I have, sir, but I didn't recognize you at first. You
see, they’re very strict since so many have escaped in that way.”
Fortunately for many, some at least of the soldiers in both
armies were not first-rate scholars; while St. Louis was under
martial law, a certain gentleman, who should have been in the
guard-house, went about his daily avocations, protected by an
old gas bill; and the present sentinel, though this pass bore the
name of Junius H. Browne, whom he had seen go out a few
minutes before, and with whose face he was perfectly familiar,
handed it back with :
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Salisbury Prison.
“It's all right, sir; pass out. Excuse me for detaining you.”
He passed out to join his companions. It was necessary to
wait until it became a little darker before it would be safe for
them to proceed farther; so after meeting at the appointed ren-
dezvous and appointing the next place of meeting, they separa-
ted to loiter singly about the hospital until it should be dark
enough for their purpose.
Many were the risks which they had yet to run. They were
not familiar with many persons outside of the prison, but a meet-
ing with any one of them would be equivalent to a betrayal.
Particularly was this the case with Mr. Richardson, as he was
known to have no pass; but although he met three acquaint-
ances, they did not have their wits about them sufficiently to
































































Capture and Flight of the Correspondents. 559
think that anything was wrong. At last the wished-for dark-
ness arrived ; and they marched boldly past the outer guards
—unchallenged ; for the sentinels supposed that of course they
were surgeons or nurses who had a perfect right to pass in or
Out.
They walked onward as rapidly as they dared, until they
reached a field about a mile away from the prison, where three
lay down in a fence corner, in a bed of reeds, while Mr. Davis
went to find a friend who had promised them shelter. Breathless-
ly they waited until the return of their companion.
“C me on,” said he ; “it’s all right.”
They followed him, and soon found their friend awaiting them
in a field near by.
“I’m sorry I can’t do as much for you,” he said, “as I prom-
ised ; but my house is full of Rebels, and of course it would be
too dangerous for you to be anywhere near. The best I can do
is to take you to a tolerably safe place. I’ve got to leave on the
train that starts in half an hour, but I’ll tell about you,
and he will see you tomorrow.”
Conducting them to a barn, in full sight of the prison, he bade
them climb into the hay mow and hide themselves under the
hay. Here they could hear the sentinels call: “All’s well ſ”
but the sound only lulled them to rest. They could well afford
to lose time; indeed, it was prudence which advised them to lie
concealed in a short distance of the prison for some time ; for
they knew that the Confederates, as soon as they were cogniz-
ant of the escape, would patrol the country far and wide. Es-
caping prisoners, in their haste to get away, usually traveled
with feverish speed as far as possible the first night, and, in
their exhaustion, were easily overtaken. Against this our quar-
tette resolved to guard, by remaining far within the line where
the Confederates would look for them.
They relied for assistance upon three classes of persons—the
negroes, always ready to help escaping prisoners of the Con-
federacy, citizens of secret or avowed Union sympathies, and
some soldiers. It may be thought strange that they expected
aid from the latter class, but it must be remembered that in any
army recruited wholly or partly by conscription, there must be
some who are secretly disaffected ; and at this stage of the War
there was considerable dissatisfaction with the Government at
Bichmond. Their present host, if so we may term him, was a
560 Capture and Flight of the Correspondents.
Confederate soldier, who would have helped them much but for
a restraining domestic influence; his wife, like most housewives
who had slaves to deal with, kept the keys; and she was too
strongly Southern for him to dare to suggest to her that they
should feed Northern prisoners.
Two days, then, passed, during which the only rations which
their would-be friend could supply to them was water; at the
end of that time, calculating that the Confederate scouts would
have returned from their fruitless quest and report that the
prisoners had made good their escape, they repaired to the ren-
dezvous where they were to meet Lieut. Welborn, of the Confed-
erate militia. He was accompanied by another escaped prison-
er, a private soldier, who had become possessed of a Confeder-
ate uniform and had walked boldly past the guards. They
would find friends, the officer said, in a settlement fifty miles
away; and he gave them written directions how to reach this
point.
Bidding this friend good-bye, they set out, through the al-
most bottomless mud, along the road indicated. Turning into
the woods some three miles from their starting point, they trav-
eled painfully onward until three A. M., when they endeavored
to sleep upon the pine needles that formed a thick carpet over
the ground ; but the cold had become so intense, that, weaken-
ed as they were by sickness and long confinement, they could
not make themselves comfortably warm while at rest. Added
to the other discomforts they must endure, they were very in-
sufficiently clad ; for to have dressed too warmly would have
excited the suspicions of the guard.
When daylight came, they found themselves so near a settle-
ment that they dared not move on for fear of attracting atten-
tion ; and were obliged to remain in the pine thicket until the
darkness of a rainy night afforded them the concealment need-
ed. They approached a large plantation, and Thurston, the sol-
dier, volunteered to reconnoiter, since, in case of discovery, his
uniform would protect him. Cautiously approaching the quar-
ters, he found an old man and woman were the only occupants.
“You want ter see Massa, sah 7”
Nothing was farther from his desires; he responded, with em-
phasis:
“No, I want to see you.”
“Lor, Massa, I — I— ain’t done nuffin’,” stammered the
Capture and Flight of the Correspondents. 561
frightened negro, as the soldier in gray confronted him.
“I am not a Rebel,” the soldier went on, hurriedly, “though I
have on a gray uniform. I am one of a party of prisoners—Yan-
kees—that escaped from Salisbury Sunday. We have had
nothing to eat since that time ; can you give us something 7”
“Dar’s a big party up at de house, an’—”
“You jist shet up, ole man; I'll ten’ to dat. You take dese
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gemmen to de barn and ax 'em up inter de loft; den you kin
come back an’ ten’ to tings while I git dem some supper.”
Poor old “aunty ſ” She had nothing but corn-bread and fresh
pork to offer her guests; but it was given willingly, and they
had brought that most excellent of sauces, hunger, with them.
The food was speedily prepared, and was not long in disappear-
ing from view, bountiful as it was. Their hunger appeased,
they began to grow anxious to be again upon the road ; but for
the reason that the old man had given, he would not be at liber-
ty to act as their guide until a later hour. It was midnight be-
fore he reappeared among them ; the party at “the house” had
dispersed, and by sacrificing some hours of his sorely needed

562 Capture and Flight of the Correspondents.
rest he could guide them on their way to a haven of safety.
There was a driving rain; their boots and clothes were soak-
ed; the roads were almost impassable; and when finally they
gained the railroad, the rain was freezing as it fell, rendering
the road-bed a sheet of ice, yet not making any other path firm
enough to bear a man's weight. Once on the railroad, their
guide left them, telling them where they could find another of
his race, whose cabin they would reach about dawn. So slip-
pery had the ties become that it was impossible to walk safely,
and many times they fell, Captain Wolfe spraining his ankle so
severely that he required much assistance from the others. Wet
to the skin, and nearly frozen, they stumbled on until they could
reach the promised shelter.
“Dar’s so many Secesh around, sahs, I reckon you all’d jist
better go in dis barn and hide till night; and den you kin come
ober to de cabin to supper. It’ll be ready.”
And the negro chuckled at the idea of helping these friends.
The barn contained nothing but some damp shucks, which form-
ed a very uncomfortable bed; and many were the lamentations
after the pipes, which were irrecoverably lost in the fodder.
After a day’s inaction, which did little to rest them for the
night journey, they repaired to the negro cabin, and were re-
galed with fried chicken and hot corn-bread. Mr. Richardson
had been saving tea, an almost unobtainable luxury in the
South, for more than a year, and, before starting, had filled one
of his pockets with the results of his economy. This provided
another luxury, and did much to make up for the restless day.
The negroes directed them as to their next route, but, them-
selves perfectly familiar with the country, did not think to caution
the strangers about two places which bore the same name. As
ill-luck would have it, they reached the wrong one, and after a
weary journey of fifteen miles through the night, a friend (col-
ored) informed them that they were just half a mile nearer their
destination. This informant sheltered them through the day in
a barn belonging to his master, a rabid Secessionist, fed them,
and at night guided them to the place to which they had been
directed. Then, though their boots were as stiff as wooden
shoes, their feet bleeding, their clothes hardly dry, their limbs
aching, they hastened on. Only fifteen miles, and they would
reach the settlement of which Lieut. Welborn had told them.
Once they were compelled to apply at a roadside cabin for in-
Capture and Flight of the Correspondents. 563
formation as to the route; and feared pursuit from the surly
looking individual who responded to their call; but either they
wronged him, or he lost the trail, for they were not pursued.
Some few miles beyond his house they were more fortunate than
they had yet been ; for the proprietor of a small “wayside inn”
proved to be a Unionist, and not only sheltered and fed them,
but lent them two mules to enable Capt. Wolfe, who was still
suffering from his sprain, and Mr. Browne, who was too sick to
walk, to proceed on their journey. At last, the designated set-
tlement was reached, and, for a time, “the weary were at rest.”
Of course, they were not safe even yet; loyal as the majority
of these people were to the Union, so that the neighborhood had
been dubbed “The Old United States” by the Confederates, there
were still many who, as the others phrased it, “were not of
the right sort;” and it was necessary that the latter should not
know of the presence of this party. Hiding alternately in the
houses and the barns, they were cordially welcomed by their
friends, and speedily rested and recovered so far as to be fit to
proceed on their journey.
Their party received an accession of three just as they were
about to start, and not judging it as safe to travel in one large
as two small parties, Thurston joined the new comers, and they
went on their way, separated by a distance representing twen-
ty-four hours’ travel. -
On this, their second march, they had the advantage of start-
ing under more favorable conditions than on the first occasion.
Then, they had been worn by a long imprisonment, lack of ex-
ercise and scarcity of food; now, they had had a rest of five
days, had been well fed during that time, and were provided
with better clothing. But it was a far more formidable journey
which they were to undertake. The rain had ceased, and had
been succeeded by intense cold ; the roads, nearly impassable at
best, had been plowed into deep ruts during the muddy
weather, and were now frozen hard in that delightful condition.
Nor was this the worst. Applying for information to a man to
whom they had been recommended, they were told :
“”Tain’t no use tryin’ to git to Knoxville; it’s two hundred
miles away; nobody ever gits thar ; they all git murdered on
the way. Besides, the mountains are kivered with snow, now,
so they could track you easy.”
