THE UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 THE WILMER COLLECTION 
 
 OF CIVIL WAR NOVELS 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 RICHARD H. W'lLMER, JR. 
 
£lLMEaOOUiuCilUKM 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/heroinhomespunta01bart 
 
A Hero in Homespun 
 
The Spinning- Wheel in the Porch. Page 112. 
 
Hero in Homespun 
 
 A Tale of the L>oyal South 
 
 By 
 
 William E. Barton 
 
 Author of Life in the Hills of Kentucky, etc. 
 
 Lamson, Wolffe and Company 
 
 Boston, New York and London 
 MDCCCXCVII 
 
Copyright, 1897, 
 By Lamson, WolfFe and Company. 
 
 All rights reser-ved. 
 
 Noriuood Press 
 
 J. S. Gushing (Sf Co. — Berwick & Smith 
 
 Norwood Mass. U. S. A. 
 
To Her 
 
 Who spent the First Tears of our Married Life 
 
 with Me in the Mountains of Kentucky 
 
 and Tennessee 
 
 And whose Presence and Inspiration 
 
 abide to this Day 
 
 602712 
 
Preface 
 
 How much of this book is history and how 
 much is fiction will be apparent to readers familiar 
 with the history. To extend popular knowledge 
 of the Civil War as it affected a large but almost 
 unrecognized body of our people, this volume has 
 been written. The form of fiction has been em- 
 ployed to permit a larger use of incident and per- 
 sonal experience, and to allow greater freedom of 
 treatment, but the historical background is believed 
 to be true to fact. I have thought well not to 
 locate too definitely the home of my principal char- 
 acters. The name and some of the characteristics 
 of Roundstone Creek, in Rockcastle County, Ken- 
 tucky, have been borrowed and removed to a valley 
 some fifty miles remote. With this exception, the 
 geography of the book is correct. 
 
 I have had to allow my characters freedom of 
 speech, even though they sometimes speak unwisely 
 or too harshly. They lived in a day when men's 
 passions ran high, and it would misrepresent them 
 to tone down their utterances to the more temperate 
 spirit of our time. I need not explain that I do not 
 
viii Preface 
 
 in every case share the views expressed. I should 
 feel grieved if any word herein contained should 
 seem to breathe a present spirit of bitterness. Seven 
 years of residence in the South taught me how great 
 is the need of charity in our judgments upon those 
 to whom the war involved such momentous choices 
 as it did the people of the South. The South to- 
 day is loyal, and a considerable part of it has always 
 been so. 
 
 I desire to thank the friends — too many to be 
 named — who during the last twelve years have 
 aided me in the securing of incidents for this under- 
 taking. For aid in gathering historical material, I 
 am especially indebted to Mr. Arthur M. Knapp 
 of the Boston Public Library. 1 wish also to 
 acknowledge the courtesy of the railroads passing 
 to and through the region described, — the Big 
 Four ; the Southern ; the Queen and Crescent ; the 
 Nashville, Chattanooga, and St. Louis ; the Louis- 
 ville and Nashville ; and the Knoxville, Cumberland 
 Gap, and Louisville. These, on our recent tour of 
 three thousand miles, placed all possible facilities at 
 the disposal of author and artist for the careful 
 study of the field. 
 
 Thrice in the history of our country, at King's 
 Mountain, at the battle of New Orleans, and in the 
 Civil War, the homespun hero of the southern 
 Appalachians has emerged from his obscurity and 
 
Preface ix 
 
 turned the tide of battle. Thrice he has returned 
 to his mountain fastnesses and been forgotten. I 
 have called him forth again, and am sending him 
 out in hope that he may be better known to his 
 countrymen. I have seen him in his home, and 
 have great respect for his whole-souled hospitality. 
 I have followed his track where he stained with 
 patriotic blood a score of battlefields. I have con- 
 fidence that he will be loved the more as he comes 
 to be known the better, and that his great work will 
 not forever fail of cordial recognition. And so to 
 my Hero in Homespun, as he enters somewhat 
 bashfully a world that is mostly new to him, I bid 
 a hearty Godspeed and farewell. 
 
 W. E. B. 
 
 Boston, Sept. i, 1897. 
 
Contents 
 
 Chapter 
 
 
 Page 
 
 I. 
 
 The Frolic at Hanson's . . . . 
 
 I 
 
 II. 
 
 The Soldier's Farewell . . . . 
 
 21 
 
 in. 
 
 To Fight for the Flag . . . . 
 
 . 36 
 
 IV. 
 
 Toward the Promised Land 
 
 • 54 
 
 V. 
 
 The Battle of Wild Cat Mountain . 
 
 . 65 
 
 VI. 
 
 The Fighting Parson . . . . 
 
 • 74 
 
 VII. 
 
 Burning the Bridges . . . . 
 
 . 87 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Retreat from a Vanquished Foe 
 
 100 
 
 IX. 
 
 A Loyal Deserter .... 
 
 108 
 
 X. 
 
 Sunday at Sevierville 
 
 . 123 
 
 XI. 
 
 Exile and Prison . . . . . 
 
 • 131 
 
 XII. 
 
 Jack's First Journey by Rail 
 
 . 149 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Jack's Return to his Regiment . 
 
 • 158 
 
 XIV. 
 
 The Battle of Mill Spring 
 
 . 172 
 
 XV. 
 
 A Duel in the Dark 
 
 . 182 
 
 XVI. 
 
 If Thine Enemy Hunger 
 
 192 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Parson Brownlow's Release 
 
 • 199 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 How a Woman Saved an Army 
 xi 
 
 . 205 
 
xii 
 
 Contents 
 
 
 Chapter 
 
 
 Page 
 
 XIX. 
 
 The Plucky Women of Scott County 
 
 215 
 
 XX. 
 
 The Capture of Cumberland Gap . 
 
 222 
 
 XXI. 
 
 A Great and Forgotten Battle 
 
 227 
 
 XXII. 
 
 The Secret of the Sinks 
 
 244 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 In Secret Service .... 
 
 258 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Out of the Frying Pan 
 
 272 
 
 XXV. 
 
 On This Side of the River and on That . 
 
 281 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 The Batde of Stone River 
 
 292 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Fort Sanders and Lookout Mountain 
 
 • 3" 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Mary Gossett's Baby .... 
 
 334 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 The Heart of Bessie Granger 
 
 • 343 
 
 XXX. 
 
 The Thaw in Nashville 
 
 • 356 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 How^ Jack Met the Enemy . 
 
 . 367 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 The Last Fight 
 
 . 380 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 The Rag and the Fiddle 
 
 388 
 
List of Illustrations 
 
 I. The Spinning-wheel in the Porch 
 
 II. The Rescue of Cub .... 
 
 III. The Burning of the Bridges 
 
 IV. Mrs. Casey's Warning to Parson Brownlow 
 V. Jack meets an Old Acquaintance 
 
 VI. The Plucky Women of Scott County . 
 
 VII. The Secret of the Sinks 
 
 VIII. On This Side of the River and on That 
 
 IX. A Night Ride on Stone River 
 
 X. The Flag and the Fiddle . 
 
 Page 
 . Frontispiece i i 2 
 
 70 
 
 90 
 
 iz8 
 
 175 
 
 221 
 
 257 
 289 
 
A Hero in Homespun 
 
 A 'Tale of the Loyal South 
 
 I 
 
 The Frolic at Hanson's 
 
 " •^ OIN' acrost to Hanson's, Jack ? " 
 
 ■ -w- " Bimeby. Ma's goin' atter while to 
 V_-^ help with the supper. I'll wait an' pack 
 some dishes over for her. You're goin' 
 early." 
 
 "Yes. I allers 'low to be on time to a frolic. 
 I'm fust to git thar an' the last to leave, or cal'/^/^ 
 to be. That was the way with Washington, I've 
 heerd : he was fust for war, an' the last fur peace, 
 an' allers ready fur a hoedown." 
 
 " You got yer fiddle, Steph, I see. Goin' to be 
 any dancin' ? " 
 
 " Wall, not so awful much, I reckon. The Han- 
 sons is professors, but not right strict about sech 
 like. Hank ast me to bring the fiddle over, an' 
 sorter see wich way the cat jumped. Ef Mis' Han- 
 son don't say nothin' agin it, an' they ain't no reason 
 wy not, wy mebby I'll see how rosin sounds on 
 catgut. But they didn't want to say nothin' 'bout 
 it, fur Preacher Tate don't Hke it, an' they belong 
 to his church." 
 
 "Yes, I knowed they was Babtis'. But they ain't 
 quite so strict as the Methodis'." 
 
A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " The Reglar Babtis' hain't, but Preacher Tate 
 is Hardshell. He hates a fiddle wus'n pizen. 
 Wall, I mus' be goin'. They hain't goin' to be no 
 fun till I git thar, as the feller said wen he was 
 goin' ter be hung." Steph Crowell patted his fiddle 
 with the end of his fingers, and picked a little at the 
 strings. " By the way. Jack, have you seen them 
 kinfolks o' the Hansons' that's visitin' from Kain- 
 tuck ? " 
 
 " Yes, I ben over two or three times sence they 
 come. Hank ast me to come acrost an' visit with 
 his cousin Eph." 
 
 " With Eph, hey ? I 'lowed hit war the gal. 
 They say she's a main scorcher. Sam Marshall 
 told me he seed her at church the secon' Sunday, 
 wen they was preachin' at Liberty Hill, — ole 
 Preacher Post preaches thar the secon' Sunday, 
 — an' he 'lowed she was purty as a picter. He 
 means to shine up to her to-night. Ef I didn't 
 hev to fiddle, I'd give him the wust possum hunt 
 fur her ever he seed. But hit's the penalty o' bein' 
 vartuous, an' makin' fun for the res', to hev to set 
 by an' see hit, an' not have none theirselves. Say, 
 Jack, is she purty ? " 
 
 " I didn't notice p'tic'lar," said Jack, coloring. 
 " She's good lookin' enough, I reckon." 
 
 "You didn't notice, ha, ha! You kin lie, Jack, 
 cyain't ye ? You didn't notice, hey ? Well, you 
 bes' ter look to-night, an' look sharp ef ye mean 
 ter keep in with her." 
 
 Jack was evidently interested, but he changed the 
 subject. " How's politics ? " he asked. 
 
 " Sho 'nuff," said Steph. " I come by to ast ye, 
 
The Frolic at Hanson's 
 
 an' plumb forgot huccum I ter come. I hain't seen 
 ye sence the Greenville Convention. You was one 
 o' the delegates, warn't ye ? You'd best be a leetle 
 mite keerful. What d'ye 'low ter do ? " 
 
 " We 'low to have an election the first Thursday 
 in August," said Jack, " an' see whether East Ten- 
 nessy has got to go out o' the Union against her 
 will." 
 
 " She won't go ef she don' hatter, that's plain 
 enough. But I don't reckon hit's wuth wile to 
 raise no dirt about hit. Hit's a groundhog case, as 
 the feller said." 
 
 " I don't see why East Tennessy should go out 
 o' the Union when she voted at two elections 
 eighteen thousand clean majority against it." 
 
 " But ye see, Jack, the hull State voted agin 
 
 separation in Febuary, an' changed its mind come 
 
 J>> 
 
 " East Tennessy didn't change its mind." 
 
 " No, my boy. But the vote didn't hold up to 
 the vote in the winter." 
 
 " No, but that's easy 'nuff to account for. Still, 
 it was three to one against separation. They was 
 about as many votes cast for the Union as in the 
 winter, but they counted more votes for separa- 
 tion. 
 
 " They voted a hull raft o' Jeff Davis' sojers, an' 
 counted them in East Tennessy's vote. Hit didn't 
 seem har'ly square, did hit ? " 
 
 " Hit was a plumb shame ! " cried Jack. 
 
 Steph threw one leg over the horn of his saddle, 
 and leaned his elbow on his knee, holding his sandy 
 chin whiskers in his hand. This was his attitude of 
 
A Hero in Homespun 
 
 seriousness. The bobbing of Steph's chin when he 
 laughed, and the twisting of it when he made 
 his grimaces, always seemed to indicate with the 
 sharp end of his beard the point of his joke. There 
 was often vaguely discernible an undercurrent of 
 seriousness in his joking, but when he became 
 thoughtfully sober, he held fast to his chin as the 
 unruly member. 
 
 "You best be keerful. Jack," he said. " I'm ten 
 year an' better older'n you, an' I hain't tangled up 
 with no fambly. Ef I was in your place, I'd go 
 slow. Public sentiment's changin'. In the winter 
 the hull State wanted to stay in the Union, but the 
 Governor and the Legislater passed an audience of 
 secession, an' Fort Sumpter was fired on an' tuck, 
 an' the people seed that the South was goin' to the 
 devil an' the State was goin' with hit, an' they jes' 
 'lowed they mought as well git in out o' the wet. 
 Now, you look at this here county. Granger voted 
 sixteen hundred to a hundred an' fifty-eight for the 
 Union. That was in Febuary. In June, when 
 Guv'nor Harris had passed that audience of seces- 
 sion, the vote stood about six hundred for the 
 South to fifteen hundred for the Union. That's 
 a big difference." 
 
 " How did you vote ? " asked Jack. 
 
 "Wall, that would be tellin'. But hit was this 
 way. I've alers ben unfortunit." Here Steph let 
 go of his chin for a moment. " You know that's 
 wy I never got married. I couldn't sorter seem to 
 make up my mind. I'd think I liked a gal, an' 
 then in would come another, an' atwixt 'em I'd git 
 all hesitated up. I'm sorter lack the mule, you 
 
The Frolic at Hanson's 5 
 
 know, that starved to death halfway betwixt two 
 haystacks. Well, now, when the fust election come, 
 I voted for the Union, sho 'nufF. But when the 
 June election come, I seed them Johnny Rebs at 
 the polls, votin' theirselves an' watchin' how others 
 voted, an' I says, says I, I'll split the difference. 
 So I voted * For Separation,' but ' Agin Representa- 
 tion,' in the secesh convention." 
 
 " You'll have a chance to vote agin come the first 
 Thursday in next month," said Jack. " The Con- 
 vention at Greenville adopted resolutions protesting 
 against the action of the Governor and Legislature, 
 and calling this election to make East Tennessy a 
 separate State. We'll have our rights in a new, free 
 commonwealth." 
 
 " I hope so. Jack. When you fellers git your 
 new State, I'll come in an' run fur office. But don't 
 say so too loud till ye git it done, or the rebs will 
 arrest ye, an' then ye know yer got yer choice o' 
 three things, — take the oath to defend the South, 
 jine the rebs, or go to jail. Wall, this is pleasant, 
 as the gal said about sparkin', but hit won't pay the 
 preacher. I mus' go on. Look out for Sam Mar- 
 shall. He's as sure to git that gal as ten cents is 
 to buy ginger cake o' county cote day. Ef you let 
 him git her, I'll fiddle fur him same's fur you. The 
 fiddle's no respecter of persons, as the preacher says." 
 
 Jack stood at the fence for a few moments as 
 Steph rode on. He was six feet tall, with brown 
 hair that had just a touch of red, blue eyes whose 
 pupils dilated at times till they seemed almost black, 
 a fine brow, and a moustache that had survived the 
 uncertain color of its first attempt and grown to a 
 
A Hero in Homespun 
 
 reddish brown. He was dressed up for the party 
 now, in gray jeans trousers and unstarched white 
 shirt. His coat was omitted till the last minute, 
 but that also was of gray homespun jeans. Eliza- 
 beth Casey, who came to the door to say that she 
 was almost ready to start, saw her son standing by 
 the rail fence, the descending July sun lighting up 
 his hair, and thought there was no boy in the neigh- 
 borhood to compare with him. 
 
 " I'll come in a minute, mother," said Jack. " I'll 
 go 'round to the barn a minute an' see to Jerry." 
 
 The horse whinnied as he came in sight, and 
 Jack pulled a handful of unthrashed oats from a 
 bundle and fed him from his hand. 
 
 " Want more, do ye ? Well, ye- shan't have an- 
 other head. I've done fed ye a' ready. Well, yer 
 a mighty fine boy, anyhow. I'll give ye just another 
 handful." 
 
 He tossed the bundle back into the bay and sat 
 down on an upturned bucket. 
 
 " Take the oath, jine the rebs, or go to jail, is it," 
 he said to himself. " That's mighty slim pickin' 
 fur choice. An' I don't reckon I could git into the 
 Union army so fur away, an' I don't want to leave 
 ma, nohow. I wonder ef Steph is as big a coward 
 as he lets on." Then suddenly changing the sub- 
 ject, he said to himself, " She is pretty, sure enough. 
 Sam Marshall wants her, does he ? Well, we'll see 
 ef Sam Marshall gits her." 
 
 The mountaineer mingles a clannish regard for 
 family connections with an inconsistent disregard 
 of ancestry. Who a man's brother is, is a matter 
 of importance ; but who was his grandfather, few 
 
The Frolic at Hanson's 
 
 men care. But the Caseys possessed some family- 
 records, supplemented by tradition, which told the 
 main events of their family life for several genera- 
 tions. It was in 1837 that James Casey, Jack's 
 father, married Elizabeth Sevier, whose name told 
 of her descent from the old hero of King's Mountain 
 and the free state of Franklin, and moved from his 
 father's house near Elizabethtown, down the Holston 
 River to the home where Jack was born. There the 
 young couple began life in a pole cabin, at first un- 
 chinked, and with a stick chimney, and " made their 
 first crap o' corn " in the little deadening chopped 
 by his axe. When he died, Elizabeth held the home 
 and trained up her son in the way he should go. 
 
 James Casey was born near the close of the War 
 of 1 8 12, whose earlier engagements had been almost 
 unknown in the mountains of East Tennessee. But 
 the closing events gave to the region and to Alpheus 
 Casey, James' father, a full share of struggle and 
 of unrecorded glory ; for the battle of New Orleans, 
 when Old Hickory held the city with his cotton- 
 bale fort, was won largely by Tennesseeans, and was 
 fought with powder made in East Tennessee, of salt- 
 petre leached from the earth in its caves, and of 
 charcoal burned in its forests. In this patriotic 
 work, superintended by Samuel McSpadden, of 
 Jefferson County, Alpheus Casey, his kinsman by 
 marriage, had his share, as well as in the actual 
 fighting. Alpheus' father, Isaac Casey, was a 
 young man of twenty when the Revolution broke 
 out ; and in that war, side by side with his father, 
 the old Scotch-Irish Presbyterian immigrant, Alex- 
 ander Casey, he did valiant service for the colo- 
 
A Hero in Homespun 
 
 nies against King George. Together they stood at 
 Cowpens under Marion. Together they fought 
 with Shelby and Robertson and Sevier at King's 
 Mountain. 
 
 But this was not their first fighting. Before 
 King's Mountain and Cowpens, before Monmouth 
 or Bunker Hill, before even Lexington and Con- 
 cord, the father and son had stood together, the 
 son then only a lad of sixteen, and had faced the 
 British troops at Alamance. 
 
 Who knows the real beginning of the American 
 Revolution ? For before as yet any blood had 
 been shed, save that which a few months earlier 
 had reddened the stones of King Street with the 
 life-blood of the five victims of the Boston Mas- 
 sacre, a hundred men laid down their lives for 
 American Hberty at the Alamance Creek in western 
 North Carolina. There, on the i6th of May, 1771, 
 two thousand " Regulators " faced the royal gover- 
 nor, Tryon, with his regulars and the militia from 
 the counties along the coast, in bloody protest 
 against the right of the crown to tax the colonies. 
 They fought till their powder and ball gave out, 
 and then retreated, leaving of the slain of both 
 armies two hundred on the field. 
 
 Tryon captured many of the Regulators, arid 
 executed six for high treason, and the rest fled to 
 the mountains, or bought their lives with an oath 
 of allegiance to the British crown. Among the 
 many who refused to take the oath was Alexander 
 Casey. He left behind his home in North Caro- 
 lina, and, with his family on horseback, made his 
 way across the mountains to the new and free com- 
 
The Frolic at Hanson's 
 
 monwealth of Watauga in East Tennessee. His 
 wife and the younger children rode, and carried a 
 few domestic treasures with them ; but Alexander 
 and Alpheus trudged on foot, with axe and gun, 
 sometimes chopping a trail through the wilderness 
 to the new commonwealth where men were free. 
 
 The first battle of the Revolution was the battle 
 of the Alamance, May i6, 177 1. The first Decla- 
 ration of Independence was that of the Scotch-Irish 
 mountaineers at Mecklenburg, May 31, 1755. The 
 first free commonwealth ever formed by American- 
 born freemen was the Watauga Association in East 
 Tennessee in 1772. For several years it exercised 
 all the functions of statehood, and later its founders, 
 Sevier and Robertson, had a share in the so-called 
 state of Franklin, of which John Sevier was Gover- 
 nor. The love of liberty which was manifested in 
 all these events was transmitted from father to son ; 
 and in the veins of Jack Casey there flowed, from 
 his father, the blood of the heroes of Mecklenburg 
 and the Alamance, of King's Mountain and New Or- 
 leans ; and on his mother's side he was descended 
 from the old pioneer and patriot, John Sevier. 
 
 Elizabeth Casey knew only the bare outlines of 
 these great historic events. Her life had been one 
 of hardship and privation. She had toiled long and 
 hard to bring up to manhood her only son, left 
 fatherless at the age of fourteen. Seven long years 
 she had labored for him and he for her, and she 
 had seen him grow from boyhood into the tall and 
 strong young man he now was. 
 
 She was waiting for Jack when he came in from 
 the barn. 
 
lo A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " Put on yer coat. Jack, and pack them dishes 
 fur me. I'm ready now, an' they'll be a-wantin' me 
 to help git supper. I didn't know whar ye'd gone." 
 
 " I'm ready, ma. I jes' went out to the barn." 
 
 Together they walked along the path that led 
 over the low ridge to the Hansons', the son ahead, 
 and the mother following. She looked up at him 
 with pride, he was so tall and strong. What a man 
 he was! How much he knew! How brave and 
 true he was ! She had borrowed books and read 
 them with him, increasing her own knowledge, be- 
 yond her previous ambition, to keep up with Jack. 
 They had not read many, to be sure, but the 
 Bible, "Pilgrim's Progress," "Robinson Crusoe," 
 a school history, and a half dozen other books they 
 had pored over till they knew them by heart. Now 
 he was a man, and no young man on the creek was 
 stronger, wiser, cleaner, or had more qualities to 
 gladden a mother's heart than Jack. All this, and 
 much more, she said to herself, and it was not the 
 first time she had said it, as they walked over to 
 Hanson's. 
 
 " Howdy, 'Liz'beth. Howdy, Jack," said Jacob 
 Hanson, as they entered the yard. " Come over to 
 help us out to-night, hev ye ? Wall, I'm glad to 
 see ye. These is my kinfolks, Mr. Eph Whitley 
 and his sister Miss Jennie. This is Mis' Casey. 
 You know her boy Jack, a'ready. These young 
 folks has come over to sorter visit us an' goin' back 
 nex' week to Roundstone, over in Kaintuck. We 
 sorter thought we'd invite in the neighbor young 
 folks, — that's you an' me. Mis' Casey, — an' give 
 'em a good time afore they go. Here comes some 
 
The Frolic at Hanson's 1 1 
 
 more. Howdy, Sam. Glad ye come. Didn't 
 know whether ye'd be able to leave yer patients, 
 ha ! ha ! I reckon a doctor has a power on 'em 
 wen he fus' starts out. A heap o' doctors has more 
 then than they ever git atterwuds, — they kill 'em 
 off so fas'." 
 
 "Ah, you're always jokin' 'bout the doctors," 
 returned the young Dr. Marshall. " You just wait 
 till I git you where I can give you some med'cine 
 I've got fur you in my pill bags ! I'll show you 
 what doctors are good for ! " 
 
 "You won't git me. Not ef I kin help hit. 
 Wen I die, I wanter die a nateral death, as the 
 feller said wen he shot hisself to keep from gittin' 
 hung. Here's Harry, now. Harry, take Doctor 
 Sam over an' introduce him to yer cousins. I 
 reckon hit's time fur me to git my coat on." 
 
 Jacob Hanson was a stout, jolly man in middle 
 life, happy and hospitable, fond of a joke, and true 
 to his friends. He soon reappeared with his coat 
 on, and manifestly the less comfortable both in 
 body and mind for the change. 
 
 " They keep a-comin'," said Jacob. " Wall, the 
 more the merrier. Howdy, Bill. Howdy, Mary. 
 Mighty proud to see ye. Bill, I didn't har'ly look 
 fur ye. I thought you'd married a wife and there- 
 fore could not come. Glad you brought him, 
 Mary. Go right in. Mother, here's Bill an' 
 Mary Gossett." 
 
 There was a hum of welcome as they crossed the 
 threshold. They had been married but a few 
 weeks, and the story of their romance was known 
 to all the neighborhood. 
 
12 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " They hain't but mighty few as pretty gals as 
 Mary here to-night," said Henry Hanson to Jack. 
 " Look at that head o' hair. Looks like flax ofF'n 
 the swingling board." 
 
 " Fresh hetchelled," said Jack. " I never seen 
 such hair. Bill deserves her." 
 
 " Sartin. He waited nine year fur her. Her 
 paw didn't like Bill 'counter a furse he'd had 'ith 
 Bill's dad, and Bill an' Mary 'lowed they'd wait till 
 the ole man gin in or died, one." 
 
 " They didn't need to count on him a-givin' in." 
 
 " Well, they hain't nobody mournin' his death, 
 as I've heerd. He had his good pints, but he was 
 a main buster when hit come to hatin'." 
 
 Bill and Mary had married as soon after the death 
 of her father as was counted proper, and their joy in 
 each other showed itself in every act. There was 
 something that was almost terrible in the love that 
 shone from Bill's eye as he looked upon his flaxen- 
 haired bride. There was the joy of the lover, but 
 also the triumph that was almost that of a panther 
 watching his prey. There was the memory of years 
 of waiting, and of an affection that had been ever 
 near the border line of hate. 
 
 " Tell us about the Convention, Jack," said 
 Jacob, as the men gathered outside in the twilight, 
 
 " I reckon you know all about it," said Jack. 
 " Judge Nelson presided and made a speech for 
 the Union. The Convention was as strong for the 
 Union as the one at Knoxville, first of June. Andy 
 Johnson was at home, and he made a great speech. 
 They say it was the biggest speech of his life. Judge 
 Trigg spoke, and he called on loyal men to tear down 
 
The Frolic at Hanson's 13 
 
 the telegraph lines and pull up the rails of the track 
 through Knoxville, to keep the rebels from crossing 
 East Tennessy." 
 
 " A crowd of young fellers in Knoxville set out to 
 do it t'other night," said Henry. " Parson Brown- 
 low found it out an' persuaded them to not do it. 
 But I heerd to-day that half them same fellers has 
 jined the rebel army sence then." 
 
 " Sentiment is changin' fast towards the South," 
 said Dave Hensie. " I kin see it among folks that's 
 got kinfolks in ole V 'ginny. Some that was strong 
 for the Union a month ago, remembers their kin- 
 folks that's got lots o' niggers an' is goin' with the 
 South, an' they're a-goin' thataway, too." 
 
 " They warn't no sign o' that at the Greenville 
 Convention," said Jack. " You ought to a-heerd 
 Parson Brownlow talk." 
 
 " Oh, Brownlow is for the Union, everybody 
 knows that." 
 
 " He ain't the only one. John Netherland spoke, 
 and John Flemming and Temple of Knoxville 
 and Judge Baxter and Captain Tom Arnold. 
 They was delegates from every county in East 
 Tennessy, and the hull Convention was strong for 
 the Union." 
 
 " They ain't no doubt East Tennessy's thataway ef 
 she kin have her way. Here comes Sam Marshall. 
 What do you think about it. Doc ? " 
 
 Sam Marshall entered the group, a tall, dark, 
 slender young man with heavy black eyebrows. 
 He had recently returned from Knoxville, where 
 he had been studying medicine, and had begun to 
 practise near his old home. 
 
14 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " 1 reckon we'll do what the State has voted to 
 do," he said. 
 
 " I don't see," said Jack, " ef the country hain't 
 got no right to coerce a State, what right West 
 Tennessy has to coerce East Tennessy." 
 
 " And I don't see," said Sam, " if a State has no 
 right to secede, what right East Tennessy has to 
 secede from the rest of the State." 
 
 " Well, you kin burn my part o' Jeff Davis, any- 
 how," said Henry. 
 
 " An' mine o' Abe Lincoln," said Sam. 
 
 " You'd best not say that," said Jack. 
 
 " I'll say what I please. I'm for the South, an' 
 I don't care who knows it." 
 
 " You'll have a chance to go South ef ye want to 
 atter the August election. East Tennessy is goin' 
 to cut out of the furrow an' stay in the Union." 
 
 " Here, boys," said Jacob. " This won't do. The 
 ladies in thar is a-gittin' lonesome. No more poli- 
 tics, now." 
 
 But several times during the evening the question 
 came up again. 
 
 The first part of the evening passed with mirth 
 and song. The reigning queen of the frolic beyond 
 a doubt was Jennie Whitley, the visiting cousin. 
 Beside all the charm which novelty lends, she was 
 truly a pretty girl. Her eyes were a dark brown. 
 Her hair was heavy and rich. She was plump 
 and rosy, and had a merry twinkle in her eye ; 
 and when she laughed, there was a dimple in her 
 cheek that would have tempted any son of Adam 
 to admiration, if nothing more. She was unused 
 to so much attention as she here received. She 
 
The Frolic at Hanson' 15 
 
 was loved and admired at her home on Round- 
 stone, but there she had grown up, and people 
 saw her with the eyes that had known her from a 
 child ; and while every one admired her face and 
 loved her sweet womanly way, no one had thought 
 of her as a beauty. To-night she was the centre 
 of an admiring group. The young men buzzed 
 about her " like bees around a gum," as Steph 
 Crowell said. Her brother Eph, who was with 
 her, noted with admiration, and just a tinge of jeal- 
 ousy, the popularity of his sister. Yet he found 
 a good measure of compensation with the young 
 women of the party, among whom he found none 
 more fair than his kinswoman, Martha Hanson. 
 
 After supper there was an awkward pause. No 
 one knew just what to do. Everybody knew what 
 all wanted to do, but it would never have done to 
 go to dancing deliberately. 
 
 " Less play something," suggested some one. 
 
 " What shall we play ? " 
 
 " Roll the platter." 
 
 That was the way it always began. The game 
 was such a harmless one, and no one was supposed 
 to think at first about the forfeits. They soon had 
 enough of that, and tried " Weavilly Wheat." That 
 is one shade worse, for it is played to music, and 
 the players move about while they sing. Still, it is 
 not dancing. 
 
 Then they played " Skip t'-m'-loo." The only 
 worse thing about that was that some one proposed 
 that Steph should play the air on his violin. The 
 very next thing in this rapidly increasing descent 
 was a Virginia reel, and that was dancing, certainly. 
 
i6 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 But it came about so gradually and so naturally, 
 and withal so unexpectedly, that even a tender 
 conscience had hardly a chance to slip in a protest 
 edgewise before the dance was on. 
 
 But it was before the reel, and while they were 
 playing " Skip t'-m'-loo," that the trouble came. 
 Sam Marshall had bad luck. He was " it " twice 
 in succession. Twice he stood in the middle of the 
 ring, while the others marched about him in couples, 
 singing admiringly, each of his lady, 
 
 "Pretty as a red-bird, skip t'-m'-loo ! 
 
 Pretty as a red-bird, skip t'-m'-loo ! 
 
 Pretty as a red-bird, skip t'-m'-loo ! 
 
 Skip t'-m'-loo, my darling ! " 
 
 It was his duty to stand there until the song 
 changed, and then snatch a partner for himself, 
 while they sang, 
 
 " Gone again ! Skip t'-m'-loo. 
 
 Skip t'-m'-loo, my darling ! " 
 
 But when the time came, he missed his chance, 
 being confused for the moment, and looking about 
 for Jennie, whom just then he did not see ; and all 
 the girls were snatched, and he was still in the ring, 
 while they circled round him, singing, 
 
 "I'll get another, skip t'-m'-loo ! 
 I'll get another one, prettier, too ! 
 I'll get another one, skip t'-m'-loo ! 
 Skip t'-m'-loo, my darling ! " 
 
 To be " it " once is no disgrace, though it always 
 subjects a man to some pity and a few jokes. But 
 
The Frolic at Hanson's 17 
 
 to be " it " twice makes a man the butt of the com- 
 pany through all the next threefold song. 
 
 Sam Marshall did not enjoy being ridiculed. He 
 thought that among those who taunted him as he 
 stood there the second time, Jack Casey's little joke 
 was especially biting. It may have been. At any 
 rate, Jack found himself in that round, just behind 
 Jennie Whitley, and he was determined that the 
 next time they were " gone again," the " other one " 
 for himself should be Jennie, or he would know the 
 reason why. Sam Marshall had a similar thought, 
 and, flushed and angry, he stood in the middle of 
 the ring, which was as large as the cleared-out room 
 would allow, turning on his heel as the company 
 moved, so as to face Jennie. This drew the atten- 
 tion of all, and he saw that his plan was detected. 
 He also saw that Jennie noticed it, and was annoyed 
 that he should be so constantly following her with 
 his eyes, and attracting the attention of all to her ; 
 for all were now eager to see whether, having set his 
 heart on one girl, Sam was again to fail, as a man is 
 more likely to, who, being in the middle, risks all 
 his chance upon one attempt. Seeing that he was 
 annoying her, Sam turned away, yet timed the 
 moving of the circle and the progress of the song, 
 so as to be ready for a spring at the moment it 
 should be time for Jennie to be " gone again." At 
 the end of the next " skip t'-m'-loo, my darling," he 
 turned suddenly, and attempted to seize Jennie, but, 
 in his haste and his turning, slipped and fell sprawl- 
 ing on the floor amid shouts of derisive laughter, 
 and when he picked himself up, red as a beet, and 
 angry as a bull, he was again too late. Every man 
 
A Hero in Homespun 
 
 had a partner. Jack Casey had Jennie's arm and 
 was singing with the rest, and laughing as he sang, 
 
 "Pretty as a red-bird, skip t'-m'-loo ! " 
 
 It was more than Sam Marshall could bear. His 
 race was a hot-blooded one, and he was hottest 
 of all. He regained his feet with an oath, and 
 struck a savage blow at Jack, who caught him as he 
 struck, and backing him against the wall, exclaimed, 
 
 " You git right out o' here, you coward, an' don't 
 you never hit at me again or I'll thrash you, 
 sure ! " 
 
 With that, still holding Sam Marshall's hands, he 
 backed him out of the door, and returned to the 
 play. The game, after a moment of interruption, 
 went on through that set, but then by unanimous 
 consent they changed it, as people like to change 
 from things that have involved unpleasantness, and 
 they turned to the Virginia reel, and Jack danced in 
 that with Jennie. 
 
 Jack had many compliments from the young 
 men, when the party was breaking up, upon his 
 agility, his courage, and his forbearance. To have 
 so skilfully defended himself, to have humiliated 
 his assailant in the presence of the whole company, 
 and yet to have gone no step beyond what they 
 counted the strictest propriety, and to have won for 
 the rest of the evening the belle of the party, — all 
 that was surely occasion for felicitation. But there 
 were also reports of dire threats of the vengeance 
 sworn by Sam Marshall. What he could do, Jack 
 had no idea. He would hardly shoot him from 
 ambush, — Sam Marshall was no coward, — and he 
 
The Frolic at Hanson's 19 
 
 did not fear any open assault. But he had a slight 
 misgiving when he remembered how strongly he 
 had spoken for the Union, and how pronounced 
 Sam had been on the other side. Sam had ac- 
 quaintances in Knoxville, too, among the officers 
 there. He began to think it possible that Sam's 
 vengeance might make itself felt in that way. 
 
 The young men and women did not allude to 
 the sudden departure of Marshall until they sepa- 
 rated to prepare for departure. Then the men 
 talked about it outside, and the women within. 
 