There was an earnest consultation among the fugitives.
36
564 Capture and Flight of the Correspondents.
“We were told that we were pretty well out of danger when
we had crossed the Yadkin,” ventured one.
“”Tain’t so,” was the curt response.
“I guess we’ll take the risk anyhow ; we must get on.”
“We’ll pay liberally for a guide across the mountains.”
-—- —— . “If you’ll wait
till the snow’s gone,
I will take you
across,” answered
one of the group of
natives.
“Eut what will
- a . " " ", º f - " r we do in the mean-
%). --> *-*. “ A Jº", * 't'. ''{ t_sº - “O, you can live
% š zºº with us till then,”
ºftº replied another.
“Guess we’d bet-
ter try it now.”
So that night
they started out to
cross the Blue
Bidge, undeterred
by the statement
that the passes
were guard ed.
They traveled only
seven miles, when
they were obliged
by the intense cold
to seek shelter in
an open corn-crib.
Fortunately, it be-
longed to a Union
man, who, discovering their presence, invited them into his
storehouse, and provided them with food and bedding. At this
point they again separated into two parties, having reunited a
short time before ; and four left on the last day of 1864, the
others waiting until the first day of 1865.
The march across the mountains was one of almost incredible
difficulty; through snow a foot deep, which covered an under
... " ſ 3. * : !
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Ž N w , ºr
Sº,
Fugitives Crossing the Blue Ridge.

Capture and Flight of the Correspondents. 565
coating of ice; now where the ascent was almost impossible, now
down a slope quite precipitous. At last they were cheered by the
welcome intelligence that they were beyond the North Carolina
line, that it was now safe for them to travel by daylight, and that
their informant would himself conduct them to the house of a
relative, on the banks of the Watauga. But perhaps the most en-
couragement was derived from the sight of several Federal sol-
diers who were at home on furlough, and who gave them valua-
ble information as to the position of the troops.
“They say Dan Ellis is about to start out with a party; if you
can strike him you’re sure of getting through safe.”
Such was the opinion universally expressed ; and whatever
may be the liability of popular opinion to error, a prophet who
is honored in his own country must be indeed a great man.
“Dan Ellis’ bore so wide a reputation during the War that we
cannot pass him by with a bare mention.
At the time of which we write, he was in the prime of life,
and gifted with the keen senses, the temperate habits and the
powers of endurance which we are accustomed to associate with
the idea of a mountaineer. When the War broke out, a number
of the Union men of this section met for the purpose of forming
a military organization, similar to the “Home Guards,” com-
posed of Southern men. Dispersing to their homes, after pre-
liminaries had been arranged, for the purpose of procuring
horses, most of them were captured by the Confederates, Ellis
among the number. He escaped by sheer fleetness of foot, and
for some time formed one of a party that had encamped in a
dense laurel thicket. From time to time he revisited his home,
secretly, of course; for he was not safe if his Secession neigh-
bors knew of his presence.
While on one of these stolen visits, in August, 1862, he learn-
ed that an acquaintance was to conduct a party of escaped pris-
oners across the mountains and into the Union lines, and he re-
solved to be one of the company. Returning to his home in
Carter County, he was urged to pilot another party over the
same route, and consented to do so. From that time onward,
he made it the business of his life. More than five thousand
refugees owed it to him that they reached the Federal lines in
safety; and of all who tried to make the trip under his guidance,
only one man was lost. The Confederate Government offered a
reward of $1,000 for his capture ; he was hunted resolutely by
r x * ,
566 Capture and Flight of the Correspondents.
men who knew him well, who knew equally well every foot of
the ground in that portion of the state; and yet he lived to or-
ganize and lead a company of cavalry in the volunteer army,
to see the end of the War, to receive the thanks of Congress
and a reward of $3,000 for his services, to shake hands amicably
with the Confederate officer who had oftenest led the chase
when the “Red Fox,” as they dubbed him, was the prey—a fit-
ting end to the war record of both. And let it be remembered,
that although Capt. Ellis was the first to offer his hand, Col.
Symonds is his historian and panegyrist. .
Such was the man to whom
they looked for safety; and as his
rendezvous was known to their
friends, they set out on the night
of January 8th, to that place.
Here they found fifteen or twen-
ty more who were, like them-
selves, waiting for the main party.
Two hours passed away, and the
body of fifty men came in sight—
deserters from the Southern army,
conscripts who would not serve,
citizens whose sympathies were
with the North, Union soldiers
who had visited their homes on
furlough and wished to rejoin
their regiments. To this miscellaneous company, our little group
of friends added the one element that was lacking—escaped
prisoners.
Most of the party were well mounted, but the guide was on
foot; and although they went at a round pace, he kept up with-
out any appearance of exertion. With his rifle, repeating six-
teen times, in his hand, he walked along easily by Mr. Richard-
son, to whom he had loaned his own mule, answering the ques-
tions of the latter about his own life. But much ground must be
got over before dawn; twenty-seven miles were really accom-
plished; and in crossing the Nolechucky, several of the party
and most of the mules that carried the rations had been lost.
The men were found, but the food was not. This was a serious
loss, as it might be impossible for them to stop on the way at
any place where they could replenish their stores; but these
- . f
.*
Capt. Dan Ellis.

Capture and Flight of the Correspondents. 567
forebodings proved to be without foundation, for they scented
no immediate danger until after this loss had been repaired.
But danger threatened. Hardly had the difficult march across
the mountains been accomplished when the rumor was heard,
growing into sure intelligence, that squads of Confederate cav-
alry were scouring the country in search of them. Encamped
for the night on January 10th, Ellis received information that
they were almost surrounded by the enemy. This made it nec-
essary to insure the safety of a portion of the party at least, and
those who were mounted were ordered to proceed immediately,
and those who were on foot to follow at a safe distance. Of the
former, Mr. Richardson was one, while Mr. Browne made one
of the infantry.
The cavalry was not, as may be supposed, the less threaten-
ed of the two ; unable to take the mountain roads which the en-
emy would find impassable for horses, they were, by the greater
noise made in traveling and the more distinct traces, more eas-
ily followed. Had it not been for the heroism of a woman, a pret-
ty girl of seventeen, who guided them through the rain and
darkness, along a devious route which was not in possession of
the Confederates, it is probable that neither party would have
reached the lines.
The march had been an extremely rapid one, and under the
new pressure of danger, many who were physically worn out,
as well as suffering from nervous prostration from the effects of
such exertions accompanied by so much anxiety and so many
hardships, utterly broke down in strength or resolution, and
turned back to the country they had desired to leave. Among
these we may be sure that the escaped prisoners had no place.
They could endure anything rather than return to Salisbury,
and, though their clothes were in tatters, their boots almost
falling from their feet, their bodies enfeebled by disease, their
hearts sick with hope deferred, they pressed resolutely on until
they saw the glare of the Union picket-fires reddening the hor-
izon.
“Halt I Who goes there 7” was the challenge of the senti-
nel on the night of January 13th.
“Friends without the countersign—escaped from Salisbury.”
Their welcome need not here be set down; their story spread,
and gathered details as it went, until they scarcely would have
recognized it themselves; but this narrative has been chiefly
568 Capture and Flight of the Correspondents.
drawn from sources which ought to be the fountain head. Much
have we been compelled to omit; we could give but the bare
skeleton of a history fascinating as a romance to the lover of
adventure. -
£HAPERLXV.
WHEELER'S CAVATIFY ESCAPADES.
Stage of the War—Gen. Wheeler's Determination—A Companion—Swimming the
Peedee—An Uninvited Comrade—An Earnest Appeal—A Borrowed Name—
“Sam. Johnson”—A Hearty Welcome—Sam’s Bashfulness—A Sudden Alarm—
Unfounded Anxiety—“Scare 'em out of their Boots”—Signs of the Enemy—
The Bugler—Retreat of the Enemy—Incidents of the Pursuit—Advance of Gen.
Hampton.
HE War was nearly at an end, though few men had the wis-
T dom to see it; Southerners fought on with a dogged cour-
age that would not acknowledge defeat, while the Northerners
had so often had their hopes raised by false prophets that they
would believe nothing until it was proven. Perhaps the only
man who fully foresaw the end was the one whose name has
come to be a synonym for silence which occasionally is broken
by brief but significant speeches; we say perhaps, for it may be
that the great general who was to be conquered saw it as clear-
ly as the great general who was to be victor in the struggle.
But though they might not be able to predict the end exactly,
there was not a man in the Confederate army who did not look
forward with anxiety; knowing, as each one did, the extreme
poverty of the South in men and in all kinds of supplies. Sher-
man had captured Atlanta after its long siege, and had made his
famous “March to the Sea;” Fort McAlister had fallen, and the
city which it defended, Savannah, was in his victorious hands.
Matters had a serious look to the Confederates, then, when, one
day in February, 1865, Gen. Wheeler and Gen. Hampton sat on
their horses some little distance from their escorts, and discuss-
ed their plans for the future. The two generals had massed
their forces near Arnold’s Mill, on the bank of the Peedee; and
569
570 Wheeler's Cavalry Escapades.
before any further move, advance or retrograde, could be made
with safety, a careful reconnoissance was necessary. They
talked with great earnestness, and for some time; at last, it
seemed as if one were urging some plan which the other did not
think prudent. Many minutes passed in argument, and at last
Gen. Hampton assented to what Gen. Wheeler proposed. Thus
ending the conference, the two generals rode towards their
forces again, and Gen. Wheeler sent for Col. Anderson, of the
Fourth Tennessee Cavalry.
“Colonel, I want one of your best
men to go across the river with me
on a little scout.”
“Very well, sir,” replied the
subordinate ; and turning, he beck-
oned to his orderly, whom he di-
rected to send James B. Nance, the
bugler of the regiment, to him.
The soldier soon made his appear-
ance, and, saluting, stood waiting
to hear the duty to which he was
to be assigned.
“Nance, Gen. Wheeler wants a trusty man to cross the river
with him ; will you go?”
“I am ready for any orders, sir,” was the reply.
“Wait here a moment, then,” directed the general, “until I
have put on a private’s coat. Gen. Hampton insists very strong-
ly upon it, and I suppose he is right.”
Nance simply handed his bugle to a comrade and was ready;
Gen. Wheeler was not much longer in making his preparations,
and they mounted and set out. The river was swollen by the
copious winter rains, and the current was swift and strong; but
they plunged boldly in. Two hundred yards from the shore
was an island, and to this they directed their course, in order
that their horses might have as much rest as possible. Mean-
while, in some inexplicable way, the purpose of their expedi-
tion had become generally known in the army, and as they
swam through the deep water, their progress was intently watch-
ed by thousands of eager eyes; they gained the island, their
horses struggled to land, and cheer after cheer was heard from
the shore.
“I can’t stand it any longer,’
Gen. Wade Hampton.
’ exclaimed one soldier, whose

Wheeler's Cavalry Escapades. 571
name has not come down to us; “discipline or no discipline, I
am going to make one of them.”
And he spurred his horse into the stream, determined to join
the scouts. His determination was not seen by the latter as
they rested a few moments on the island ; and regardless of the
reinforcement that was coming up, they again plunged into the
water, steering towards a second island, two or three hundred
yards further on. But they were now in the very channel of
the stream, where the water was the deepest, and the current
swiftest and strongest. So irresistible was it, that Nance was
swept from the saddle, and could only save himself from drown-
ing by catching hold of his horse’s tail. The animal, nothing
disturbed by this unusual mode of guidance, swam as straight
for the island as if his rider had still held the reins. He scram-
bled upon the shore, and pulled his rider once more to dry land.
As they paused here for a brief breathing spell, they saw, for
the first time, the soldier who was so resolved to join them, and
halted longer than they intended in order to allow him to come
up with them. His horse “breasted the current like a tug,”
says Mr. Nance, from whose account our facts are chiefly de-
rived, and it was not long before he had overtaken the two whom
he wished to join.
“I couldn’t help it, General, I had to come. Of course, if you
say so, I’ll go back, but I do want to go with you, sir.”
The officer smiled at the earnestness of the appeal as he an-
swered :
“Oh, no, I wouldn’t have you go back for the world ; come
right on, and we’ll make the scout with three instead of two.”
“I know two are company”— began the new comer again.
“But three don’t make a crowd. Is your horse résted Ž If it
is, we'll make for the third island over there.”
“Oh, he’s all right; ready for anything, General,” answered
the trooper, patting the horse’s neck affectionately.
“I don’t know ; he looks tired,” said Nance; “anyhow, Gener-
al, I wish, before we go in again, you would tell us what to do in
case of capture.”
“Get away again, I reckon, would be the best thing under
such circumstances. That’s general, however; what was it par-
ticularly that you wanted to know?”
“In case we were to be captured, if they knew you to be Gen.
Wheeler, they’d watch us so close we wouldn’t have any chance
572 Wheeler's Cavalry Escapades.
to get away. You’ve put on a private’s coat so as not to attract
their attention ; why not assume another name 7” -
“That’s well thought of, Nance; can you suggest a good .
name 7 One that would not sound as if it were assumed.”
“Well, I suppose a real name would sound the most real. Sam
Johnson's a good fellow; suppose you borrow his.”
“All right. Sam Johnson—that certainly sounds like the real
thing. I suppose he would have no objections to lending his
name.”
ºs “I know he wouldn’t,
º General, when you want to
borrow.”
“All right, then, Sam
Johnson I’ll be for the
present. Now, we’d better
go on to the third island.”
As he rode into the water
the other two followed
closely behind him. The
third island was reached,
and after another short
§ - halt, they started upon the
\\º Š * home stretch, and finally
-- stood upon the farther
sh or e of the Pe e de e.
Plunging into the deep woods which here skirted the stream,
they went on for some distance before reaching the road ; but
fortunately had not far to go before coming to a house.
“Iil stand picket in the road, boys,” said Gen. Wheeler,
“while you go to the house and get some dry clothes; and then
you can do the same for me.”
“O, no, General, you must go first, and then we can go.” –
IBut to this the officer would not listen, and the men were fin-
ally obliged to consent to his plans. No difficulty was experi-
ienced, as the people living in the house were strong Secession-
ists; the three scouts were accorded as hearty a welcome as
could have been given to Gen. Wheeler or any other officer in
propria persona, and they were regaled with an excellent supper.
After leaving the table, the young ladies, of whom there were
several in the house (as often happened in those days, there were
none but ladies and children at home) urged the guests to sing—
§§§3.
§§ §º sº º
º sº
§§§
§ º & N
º S
sº
Gen. Joseph Wheeler.






Wheeler's Cavalry Escapades. 573
anything so it was Southern, for they were ardent Rebels. With
characteristic gallantry, the soldiers urged the ladies to sing
first, and several ballads of the time were given by them in fine
style—from “Dixie” to the “Homespun Dress.”
“Now you must sing,” the ladies urged ; “we’ve done our
part, and you promised, you know.”
Accordingly, Nance sat down to the piano, and thrumming
an accompaniment, gave them the song, especially popular with
this command, and called “Wheeler's Cavalry.”
“O, that’s splendid,” they exclaimed, with one voice; “now
won’t you please sing us another ?”
“Well, the fact is, ladies, I only sang to redeem my promise.
I was almost ashamed to utter a note in the presence of the best
singer in the army.”
“The best singer in the army ſ” they cried excitedly; “which
is it 7”
“My friend, Mr. Johnson, has that reputation. Come, Sam,
don’t be so modest. You know you are called so, and there’s
reason for the name.”
But “Sam Johnson’ blushed like a girl, and earnestly denied
the soft impeachment; the ladies of course set all his denials
down to the account of modesty, or rather, bashfulness, and only
urged him the more; while Nance now and then threw in a few
words that encouraged them the more. For some time this went
on, the two soldiers greatly enjoying the fun ; until Nance, seeing
that it had gone far enough, turned to the piano with a sigh :
“I’m sorry he won’t sing, ladies, but he always is bashful
about it. If you’ll accept of a very poor substitute, I’ll do the
best in my power.”
The ladies hastened to assure him that while they would like
very much to hear the best singer in the army, they did not con-
sider him a bad substitute. Thus reassured, he began the “Bon-
nie Blue Flag”; but suddenly stopped, as, in the pauses of the
music, his quick ear caught the sounds of horses’ feet. His two
companions heard it at the same moment, and hastily putting an
end to the music and conversation, they sprang to the door.
Listening attentively for a few minutes, in order to ascertain in
what direction the horsemen were going, and finding that they
seemed to be approaching the house, Nance said, hurriedly :
“Stay here, Sam, and I’ll go down to the road and hail them.
I'll talk loud enough for you to hear, and if they’re Yanks,
574 - TWhecler’s Cavalry Escapades.
you’ll soon know it. Be ready for action, whoever they are.”
“Without waiting for a reply, he bounded down the steps
and to the fence which separated the garden from the road.”
“IIallo | What command is that?” he called, as they rode up.
“Wheeler's Scouts,” was the reply.
“Who is in command 7” *
“Captain Shannon,” answered that officer, whom Nance at
once recognized.
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singer in the army.”
“Ride up a little nearer the fence, won’t you, Captain 7”
“Is it Mr. Nance of the Fourth Tennessee Cavalry 7”
“Yes, sir; are you on urgent business to-night 7”
“Yes; you see, Gen. Wheeler came over to this side of the riv-
er on a scout to-day, and as he had no escort, Gen. Iſampton be-
came anxious as to his safety and dispatched me with eight
men to ascertain his whereabouts.”
“Well, there's no need for Gen. Hampton’s anxiety; for our
general is in the house here.”
“In the house 7 You don’t say so ſ” And in an instant every
one of the scouts was off his horse and making a bee-line for
the house-door. As they entered, and saw that their command-































































Wheeler's Cavalry Escapades. 575
er, of whose safety they had entertained such doubts, was
really before them, military discipline and etiquette were thrown
to the four winds of heaven.
“Glad to see you, General
“How are you, General ”
“’Rah for the General ſ”
Meanwhile the ladies stared in wonder, to hear that the “bash-
ful Mr. Johnson '' was a real live general; and their wonder was
only increased by learning that it was the dashing cavalry offi-
cer with whose name they were so familiar. The scouts, thus in-
creased in number to twelve, were hospitably entertained for the
night, and bidden God-speed on their departure in the morning.
- One of the new comers was provided with a bugle, which, at Gen.
Wheeler's desire, he gave up to the bugler of the Fourth Tennes-
S60.
“Take it, Nance, and when we come upon the enemy sound it
long and loud, so as to scare 'em out of their boots with the
noise.”
“All right, sir; I'll do my best with it.”
Gen. Wheeler and Captain Shannon rode in front, a few paces
before the main body of the little force. Orders had been given
that, as soon as they came in sight of the enemy, the scouts were
to charge and rout them—the latter part of the order being
given with as much earnestness as the former, as if the routing
were a matter entirely under the control of the assaulting party.
They rode on for about five miles without seeing any sign of
the enemy’s presence save the devastation of the country which
always accompanies war. The scouts, indeed, were beginning to
be impatient, for they had expected to get a sight of the blue-
coats before that. At last, however, the general halted as he
came to a point where the road forked, and turning in his saddle,
beckoned to his men. With joyful haste they put spurs to their
horses and rode forward.
The sight which they saw was one to strike terror even to a
brave heart. Drawn up in line of battle in the road before them,
was a force of Yankees far outnumbering their own little party—
the dark blue of the blouses lightened by the gleam of the guns.
But even if they had been disposed to draw back, their leader
left them no alternative. He signaled to Nance to sound the
charge; the notes of the bugle rang out, sharp and clear, upon
the Wintry morning; the Federals had no intimation that an en-
122
576 Wheeler's Cavalry Escapades.
emy was near, and when the handful of scouts charged upon them,
they were taken entirely by surprise. The Confederates, bent
upon making their numbers seem as great as possible, rode on-
ward with the true Rebel yell, repeated as many times as human
lungs would allow. The Federal officers, rapidly comprehend-
ing the fact that they were beset by the enemy in unknown
strength, gave the order to fire; but though the men were armed
with seven-shooting carbines, the bullets flew over the heads of
the rapidly advancing cavalry. Onward, onward, came the
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Following the Bugle.