 " Wasn't he brave, Jen ? Wasn't you proud of 
 him ? " asked Jennie's cousin Martha. 
 
 Jennie did not attempt to conceal her admiration 
 for Jack and the way he had behaved. 
 
 " He's a brave fellow," she said, " and treated 
 me real nice." 
 
 " He is nice," said Martha. " I've knowed him 
 sence he was a boy, and they hain't no nicer feller 
 in all Granger County than Jack Casey." 
 
 Outside the men soon returned to the great ques- 
 tion of absorbing interest. A few were for the 
 South. A somewhat larger number were wavering, 
 and disposed to go now with the State. But a 
 considerable majority were for the Union, first, last, 
 and all the time. 
 
 " By cracky, Jack ! " said Steph Crowell, " you 
 was the king bee to-night, sure ! I'd a ben willin' 
 to a broke my fiddle to a ben in your shoes. I 
 would a broke a string, sure, so's to have an excuse 
 to quit playin', ef I'd a stood any show. But you 
 arnt it. Jack, you arnt it ! But look out fur Sam 
 Marshall ! " 
 
20 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 They were standing in the yard in the last stages 
 of departure when a horseman drew rein at the 
 fence. 
 
 " They's ben a battle," he cried. " They's ben 
 an awful battle at Bull Run. The Yankees are 
 defeated. Washington is about to be captured. 
 The rebs is marching north, and the hull North is 
 in terror. They's bonfires in all the cities of the 
 South, an' they say the war will be over in three 
 months, an' the South will be free." 
 
 They crowded to the fence and plied him with 
 questions, and every detail brought fresh horror. 
 The messenger soon rode on, and the people re- 
 turned to their homes in the silence of a heart- 
 breaking sorrow. 
 
 Later reports confirmed the news and added to 
 the probability of the speedy triumph of the Con- 
 federate cause. It settled over East Tennessee like 
 a pall. The election called for the first Thursday 
 in August was never held, and when the Union 
 cause rose from the ashes of that overwhelming 
 disappointment, it was in another form, with no 
 immediate thought of an independent common- 
 wealth. Had East Tennessee adjoined Mason and 
 Dixon's line, the attempt would not thus have 
 failed. It was far from its friends, and in posses- 
 sion of hostile armies. But had Bull Run resulted 
 in a Union victory. East Tennessee would have 
 come into the Union, as West Virginia later did, 
 an independent, loyal State. 
 
II 
 
 The Soldier's Farewell 
 
 HENRY HANSON reined in his horse, wet 
 with sweat, before the Casey cabin, one 
 afternoon early in September. 
 
 " Good evenin'. Mis' Casey. Is Jack 
 about ? " 
 
 " Howdy, Henry. Been ridin' hard, hain't you ? 
 Jack's still hidin' out, but I'll call him." 
 
 Elizabeth stepped across the rude porch, inside 
 the door of the rough little cabin, and brought out 
 a cow's horn, on which she blew three long blasts, 
 then after an interval, three more. 
 
 She returned the horn to its place, and took up 
 her sunbonnet, which, however, she did not wear, 
 and came to the fence, her golden brown hair, that 
 had been much admired in her girlhood, showing 
 now and then a streak of gray in the sunlight. 
 
 " What's the news ? " she asked, returning to the 
 fence, and laying her sunbonnet upon it. 
 
 " Mighty bad news. They're arrestin' Union 
 men more than ever, and there ain't no prospect 
 that them that's had to hide out kin come back. 
 The rebs is a-goin' to invade Kaintuck. Zollicoffer 
 is a-goin' to push out from Knoxville, take Cumber- 
 land Gap, and move on north to the Ohio River." 
 
 " Law, law ! It don't seem possible. But I'll 
 be glad to have 'em go anywhere, so's we git shet 
 
22 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 on 'em, an' men don't have to hide out, an' women 
 kin go about their work. Here comes Jack, now." 
 
 Cautiously Jack entered the clearing, and, seeing 
 his friend, came forward. 
 
 " Howdy, Jack. How d'ye like sleepin' out ? " 
 
 " Wall," returned Jack, with a faint attempt at 
 humor, " they hain't no bugs in the beds a feller 
 finds out in the woods." 
 
 "Been sleepin' right ou'door?" 
 
 " Slep' in the cave, mos'ly. When it's clear and 
 not too cold, I sleep out. Where do you sleep ? " 
 
 " Under the big rock whar it hangs over, foment 
 the barn, acrost the branch. We're sorter whar we 
 kin watch things, an' be out o' sight." 
 
 " Got yer horse yit, I see ? " 
 
 " Yes, but had to hide him in the ravine furder 
 up the branch from us, to keep the rebs from findin' 
 him. They ben atter him twicet." 
 
 " Mine's gone." 
 
 " Stole ? " 
 
 " Yep. Come an' got him night afore las'. It 
 was rainin' that night an' I had come in. I heerd 
 them ride up, an' I got out the back way, but it 
 warn't Marshall an' his crowd that time. It warn't 
 me they wanted but the horse. I fired at them as 
 they was a-leavin', but I reckon I didn't git no 
 game." 
 
 " I wisht you had ! " 
 
 "So do I." 
 
 " I'm glad he didn't," said Mrs. Casey. " I feel 
 mighty bad about the horse, for I liked to ride him 
 as well as Jack does. An' I don' know how we'll 
 ever make another crap without him. But ef Jack 
 
The Soldier's Farewell 23 
 
 had a-shot one o' them rebs, I don' know what we'd 
 had to suffer. We're puttin' up with enough as it 
 is." 
 
 " Do you reckon, Jack, that Marshall is at the 
 bottom of all this ? " 
 
 " Not all of it, I reckon, but he's got a finger in 
 it, shore. Ever sence he jined the rebs las' month, 
 he's ben a-ridin' round, huntin' down Union men, 
 an' makin' 'em take the oath." 
 
 " I don't reckon he'll kill more men as a sojer 
 than he would as a doctor," said Mrs. Casey, with 
 scorn. 
 
 " Did Steph Crowell take the oath ? " 
 
 " No ; they brought him up, but he proved that 
 he voted for separation, and they let him off." 
 
 " Dave Travers took hit, didn't he ? " 
 
 " Yes, but he says he tuck it ' from the teeth out.' 
 He had to do it or leave home, one, an' his pap is 
 dyin' of a cancer, an' his ma is mighty triflin', you 
 know, sence that time she got throwed off a horse 
 goin' to mill." 
 
 " Hit was a mighty hard place to put Dave. I 
 won't jedge him. But I hain't got nary tooth in my 
 head that'll take an oath to support Jeff Davis. I 
 wonder how much more o' this we gotter stand ? " 
 
 " Well, I know how much more I'm goin' to 
 stand. I hain't a-goin' to stand no more." 
 
 " What you goin' to do. Hank ? " 
 
 " I'm goin' to enlist." 
 
 " Not with the rebs ? " 
 
 " Not much ! " 
 
 " How you goin' to git to the Union army ? " 
 
 " I'm goin' to Kaintuck." 
 
24 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " Kin you enlist thar ? I heerd Gov'nor McGof- 
 fin' was for the rebs, an' is keepin' the State in an 
 armed neutraHty, as he calls hit." 
 
 " Gov'nor McGoffin's for the rebs. An' so is 
 the State Guard. But the Legislatur is for the 
 Union." 
 
 " Ef ourn had a ben we'd a had a different sort 
 o' things round here now." 
 
 "Yes, they sold us out, the skunks ! Atter we'd 
 voted the hull State, twenty thousand majority for 
 the Union, too ! " 
 
 " I'd like to make them hide out the way we 
 hatter ! But how about Kaintuck ? " 
 
 " Wall, the Blue Grass thar is secesh, same as 
 West Tennessy is. But the mountings is fur the 
 Union, same's here. An' they're goin' to raise 
 troops, an' let the Gov'nor go to grass." 
 
 " How'd you hear ? " 
 
 " I heerd at Rutledge to-day. I heerd a heap 
 more. ZoUicoffer's goin' to invade Kaintuck, as I 
 was jes' tellin' your ma afore you come up ; an' ef 
 ary Union man wants to git through Cumberland 
 Gap, he's got to make tracks right off." 
 
 " Well, I'd be mighty glad to hev him invade 
 Kaintuck, or any other place, so's to git shet of him 
 here," said Mrs. Casey. "'Pears like we've hed 
 our sheer o' the rebs." 
 
 " He hain't a-goin' to leave hyur fur good 'n' all, 
 they say. He's a-goin' to hold Knoxville, but push 
 on an' git the Gap, an' then sorter look the ground 
 over, an' ef all's well, he's a-goin' to move over into 
 Kaintuck." 
 
 "How'd you hear tell o' all this ?" 
 
The Soldier's Farewell 
 
 25 
 
 . " Parson Brownlow, he sent word to Judge Green 
 in Rutledge that ef ary Union man round here 
 wanted to git inter Kaintuck he'd hev to hustle." 
 
 "They hain't killed Brownlow yit?" 
 
 " No, he's alive an' a-kickin', an' a-printin' the 
 JVhig^ same's ever." 
 
 " I didn't 'low ZollicofFer'd let him print it atter 
 he tuck Knoxville." 
 
 "Wall, Zollicoffer's a Whig himself, they say, an' 
 he used to be a printer, an' sot type in Knoxville, 
 'fore he got to be a reb an' a gin'ral. They say 
 he's ben right good to Parson Brownlow, an' pro- 
 tected his office. But they can't bell that oie cat 
 so's but wut he'll spit an' show his claws at the rebs." 
 
 " I didn't reckon ZollicofFer would protect no- 
 body," interposed Mrs. Casey. 
 
 " Wall, he hain't hurt hisself a-protectin' Union 
 folks out in the mountains, that's a fack." 
 
 " I shouldn't think he hed. He lets his sojers 
 overrun the kentry, robbin' smoke-houses, stealin' 
 chickens, arrestin' Union men, skeerin' women to 
 death, destroyin' craps, an' stealin' bosses. I hain't 
 hardly knowed how a bed felt sence he got to 
 Knoxville," said Jack. 
 
 " Wall, 's fur's the arrestin's concerned, an' 
 makin' folks take the oath, it's him's a-doin' hit, 
 matter o' cose. An' they hain't no lack o' men 
 like Marshall to sick him on to men they hate. 
 But the fellers was a-sayin' to-day that a heap o' the 
 stealin' he don't know about." 
 
 " He'd orter know." 
 
 " Wall, I ain't a-sayin' as how he don't. But the 
 fellers was a-sayin' as how Brownlow wrote that 
 
26 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 ZollicofFer hisself hain't so bad a feller, but he's on 
 a bad side. But 'tain't wise fur us to stay hyur. 
 I gotter git on. Like's not some Johnny'll be 
 a-sneakin' up on us hyur. I'm goin' to Kaintuck 
 an' 'list. The day atter the August election the 
 Union men from Kaintuck commenced a-getherin' 
 at Camp Dick Robinson, in Garrard County, an' a 
 heap o' fellers from East Tennessy is a-getherin' at 
 Camp Nelson, clost by on the Kaintuck River. I'm 
 a-goin' to start to-night." 
 
 " Foot or hossback ? " 
 
 " Hossback. Don' you want ter go 'long ? " 
 
 " I hain't got no horse, an' I didn't 'low ter leave 
 mother." 
 
 " 'Tis too bad 'bout you a-losin' of yer horse." 
 
 "Say, Hank. Is yer pap a-goin' ?" asked Jack. 
 
 " He's mighty anxious to, but ma teases him not- 
 ter. I don't 'low he will jes' yit. You heerd tell, 
 didn't you, 'bout arrestin' Preacher Tate ? " 
 
 " No, I didn't. Wut's thet fur ? " 
 
 " Wy, Sunday week he was holdin' meetin' at 
 the Barren Forks, an' he prayed fur the Union. 
 They've tuck him to jail to Knoxville ! " 
 
 "The infernal hounds!" cried Jack. "An' he 
 a' ole man, too." 
 
 "Yes, an' they've 'rested another ole Babtist. 
 preacher over in Campbell. They was some fellers 
 goin' by to git into Kaintuck an' 'list. An' wen 
 they went pas' the ole man's door, one o' the fellers 
 pulled a flag out from under his shirt, were he'd 
 ben a-hidin' hit, feelin' sorter safe 'caze he was git- 
 tin' nigh the Gap, an' they knowed the ole man was 
 Union, an' they shuck the flag towards the house. 
 
The Soldier's Farewell 2^ 
 
 The ole man was a-settin' on his porch, a-readin' his 
 Bible, an' wen he seed the flag, he jumped up an' 
 cheered. That's ole man Post. They tuck him 
 ter Knoxville, too." 
 
 " I hain't but mighty little use fur the Babtists," 
 said Mrs. Casey; "but to put a minister o' the 
 Gospel in jail, an' fur cheerin' the flag ! Wicked 
 men is waxin' wuss an' wuss, 'cordin' to Scriptur." 
 
 "Wall, Jack, I gotter go. I don' know's I'll 
 ever see you agin." 
 
 " Hole on, Hank. Hit 'tain't right to hang 
 onter yer. But I want to ast you a little more. 
 Do you reckon ef I should go yer pap cud sorter 
 look atter mother.? " 
 
 " Wy, sartin he could, ef he kin look atter his 
 own folks." 
 
 " O Jack ! " cried Mrs. Casey, " you hain't 
 a-goin' ? Don' leave me here alone amongst the 
 rebs ! " 
 
 " I hate to do it, ma. I hate it powerful. But 
 what kin I do ? I hain't a-goin' to hide out furever." 
 
 " The rebs is a-goin' inter Kaintuck, didn't Henry 
 say r 
 
 " Yes, but that won't do us no good. They'll 
 leave some on 'em here, an' they won't be no 
 peace fur no man that kin fight till he gits out 
 er hyur." 
 
 " But I'm all alone. Jack, an' a-gittin' old." 
 
 " Hank," said Jack, suddenly, " this here is 
 somethin' ma an' me has gotter fight out alone. 
 Ef I kin go, I wanter go with you. Wut time'll 
 yer start ? " 
 
 " Soon's it gits good 'n' dark. Ef you kin come. 
 
28 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 we'll ride an' tie, an' 'twon't take us many days to 
 git than" 
 
 " Wall, don' wait fur me. Ef I kin come, I'll 
 be thar. Goin' to take shootin' arms ? " 
 
 " No, We hain't got but the rifle gun, an' pa 
 mought need hit. Besides, ef we should be ketched, 
 hit 'tain't pleasant for Union men to be found under 
 arms." 
 
 " I reckon ef I go I'd best leave my rifle fur ma," 
 said Jack. 
 
 " Like's not she mought need hit, an' ef we git 
 through, the gov'maint'll furnish us with guns. 
 Good-by. Hope you kin go." 
 
 " Good-by. Ef I kin, I'll be thar soon atter 
 dark." 
 
 " Oh, say. Jack ! Wy, ef you don t go, you know. 
 Wy, hit's sorter unsartin you know about me. An' 
 ef I shouldn't git back, wy, you know, you'll sorter 
 look atter pap, won't you ? You know he's sorter 
 outspoken, an' hain't allers prudent. An' thar's 
 ma and the gals, too. But ef you do go, wy pap'U 
 do all he kin fur your ma." 
 
 " Good-by, Hank. But I've sorter got an idy 
 I'll mebby be with yer." 
 
 " Good-by, Jack ; I hope so." 
 
 Jack Casey stood watching his friend out of sight, 
 while his mother stood beside him, leaning her head 
 upon the top rail of the low fence. It was a long 
 time before Jack turned and faced his mother. 
 They were simple people, with little sense of the 
 dramatic, and no thought of the heroic as related 
 to their poor, obscure lives. There was little that 
 to outward gaze seemed picturesque or interesting. 
 
The Soldier's Farewell 29 
 
 They were both roughly clad in homespun, he in 
 jeans, and his mother in a tow dress of her own 
 weaving, colored an uncertain shade with native 
 dyes. It hung loosely upon her, and was made 
 with regard to economy of material. She wore a 
 checked apron, and carried in her hand a collapsible 
 sunbonnet, which, with regard to conventionalities, 
 she had taken with her to the road, but which now 
 lay beside her on the fence. Even in her weeping 
 she had thought to move it a little to protect it 
 from her tears, and had buried her face in her 
 apron. She now raised her head, gave her eyes a 
 final wiping, twisted up her back hair, which had 
 fallen down, and secured it in place with a horn 
 comb. 
 
 " You're goin', be ye. Jack ? " 
 
 " I reckon so, ma. I didn't want ter say so 
 squar out 'fore Hank. I 'lowed mebby you'd 
 sorter ruther lemme say hit fus' to you wen we's by 
 ourselves." 
 
 " I knowed that was why, Jack. You're a good 
 boy. Boys don' know how much their mothers 
 keers fur 'em. Jack. Not allers, thet is. I reckon 
 you know more'n a heap o' boys. They hain't no 
 use in takin' on about it. Ef yer gotter go, wy yer 
 gotter go, an' I'll see to things the bes' I kin. 
 They hain't no stock to look atter like they used 
 to be." 
 
 " Darn the rebs fur stealin' on 'em ! " interpolated 
 Jack. 
 
 " Don' swear. Jack. Hit don' do no good. But 
 I reckon. Jack, you're goin' to be with me sech a 
 leetle wile, — you needn't hide out the res' o' the 
 
30 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 evenin' till dark, need yer ? I'd sorter like to have 
 yer 'round while I kin hev yer." 
 
 " No, ma. I'll resk it. Hit's a-gittin' sorter 
 late'n the day now. The sun's gittin' sorter low. 
 They'll be some little things to do." 
 
 " Less do 'em together, Jack." 
 
 " Wall, I 'lowed to go through the corn an' see 
 ef they hain't a ear here 'n' thar thet I kin pick an' 
 hide back in the cave. An' I did 'low ter grabble 
 the 'taters, an' take the biggest ones an' hide thar, too. 
 They's one ham an' a side o' bacon an' some squashes 
 thar aready. I jis' wanter leave whatever they is 
 whar you kin git it, an' not no one else." 
 
 " They hain't time to grabble the 'taters. Jack. 
 But we mought look through the corn. We kin 
 take it row 'n' row together, an' hit won't take long, 
 an' we kin sorter visit wile we kin visit, an' you 
 won't be much in sight in the corn." 
 
 It was all too short a task, and finished before the 
 sun was down. The corn was just beginning to 
 ripen, and the ears that might be picked were few and 
 small ; but these they gathered, and laid at the end 
 of the rows, and later Jack carried them to the cave, 
 while his mother cooked for him a few — a very 
 few — of the slices of the precious bacon, and baked 
 for his use four hard corn pones. It was all she 
 could spare, and more than Jack would consent to 
 take. But she insisted, and he took them. 
 
 They talked little, and what they said was mostly 
 about commonplace matters. As fast as potatoes 
 got large enough, she would grabble them, and take 
 them to the cave. As fast as corn ripened, she 
 would pick it and hide it there. She would also 
 
The Soldier's Farewell 3 1 
 
 take there the blankets from Jack's bed, lest her 
 apparent surplus should tempt some soldier beyond 
 what he was able to bear. Indeed, she would take 
 there a number of articles counted superfluities, and 
 hold the cave in readiness for a dwelling and a fort 
 if she should have need. The gun they hid under 
 the floor of the house, carefully wrapped to pre- 
 serve it from dampness ; and Jack charged Eliza- 
 beth not to surrender it, but if need were, to hide 
 that also in the cave. There, on a pinch, she could 
 live for a time, if the house should be burned. But 
 this was deemed improbable, especially after Jack 
 was gone. 
 
 " I reckon I'm safer without you, Jack, sorter," 
 she said. " They won't hurt a pore ole woman, an' 
 they don' bear no gredge agin me." 
 
 "You'll be all right, ma. An' in about a month 
 we'll come a-marchin' down through the Gap, an' 
 we'll drive ZoUicoffer back a heap faster'n he come. 
 An' some day you'll be a-lookin' down the road, an' 
 you'll see a cloud o' dust, an' you'll say, ' I wonder 
 wut on airth is a-comin',' an' atter a wile you'll see 
 it's somethin' blue. An' then you'll see it's sojers. 
 An' then we'll come by, with the drum a-playin' 
 'Yankee Doodle,' an' the flag a-flyin', an' you'll 
 come down to the fence whar you cried to-day, an' 
 you'll see me an' you'll see the flag, an' you'll wave 
 yer sunbonnet an' cheer. 'Pears like I kin 'mos' 
 hear you now, ma, the way you'll do when you see 
 us a-comin' back, the rebs a-runnin', full hickory, 
 an' we chasin' 'em down the road, an' you out thar 
 a-cheerin' me an' the flag, an' nary reb a-darin' to 
 sass you." 
 
32 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " I reckon so, Jack. Be ye right sure you'll 
 come back ? " 
 
 " Why, matter o' cose we'll come back. The 
 hull mountains is fur Lincoln an' the Union. Wen 
 we git out thar into the open, an' git our guns an' 
 uniforms an' things, you better b'lieve we'll come 
 back ! " 
 
 This ought to have encouraged Mrs. Casey, but 
 someway the uncertainty about the return was the 
 thought that was uppermost in her mind. She had 
 borne it like a Spartan mother, ever since her first 
 breakdown, but now she burst into tears again. 
 
 " O Jack ! My pore boy ! My only child ! 
 Mus' ye go ? My baby. Jack, ye don' seem to me 
 har'ly bigger'n you was wen I useter sing you 
 to sleep, an' you was roun* the floor an' under my 
 feet. I hater rub my eyes an' look twicet at you 
 to make hit seem like you're a man. O Jack, I 
 know I'm a pore, foolish ole woman, an' I hadn't 
 orter cry. Hit hain't thet I'm skeered to be left 
 alone, though it hain't real pleasant with them rebs 
 all round a-plunderin' an' a-burnin'. But, O Jack, 
 O my boy ! 'Pears jes' lack I wanter take yer 
 right in my arms an' hole you like I useter, an' 
 say I cyan't let yer go." 
 
 " Don' take on, ma, now don't. I got jes' about 
 all I kin stan' up under now. I'm a-grittin' my 
 teeth to keep from sayin' how I hate to leave you 
 alone. But they hain't no way to stay an' be at 
 peace, only jes' to take the oath. A heap is a-takin' 
 hit ' from the teeth out,' but I hain't a-goin' to swar 
 to no lies." 
 
 " No, Jack, ye hain't. An' I hain't a-goin' to 
 
The Soldier's Farewell ^3 
 
 hev you a-hidin' out forever, nuther, an' ketchin' 
 yer death wen the cold nights come. Hit's bad 
 enough in summer. They'll hev dry places fur the 
 sojers to sleep, I reckon, won't they. Jack ? " 
 
 " Oh, sartin. An' then hit hain't a-goin' to las' 
 long. All we gotter do is to git up thar an' tell 
 'em how East Tennessy is loyal, an' the people 
 jes' waitin' fur the ole flag, and they'll send us right 
 back with a heap more, an' we'll hold East Ten- 
 nessy in the Union." 
 
 " I reckon so, Jack. I hain't a-goin' to hang 
 enter yer. Go an' do yer duty, lack your pa would 
 a done." 
 
 " Hit's gittin' dark mighty fast, ma." 
 
 "Yes. 'Pears lack I never seed dark come on 
 so quick atter the sun went down. You don' 
 reckon hit's time to go ? " 
 
 " I reckon it is, ma. I'd best be a-goin'. You 
 bes' keep some o' them pones." 
 
 " No, Jack. You take 'em. Mus' yer be a-goin' ? 
 Good-by, Jack. An', Jack, wen you git away off, 
 an' you lay down at night to sleep, you wanter 
 think. Jack, says you, ' Ma's a-prayin' fur me,' says 
 you. An' wen yer git inter battle, an' hit 'pears 
 lack yer cyan't do wut the gin'r'l hollers out fur yer 
 ter do, jus' says you to yerself, ' Ma's a-prayin' fur 
 me,' says you, an' you go ahead an' do yer duty. 
 An' ef there's ary rough fellers in the Lincoln army, 
 like a heap o' the rebs, that's drinkin' an' swearin' 
 an' gittin' inter devilmaint, an' they want yer ter go 
 with 'em, you jes' says, ' No,' says you, an' ef they 
 keep sorter urgin' you, an' a-pesterin' you so's you 
 sorter feel lack doin' on it with 'em, says you to 
 
34 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 yourself, ' Ma's a-prayin' fur me,' says you. An' 
 hit'll be so. Fur they won't be no wakin' hour, 
 day nor night, that God a-lookin' down inter my 
 heart, an' a-listenin' to hear ef I've got somethin' er 
 other ter ast him, won't hear me a-prayin' fur you, 
 ter help yer to be brave and clean an' true, an' spar 
 yer life, an' fetch yer back. Good-by, Jack." 
 
 " Good-by, ma. I won't do nothin' that I 
 wouldn't do ef you was thar or God." 
 
 " I know you won't. Jack, Good-by. Now 
 you'll hatter hurry, cause hit's gittin' mighty dark, 
 an' Henry won't wait." 
 
 He slipped out of the back door and pushed the 
 latch-string in. She stood with her head bowed 
 against the door until the sound of his feet had 
 died out, and then pushed the leather string through 
 the hole again, and, raising the latch, crept out after 
 him. She was too late to overtake him, but she 
 slipped along the path that he had trodden in his 
 leaving, hoping to come near enough to hear the 
 sound of his footsteps again without being heard. 
 But he had gone rapidly, and she went slowly and 
 quietly lest he should know that she had done so 
 foolish a thing. She followed him nearly to the 
 house of Henry Hanson, and saw, as she came in 
 sight of it, the light of the fire shine out for a 
 moment as the door swung and some one entered. 
 She waited, and after a time saw it open again, and 
 two or three figures, she was not sure which, slipped 
 out. She wanted to go nearer, but feared to be 
 seen, and felt sure that Jack would be ashamed if 
 she should be detected in such an act of folly. 
 Sadly she took her way back home, and, lifting the 
 
The Soldier's Farewell ;^^ 
 
 latch, entered the house that was left unto her 
 desolate, and pulled in the latch-string. And then 
 she dropped into a chair in the chimney corner, 
 and her face sank between her knees, and she 
 poured out a mother's grief and loneliness in 
 prayers and tears for her boy who had left her to 
 fight for the Union. 
 
Ill 
 
 To Fight for the Flag 
 
 IT was a clear night, when summer was just 
 sobering into autumn, that Henry Hanson 
 and Jack Casey started on their lonely journey 
 through the wilderness into Kentucky. Jacob 
 slipped out with them, and went a mile on the way. 
 
 He gave them many directions, which were al- 
 most superfluous, for they were accustomed to find- 
 ing their way through the woods, and knew well the 
 first twenty miles of the road. 
 
 " You'll know Powell's River," said he. " Hit 
 runs along the ridge-pole o' the rocks, sorter lack 
 the rocks had fell down, an' stood up like the roof 
 o' the house, an' the water runs down the ridge-pole, 
 stidder down the shingles. Hit's a mighty quare 
 trick the water plays thar. Wen you come to that, 
 you're right under the shadder of the big Cumber- 
 land Mounting. The three States corners right in 
 the Gap. You bar up stream to the right inter the 
 pint o' V'ginny, whar it comes in like a smoothin' 
 iron, and work up round the hill. Soon's you're 
 through the Gap, you're safe in Kaintuck." 
 
 "We won't hev no trouble thet fur," said Jack. 
 " I've ben to the Gap myself twicet, but it was by 
 Rutledge an' Tasewell." 
 
 " You mus'n't go thataway to-night, ye know. 
 'Tain't safe. But hit'll give ye the gin'r'l /dy, to 
 
 36 
 
To Fight for the Flag 37 
 
 have went. Wen ye git to Kaintuck ye can't miss 
 it. Yaller Creek heads up at the Gap. Foller hit 
 down. They hain't no trouble to foller down 
 stream. Then cross the Log Mounting an' go by 
 Cumberland Ford, Barboursville, Mount Vernon, 
 an' Crab Orchard to the Kaintuck River. Camp 
 Nelson is on the river." 
 
 "What ef Zollicoffer has scouts ahead, an' we 
 can't go by the Ford ? " 
 
 " Then you gotter bar to the right, around through 
 Harlan an' Clay, an' keep on till you come to the 
 head waters of the Kaintuck River, an' foller them 
 down. That's a long way 'round. But ef ye hatter 
 go thataway, you mought find hit easy to go by 
 Roundstone, an' see yer kinfolks." 
 
 " We'll git thar all right." 
 
 " Wall, keep together. Don't try no ride an' tie 
 bus'ness. You'll git your horse stole, shore's you're 
 a foot high. Jes' let Bill jog 'long, single footed, 
 one o' you ridin' an' t'other holdin' to the stirrup 
 leather, an' change wunct in a while. You hain't 
 got no high water to ford except the Cumberland, 
 an' that hain't high now." 
 
 " I wisht we could tote our guns along," said Jack. 
 
 " No ye don't nuther. You'd git yourselves 
 inter trouble fust thing. Guns sorter encourages 
 fellers to run their head inter trouble. Keep outer 
 trouble till you git to whar you kin 'list, an' then 
 make all the trouble you kin. Ef you meet any 
 rebs, and they hold ye up, ye kin swar you're 
 goin' to visit kinfolks on Roundstone, an' then go. 
 Don't fail to go ef ye say you're goin' ter." 
 
 Even in such a time Jacob Hanson had his 
 
3 8 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 standard of ethics, which, however it might be 
 judged by moralists, was sacred to him. 
 
 " Wall, good-by, boys. I wisht I cud go, too. 
 Mebby I'll hatter go. I'm above the age, but ef 
 things keeps on as they're goin' hyur, I may be with 
 you yet. Be brave, an' do yer duty, an' ef ever you 
 gitter whar you kin see the flag again, don't never 
 turn yer back on hit, or ye hain't no boys o' mine." 
 
 They promised and were gone. The old man 
 choked a little as he bade them good-by, and the 
 boys were silent after he had turned back. For 
 half the night they rode across the hills through a 
 rough and sparsely peopled region. At first one 
 rode and the other walked, but their progress was 
 so slow, and the horse already so tired from his 
 long ride to Rutledge and return, that much of the 
 time they both walked. About midnight they 
 passed a corn field, and with the first suggestion of 
 lawlessness born of their new position as guardians 
 of the law, they crossed the fence and secured a feed 
 for Bill, and while he ate, they picked a dozen 
 additional ears, which they tied together by the 
 husks, and laid across the saddle. 
 
 " Thar's two more feeds," said Henry, " case we 
 should need 'em." 
 
 " Yes," said Jack ; " but Hank, hain't this steal- 
 m r 
 
 " No, Jack. Hit makes a feller feel sorter ef it was. 
 But they's another name fur it wen you git to fightin' 
 fur yer country. Hit's con-somethin'. Confist — 
 confisticate. Oh, now I got it ! Hit's confisticatin' ! " 
 
 " Wall, I'm mighty glad ef it ain't stealin', but 
 I'll be hanged ef it seems much diff'rent." 
 
To Fight for the Flag 39 
 
 " Wall, that's because you don't own the horse. 
 A marciful man is marciful to his beastis. An' ef 
 the rebs hadn't a stole from us, we mought a 
 brought more with us." 
 
 As it grew light, they saw plainly that they were 
 not out of danger. The roads gave evidence of the 
 passing of large numbers of men. It began to look 
 as if their start toward Kentucky had been too 
 tardy. 
 
 They came to a forest, and turned aside into the 
 woods to rest and reconnoitre. They removed the 
 saddle and bridle from Bill, and fed him half of 
 the precious corn which they had confiscated, prob- 
 ably from a Union man like themselves. Bill ate 
 the corn and husks, and contentedly nibbled the 
 grass. They replaced the bridle, with the bit out, 
 and fastened Bill to a swinging limb, where he had a 
 radius of several yards grazing at his will, and, after 
 nibbling a little of their corn pone, lay down with 
 their heads upon the saddle for a pillow and their 
 feet pointing in opposite directions, and fell asleep. 
 
 " Surrender ! " 
 
 Jack and Henry awoke with a start, and rose to 
 a sitting posture. Over them stood a Confederate 
 soldier in butternut, with bayonet on his gun. 
 
 " S'render ^ " he asked. 
 
 " We hain't got no call ter surrender," said Jack. 
 " We hain't sojers." 
 
 " No, nur you hain't a-goin' ter be, nuther. I 
 know wut sorter fellows you be, I do. You think 
 you're goin' over inter Kaintuck ter 'list, don't 
 yer : 
 
 They were both silent. Then Henry said, 
 
40 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " We 'lowed to go inter Kaintuck ter visit some 
 kinfolks we got over tliar," 
 
 " Yas, 1 reckon so. Did ye 'low ter go foot or 
 hossback ? " 
 
 "We both 'lowed to ride, ofF'n' on." 
 
 " Wall, ye won't be on so much as off from 
 now on. Putt the saddle on that critter. I 
 reckon /'// ride now. You fellers got ary shootin' 
 arn r 
 
 " Nary one." 
 
 " Wall, slip the bits inter that critter's mouth, an' 
 putt the saddle on him, an' I'll see wut fur beast he 
 ister ride." 
 
 There was no help for it, and they sorrowfully 
 prepared Bill for a new master. 
 
 " Got some corn, too, hain't ye ? Stole hit, I 
 
 reckon ? Wall, I hain't p'tic'lar, seein' 'twarn't me 
 
 as did hit. I've got a sorter tender conscience 
 
 myself, an' never steal nothin' smaller 'n a hoss. 
 
 Lead him up hyur. Now stan off that, wile I git 
 
 >> 
 up. 
 
 He mounted, and tested the length of the stirrups. 
 
 "Too short," he said. " Don't you fellers come 
 no nearder. Move off a little." 
 
 They started slowly away, and seeing him dis- 
 mount without keeping his eye on them, they were 
 seized with a sudden impulse. 
 
 " Less git. Hank ! " 
 
 " Go ahead ! " They made a wild break for free- 
 dom, rushing through the bushes, and down into a 
 ravine. They had gone a matter of six rods before 
 the Confederate noticed their departure. 
 
 " Hole on thar ! " he called, but not very loudly. 
 
To Fight for the Flag 41 
 
 " Halt, or I'll shoot," he called, seeing that they 
 did not stop, 
 
 " Keep on. Hank ! " called Jack. 
 
 " I'm a-comin' atter you ! " called the soldier, and 
 started on the horse down the ravine. 
 
 They redoubled their speed. They ran, breath- 
 less and panting, over rocks and through streams. 
 They tore their clothes in the bushes. They fell 
 and rose and pressed on. They had gone a full 
 mile before they stopped. Jack was ahead, and he 
 gradually slowed up and let Henry overtake him. 
 Then they both stopped. 
 
 They looked about them, gasping for breath, and 
 listening to the pounding of their hearts against 
 their ribs. 
 
 " I reckon we're safe," said Jack. 
 
 "Less stop an' rest," said Henry. "We kin 
 hide here." 
 
 They threw themselves upon the ground in a 
 clump of bushes hard by, and waited to get their 
 breath and think. 
 
 After a while Jack said, 
 
 "Hank." 
 
 " Wall ? " 
 
 " We're two fools for runnin' so." 
 
 " Wall, I'm mighty willin' to run to git away." 
 
 " That feller jes' wanted us to git away. He 
 wanted Bill, that's all he wanted." 
 
 " Do you reckon so. Jack ? " 
 
 " Sartin. Ef we'd ben in uniform he'd arrested 
 us. Or ef we hadn't a had no horse, he'd ast us 
 more about whar we was goin'. But he wanted the 
 horse, and didn't want to take no one inter camp 
 
42 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 that mought hev a claim on him. So he captured 
 us, an' let on like he was a-takin' us inter camp, an' 
 then let us git away." 
 
 " Wall, I believe you're right ! An' he's got the 
 horse ! " 
 
 "Yes, but he hain't got us. It's mighty evident 
 the rebs is ahead of us. Shall we go back ? " 
 
 " Not a foot ! " 
 
 "So I say. Less take our bearin's, an' start sorter 
 easy like towards the Gap. Which way did we 
 come : 
 
 " Thataway." 
 