Rebs, and at the shock of the onset the blue line wavered, broke,
and was soon in full retreat.
“Blow like the devil, Nance!” shouted the Confederate officer,
above the din of the charge. And as he sounded the charge again
and again, the Yanks, fully convinced that their assailants far
outnumbered them, moved onward all the faster to some haven
of safety. So the chase went on, until the Southerners found
themselves in a slight hollow, whence they could not see the re-
treating column of the enemy. Here they scattered, each man to
pursue the scattered fugitives as well as possible, leaving the main
column to its chances of safety, as it was too strong for them to
attack in earnest. IIere and there, a Confederate would over-
w
















































Wheeler's Cavalry Escapades. 577
take a blue-coat, evidently utterly demoralized by the sudden-
ness of the late attack. Such, at least, was the experience of
our doughty bugler, who, having fully tested the powers of
sound, was now anxious to strike some blows for the cause in
which he was engaged.
Exploring a small passage around the hill, communicating
with the hollow in which they then were, he came, somewhat
suddenly, upon two Yanks, one of whom was riding a mule.
“Halt Surrend or l’’
The summons met with no response from those addressed; and
the Reb, resolved that they should not thus escape him, emptied
a barrel of his revolver at them. The mounted man rolled from
his saddle with a bullet through his brain, while the other, to
whose fears this lent new wings, ran on with redoubled speed.
Knowing that the first was safe, Nance pursued the other at full
speed. His horse struggled bravely up the hill, and at last he
was in the little grove that crowned its summit. Unwilling to
pause, even to give the noble animal the moment’s rest which
was so much needed, he had struck his spurs afresh into the
Quivering flanks, when he saw, on the summit of the next hill,
within easy range, the whole Federal line drawn up anew, as
they had been across the road. He had been so keen in his
pursuit of the fugitive that he had not, until that moment, per-
ceived the hornet’s nest into which he had rushed; but fortunate-
ly, he was quick in conception as in action; a touch upon the
rein, and he had wheeled his horse, the spurs only serving to urge
him in the contrary direction from that in which the rider had
intended to go. Tiding back to Gen. Wheeler, he reported his
adventure, and the success with which he had met.
“Did you get the gun of the Yankee you shot 7”
“No, sir, I had no need for it, and could not well carry it.”
“I wish you would get it for me, will you?”
“Certainly.”
IIe returned in a few minutes with the gun, and, by Gen.
Wheeler's order, the whole little force set out for the Peedee
again, for there was of course imminent danger of capture. The
Federals, perceiving no signs that the attack was to be renewed,
took fresh courage, and sent forward a few men to ascertain the
intentions of the enemy. Iſaving thus learned something of the
strength of the assaulting party, and that it was in full retreat,
they hastily advanced in the direction advised by those officers
578 Wheeler's Cavalry Escapades.
who had made the reconnoissance. The Confederates, though
unaware that such a movement had actually taken place, were
yet alarmed lest the enemy might determine upon it, and re-
treated at full speed to the river. But they were not destined
to swim the swift waters as they had done on the previous day,
for Gen. Hampton, in the absence of the information which Gen.
Wheeler had wished to procure, and fearing that the latter offi-
cer might have been captured, had put his corps in motion and
crossed the river early that morning. The little body of scouts
had ridden scarcely two miles before they met the advance-
guard, and, hurrying rearward, each man was soon in his place.
Although there was but little, if any, information or advant-
age gained by this scout, it had this one point in its favor: there
was nothing lost. In spite of their furious charge upon the su-
perior force of Federals, there was not one of their number hurt
by the bullets, that, for a few minutes, rained, about them,
When, therefore, we admire and wonder at the daring of an offi-
cer who, with so small an escort, penetrated even so short a dis-
tance into the enemy’s country, our ardor is not damped by
the reflection that he sacrificed human life to his audacity.
£HAPTER LXVI.
DESTROYING TELE ENEMY'S STORES.
The Deserter's Information—Wouldn’t be Outdone—The Invitation Accepted—
The Departure from Camp—Pompey's Distrust—At the Point Threatened—
Access to the House—Enemies Near—Caution—The Powder Securely Dis-
posed of— A Sudden Attack — A Desperate Struggle—Victory—Rapid Re-
treat—Pompey’s Dismay.
66T SAY, L–,” said a Fire Zouave in the Army of the Poto-
mac, as he looked cautiously about him to see that there
were no eaves-droppers near, “let’s go on a little private raid.
What do you say ?”
“Well, I don’t know,” was the reply, in a doubtful tone;
“what kind of a raid Ž Where to ?”
“Well, there was a deserter brought in last night—not one of
our men, but from over there”—and he jerked his thumb in the
direction of the Confederate lines. “He said as how there was a
right smart sight of ammunition where it wouldn’t be so orful
hard to get.”
“Whereabouts?” demanded the other, his interest now fully
aroused.
“Do you want to go?” the first replied, Yankee fashion.
“Well, if it ain’t too much pork for a shilling, I guess I’ll go.
But are you sure the ammunition is really there 7 Who did he
tell ?”
“Me. I treated him. Had some of that whisky left we got
when we raided that Rebel house over in county. Tell
you what, that ex-Reb knows a thing or two about liquor, he
does that.”
“They all do, hang 'em, and they all get it, too, by some hook
or crook. But are you sure he ain’t a foolin' you, now 7”
37 579
580 Destroying the Enemy's Stores.
“He swore it was so, anyhow, and he's on his good behavior
now, you know—just converted. Talking about conversion, did
you hear what Col. C said the other day ?”
“That profane old fellow, that cusses oftener than he breathes?
No.”
“Well, you know how Chaplain M is always talking pious;
so the other day he goes to Col. C–’s tent, and begins to talk
to him about the wonderful piety of the th Massachusetts—
ten men had been baptized, and so on. Well, the old fellow got
disgusted at that, and ripped out an oath that made the chap-
lain’s hair stand on end. Then he turned around to his order-
ly and told him to have fifteen men detailed for baptism right
away—he wasn’t going to be outdone by any d d Massachu-
setts regiment in the army. The orderly told me that.”
“Is that the way your ex-Reb was converted 7”
“No, I guess not. He was a loyal man living within the Rebel
lines, and got conscripted ; so he deserted just as soon as he got
a chance. I guess he's all right. But if you ain’t willing to
risk it, I can get some one else to go with me,” replied the
Zouave, turning away.
“Hold on ; I didn’t say that I wouldn’t go, did I?”
“N—no, not exactly.”
“I’ll go, of course, and thank you for the invitation. But
can’t you tell a fellow some particulars ”
“It’s ball-cartridges, and there’s several thousand of them.
They’re in a room in the second story of that big house the oth-
er side of the woods—you know the one I mean?”
“Yes, the old fellow’s Secesh—some of the boys say he's a
spy.”
“That's the one. Now, we’ll get hold of a horse and wagon,
and we’ll put it safely away till sunset. Then we’ll go and get
it without letting the other fellows know what we are about, or
they’ll all want to go along, and that would spoil the fun. We’ll
drive up pretty near the house, and hide the wagon until we get
it fill od.”
“But where is the wagon 7”
“Trust me to attend to that,” answered the Zouave with a
mysterious wink, and a knowing look.
“And, granting that you get the wagon and we get there all
right, how are you going to get the bags in the wagon without
being seen 7”
Destroying the Enemy's Stores. 581
“Don’t you want to go?”
“Oh, yes, of course.”
“Well, then”— and here followed a succession of nods and
winks and gestures which were very expressive, but which can
hardly be put on paper. In a few more words, the rendezvous
was appointed, and with a caution to his companion “not to let
the other fellows get wind of it,” the Zouave strolled away.
So careless was the demeanor of both during the afternoon that
there was no suspicion aroused in the minds of “the other fel-
lows,” and the Zouave sauntered carelessly out of camp towards
a hill that reared its tree-crowned summit at a short distance.
A short time afterward, and just as the sun was setting, L
followed him to the same point by a slightly different route;
for just beyond this hill was the rendezvous. The Zouave had
arrived at the given point some time before L came up, and
was actually in possession of the horse and wagon. Perched on
the seat, with the lines in his hand, he was emitting clouds of
smoke from his short clay pipe, and holding converse with a
negro who stood near. The latter's dusky face expressed con-
siderable anxiety.
“Now, mind, Pompey, you must come back here to this very
spot at this time to-morrow night, to get your horse and wagon
and the money we’re going to pay you for the use of it.”
“Will de waggin be hyar, sah 7”
“Will the wagon be here? Why, of course it will, or I wouldn’t
tell you to come after it.”
“An’ de hoss too, sah 7”
“Of course. What do you mean 7”
“Nuffin, sah ; but if hit’s all de same, couldn’t you pay me
In OW 7”
“Pompey, you insult me”—very indignantly—“do you mean
that you think I don’t intend to pay you? Tell me quick.” (A
severe frown.) g
“Oh, no, sah, no sah”—hastily—“I jist—well, now, you know,
Sah, sometimes de Sogers dey go out all gay and smilin’ like de
flower ob de field and dey come back like de grass dat’s cut
down and cast into de oben. Now ef you was to do like dat,
sah, and not come back nebber no more, I wouldn’t hab de wag-
gin, and I wouldn’t hab de hoss, and I wouldn’t git de money.”
“But we ain’t that kind, Pompey; we never turn up missing ;
why, we’ve both been soldiers a long time now, and we never
| \ . .
582 Destroying the Enemy's Stores.
got killed yet. It seems to me you are unnecessarily anxious.”
Pompey looked doubtful, as if he did not more than half be-
lieve the speaker; and the soldier went on :
“Now see here ; we came down here to fight for your freedom,
and it’s a darned shame if you can’t trust us one day and night
with your old horse and wagon. I could pay you now just as
easy as not, and I would if you hadn’t behaved so awful mean
about it; but now, I won’t. And if you follow us one single
step, I’ll hang you high as Haman—hang you up by your wool,
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and let you hang there until it's so straight it will never be
kinky again.”
The words were uttered with most impressive earnestness, as
the speaker glanced at a coil of rope that lay at his feet, as if
the instrument of torture were all ready for the proposed use.
The darkey felt the threatened wool tenderly, and then con-
cluded to scratch his head. Apparently, that operation exerted
a quieting influence, for he replied:
“Berry well, boss; jist as you say, sah. I’ll be hyar.”
They drove rapidly away, and before very long, were within
a short distance of the house where the ammunition was stored.
The stroll from the camp to the rendezvous had taken consider-
able time, as both were desirous of appearing to have no object



















































Destroying the Enemy's Stores. 583
in view ; and to preserve this appearance, they were obliged to
turn aside several times from the more direct course. Some few
minutes had been consumed in convincing Pompey that it was
all right, and some in the drive; so that, although they set out
at sunset, it was pitch dark when they arrived at the clump of
trees in which the horse and wagon were to be hidden.
“We’re about two hundred yards from the house. See that
light? That’s in the room just under the one where the ammu-
nition is,” whispered the Zouave.
They stole cautiously towards the house, keeping the light
steadily in view ; for it was their only guide through the intense
darkness. Not a sound was made by them, save when a twig
cracked under the foot, and the soldier muttered a curse upon
his own awkwardness. At last the distance was traversed, and
they were directly under the window from which the light was
visible. The sill was about five feet from the ground, so that
they must crouch down in order to avoid being seen from the
inside. There they lay, the darkness around them so intense
that neither could see the other, but each could only assure him-
self of his comrade's presence by touch. Here they must remain
until it was safe to try for the upper part of the house.
Suddenly there was a commotion within the room; the tread
of heavy boots was heard, and deep, strong voices spoke ; then
there was the clang of metal, and the soldiers without knew that
those within had laid aside their arms. Confederate soldiers,
evidently, as their host was a strong Secessionist. The window
above the heads of the two Federals was half open, and every
sound inside could be plainly heard outside, and vice versa.
With sharpened ears the two concealed men waited to hear what
was said within, but soon found that the visitors were not come
on any particular business, but appeared to be relatives and
friends of the family.
“Better go now, I guess,” whispered the Zouave to his com-
panion. .
But as they were about to rise, L , whose limbs were
Cramped by remaining so long in one uncomfortable position,
felt his foot slip aside ; he fell heavily upon his comrade, his
shoe making a loud crunching noise on the gravel. The men
within were instantly alarmed by the sound, and hastily rushed
to the window. The sash was thrown up as far as it would go,
and several of them, leaning far out, peered into the darkness.
584 1)estroying the Enemy's Stores.
The Federals could see the gleam of their long knife-blades, as
they held the bowies, the only weapon they had not laid aside,
ready for use. But the two blue-coats crouched lower and near-
er to the wall, and were not discerned in the darkness. The
Confederates finally concluded that the noise resulted from some
innocent cause, and drew in their heads; half closing the win-
dow as before. The Federals once more breathed easily, and
replaced their revolvers, which they had held cocked and aimed
at two of the Confederates above them. -
This unfortunate occurrence, of course, obliged them to lie
still for some time longer, as the slightest noise would again
arouse the suspicions of the Southerners; and the Yankees knew
that if they were caught, they would be hanged as spies. But as
they heard the conversation in the room above them turned to
other subjects than the noise, the Zouave grasped his comrade's
arm, and, in a whisper, desired him to follow him closely. Still
crouching so that their heads were scarcely four feet above the
ground, they crept slowly and cautiously to the angle of the
house. On this side, even more care must be observed, for the
door must be found without making the least noise with the
Jatch. With many careful gropings the Zouave at last found the
entrance, which was provided with one of the old-fashioned
latches now used only for stores and outbuildings.
“Take off your shoes and carry them,” he whispered, “for if
we leave them here some one might find them.”
In a few moments they were both shoeless, and then he care-
fully lifted the latch, and guiding his comrade into the passage,
they stole up stairs, groping their way as they went. The Zou-
ave had assured L that he was familiar with the arrange-
ment of the house, and his conduct now justified the assertion;
for not a misstep did he make, and although their advance must
be slow, he went straight to the door of the room in which the
ammunition was said to be stored. -
“It’s locked P’ whispered the Zouave, with an oath, as he tried
the door. “Unless we can get into that room we’ll have had
the whole trip for nothing.”
“But how can we get in 7"
“Let’s try this window. The piazza runs clear around the
house, and is covered all the way; so that there must be a win-
dow in that room opening on the roof.”
“Suppose it should be fastened 7”
Destroying the Enemy's Stores. 585
“Suppose it shouldn’t,” was the reply, as savagely as caution
would permit. “I guess we can try it, anyhow.”
Fortunately, the heat had been so great that most of the win-
dows in the house had been left open. Climbing out that which
opened from the hallway, they walked carefully along the roof
of the piazza, keeping as near the house as possible, and crouch-
ing so that it would be difficult to see them, even in less intense
darkness, from below. So the next window was reached, the
one which opened into the room they so much wished to enter.
Fortunately, it was raised ; and after pausing a moment to list-
en, lest there should be danger approaching, they clambered in.
The interior of the room, like the halls and the outer air, was
pitch dark; and they dared not even strike a match, lest the
glimmer of the flame should betray them. Unacquainted with
the appearance of the room, they did not even know if there was
any furniture in it; much less what articles there might be, or
where they might be placed. Every foot of the floor must be
carefully felt, until they should find the canvas bags; and that
without alarming the enemies in the room beneath them.
Creeping slowly and silently over the floor, they came at last
upon the heap; and the bags were removed, two at a time, to
the roof of the piazza just below the window where they had en-
tered. Then, retiring some distance from this point, they held
a whispered consultation :
“What do you think about it, L–?” asked the Zouave, some-
what anxiously. “Do you think we can get the bags down to the
wagon 7”
“No, I don’t ; we’ll be caught just as sure as we make so many
trips. We might carry some off.” • , ,
“But we want to get all.”
“Yes, but we can't.”
“The next best thing to carrying them all off would be to keep
the enemy from using the stuff; don’t you think so 7”
“Oh, yes, of course.”
“Well, then, listen. There’s a deep well right down at this
corner of the piazza. If you can lower those bags to me, I’ll
drop them in.” - º
“All right. How will you get down 7” was the response.
“This way;” and the Zouave, who had worn around his neck
that very coil of rope with which he had so terribly threatened
the darkey, took off the necktie, and fastened one end of it to the
586 Destroying the Enemy's Stores.
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Destroying the Enemy's Stores. 587
piazza. With an injunction to his comrade to haul up the loose
end as soon as he should be down, and to lower the bags by
means of the rope, he rapidly descended. In a moment’s time
he was down, and the rope was drawn up. The bags were lowered
cautiously, and dropped into the well one by one. They had
thought that perhaps the splashing with which the heavy
weights fell into the water would attract the attention of the en-
emy; but it appeared that the latter were too far off to hear the
noise.
The last bag was lowered, and as the Zouave dropped it into the
well, both he and his companion felt fervently grateful that they
had not been discovered. L was about to descend, when,
without a moment's warning, he found himself in the grasp of a
powerful antagonist, who had approached him unheard while he
bent all his attention to lowering the bags. Instinctively he
clutched at his enemy’s throat, and the two grappled in a mor-
tal contest.
They swayed back and forth, now one triumphant, now the oth-
er. But the Confederate gained the use of his right hand, which
clutched a bowie ; he was about to drive it to the Federal’s heart
when a sudden wrench of his arm sent the weapon flying over his
head. There was nothing left, then, but a combat in which pure
muscular power must determine the victory, the Reb thought;
and he knew that he was far stronger than the slender form in his
grasp. But a man who fights for his life does not readily give
up; this one knew that if he were defeated, he would be hanged
as a spy; for there was no summons to surrender. So they
strove for the mastery. The Federal felt his strength gradually
failing him ; a moment more, and that iron hand would close
upon his throat in a deadly grasp. Suddenly relaxing his own
hold upon his opponent, he seized his revolver. They closed
again; but in an instant afterward, the muzzle of the weapon
was pressed against the Confederate’s forehead ; there was a
sharp report; and the dead man fell heavily to the roof, thence
to the ground. -
His opponent followed him, but voluntarily, wishing to rejoin
his comrade. That comrade had had no idle moments in the mean-
time. The Confederates must have reconnoitered carefully, and
found just how many men were engaged and what they were do-
ing; for at the same instant that the one above stairs had sprung
upon L. , the Zouave found himself in the grasp of two ene-
588 Destroying the Enemy's Stores.
mies. Each was at least equal in strength to himself, and it was
only by desperate exertions that he could prolong the unequal
contest for a moment’s time. As he found opportunity, he made
a dive for his revolver—it was gone ! Ilost in the struggle,
doubtless. The Confederates seemed anxious to secure their
prize alive, for they used no weapons, trusting to their united
strength to overcome him.
Foiled in his first attempt to defeat them by the use of arms,
he was more successful in the second ; and his bowie was sheath-
ed in the side of one of his antagonists. The man sank to the
ground without a moan, the warm blood gushing from a ghastly
wound in the left side, just under the fifth rib. The struggle
was now more nearly equal, although it was the stronger of the
two Confederates that was left alive.
Such was the state of affairs below when L– fired, and hav-
ing thus rid himself of his own antagonist, leaped to the ground
to find his comrade. The soft earth gave way beneath his feet,
and he fell forward ; as he scrambled to an erect position, his
hand came in contact with rough cloth—could it be the clothing
of the dead Zouave 2 He felt farther along the mass of lifeless
clay, and his hands were bathed in the warm blood. Deter-
mined, at any risk, to find if this were the body of his comrade,
or if the Zouave was still alive, he called :
“Where are you, H––?” .
“Here I am,” came the reply, from a point but a few yards
off; “come and help me, for mercy's sake.”
He sprang to the assistance of his companion; and the burly
Rebel, unable to resist their united powers, was dragged to the
curb of the well. He struggled desperately, but it was of no
avail. A moment he hung suspended over the dark abyss, black-
er even than the darkness that surrounded them; then, their
grasp relaxed; his arms clutched convulsively, but they clutch-
ed only the air; and as his fingers closed in, he fell down—down
—to the dark waters thirty feet below, to the rocky bottom as
far below the surface of the water. -
There was no time for delay; the Federals did not know how
many more enemies there might be; and without waiting to hear
the plash of the foeman’s body in the water, they plunged into
the shrubbery that surrounded the house, and made for the
horse and wagon. It may well be believed that no time was
lost in getting away from that locality, although, as they were
Destroying the Enemy’s Stores. 589
not pursued, their haste was needless. They reached camp in
safety, rejoicing over the idea that if they had not carried off
any of the stores of the enemy, they had at least destroyed some
of importance.