 " Yes, that's so. Wall, that's up stream. We 
 mus' go thataway. Wut time do ye reckon hit is ? " 
 
 "'Bout noon, I should think. The sun is high." 
 
 " I reckon you're right. The bark grows thicker 
 on the other side of these big trees. That mus' be 
 north." 
 
 Thus they got their bearings, and kept as nearly 
 as possible in a northeasterly course parallel with 
 the river, and avoiding the road. Their progress 
 was slow, but as the sun was near its setting, they 
 discerned in the Cumberland range that towered on 
 the other side of the river, a saddle-like depression, 
 which they knew at once for the Gap. Toward it 
 they hastened with all speed. 
 
 In the twilight they came to a ford of the river. 
 
 "I wisht we hadn't a lost Bill before we got 
 acrost," said Jack. 
 
 " I wisht we hadn't a lost him at all," replied Bill's 
 sometime owner. 
 
 " I do, too, but they hain't no use cryin' over that. 
 I hate to git v«^et afore night. Ef it was day, and 
 
To Fight for the Flag 43 
 
 we was goin' to walk, hit wouldn't matter. But I 
 hate to lay down in the woods in wet clothes." 
 
 " I don't reckon we'll lay down much." 
 
 " Wall, less not git wet 'less we have to. Less 
 strip an' wade." 
 
 The suggestion was eminently proper. They re- 
 moved their clothing, rolled it into two wads which 
 they could hold high and dry, and waded through. 
 The river was not deep, however, and they were 
 only wet to the waist. On the other side they 
 replaced their clothing, and, following a road that 
 showed little sign of recent travel, they pushed 
 toward the Gap. 
 
 It was well past midnight when they arrived at 
 the foot of the mountain. They attempted to as- 
 cend on the Tennessee side, but not far up the road 
 they were stopped by the challenge of a sentinel. 
 They beat a precipitate retreat, followed at a safe 
 distance by the sentry's bullet. 
 
 They felt that they must make the Gap before 
 morning, and there were few hours left. Depart- 
 ing from the road, they climbed the steep face of 
 the mountain to the Virginia road, which they 
 struck, as they rightly judged, well within the 
 sentry lines, and cautiously made their way around 
 the mountain toward the depression. 
 
 " We mus' keep the road fur's we kin," said 
 Jack, " an' then when we hatter leave hit, take to the 
 woods and cross above the Gap. We can't git 
 through hit." 
 
 The mountain above was so steep that any dis- 
 tance saved in the almost perpendicular climb was 
 worth some risk. So they cautiously pressed toward 
 
44 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 the Gap itself, though knowing that it must be held 
 by the Confederates, and that erelong they must 
 leave the road for a wide and steep detour that 
 should leave the Gap below them. The dawn 
 was just beginning to streak the east, when, cau- 
 tiously turning a bend in the road, they found 
 themselves face to face with a picket. He was 
 more surprised than they, for there must have been 
 guards below who should have stopped any ap- 
 proach along the line of the Virginia road. They 
 had turned to run before he had time to challenge 
 them, and hard on the heels of his challenge rang 
 the report of his gun. A little way they ran down 
 the road, and debated each in his own mind as they 
 ran, whether they should turn to the right and down 
 the hill, where their better progress would secure 
 more quick seclusion, or up the face of the moun- 
 tain, in the direction of their journey. Henry 
 would have taken the downhill course had he been 
 in the lead, but Jack chose the more perilous way. 
 Suddenly turning to the left across a narrow level 
 place covered with bushes, he fell into the mouth 
 of a pitfall, barely saving himself as he fell, by catch- 
 ing at a stick that stood up in the hole. A moment 
 he clung in hesitation. Henry was hard behind him, 
 and not far back some soldiers were following. 
 
 "Go on down. Jack!" whispered Henry, "an' 
 I'll foller!" 
 
 Jack let go his hold and descended the pole, 
 hand over hand, finding crotches at convenient in- 
 tervals. Henry was so close behind him that he 
 trod on Jack's hands. They were soon at the 
 bottom, and, looking up, could see in the dawn 
 
To Fight for the Flag 45 
 
 four faces that looked hideous in that place and 
 light, peering after them. 
 
 Jack hastily seized the pole and drew it down. 
 It was the trunk of a cedar tree that had been made 
 into a rude ladder by the chopping off of the 
 branches. Evidently the cave was sometimes vis- 
 ited by the people of the neighborhood, — boys, 
 probably, — but unknown to the Confederate sol- 
 diers, who were themselves but newly arrived at 
 the Gap. 
 
 It was pitch dark where Jack and Henry found 
 themselves, at the bottom of a nearly circular and 
 quite perpendicular hole some twenty feet in depth. 
 They could hear the falling of water not far away, 
 and they hardly dared to stir, lest they should step 
 into some pitfall in the cave itself; but they groped 
 their way to a place against the wall on one side 
 none too soon, for their pursuers above, not daring 
 to descend after them, began to amuse themselves 
 by shooting down the hole. They were quite out 
 of range, however, and had little fear that they 
 would be attacked. After waiting until the voices 
 above were heard no more, they made cautious 
 explorations, and found no other way out than 
 that by which they had entered. The sound of 
 water came to them from a stream of considerable 
 size, with a mighty fall, not far back from the 
 mouth. They could go no farther, and if the cave 
 had other avenues they failed to find them. 
 
 As the day wore on, the young men came to 
 the place where the pole had stood, and looked up 
 through the skylight above. There was a draft of 
 air there that made their teeth chatter, but they 
 
46 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 both remembered that in the single instant they 
 had stood above it on the ground the ascending air 
 had seemed warm. Back from the mouth it was 
 comfortable, though somewhat damp. After wait- 
 ing a good while, and seeing no one above, they 
 carefully replaced the pole, and Jack ascended, 
 while Henry stood at the foot. Slowly he raised 
 his head above the opening, and then drew himself 
 up and sat on the ground with his legs in the cave. 
 After a careful reconnoitre he descended and re- 
 ported. The mouth of the cave was not guarded. 
 Probably the detachment of troops that had held 
 the Gap the night before had moved on, and a new 
 body held it to-day. There was a sound of troops 
 and wagons moving up the road. Evidently Zolli- 
 coffer's army was marching through the Gap. The 
 road was too near to make any attempt at escape 
 safe at present, but they might easily get out later 
 and move on. 
 
 There are many tales that gather about that cave 
 near the Virginia road. They tell of men who hid 
 there, and shot their pursuers as they entered ; of 
 dark tales of murder and of secreted bodies ; of 
 moonshining, facilitated by the nearness of the 
 mouth to the road, making the bringing of corn 
 an easy matter, and the stream of pure water need- 
 ful for the still ; of the interment there of men who 
 fell in the war, who found a speedy burial in the 
 waters of the cave. How many beside Jack and 
 Henry hid there in the days of the war, no man 
 can tell. What threatened to be a fatal accident 
 became to them a marked deliverance. 
 
 In the dusk of the evening they again replaced 
 
To Fight for the Flag 47 
 
 the pole, and climbed to the top. They debated 
 for a moment whether to leave the pole standing, 
 and decided to do so. Then they began climbing 
 the steep side of the mountain, leaving the Gap far 
 below, and crossing the ridge halfway to the sum- 
 mit of the pinnacle, on which later stood the famous 
 gun, " Long Tom." The crossing was made with- 
 out incident, and before the darkness had fully set 
 in they stood on the ridge, and looked back over 
 the Powell's valley, and far over toward the Great 
 Smoky Mountains, and then ahead, where there 
 was nothing but an unbroken succession of wooded 
 hills, without a human habitation in sight. But, 
 thank God, this was Kentucky ! 
 
 They pressed on that night and the next day. 
 They hardly stopped to eat or sleep. They 
 avoided all roads, knowing that Zollicoffer's men 
 must hold them all the way to Cumberland Ford, 
 and probably to Barboursville and beyond. They 
 crossed by the headwaters of the Poor Fork of the 
 Cumberland, and over the great and lonely Pine 
 Mountain. They ate the last of their pone and 
 pork. They gnawed corn from the cob as occa- 
 sionally they passed a field. They lost count of 
 the days, but later they found that since leaving 
 home they had spent eight days in their wander- 
 ings, hardly seeing, and ever shunning, the face of 
 man. They came to the divide, beyond which the 
 waters ran the other way, and knew that these must 
 be the tributaries of the Kentucky. Here they 
 inquired for Roundstone, and found that they had 
 left it one side, and it was now far out of their way. 
 They followed the falling water, and kept on 
 
48 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 toward Camp Nelson. From this time on they 
 had an unfailing guide. Through four counties 
 they followed the tributaries of the Kentucky's 
 South Fork. It was a long and roundabout way. 
 On the morning of the ninth day they came sud- 
 denly upon a fence, just beyond which stood a girl, 
 leaning over beside a cow, and holding a cup in one 
 hand while she milked with the other. It was 
 more than mortal man could endure. 
 
 " Howdy, miss," said Jack. " D'ye reckon 
 you could give two pore fellers a drink o' warm 
 milk ? " 
 
 She brought the full cup to Jack, who handed it 
 to Henry. 
 
 " No, you. Jack. I kin wait," 
 
 " Go ahead ! I cain't stand this much longer ! " 
 said Jack. In the moment that he smelled that 
 warm milk, he knew how a wolf might feel in 
 winter at the smell of blood. 
 
 Henry drank the milk and handed back the 
 empty cup. The girl turned to milk it full again. 
 
 " Say, miss," said Jack, " I hope you won't think 
 wrong, but ef you stop to milk that cup full, I'll 
 jes' go crazy. Dip me some out o' the bucket." 
 
 She dipped the cup in the tin bucket and brought 
 it up level full, and Jack gulped it down as though 
 famished. 
 
 " Thank you," said he. " I never tasted nothin' 
 before that was so good." 
 
 " You're right welcome," said the girl. " Goin' 
 to the army ? " 
 
 "Yes, but you won't tell?" 
 
 " You don' need to be skeered. They won't 
 
To Fight for the Flag 49 
 
 nobody hurt ye. That is, ef it's the Union army," 
 she added, with an afterthought. 
 
 " That's jes' whar we're goin'. Kin you tell us 
 whar we are at ? " 
 
 " You're in Estill County now. You're gittin' 
 near the blue grass. A lot of you Tennessee fel- 
 lers has come up and is enlisting at Camp Nelson. 
 The folks there is mostly secesh. But here we're 
 mostly Union. But a heap o' folks here has got 
 kinfolks below that's secesh, an' some on 'em don' 
 know what to do. But they won't nobody hurt 
 you. They're goin' to raise some sojers here, an' 
 we women are goin' to make a flag an' give 'em." 
 
 " Say, miss," said Henry, " do you reckon ary 
 person would keer ef we was to go inter the barn 
 an' go to sleep on the hay ? We've ben so long 
 without a good night's sleep, 'pears like ef we're 
 safe now, I cyan't go nary 'nother step without a 
 little nap o' sleep." 
 
 " You kin come to the house an' sleep," she said. 
 " Pa's name's Murray. The Murrays are all for 
 the Union. Pa won't let no man that's goin' to be 
 a Union sojer sleep in the barn." 
 
 They protested, but she insisted; and finally she 
 went to the house for her father, who came to the 
 fence and invited the young men in. 
 
 " You'll hev some breakfast fust, I reckon, an' 
 then you'll go to bed." 
 
 They did not long object, and gladly ate the hoe- 
 cake and bacon that were set before them, and then, 
 ascending to the loft, slept until dinner was ready. 
 They insisted on going on then, but their hospitable 
 host refused his consent. They must rest that day 
 
50 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 and night, and next day he would take them a step 
 on their journey and show them a nearer route. 
 They did so, and bathed and rested their sore and 
 weary feet and mended their well-worn shoes. They 
 enjoyed that night such sweet, refreshing slumber as 
 they remembered all their lives. While they slept, 
 the mother and daughter sewed up the rents in 
 their clothing. 
 
 Mr. Murray borrowed a horse from a neighbor, 
 and brought his own two horses to the door sad- 
 dled, just as the sun was rising. They were just 
 finishing their liberal breakfast when three men 
 stopped at the fence and asked for a drink. 
 
 " Come in an' se' down on the porch," said 
 Mr. Murray, " an' I'll send for some water to the 
 spring. Becky, fetch me some cheers here, an' 
 fetch the gentlemen some water from the spring. 
 Goin' below, gentlemen ? " 
 
 " Yes ; we're goin' to Camp Dick Robinson." 
 " I declar ! Wall, here's some men'll like to go 
 with ye, ef ye kin keep up with 'em. They're a-goin' 
 to Camp Nelson. You're from Kaintucky ^ " 
 " Yes ; we're from Roundstone." 
 Jack heard the name and stepped out. 
 " Why, Eph Whitley ! Is this you ? " 
 " Howdy, Jack ! What you doin' here ? Ain't 
 you lost ? " 
 
 " Well, if I be, Hank's los', too. Here he is." 
 
 " Hank, what in creation are you doin' here ? 
 
 These is my brothers. Bill, this is our cousin, 
 
 Henry Hanson; an' this is my brother Joe. An' 
 
 this is his friend, Mr. Jack Casey." 
 
 " Friends, be ye ? " asked the host. " Well, 
 
To Fight for the Flag 51 
 
 this is lucky. Becky, get these men somethin' to 
 eat, right off, an' we'll start." 
 
 " We've had our breakfast, thank ye," said Joe, 
 " an' we've got provisions to last us through. 
 We've only walked one day. Pa fetched us day 
 before yistiddy to some friends foment Boneville, 
 an' tuck the horses back from there. We stayed 
 there night afore las' an' walked acrost the hills to 
 save follerin' the river yistiddy. We stayed back 
 here a mile, an' took a soon start this mornin' to 
 git on as fur's we kin to-day." 
 
 " Well, you go right on with us. Your friends 
 here has been trampin' more'n a week, an' their feet 
 is sorter sore. You'll have to let them ride most 
 o' the way. But they'll spell ye once in a while, 
 so's you kin keep along. Where everything is 
 plain sailin', we'll ride and tie, and where the road 
 is unsartin, we'll keep along together." 
 
 Jack and Henry bade their new friends a hearty 
 good-by, and all the young men bowed to Becky 
 and her mother, who came out to wish them a 
 prosperous journey and a short and pleasant expe- 
 rience in camp. The Whitleys had some provi- 
 sions, but their hosts insisted that they should take 
 some more corn pone and another fried chicken, 
 which would be prepared for them in half an hour. 
 Not to delay the entire party, all started on except 
 Joe Whitley, for whom one horse was left, as he 
 knew the road. The other five moved ahead, 
 Henry and Mr. Murray riding, and Jack, who was 
 more thoroughly rested than Henry, walking with 
 the other boys. 
 
 As soon as they were gone, Joe and Becky set 
 
52 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 themselves to catch the chicken. Becky scattered 
 the feed, and called, 
 
 " Chick, chick ! " 
 
 Joe stood by her side, and, when the chickens 
 gathered, caught, after one or two futile attempts, 
 the plump young rooster which she designated for 
 decapitation, and the two picked it together, Mrs. 
 Murray was making the corn pones. It was rather 
 a long half hour, and the boys told Joe afterward 
 that they did not believe that he had been in any 
 haste to get away, but he affirmed that picking 
 chickens was an important part of a soldier's duty, 
 and by no means the least pleasant if one had good 
 company, George Washington overstayed his time 
 when first he met Martha Custis. If Joe tarried a 
 matter of fifteen unnecessary minutes, all told, his 
 own conscience, and not this history, must accuse 
 him. 
 
 It is rather small business in the historian at the 
 present day to search out and record such trivial 
 incidents, but they were among those that the 
 soldiers were glad to remember afterward, and it is 
 rather pleasant to turn from the more sombre sub- 
 jects which must form so great a part of our narra- 
 tive. Besides, it is important to note even such 
 trifling occurrences, for sometimes they had a future. 
 It may be that it would not have made a classic 
 picture, but one of the scenes which stands out 
 with somewhat unusual clearness is that of Joe and 
 Becky standing beside the smoke house that Sep- 
 tember morning, plucking the chicken together. 
 Socrates plucked a cock for Plato's edification : this 
 reduction of a biped to a featherless condition was 
 
To Fight for the Flag 53 
 
 quite as dignified a process, and, like that, sub- 
 served at least one useful end. 
 
 Joe overtook his companions two hours after 
 they had gone, and they punished him, as he de- 
 served, by not allowing him to ride again for many 
 a mile. The mountains were now left behind, and 
 the beautiful blue-grass region, with its large fields 
 of ripening corn, of tall hemp, and of broad-leaved 
 tobacco, its rolling plains, and its pastures with fine 
 cattle and horses, was about them. They paused 
 for dinner, and rode another hour, and Mr. Mur- 
 ray stopped to turn back, riding one horse and 
 leading two. 
 
 " Now this is the road to Richmond," he said, 
 " the county seat o' Madison. I wouldn't go 
 through thar jes' now. There's a good bit of ex- 
 citement thar jes' at present. I don't reckon any- 
 body would pester you, but you needn't give 'em 
 no chance. Keep west an' a little north, an' you 
 don't need to be skeered to ast the way." 
 
 They bade him a hearty farewell, and pressed 
 forward with good courage. They slept that night 
 in a barn only five miles from the Kentucky River. 
 Before it was light they were up, and ate the 
 remains of their food, and then took their way on 
 in the direction indicated to Camp Nelson. It was 
 still early in the morning that they stood upon a 
 high bluff, with the river far below, and looking to 
 the other side Jack saw something waving in the air. 
 
 " Boys, look there ! " he called. 
 
 They looked, and Eph cast his hat high in the 
 air with a glad shout, in which they all joined, 
 " Hurrah ! Hurrah ! It's the flag ! " 
 
IV 
 
 Toward the Promised Land 
 
 THE Kentucky River runs between high 
 bluffs at Camp Nelson, and the conforma- 
 tion of the land makes fortification easy 
 and effective. General Nelson intended 
 that if a battle was fought in central Kentucky it 
 should be there; but the battle came a year later on 
 other ground. Here, amid scenery of surpassing 
 beauty, two thousand East Tennesseeans were en- 
 rolled for the deliverance of their own State. Jack 
 and Henry entered Company A of the First Ten- 
 nessee Infantry. Their captain, for a short time, 
 was Joseph A. Cooper, a brave East Tennessee 
 farmer, who was soon made a colonel and then a 
 general. Their colonel was Robert K. Byrd, who 
 had been prominent in the Greenville Convention; 
 and the commander of the East Tennessee bri- 
 gade was Colonel Samuel Powhatan Carter, of 
 Carter County. 
 
 The six Kentucky regiments which gathered at 
 Camp Dick Robinson were all officered by Ken- 
 tucky men. After a brief service in another regi- 
 ment, the Whitley boys were transferred to the 
 Eighth Kentucky Infantry, where they served under 
 Captain John Wilson. His company, recruited 
 mainly in Estill County, carried the flag — the flag 
 of which Becky Murray had told them, and which 
 
 54 
 
Toward the Promised Land 55 
 
 she had a share in making. Bill Whitley was chosen 
 color-sergeant, and was jealously proud of his posi- 
 tion until he saw the hungry look in the eyes of his 
 brother Joe. 
 
 "Joe, whatcher lookin' that flag over fur, so?" 
 he asked, as he entered the tent, and found Joe 
 inspecting the stitches. 
 
 " Nothin'," said Joe, sheepishly, rolling up the 
 flag. 
 
 " That's a lie," said Bill. " You was a-lookin' to 
 see ef ye could tell what she sewed." 
 
 " I wasn't nuther," declared Joe, coloring. 
 
 "You was, too. An' you're wantin' to pack that 
 flag yourself Cyain't ye be satisfied with havin' the 
 gal, an' let other folks have some sheer? " 
 
 " I hain't a-keerin' to pack the flag. Bill, I — " 
 
 " I know better," said Bill, bolting out of the 
 tent. For several days the boys were near to quar- 
 relling at every mention of the flag. Bill was ever 
 the aggressor, taunting Joe with coveting his posi- 
 tion, and drawing from him emphatic denials that 
 were almost admissions. One evening Bill entered 
 the tent, and found Joe alone. 
 
 " Lookyhere, Joe," he said. " This thing hain't 
 a-goin' on no longer. You git up here an' take off 
 yer coat, an' the best man gits the flag an' gal, too." 
 
 Joe started to his feet in surprise. 
 
 " Bill — Bill," he stammered, " do you keer for 
 Becky ? " 
 
 " Take off yer coat ! " shouted Bill. 
 
 Joe wonderingly began fingering at the buttons. 
 " I'll take off* my coat, ef ye say so ; but I won't 
 fight ye. Bill — I didn't know — " 
 
56 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " Now put on that one," said Bill, extending his 
 own. " I've ben to see Captain Wilson, an' you're 
 to be color-sergeant stidder me." 
 
 " I won't do it. Bill," cried Joe, with tears starting 
 from his eyes. 
 
 " You have obleeged to do it," said Bill. " An' 
 I don't want none o' yer fool talk about it. You 
 keer for the gal, an' I don't — much; an' you'll 
 keer more for the flag than me for her sake. So 
 we'll swap coats to save rippin' off an' sewin' on 
 braid. Shet up ! Ef ye don't keep still, I'll 
 lick ye." 
 
 Thus far in the war Kentucky had preserved " an 
 armed neutrality." The country at large ridiculed 
 the idea, but President Lincoln was disposed to 
 humor it. He knew that vain as was her attempt 
 to be neutral, Kentucky could be trusted, and that 
 it was better for the national government not to in- 
 vade the State till the South had done so. Thus, 
 when Governor McGoffin complained of the organi- 
 zation of troops at Nelson and Dick Robinson as 
 an invasion. President Lincoln replied that these 
 were Kentucky soldiers, officered by Kentuckians, 
 who, with the refugees from East Tennessee, were 
 organized to prevent invasion. So, without send- 
 ing a soldier from the North, Kentucky was held by 
 armed Union men until the South had invaded the 
 State, when the Legislature, backed by a Union 
 sentiment that had grown under Lincoln's tolerant 
 treatment, declared for the Union, and passed its 
 acts over the Governor's veto. 
 
 One day, early in October, the force at Camp 
 Dick Robinson was augmented by the arrival of the 
 
Toward the Promised Land 57 
 
 East Tennessee brigade from Camp Nelson. It was 
 the beginning of a forward movement toward East 
 Tennessee. There the Whitley boys were joined 
 by Jack and Henry, and enjoyed their first visit 
 since enlistment, nearly a month before. 
 
 " Well, Jack, how do you like sojerin' ? " asked 
 Eph. 
 
 " I'll like it when we git to doin' somethin'. How 
 do you like it ? " 
 
 " I don' like the drillin' wuth a continental. 
 This ^Left! Left!' and ' Hayfoot ! Strawfoot!' 
 don' suit me a mite." 
 
 " Nor me. But I'm willin' ef we ever git any- 
 whar." 
 
 " I hope we'll move now. Did you hear that 
 General Nelson's been removed ? " 
 
 " No ; what's he removed for ? " 
 
 " Well, he's got a mighty quick temper, an' he's 
 arrested rebs about as brash as ZollicofFer did the 
 Union men. A heap o' the sojers was mad at him, 
 too. Did you hear about his fight with a teamster ^ " 
 
 " No ; what was it ? " 
 
 "Nelson had a sojer actin' as his clerk, an' he 
 was a good writer, but tipped his elbow tol'able 
 often. An' he knowed a teamster that kep' a jug 
 under his wagon seat. T'other day the teamster 
 was mighty nigh full, an' was tryin' to hitch up his 
 mules, an' this clerk seen him, an' says, says he, 
 ' Wy don' you git the horsier over thar to hitch 
 up ? ' * I didn't know as they war no horsier,' says 
 the teamster. ' Yes,' says the clerk, ' a big feller 
 over thar in yon tent.' ' Does he hitch up for 
 teamsters ? ' asts the teamster. ' Yes,' says the fel- 
 
58 A Hero In Homespun 
 
 ler, ' that's what he's paid to do, but he's lazy. I 
 shouldn't wonder ef he's asleep, stidder doin' wut 
 he's paid to do, an' lettin' hard-workin' teamsters 
 do the work.' ' I'll raise him,' says the teamster. 
 ' You best look out,' says the feller. ' He's a big 
 feller, a main big one,' says he, * an' he's cross as 
 old Scratch.' The teamster was about as big as 
 Nelson, an' he starts off to wake him, an' the clerk 
 he gits inter the wagon an' gits the jug. Then the 
 big teamster he comes to Nelson's tent an' breaks 
 right in, and Nelson was sleepin' sure enough. An' 
 the feller says, ' Git up here, ye lazy lout,' says he, 
 'an' hitch up my mules ! ' General Nelson, he jumps 
 up an' draws his sword an' makes a lunge for the 
 feller, madder'n a she bar that's lost her cubs ; an' 
 the teamster he hauls back with his whip, and they 
 went in for each other like two painters. But some 
 officers hears the racket and knows they's some one 
 goin' to git killed, an' in they comes runnin' and 
 separates them. Then they went to find the feller 
 that kicked up the dirt, an' found him drunk in the 
 wagon, an' the jug empty." 
 
 " I reckon he ketched it from Nelson." 
 
 "You're mighty right. Nelson sent him home 
 acrost lots." 
 
 " Was that what Nelson left for .? " 
 
 "No; but they's ben a heap o' trouble, an' he 
 cyan't git on rightly with no one." 
 
 " Who's comin' atter him ? " 
 
 " Gin'ral Thomas." 
 
 " Do you reckon he'll be as keen to invade East 
 Tennessy as Nelson?" 
 
 " Oh, I reckon so. He's a Southern man, and 
 
Toward the Promised Land 59 
 
 knows about it. I don' know about Sherman, 
 though. He's over Thomas." 
 
 " Well, they dassent give up East Tennessy. 
 We've enlisted for that. Our officers are commis- 
 sioned ' For the East Tennessee Expedition.' " 
 
 " They say ZollicofFer's got to Barboursville." 
 
 " Did you hear that they had a Httle scrimmage 
 there yistiddy ? " 
 
 " No ; how was it ? " 
 
 "Some Home Guards thar met his army, and they 
 was a fight, but the Home Guards didn't make out 
 much. They're sendin' word for us to come right 
 off and help 'em lick Zolly." 
 
 " They're goin' to do it, hain't they ? " 
 
 " Yes. Cun'l Garrard's gone ahead a' ready, an' 
 he cal'lates to stop ZoUicoffer till the rest on us 
 git thar." 
 
 " What for guns is your'n ? " 
 
 " Same as your'n. They call 'em Belgian rifles. 
 They say that the Gov'nor of Pennsylvania refused 
 'em, an' they sent 'em on to Ohio, an' the Gov'nor 
 of Ohio said he wouldn't take no sech guns for 
 Ohio sojers, an' they sent 'em down here." 
 
 "I reckon we're as good as them fellers." 
 
 " Yes, but our fellers is mighty glad to git any- 
 thing that'll shoot." 
 
 " 1 heerd that some of the men had got guns 
 they was afeard to shoot off." 
 
 " Well, hit's so, mighty nigh. The breech is the 
 dangerous eend. I seed two or three fellers kicked 
 over with 'em;" 
 
 The drums here began to beat. The young men 
 did not know the different signals, but went to their 
 
6o A Hero in Homespun 
 
 respective regiments, where they were ordered to 
 prepare for an advance against Zollicofifer. 
 
 It was a glad morning to Jack and Henry, when, 
 turning their backs upon the blue grass, they marched 
 toward the mountains again. 
 
 " Hurrah, Hank ! ain't this fine? " 
 
 " You'd better believe it ! Won't we drive ole 
 ZollicofFer back, though?" 
 
 " Well, now, I reckon we will ! Two thousand 
 of us, all from East Tennessy, and six Kaintuck 
 reg'maints ! We'll drive him back through the Gap 
 a heap quicker'n he come ! " 
 
 " An' he won't have long to stop in East Ten- 
 nessy, nuther," 
 
 " Not much, he won't. We'll send him out of the 
 mountains a-flyin'. We'll go to Knoxville an' smash 
 open the jail, an' we'll stop in front of old Parson 
 Brownlow's house and cheer, and the old man'U 
 come out an' make us a speech, an' call us the 
 deliverers of East Tennessy ! " 
 
 " Which way do you reckon we'll go from the 
 Gap ? " 
 
 " The way we come, like as not, an' down the Hol- 
 ston valley. Jes' think o' marchin' down the road 
 past home, with the fellers a-comin' out o' the woods 
 whar they ben a-hidin' out, an' the gals a-wavin' 
 their sunbonnets and their handkerchers ! " 
 
 Conversations like this were repeated among 
 groups of friends all through the Tennessee bri- 
 gade. They were men who had braved dangers to 
 join the army. They had enlisted without draft or 
 bounty, and for conscience' sake. They had re- 
 sisted bribes, threats, and offers of protection, and 
 
Toward the Promised Land 6i 
 
 had left homes and friends unprotected, with the fond 
 hope of returning soon to fight for their own hearth- 
 stones. Never did a band of men march forth with 
 better heart than that raw-boned but stalwart com- 
 pany of East Tennesseeans, as they shouldered their 
 clumsy old Belgian rifles and trudged toward 
 home. 
 
 The pike extends as far as Crab Orchard, and then 
 there is a " dirt road " of uncertain quality. From 
 there the way leads across the hills of Rockcastle 
 County to the Rockcastle River. There is a pre- 
 cipitous descent to the ford at Livingston, and then 
 comes the long ascent of Wild Cat Mountain. 
 
 It was fortunate that Carter's brigade had small 
 need of baggage wagons, for what wagons there 
 were, and these were hired, had a hard time of it. 
 No man who has not experienced them can fitly pict- 
 ure to himself the manifold adventures of a ride 
 in a wagon through the Rockcastle River and up 
 Wild Cat. 
 
 The ordinary army wagon on this expedition had 
 four mules and a negro driver, who sat on one mule 
 and guided the whole four with a single rein. As 
 he had one rein, so he had but one word of com- 
 mand ; but it was marvellously flexible and effective. 
 When he wished to go to the right he would say, 
 " Yea-a-a-a ! " and manipulate the rein. When he 
 wished to go to the left, he would say the same 
 word and appear to use the rein in precisely the 
 same way. When going down the bank into the 
 stream, and he wished the mules to proceed with 
 caution, he would say, in an admonitory tone, 
 " Yea-a-a-a, now ! " When he wished to urge them 
 
62 A Hero in Hornespun 
 
 up the bank on the other side, he would jerk the 
 rein and call sharply, " Yea ! Yea ! Yea ! " 
 
 It would not be fitting to speak of the swearing, 
 but the army in Flanders never could have sworn 
 as did the drivers of those mule teams. They 
 swore at the mules, and at the roads, and at the loads, 
 and at the broken harnesses, and at the collar galls, and 
 at the officer, far back in authority, who was supposed 
 to be responsible for this unreasonable exertion, and 
 last, but not least, at Jeff Davis and the Southern 
 Confederacy. It is two and one-half miles to the 
 top, and the profanity grew denser as the climb 
 grew more steep. Persons who stand to-day on 
 the other side of the river, and see toward the sum- 
 mit of Wild Cat a streak of blue haze, which is 
 sometimes visible there, are told that it has some- 
 thing to do with the profanity of teamsters, during 
 and since the war, who " swore a blue streak." 
 
 But the Tennesseeans did not swear, or, if they 
 did, it was not for disapproval of the expedition. 
 The fording of the Rockcastle, the climbing of 
 Wild Cat, were to them but the passing through 
 the Red Sea and the beginning of a short wilderness 
 wandering, before their entrance into their own land 
 of promise, poor and barren, but full of all the 
 meaning which speaks to the heart in the tender 
 name of home. There were their firesides and their 
 altars. There were their wives and children. There, 
 in not a few cases, were their imprisoned relatives. 
 There were their own plundered fields and barns, 
 defenceless before the destroyer. A few weeks ago 
 it had been imprisonment to cheer the flag. Now, 
 they carried it aloft with shouts of joy, and pictured 
 
Toward the Promised Land 63 
 
 to themselves the scene that would appear when 
 they marched, each man into his native town or 
 past his own door, with the flag waving above him. 
 They were not much given to gay music. They 
 mostly sang the weird, minor tunes that belonged 
 to their worship, with a few wild, odd, but equally 
 solemn songs that might be sung on secular occa- 
 sions. But there was one song that was popular in 
 the army, and which, both for its tune and its senti- 
 ment, they enjoyed. They had learned it from the 
 rebels, but it suited them equally well. The tune 
 is martial, and is said to date back to the time of 
 the Crusades. It is minor also, and has a touch of 
 solemnity in it. They hummed it as Cromwell's 
 Ironsides hummed their surly hymn, that had in 
 it the conquest of all the enemies of the Lord. 
 They hummed it as they marched, and the legs that 
 had resisted all attempts of the drill sergeant in the 
 few days during which they had had his painful in- 
 struction, now began to swing in something like 
 rhythm. And there were times when the air broke 
 out in one squad and was caught up in antiphone 
 by another, and echoed up the hill and down, on 
 this side of the river and the other. 
 
 '* When Johnny comes marching home again. Hurrah! Hurrah! 
 We'll give him a hearty welcome then. Hurrah! Hurrah! 
 The girls will sing, the boys will shout : 
 The ladies they will all turn out : 
 And we'll all feel gay 
 When Johnny comes marching home! " 
 
 Whether there were more stanzas or not, or 
 other songs like it, few of the men knew, and none 
 
64 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 of them cared. To some, the subHme thing about 
 the war was the onward march of a mighty provi- 
 dential purpose; and for them there came the " Battle 
 Hymn of the Republic." To others the impressive 
 thing was the leap of the nation's blood and the 
 answering rush of the thousands ; and these might 
 sing, " We are coming, Father Abraham, three 
 hundred thousand more." These were features not 
 wholly lost upon the mountaineer. But the prime 
 thing in his thought at this stage of the contest was 
 his own return to defend his shrines and loved ones, 
 and the song that suited him, both as to its words 
 and its music, was "When Johnny comes marching 
 home !" Alas ! what a march it was ! 
 
The Battle of Wild Cat Mountain 
 
 MOLLIE CAMERON had a hard time 
 of it after Joe died, but it couldn't be 
 helped, as she said a hundred times to 
 her comforters, and so that was the end 
 of it. She seemed to the neighbors to have grown 
 hard and cold, and some doubted if she really 
 mourned for Joe, she "took it" so strangely. She 
 was not seen to weep. She did not hide her face, 
 but looked straight before her out of tearless eyes, 
 with a countenance that was white and set. It was 
 when they woke little Jim to see his father die that 
 she seemed to change. She had watched Joe's 
 breath growing shorter and shorter in the hours 
 that he lay unconscious, and had given no sign 
 that the neighbors recognized as that of grief She 
 had heard them say that he was dying, and had 
 shed no tear. But when they held little Jim, whom 
 she seemed until that moment to have forgotten, 
 up beside the pillow to look into the face of his 
 dying father, she gave a look that was first wild and 
 then full of a grief that was awful to see. It was 
 only for a moment. There was a short death-rattle 
 in Joe's throat, a brief convulsive shudder, and the 
 breathing ceased. One of the neighbors rose and 
 stopped the little wooden clock upon the mantel, 
 and turned to the wall the room's one picture, and 
 
 F 65 
 
66 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 they all knew that the end had come. Then Mollie 
 clutched little Jim to her breast and wailed in pas- 
 sionate sorrow. Little Jim had stared about him 
 bewildered, but now took fright, and added his cries 
 to his mother's ; and the neighbor women at first 
 wept beside her, but soon dried their tears that 
 they, if possible, might comfort her. 
 