Pompey received his horse and wagon with considerable sur-
prise; and when asked if he had any doubts about the Zouave's
inténtion to return them, answered in some confusion :
“Oh no, Sah; no, Sah; but—I’se—I’se mighty feared you was
a gwine ter git killed, boss.”
“Much obliged to you for the use of them, Pompey,” returned
the Zouave. &
“Didn’t you forget somefin,’ boss?” asked the darkey, anx-
iously.
“Oh, the money 2 Well, Pomp, you just make out the bill and
send it to the Board of Claims, in Washington. I haven’t a cent
to spare.”
£Harted LXVII.
CAPTUTEING TWO GENERALS.
An Attractive Idea—Cumberland—How They Got the Countersign—Gathering in
the Reserves—“Scouts from New Creek”—No Time for Ceremony—A Faith-
ful Servant—“Sent Out to Reconnoiter” —Necessity for Haste—Pursued—
Escape With Prisoners—Recognition of Services.
EW CREEK, Virginia, had been surprised and captured
by Gen. Rosser of the Confederate Army, and in accord-
ance with the policy of the Federal Government at that time, the
officer in command of the department in which that station was
situated, Maj.-Gen. Kelley, had been removed to make room for
another of less unfortunate antecedents, Maj.-Gen. Crook.
Though no longer in command, Gen. Kelley, having as yet re-
ceived no orders to proceed elsewhere, was still at his old head-
quarters, one of the principal hotels in the city of Cumberland;
while Gen. Crook had established himself at the other house of
similar standing.
The idea of two Federals of the rank of Major-General, in one
town, and probably feeling entirely secure as to their own per-
sons, was an attractive one to a certain young Confederate. He
ranked only as a lieutenant, but the death of his father, the gal-
lant old Captain McNeill, of the McNeill Rangers, left him practi-
cally in command of that body of daring men, as no successor
had yet been commissioned. The thought grew more and more
pleasing as it became more familiar; and having thoroughly in-
vestigated the state of affairs in and around Cumberland, he
came to the conclusion that he would, at any rate, make the at-
tempt to capture the two generals.
It must be remembered that Cumberland was, at that time, a
city of eight or nine thousand inhabitants. There was, accord-
590
Capturing Two Generals. 591
ing to the most reliable information that Lieut. McNeill could
obtain, nearly that number of Federals encamped there; he
would be obliged, of course, to penetrate the two lines of pick-
ets, and without arousing the main body of soldiery, enter the
town, obtain access to the two headquarters, and carrying off
the officers of highest rank, evade pursuit. For this work he
had but sixty effective men; for in the skirmish in which his
father had been killed, many of his Rangers had fallen ; others
were wounded ; others absent on necessary duty. Nothing
could be hoped, then, if they were discovered. The whole plan
must be wrought out in one night, and with the greatest cau-
tion.
Carefully arranging all the details of route and duties, the
sixty men set out on their perilous adventure. The path was
well known to the Rangers, and they were accustomed to silent
movements through the darkness ; it was without adventure,
then, that they crossed Knobby Mountain and reached the bank
of the North Branch of the Potomac. They crossed the stream,
and halted near the picket post which was nearest the course
they had marked out. It was only a momentary halt, however,
and they rode on to the picket.
“What is your countersign 7” demanded Lieut. McNeill, stern-
ly, as he boldly rode up to the picket. The Federal, a huge,
thick-headed, slow-witted German, was so surprised by the sud-
den apparition that he failed to collect his sluggish thoughts,
and stammered out :
“Bool’s Kap.” (Bull’s Gap.)
“All right,” answered the Confederate, nonchalantly ; and he
and his men rode past, leaving the picket wondering “who in ter
teufel it could be dat demanded de countersign in dat style. It
must be a sheneral at least; maybe der Bresitent Lincoln.”
They rode five miles further on down the county road, and
then struck into the pike. Presently came the expected chal-
lenge:
“Halt | Who comes there 7”
“Friends, with the countersign.”
“Dismount and advance, one, and give the countersign.”
Lieut. McNeill’s ankle had been badly crushed a short time
before, so that it was impossible for him to comply with the first
part of the order; he was about to give the countersign from his
saddle, having urged his horse forward for the purpose, when
592 Capturing Two Generals.
he heard, to his surprise and even disgust at the timid sentinel:
“Don’t shoot; I surrender.”
Alarmed by the advance of a mounted man, the luckless sol-
dier took this course to save his own life. On they went gath-
ering in the reserves. The first captured were cavalry. These
were taken with them. The next were infantry. Disarming
them and destroying their guns, the Rangers paroled these, the
condition being that they should remain where they were until
morning.
“The town is surrounded, and there isn’t any possibility of es-
cape, so you needn’t try,” the Rangers gravely assured the pris-
oners, who, to use a
modern slang expres-
sion, “took it all in,”
and obeyed orders.
Their best plan, as they
knew, was to act bold-
ly, as if they were a
Federal force. Enter-
ing the town on the
west side, then, and
crossing Will’s Creek,
which flows through
it, they rode deliber-
ately up one of the
principal thorough-
fares, Baltimore St.,
laughing, talking, and
w histling, as they
might have passed
through Richmond, or as the Union scouts which they pretend-
ed to be might have done in Cumberland.
Guards paced the streets, and from these came friendly salu-
tations and challenges, such as:
“Hello, boys, who might you be 7”
“Scouts from New Creek,” replied the Confederates.
It was two or three o’clock in the morning before they had
reached the city and penetrated to its heart. Moving without or-
ders, like the dancers in a quadrille, the party divided as it reach-
ed a given point, one detachment proceeding to the St. Nicholas,
the other, under the command of Lieut. Welton, to the Revere
w

Capturing Two Generals. 593
House. As Lieut. McNeill’s ankle disabled him, he was obliged
to remain in the saddle, and leave the actual work of the first
party to be performed by Jas. W. Kuykendall. Let us first fol-
low the Confederates in this party to the St. Nicholas.
Those who had been previously appointed for the purpose,
dismounted as soon as they halted, and entered the hotel. Pass-
ing the guards by means of the countersign, they procure a light
and ascertain the position of Gen. Kelley’s room; leaving the
Sentries to be surprised and silently secured by the comrades
whom they had left outside. In order to enter Gen. Kelley’s
apartment, it was necessary to pass through that occupied by
his Adjutant-General, Major Melvin; securing this officer, which
required but a moment, and taking hasty note of the fact that
they had captured four headquarters colors, they knocked at
Gen. Kelley’s door.
Thus aroused from sleep, the general raised himself on his el-
bow and looked inquiringly at the intruder, not knowing but
that some message of importance might have brought him. But
before he had time to put the inquiry into words, the Confeder-
ate said to him :
“I suppose you know me, General.”
“Yes,” answered Kelley, with a puzzled expression, as he rec-
ognized the face and voice, “you are Mr. Kuykendall.”
“I was your prisoner once, but I have the honor to have cap-
tured you now. You are my prisoner, sir.”
“But to whom am I to surrender 7” demanded the officer, re-
luctant to own himself the prisoner of a soldier ranking so far
below himself.
“To me, sir; there is no time for ceremony, and you will find
it wisest not to insist on it. Please to dress at once.”
There was nothing to do but to obey the order, and the party
speedily repaired to the rendezvous previously appointed. In
the meantime, the other portion of the force had gone to the
Revere House. Halted in front of the main entrance by the sen-
tinel on duty there, they replied to the usual question:
“Friends, with the countersign, bearing important dispatches
for Gen. Crook.”
Rive men had dismounted as soon as the party had drawn rein,
Jos. D. Wandiver being the leader of the squad. Advancing as
if to give the countersign, one of them, by a dexterous movement
wrested the sentinel’s gun from his hand, while two were
594 Capturing Two Generals.
detailed to guard him. The outer door of the apartments occu-
pied by Gen. Crook was reached, and a knock evidently aroused
some one within. -
“Who’s dar?”
“Open the door. I want to see the general right away.”
“De general's asleep.” -
“Let me in, anyhow; I must see him. Hurry up. It’s very
important.” - -
With much caution the door is opened, and a diminutive dark-
ey blocks the way.
“Which is Gen. Crook’s door 7”
“I’se feered to tell. He's asleep.”
“Which is Gen. Crook’s door?” repeated the Confederate,
threateningly.
“Specs you mought fin’ him in dar, sah, but I ain’t gwine to
tell, kase—”
But the reason was lost to the listener, for at the first indica-
tion which the cautious darkey gave he had turned to the door
to which he had nodded, and now knocked.
“Come in,” calls the general, awaking with true soldierly
instinct at the first call of duty or danger.
In acceptance of the invitation, Vandiver, with a light in his
left hand and a pistol half concealed in his right, enters.
“This is Gen. Crook, I presume?”
“I am, sir.”
“I am Gen. Rosser, sir; you are my prisoner. You will please
dress immediately and accompany me.”
Gen. Crook stared a moment at the new comer, as if he would
doubt the evidence of his own senses, but was speedily aroused
to the reality of the circumstances by Vandiver’s impatient.
“Here are your clothes, General; you had better put them on
unless you prefer to go as you are.”
The officer, thoroughly awakened by such a decided command,
dressed himself rapidly, and in a few moments followed his cap-
tor down stairs. The rendezvous was speedily reached, and the
force, once more reunited, rode out of town. More than once
they are stopped by the pickets. -
“Halt I Who goes there 7”
“Friends, with the countersign.”
“Dismount, one ; advance, and give the countersign.”
“No time to dismount; enemy reported near by,” Lieut. Mc-
Capturing Two Generals. 595
Neill would answer, as he rode up to the picket and gave the
password.
“Sent out on a reconnoissance 7”
“Yes, Gen. Crook wants their movements carefully watched.”
“Go in and win; give 'em pepper, or anything else that’s hot.”
“O, you may bet your bottom dollar we’re the boys for that.”
“Cold night, though.”
“We'll make it hot for the enemy.”
So they filed past the pickets in the outer line. But of course
they were by no means safe, even after they had crossed the Po-
tomac ; for they would certainly be pursued as soon as the cap-
ture of the two generals should be discovered; and they could
not hope that it would remain a secret after morning had dawned,
even if it should not be betrayed before. They rode rapidly,
the rearguard being specially cautioned as to the necessity for
the greatest vigilance. They reached Romney about eight in
the morning, and had not left it far behind them when the rear-
guard reported a force of Federal cavalry, about equal to their
own numbers, in pursuit. Several shots were exchanged be-
tween the two detachments, but the Feds were not anxious to
bring on an engagement with a force of unknown strength and
daring courage that was only too well known, while the Rebs
were only too anxious to escape with their prisoners to their
own lines.
When they passed Moorefield, about two o'clock in the after-
noon, the rearguard again gave the alarm ; but the Yankees ap-
peared to have procured reinforcements, as they numbered about
two hundred. But, far as their force exceeded that of the re-
treating party, they were not equal to an attack, as they had
galloped their horses thirty-five miles, starting when the alarm
was first given, and being fired with zeal to recapture their com-
mander.
As Lieut. McNeill afterwards learned, several large forces,
numbering nearly ten times as many men as his own, were sent
out in different directions to intercept him ; but he escaped with-
out the loss of a man, and carried his prisoners safely to the
Confederate lines, where they were delivered up to the proper
authorities. Gen. Early, on hearing of the capture, decided that
the man who could plan and execute such a daring expedition
was fit to lead the men who had followed him on that occasion ;
and Lieut. McNeill was accordingly commissioned captain of
38
596 - Capturing Two Generals.
the company of Rangers which his father had raised, and which,
in accordance with the custom of the times, bore his name.
Thus the son worthily perpetuated the fame of the sire by a gal-
lant exploit hardly excelled in bold conception and skillful ex-
ecution by any during the whole war.
ſºrted LXVIII.
DETERMINED TO ESCAPE.
A spirited Engagement—A Victory Barren of Trophies—Disposition of the Prison-
ers—Prison Pastimes—Base Ball —“Opinions of the Press”—Better Sport—
Efforts to Escape—Tunneling—Failure—A Drunken Driver—Almost Free-
Recaptured—A Daring Plan—Scaling the Parapet—He Escapes—Almost in
Canada—Retaken by Farmers—Spirit Broken—Spirit Gets Mended—Busy at
Work—A Wonderful Achievement—“An Escape Planned”—Guards Doubled
—Strict Examination—Review of Inspecting Party—Discovery of Prisoner
Among Them — A Sensible and Generous Officer—Remanded to Prison —
How He Was Freed.
|FTER the battle of Gettysburg, the Confederate forces re-
treated to Virginia, closely pursued by the victorious
Federals. Several months passed, and the great Virginian had
so far retrieved his losses that, early in November, 1863, he was
able to turn upon Gen. Meade, and drive him back across the
Rapidan. But a portion of the Federal army was ordered to ad-
vance, as the main force halted ; it did so, and attacked a Con-
federate brigade which had been stationed north of the Rappa-
hannock. The assailing force numbered ten to one of those at-
tacked; and though the gallant Louisianians fought with all the
fury of their Southern blood, the odds were too great. Cut off
from their own pontoon bridge, a few escaped by swimming the
icy stream ; others died in the attempt; many more fell on the
field; and as night closed around them, the remnant of the brig-
ade felt that the case was indeed a hopeless one.
They had fought bravely, and had not yielded until the last
moment; yet, in giving up, each man was actuated by a grim re-
solve that the victory, dearly bought as it was, should afford but
few trophies to the enemy. The color-bearer of one regiment
tore the battle-flag from the staff and thrust it into the bosom of
597
598 Letermined to Escape.
his overshirt, then yielded up the bare staff. One young officer,
on being summoned to surrender his sword, broke it across
his knee and handed the hilt to his antagonist. What became
of the broken blade is not recorded ; but the battle-flag, hastily
removed from its place of concealment, was, by the advice of
several officers, committed to the camp-fire around which the
prisoners were grouped; and was thus saved from falling into
the hands of the enemy.
On the morning after their capture, the prisoners were trans-
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Old Capitol Prison.
ferred from this camp to the Old Capitol Prison, where they re-
mained three days; at the expiration of that time, the officers
were sent to Johnson's Island and the privates to Point Lookout.
It is at this stage of the proceedings that our story properly be-
gins; the scene being laid in that famous military prison near
Sandusky, Ohio; and the hero, the same young officer who had
broken his sword before giving it up—Lieut. C. H. Pierce, of
the Seventh Louisiana.
Arrived at Johnson’Island, they were all, of course, in the
slough of despond for many days; but most of them were young,
and of a fun-loving, make-the-best-of-it disposition, and they soon












































































Determined to Escape. 599
engaged in various plans for killing time. Many and various
were the means adopted; but none combined the advantages of
vigorous out-door exercise and keen competition so well as base
ball. What is now the “National Game” had come into promi-
nence some twenty years before the time of which we write, but
had sunk into insignificance besides that “iron game” which was
being played between North and South. The playing of the pris-
oners, then, attracted much more attention from the people of
Sandusky than it would have done had the game been more fre-
quently seen; and when the final match between the “Confeder-
ates” and the “Southrons” was played, fully three thousand per-
sons were present to behold the victory of the gallant “South-
rons.”
The prison authorities had feared that the zeal of the prison-
ers for the sport might be merely a blind, to enable them to es-
cape; and whenever a game was played, extra guards were on
duty. On this last occasion, the slides of the port-holes were
drawn back, and the guns were made ready for instant use, in
case the players should make a run for the “home base.” But
the precautions proved needless, for nothing of the kind was at-
tempted. The commandant of the post, however, was severely
censured by the more violent newspapers for allowing the pris-
oners so much liberty; the torrents of denunciation reached
Washington, and he was removed, to make room for a more vig-
orous disciplinarian.
Even had it not been made thus impossible, base ball had lost
its charms in the eyes of men who longed only for freedom, and
who merely engaged in these pastimes to keep from feeling the
pressure of their chains. All of the recreations possible to pris-
oners were tried, practiced for a time, and then thrown aside in
disgust. Only one occupation retained, throughout, the charm
which at first invested it, and that was the laying of plans to es-
cape. Chief among those who indulged in this pastime was
Lieut. Pierce, whose untiring efforts we would here relate.
The first mode of escape that suggests itself to men weary of
prison life is a tunnel, extending from their cells to some point
beyond the walls. It was this means, then, that Pierce and
some of his companions in misfortune resolved to adopt. A tun-
nel was begun from a cell carefully selected as affording excel-
lent opportunities for concealing the work ; but the proposed
route was found to be too long. The work was carefully un-
600 Determined to Escape.
done, then, and another point selected as the the inner opening
of the tunnel. But this second cell was lighter and more public
than the first, which was so dark that nothing but a thorough
search would have revealed the excavations. The project was
suspected, and only a few hours before they were to attempt
that for which they had worked so long, the whole affair was
discovered. Thus ended their first attempt. The participators
were of course punished by the withdrawal, for a time, of all the
privileges allowed; the strength of the guard was increased ;
inspections were more frequent and thorough than ever; and the
prisoners began to think that an opportunity for escape would
never occur again. -
Not so, however, with our hero. Failure was to him no more
than a warning that he must succeed next time; and he occupied
the long and weary days which he spent in the dungeon, not in
repenting of his attempt, nor even in lamenting its failure, but
in thinking out some other plan which, on his return to the or-
dinary cell, he might put into practice. But even his busy brain
could suggest none that seemed likely to be any more success-
ful than the last.
Some weeks passed on, and our friends of the tunnel affair
were released from “durance vile” in the cells reserved for pun-
ishment of offenders, and restored to the privileges which their
less venturesome companions enjoyed. The scare was over, and
the prison officials had settled down to a course less laborious
than the great vigilance at first exercised, but still by no means
a careless way of attending to their duties. It was merely an
accident, for which, of course, his superiors were in no way to
blame, that the soldier who drove the offal cart was one morn-
ing so intoxicated that he could hardly keep his seat. Lieut.
Pierce watched him as, with drunken gravity, he endeavored to
sit very erect and drive very straight; and he at once saw that
here was an opportunity for another attempt.
Fortunately for the Confederate’s plans, the work of loading
up the cart occupied some little time; and the driver, dismount-
ing from his perch, was soon fast asleep on one of the wooden
benches which adorned the prison-yard. If a drunken man once
fall asleep, what can awaken him before that intolerable thirst
begins? At any rate, it seemed as if nothing could rouse this
one; for not even when Tieut. Pierce removed his overcoat did
he stir. His cap had fallen from his head, and lay on the ground
Determined to Escape. 601
beside him. Hastily donning both overcoat and cap, the Con-
federate mounted the cart, and took possession of the lines. His
impromptu disguise deceived the sentinels stationed at the gate,
and he drove onward with much outward unconcern and much
inward rejoicing.
He had passed the parapet, and was beginning to think that
he was to regain his freedom. But he had not been able to re-
move the traces of his escape. It required no great vigilance on
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Changing Clothes with the Drunken Soldier.
the part of the guard to discover the drunken driver asleep on
the settee; and the find immediately suggested the question :
Who had taken his place and driven the cart out 7 It must be
one of the prisoners, and the hue and cry was raised at once. A
squad was sent in pursuit; the fugitive was recaptured, and
taken back to the dungeon from which he had so recently been
released ; and thus ended the second attempt.
Hardly had his term of solitary confinement expired, than he
began to think of some other plan ; but it seemed as if the guards
were more than doubly watchful of all the prisoners, and be-
stowed especial attention on him. Indeed, the fact that he had




























602 Determined to Escape.
planned two attempts to escape, both of which were so nearly
successful, made every movement suspicious, and for a long time
no opportunity presented itself.