 The tempest of MoUie's weeping soon spent 
 itself; but when she ceased to weep, the hard look 
 that was like a flint came back, and they wished 
 that she would weep again. But she did not, or 
 if she did, they did not know it. They " sat up 
 with Joe," as in duty bound, she neither objecting 
 nor expressing gratitude. They prepared his body 
 for the burial, and she watched the preparations 
 unmoved. They laid him away under the pine 
 tree in the edge of the clearing, — for she refused 
 to have his body taken to the cemetery, — and she 
 witnessed his burial without tears. The funeral, 
 which they held in the sumnner following, found 
 her present, with sunbonnet of black drawn over 
 her face ; but the face, when they saw it, was the 
 same face of flint, and she led little Jim away and 
 up the road from Hazel Patch church house to her 
 home on the southeast slope of Wild Cat Mountain, 
 and took up her lonely Hfe, with little Jim and her 
 sorrow for her only companions. 
 
 Yet the neighbors, who told of her conduct with 
 awe, added strange and inconsistent rumors. It 
 was reported that no day went by which did not 
 see some token of affection laid upon the grave 
 of Joe, and that at least once she had gotten little 
 Jim to sleep at night, rocking him back and forth 
 
The Battle of Wild Cat Mountain 67 
 
 in a hard chair that had no rockers, and then, laying 
 him on the bed, had gone out into the storm and 
 spent the night upon Joe's grave. 
 
 Tkere was no reasoning with her ; and when she 
 declared that she would live there just the same, 
 and tend the little farm the best she could, the 
 neighbors knew better than to try to dissuade her, 
 and did their best to help her along. Several times 
 she found a dressed chicken or a sack of meal at 
 her door, and it was understood that before the end 
 of October the neighbors would gather in and husk 
 her corn. But it was in October that the fight 
 came, and that changed many plans about Wild Cat. 
 
 Back from the road, and little concerned with the 
 world outside, MoUie knew not of the approach 
 of the two armies ; of Zollicoffer on the east, and 
 Garrard with his Kentuckians, and Carter with his 
 Tennesseeans on the west. On the day that the 
 battle came — which was the twenty-first, as they 
 remembered so well afterward — she had gotten Jim 
 to sleep, and had gone far down the branch to a 
 neighbor's to see if they would market for her her 
 little surplus of beans. She chose the time when 
 Jim was asleep, because she had the beans to " pack," 
 and the way was rough and hard for little Jim, who 
 himself needed to be "packed" at intervals. She 
 had rarely left him, and, as she went, she hurried 
 with the sack upon her back. Just as she neared 
 the neighbor's house, she was stopped by a soldier 
 in gray, who ordered her to return ; and, looking 
 past him, she saw that the road was full of soldiers 
 moving up the hill. She hurried back, but soon 
 was stopped by other soldiers. The mountain 
 
68 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 seemed alive with them, and up at the top she 
 heard the sound of guns. She turned this way and 
 that to reach her home. The battle came nearer 
 and nearer to her, and she was driven farther away 
 with each shifting of the position of the soldiers. 
 At length she lost her way and wandered afar, 
 being guided back by the sound of the firing, which 
 was resumed with greater fierceness later in the day. 
 As she approached her home toward evening, her 
 way was still blocked, but now by soldiers in blue 
 instead of gray, and they were hurrying through the 
 woods and down the ridges and defiles upon the 
 eastern side of the mountain, in hot pursuit of 
 the Confederates, who were retreating to London. 
 
 It was a small battle, as measured by comparison 
 with those that followed, but there were thirty Con- 
 federate dead, and five that wore the blue, with 
 wounded enough to keep the surgeons on both 
 sides busy, and men were not as yet accustomed to 
 the shedding of each other's blood. Besides, it is 
 impossible during, and immediately after, a battle, 
 to keep the reports of losses within bounds, and 
 with what the soldiers saw of carnage, — which God 
 knows was enough, — and what they believed of ex- 
 aggerated reports, it seemed to them a great battle, 
 — the first battle in Kentucky, and Zollicoffer was 
 defeated ! 
 
 A Tennessee company, moving through the 
 woods early in the day in pursuit of a straggling 
 band of Confederates who retreated before their 
 greater numbers, came upon a burning cabin, which 
 the rebels appeared to have fired before their with- 
 drawal. They had not held it long, as was evident 
 
The Battle of Wild Cat Mountain 69 
 
 from the untrampled yard, and the little field still 
 bearing its wealth of golden corn. Apparently a 
 squad had fallen upon the cabin, perhaps had plun- 
 dered it of its eatables, and, compelled to vacate 
 almost immediately, had set it on fire. The Ten- 
 nesseeans entered the clearing, and stopped to look 
 at the blazing building and to take breath before 
 pushing ahead. A little group gathered under a 
 great pine with a mound below it. 
 
 " Somebody buried here, I reckon, Jack ? " 
 
 "Yes. Somebody keered a heap for him, who- 
 ever he was. Look at them bright leaves, all tied 
 in a wreath. Somebody's put them here, and 
 hunted for all the bright an' purty ones." 
 
 " Some woman's done that. Reckon hit must a 
 ben her man that's dead. 'Tain't ben long. The 
 grave hain't ben thar many months. Say, Jack, 
 what was that ? " 
 
 " What was what ? " 
 
 " Listen ! Hit sounds lack a baby a-cryin'/' 
 
 " It's in the house, as I'm a hvin' man ! " cried 
 Jack. 
 
 A score of faces turned pale, that had looked that 
 day on bloodshed without flinching. To see men 
 killed was terrible, but this was unendurable. 
 There was a child in the burning house, and there 
 was not a moment to be lost. 
 
 "Who'll volunteer to go in an' get that baby?" 
 cried Captain Cooper. 
 
 For a moment there was no response. Then 
 Jack Casey cried, " I'll go ! " 
 
 " Ef you go, I'll go with ye," answered Henry. 
 
 They moved around the house to find the best 
 
•JO A Hero in Homespun 
 
 way of approach. There were but two doors, and 
 the flames were bursting out of one. The door on 
 the other side was closed. The child's cry ceased 
 as they passed around, whether because they could 
 not hear him through the closed door, or because 
 the flames had caught him, they could not be sure. 
 Together the two men rushed forward, with half a 
 score hard behind them, and burst in the door. 
 
 " Git down, Hank, an' crawl. The smoke hain't 
 so bad." 
 
 But in the moment that the door was burst in, 
 the wind, rushing through, for an instant almost 
 cleared the room of smoke, but in another filled it 
 with flame. The one instant was enough. In it 
 they both saw dimly, in the corner nearest them, 
 the bed, on which the choking child had almost 
 ceased to cry. Jack seized the little one in his arms 
 and rushed out. Henry retreated to the door and 
 looked back to be sure whether the room had other 
 inmates, but was at once driven out by the flame. 
 The soldiers drew back to the edge of the clearing 
 and laid the little one on the grass. Then they 
 turned to Jack and Henry. 
 
 " Burn ye. Hank ? " 
 
 " Nope." 
 
 " Git scorched. Jack ? " 
 
 " Singed my har a little mite, but nary burn." 
 
 The child was also unhurt, though gasping for 
 breath. Asleep on the bed and covered with Mol- 
 lie's saddle shawl, he had escaped the notice of the 
 rebels in their hasty visit, and had awakened barely 
 in time to be rescued. 
 
 What to do with the boy was the next question. 
 
The Rescue of Cub. Page 70. 
 
J 
 
The Battle of Wild Cat Mountain 71 
 
 He was a lusty young fellow of three or four years. 
 His father, they judged from the grave near by, was 
 dead. The mother — they had many and unfounded 
 conjectures. Those were the days of wild tales of 
 rebel atrocities ; and there were atrocities enough on 
 both sides, in all conscience. But in the heat of 
 that day when they first saw blood, in the anger 
 and hatred of battle, the theory that commended 
 itself to them was one that would have been in- 
 stantly rejected after a few months of fighting, which 
 was that the mother had been foully dealt with and 
 grossly murdered, and the body left with the living 
 child to perish in the fire which they had kindled 
 to conceal their brutal deed. 
 
 They sent the boy to the hospital. Jack and 
 Henry agreeing to see to him when the battle was 
 over. "Jack an' Hank's Cub," the soldiers lov- 
 ingly dubbed him, in affection for the child and the 
 foster parents also ; for it was their fashion to dis- 
 semble their love behind rude sobriquets. Soon 
 the name proved burdensome, and the whole com- 
 pany came to share, though in lesser degree, the 
 paternal relation to the child, who thence became 
 simply " The Cub." 
 
 It was four days before Jack and Henry saw their 
 protege. They were sent in pursuit of ZollicofFer 
 to London, a dozen miles advance from the victory 
 at Wild Cat. There they halted, and ZoUicoffer's 
 army turned aside to Mill Spring, yet held Cumber- 
 land Gap, though now somewhat insecurely. 
 
 The troops were in high spirits. They had 
 fought a battle and won it. They had held their 
 ground against two fierce attacks, and had driven 
 
72 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 the enemy from the field. They were advanced a 
 good distance toward the Gap, and the wav was 
 clear to the Cumberland. Before them there was 
 a fight, no doubt, at Cumberland Ford, and another 
 at the Gap. But how could Zollicoffer now defend 
 the Gap with his main force turned aside.'' Victory 
 was already theirs. Cumberland Gap was theirs ; 
 and when its walls, like those of Jericho, should 
 have fallen before them, there would be a clear 
 entrance into the land of promise. They would 
 drive out the rebels as Joshua did the Canaanites. 
 Such literary and historical precedents as they pos- 
 sessed were from Scripture, and that was their stock 
 illustration. They would capture the Gap like 
 Jericho. Knoxville should be to them as Ai, and 
 they would hang its military governor. Wood, of 
 whom they had been hearing hard tales, as Joshua 
 hanged the Canaanite king, and the righteous should 
 dwell in the land ; every man under his own vine, 
 and every man under his own fig tree, all the days 
 of Andrew Johnson and of Parson Brownlow. 
 
 At this time Andrew Johnson, on his way north 
 to Congress, came to see the soldiers from his own 
 State, and greatly encouraged them with the thought 
 of an immediate deliverance for East Tennessee. 
 General Thomas was becoming more and more 
 anxious for such an advance. It would come as 
 soon as transportation and reinforcements could be 
 brought up. Meantime the soldiers possessed their 
 souls in patience, and whetted their spirits for the 
 victory that was in sight. 
 
 When the baggage wagons that had been at Liv- 
 ingstone and Wild Cat came to London, they brought 
 
The Battle of Wild Cat Mountain 73 
 
 little Cub. He was eagerly claimed by Jack and 
 Henry, and the whole company, of which he was 
 made an honorary member. He had cried at first, 
 the teamster said, for " Mammy," but after the 
 second night had ceased to mourn, and, from the 
 first, had taken kindly to the soldiers. They set 
 themselves to spoil him as rapidly as might be. 
 They had a uniform made for him out of blue, and, 
 short as were the troops of uniforms, it is to be 
 feared that the commissary connived at the theft of 
 a coat to be devoted to this use. They made him 
 a wooden sword, and a military hat with a turkey 
 feather, and taught him to shout " Forward, march !" 
 and to exact obedience. 
 
 The whole company, from Captain Cooper to the 
 big, black teamsters, loved the bright and happy 
 little Cub. The whole regiment began to take an 
 interest in him, and the other regiments to envy 
 them. Rough, bearded men with children at home 
 fondled him, and thought of their own little ones. 
 Profane men, who began an oath, were suddenly 
 stopped by some companion, and, looking about, 
 saw Cub, and blushed. No one thought him a 
 burden to the company. They would soon be at 
 home, anyway. 
 
 Thus Cub had a merry time of it, and the soldiers 
 were happy with him ; but, up on the slope of Wild 
 Cat Mountain, a woman wandered, a raving maniac, 
 sleeping at night on a lone grave beneath a tall pine 
 tree, and asking men whom she met in her wan- 
 derings if they had seen anything of Joe, or of little 
 Jim. 
 
VI 
 
 The Fighting Parson 
 
 COLONEL WOOD, in command of the 
 Confederate forces at Knoxville after the 
 withdrawal of General ZollicofFer, paced up 
 and down his room in indignation and per- 
 plexity. Before him lay several letters from his 
 officers in East Tennessee, complaining of the bit- 
 terness of the Union spirit, and the difficulty which 
 the troops were having because of it. Upon the 
 table also were several recent issues of the Knoxville 
 Whig^ which he had been intently reading. A citizen 
 entered the room. 
 
 " Good morning, Colonel Wood." 
 
 " Good morning, Mr. Sumner. I am glad to see 
 you. Have a chair." 
 
 " I came over, Colonel, to have a little talk with 
 you about Parson Brownlow. The grand jury, which 
 is just beginning its session at Nashville, is likely to 
 indict him for treason," 
 
 " He deserves it ! " interrupted Colonel Wood. 
 
 " That may be, and yet I should be sorry to have 
 it done. He is an extreme and abusive man, and 
 rarely does justice to his opponents, but he is con- 
 scientious, and his intentions are good." 
 
 "Hell is paved with good intentions," replied the 
 colonel. 
 
 74 
 
The Fighting Parson 75 
 
 " So I have heard. You used to be a minister, 
 did you not, Colonel ? " 
 
 " Yes ; I am still a minister of the Methodist 
 Church, and am preaching the Gospel of peace and 
 of human rights in my present position." 
 
 " Weil, you ministers might be a little more chari- 
 table toward each other than you and Brownlow 
 seem to be. However, that is not what 1 came to 
 say. I am sorry to have Brownlow arrested for 
 treason. If he should be convicted and hanged, 
 hundreds of Confederate sympathizers, like myself, 
 who do not agree with him, and who have some- 
 times differed with him sharply, and who are most 
 ready of all men to admit his infelicities of temper 
 and of speech, but who respect his integrity and 
 intentions, would be most sorry." 
 
 " I don't see how it is to be helped. He has 
 brought it upon himself." 
 
 " That may be, but he has done it honestly and 
 bravely." 
 
 " But, man, look at it from the military point of 
 view. Here we are, in the midst of a hostile peo- 
 ple. I need not hesitate to say to you that we 
 have been greatly disappointed in the conduct of 
 East Tennessee. We knew their sentiments before 
 the war began. We knew that, separated as they 
 are from the more wealthy portions of the South, 
 their sympathies were more positively national and 
 less sectional. We knew that, while few of them 
 are rabid abolitionists, many of them are opposed 
 to slavery, and few are bound to defend it by reason 
 of property considerations, as is true in the re- 
 mainder of the South. Still, we hoped that when 
 
76 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 the war had once begun, State pride would assert 
 itself, and that the spirit of kinship with the rest of 
 the South would animate them, and we should have 
 thousands of them in the Confederate army." 
 
 " You did not know them, Colonel, that is 
 evident." 
 
 " I know them now to my sorrow. They have 
 resisted all our efforts to have them join the South- 
 ern army. A few have come, and most of these 
 half-heartedly and over-persuaded." 
 
 " Over-persuaded is a good word, I think, 
 Colonel." 
 
 " I admit that we have used harsh measures. 
 But how could we help it ? These vdlains have 
 not a spark of honor. They take the oath in pref- 
 erence to going to prison, and then either evade it, 
 or connive at measures which violate its spirit, and 
 say that they have taken it ' from the teeth out.' 
 They shoot our soldiers from ambush. We have 
 lost scores of them, basely murdered in cold blood." 
 
 " The people have had strong provocation. Your 
 soldiers have done no little looting, and have been 
 guilty of intimidation and other crimes." 
 
 " Undoubtedly; it is impossible to hold in check 
 so great a body of men in the midst of people who 
 continually insult and harass them. But to return 
 to Brownlow. In all these months of our occu- 
 pancy his paper has been most bitter, and is in- 
 creasingly so." 
 
 " Yes, it was more temperate when General Zol- 
 licoffer was here in person." 
 
 " General ZoUicoffer's action I will not criticise, 
 but I am disposed to think that his friendship for 
 
The Fighting Parson yy 
 
 Brownlow, his previous connection with the work 
 of a newspaper in this city, and his own political 
 sentiments made him err on the side of charity." 
 
 " I reckon he had more charity for printers, 
 having been one." 
 
 " And for the old Whigs, having been one." 
 
 " More than you for preachers, having been 
 one." 
 
 " The last few weeks his editorials have been 
 past endurance. Have you read them ^ " 
 
 " Indeed I have. Colonel. Have you ? " 
 
 " Read them .? How could I help it ? A score 
 of copies are brought to me by indignant officers. 
 Marked copies come to me by mail, one of them, I 
 think, from the office of the M^/iig itself" 
 
 " What do you think of his call for Confederate 
 troops ? " 
 
 " It is insufferable. For three weeks he has 
 been calling on the Confederate sympathizers to 
 make good their boasts and join the Confederate 
 army. Under guise of this call he has exposed the 
 weakness of our hold upon the people of this 
 region. He has referred again and again to the 
 prospect of a draft. He has ironically urged the 
 men of property and position to enter the army, 
 and thus has bred discontent among the poorer 
 people, from whom we had so hoped for a large 
 number of soldiers. These now are saying, in echo 
 of his editorial, that those wealthy Tennesseeans who 
 shout most loudly for the Confederacy are most 
 slow in offering themselves." 
 
 " There is rather too much truth in it to be com- 
 fortable," said Mr. Sumner, with a rather uncom- 
 
yS A Hero in Homespun 
 
 fortable laugh. " I want the South to succeed, but 
 I confess that I am a httle slow about enlisting, 
 with the Union forces moving, as they are said to 
 be, toward Cumberland Gap, and with thousands 
 of our own people, who have gone into Kentucky 
 to enlist, eager to come back and visit upon the 
 heads of all who have been concerned in the rebel- 
 lion the evils which they have suffered. Besides 
 all that, there is the danger of confiscation and 
 financial ruin. You cannot wonder that men of 
 means here in Knoxville are slow to offer them- 
 selves for military service." 
 
 " We will not discuss that, Mr. Sumner. Per- 
 sonally, I believe that men who believe in the 
 justice of our cause should pledge as our fathers 
 did for their independence, their lives, their fort- 
 unes, and their sacred honor. But to have this 
 flung in our faces by Brownlow, and then flung up 
 again by the men whom we have all but persuaded 
 to enlist, is not pleasant." 
 
 " I can believe it. It is hardly less pleasant for us." 
 
 " That man deserves to be hung. He has kept 
 ten thousand men out of the army. He has given 
 aid and comfort to our enemies. He has scattered 
 broadcast treasonable information. He has rejoiced 
 over our misfortunes. He has stimulated the hos- 
 tility of East Tennesseeans until we are on the 
 crater of a volcano. If the Yankees should succeed 
 in taking Cumberland Gap, I am not sure but they 
 would rise and hang us all. And every week makes 
 the situation worse." 
 
 "Colonel, do you think it possible that they can 
 capture the Gap ? " 
 
The Fighting Parson 79 
 
 "We could hold the Gap against any force if it 
 were well provisioned and supported. But if Gen- 
 eral ZoUicoffer should be defeated, what with the 
 knowledge our soldiers have of the hostility in their 
 rear, they would give up the Gap without a struggle." 
 
 " I am afraid you are right, Colonel ; and if so, 
 can you wonder that business men of Knoxville, 
 whose sympathies are with the South, should hesi- 
 tate to take a pronounced stand in favor of it ? " 
 
 " I do not wonder, but I do not like it. How- 
 ever, there is one thing certain : Brownlow must 
 be suppressed." 
 
 " That seems likely to be done. But can we do 
 nothing to save him from arrest ^ " 
 
 " I am not anxious to save him. Yet, I would 
 do so if I could honorably. He might take the 
 oath, or a parole to be silent, and we could save the 
 indictment." 
 
 " I am afraid it is no use to suggest that. But I 
 intend to go to him. Will you come with me ? " 
 
 " I have been on the point of calling on him, but 
 I dread his abuse. I will go with you, if you wish. 
 Perhaps he will be more courteous." 
 
 " Very well ; let us go over." 
 
 The office of the Knoxville fFhig, then one of the 
 most famous of American journals, and the only 
 Union paper published within the Confederacy, 
 stood back from Gay Street, and was reached by 
 a narrow alley. It was a plain, one-story building, 
 with press room in the basement. The editorial 
 and business office and the compositors were on the 
 ground floor, and above the office was an attic in 
 which the editor had a few books, among them 
 
8o A Hero in Homespun 
 
 Helper's " Impending Crisis," for loaning which 
 one of Brownlow's sons was arrested. 
 
 Down the alley that led past a business house 
 built in front, Colonel Wood and Mr. Sumner 
 picked their way to the sanctum of the Whig. 
 
 Parson Brownlow was reading the proof of an 
 editorial when they entered his office. His dark 
 face looked darker as they saw it in the shadow, 
 and his heavy jaw had a determined look about its 
 hard lines, which was not encouraging. He sat with 
 his back to the window and looked squarely into 
 their faces, and they looked toward him and the 
 light as they talked. 
 
 " Mr. Brownlow," said Mr. Sumner, " Colonel 
 Wood and I have called to consult you about 
 your editorials in the Whig. Some of them seem 
 to us a direct incitement to insurrection. You have 
 even counselled the destruction of property and 
 almost the destruction of life." 
 
 " I have said that the railroad that bears our 
 loyal citizens south to die in rebel prisons ought 
 to be eternally destroyed, and the men guiltv of 
 this outrage should pav the forfeit with their lives, 
 and have offered to print in a roll of honor the 
 names of men who would do it," said Brownlow. 
 
 " You will readily understand, Mr. Brownlow," 
 continued Mr. Sumner, " that men having business 
 interests in Knoxville and in sympathy with the 
 South — " 
 
 " While careful to keep a whole skin themselves," 
 interrupted Brownlow. 
 
 " Never mind that. You have had your say on 
 that subject through the columns of the Whig, Now 
 
The Fighting Parson 
 
 let me talk. We have labored long and hard to 
 secure the building of railroads to Knoxville." 
 
 "And no man harder than I," said Brownlow. 
 
 " Gentlemen," interrupted Wood, " this is beside 
 the mark. The question is not one of finance 
 or of business interests. The matter of destruc- 
 tion of property is not now to be considered from 
 its business, but from its military, point of view. 
 Mr. Brownlow has incited his minions to rise and 
 destroy the railroads. He has taunted us with our 
 misfortunes, and has published them to our enemies. 
 He has hindered enlistments, and has given aid to 
 the miscreants who are waylaying and murdering our 
 soldiers. Forbearance has ceased to be a virtue." 
 
 "Indeed it has," said Brownlow. "You hypo- 
 crite, parson at once and henchman of Jeff Davis ! 
 You have stolen the livery of heaven to serve the 
 devil in ! You preach on Sunday, and in the week 
 encourage your drunken troops to enter my prem- 
 ises, brandish their weapons, throw filth at my house, 
 insult my wife and children, and threaten my life ! " 
 
 " I have done no such thing," said Wood. " I 
 have tried to restrain my troops. You have goaded 
 them to desperation. You have flaunted the Union 
 rag in their face from the roof of the veranda of 
 your house. You have abused them through the 
 columns of your paper and in private and public 
 speech." 
 
 " You are a lying hypocrite," said Brownlow ; " a 
 renegade minister of the Gospel. You have laid aside 
 the robes of the sacred office you dishonored, to be- 
 come a traitor against your God and your country ! " 
 
 Colonel Wood rose from his seat. 
 
82 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " Mr. Brownlow, I will not bandy abusive epi- 
 thets with you. I will at least be a gentleman. 
 And I will not wait until my insulted manhood 
 goads me to use my position to bring upon you the 
 punishment in my power, and which you so richly 
 deserve. It is an errand of kindness that has 
 brought us here. Mr. Sumner is your friend. I, 
 in spite of all your abuse, am a brother minister. 
 We have come to say that this must stop. The 
 grand jury is now in session, and, within a week, 
 will have an indictment against you for treason. 
 You know what will happen, if you are tried on that 
 charge. Better men than you, and men who have 
 been less flagrantly guilty, have been hanged. Now, 
 sir, will you take the oath and escape this ? " 
 
 Parson Brownlow rose to his feet and faced the 
 colonel, his sallow face terrible to look upon in his 
 wrath. 
 
 " Do you mean to insult me with your proposal 
 to take the oath of allegiance to your hell-born and 
 hell-bound government ? " he demanded. 
 
 " Parson Brownlow, wait a minute," said Mr. 
 Sumner ; " I do not think you would be required to 
 take the oath. We know your convictions, and no 
 honorable man would ask you to falsify them. And 
 I, and many of your neighbors who do not agree 
 with you, would be perfectly willing to go your bond 
 upon your simple promise not to utter or print 
 treasonable words against the Confederacy." 
 
 " Such a promise, Mr. Sumner, I will never make. 
 You may hang me, but you can never muzzle me. 
 I have committed no offence. I have not shouldered 
 arms against the Confederate government or the 
 
The Fighting Parson 83 
 
 State, or encouraged others to do so. I have dis- 
 couraged rebelHon, publicly and privately. I have 
 protested against the outrages of this military des- 
 potism. I have refused to make war on the govern- 
 ment of the United States. I have refused to 
 publish to the world false and exaggerated accounts 
 of the several engagements had between the contend- 
 ing armies. I have refused to write out and publish 
 false versions of the origin of the war, and of the 
 breaking up of the best government the world ever 
 knew. All this I will continue to do, if it costs me 
 my life. Nay, when I agree to do otherwise, may a 
 righteous God palsy my right arm, and may the earth 
 open and close in upon me forever ! " 
 
 " Very well, sir," said the colonel, as he went 
 out ; " if you bring yourself to the gallows with your 
 obdurate treason, your blood be upon your own 
 head." 
 
 " Pray that it be not on yours," retorted Brown- 
 low, " you have blood enough there already." 
 
 Mr. Sumner remained with Brownlow after the 
 withdrawal of the officer. 
 
 " Mr. Brownlow, I am sorry that you insist upon 
 a course which can but involve you in trouble." 
 
 " Why should it involve trouble ? Does not this 
 detestable government believe in the freedom of the 
 press ? Has not Jeff Davis himself said, and with 
 reference to my paper, that he would not live in a 
 government in which the press was not free ? And 
 now the whole Confederate government insists on 
 breaking down the one newspaper in all these eleven 
 States that dares to expose the evils of this cursed 
 rebellion." 
 
84 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " I cannot talk of that with you, Mr. Brownlow ; 
 but, as a friend, I urge you to think of your own 
 safety. I must say that I think it exceedingly un- 
 wise for you to continue the Whigy 
 
 " Then let me tell you, Mr. Sumner, that I have 
 already determined to suspend the Whig. I know 
 that my arrest is determined. I shall not wait to 
 be arrested, knowing what trial would mean under 
 the practices of this rebellion. I am now reading 
 the proofs of what is to be for the present the last 
 issue of the Whig. I am reprinting to begin with 
 the articles which have been most criticised. I 
 want them to stand as my unalterable declaration 
 of principles. And here is my final editorial. I 
 shall not leave until this last issue is printed and 
 distributed. I may be arrested before I can get 
 away. If I am cast into prison, I want this edi- 
 torial to speak my final word to my constituency. 
 I have said here what I think of the boasted free- 
 dom of the press in the Southern Confederacy. I 
 have reviewed the course that brings me to prison. 
 Here is a paragraph which you may care to read." 
 
 Mr. Sumner took the damp proof-sheet, and read : 
 
 " I shall in no degree feel humbled by being cast into 
 prison, whenever it is the will and pleasure of this august 
 government to put me there ; but, on the contrary, I 
 shall feel proud of my confinement. I shall go to jail, as 
 John Rogers went to the stake, for mv principles. I shall 
 go because I have failed to recognize the hand of God 
 in the breaking up of the American government, and the 
 inauguration of the most wicked, cruel, unnatural, and 
 uncalled-for war ever recorded in history. I go because I 
 have refused to laud to the skies the acts of tyrannv. 
 
The Fighting Parson 85 
 
 usurpation, and oppression inflicted upon the people of 
 East Tennessee for their devotion to the constitution and 
 laws of the government handed down to them by their 
 fathers, and the liberties secured to them by a war of seven 
 long years of gloom, poverty, and trial. I repeat, I am 
 proud of my position and my principles, and shall leave 
 them to my children as a legacy far more valuable than a 
 princely fortune, had I the latter to bestow. 
 
 " The people of this country have been unaccustomed 
 to such wrongs. They are astounded for the time being 
 with the quick succession of outrages that have come upon 
 them, and they stand horror-stricken like men expecting 
 ruin and annihilation. I may not live to see the day, but 
 thousands of my readers will, when the people of this once 
 prosperous country will look these wanton outrages upon 
 life and liberty full in the face, and will ' stir the stones of 
 Rome to rise and mutiny.' The people of this country, 
 downtrodden and oppressed, still have the resolution of 
 their illustrious forefathers, who asserted their rights at 
 Lexington and Bunker Hill ! 
 
 " Exchanging, with proud satisfaction, the endearments 
 of home for a cell in the prison, or the lot of an exile, 
 " I have the honor to be, etc., 
 
 " William G. Brownlow, 
 
 " Editor of the Knoxville Whig. 
 
 " Knoxville, October 24, 1861." 
 
 "How do you like it?" asked the parson, as 
 Mr. Sumner handed him back the proof. 
 
 " It is characteristic," said Mr. Sumner. 
 
 " I shall go down with colors nailed to the mast," 
 said the parson. 
 
 " I think, Mr. Brownlow, you had better leave 
 the city as soon after publishing this as possible," 
 
 " I shall leave in a few days, if they do not arrest 
 
86 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 me first. But I shall not go at once. I shall wait and 
 see how it affects the rebels. I will not fire from 
 ambush. They may arrest me, if they wish, after 
 seeing my last utterance. But I shall not stay long." 
 
 Mr. Sumner took his departure, and called on 
 Colonel Wood. 
 
 " Bear with the brave old man a little longer," he 
 said, " and do not be in haste to arrest him, even if 
 the indictment is found. The matter will adjust 
 itself in a few days, and save you the criticism that 
 would surely follow if he were to be arrested." 
 
 So Parson Brownlow pubhshed the last issue of 
 the JVhig^ and waited about Knoxville for a week 
 without molestation. Then he began preparations 
 for an extended absence from home. He had had 
 his say. He had waited after the firing of his last 
 shot. He was ready now to go to prison or to exile, 
 
 Brownlow's enemies rejoiced, and his friends were 
 relieved when he left Knoxville, He had been a 
 thorn in the flesh of the Confederates for months, 
 and that he was allowed to continue so long, spoke 
 much for their forbearance. His unsparing invec- 
 tives, his incisive taunts, his pious, but none the 
 less vigorous, imprecations, were more than could 
 be borne by a city filled with hostile soldiers, who 
 suffered week by week under the lash of his tongue 
 and pen. For a few days he rode about Blount and 
 Sevier counties, collecting debts that were due him 
 for advertising in his paper. He returned secretly 
 to Knoxville and spent the first Sunday in Novem- 
 ber, and then withdrew again, and none too soon, 
 for an event occurred which compelled him to flee 
 for his life, and hide in the Great Smoky Mountains. 
 
VII 
 
 Burning the Bridges 
 
 A GROUP of men were gathered on Friday, 
 the 7th of November, in the woods near 
 the East Tennessee railroad. The sun 
 had gone down, and the short twihght was 
 deepening into night. 
 
 " We're all here, boys, I reckon," said Jacob 
 Hanson. 
 
 " Yes, all here," said Henry. 
 
 " I'm mighty glad you're with us. Hank," said 
 his neighbor, Hensie. 
 
 " So am I. It ain't quite in line with my instruc- 
 tions, but it's helping the Union army." 
 
 " Yes, this railroad has been haulin' a stream of 
 rebel fire right through East Tennessy the last year. 
 What with the cotton States to the south, an' 
 V'ginny to the east, we've had to take it from both 
 sides along the line of this road." 
 
 " An' our friends sent south to rebel prisons, 
 too." 
 
 " Yes ; that was what made Parson Brownlow the 
 maddest. He said to let the railroad that tuck our 
 loyal men south to prison be etarnally destroyed." 
 
 " Well, that's about wut's goin' to be did. Have 
 you got the fire ? " 
 
 " Yep. You reckon we've got pine knots 
 enough.?" 
 
 87 
 
A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " Plenty. We mustn't use more'n half on 'em 
 at the first bridge. We'll need half for the other." 
 
 " What shall we use besides the pine knots ? " 
 
 " Tear down the neardest rail fence and pile on 
 top." 
 
 " Better let that liquor alone, boys," said Jacob 
 Hanson, for some of the men were passing a bottle 
 too frequently. " We'll need to be cool to-night." 
 
 " Who's at the head of this expedition ? " asked 
 Henry. " I didn't know about it till I got home 
 to-night." 
 
 " Parson Carter, of Carter County. He's kin of 
 your cun'l. He's planned the burning of six 
 bridges to-night, taking in all the important ones 
 for a hundred miles each side o' Knoxville." 
 
 "Parson Carter!" exclaimed Henry. "Why, it 
 was to Rev. William B. Carter I brought my mes- 
 sage from General Thomas." 
 
 " Sartin. Pap Thomas knows about it, an' so 
 does Abe Lincoln, an' they want the bridges burned 
 just as the Union army moves through the Gap." 
 
 " Put away that bottle, boys," again said Jacob. 
 " Whiskey's all right in its place, but you've had 
 enough fur to-night." 
 
 They made their way through the woods to where 
 the railroad crosses a creek of considerable width. 
 They looked up and down the track. No train 
 was in sight. No soul was about. 
 
 " Henry, you fetch half the pine, an' the rest of 
 you go for them fence rails," said Jacob ; " and here, 
 Sam, give me that fire." 
 
 Jacob Hanson moved to the middle of the wooden 
 bridge, and blew and blew till the dull coal glowed, 
 
Burning the Bridges 89 
 
 and, placing it upon a tie in the middle of the bridge, 
 continued to blow, while he laid upon it slivers 
 which Henry tore from the pine. In a moment a 
 bright blaze appeared, and more pine was added. 
 Jacob held the knots till they were well ablaze, and 
 laid skilfully the dry sticks which Henry brought 
 to him. It was some distance to a fence, and the 
 fire was mounting high when the rails began to 
 come. Eight sturdy fellows came carrying two long 
 rails each, and one or two brought three. They 
 went back and brought another load, and then a 
 third, and Jacob and Henry laid them diagonally 
 across the fire. 
 
 " Lay 'em criss-cross, Henry, not straight, like 
 that. Lay 'em so's when they burn in two they 
 won't drap inter the water. Thar. Leave open 
 spaces for the fire to git through, thataway. Hit's 
 as good as a grate an' a chimbly. Them iron tracks 
 makes mighty good fire dogs, an' the fence rails is 
 dry as punk. Ef hit don't all burn 'thout ketchin' 
 the ties. No, they're gittin' lit. Now they're 
 burnin'. All right, boys ! Now fur the Holston ! " 
 
 " You don't have no sorter doubt this is right, do 
 you, Fry ? " asked a man named Haun. 
 
 " Not a mite. Do you, Hensie ? " 
 
 " Nary bit. Wen the Union army comes down, 
 ef the railroad is here the rebs will jes' jump on the 
 train an' git to kingdom come before the Union 
 sojers kin ketch 'em. We mus' keep 'em here till 
 the army comes. They've tuck away our guns so's 
 we cyan't fight much, but we kin hold 'em wile the 
 army licks 'em." 
 
 " I call this part o' the lickin'," said Henry. 
 
go A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " It's the railroad fetches 'em their provisions. Ef we 
 fix 'em so's they'll go hungry a spell, they'll know 
 how hit feels to some o' the people they've robbed." 
 
 It was late at night when they came to the bridge 
 over the Holston. Near the little hamlet of Straw- 
 berry Plains the railroad spans the river. Here 
 was a fine long bridge, built upon eleven piers. 
 This was a more dangerous attempt. They paused 
 near the bridge and laid their plans. 
 
 " Less git our rails an' have 'em near afore we set 
 the fire," said Hensie. " They's a fence thisaway. 
 Come, Fry an' Haun ! Mr. Hanson, you bester 
 git yer pine knots a-blazin' good afore we start, an' 
 Hank, you git ye a big bundle of dry sticks." 
 