Among the more daring and venturesome spirits confined on
Johnson's Island were two young officers, Lieut. Wheeler, of
Morgan’s Cavalry, and Lieut. Bowles, a cousin of Lieut. Pierce
and a member of the same regiment. In these two he found as ar-
dent a desire to escape as that which animated him, and after
much discussion of possibilities, they hit upon a plan. Their
games of base ball in the preceding spring had revived and per-
fected their old boyish skill in throwing; and they now pro-
posed to scale the parapet and attack the sentinels with stones,
since they had no other weapons. Scaling ladders were accord-
ingly made as speedily and secretly as possible; a single pistol
was obtained by some mysterious means, and lots being drawn
for its possession, it fell to Lieut. Wheeler.
Some twelve miles from Johnson's Island there is a strip of
land, marshy and covered with a dense growth of trees, which
extends to the Canada side. It was now midwinter, and the
lake was frozen over hard enough for them to reach this strip
of land, whence they could get to the Canadian woods. Once in
the dominions of Queen Victoria, they hoped to find that shel-
ter and protection which, it was said at the time, her subjects
were always ready to give to Southerners. *
The ladders were made, and put in position. Pierce was the first
to reach the top of the parapet, and a well-aimed stone from his
hand laid the nearest sentinel senseless on the ground. But they
were seen by more than one ; and as Bowles’ head was seen
above the wall, another Federal took hasty but well-directed
aim. He fell backward with a groan. -
“I’m killed, Charley,” he exclaimed, as Pierce turned to see
why he had fallen; “but push on and leave me to my fate. God
speed you.”
The words, faintly spoken as they were, reached the man to
whom they were addressed ; and as the prayer was uttered, the
speaker’s life ebbed away. In the meantime, Pierce being shel-
tered by the wall as he leaned towards his cousin, Wheeler and
the sentinel had exchanged shots; but neither took effect; and
the Confederate, having expended his one load, was forced to
retreat down his ladder to captivity again. Not so with his
companion. Pierce dashed past the sentinel before he had time
Determined to Escape. 603
to reload, and was soon far away upon the ice. The strip of land
was gained, and, plunging into the woods, he directed his steps
towards Canada.
In the meantime, the sentinel, thinking it would be useless to
pursue such a fleet-footed fugitive, gave the alarm to the corpo-
ral of the guard, and efforts were at once made to recapture the
escaped prisoner. Signal-guns, indicating to every one around
the fort what was the state of affairs, were fired at certain inter-
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vals; while they endeavored to break the ice by means of solid
shot. Pierce heard the boom of the guns, and hastened onward.
All night long he journeyed through the thick darkness of the
forest, able to direct his course only by occasional glimpses of
the stars. Soon the Canadian shore would be reached, and he
would be safe.
A heavy reward was offered for the apprehension of any es-
caped prisoner; and whenever the signal-guns at the fort indi-
cated that this reward was to be earned, the farmers in the neigh-
borhood turned out in force. So they did on this occasion ; and
armed with muskets, scoured the woods far and near. Although
physically they had much the advantage of the man who was
worn down by more than a year of prison life, yet his desire for

604 Determined to Escape.
freedom added so much to his natural speed and endurance, that,
although they set out almost the instant the warning was given,
they sought him in vain all night. Daylight came, and just as
the prisoner began to think that by keeping up this rate of speed
two or three hours longer, he would have so distanced his pur-
suers as to make it possible for him to rest, he found himself
Surrounded by the armed farmers.
Defenseless as he was, he could do nothing but surrender,
though it was with a feeling of intense humiliation that he gave
himself up to civilians; to have been recaptured by soldiers would
not have been half so bad. But no matter by whom retaken, back
to the island he must go ; and thus ended attempt the third.
Three times he had been very near success, and had been re-
captured. But, as we have seen, failure only inspired him to
new and more ingenious efforts. This time, however, it seemed
to his captors that his spirit was completely broken; he had no
longer the energy to attempt such a thing again, even if the strict
watch they kept upon him had permitted it. They thought that
he had despaired of freedom until released by the ordinary
course of events, in the case of prisoners of war, or until
“The terms of his cartel his God had arranged,
And the victim of prisons at last been exchanged.”
But if the prison officials felt any pity in their hard hearts for
the daring youth who seemed to be so crushed by his repeated
failures, it was wasted upon an unworthy object. His melan-
choly demeanor was assumed as a blind, and intended to de-
ceive, not only the Federal authorities, but his own comrades;
lest the interest of the latter in his work might arouse the sus-
picion of the guards. For when they thought that Lieut. Pierce
was moping in his cell, he was busily at work on a certain arti-
cle, the construction of which occupied every available moment
for full five months. -
Of course the secret could not be kept from all, and his more
intimate friends, in the course of time, became aware of the plan
which he had formed. Day after day they watched the progress
of the work with the keenest interest; interest only increased
by the necessity of concealing it from the guards, who were al-
ways ready to suspect Pierce, even though he appeared so des-
pondent. Slowly, under the rude and clumsy tools so skillfully
wielded by his patient hands, a piece of the rough wood that was
so plentiful about the prison grew into the shape of a gunstock;
Determined to Escape. 605
a piece of the handle of a camp-kettle was fashioned into a lock;
the tin fruit cans, the contents of which had been used in the
hospital, were made into the barrel and guard. A rusty bayo-
net was a prize of inestimable value that chanced to fall in
his way; and diligent rubbing soon restored it to its original
shining splendor.
How he stained the white wood so that it closely resembled
the ordinary stock is still unknown; nor is it recorded how he
obtained a complete uniform of blue cloth. But both ends were
accomplished, and early in the spring of 1865 he was ready for
the fourth attempt to escape “from his dire prison house, by
Erie's bleak shore.” One of his friends, Lieut. Michael Long,
was to assist him. It was necessary that the guard should be
changed at night, that in the confusion resulting from an unusu-
al movement, he might be able to accomplish the first part of
his plan unobserved. Accordingly, Lieut. Long “interviewed”
the guard under whose special charge they were, and with many
requests that the Federal would not let the prisoners suspect
who had given the information, divulged the important secret
that there was to be an attempt to escape made in Block Eight
that night.
The informer was warmly thanked, and the corporal of the
guard summoned. But he judged it a matter too important for
him to assume responsibility, and submitted the case to the offi-
cer of the guard. Every precaution was at once taken to pre-
vent the success of the attempt; a double guard was ordered
out for the night, and just at sunset a party of inspection made
the rounds. Every cell was closely scrutinized, but no evidence
of a tunnel or other mode of escape was found. The inspecting
party fell into line, and marched out of the prison yard.
They had seen no evidence of an attempt to escape; they did
not dream that it was being made before their very eyes. As
they reformed after the inspection, one of the blue-coated sol-
diers that fell into line had been better used to wearing a gray
uniform; and his musket had been fabricated by his own cunning
fingers. It was, in fact, no other than our friend Lieut. Pierce, and
all this alarm about an escape to be attempted was a part of his
plot to get away from Johnson's Island. Long's information
was true, but the Federals did not understand it any better than
he had intended that they should.
The inspecting party marched out of the prison yard, and at
606 Determined to Escape.
the word of command, halted and faced about, to be themselves
inspected. The lieutenant in command ran his keen eye over
the line of men standing bolt upright before him.
“Where's your cartridge-box, sir?” he demanded of one,
sternly. -
“I–I—the fact is, sir, we fell in so suddenly, I forgot it,”
stammered the delinquent, with more real regret that he had for-
gotten it than ever was felt before by soldier who had offended
in a similar manner.
“Where's your cartridge boa 2"
“A pretty soldier you are Suppose the Rebels were to at-
tack us now 7” (Delinquent sincerely wished they would, but
managed to look very much alarmed.) “Let me see your gun.”
Pierce drew himself up to his full height, perhaps to counter-
act the sinking of his heart, and presented the weapon in due
form. Iſe knew that he had been detected, or, rather, would be
as soon as the Federal had felt the weight of his gun; he knew
too, that it was simply from having forgotten to make an article
which presented not a tenth of the difficulties he had overcome
in the case of the gun. IIe had surmounted the great obstacles,

Determined to Escape. 607
but had stumbled and fallen over the very least that could have
been presented.
The Federal lieutenant detected the true state of affairs as
soon as he took the sham gun in his hands, for it was of course
very much lighter than the regulation weapon. The prisoner
was taken before Col. Charles W. Hill, of the 112th Ohio, and to
that officer the particulars of the attempt were recounted. For-
tunately for Lieut. Pierce, the colonel was a man whose good
sense and native generosity had not been overcome by partisan
feeling. He of course took possession of the blue uniform and
the gun, for that was no more than his duty demanded ; but he
recognized the right of a prisoner to escape if he can elude or
outwit his guards, and did not subject him to any of the punish-
ments which in military prisons so often rewarded unsuccessful
efforts to regain liberty. He even complimented the Confeder-
ate on the ingenuity of his plans and his patience and skill in
carrying them out; but compliments, even from an enemy's
lips, were but poor consolation for the failure of the plan for
which he had worked so long and from which he had hoped so
much.
So sure were his comrades that he would succeed, that they
fixed his bunk to look as if he were covered up in it, and were
ready to answer, at roll-call the next morning, that he was sick;
this course being intended to conceal his escape long enough to
give him a good start. But he was there to answer for himself;
and thus ended the fourth attempt.
It was the last ; for soon after came the news that Lee had
surrendered; then, that his subordinates, in various parts of the
South, had laid down their arms, and the Confederacy was dead.
The men confined in the various military prisons were benumb-
ed by the news. That which they had feared had come to pass,
and even when liberated, they could do no more for the cause
to which they had sworn allegiance. There was now no
reason why any of them should attempt to escape; yet a little
while longer, and they should be duly released. Even Lieut.
Pierce made no further effort, but waited, with as much patience
as he could command, until the Order came for officers of his
rank to be paroled and released.
The gun, which was so close an imitation of the real article, is
still in existence, and is said, by those who have seen it, to be a
marvel of workmanship, when the tools and materials are con-
608 Determined to Escape.
sidered. Originally placed in the archives of the State of Ohio,
it was subsequently claimed by the maker's relatives, and by
them presented, if we mistake not, to the Southern Historical
Society, in whose possession it still remains.
The story, as it reaches us, is told by other persons than the
one directly concerned, and thus lacks many details which could
be supplied by no one else; but his death occurred so soon after
the War (1867) that the time had not come to tell the story; he
judged that it was the duty of each soldier to return wholly to
the pursuits of peace, leaving the memories of the War until
they should be softened by time.
7609
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