 Pursuant to this plan, the rails were piled out of 
 sight at the end of the bridge, and all was in readi- 
 ness for a start, when a shout was heard from the 
 guard-house below the bridge. 
 
 " Hurry, boys ! " cried Jacob. " Half o' you 
 hold back the guard, an' the rest come with me ! " 
 
 The sober members of the party for the most 
 part stayed with Jacob, and the others engaged the 
 guard. There was but one Confederate soldier 
 guarding the bridge, but he was sober and brave. 
 He faced his half dozen assailants without flinching, 
 and wounded two of them before they got near him. 
 In the darkness they became confused and got to 
 fighting each other, and then alarmed the men upon 
 the bridge with cries that a large body of soldiers 
 was upon them. The fire was blazing high, and 
 the whole party took to their heels, bearing away 
 their wounded as they went. Then the brave 
 
The Burning of the Bridges. Page 90. 
 
Burning the Bridges 91 
 
 guard, whose single arm had driven away the burn- 
 ers, faint and wounded as he was, attacked the fire 
 and saved the bridge. 
 
 The men were chagrined at their defeat, and the 
 sober ones bitterly reproached the others. But it 
 was no use crying over spilt milk, and besides they 
 had succeeded with one bridge, and four others were 
 burned by other parties. 
 
 " You don't reckon they's any doubt, do you. 
 Hank," asked Hensie, " that the Union army is 
 
 sure a-comm 
 
 ' ?" 
 
 " Not a mite," said Henry. " That's what I 
 come to tell Parson Carter. They was at London 
 wen I lef, an' Cun'l Carter had some men on 
 plumb to the Cumberland River at Barboursville. 
 I shouldn't wonder ef they had took the Gap by 
 this time." 
 
 " I hope so," said Haun. " I wouldn't mind so 
 much, but I'd sorter hate to git hung. I got a wife 
 an' a fambly o' little fellers, an' one's a baby. I'd 
 sorter hate to git hung." 
 
 " They wouldn't none on us like hit right well," 
 said Fry. " But the kingdom's a-comin'. They 
 won't nobody git hung fur this. The rebs will be 
 so skeered, wut with our burnin' the bridges an' the 
 Yankees a-comin', they'll swim the streams to git 
 over inter V'ginny an' to the cotton States." 
 
 " An' they'll come out lack Pharaoh's hostis," 
 said Jacob. 
 
 "You're mighty right," said Hensie. "An' we'll 
 sing to the Lord, for he hath triumphed gloriously. 
 But I'd hate powerful to stretch hemp. Good 
 night, boys ! " 
 
92 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " Good night. We won't stretch no hemp. But 
 you kin sorter be twistin' some for the rebs." 
 
 Thus the men went to their homes in min- 
 gled triumph and trepidation. The plan which 
 they had just executed had been under con- 
 sideration for months, ever since the suggestion 
 of the destruction of the railroads in the Whig^ 
 and the event which had caused it to be de- 
 cided upon was the news, brought by couriers, of 
 whom Henry was one, detailed to bring the 
 report of the victory at Wild Cat. Henry had 
 found the plot in readiness for execution when 
 he arrived at home, and, flushed with the joy of 
 victory, he had joined his father in it. 
 
 Colonel Wood was finding his position in Knox- 
 ville anything but a bed of roses. He had tried to 
 be at once a gentleman, a soldier, and a Christian 
 minister. He preached at times in the Methodist 
 Church, and endeavored to promote among his 
 soldiers a spirit of reverence and fidelity. But his 
 soldiers were not all as pious as might have been 
 expected of the troops of such a commander, and 
 the populace were in almost open rebellion. It was 
 a relief when the Whig ceased its publication, and 
 when in the first week of November it was reported 
 that Brownlow had left, one thorn was withdrawn 
 from the flesh of the commander. But there was 
 other news that greatly distressed him. Following 
 the defeat at Wild Cat, there was the most trying 
 exhibition of effrontery on the part of the loyal citi- 
 zens, and of fear and distress on the part of the 
 Southern sympathizers. 
 
Burning the Bridges 93 
 
 Officers began to send in word that the people 
 were getting out their hidden arms. One reported 
 that the women were engaged in making flags, and 
 that when discovered they did not even attempt to 
 conceal their work. There was an outbreak of citi- 
 zens against the soldiery in Knoxville. There were 
 official reports of similar outbreaks elsewhere in 
 East Tennessee. 
 
 In distress, Colonel Wood wrote to General 
 ZollicoflFer : 
 
 "Knoxville, October 28, 1861. 
 
 " General : — The news of your falling back to Cum- 
 berland Ford has had the effect of developing a feeling that 
 had only been kept under by the presence of troops. It 
 was plainly visible that the Union men were so glad that 
 they could hardly repress an open expression of their joy. 
 This afternoon it assumed an open character, and some 
 eight or ten of the bullies, or leaders, made an attack on 
 some of my men, near the Lamar House, and seriously 
 wounded several. Gentlemen who witnessed the whole 
 affair say that my men gave no offence and were not at all 
 to blame. The affair became general directly, and the 
 couriers were sent to apprise me at my camp of its exist- 
 ence. I immediately marched Captain White's cavalry 
 and one hundred of my men into the town to arrest the 
 assailants, but they made their escape, 
 
 " The Southerners here are considerably alarmed, believ- 
 ing that there is a preconcerted plan for a united action 
 among the Union men, if by any means the enemy shall 
 get into Tennessee. Lieutenant Swan told me to-night 
 that he heard one say this evening, as Captain White's 
 cavalry rode through town, that ' they could do so now ; 
 but in less than ten days the Union forces would be here, 
 and run them off.' I cannot well tell you the many evi- 
 
94 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 dences of disaffection which are manifested every day, and 
 the increased boldness that it is assuming. 
 " Very respectfully, 
 
 "W. B. Wood, Col. Com'g Post. 
 " Brigadier General Zollicoffer." 
 
 There can be no doubt that this letter contains 
 the exact truth. The relations of the citizens to 
 the soldiers were strained to the breaking point. 
 The case was parallel to that in Boston at the time 
 of what is called the Boston Massacre. The only 
 thing needed to goad the loyal men to action was 
 the approach of the army of Thomas. This, and 
 the suppression of the tVhig, were the two events 
 that brought matters to a crisis. 
 
 Colonel Wood began to be uncertain whether he 
 had not erred on the side of mercy in letting 
 Parson Brownlow escape. He knew every foot 
 of East Tennessee. He was known to all the 
 people. If he were to go out among them on the 
 heels of this news, and speak at meetings and in- 
 flame the people, adding to all his other pleas that of 
 his own persecution and exile, to what acts of mutiny 
 might he not stir the people ? Something dreadful 
 was certain to happen, and it had been a mistaken 
 kindness that had allowed him to leave the city. 
 
 These were the last thoughts of Colonel Wood 
 as he lay down to sleep the Friday night after the 
 departure of Brownlow. He awoke next morning 
 with a start. There was pounding at his door. A 
 messenger was there in haste, 
 
 " Colonel Wood ! Colonel Wood ! The bridges 
 are burned ! " 
 
Burning the Bridges 95 
 
 " The bridges ? What bridges ?" 
 
 " Five railroad bridges, both sides of the city. 
 That over the Holston was saved by the most 
 desperate means ! " 
 
 " This is the work of Brov/nlow ! " cried Wood. 
 " What a fool I was to let him go I " 
 
 He dressed and examined the reports. The 
 bridges were widely separated, and must have been 
 burned by different parties, acting in concert. The 
 railroads on which Knoxville depended for its con- 
 nection with the Confederacy, east and south, were, 
 for the time being, useless. Knoxville was isolated, 
 an island, in a sea of loyal and determined men. 
 There was no telling how strong and far-reaching 
 the movement was. The hand of Brownlow 
 seemed apparent in it. 
 
 He telegraphed to Richmond, and received from 
 Secretary Benjamin an order to hunt down the 
 bridge-burners at all hazard, to trv them before a 
 drum head court martial, to hang them beside the 
 bridges they had burned, and to leave their bodies 
 hanging as a warning to others. It was a terrible 
 order, but the Confederate authorities were at their 
 wits' end how to suppress the constant mutiny 
 among the East Tennesseeans, and had failed in 
 every gentler method. 
 
 Colonel Wood set about executing this order, 
 and said to his men, as they were drawn up on 
 horseback before starting : 
 
 " Hunt down the cowardly bridge-burners ; and 
 if you find Brownlow, take no chances of his escape. 
 If need be, shoot him without mercy." 
 
96 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 Elizabeth Casey was wakened on Saturday night 
 by a knock on the door. It is rare that any one 
 knocks in East Tennessee. It is customary to sit 
 on the horse outside the fence and shout. It is con- 
 sidered more poHte. It is also at times more prudent. 
 
 " Who's thar ? " she cried, starting, and getting 
 out the gun. 
 
 " Hush up, Mis' Casey. Don't ye say a word. 
 Jis' git yer dress on, an' don' stop for no extry 
 fixin's, an' let me in. Hit's Steph Crowell." 
 
 " Wy, Steph ! " she exclaimed, opening the door 
 after a very brief delay ; " wut's the matter ? Wut 
 on airth fetches ye hyur at sech a time o' night as 
 this ? Se' down thar. Wait. I'll blow up the 
 fire, an' we'll hev a light." 
 
 " Don' make much light. Mis' Casey. I'll jes' 
 light this leetle chunk o' pine. Thar. That's better. 
 Mis' Casey, do ye know the way to Sevierville ? " 
 
 " Yes, I know it as well as I know the way to 
 the church house." 
 
 " Could ye find it in the night ? " 
 
 " Wy, sartin, ef thev was ary reason fur hit." 
 
 " Well, they's reason enough. I want ye to go 
 an' save the life o' Parson Brownlow." 
 
 " I'd ride furder'n thet to save his life. Tell me, 
 Steph, wut's it all about ? " 
 
 " Do ye know 'bout the burnin' o' the bridges ? " 
 
 " Yes, I heerd tell of it, an' was mighty nigh 
 tickled to death. Them was brave men, Steph." 
 
 " Well, I hain't got nothin' to say about thet. 
 You know I'm sorter on t'other side, Mis' Casey." 
 
 " You hain't nuther, Steph Crowell, an' you 
 know it." 
 
Burning the Bridges 97 
 
 " Wall, I hain't a-goin' to dispute with ye, but 
 hit's sorter important that ef I'm on the side o' the 
 Union, I shouldn't be thataway too strong. I'm 
 sorter lack the feller down to Tasewell that's got up 
 in his store a pictur' of a nigger slingin' up his hat 
 an' yellin' ' Dis Union furever ! ' Wen the rebs 
 was thar he tole 'em them was his sentiments, an' 
 they read hit 'Disunion furever.' Wen the Yanks 
 comes, he's a-goin' to pint to hit jes' the same, an' let 
 'em read hit, ' This Union furever.' I'm sorter lack 
 him, I reckon." 
 
 " That's a mighty bad way to be, 'cordin' to my 
 way o' thinkin'." 
 
 " Wall, Mis' Casey, I hain't got so much time to 
 argify with ye as I mought have under other sar- 
 cumstances, as the feller said when he run from 
 the sheriff. Parson Brownlow's a-goin' to preach 
 to-morrer in Sevierville, an' the cavalry's out 
 a-scourin' the kentry fur him. I was in Knoxville 
 las' night, an' the very ole devil's let loose thar. 
 Wen the news come, 'peared lack the everlastin' 
 bottom had fell plumb outen creation. The folks 
 was mighty nigh skeered to death. Wood, he didn't 
 know fur a spell wether he was foot or a-hoss- 
 back ; but he knows now, an' he's a-goin' to hang 
 Brownlow or shoot him, one, ef he kin git him in 
 range." 
 
 " May the Lord cause him to fall into the pit he 
 digs for the feet o' thet good man ! " ejaculated 
 Mrs. Casey. 
 
 " That sounds a heap lack some o' Brownlow's 
 sayin's. Ef hit warn't that he's a preacher, you 
 wouldn't know sometimes wether he's a-prayin' or 
 
98 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 quotin' Scripter chapter an' varse, or jus' plain every- 
 day sorter cussin'." 
 
 " It's my prayer," said Mrs. Casey. 
 
 " Wall, go ahead, then ; but ef you'll sorter leave 
 me to do the prayin' now till mornin', I want you to 
 do somethin' else." 
 
 " I'm afeard they wouldn't be much prayin' done 
 ef it was left to you, Steph." 
 
 " I don' know. I think a heap more'n folks 
 thinks I does sometimes, an', like as not, I'll be a 
 preacher yit." 
 
 " You'll hatter break that fiddle, first." 
 
 " I reckon I hain't got no real loud call to preach 
 yit, and the fiddle is sorter comp'ny ; but I want ye 
 to git onter the horse I fetched ye, an' go to Sevier- 
 ville. Hit'll be mornin' afore you git thar, an' the 
 parson'll be a-preachin', like as not. You needn't 
 be afeard o' breakin' the law agin disturbin' riligious 
 meetin's, but tell him to git, mighty quick. He's 
 as safe in Sevier County as anywere. Tell him to 
 git inter the hills of the Big Smoky. I reckon 
 some o' our fellers will hatter go thar, too, for the 
 rebs is a-huntin' on 'em down." 
 
 " You think I had orter go, stidder you ? " asked 
 Mrs. Casey. 
 
 " Laws, yes. Hit wouldn't do fur me ter go. I 
 jes' come from Knoxville. I gotter git home, an' 
 not a ben away from here. An' they cyan't nobody 
 take no news along the straight roads from Knox- 
 ville out, for they've proclaimed martial law, an' 
 nobody can't git outen Knoxville without a pass. I 
 stole a canoe to git out, myself, an' jes' let her drift. 
 They won't nobody think hit quare me a-leavin' to 
 
Burning the Bridges 99 
 
 come home, for they didn't see me, an' I won't be 
 missed; but ef I was to be found at Sevierville, I 
 dunno but wut they'd hang me. I'm goin' to the 
 Hansons* now an' tell 'em the news. They best be 
 keerful, for I sorter reckon mebby they know more 
 about them bridges than they'd wanter tell." 
 
 " I'll go, Steph. Have ye got me ary nag ? " 
 
 " Yes, they's a fraish horse at the door." 
 
 " Putt my side saddle on him, wile I git my best 
 clothes on. It won't take more'n fi' minutes." 
 
 It took rather less than that, and Elizabeth Casey 
 mounted, saying, 
 
 "Good-by, Steph. I'll be back a-Monday. I 
 sorter wisht you'd be either hot or cold, but I dunno 
 but you're a sorter lack Nicodemus, comin' to Jesus 
 by night." 
 
 " Nary Nicodemus. More lack the Ole Nick," 
 said Steph, whose best wit was at his own expense. 
 " Good night. Mis' Casey." 
 
 "Good night, Steph." 
 
 And with that Elizabeth was off. 
 
VIII 
 
 Retreat from a Vanquished Foe 
 
 HOWDY, Jack! Come hyur, Cub ! Jack 
 has you more'n's good fur him sence 
 Hank went hum. Come over hyur an' 
 I'll nuss ye. Git up on my shoulder, 
 thataway ! Now, up ! Thar ! See wut a big 
 man ! Cun'l Cyarter hain't nowar ! He's a bigger 
 man than ole Pap Thomas ! Now, see him march ! " 
 
 The strapping sergeant, Joe Hallet, caught Cub 
 up on his shoulder and marched up and down 
 before the tent with him. 
 
 " Now we'll march like a gin'r'l, stiff an' slow, 
 thisaway ! Now we'll march like we was goin' to 
 fight ole Zolly, thisaway ! Now we'll march like 
 ole Zolly a-runnin' away from Wild Cat, thisaway ! " 
 
 Joe put himself through all imaginable military 
 paces with Cub upon his shoulder, Cub at times 
 giving orders, which were promptly obeyed. A 
 group of soldiers always gathered about the front 
 of the tent when Cub was on parade. To hold him 
 was a luxury. To " pack him " was an honor to be 
 fought for. And many a soldier looked at him with 
 a soul-hunger in his eyes. They were not all saints, 
 those East Tennesseeans, and now and then they 
 looted a store. When they did so, the first thing 
 to be stolen, not even excepting the whiskey and 
 tobacco, was the stock of baby shoes, which they 
 
Retreat from a Vanquished Foe loi 
 
 tucked away in their knapsacks to take home to 
 the Httle ones that rarely owned a shoe. 
 
 " Did ye hear the news from East Tennessy, 
 Jack ? " 
 
 " No ; what news ? " 
 
 " Wy, the Union men have heerd that we're 
 comin', an' they've begun to organize an' git out 
 the ole guns that they've hid, an' they've riz up 
 agin the rebs. They licked 'em in Knoxville t'other 
 day, an' mighty nigh druv 'em out. Ole Wood had 
 to send to Zolly fur more troops. Zolly's gittin' 
 mighty skeered about the Gap. He knows we're 
 comin' up in front an' the home folks behind, an* 
 he's sorter between the devil an' the deep sea." 
 
 " He's right about that." 
 
 "Yes, an' las' Friday night the Union men got 
 together at Hiwassy an' at Lick Creek an' burned 
 the bridges. They know we're comin' to smite 'em 
 on the one cheek, an' they're gittin' good ready to 
 have 'em turn the other, an' wen they do, they'll 
 ketch it thar, sure's the gun's iron." 
 
 " Bully fur the bridge-burners ! Haey ! " 
 
 The Southerner cheers when he is mildly jubi- 
 lant, but in his intensest moments he breaks forth 
 into a yell that rends the air with indescribable 
 effect. It was such a yell that now went up, — a 
 yell of triumph over the patriotic uprising of their 
 kindred at home and of hope soon to share with 
 them a larger victory. 
 
 " Who's that yander ? " suddenly asked one of them. 
 
 A horseman had passed the lines and was coming 
 with news. His horse was wet and spattered and 
 had been deep in the mud of the road. 
 
I02 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " Hit's Lew Bailey," said Jack. Lew had been 
 one of the several messengers sent into East Ten- 
 nessee to report the Wild Cat victory and prepare 
 the people for the incursion of the troops. 
 
 " Hi, Lew ! Wut's the news ? " 
 
 Lew drew rein for a moment and let his horse 
 breathe. 
 
 " I got thar an' back all right," said Lew. " Had 
 to come back by the Big Creek Gap an' through the 
 edge of Whitley. But I'm here." 
 
 " Yes, you're all right. But how's the folks ? " 
 
 " Tol'able. They're gittin' mighty anxious to see 
 us. Heerd 'bout the bridge-burnin' ? " 
 
 " Yes ; we jis' heerd." 
 
 " Wall, they're arrestin' Union men right an' left 
 fur that. Wood's proclaimed martial law in Knox- 
 ville. Brownlow's tuck to the woods. They'd hang 
 him sure ef they got him. They've hung some 
 a' ready an' goin' to hang more. Hank Hanson an' 
 his dad was in hit. They hain't arrested them yit, 
 but I reckon they will ef we don' git thar soon. 
 The people cyan't stan' hit no longer. They want 
 us to come right off. Ef we don' go mighty soon, 
 they won't be none on 'em lef wen we do get thar." 
 
 Lew rode on to headquarters to report, and the 
 news quickly passed from mouth to mouth. The 
 whole camp was aflame. Then word came that 
 another courier had arrived from Crab Orchard 
 with messages from General Thomas. There could 
 be but one message now, they all thought, and 
 began their preparations for breaking camp. In an 
 hour the long roll beat, and the men fell in. Every 
 heart beat high. Visions of victory and of home 
 
Retreat from a Vanquished Foe 103 
 
 rose before the minds of two thousand homesick 
 and loyal men. Colonel Carter took his position 
 before the brigade. 
 
 " Attention ! " The order rang clear and strong. 
 
 " You are commanded to prepare to break camp ! " 
 
 A wild cheer broke forth from the ranks that 
 swelled into a jubilant yell. 
 
 "Attention ! Keep silent ! By order of General 
 Sherman, issued November nth, General Thomas 
 is to withdraw his command to the north side of the 
 Kentucky River." 
 
 The men listened in mute astonishment. 
 
 Colonel Carter proceeded, 
 
 " As a Tennesseean I can understand your dis- 
 appointment at this order, which is also a surprise 
 and disappointment to me. General Sherman anti- 
 cipates a movement of the joint forces of ZoUicofFer 
 and Johnston. He believes that they intend to 
 join forces and penetrate between his two divisions, 
 attacking Lexington and Frankfort. We are there- 
 fore commanded to fall back to Camp Nelson." 
 
 Colonel Carter gave the message with evident 
 sorrow and chagrin. He did his best to explain the 
 matter to the credit of his superior officers, but the 
 explanation was lost upon his men. 
 
 Andrew Johnson was at the little tavern, and 
 came out to inquire the cause of the assembling of 
 the soldiers. 
 
 " Are you to advance ? " he asked anxiously. 
 
 " I am sorry to tell you. Senator, that we are to 
 fall back to Camp Nelson," said Colonel Carter. 
 
 " Fall back ! In the name of Heaven, what does 
 this mean ? " cried Johnson. 
 
I04 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " I am so ordered by General Thomas." 
 "And what is Thomas thinking of? " 
 " He has his orders from General Sherman." 
 " It is an outrage ! " cried Johnson. " It is in- 
 famous ! It is an order that should be disobeyed !" 
 " Senator Johnson, I must not allow you to speak 
 so in the presence of the soldiers. The order must 
 be obeyed." 
 
 " Colonel Carter, do you know that your people 
 and mine are suffering martyrdom in East Tennes- 
 see ? Do you know that all that is keeping them 
 alive is the hope of the coming of this army ? That 
 they strain their eyes to see it coming, and pray 
 God for it night and day ? Do you know that the 
 rebels are stricken with consternation at our approach 
 and our victory at Wild Cat ? Do you know that 
 the Union men, rejoicing in our approach, and 
 stimulated by our messages of encouragement, have 
 risen against their oppressors, and have put their 
 own necks in the halter for very joy of our coming, 
 and the desire to do something to co-operate with 
 US r 
 
 " I know all that. I myself am an East Ten- 
 nesseean." 
 
 " And do you mean to desert your own people 
 in this extremity ? Do you mean to turn your back 
 on them in their distresses, and leave them to be 
 imprisoned and hanged, when it is fully in our 
 power to fly to their relief.'' " 
 
 " Senator Johnson, I have no choice. I am 
 eager to press on. I believe that we could do it. 
 But I cannot go against the positive command of 
 my superior, and I must not allow you to speak so 
 
Retreat from a Vanquished Foe 105 
 
 in the presence of the soldiers, who already have all 
 that they can bear without mutiny." 
 
 " Bring me my horse ! " cried Johnson, and he 
 was soon riding post-haste to Crab Orchard. 
 
 " General Thomas, this is infamous ! " he cried. 
 
 " I cannot help it. Senator. I have sent word to 
 General Sherman that I am sure his fears are ground- 
 less, and that the messenger whom I sent would 
 hasten back with other orders, if he should see fit 
 to change them. He has not changed them, and 
 I must obey orders, and so must my men." 
 
 " It is slavery," cried Johnson. " And our people 
 are being ground down in tyranny, and we desert 
 them in their extremity ! " 
 
 " Senator Johnson," said Thomas, " the right of 
 free speech which is yours in the Senate, must not 
 here be exercised to the point of inciting the soldiers 
 to disobedience. Senator as you are, if you say 
 more, I will arrest you ! " 
 
 And Andrew Johnson bit his lip, and in sorrow 
 saw the order with equal sorrow obeyed. 
 
 General Sherman did his best in after years to 
 explain that strange command, with what success 
 must be judged by readers of his " Memoirs." -^ He 
 was overwrought and nervous, and a score of news- 
 papers declared that he was insane; and General 
 Halleck relieved him from duty, saying, " I am 
 satisfied that General Sherman's physical and men- 
 
 1 A part of Sherman's prejudice against East Tennessee must be attributed to 
 his just estimate of the difficulties of military operation there, but part also to his too 
 low estimate of its military importance. As late as December i, 1863, he wrote 
 to General Grant : " Recollect that East Tennessee is my horror. That any man 
 should send a force into East Tennessee puzzles me. Burnside is there and must be 
 relieved, but when relieved, I want to get out, and he should come out, too." 
 
io6 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 tal system is so completely broken by labor and 
 care as to render him, for the present, unfit for 
 duty." 
 
 General Sherman to the end of his life resented 
 the suggestion that his command had been an 
 unnatural one, or that his mental condition was 
 such as to prejudice sound military judgment. He 
 contended that Johnston and Zollicoffer might 
 have made the movement which he anticipated, and 
 he never could understand why they did not. The 
 reason probably was a very simple one, that they 
 had far more reason to fear Sherman than he had 
 to fear them, and the last place on earth where 
 Johnston or Zollicoffer would willingly have gone, 
 was between Sherman's two divisions. 
 
 For weeks the political leaders of East Tennessee 
 had been in Sherman's camp urging him to come 
 to the rescue of the loyal people of that region. 
 He stoutly declared, and repeated the mistake in 
 hi's book, that " the people of the whole South " 
 were "in rebellion"; that before he could be secure 
 in his present position, he must have sixty thousand 
 troops from the North, and that for any offensive 
 movement two hundred thousand would be needed. 
 He did not overestimate the magnitude of the 
 undertaking, but he reckoned without one important 
 item — the loyalty of the mountaineers. 
 
 Why should not the Armv of the Cumberland 
 have marched into Knoxville before the close of 
 1861 ? Zollicoffer might have been driven from 
 Kentucky within a month after the Wild Cat fight. 
 He might have been driven from Knoxville before 
 the winter set in. Knoxville cost us dear when 
 
Retreat from a Vanquished Foe 107 
 
 months afterward it fell into our hands. Alas for 
 the delay and loss of life that came from " assum- 
 ing the people of the whole South to be in rebel- 
 lion ! " One hundred and fifty thousand loyal 
 soldiers came from out the southern mountains 
 to disprove that assumption. 
 
 Whatever the answers from a military point of 
 view to the questions about that campaign, they 
 did not suggest themselves to the East Tennes- 
 seeans. Parson Brownlow wrote in 1862 : 
 
 " It has been a matter of surprise that our army 
 did not march upon East Tennessee long ago, 
 capture Knoxville, and take possession of that 
 great railroad. It was certainly owing to bad gen- 
 eralship in Kentucky." 
 
 Four days afterward General Sherman was re- 
 lieved, and General Buell arrived to take his place, 
 but the Tennessee troops were already back at 
 Crab Orchard. The roads were bad. The winter 
 was near, and General Buell, while discarding Gen- 
 eral Sherman's theory of danger from a Confed- 
 erate advance, held that East Tennessee was not 
 in itself worth taking ; that to justify an advance 
 into it there must be some ulterior point, which as 
 yet he had not force enough to attempt. And so 
 East Tennessee remained in the hands of the Con- 
 federates. 
 
IX 
 
 A Loyal Deserter 
 
 IT is impossible to describe the effect upon the 
 East Tennessee brigade of the order to retire 
 from the movement against the Gap. The 
 Confederates laughed long and loud over " the 
 Wild Cat stampede " ; but the men who had set 
 their hearts upon fighting under the old flag for the 
 redemption of their homes were filled with amaze- 
 ment and with shame. They pleaded, they pro- 
 tested, they cursed, they prayed, they even wept. 
 They threw down their guns and declared that they 
 would never move backward. But most of them 
 finally fell in as good soldiers, though they knew, or 
 thought they knew, " some one had blundered." 
 But here and there a stubborn soul stood out. 
 
 " I enlisted to fight, an' not to run," cried Joe 
 Hallet, " an' I hain't a-goin' to run, nuther." 
 
 " Ef I gotter run," said Lew Bailey, " I wanter 
 run from some one that's a-lickin' me, not from 
 some one I'm a-lickin'. I wanter fight an' let the 
 rebs do the runnin'. I'll be durned ef I'll do both." 
 
 " Who's Sherman, anyhow ? " demanded Sim 
 Galloway. 
 
 " He's a fool, whoever he is ! " said another. 
 "Why don't they let Pap Thomas run this thing? 
 He knows what's what." 
 
 Jack Casey sorrowfully prepared to march. His 
 
 io8 
 
A Loyal Deserter 109 
 
 cheeks were red with anger, and his head hung for 
 shame. The tears dropped from his eyes as he 
 thought of his mother and her defenceless position. 
 Then there were Henry and his father, in prison, 
 probably, by this time, and to be hanged, as likely 
 as not. And the army that should be flying to 
 their rescue was turning its back upon them there 
 upon the gallows for their country's sake. He 
 could not, he would not. It was not for this that 
 he had enlisted. It was not for this that he would 
 stay. He would go back to Tennessee and share 
 the fate of his people. He would go back and de- 
 fend his mother. He would go back and help to 
 rescue Henry and his father. He would go back 
 and die, if need be, but he would not run from the 
 face of a beaten foe. 
 
 He packed his knapsack and filled his haversack 
 with food. He gathered his simple belongings to- 
 gether and rolled up his blanket. Then he took 
 Cub by the hand, and started toward the wagons 
 that were loading for the march ; but he did not go 
 to them. Starting off at an angle where the road 
 forks beyond London, he turned into the forest 
 toward the east. He set Cub on his knapsack with 
 legs astride his neck, and walked as rapidly as he 
 could away from the town and camp. An idea had 
 come to him. He could not take Cub all the way 
 back to Tennessee, as matters were at present, but 
 he was within reach of Roundstone. He would 
 make his way slowly there, and leave Cub with 
 Henry's kinsfolks, and then go on unhindered, into 
 Tennessee, and return sometime, — he no longer had 
 the heart to think when it might be, when Tennes- 
 
no A Hero in Homespun 
 
 see was free again, — and take Cub home. He can 
 hardly be said to have felt guilty over his desertion. 
 To him it seemed that the army had deserted, and 
 that he was still in the fight. He felt a mingled 
 sense of shame and sorrow ; but it was not because 
 he felt condemned for his own conduct. 
 
 Jack made slow progress with Cub, who some- 
 times toddled along beside him and then had to be 
 " packed." They stopped two or three times at 
 houses and got a cup of milk for Cub, but the 
 people looked so curiously at Jack's uniform and at 
 Cub, and asked so many questions, — kind ones, to 
 be sure, for they were almost all loyal people, but 
 questions that he did not like to meet, — that he 
 began avoiding the houses and going through the 
 woods to escape them. For, proud as he was in 
 having a greater loyalty than the army which had 
 deserted him, he began to find that he could take 
 little pleasure in having it known that he had run 
 away from the army. Such freaks does conscience 
 play, justifying us to ourselves, and condemning us 
 when we stand before others ; and then, on the 
 other hand, pleading our case when others accuse 
 us, and 'unmercifully chastising us when it has us 
 alone at its mercy ! 
 
 It took him two long days to walk to Tigertail, 
 which lies across the mountain from Roundstone. 
 During those two days he struggled with his own 
 conflicting feelings, yet ever justified himself to him- 
 self, but with a feeling of shame for the army which 
 he had deserted. 
 
 Little Cub grew tired and often pleaded to be 
 allowed to stop, but Jack pressed on. Now and then 
 
A Loyal Deserter 1 1 1 
 
 he sat down and played with Cub and told him sto- 
 ries to rest him ; and once a day, just after their 
 noon meal, he spread out his blanket for a couch 
 and let Cub take a nap. On the second night they 
 slept on a thick bed of autumn leaves under the 
 shadow of Torkletop Mountain, where the road 
 winds through the Oxyoke Gap between Torkletop 
 and Baldy, into the Roundstone valley. On the 
 morning of the third day they emptied the haver- 
 sack and climbed the winding road, and soon stood 
 between the two great mountains that guard the 
 approach to the valley, and looked down into the 
 oval basin of the Roundstone, 
 
 Of all lovely valleys, Roundstone is the most 
 charming. It is more than beautiful : it has an 
 influence that is almost magic. The people of 
 Roundstone would tell you so, and they are not 
 given to sentiment. They would not know how to 
 express it, but it is hardly too much to say that the 
 whole community felt in a way that the creek was a 
 sort of mirror of the life of the Holler. Not a few 
 of its inhabitants have sat by one of the numerous 
 springs which are its source, and wondered vaguely 
 about the origin of life. They have followed its 
 almost aimless wanderings through the valley, where 
 it runs swift and shallow over the stones, and still 
 and deep beneath the overarching beeches, and ques- 
 tioned whether the meaning of life is to be found in 
 a mere search for the level which it finds in human 
 relations. And they have stood by the Sinks, where 
 the stream disappears, and wondered what follows 
 when life seems to end, and what is the mystery of 
 that unexplored cavern into which its waters are 
 
112 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 ceaselessly flowing, and where and what is the land 
 where they emerge into sunshine again. 
 
 No one ever entered Roundstone through Oxyoke 
 Gap without feeling something of the spell of the 
 valley, which locally is known as The Holler. 
 Jack Casey felt it as he entered the Gap that 
 autumn morning in '6i. 
 
 It was a clear November day. The air was keen 
 and bracing and the sun was warm. It seemed like 
 Indian summer in the valley and like the first pinch 
 of winter on the hills. There was thin ice on the 
 surface of Roundstone where it ran still, and the 
 frost stayed all day on the north slope of the moun- 
 tains. There had been no recent rain and no snow 
 in the valley or on the lower hills, but Torkletop 
 was white above the Gap, and Old Baldy stood up, 
 magnificent in his antiquity, and lifted his hoary 
 head with its crown of glory above the surrounding 
 mountains, and extended his shadowy sceptre over 
 the valley, of which he had been for unnumbered 
 centuries the undisputed monarch. 
 
 Here and there Jack could see the smoke from a 
 cabin, and almost directly across the Holler, a little 
 to the south, stood one of the larger houses of the 
 settlement. He moved down toward it, passing 
 other houses, at which he inquired, and found that 
 the house which he had seen from the Gap was that 
 of Jacob Hanson's cousin, John Whitley. The sun 
 was at its height as he crossed the foot-log over 
 Roundstone and entered the yard. 
 
 A bright-haired, brown-eyed girl was spinning 
 in the porch as he drew near. She started at 
 sight of him dressed in blue and carrying a 
 
A Loyal Deserter 113 
 
 gun, but invited him to enter the porch and sit 
 down. 
 
 There is many a skilful device of Cupid to set 
 forth the charm of woman in the sight of man, 
 but nothing which he has ever done can compare 
 with that which he accomplished for the display of 
 a woman's grace and beauty in the gentle art of spin- 
 ning. The man who can see a pretty girl, devoid 
 of self-consciousness, and with the freedom of a 
 native grace, twirling the wheel and drawing out 
 the thread, steady of hand and keen of eye, pois- 
 ing while it twists, advancing while it winds, and 
 stepping backward while she draws another thread, 
 — the man who can see all this, and watch the dis- 
 play of every curve and feature, the change of ex- 
 pression in face and eye, the poise of foot, the grace 
 of ankle and the turn of hand, and not fall in love 
 at first sight, is either hopelessly in love already or 
 deserves never to be. And if Mr. Andrew Jackson 
 Casey had not already been in love with her, he would 
 have begun to love Jennie Whitley the moment he 
 saw her in the porch that lovely November day. 
 
 And, if there be a thing which Cupid loves as a 
 snare for the heart of a woman, it is a military uni- 
 form and the bearing of a soldier. Jennie Whitley, 
 who already knew and respected Jackson Casey, did 
 not regard him with diminished interest when she 
 saw him before her dressed as a soldier. 
 
 "Howdy," she said. "I'm right glad to see 
 you. Come into the porch an' se' down." 
 
 " Thank ye," said Jack. " I'm proud to see you." 
 
 " You're a sojer now, be you ? So's my three 
 brothers." 
 
114 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " Yes, I know. I met 'em in Estill an' went to 
 Camp Nelson with 'em." 
 
 " Is that so ? I'm right glad to hear it. Seen 
 'em lately ? " 
 
 " Not sence jes' atter the Wild Cat fight. You 
 heerd about that ? " 
 
 " Yes. Our boys was in it." 
 
 " Yes ; they fit well." 
 
 " An' you holped whip ZoUicofFer ? " 
 
 " I reckon mebby I holped a little mite." 
 
 " What little boy's that you got there ? " 
 
 " He's a little feller we fiaund. Hank an' I sorter 
 took him. Hank's gone back to Tennessy as a 
 messenger." 
 
 " Is Hank a good sojer? " 
 
 " They hain't none better. He's as good's they 
 grow. Where's your pa ? " 
 
 " He went to the store for the news. He goes 
 every mail day now. 'Pears like he can't wait for 
 news from the war." 
 
 " I reckon they's a heap more like him all over 
 Kaintuck an' East Tennessy." 
 
 " You'll stop to dinner. Pa'll be here right soon. 
 Won't you take the little boy to the spring an' 
 wash his face an' git him ready for dinner? Or, 
 hold on ! — I'll git some water." 
 
 She brought him water and a clean towel, and 
 Cub submitted, not without protest, to having his 
 face and hands washed. Then Jack washed his 
 own, and combed his hair in the porch before a small 
 glass which Jennie brought him. 
 
 " I hain't shaved sence I left camp," said he, 
 viewing his face in the glass and suddenly conscious 
 
A Loyal Deserter 115 
 
 of a desire to look his best. " D'ye reckon I could 
 have some hot water ? " 
 
 She hastened to bring it, and he shaved himself 
 in the porch while she went to the kitchen, where 
 the dinner was already cooking. 
 
 Jack had completed his toilet, and looked and 
 felt " better, two to one," as he expressed it, when 
 John returned from the store. John was sorrowful 
 and angry. He had heard of the retreat from 
 London and the sorrow of the troops at the retro- 
 grade movement. It was not now at all certain that 
 the whole mountain region would not be overrun. 
 Roundstone, from its isolation, was relatively se- 
 cure, but whatever the rebels wanted in the moun- 
 tains was now at their disposal. 
 
 He quickened his steps when he saw a soldier in 
 his porch. His first thought was that it might be 
 one of his own sons returned from the army. 
 
 " Howdy, stranger, an' welcome ! Sojer, I see." 
 " Yes. Is this Mr. Whitley ? " 
 " That's my name. What's your'n ? " 
 " Andrew Jackson Casey. I'm from East Ten- 
 nessy. I've met your boys. I'm a neighbor of 
 Jacob Hanson, an' a friend of his boy Henry. 
 He's a sorter cousin o' yours, hain't he?" 
 
 " Yes ; he's fust cousin. His mammy an' mine 
 was sisters. I'm right glad to see a friend o' Jake's. 
 Is Jake in the fight ? " 
 
 " No ; he couldn't git away right easy, but his 
 boy Hank an' I slipped through the Gap an' 'listed 
 together." 
 
 " I wisht you'd a-brought him with you. I hain't 
 seed him sence he was a chap." 
 
ii6 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " He's back home now, detailed for messenger 
 service." 
 
 " Be you on messenger service, too ? " 
 
 " No, Mr. Whitley, I hain't. I wanter tell you 
 all about it. I was in the Wild Cat fight. I was 
 behind the fence with the other fellers when the 
 rebs come up the hill, the front row with their hats 
 on their bayonets till they got right clost, an' then 
 they give a yell like all git out, an' come a-tearin' 
 up the slope. We fired too high at first, them 
 a-comin' up the hill an' we sorter excited like, but 
 we didn't run an' they didn't stop. They kep' 
 a-comin' an' a-comin', but we druv them back. 
 Then 'long early in the evenin', 'bout two o'clock, 
 they started fur us agin, an' agin we druv them 
 back. We had kep' the top o' the mountin, an' 
 we went over an' took the slope. They fit hard, 
 but we met 'em face to face. Their guns was 
 mighty pore an' so was our'n, — big, loud guns that 
 take two thimbles full o' powder, an' a load big 
 round as your thumb, — there's my gun! — an' 
 three fingers deep in the bar'l, an' makes a noise 
 when they go off loud enough to wake the dead, 
 and kick like a steer, but they hain't much good, 
 nohow. But we clubbed 'em back with the breech. 
 We stobbed 'em with the bayonet. An' finally they 
 jes' hadter run." 
 
 " I heerd about it," said John, excitedly. " I 
 heerd how you alls licked 'em. But what's this 
 about retreatin' ? " 
 
 " I'm plumb shamefaced to tell about that. They's 
 some mighty quare notions gits in the heads o' them 
 officers. Thomas is all right, an' Garrard is all 
 
A Loyal Deserter 117 
 
 right, an' Carter is a hoss ! But Anderson got sick 
 an' had to git out o' the command at Louisville, an' 
 Buell, they say, is goin' to take command; but he 
 hain't come yit, an' while they're a-waitin', they give 
 the command to Sherman. He come down to Camp 
 Nelson while we was there an' made a long-winded 
 speech to us. Thomas got mad an' left while he 
 was a-talkin'. When he got done, the fellers begun 
 a-yellin' fur Thomas to speak, but he swore he 
 wouldn't do it." 
 
 " Thomas don't make no speeches, does he ? " 
 " I reckon not, but he kin fight." 
 " How did the sojers like goin' back ? " 
 " They hated it wus'n pizen. They swore they 
 wouldn't do it, an' some on 'em didn't, but a heap 
 on 'em did." 
 
 " Is that why you lef ' ? " 
 
 " Yes, I was jes' a-goin' to tell ye. I hate like sin 
 to tell that I run away from the army, but it was 
 thisaway. I lef ma to home all alone. The rebs 
 is rantankerous all around, an' I had to hide out for 
 three weeks afore I left. I sorter had an /dy that 
 when we got into the army, we'd come marchin' 
 back through the Gap, an' give the rebels Hail 
 Columby. I hadn't no idy we'd enhsted to run. 
 Well, just afore we got the order to go back, we'd 
 got news from Tennessy about the Union men git- 
 tin' out their guns, an' the women a-makin' flags, an' 
 all a-gittin' ready to welcome us an' help us drive 
 out the rebs, an' how the Union men had burned 
 the bridges, an' we's all fired up, an' ready to start, 
 an' then come this news that Thomas had had a 
 fool order to call us back. I thought o' mother. 
 
ii8 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 down thar alone. I thought o' Henry an' his pa, 
 that had a sheer in the bridge-burnin', an' like as 
 not in jail, an' goin' to be hanged, sure. I thought 
 o' leavin' them all thar, an' runnin' like cowards 
 when we'd jes' licked, an' I couldn't stan' it ! I 
 jes' packed up, an' says I, 'They kin go back ef 
 they wanter, but I'm a-goin' back the other way. 
 Ef I can't fight fur East Tennessy in the army, I'll 
 go back an' fight thar outen it.' " 
 
 " I don' blame ye a mite ! Nary mite ! " cried 
 John. " Did ye say Jake an' Henry is in jail ? " 
 
 " Not as I knowed on. But the word was that 
 they had a sheer in the burnin', an' the rebs was 
 a-huntin' on 'em down." 
 
 " I'm afeard they'll git 'em. Looky here." 
 
 He took from his pocket the current issue of 
 the Memphis Appeal^ and pointed to an ad- 
 vertisement headed " Bloodhounds Wanted," 
 signed by two Confederate officers at Camp Crin- 
 forth. The advertisement stated that the hounds 
 were wanted " to chase the infernal, cowardly 
 Lincoln bushwhackers in East Tennessee and 
 Kentucky." 
 
 " That makes my blood bile ! " said Whitley. 
 " Hain't it enough for them dirty slave-catchers to 
 hunt niggers with hounds ? Hev they come to 
 that, that they must hunt white men, too ? An' is 
 the Gov'maint at Washington goin' to stand oiF an' 
 see us et up by bloodhounds, an' call back their 
 sojers when they're winnin' hand over fist ? I don' 
 blame ye a mite for desertin' ! Go back an' fight fur 
 your home ! Go back an' die like a man, defendin' 
 your old mother, ef ye hatter die, but don't leave 
 
A Loyal Deserter 119 
 
 her thar alone at the mercy of the bloodhounds, an' 
 run away ! " 
 
 " That's what I allow to do," said Jack. " An' 
 there's somethin' I'd like ter ast you about. Here's 
 this little feller, — Cub, we call him. He's a mighty 
 pert little feller. He's a orphan, and we got him 
 outen a burnin' cabin, whar the pappy was dead an' 
 the rebs had murdered his mammy an' sot the 
 house afire. I can't travel right easy an' pack him, 
 an' I hain't no sorter chance to keer for him jes' 
 now. I didn't wanter leave him with the army. 
 The fellers would a liked mighty well to have him, 
 I know, but he sorter belongs to me and Henry 
 together, I wonder ef you kin keep him here till 
 the war is over, an' I'll come an' git him, ef I live." 
 
 "We'll sorter hatter talk that over with Jennie. 
 She's boss inside the house. She's all I got now. 
 The three boys has all gone off, an' Jennie's the 
 only one that's leP. Her ma died three year ago 
 come spring, an' she's ben my housekeeper ever 
 sence. She's a-callin' on us now to dinner. Less 
 go in. Yes, we're a-comin', Jen ! Here, young 
 feller, come to yer granpap. Law, hit don' seem 
 but yistiddy I had shavers o' my own no bigger'n 
 him ! An' now they're all growed up an' gone to 
 the war. They hain't nothin' grows so fast as chil- 
 dern. You'll be a sojer, too, one o' these days, 
 won't ye, young feller ? " 
 
 " I's a sojer now ! " cried Cub. 
 
 "Shore 'nufF! I reckon ye be. Wut be ye, a 
 cap'n or a cun'l ? " 
 
 " He's a gin'ral, you'd think to hear him order 
 the fellers 'round. Here, Cub, set up on my 
 
I20 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 shoulder, like I was a hoss, an' show how you 
 give orders ! " 
 
 Cub mounted Jack's back and rode up and down 
 the porch, giving orders and carrying off the honors 
 with eclat^ while John applauded and Jennie watched 
 with interest, standing in the doorway. 
 
 "You best come in now," she said; " yer din- 
 ner'll be gittin' cold. Here, little man, you take 
 this cheer beside yer pa, — beside Mr. Casey." 
 
 " Here, young feller," said Whitley, " you git up 
 on this cheer ! I'll turn hit 'round, so. Now you 
 Stan' up on the cheer, an' hole on with one hand to 
 the back, an' retch with the t'other fur wut ye 
 want. An' ef ye don' find wut ye want within 
 retch, jes' ast granpap, an' you'll git it." 
 
 He paused a moment, hesitating whether to in- 
 vite Jack to ask a blessing. His blue suit gave 
 him a dignity that made it seem a proper thing ; 
 but he remembered his youth, and asked the bless- 
 ing himself. 
 
 Cub got on finely at the table. His position was 
 that which had been approved in the Holler for 
 long generations. High chairs are unknown, and 
 the rising generation stands on a chair at table and 
 eats with one hand, while holding to the back of the 
 chair with the other. 
 
 After dinner, Cub took his daily siesta, while 
 Jennie washed the dishes, and he was still asleep 
 when she joined her father and Jack in the porch. 
 
 " Leave off yer spinnin' fur a while, Jennie, an' 
 fetch a cheer an' set with us. We're a-talkin' 
 'bout somethin' you'll want a finger in." 
 
 Jennie brought the chair, and walked with it past 
 
A Loyal Deserter 121 
 
 Jack and her father, at no small inconvenience, and 
 wholly without necessity, as it seemed to Jack, so as 
 to sit beside her father. But that may not have 
 indicated that she would not have been glad to sit 
 beside Jack. 
 
 "Jennie, Mr. Casey's ben a-tellin' me about his 
 plans an' what he intends to do. He's gotter go 
 back inter Tennessy, an' hit tain't sartin how things 
 is goin' to be down than This little feller is a 
 orfling what he an' Henry picked up outen a burnin' 
 cabin, an' they 'lowed atween 'em to keep him. 
 But he cyan't tote him down to Tennessy, and he 
 wants to know ef we'll sorter look atter him till the 
 war is over. I told him that depends on you. I 
 hatter do jes' what you say, ye know, an' some- 
 times hatter toe the crack mighty clost. But I 
 'lowed ef you didn't see no objection, we'd mebby 
 try it. That's a right pert little chap." 
 
 " I don't see no reason why not," said Jennie. 
 " He's a mighty fine little feller." 
 
 " Right smartly so. He's a major, sure's you're 
 a foot high. Ye don't reckon you'd have no 
 trouble takin' keer on him, do ye, Jen ? " 
 
 " I don't guess it would be much trouble," said 
 Jennie ; " an' I git right lonesome sometimes when 
 you're gone, now the boys is away." 
 
 " An' I git sorter lonesome myself thinkin' on 
 'em. 'Pears lack now they're gone, I think on 'em 
 more as they was when they was little. I don't 
 har'ly seem to r&alize that they're men. I reckon 
 this leetle feller'd be comp'ny fur us both. All 
 right, Mr. Casey, we'll keep him!" 
 
 " Thank ye, Mr. Whitley. I 'lowed you'd do it. 
 
122 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 Now I'll stay over night ef I kin an' hev a leetle 
 more of a visit with Cub, an' then I'll sorter slip 
 off 'fore sunup in the mornin', an' you kin say 
 good-by to him fur me atter I gone, so's he won't 
 take on, an' I'll git over inter Tennessy." 
 
 It seemed a short afternoon and a short night. 
 Jack stole a little chance to talk with Jennie alone 
 about Cub, enlarging on his precocity, which, if the 
 regiment was at all to be believed, was phenomenal, 
 and tenderly committing him to her care. With 
 the sunrise he was off. John Whitley took him on 
 his way as far as the salt works on Goose Creek, 
 and bade him an affectionate farewell. 
 
 " Good-bv," he said. "'Pears lack I'm sendin' 
 off another boy. You favor my boys a heap. I'll 
 look out for Cub, or Jen will. Do yer duty, an' 
 God bless ye ! " 
 
X 
 
 Sunday at Sevierville 
 
 IT was a pleasant November Sunday when Par- 
 son Brownlow preached at Sevierville. The 
 news of his appointment had spread far and 
 wide, and would have drawn a large congrega- 
 tion at any time ; but just now it was a matter 
 of especial and widespread interest. The news of 
 the bridge-burning, which had occurred on the 
 Friday night before, was widely known, and added 
 to the excitement. Whether Parson Brownlow had 
 a share in it was not known ; but many had read 
 with a thrill an editorial in the Whig^ remembered 
 now with equal clearness by his friends and enemies, 
 in which he had said, 
 
 " Let the railroads on which Union citizens of 
 East Tennessee are conveyed to Montgomery in 
 irons be eternally and hopelessly destroyed ! Let 
 the property of the men concerned be consumed, 
 and let their lives pay the forfeit, and the names 
 will be given ! " 
 
 With Brownlow, was old Parson James Cum- 
 mings, who first spoke. He was eighty-five years 
 old and his white hair hung about his neck, but he 
 was erect and had a martial bearing, and his spirit 
 was strong and inflexible. He said : 
 
 " My brethren and sisters, my sands of life are 
 nearly run. I am an old man, and my sun is near 
 
 1Z3 
 
124 ^ Hero in Homespun 
 
 its setting. For forty years I have been a preacher 
 of the Gospel, and I have borne among you an 
 unblemished reputation for honesty and for sin- 
 cerity. I fought in two campaigns under Andrew- 
 Jackson for this country, — for the whole country, 
 not a part of it, — and I was a major in the War 
 of 1 812. I have defended this country against the 
 British and against the savages. I have lived its 
 entire history. I was born in the year that our 
 country came to life. I want to live to see it re- 
 united and happy. I am driven from my home 
 for no crime, but because I am an outspoken friend 
 of the Union. I do not falter. I do not fear. I 
 am encouraged to firmness when I look back to 
 him, against whom the mob cried, ' Crucify him ! ' 
 but whose power was righteousness, and who came 
 into the world to bear witness to the truth. O 
 brethren, be strong in the Lord ! Put on the whole 
 armor of God. Take the sword of the Lord and of 
 Gideon, and be ready when the hour shall strike to 
 drive from your midst the invader and the spoiler ! 
 And pray for God's blessing on our hearts and our 
 homes, on our glorious old rock-ribbed mountain 
 loyalty, and on what is to be our fair and reunited 
 country ! " 
 
 There was perfect silence in the great congrega- 
 tion gathered from a radius of many miles, when 
 Parson Brownlow rose to speak. He stood, tall 
 and dark, smooth shaven, and with shaggy hair and 
 brows, and began to speak in measured tones that soon 
 rose in their key, and gathered power and volume 
 till his tempestuous eloquence swayed the audience 
 as a field of corn is swayed by the wind. Said he : 
 
Sunday at Sevierville 125 
 
 " My friends, I am glad to be here and speak to 
 you to-day. I have left behind me my home and 
 my business, and am a fugitive for the sake of my 
 loyalty to our common country. I have not taken 
 arms against the Southern Confederacy. I have 
 committed no violence, but I have opposed with 
 voice and pen the infamy of this treasonable at- 
 tempt to break up this country, and for this I am 
 driven from my home. 
 
 " My friends, I am glad to speak in Sevierville. 
 It is a glorious name. It brings to our minds the 
 days of the Revolution, wherT our fathers fought and 
 won the battle of King's Mountain, glorious as that 
 of Bunker Hill, the clans of these highlands gather- 
 ing each under its own chieftain and winning a glo- 
 rious victory. Among the leaders that day who were 
 foremost in the fight, the one to whose genius more 
 than to that of any other man the honor of the vic- 
 tory belongs, was John Sevier. This town may well 
 be proud of its name. 
 
 " It was John Sevier who laid in these mountains 
 the foundations of this glorious old commonwealth 
 of East Tennessee. For we are a commonwealth 
 by ourselves, my friends, in history, in politics, 
 and all that distinguishes our public life. There is 
 a line of separation that runs through Tennessee 
 from north to south, and it follows the line of these 
 mountains. It is in East Tennessee, where John 
 Sevier established his commonwealth, which he 
 named the State of Franklin in honor of the 
 man who drafted the Declaration of Independence, 
 that those principles are held dearest. That State 
 has passed into oblivion ; but the principles which 
 
126 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 it honored — the principles of the Declaration of 
 Independence, the principles of the Revolution, the 
 principles of Benjamin Franklin and of John Sevier 
 — abide in our hearts to this day. 
 
 " My friends, we have fallen upon an evil time. 
 East Tennessee has been voted out of the Union 
 against her will and against her protest. Let me 
 remind you of the way in which this glorious old 
 commonwealth has been voted out of the Union 
 through the fraud and villany of the Governor, 
 Isham G. Harris."^ Mr. Brownlow pronounced 
 the name so as to bring a scornful emphasis upon 
 the " sham," and went on at length concerning the 
 elections of February and June. 
 
 " By such fraud and villany," he went on, " was 
 this State carried over to the Confederacy, and East 
 Tennessee with it, though even in that election, 
 with thousands of illegal votes, with hundreds of 
 timid men kept from the polls. East Tennessee 
 protested against separation from the Union by a 
 clear majority of 18,300! Glorious East Tennes- 
 see ! She still stands unterrified and uncorrupted, 
 five to one, for the Union and the flag ! 
 
 " Now, my friends, what are we to do ? We are 
 taken out of the Union against our voice and vote. 
 
 1 Governor, afterward Senator, Isham G. Harris, died in July, 1897, while 
 this chapter was in the hands of the printer. Extreme as were the measures 
 by which he carried Tennessee out of the Union, and severe as were Brownlow' s 
 strictures upon him, even Brownlow had later abundant proof of his honest)'. 
 When the Union forces occupied Nashville, Harris went south with the Confeder- 
 ate army, serving on the staff of General A. S. Johnston. He took with him the 
 State school fund, amounting to half a million, and was himself counted a wealthy 
 man. He returned at the close of the war, when Brownlow was Governor, and, 
 though reduced to poverty by the war, had preserved the school fund intact, and 
 turned it over to the Brownlow government. 
 
Sunday at Sevierville 127 
 
 We have had neither part nor lot in this infamy. 
 We have seen our fields plundered, our neighbors 
 conscripted, our brothers and sons driven to hiding 
 in the woods, our polls corrupted, our leaders im- 
 prisoned. Wrongs less wanton and outrageous 
 precipitated the French Revolution ! Think of it ! 
 Citizens cast into dungeons without charges of 
 crimes against them, and without the formality of 
 trial by jury ! Private property confiscated at the 
 beck of those in power ! The press humbled, muz- 
 zled, and suppressed, or prostituted to serve the 
 ends of tyranny ! The crimes of Louis XVI. fell 
 short of all this, and yet he lost his head ! The 
 people of this country, down-trodden and oppressed, 
 still cherish unshaken the spirit of their illustrious 
 forefathers, — of Lee and Pickens and Sumter, of 
 Jasper and Sevier ! 
 
 " Friends, I may never speak to you again. 
 With me, life has lost something of its energy. 
 I have passed six annual posts on the western slope 
 of half a century. Something of the fire of youth 
 is exhausted. I have a bronchial trouble which may 
 not long endure the exposure and the hardship to 
 which I am now subjected. This may be the last 
 time my voice reaches you before I die, — perhaps 
 upon the scaffold, basely charged with treason. But 
 if I were standing now upon the gallows, I would 
 speak no other words than these, bearing my testi- 
 mony against this monstrous rebellion, and calling 
 upon you to be true to your record, to your an- 
 cestry, to your country and your God. If I am 
 charged, as I have often been, with inciting you to 
 insurrection, I reply that I am rather inspiring you 
 
128 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 to deeds of patriotism. If I could, I would ' stir 
 the stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.' If I 
 should hold my peace to-day, these rocks upon 
 your loyal mountains would cry out their horror 
 of the crimes to which we are submitted and their 
 call to resistance. 
 
 " The Union army will soon be here. Be ready 
 to meet it. Be ready with your weapons and your 
 strong right arms. Be ready with your flags and 
 your loyal voices. And when the boys in blue come 
 marching through Cumberland Gap and through the 
 mountain passes to your own fair land, from every 
 hearthstone and fireside, from every schoolhouse 
 and from every church, let this long shout go up 
 to heaven. East Tennessee has been loyal to the 
 Union, and will be, now and evermore ! " 
 
 During the latter part of his address, Brownlow 
 drew himself to the full height of his six feet. His 
 face that was dark and hard seemed almost trans- 
 figured, and his voice that at first was slow and 
 somewhat broken was like the sound of thunder. 
 It was Sunday, and a religious service, but a long, 
 loud shout arose and the mountains echoed it back 
 again. 
 
 As Parson Brownlow ceased speaking, and before 
 Parson W. I. Dowell, who was to have followed, 
 began, there was a commotion in the back part of 
 the congregation. A woman, who had been riding 
 hard, entered hastily, and called for Parson Brownlow. 
 
 " Parson," she said, " you must run for yer life. 
 The cavalry are after you. They're huntin' ye 
 with orders to shoot ye without mercy. They 
 know you're here. Hurry!" 
 
Mrs. Casey's Warning to Parson Brownlow. Page 128. 
 
Sunday at Sevierville 129 
 
 Having delivered her message, Elizabeth hurried 
 away. She went to her horse, and was mounting, 
 when the people came to her, and insisted that she 
 should rest before returning. She went to a house, 
 and received the generous hospitality of the people. 
 At night she remounted and took her long way back 
 to her home. 
 
 Before they left, both Brownlow and Cummings 
 denied in the strongest language knowing anything 
 about the conspiracy to burn the bridges. Brown- 
 low declared that the false charges were knowingly 
 made as a pretext for their murder. 
 
 "Let them kill me," he cried, "and this noble 
 old man of God, who is also the victim of their 
 malice ! Let them shoot us down like dogs, or 
 hang us on their accursed gallows ! We can die, if 
 need be 1 But our death will have a terrible retri- 
 bution. The Union soldiers will avenge us seven- 
 fold. The thousands of Union men in East 
 Tennessee, devoted to principle and the rights of 
 those who fall at the hands of these conspirators, 
 will avenge their death ! Let the fires be rekindled 
 on the Union altars, and let the fire of the Lord 
 consume these conspirators as it consumed Nadab 
 and Abihu for presumption less sacrilegious ! If we 
 are incarcerated at Montgomery, or Tuscaloosa, or 
 murdered for love of the Union, then let our 
 friends and the friends of the Union take vengeance 
 upon our murderers in the name of the God to 
 whom vengeance belongeth ! Let it be done. East 
 Tennesseeans, though the gates of hell be forced, 
 and the heavens be made to fall ! " 
 
 Sevier County had voted on the question of sepa- 
 
130 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 ration from the Union in the preceding June, and 
 against a scattering vote that aggregated 60 for dis- 
 union, had polled 1528 for the Union. Brownlow 
 knew full well that he was in the hands of his 
 friends. He received the most abundant evidence 
 of the support of the people to whom he spoke, 
 and was hurried away with Cummings and Dowell 
 to the remotest corner of the county, where he 
 hid from the search that was diligently made for 
 him. 
 
 Brownlow had other and later warnings. On 
 Sunday night, William Rule,i a printer in the office 
 of the Whig^ left Knoxville by stealth, and rode, at 
 the risk of his life, to warn Brownlow to escape. 
 He found him on Monday, safe and undismayed, 
 in Tuskaleechee Cove, in the Smoky Mountains. 
 
 Elizabeth Casey returned to her home on Sunday 
 night, leaving the horse at Steph's as she went. 
 
 " Git home an' to bed to wunct," said Steph. 
 " The rebs is all round. They've caught Haun. 
 They got wind o' Hensie an' Fry. Jake an' Hank 
 has run to-wards Sevier. They got acrost the river 
 somehow," — Steph coughed a little, — "I dunno 
 jes' how. But they're gone. Hit's lucky they 
 didn't no man go your errand. An' you bes' be 
 at home tendin' to yer own business right pert, 
 if they call. I'm doin' more'n wut a rebel sym- 
 pathizer ort to do, I'm afeared, but I got too tender 
 a conscience. That's the cause o' the mos' o' my 
 shortcomin's. Now, you git home." 
 
 1 Later a captain in the Union army, and now editor of the Knoxville yournal, 
 successor of the IFbi^. 
 
XI 
 
 Exile and Prison 
 
 FAR back among the Great Smoky Mountains, 
 close to the line that separates East Tennessee 
 from North Carolina, is Tuskaleechee Cove. 
 There, in a deep gorge which no wheeled 
 vehicle had ever entered, a group of men gathered 
 about a fire one day in November, in 1861. 
 
 Jacob Hanson raked the ashes from the top of 
 some sweet potatoes, and tested them with a wooden 
 fork, A dozen men watched the operation with 
 interest. 
 
 " Done ? " 
 
 " Jes' right." 
 
 " How's the meat ? " The question was addressed 
 to a member of the legislature, who was broiling a 
 piece of meat hard by. 
 
 " It'll do, I reckon." 
 
 " It's a mighty good thing we got that bear," said 
 Judge Green. " They'd have had a hard time 
 getting enough provisions from Wear's Cove for us, 
 and the men below, too." 
 
 " He's tasted mighty good, I know that," replied 
 Parson Cummings. 
 
 " Parson, ask a blessing." 
 
 Parson Brownlow raised his hands, and gave 
 thanks for the bear meat and sweet potatoes which 
 constituted their meal. 
 
 131 
 
132 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 There were a dozen or more of them, all told, 
 men of prominence, for the most part, and men 
 exposed to special danger, either from outspoken 
 patriotism, or from some overt act of resistance to 
 the Confederate rule. 
 
 " This is getting mighty tedious," said one. " I 
 don't like hiding out here like a pack o' ground- 
 hogs, with the men below a-guarding us like we 
 was prisoners. I'd like to muster 'em all into a 
 company, and go and meet the Union army." 
 
 " The Union army will be here soon," said 
 Brownlow. " We shall see the end of the Con- 
 federacy in a few months. I expect to see it before 
 I am a year older." 
 
 " A year ! We can never stand another year of 
 this ! " 
 
 " Oh, we won't have to stand it a year ! It may 
 be a year before the rebellion is fully put down ; 
 but East Tennessee will be liberated in a few 
 weeks." 
 
 " I hope so. This is the last of the bear, and we 
 may not get another right off." 
 
 " Oh, well, we can get a coon now and then ; and 
 'possums are mighty fat just now." 
 
 " We won't have many more sweet taters to eat 
 with 'em." 
 
 " I'm 'fraid your right; and 'possums ain't much 
 good without sweet taters. Is there ary sweet tater 
 left in them ashes ? " 
 
 " Just one more. Judge. You kin divide it with 
 the parson there." 
 
 " Thank you. Judge. The law ought to divide 
 with the Gospel." 
 
Exile and Prison 
 
 ^33 
 
 " Who comes yander ? " 
 
 " Somebody in blue. They've sent him up from 
 below with news, I reckon. He ain't none of our 
 men. The sojers mus' be comin' ! " 
 
 " Hit's Jack Casey, as I'm a livin' man ! " cried 
 Henry. "Jack, hallo ! Hello, Jack ! " 
 
 " Hello, Hank ! " called Jack, and quickened his 
 ascent of the rugged and uncertain path that brought 
 him to the fastness. 
 
 " Hand up yer gun. Give us yer hand an' I'll 
 give ye a lift." 
 
 " Take the gun. I don't want no help. I kin 
 git up," and Jack came clambering up the rocks. 
 
 "Ben eatin', hev ye ? Got anything left ? " 
 
 " Mighty little. Hungry ? " 
 
 " Hungry ! I could eat a horse with the saddle 
 on ! 
 
 " We've got one tater, ef the parson and the jedge 
 will give it up, an' thar's a little of the bar left that 
 Hank killed t'other day. Thar, I reckon that'll 
 keep you alive. Now tell us whar you come from, 
 an' what's the news." 
 
 " Don't ast me no questions till I've et my din- 
 ner, an' then I'll tell ye." 
 
 " Wall, swaller yer victuals now an' chaw 'em 
 atterwhile, ef you expect us to wait. Fur I reckon 
 we're starvin' for news 'bout as much as you be for 
 bar meat." 
 
 " Young man," said Parson Brownlow, " self- 
 preservation is the first law of nature. We don't 
 want you to starve to death, but we want you to tell 
 us right off about the army. Where is it ? Has it 
 passed the Gap ? Has it entered Knoxville ? " 
 
134 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 Jack stopped eating, and tried several times be- 
 fore he could swallow the bite in his mouth. 
 
 " The army has retreated," he said at length. 
 
 " Retreated ! " every voice cried out in amaze- 
 ment. 
 
 " I hate to tell it. I'd ruther cut off my right 
 hand. The army has fell back to Crab Orchard an' 
 is goin' back to Camp Nelson." 
 
 " Did they get licked ? " 
 
 " Licked ? No ! We licked 'em all out at Wild 
 Cat." 
 
 " We know about Wild Cat," said Brownlow. 
 
 "Yes, don't tell 'em nothin' 'bout Wild Cat," 
 said Henry. " I've told them all about that. Tell 
 us what's happened sence." 
 
 " Gimme a drink o' water. I sorter choked on 
 that bar meat," said Jack. " I hate like sin to hev 
 to tell you. But we got to London, you know, an' 
 had some men out as far as Barboursville, and found 
 the way clear to the Cumberland River. We was 
 all gittin' ready to foller, an' feelin' big as life, an' 
 sartin sure we'd lick him, when all to once Cun'l 
 Carter called us up an' said some one or other had 
 told Sherman the fool yarn that Zollicoffer was 
 a-goin' to nunite with Johnston over to Bowling 
 Green, and push between Sherman an' Thomas, an' 
 capture Lexington an' Frankfort, an' Sherman had 
 ordered us back." 
 
 " Back where ? " 
 
 " Back north of the Kaintuck River." 
 
 " An' Thomas done it ? " 
 
 " He hated it like sin. He sent back to Sher- 
 man an' told him it was a lie, that the rebs wan't 
 
Exile and Prison 135 
 
 a-comin' in between 'em, but a-movin' away, an' he 
 said he'd give the order, but he'd tuck pains to 
 send the message by a officer that had got to come 
 right back, so's to sorter give Sherman a hint to 
 tell him to countermand the order. But Sherman 
 didn't, an' the sojers was ordered back." 
 
 " Did they go ? " 
 
 " Some on 'em did. They cussed an' cried and 
 begged till Carter couldn't stand it, but it wan't no 
 use. They just hadter go or desert. I deserted, 
 an' I find a heap more did." 
 
 " You did wrong, my son," said Parson Brownlow. 
 " The provocation was great, and you meant right, 
 but you did wrong to desert the flag." 
 
 " It is a mysterious dispensation of Providence. 
 I cannot understand it," said Parson Cummings. 
 
 " Providence — fiddlestick ! " said the judge. " It's 
 cowardice or treason ! " 
 
 "Young man, proceed," said Brownlow. 
 
 " I run away. I hated to do it, an' warn't sure 
 it was right, but I reckoned it was. I tuck Cub to 
 Roundstone, Hank, an' found your kinfolks, the 
 Whitleys. Ole man Whitley said they'd keep him, 
 an' his daughter Jennie — " 
 
 "Omit that now," interrupted Brownlow, "and 
 tell us what you learned as you came. How do the 
 people talk ? What have the rebels done ? How 
 is this to affect our future ? " 
 
 " I got home, but didn't dast to stay. Ma was 
 all right, but Hank and his pa had hadter hide 
 here. Steph Crowell holped me right smart to git 
 off unseen. Your folks told me to tell you howdy. 
 Hank, an' your pa, too." 
 
136 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " What did you hear about tlie rebels ? " asked 
 the judge. 
 
 " They're gittin' mighty rantankerous sence they 
 heerd the news. They're talkin' big about what 
 they'll do ef they ketch Parson Brownlow an' the 
 men that burned the bridges. They say the Yanks 
 don't know when they do lick ; an' when they do, 
 they're so skeered, they run. They're huntin' for 
 you alls. I heerd said they knowed you was in 
 Tuskaleechee Cove, and a guard o' Union men in 
 Wear's Cove, an' they're goin' to attack us to- 
 morrow." 
 
 " To-morrow? " 
 
 " Yes ; they're on the way now. I hurried to git 
 word to ye." 
 
 There was an interval of silence. Parson Brown- 
 low opened his Bible and read the account of the 
 humiliation of Israel at Ai. His voice trembled; 
 and when he came to the prayer of Joshua, the tears 
 rolled down his swarthy cheeks and mingled with 
 those of a dozen brave men. 
 
 And Joshua rent his clothes, and fell to the earth upon 
 his face before the ark of the Lord until the eventide, he 
 and the elders of Israel, and put dust upon their heads. 
 
 And Joshua said, Alas, O Lord God, wherefore hast 
 thou at all brought this people over Jordan, to deliver us 
 into the hand of the Amorites, to destroy us ? would to 
 God we had been content, and dwelt on the other side 
 Jordan ! 
 
 O Lord, what shall I say, when Israel turneth their 
 backs before their enemies ! 
 
 For the Canaanites and all the inhabitants of the land 
 shall hear of it, and shall environ us round, and cut oft our 
 
Exile and Prison 137 
 
 name from the earth : and what wilt thou do unto thy 
 great name ? 
 
 " Let us pray," said Brownlow. 
 
 They all fell upon their knees, and many wept, 
 as the strong old patriot, with sobs and tears, poured 
 out his soul before God. 
 
 " What shall we do ? " they all asked, each of the 
 rest, when the prayer was ended. 
 
 " Let us stay and fight them," said Henry. 
 
 " There couldn't be no better place," said Jack. 
 " They can't git at us from but one way. They 
 can't come up with horses. They can't fetch no 
 cannon. They just gotter come up a few at a time. 
 We kin keep 'em back." 
 
 " But we'll starve," said the judge. 
 
 " I don't see why. They's game enough, an' we 
 kin go over to the other cove to-night an' gether 
 some corn an' taters." 
 
 " There seems nothing else to do," said Mr. Cum- 
 mings sadly. " I have long since beaten my swords 
 into ploughshares, and have used the Sword of the 
 Spirit, which is the word of God, to plough the soil 
 of men's hearts for the sowing of the seed. It is 
 hard for an old man who has preached the Gospel 
 of peace for forty years to be driven to fight with 
 carnal weapons, but I see no other way." 
 
 "We must prepare at once," said the judge. 
 
 " It won't do, friends," said Brownlow. " If the 
 Federal troops were really coming, or even holding 
 their own, we might do it. I shrink from blood- 
 shed ; and though I am called the Fighting Parson, 
 you will bear me record that I am a man of peace. 
 
138 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 Yet I would fight if there were any use. But we 
 could not hold out long. If the rebels are not 
 restrained by fear of the Union troops, they can 
 bring against us force which we cannot hopefully 
 resist. We must scatter, and at once. We must 
 go forth two and two, or, at most, in groups of 
 three, and hide where best we may, and wait for the 
 coming of the Union army." 
 
 After much discussion, this plan was adopted. 
 Jack set out with Henry and his father. Brownlow 
 and Dowell set out at nightfall with faces toward 
 Knoxville, and as day was breaking stopped at 
 the house of a friend, six miles from home, and 
 there learning that General Carroll, whom Brown- 
 low knew, and whom he believed to be a Union 
 man at heart, was about to succeed Wood in com- 
 mand at Knoxville, he sent to him a letter, con- 
 veyed by his friend, Colonel John Williams, asking 
 to be allowed to return to his home, and to be 
 assured protection. 
 
 General Carroll answered this letter six days 
 afterward, and the letter reached Brownlow three 
 days later, promising him protection to the extent 
 of securing for him a fair trial. Brownlow felt the 
 importance of proving in advance, if possible, that 
 he had not been concerned in the bridge-burning, 
 and sent his affidavit, with those of Cummings and 
 Dowell, that none of them had known in advance 
 of the plan to burn the bridges. The letter was 
 not delivered, as the messenger who conveyed it 
 received other word on his arrival at Knoxville. 
 Confederate friends of Brownlow, Mr. Sumner 
 and others, had sought from Hon. J. P. Benjamin, 
 
Exile and Prison 139 
 
 Confederate secretary of war, a safe conduct for 
 Brownlow out of the Confederacy. Secretary Ben- 
 jamin wrote to General Crittenden, who had recently 
 assumed command, saying that he was unable to 
 give a formal passport, but would be glad to know 
 that Brownlow was out of the Confederacy, rather 
 than a disturbing element within it. On receipt 
 of this, General Crittenden wrote to Brownlow, that 
 by calling at headquarters within twenty-four hours, 
 he would receive a passport into Kentucky, and 
 would be accompanied thither by a military escort. 
 Brownlow eagerly obeyed, and reported at headquar- 
 ters in Knoxville, where arrangements were made for 
 his removal two days later. But on the intervening 
 day, he was arrested for treason, and imprisoned. 
 
 There is no evidence that General Crittenden or 
 Secretary Benjamin dealt with Brownlow in bad 
 faith, though at the time it was impossible not to 
 believe that this had been the case. Both Benjamin 
 and Crittenden appear to have been surprised and 
 grieved at the act, which originated with the Con- 
 federate district attorney. But, fair or foul, he 
 was arrested, bail was refused, and the man who 
 had returned with assurance of protection and safe 
 removal was cast into prison. 
 
 The jail in Knoxville was crowded full on the 
 sixth day of December, 1861. One hundred and 
 fifty Union men were there confined, too thickly 
 crowded to allow all to sleep at once. The jail 
 contained no article of furniture, table, or bed, or 
 bench. A single water bucket and a tin cup did 
 service all around, and was refilled at intervals from 
 a dirty hogshead near at hand. The food was scanty 
 
140 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 and of poor quality, the jailer being, as is often the 
 case in the South, the proprietor of a hotel, and 
 feeding the prisoners largely on the remains from 
 the dinners at his hostelry. It was hard lines in the 
 jail when Boniface had an unusual run of custom at 
 his other boarding house. 
 
 The guards were insolent, profane, and obscene. 
 Occasionally, a negro was placed upon guard ; and 
 his delight in the magnifying of his office was almost 
 intolerable, partly because he could be more over- 
 bearing than any white man, and also because the 
 prisoners, while few of them owned slaves, agreed 
 with Parson Brownlow in " not regarding the chief 
 end of man as nigger." 
 
 Most of the prisoners were in the single open 
 room ; but back from the door was an iron cage, 
 in which were confined men charged with capital 
 offences. Of these there were four, all accused of 
 bridge-burning ; and the negro guard stood at the 
 outside of the cage, and threw bits of lead and 
 pebbles through the bars at them, and called them 
 vile names. 
 
 The short December day was drawing toward a 
 close. The prisoners were glad to see it go, yet 
 looked with more of sorrow to the night, in which 
 the floor must be spaced out to one set of sleepers, 
 who were to be wakened when the night was half 
 gone, that the rest might lie down. There was a 
 prospect, so they heard, that a large number were 
 to be taken south in a few days to be imprisoned 
 for the war. They all dreaded that fate, as they 
 did the hangman, yet longed for any relief from 
 the ills which they were suffering. 
 
Exile and Prison 141 
 
 The door swung open and another prisoner en- 
 tered. He was tall and dark, and stood erect, 
 reaching almost to the low ceiling. Most of them 
 recognized him at once, and the men in the cage 
 gave a sudden cry, 
 
 " Parson Brownlow ! " 
 
 The parson walked to the cage, straining his eyes 
 to look into the shadow within. 
 
 " What, Hanson, Jacob Hanson ! And your 
 son, too ! And Jack Casey ! Ah, friends, I'm 
 sorry to see you here ! And who is this ? Haun ? 
 Why, yes, I remember you. C. A. Haun ? Cer- 
 tainly, I know you. And you, too, are charged 
 with bridge-burning ! And here are more of my 
 friends, all about me here." 
 
 " We're all your friends, Parson," said an old 
 man at his elbow. 
 
 " What, Tate, you old Calvinist ! You here ! 
 Ah, yes, I know ! You cheered the flag when it 
 passed your door ! Give me your hand, you noble 
 old Baptist ! You are wrong about the doctrine of 
 the perseverance of the saints, but you have the 
 virtue. And here's another old father in Israel, 
 Parson Post. You prayed for Lincoln instead of 
 Jeff Davis, didn't you ? I heard about it. I'm 
 glad to be with you." 
 
 " We're having a dreadful time. Parson," said 
 one of the old men. " We ain't got no place to set 
 down, nor nothin' to set down on. We can't eat 
 what they send us to eat. The air is fit to smother 
 us. When it's cold we almost freeze, and when 
 it's hot we nearly die. When some of their bru- 
 tal soldiers get drunk, they put them in here to 
 
142 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 sober off, and they curse and abuse us day and 
 night." 
 
 Brownlow heard these and many Hke complaints. 
 He heard sad tales of friends at home, of unjust 
 charges, of false accusations, and of harsh treatment. 
 At length he quieted them all, and said : 
 
 " Gentlemen, these things are hard to bear, but 
 let us bear the yoke patiently. Don't take your 
 confinement so much to heart. Rather glory in it, 
 as patriots, devoted to your country and your prin- 
 ciples. What are you here for ? Not for stealing ; 
 not for counterfeiting ; not for murder ; but for 
 your devotion to the Stars and Stripes, — the glori- 
 ous old banner under which Washington conquered, 
 lived, and died ! You will yet enjoy your liberties, 
 and be permitted to die beneath the folds of the 
 star-spangled banner, the sacred emblem of a com- 
 mon nationality ! 
 
 " Be of good cheer. The Federal Government 
 will soon crush out this wicked rebellion and liberate 
 us, if we are not brutally murdered ; and if we are, 
 we die in a good cause. I am here with you to share 
 your sorrows and sufferings, and here I intend to 
 stay until the rebels release me, or execute me : or 
 until the Federal Government comes to my rescue. 
 Do not be cast down. Above all, don't count this 
 a disgrace. I regard this as the proudest day of my 
 life." 
 
 It would be cruel to dwell upon those days. It 
 would be unjust not to remember that some of the 
 officers sought to relieve the sufferings of the pris- 
 oners, above all that the Confederate surgeon. Dr. 
 Gray, who was unfaiHng in his attentions to the 
 
Exile and Prison 143 
 
 prisoners, secured them a few rude comforts, benches, 
 a table, some pallets for the sick, and exercised a 
 humanity which the prisoners long remembered. 
 There were incidents of kindness such as his, which 
 seemed forever like the spirit of the Good Samaritan. 
 There were also instances of abuses too sad to 
 recall ; too brutal to be named. 
 
 Southern prisons are dreadful places, even to this 
 day ; and that at Knoxville, in a time when to 
 ordinary motives for ill treatment there was added 
 that of political hatred, was the scene of some gross 
 indignities inflicted upon men whose only crime 
 was their loyalty. May God forgive the brutalities 
 that were inflicted by both armies in their military 
 prisons ! There is nothing that evokes more of 
 the fiend in a brutal man than to place him, armed 
 and in power, over men against whom he conceives 
 himself to have the right of belligerent hatred. 
 
 One of the things for which the prisoners watched 
 with most of eagerness, and one that brought them 
 most of sadness, was the news that came to them by 
 other prisoners who were constantly arriving. A 
 new group from Jefi^erson County came one day 
 and brought news of the capture and execution of 
 Hensie and Fry. The hearts of those charged with 
 bridge-burning fell, and they sorrowfully asked for 
 particulars. 
 
 " Hit war Cun'l Leadbetter hunted on 'em down," 
 said the new arrival. 
 
 " Who's he ? " asked Henry. " I never heerd 
 tell o' him," 
 
 " I know him," said Brownlow. " He's a Maine 
 man. No Southern man can be as brutal as a 
 
144 -^ Hero in Homespun 
 
 renegade Northerner. He adds to the passion he 
 has learned in the South a dehberation and calcu- 
 lating cruelty which a Southern man cannot equal." 
 
 " He tied the knot with his own hands," said 
 the new prisoner. " He had 'em hung so near the 
 track that men could hit the bodies with canes from 
 the keer winders. An' he ordered the bodies to 
 hang four days." 
 
 " The bloody scoundrel ! " cried Brownlow. 
 " When the Federal army comes into East Ten- 
 nessee, that infernal murderer shall hang from the 
 same limb ! " 
 
 " Hit was specially hard for Fry," continued the 
 prisoner. " His wife come an' begged to see him 
 afore he was hung, but — " 
 
 " His wife ? " asked Haun. " Dave Fry hain't 
 got no wife." 
 
 " Hit warn't Dave Fry," was the reply. 
 
 " What Fry was hit, then ? " 
 
 " His cousin Bill." 
 
 " Lookyhere ! " cried Jacob Hanson. " You 
 mean to say hit warn't Dave Fry was hung ? " 
 
 " I tole you hit war his cousin," replied the 
 prisoner. 
 
 Jacob started to speak, but Henry checked him. 
 
 " Look out what you say, pa. Ye cyan't do 
 Bill no good now, and hit tain't no use to git Dave 
 inter trouble." 
 
 " Be careful, too, for your own sake," said Brown- 
 low. " These walls have ears. Don't confess that 
 you know too much about it." 
 
 There was an awful silence throughout the jail 
 for a full minute. The men in the cage looked at 
 
Exile and Prison 145 
 
 each other until they all grew pale, and in the dim 
 light of the jail their faces were terrible to see. 
 The prisoners gathered about the cage and waited 
 breathlessly. 
 
 " If you can say anything without danger to 
 yourself or others," said Parson Post, " we're very 
 anxious to hear. Be careful, though. Speak low." 
 
 Jacob started to speak several times before he 
 succeeded. Then he said, in a low voice : 
 
 " I hain't a-goin' to say who was thar, or who 
 warn't. I hain't a-goin' to confess that I know 
 nothin' about hit. But men," — his voice sank to a 
 whisper, — " I'll say this much. As true as God's 
 in heaven, they've hung the wrong man ! " 
 
 Then there was a long and terrible silence, and 
 the men in the jail dared hardly to speak, or even 
 to think. As they thought of it afterward, there 
 was no hour of their sad prison life that seemed 
 to them so unutterably dark as that period of silence 
 and horror that followed Jacob Hanson's declara- 
 tion. 
 
 The next day forty prisoners were marched out 
 and taken to the prison at Tuscaloosa, Alabama, 
 for the war. It was a sad scene when they departed 
 to that almost hopeless incarceration, but it left 
 more room. Before night, however, thirty-one 
 other prisoners were brought in, and a dozen 
 drunken soldiers were sent in for the night. The 
 latter made the jail a howling pandemonium. In- 
 deed, there seemed to be a general spree among the 
 Confederate soldiers, and drunken men were placed 
 on guard without. Three times during the night 
 a drunken soldier thrust his gun through the win- 
 
146 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 dow of the jail and discharged it, by accident, he 
 said. 
 
 A few days afterward, Haun was taken from the 
 jail and hanged. He was a young man of twenty- 
 seven, and left a young wife and a family of little 
 ones. Still a few days later, they took Jacob and 
 Henry Hanson, and hanged them on the same 
 gallows. 
 
 The details of the hanging, the prisoners might 
 never have known, had it not been that the guards 
 about the jail brought back reports of the execution, 
 and told them, with every evidence of delight, to 
 the prisoners, whom they constantly threatened with 
 like fate. From these it appeared that the father 
 was compelled to witness the execution of his son, 
 before he was hanged himself. Both died unmoved, 
 declaring their loyalty to the Union and the prin- 
 ciples for which they had suffered. 
 
 There was more hesitation about Jack Casey. 
 He was known to have been associated with the 
 Hansons, whose guilt was clearly proved. The 
 evidence against him was circumstantial, but strong. 
 Against it, he could only declare that at the time 
 of the burning he had been in the Union army. 
 But this, if it proved anything, proved him to have 
 been a deserter ; and the word of a deserter was 
 trusted little, when there was so strong a motive for 
 his lying. Besides, when captured, he was fleeing 
 from the ofiicers, in company with the Hansons, 
 who were his almost certain partners in the crime. 
 There were other lines of evidence ; and one man, 
 whose evidence was procured through Lieutenant 
 Sam Marshall, broke the force of his alibi by swear- 
 
Exile and Prison 147 
 
 ing that he had seen Casey near the scene of the 
 bridge-burning, the night before it had happened. 
 The mihtary court felt the necessity of taking strong 
 measures. It was almost impossible to convict 
 these men, who were so strongly bound together. 
 It was worse than folly to turn them over for trial 
 to their own courts. The military tribunals had 
 been far more liberal in these doubtful cases than 
 their instructions would have warranted. They 
 sentenced Casey to be hanged. 
 
 It was a sad mother who came to the jail to see 
 her son Jack for the last time. She had ridden all 
 night, on horseback, and arrived early in the morn- 
 ing. She cast herself upon her son's neck and 
 wept as if her heart would break. She could give 
 up her son to die upon the field of battle, but to 
 see him die upon the scaffold, and for an offence of 
 which he was innocent, she could not bear. 
 
 " My God, what a sight ! " cried Brownlow. 
 " May these eyes of mine, that have seen many 
 sad sights, never look upon one like this again ! " 
 
 He tried to think of some way to prevent this 
 terrible murder of an innocent man. Could noth- 
 ing be done? 
 
 He tore from his note-book a leaf, and wrote 
 upon it a despatch to Jefferson Davis. Soon the 
 time allowed the poor woman to take a last farewell 
 of her son expired, and they led her from the cage, 
 weeping bitterly. 
 
 " Here, madam," said Brownlow ; " your son 
 must not die. He is innocent. Bad as this re- 
 bellion is, Jefferson Davis does not wish to hang 
 innocent men. It is too late to establish his inno- 
 
148 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 cence, but we may appeal to the pity of the Presi- 
 dent at Richmond. The telegraph office is near. 
 Hasten there and send this message : 
 
 " ' Knoxville, Dec. 27, 1861. 
 "'Hon. Jefferson Davis: — My only son, Andrew 
 Jackson Casey, is sentenced to hang at four o'clock this 
 evening, on a charge of bridge-burning. As he remains 
 my earthly all, and all my hopes of happiness centre in 
 him, I implore you to pardon him. 
 
 "'Elizabeth Casey.'" 
 
 Jefferson Davis had a tender heart. Like the 
 great-hearted Lincoln, he more than once took 
 counsel of his sympathies, rather than his judg- 
 ment, preferring to err on the side of mercy. He 
 saw in imagination the mother and the doomed son. 
 He pictured to himself the grief of the aged woman 
 at the execution of her only boy. His eyes filled 
 with tears. 
 
 " I cannot decide as to the justice of the sen- 
 tence," said he ; " but I will save his life." 
 
 Two hours before the execution should have taken 
 place, the jailer entered the prison with Elizabeth 
 Casey. In her hand was a slip of yellow paper. 
 
 " I am to release you from the cage," said the 
 jailer, " and give you the freedom of the prison 
 until you are taken south. Your sentence is com- 
 muted to imprisonment during the war." 
 
 The mother rushed forward to meet her boy, 
 and with a cry of joy fell fainting in his arms, her 
 hand still clutching the yellow paper which bore 
 the news from Jefferson Davis that her son was 
 not to die. 
 
XII 
 
 Jack's First Journey by Rail 
 
 THE month of December was almost gone, 
 and with it the year 1861. The hours 
 dragged heavily in the Knoxville jail. The 
 days since Christmas had been dreary 
 enough. The soldiers were unusually bibulous, 
 and the jail was never free from the presence of 
 some who were sobering off. The guards were just 
 drunk enough to be ugly, and their ill-treatment 
 became so unendurable that one of them was dis- 
 armed and soundly thrashed by a prisoner named 
 Turner. The officers were probably glad of the 
 event as an aid to discipline. At any rate, Turner 
 received no punishment, and for a day or two the 
 prisoners were treated with a little less of inhuman- 
 ity. Parson Brownlow watched the fight with the 
 keenest interest, and applauded its issue ; and even 
 Jack Casey, who was then in the cage under sen- 
 tence of death next day, could not repress his joy. 
 The day after Jack's reprieve, occurred one of 
 the periodical deportations which always caused a 
 flutter of excitement. No one knew who were to 
 be sent south until the names were called. The 
 officer who on this day had charge of the shipping 
 of prisoners was himself a trifle the worse for 
 his Christmas drinking, and in no very amiable 
 mood. He had forgotten his list of prisoners, 
 
 149 
 
150 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 too, and there was a vexatious delay while he sent 
 for it. 
 
 " Come, now. More lively when your names 
 are called ! We've no time to lose ! Sick ? " he 
 demanded of one old man. " Git up here, you old 
 liar ! You'll be sicker afore you're done with this ! " 
 
 Twenty-two prisoners were called off, Jack among 
 the rest. They were marched through the streets 
 under a heavy guard, and locked into a box car, to 
 be sent to Tuscaloosa. The train was a slow one 
 and the stops were frequent, and the short day was 
 at its close when it entered Chattanooga. 
 
 Here there was a delay ; and at length the prison- 
 ers were ordered out, under guard, and were trans- 
 ferred to a car on another train. They eagerly 
 looked about them, as they passed from one train 
 to the other, for some opportunity to escape, but 
 found none. 
 
 Jack's eye took in as much as time and the dark- 
 ness would permit while the prisoners were being 
 loaded into the car. There were several cars ahead, 
 — freight cars, and one or two flat cars, — and then 
 came the freight car which contained the prisoners. 
 Back of this was the caboose, in which the eight 
 guards and the trainmen stayed. Two guards were 
 stationed upon the top of the prisoners' car, and 
 were relieved at intervals of two or three hours. 
 But the prisoners had judged from the sound of 
 their walking upon the roof that the guards on top 
 did not regard their post as hazardous, and made 
 occasional excursions to the caboose to warm them- 
 selves within and without, leaving only one man on 
 the roof; and they thought there had been one or 
 
Jack's First Journey by Rail 151 
 
 two brief intervals during the day in which all the 
 guards had been in the caboose. This had given 
 them little comfort, however; for these times, if they 
 occurred, were of brief duration and when the train 
 was in motion, and they were securely locked in. 
 
 The car was locked. The last breath of outside 
 air had been breathed. The last chance of escape 
 seemed gone. In darkness and silence the prisoners 
 huddled inside the car. An hour passed, and the 
 train was slowly creeping south. It would take 
 them all night to ride the two hundred miles to 
 Tuscaloosa, and the end would come all too soon. 
 Another hour passed. Two men who were sick, 
 one with rheumatism and the other with dysentery, 
 lay in the corner moaning, one with pain and the 
 other with cold. The others began to rise and 
 move about the car, kicking their feet against the 
 sides to warm them. 
 
 As Jack passed about the car, his foot struck a 
 loose board in the end next the caboose. The 
 guards had not noticed it in the dusk. It was as 
 if, in the previous loading of a beam of timber, or 
 other long and heavy article, the end of the car had 
 received a blow that started the nails in three of the 
 narrow matched boards, directly under the small 
 end door and over the bumpers. 
 
 Jack dropped on his knees and examined the 
 place. The nails had been pushed out nearly an 
 inch, and might easily be knocked out entirely. 
 Could an opening there be of service to them ? 
 They could not hope to escape by that way, and at 
 first it seemed he had made a useless discovery. 
 He called a council, and together the prisoners 
 
152 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 evolved a plan which had in it some promise of 
 success. 
 
 The night was raw, and the guards on top grew 
 cold. About the middle of the second watch, the 
 prisoners were rejoiced to hear them both, as they 
 thought, clamber down the ladder at the end of the 
 car and enter the caboose. 
 
 " Now's the time, boys ! " said Jack, and gave 
 the loose boards a vigorous kick, and then another, 
 and another. 
 
 At the third kick, the middle board gave way. 
 Jack reached out for the coupling-pin. They were 
 ascending a short grade, and he could not draw it. 
 Oh, if they would only go down hill for a moment ! 
 The ascent seemed miles in length. The guards would 
 surely return. The cars began bumping together. 
 They were descending a slope. Now for it ! 
 
 " Pull the furthest pin. Jack, so's we kin hev 
 two ! " said a prisoner at his ear. Jack reached, 
 and withdrew the farther pin, and brought it inside ; 
 then pulled back the boards that still hung by the 
 nails at the top, and waited. 
 
 They began to go up hill again. Jack peered 
 out. They were leaving the caboose behind. It 
 had stopped. It was far back. They rounded a 
 curve and left it out of sight. 
 
 " Glory ! " shouted Jack. 
 
 " Whoop-ee ! " cried the prisoners. 
 
 The sick men moaned, and one of them pleaded 
 pitifully. 
 
 " Oh, boys, don't leave us ! " 
 
 " Pull in the other pin and the link," said Jack's 
 monitor. 
 
Jack's First Journey by Rail 153 
 
 Jack drew the other pin, and reached out to take 
 the hnk. As he was drawing it inside, a pair of 
 legs came down the end of the car, and a foot swung 
 uncertainly, feehng for a hold. They were mistaken 
 in thinking that both guards were in the caboose. 
 Only one had gone within. The other, seeing that 
 an accident had occurred, and ignorant of the cause, 
 had laid his gun upon the roof of the car, and was 
 descending to investigate. It was no time to falter. 
 The soldier was standing insecurely on the bumper, 
 and holding with one hand to the brake-rod, while 
 with the other he felt for a hold on the small end 
 door. Jack stepped back, and gave a short run 
 and a mighty kick. The boards burst off, and they 
 and his foot struck the knee of the unstable guard. 
 He lost his footing on the bumper and his hold 
 upon the door. A moment he held with one hand 
 to the brake ; but swung round, and fell heavily 
 upon the track. 
 
 The other prisoners had taken the two heavy 
 coupling-pins and the link. The man with the 
 link was busy at the door in the other end, and two 
 with the pins were at one of the side doors. The 
 latter first effected an egress, and a half dozen of 
 the most reckless jumped out in the dark, with the 
 train in motion. In time, the end door gave way, 
 and Jack crawled through and drew the pin. The 
 car slacked up, and soon stopped on a short bridge. 
 The caboose was two miles behind, and the train 
 was speeding on in the darkness. One of the 
 prisoners climbed to the top, and secured the gun 
 of the soldier. Others armed themselves with the 
 coupling-pins, and all, save the two that were sick. 
 
154 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 scattered into the woods, — some to be recaptured, 
 some to perish in the wilderness, and some, after 
 untold trials, to escape. 
 
 When Jack crawled out of the window to 
 uncouple the car, he did what was for him an 
 unprecedented thing. He had never ridden before 
 on the cars ; and to climb between them in the 
 night seemed, as indeed it was, a perilous venture. 
 He felt for something to hold to, found the brake- 
 rod of the car ahead, and clung to it with one hand, 
 and stood with a foot on each bumper, while he 
 leaned down to draw the pin. 
 
 The sweat was starting from him. His hand 
 stuck to the frosty iron. He got his balance. He 
 found the pin. He waited till the tension lessened, 
 and drew the pin and handed it through the win- 
 dow. Just then the car gave a jerk as the train 
 began an ascent, and he saved himself from falling 
 by holding fast to the brake with both hands. 
 When he regained his hold, the cars had separated, 
 and he was speeding on with the train. 
 
 Jack was appalled when he realized his situation. 
 The cutting-off of the cars would soon be discov- 
 ered, and he would be found alone of all the prison- 
 ers. He crouched down upon the bumper and 
 thought fast how he could make the best of his 
 deplorable condition. He could not get into the 
 car. The end door was locked. He might have 
 climbed to the top, but was not sure but he was 
 safer where he was. If he could be sure of finding 
 an open door, and could enter it without too great 
 danger, he would prefer to climb to the top and 
 explore from car to car. But if he did not succeed, 
 
Jack's First Journey by Rail 155 
 
 his danger would be increased. He decided to stay 
 where he was, and, if discovered, to jump off. 
 
 He was fortunately saved from any rash step, and 
 relieved from his dilemma, by the slacking of the 
 train as it approached a station. Here, as it later 
 appeared, they were to meet a train from the south, 
 and here, he knew, they must discover the loss of 
 their cars. The train ran upon a siding and slowed 
 up. As the rear car passed the switch, a lantern 
 flashed full in Jack's face ; but the switchman had 
 turned to close the switch, and did not see him. 
 Jack let go his hold and quickly ran on the other 
 side, along in the shadow of the train, until he came 
 to some piles of railroad ties, and hid behind them. 
 
 He watched the switchman's light as he followed 
 the train to where it had stopped. The light 
 stopped at the end car and then went hurrying 
 down the track to the engine. Then other lights 
 came back. There were excited shouts and curses. 
 The train from the south came in, but was stopped 
 and held. 
 
 Soon the engine of the south-bound train cut off 
 and ran back after the lost cars, the tender carrying 
 two men from the north-bound train and two more 
 hastily picked up at the Httle station. 
 
 Jack crept under his own train to the side of the 
 other. He had ample time, and felt from car to 
 car for an open door. He found none. It was a 
 through-freight train, loaded for the most part with 
 cotton, bound for Virginia. He stumbled over a 
 pinch-bar lying beside the track. It was a heavy, 
 clumsy tool for any other than its proper use, but 
 it was a godsend to Jack. Slipping between two 
 
156 A Hero in Homespun ' 
 
 cars, he felt for the hasp and padlock that secured 
 the end door of one of them, and, using his bar with 
 vigor, pried off the staple and opened the door. 
 
 The inside was filled with cotton bales. There 
 was a very narrow space above them in the car. 
 He crawled in with difficulty, and with greater diffi- 
 culty turned back and slid the door shut. He 
 crawled half the length of the car, and found in 
 the middle a narrow space that had not been filled, 
 between the layers of bales in the two ends. Here 
 he could stand erect, and find elbow-room and a 
 fighting chance. 
 
 He began to take courage. His situation was 
 not hopeless. If he could remain here without 
 detection, he might hope to get far enough from the 
 scene of escape to avoid suspicion when he should 
 again appear among men. He could hardly wait 
 for the train to move. The trainmen were quite 
 as impatient as he. His heart stood still as he 
 heard them pass his car cursing. But it was the 
 delay that vexed their righteous souls. They cared 
 little about the prisoners, but only wished they had 
 been in Washington — or some worse place — before 
 they had caused them this trouble. For the men 
 of the other train and the drunken, faithless guards 
 they had anything but gentle words. 
 
 It was a full hour, and must have been past mid- 
 night, when the noise of the other engine was heard. 
 Without waiting to make inquiries, the north-bound 
 train took on its two employes, and, amid a volley 
 of curses, started on its way. 
 
 They made few stops before reaching Chatta- 
 nooga. Jack lay down on the best bed he had 
 
Jack's First Journey by Rail 157 
 
 enjoyed for weeks, and slept soundly until awak- 
 ened by the stopping of the train. There was a 
 long wait and a deal of switching then ; but at last, 
 soon after sunrise, they crossed the Tennessee River 
 and were on their way again. 
 
 Jack determined to stay where he was as long as 
 possible. His chances were improving with every 
 mile. He must get through the Confederate lines 
 somehow, but he could not be in any worse place 
 than he had been. 
 
 They passed through Knoxville early in the after- 
 noon. Jack feared that they might stop and leave 
 him there, but they only stopped to change engines, 
 and moved on. Their progress was slower now, 
 and it was night when they stopped at a small sta- 
 tion near the Virginia line. 
 
 The prisoners had had two days' scanty rations 
 served on leaving Knoxville. Jack had had some- 
 thing to eat and had slept a part of the day. 
 Nightfall found him somewhat rested and ready 
 for adventure. He waited an hour after the cars 
 had been run on to the siding, and, satisfied that 
 they were at their journey's end, crawled back 
 along the cotton bales, slid open the end door, 
 slipped out between the cars, and, shouldering his 
 bar, escaped to the woods and turned his face 
 toward the north star. 
 
XIII 
 
 Jack's Return to his Regiment 
 
 THERE was never such a boy as Cub. 
 Everybody admitted that. And it was 
 the more remarkable, considering how 
 many other boys he resembled. There 
 was not a soldier in Carter's brigade who was not re- 
 minded of some " voung un " whom Cub " favored." 
 There was not a fond old grandmother in Round- 
 stone Holler who was not given to tracing resem- 
 blances, and who did not give especial attention to 
 Cub. Take him for all in all, if the concurrent 
 testimony of those who knew him in childhood is 
 to be believed, we shall not look upon his like 
 again. This is true also of a large number of other 
 small boys, according to the testimony — and who 
 would dare dispute it ? — of parents and admiring 
 friends. Considering how many interesting babies 
 there are in the world, the presence in life of so 
 many commonplace grown people must forever re- 
 main an inscrutable mystery. But Cub belonged 
 quite out of the ordinary category, and even moth- 
 ers with boys of their own sometimes found it safe 
 to exclaim, with what mental reservations it is not 
 our purpose to inquire, — 
 
 " Sech another boy ! " 
 
 Cub's first Christmas in Roundstone was a great 
 event. He woke betimes and climbed out of bed, 
 
 158 
 
Jack's Return to his Regiment 159 
 
 and ran to the chimney-corner, where he found the 
 most wonderful boy doll, dressed all in blue and 
 with a soldier cap. His eyes and nose were cun- 
 ningly painted on his white cloth face. His shoes 
 were of the same material as his clothes. No 
 purchased toy could have given half the pleasure 
 that was afforded by that remarkable specimen of the 
 skill of Jennie. It was his only present, and it was 
 enough. Children on Roundstone never think of 
 receiving more than one present, and that is why 
 they so enjoy Christmas, It has been demonstrated 
 that the joy which Christmas brings is in inverse 
 ratio with the number of presents which a child is 
 accustomed to receive. 
 
 Cub marched up and down the porch all Christ- 
 mas day, shouting orders to his soldier doll, and 
 calling " Christmas gift!" — which is the Holler's 
 equivalent of " Merry Christmas!" — to all pass- 
 ers, and now and then shouting for the Union and 
 the flag, and hanging Jeff Davis to a sour-apple 
 tree. 
 
 No one has quite the same appreciation of the 
 Civil War as one who lived through its scenes as a 
 boy, and whose earliest and most indelible impres- 
 sions are associated with its most stirring events. 
 Cub drew in the military spirit with the air he 
 breathed, and when he was told that if he cried 
 at having his face washed — as, being a boy, he did 
 — he would never be a soldier, he made his best 
 attempt at heroic and stoical silence, though con- 
 vinced that no soldier could have so severe a test 
 of courage. 
 
 The days of " Christmas week " sped rapidly. 
 
i6o A Hero in Homespun 
 
 They were short, dark days, and nature was prepar- 
 ing for the dismal and incessant rain which fell in 
 January. But no day went by that did not bring 
 some neighbor with news, that was often old before 
 it reached Roundstone. There was likely to be 
 trouble over near Somerset, and there was hope 
 that Zollicoffer would be driven back by a differ- 
 ent route from the Gap. Thomas was massing his 
 forces, and had ordered the scattered detachments of 
 Carter's brigade to be ready to march to Somerset. 
 
 On New Year's Eve, a drizzling rain was falling, 
 and the air had that creeping chill which penetrates 
 all garments and coils itself next the skin, like a 
 cold and slimy serpent. Cub and Jennie were in 
 the chimney-corner, and she was knitting and teach- 
 ing; him his letters out of Webster's " Old Blue- 
 Back " speller, and telling him the wonderful stories 
 in the back part, which in Roundstone Holler is 
 known as "the grammar" of the book, — about 
 the ox that was gored, and the dairymaid who 
 tripped in the midst of her day-dream, and the 
 rude boys at whom the farmer threw first grass and 
 then stones. John was popping corn in a long- 
 handled skillet, his face getting red as the coals over 
 which he held it as he bent over his work. The 
 corn was popping with a merry rattle against the tin 
 cover, when there came a faint hallo at the fence, 
 and the dogs began to bark. John was too intent 
 upon finishing the popping of his corn to stop, and 
 Jennie went to the door. 
 
 " Come back, Tiger ! Here, Watch ! " she said, 
 and the dogs came to her. " Hallo ! " she called. 
 
 " Howdy ! " The voice was faint, and she heard 
 
Jack's Return to his Regiment i6i 
 
 the wooden latch of the gate cHck. There was 
 something in the voice that sent the blood to her 
 cheeks. Without waiting to ask who was there, 
 she called, " Come up to the house ! " 
 
 He came, reeling up from the fence, and caught 
 at the porch to steady himself. He stood erect 
 with an effort, and addressed a "good evening" to 
 Jennie, and, as she stood aside, entered the house. 
 A moment he stood, holding to the door for sup- 
 port, and then, on first feeling of the warmth of the 
 room, dropped fainting upon the floor. 
 
 " Pa ! " cried Jennie, as John was lifting the cover 
 from the skillet. "Quick! It's Mr. Casey!" 
 
 John sprang to his feet, and was quickly at Jack's 
 side. He was drenched to the skin, and cold. 
 
 " Git the whiskey bottle, Jennie ! " 
 
 Jack was soon sitting with his head on John's 
 knee, sipping the whiskey and hot water which 
 Jennie held for him. 
 
 " I'm all right now," he said. " I was tard, an' 
 a leetle mite faint. I hain't had nothin' to eat all 
 day." 
 
 " Don't talk now. Jen, you run an' git Jack 
 some hot milk with jes' a thimbleful o' corn juice 
 in it, an' give me a dry shirt fur him, an' some hot 
 water in a bucket fur his feet, an' a blanket to wrop 
 him in, an' a dry towel." 
 
 Jennie obeyed these commands almost simultane- 
 ously, and started for the hot milk, while John was 
 stripping off the wet clothes. Cub had stood in 
 wonder for the few moments that had been con- 
 sumed, but now he rushed to Jack, saying, 
 
 " Christmas gift. Jack ! Don't you know me ? " 
 
1 62 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " Cub ! Bless yer ole heart ! I seed you every 
 minute in my mind while I've ben a-tryin' to git 
 hyur. You look jes' the same, but it seems so 
 long sence I've ben hyur, an' they's so many things 
 happened, an' I feel so much older myself, I sorter 
 had an z'dy I'd find you a head taller." 
 
 John rubbed Jack dry with the towel, and brought 
 a glow to his back and limbs ; and placing him in a 
 chair before the fire, wrapped in a blanket, with his 
 feet in the bucket of hot water, gave him the milk 
 which Jennie brought. 
 
 " Now, ye kin hev that an' thet's all ye kin 
 hev fur now, only a handful of this popcorn ye 
 kin hev to chaw wile you're drinkin' yer milk. In 
 the mornin' ye kin hev more. Or ef ye wake 
 up in the night, ye kin mebby hev a leetle more. 
 But you're mighty nigh starved an' sick, an' victuals 
 is too scase now to kill a man with 'em." 
 
 " Pa, don't ! " said Jennie. " We've got victuals 
 enough ! " 
 
 " Oh, yes, we've got enough, thank the Lord ! 
 But we hain't got none to waste in killin' good 
 men." 
 
 " I reckon he's right," said Jack ; " but some more 
 would taste mighty good ! " 
 
 " Well, ye kin hev 'bout half a glass o' milk an' 
 another handful o' popcorn. No, take hit out o' 
 the other side o' the pan. That got burned a leetle 
 mite. I want ye to eat the best, what ye do 
 eat. 
 
 " He kin have all he wants, cyan't he, Jennie ? " 
 asked Cub. " Nice old Jack ! My Jack ! " and he 
 fondled Jack as if he were a big dog. 
 
Jack's Return to his Regiment 163 
 
 " Wall, Jack, hit's time to put ye to bed. I'm 
 goin' to put ye right here in my bed clost to the 
 fire. I'll take the bed in the other corner." 
 
 " I'm goin' to sleep with Jack," said Cub. 
 
 " Ye goin' to jilt Jennie ? " asked John. " Thar, 
 Jen, yer nose is broke now. Cub's gin ye the mit- 
 ten, shore." 
 
 " I'd sorter like to have him," said Jack. " I 
 hain't had nobody nor nothin' that was my own for 
 seems lack a hundred years." 
 
 Jack got into bed with a hot brick at his feet, and 
 Cub soon came down with Jennie, dressed in his 
 union night-suit, which Jennie had made for him, 
 and looking like a little polar bear as he scampered 
 about the room. He crept in beside Jack, and 
 Jack drew him close to himself, and said, — 
 
 " God bless ye. Cub ! Good night. Miss Jennie. 
 Good night, Mr. Whitley. This hain't much like 
 prison ! " 
 
 Jack woke in the night and drank the glass of 
 milk that had been left for him, and ate another 
 saucerful of the popcorn, which latter, however, he 
 found himself constrained to share with Cub, who 
 also wakened ; and in the morning he was almost 
 himself. 
 
 " No, ye hain't nuther," said Mr. Whitley. " I 
 reckon I'm the boss o' my own house. Ye hain't 
 nuther a-goin' to git up an' go on. Ye gotter lay in 
 bed to-day, an' rest an' git sorter fatted up, an' in 
 'bout a week, wen the rain holds up, ye kin go 
 back to the army. I reckon you're right 'bout hit 
 bein' a mistake to leave, but I sorter gloried in yer 
 spunk ! " 
 
164 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " Happy New Year ! " cried Cub, waking and rub- 
 bing his eyes. 
 
 "Ah, tiiar, ye young rascal! Got ahead o' yer 
 ole granpap ! You'll ketch a good lickin' fur thet ! 
 Now see ef ye don't ! " 
 
 Cub laughed at the prospect of a whipping from 
 " granpap," and Mr. Whitley took him by the feet, 
 held him head down. Cub screaming with delight, and 
 carried him to his own bed, where he tumbled him 
 over and over, catching him by the heels and turning 
 him in repeated somersets on the bed, and demand- 
 ing each time he turned him over whether he now 
 intended to be a good boy, and Cub calling each time, 
 
 " No ! No ! I won't be dood ! Do it aden ! " 
 
 Jack rose on his elbow and watched the sport with 
 eager eyes. Then he sank back in the bed, finding 
 himself weaker than he had thought, and closed his 
 eyes with a sense of restful gratitude. 
 
 Breakfast came soon, and none too soon for Jack, 
 but he was restricted in the amount of his food by 
 John Whitley, who insisted that times were too hard 
 to kill good men by overfeeding them. But at din- 
 ner he took a little more, and at night ate as much 
 as he wished of popcorn and milk. And that was 
 the way that Jack celebrated the New Year of 1862. 
 
 Next day he was up and about, but was glad at 
 times to lie down again. John hailed Dr. Culvert 
 as he passed, and had him look at Jack. But he only 
 said that Jack was doing well, though he had "grazed 
 a spell o' fever mighty clost." 
 
 " I'd give him a dose o' quinine," he said, " jes' 
 fur good luck, ef 'twarn't that quinine's gittin' so scase 
 an' high. Hit's about impossible to git, and they's 
 
Jack's Return to his Regiment 165 
 
 a heap a-needin' on it. I look at a feller's tongue 
 an' feel his pulse twict afore puttin' my knife blade 
 inter my quinine bottle, these days." 
 
 He forbade Jack's rejoining the army for a week at 
 least, and that was a comfort to Jack, who proceeded 
 to settle down for a week's visit with a clear con- 
 science. He felt comparatively secure about his 
 mother, from whom he had learned, when he saw her 
 last in jail, that while the Union men about his home 
 were suffering quite as much as ever, the withdrawal 
 of troops into Kentucky had reduced somewhat the 
 plundering of homes and the danger to the women 
 so remote from the towns as his mother. 
 
 That week was an oasis in the memory of both 
 Jack and Jennie. They already counted themselves 
 old friends, and were strongly drawn together by 
 their mutual interest in Cub. No words of love 
 passed between them, but their friendship ripened 
 into warm affection. 
 
 It rained all that week, and was still raining when 
 the week expired. John insisted that he should not 
 start in the rain, but Jack declared that he would 
 not wait a day beyond the doctor's orders. So John 
 called in the doctor again, who said that Jack was 
 well, but that it was resky to start in sech a rain, 
 and that he had best stop over Sunday and see ef 
 it didn't hold up. Sunday was three days distant, 
 and Jack stopped with mingled satisfaction and im- 
 patience, but declared that he would start Monday 
 at sunup, if it rained pitchforks and red-hot cannon 
 balls. 
 
 " Ye shan't start off alone," said John. " I'll take 
 ye a step on yer way." 
 
1 66 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 So Monday morning they mounted their horses, 
 and started through swollen branches and over roads 
 that were badly washed out for Somerset and the 
 Union camp. They rode hard that day, and stopped 
 over night at Barboursville. The next night they 
 were across the Cumberland from Williamsburg. 
 The river was past fording, and they had some 
 difficulty in finding a ferry. But at length a man 
 was found with a crazy old skiff who set Jack over 
 for a half dollar in paper money, which sum, together 
 with another dollar for emergencies, John Whitley 
 provided. 
 
 Jack pressed his hand as they stood on the bank 
 together, and John started back to where he was 
 acquainted and could get a lodging a mile back. 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Whitley," said he. "You've 
 been like a father to me." 
 
 " Sorter gittin' ready to be," said John, dryly. 
 
 That was the sort of remark that passed, and still 
 passes, for a joke on Roundstone, and had the 
 added value of conveying parental permission, which 
 was always deemed desirable, but to be sought by 
 indirect approaches, and granted without definitely 
 saying so. To mention the matter of Jack's inter- 
 est in Jennie in so many words would have been 
 presumptuous in Jack and quite indelicate in John. 
 When this explanation is made, it will be seen that 
 John's dry joke combined a good many admirable 
 features. He chuckled over his skill in saying it, 
 for indeed it was necessary that something should 
 be said, and it was his last chance. He repeated to 
 himself the remark, and that of Jack, to which it was 
 a reply, half the long way home. He found an 
 
Jack's Return to his Regiment 167 
 
 opportunity to repeat it to Jennie soon after he had 
 put out the horses. He told it to her as he was 
 pulUng on his dry woollen stockings in the chimney- 
 corner and while she was getting him something warm 
 to eat. He told it with a grave face ; but when he 
 saw that Jennie blushed, he laughed. When Cub 
 asked him what he was laughing at, he laughed 
 louder, and said, as he drew up to the table, strok- 
 ing Cub's hair, 
 
 " You'll know sometime. Cub," and then he 
 laughed again. For that also was a joke. 
 
 Jack found a detachment of soldiers at Williams- 
 burg and spent the night with them. He had been 
 sick, he said, and had been away from his regiment. 
 They took him into their barracks, and he spent a 
 comfortable night. The next day a guard was to 
 leave for Somerset with a wagon train, and he ac- 
 companied it. It had begun to rain again, and the 
 mud was fathomless. They were three long days 
 on the way, and every night they were wet to the 
 skin. It was late Friday night when they arrived, 
 and on Saturday Jack reported to his regiment. It 
 was hard lines, but the things which cheered him 
 most were the thought that he was going back to 
 fight for the Union, and the memory of John Whit- 
 ley's joke. 
 
 Jack had once or twice had misgivings about his 
 welcome, but he was not prepared for the reception 
 which awaited him. Among the officers of his regi- 
 ment (and the officer of the day, as it happened, that 
 day) was a pompous, rather corpulent, West Point 
 graduate, who had recently been sent to them, and 
 whose soul was vexed, as indeed it had reason to 
 
1 68 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 be, with the lack of discipline among the East 
 Tennessee soldiers and their readiness to drop out 
 of service when, in their judgment, the army had 
 ceased to serve its proper ends. It was unusual to 
 capture a deserter among them, and when one was 
 found, he argued, an example should be made of him. 
 He insisted that Jack should be court-martialled. 
 
 Then it was that Jack stood up in his boots and 
 delivered himself of an oration. 
 
 " 1 hain't a-sayin' that it hain't law," he said, " but 
 I say afore God and men that it hain't right. I fit 
 like a sojer when they was fightin' to do, an' I only 
 run away when the army quit fightin' an' went to 
 runnin', I've ben in prison an' under the gallows 
 fur the sake o' the Union. I've ben shot at an' 
 sick an' starved fur the ole flag. I've ben sent 
 south to die in a rebel prison pen. I've gone 
 through fire an' water to git back. An' I hain't 
 a-goin' to be shot now by the side I come to fight 
 fur. I'm willin' to die fur the Union ef I must, but 
 it hain't no Yankee bullet that's goin' to kill me. 
 I'll appeal to Abe Lincoln. He's a mountain boy, 
 an' has got wild-hog sense, ef he is Pres'daint. I'll 
 appeal to Cun'l Carter. I'm willin' to admit that 
 I'm a returnin' prodigal, an' I hain't astin' to hev no 
 fatted calf killed. But I'll be hanged ef it's Scripter 
 to kill the prodigal to feed the fatted calf" 
 
 Jack had no idea of being personal in his last allu- 
 sion. He could not see what the officers laughed at, 
 nor why the officer of the day colored. Just what 
 would have happened is not certain, had not General 
 Carter, who by this time was a brigadier, entered 
 headquarters. 
 
Jack's Return to his Regiment 169 
 
 " General," said one of tlie officers to whom 
 Carter turned with a look that was a question as 
 to the cause of the immoderate laughter, " this man 
 appeals to you." 
 
 " He is a deserter," said the officer of the day, 
 — "a deserter, who has just been recaptured, and 
 should be court-martialled. He is an insolent fel- 
 low, beside." 
 
 General Carter took a seat and turned to Jack. 
 
 " Well, sir, what have you to say for yourself? " 
 
 " Cun'l Carter, excuse me, Gin'ral," said Jack, 
 " I don't know what these officers is a-laughin' at. 
 But I jes' wanter tell you how it is. I know you, 
 Gin'ral Carter, but I don't guess you remember 
 me. I fit under you at Wild Cat. I never runned 
 away from the enemy, an' I didn't run away from 
 the army till the army turned back at London. 
 Then I was plumb catawampus. I was plumb 
 ashamed to run. I had lef my ole mother all 
 alone in Tennessy, a-watchin' fur us to come through 
 the Gap, an' drive off the rebs. An' when we 
 was ordered back, jes' 'peared lack I couldn't stan' 
 it. I jes' got up an' skedaddled. I got home, but I 
 couldn't stay there, an' I went to hidin' out along o' 
 Parson Brownlow an' some o' the men that burned 
 the bridges, an' the rebs broke up our camp, an' 
 captured a heap o' the men, me an' two of my 
 friends amongst the rest. 
 
 " They tuck us to Knoxville, an' treated us lack 
 beastis, an' they tuck my friends out an' hung 'em. 
 They sentenced me ter hang, too, but Jeff Davis 
 tuck pity on my mother an' let me off, an' they 
 sont me ter go ter Tuscaloosa. I got away, and 
 
ijo A Hero in Homespun 
 
 started back to the army. I got wet an' mighty 
 nigh starved, an' was tuck sick an' had to stop on 
 the way. The day the doctor said I mought come 
 back, I kim. I 'lowed I'd mebby be called up to 
 tell why I didn't stick by the army, but I hadn't 
 no /dy they'd talk about cote-marshallin' me. An' 
 when I got back, atter all I done went through, an' 
 the officer o' the day said I'd gotter be cote-mar- 
 shalled, I jes' tole him I'd went through fire an' 
 water to git back, an' I'd ben shot at an' sick and 
 starved an' mighty nigh hung fur the Union, an' I 
 wasn't a-goin' to be shot by my friends ef I cud help 
 it. That's all. I warn't sassy to him. But Cun'l, 
 I mean Gin'ral, I've told you God's truth. They 
 didn't capture me, no sech thing. The officer he 
 was mistakened. I swear on a stack o' Bibles a 
 mile high, I kim back, all the way from a hundred 
 mile south o' Chattanoogy, whar I escaped from 
 the rebs. I kim back, an' no man never captured 
 me an' fetched me back. An' I tole him 'twarn't 
 Scripter fur me ter be hung." 
 
 " He said. General," said one of the officers, 
 " that it was not according to Scripture to kill the 
 returning prodigal to feed the fatted calf. The 
 officer of the day felt that there was something 
 personal in the allusion." 
 
 The laughter broke out again, and Jack stood 
 unconscious and embarrassed. 
 
 " You may return to your company," said Gen- 
 eral Carter. " The army has better uses for such 
 men than shooting them. The officer of the day 
 is right about punishing deserters. We have been 
 greatly troubled, and have felt that severe measures 
 
Jack's Return to his Regiment 171 
 
 must be taken. But I do not think, and I do not 
 believe that he thinks, now that he has heard your 
 story, that this is the case to begin with. You are 
 a brave man, and I am sure will not desert again. 
 Go to your company and do your duty." 
 
 General Carter rose and offered his hand to Jack. 
 It did not occur to Jack that this was an unusual 
 thing, or one that should have embarrassed him. 
 Rather his embarrassment began to leave him, and 
 he grasped the general's hand with a strong, true 
 grip, and gave it the mountain pump-handle shake, 
 saying : 
 
 " Thank ye, Cun'l. I'm mighty proud to see you 
 a gin'ral. Ef you want anything hard done, jes' 
 send fur me, an' I'm there. I'm mightily obleeged 
 to ye. I knowed you'd understand, fur you're from 
 East Tennessy yerself." 
 
 " That's a noble fellow," said General Carter, as 
 Jack went out. " He has in him the making of a 
 soldier." 
 
XIV 
 
 The Battle of Mill Spring ^ 
 
 IT was a dreary Sunday morning in January. 
 The mud was deep in the roads from Logan's 
 Cross Roads to Somerset, and had been stirred 
 to the consistency of glue by the tramping of 
 the troops, the passage of cavalry, and the deep cut- 
 ting of the artillery, making deeper the ruts that in 
 places were declared to have no bottom. A mule 
 team, the soldiers affirmed, dropped into one and 
 disappeared, all save the ears of the mules. It had 
 rained almost incessantly since the new year, and 
 this was the nineteenth day of the month. The 
 battle which yesterday had seemed imminent, now 
 seemed unlikely to occur for several days ; for the 
 Cumberland separated the armies, and Fishing Creek 
 was swollen full to the tops of the banks. 
 
 Carter had left his position at London, to which 
 he had been returned, and where he kept an eye 
 like that of a mountain wild cat on the Gap, ready 
 to pounce on the rebels whenever they should come 
 out of their holes, and had come without direct orders 
 from Buell, who was now in command, to the help 
 of the army before Mill Spring. For Buell had 
 informed Thomas that his own larger plans must 
 not suffer by sending reinforcements to the minor 
 campaign in the mountains of Kentucky. 
 
 1 Called also the Battle of Fishing Creek and of Logan's Cross Roads. 
 172 
 
The Battle of Mill Spring 173 
 
 The Tennesseeans were creeping out of their 
 damp blankets under the dripping tents and get- 
 ting into their muddy clothes. There was no little 
 grumbling, for their wagons had been kept back by 
 the rain, and rations were short ; but there was little 
 time to cook breakfast. 
 
 Just at daylight, the half-dressed men were sur- 
 prised by the sound of a vigorous attack upon the 
 Kentucky troops near by. The Confederates had 
 made their way down the road to the right, and had 
 fallen first on Wolford's Kentucky horsemen with 
 such suddenness as almost to capture their horses. 
 Behind the cavalry, and next to receive the attack, 
 was Col. Speed S. Fry with his Kentucky infan- 
 try. To protect the exposed wing came Colonel 
 Manson with his loth Indiana, and Van Cleve with 
 the 2d Minnesota. Both these men fought with 
 our friends in later battles as generals. 
 
 Carter's Tennesseeans, two thousand strong, were 
 hurried through the woods to the left, where they 
 took position in the edge of the timber, facing a corn 
 field through which the Confederates were stubbornly 
 fighting their way. In spite of their surprise, and 
 with no superiority in numbers, the Union forces 
 were quickly and effectively placed, commanding 
 three sides of this field. While the Confederates 
 fought with might and main, they were met in front 
 with equal courage, and from either side there poured 
 in upon them a heavy cross-fire. 
 
 The Tennesseeans had just a moment for breath, 
 after taking position, before the battle waxed hot 
 upon the left. The West Point officer, who had 
 wanted to hang Jack, improved that moment by 
 
174 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 showing the men how to transform a rail fence into a 
 series of rude forts with sally ports between. Taking 
 the inner ends of the rails, they moved them inward, 
 pair by pair, beginning with the top, making of the 
 fence a row of triangular pens, breast-high in front, 
 in which the two regiments were distributed. 
 
 " Boys, that West Point officer is good for some- 
 thin', hain't he ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " I'll never say agin that he hain't," said Sergeant 
 Hallet. " This is as good a fort as I want." 
 
 It was a simple device, and one often followed 
 later by both armies, and no stone wall served better 
 in giving confidence to raw men when fortifications 
 must be constructed instantly and under fire. 
 
 " Here they come ! Ready, boys ! " 
 
 Up through the stumps of the cornstalks the 
 Confederates came. They had marched nine miles 
 through the mud and rain. Their powder was wet 
 in many cases, and often guns refused to fire, the 
 soldiers pulling the trigger over and over, and un- 
 able to tell in the noise of battle that the wet load 
 was still in their guns, sometimes ramming down 
 load after load upon the wet powder and impacted 
 ball. Yet there was firing enough, and the woods 
 were soon full of smoke and fog, and the rain kept 
 up its dreary dripping. 
 
 Out of the smoke and fog, a regiment came up 
 against the rail pens, and fought like fiends for pos- 
 session of them. It was a Tennessee regiment, com- 
 manded by another Colonel Carter, and Greek met 
 Greek. 
 
 Twice they came up and fell back. Once they 
 drove the men from the pens, but with a savage 
 
Jack Meets an Old Acquaintance. Page 175. 
 
The Battle of Mill Spring 175 
 
 yell the mountaineers charged and drove them back. 
 Jack, with five companions, regained the pen from 
 which they had been driven, and fired their guns 
 across the rails point-blank into the faces of the 
 enemy. The Confederates wavered and their 
 colonel fell, but that instant a young lieutenant 
 rushed ahead and rallied them, leading them to 
 the very line of the fence. There was not a loaded 
 gun in the pen where Jack stood, but Jack seized 
 his gun by the muzzle and with its clubbed breech 
 struck at the officer's head. The lieutenant sprang 
 aside and threw up his sword to ward off the blow. 
 The sword arm received its full force, and the sword 
 fell from his hand. He fell to the ground and was 
 up again in a minute, his right arm hanging painful 
 and useless. He took the sword in his left hand, 
 and attempted to lead on the charge, but the fire 
 from front and flank was more than flesh could 
 bear. He reeled as he turned, and two men sup- 
 ported him as he was borne to the rear. Yet in 
 that single instant, while Jack's gun was falling 
 upon the upraised arm, he and Sam Marshall 
 recognized each other. 
 
 The nominal leader of the Confederates in this 
 battle was General Crittenden, but the man whom 
 the soldiers trusted was Zollicofi^er. Crittenden was 
 declared to have left Mill Springs drunk, and the 
 men under him protested against his commanding. 
 But they were willing to fight under their old leader, 
 who was second in command, for ZoUicoft'er was a 
 good, true man, and they trusted him. The one 
 thing needed then to make complete their discom- 
 fiture occurred in the death of ZoUicoffer. 
 
176 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 The soldiers affirmed that Colonel Fry shot him, 
 and sang a doggerel song which said, — 
 
 "Up jumped Colonel Fry, 
 And shot him in the eye. 
 And sent him to the happy land of Canaan." 
 
 But the tale told on the ground for many years was 
 that old Jack Christian had started out that morning 
 with his squirrel rifle on his shoulder to go to the 
 house of a neighbor, and found himself unexpectedly 
 between the armies. Making the best of his way 
 out, he was near to escaping at the Union left, when 
 a horseman bore down upon him through the fog. 
 Confused and alarmed, he drew his gun to his 
 shoulder and fired, and Fry, charging with his men 
 a moment later, found dead in the dripping woods 
 the real commander of the Confederates. Whether 
 this was true or not. Jack Christian believed it true, 
 and later became insane, brooding over his killing of 
 so good a general. 
 
 It was useless fighting after the Confederates knew 
 that ZoUicoffer was killed. Fatigued and hungry, 
 depleted and discouraged, they broke and retreated, 
 but halted at a ravine a short distance back, and made 
 one more stand. It was a forlorn hope. The ar- 
 tillery, which up to this time had taken little part in 
 the fight, opened fire, and the Union infantry bore 
 down upon them, with Wolford's daring cavalry. 
 They broke again, and this time hopelessly. They 
 ran through the mud and rain, demoralized and 
 breathless. They threw away their guns, and then 
 their haversacks. Thev abandoned their cannon, and 
 left their way strewn with dead and wounded, and 
 
The Battle of Mill Spring 177 
 
 every kind of baggage. They ran to Mill Spring, 
 nine miles, through mud of fathomless depth, and 
 rain that never ceased falling. The camp was soon 
 alive with shells, which Thomas sent flying after 
 them. They left the camp. They left their cannon 
 mounted. They left their provisions and camp uten- 
 sils. Wet and weary, without food or shelter, and 
 already dropping with fatigue, they started through 
 the wilderness into Tennessee, some to perish by the 
 way, and others to arrive at Knoxville, the shattered 
 remnant of what had once been a splendid army. 
 General Sherman proved to have been right in his 
 estimate that two hundred thousand men would be 
 needed for offensive warfare in the army of the 
 Cumberland : the mistake was in assuming that 
 these must all come from the North because of the 
 solid disloyalty of the South. Zollicoffer, after the 
 most desperate exertions, had enlisted few Ken- 
 tuckians. But of the seven infantry regiments that 
 drove back his army, three only were from the 
 North. The other four, besides Wolford's dashing 
 and fearless horsemen, were from the loyal South, 
 — the 1st and id Tennessee, and the 4th and loth 
 Kentucky. 
 
 Throughout the country there rang a shout of 
 joy. It was the first decisive engagement of the 
 West. It proved that the smaller victory at the 
 Wild Cat Mountain had been no accident. The 
 soldiers sang with savage triumph, — 
 
 ** ZoUicofFer's dead. 
 And the last words he said 
 Were, 'Here's another Wild Cat a-coming ! ' " 
 
lyS A Hero in Homespun 
 
 The people of the North who had been wearied and 
 discouraged by delays about Washington, took heart 
 again at this small, but decisive and important, vic- 
 tory. Had it been promptly followed up, the results 
 might have been even more important than they were. 
 General Thomas was himself surprised by the mag- 
 nitude of his victory. He had been quite content 
 with the thought of driving back the rebels. When 
 Colonel Fry asked him afterward, why he had not fol- 
 lowed his advantage with a demand for the surrender 
 of the entire army, he thought awhile,and answered, — 
 " Hang it. Fry, I never once thought of it ! " 
 It was the more of a pity that omniscience should 
 not have been joined to the omnipotence which the 
 soldiers attributed to General Thomas. They had 
 great faith in his ability to give orders and secure 
 obedience, and they long repeated how the turning- 
 point of the battle had been his rising in his stirrups 
 and shouting, 
 
 " Attention, Creation ! By kingdoms, right wheel ! " 
 But if Thomas, who was slow as well as sure, 
 underestimated the importance of an immediate for- 
 ward movement, still more did Buell,^ who in plan- 
 
 1 "Executive Mansion, Washington, January 6, 1862. 
 
 "My Dear Sir : — Your despatch of yesterday has been received, and it disap- 
 points and distresses me. . . . My distress is that our friends in East Tennessee are 
 being hanged and driven to despair, and even now I fear are thinking of taking rebel 
 arms for the sake of personal protection. In this we lose the most valuable stake 
 we have in the South. My despatch to which yours is an answer was sent with 
 the knowledge of Senator Johnson and Representative Maynard, of East Tennessee, 
 and they will be upon me to know the answer, which I cannot safely show them. 
 They would despair ; possibly resign to go and save their families somehow or die 
 with them. 
 
 " I do not intend this to be an order in any sense, but merely, as intimated before, 
 to show you the grounds of my anxiety. 
 
 "Yours, very truly, A. Lincoln. 
 
 "Brigadier-General Buell." 
 
The Battle of Mill Spring 179 
 
 ning the larger operations toward the Mississippi, 
 had little strength to spare for what he counted a 
 wholly minor effort on behalf of East Tennessee. 
 The roads were almost impassable, the Confederates 
 had fled, and there was no immediate call for advance, 
 which was, indeed, extremely difficult, on account of 
 the constant rain and the condition of the roads and 
 streams. 
 
 Late on Monday, Jack's company was pushed 
 across the Cumberland to Mill Spring. The Con- 
 federate camp was already in possession of the Union 
 soldiers. Jack was detailed to assist in the burial of 
 the dead, and he looked among them for men he 
 knew, and was glad not to find Sam Marshall there. 
 He went to the hospitals, and did not find him. 
 But a young woman who lived on Mill Spring Hill, 
 and whose home had been used for Zollicoffer's 
 headquarters, gave him some information about the 
 man whom he had struck. When the surgeons first 
 arrived at the camp, and began their work among 
 the wounded, she was required, in the absence of 
 other help, to assist them. The surgeons from the 
 two armies met in friendship, and attended to men 
 as they came to them, without distinction of rank 
 or side. It was a Union surgeon whom she was 
 assisting, and he came to a young Confederate officer 
 suffering from a fracture of the right arm, which had 
 been greatly aggravated by his nine miles' retreat. 
 He was eager to be attended to, and in need of 
 immediate assistance. Yet he scornfully refused the 
 Union surgeon's aid, and waited for a Confederate. 
 A few bitter-spirited men on both sides, she said, 
 had done the same. The surgeon with a curse had 
 
i8o A Hero in Homespun 
 
 left him, and it was long before a Confederate sur- 
 geon came to his help. By that time the work of 
 the surgeon she had been helping was over. It 
 was well toward morning, she said, and she was 
 coming with water, when the physician, seeing her 
 pass, stopped her for a moment, and asked her to 
 hold the ends of the splints while he put on the 
 bandages. The wounded man was suffering greatly, 
 and spoke most bitterly of his wound, and of the 
 man who had struck him, whom he said he recog- 
 nized, and he would have his life to pay for it. She 
 remembered him well, — a tall, handsome fellow, with 
 flashing black eyes and courage like a lion, but with a 
 spirit so bitter that she shrank from him, even while 
 gladly helping him. The officer was a prisoner, but 
 was so badly wounded that he was not guarded. 
 When he got away she did not know, but in the 
 morning he was gone. Having told Jack this story, 
 the young woman appealed to him for help. 
 
 " We are loyal," she said. " My father is in 
 Thomas' army, and now will surely come to us. 
 We have suffered from the rebels, but have been 
 protected by them. We have looked forward to 
 this day with hope and prayer. Now the Union 
 soldiers that have come to our house scorn our 
 professions of loyalty. They treat us worse than 
 the rebels did. We are almost starved for want of 
 food. They have eaten all we have. You are a 
 Southern man, and know that there are loyal people 
 in the South. Secure us protection till my father 
 comes." 
 
 There was many a woman in the South who 
 made the same appeal during the four long years 
 
The Battle of Mill Spring 
 
 i«i 
 
 of the war. Some spoke untruly and were believed, 
 and abused their trust. But some, alas ! spoke 
 truly and were not believed. And there is no sad- 
 der tale that is told to-day by those who lived in 
 the South during the four years of horror, than that 
 of loyal people suffering at the hands of those who 
 should have been their protectors. 
 
 "I'm done with my work," said Jack, "an' I've 
 got nothin' to do till my reg'maint comes up. I'll 
 stand on guard afore this door, miss, an' ef ary man 
 tries to cross the threshold without right or leave, 
 I'll put a bullet through his skin, whether it's cov- 
 ered with blue or with but' nut." 
 
 " Thank you," said the young woman's mother, 
 as she came to the door, and Jack explained his 
 mission, and the daughter enlarged upon his kind 
 offer. " Thank you ; I am glad that some men in 
 the Union army know that there are loyal people 
 in the South." 
 
 A few hours later. Jack's regiment came up, and 
 with it came also the owner of the house. With a 
 cry of joy, the women embraced him after months 
 of separation and danger, and when they told him 
 of Jack's kindness, and the father turned to thank 
 him, Jack had gone. 
 
 Note. — I am constrained to add to this chapter a quotation from Parson 
 Brownlow concerning General Zollicoffer : 
 
 "He was a man who never wronged an individual out of a cent in his life; 
 never told a lie in his life ; as brave a man personally as Andrew Jackson ever was ; 
 and the only mean thing I ever knew him to do was to join the Southern 
 Confederacy. 
 
XV 
 
 A Duel in the Dark 
 
 ALL this while Knoxville was quivering with 
 excitement. The officers who had fought 
 at Mill Spring — Crittenden, ZoUicoffer, 
 Carroll, and Wood — had all been in au- 
 thority in Knoxville, and were well known in the 
 city. Most of the troops had passed through 
 Knoxville on their way to the field. When the 
 broken fragments of the army came back, dripping, 
 starving, and terrified, with the news of Zollicoffer's 
 death and the disaster that had hopelessly befallen 
 the army, the city went wild. The Confederates 
 expected an instant advance that would compel 
 the surrender of the city ; and the loyal people, 
 who were becoming depleted, rejoiced greatly. But 
 General Buell, tried by the lack of discipline and 
 constant annoyance of his raw troops, feared to 
 undertake such an expedition under the conditions 
 which then existed. So Thomas was ordered to 
 join Buell's main army ; and Carter, the watch-dog 
 of the Gap, returned to his old station at London. 
 There Carter went into winter quarters. The 
 soldiers were quartered all about in the moun- 
 tains, guarding the different roads, making occa- 
 sional raids upon the Confederate outposts, and 
 subsisting as best they were able on the barren 
 country. It was hard for the soldiers, and not less 
 
A Duel in the Dark 183 
 
 so for the people. The roads were so bad as almost 
 to cut them off from their base of supplies. From 
 Crab Orchard the streams were past fording much 
 of the time, and in the brief intervals of their subsi- 
 dence, the roads were so gullied out by the rains, 
 and so steep and rocky beside, as to be well-nigh 
 impassable. Desperate were the efforts to relieve 
 them. It was said that one might have walked on 
 dead mules from London to Crab Orchard, and still 
 the troops nearly starved. Scurvy broke out among 
 them. The loth Indiana, out of its nine hundred 
 men, had but two hundred fit for duty by spring. 
 
 The soldiers broke over all attempts at discipline, 
 and foraged and stole without mercy. The poor 
 Union people of the region, who had suffered from 
 small crops because their sons and husbands were 
 in the army, and had been once pillaged by the 
 rebels, had now to suffer even worse plundering, 
 because of direr need, at the hands of their own 
 friends. 
 
 Jack escaped all this. Soon after their return to 
 London, he found himself one morning unable to 
 rise. The camp surgeon, who came to see him, 
 said : 
 
 " You're in for a run of fever, and the hospital is 
 full. You couldn't get home, could you ? " 
 
 " Not home," said Jack ; " but ef I had a horse 
 and some one to go with me, I reckon I might get 
 to some sorter kinfolks o' mine at Roundstone." 
 
 " I'll get you a furlough," said the surgeon, " and 
 see about a horse." 
 
 It was a hard day's ride, but the weather was 
 clear and cool, and Jack was nerved to the fatigue 
 
184 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 by the prospect of a home and a bed. He had 
 often to rest by the way, but just in the dusk of 
 evening Jack, and his companion, Sam Loomis, 
 passed through the Oxyoke Gap and drew rein 
 before the house of John Whitley. 
 
 "Hello, thar ! Who's thar ? 'Light an' come 
 in ! " called John. 
 
 Jack and Sam made their way to the door, and 
 Jack sank wearily into a chair before the fire, his 
 face flushed with fever, and his hands shaking with 
 fatigue. 
 
 " Hit's a bad penny come back," said he, with a 
 faint attempt at a joke. 
 
 " I see, I see ! " replied John, heartily, " an' come 
 back wus'n wut it was wen it went away. Git off 
 yer duds now, an' git inter thet bed, an' I'll see 
 wut I kin do fur ye. Se' down thar, young man, 
 tell I git this feller inter bed, an' I'll go with ye 
 an' putt out the beastis." 
 
 As they were going out soon after to attend to 
 the horses, John hailed a passing neighbor, and 
 asked him to send word to Dr. Culvert that he 
 was needed. Then they put the horses in the 
 barn, and gave them some " roughness," as John 
 called the bundles of blade fodder, and produced 
 from a place of concealment ten short ears of corn, 
 which he divided between them. 
 
 "Hit tain't 'nough," said he; "but a company 
 of sojers passed through here a spell ago, an' didn't 
 leave us much for ourselves, let alone the bosses." 
 
 " Which army ? " 
 
 " The Lincoln army. That was the wust on it. 
 They was hungry, I reckon, an' so was their bosses. 
 
A Duel in the Dark 185 
 
 an' they needed wut they could git, but they mought 
 a ben a leetle mite more human about it. Hit's 
 sorter hard to take sass from yer friends, an' be 
 called an ole reb wen yer mighty nigh starvin' fur 
 the Union, an' got three sons bein' shot at in the 
 Union army." 
 
 It was late in the night when Dr. Culvert arrived. 
 Low as was his store of quinine, he administered it 
 to Jack. 
 
 " He'll pull through all right," he said, " an' he 
 wouldn't a ben sick at all ef he'd a stayed here, an' 
 not went back to the army fur a few weeks. But 
 he hain't a-goin' to be much sick, though he won't 
 do no more fightin' till spring." 
 
 From time to time he called, and found Jack 
 " runnin' along" with the fever which, after three 
 weeks, broke and left him weak and convalescent. 
 During this time Jennie was the most faithful of 
 nurses, and Cub was constantly trotting in and out, 
 devoted to his guardian, and asking daily, — 
 
 "Ain't you well yet? Well, when is you goin' 
 to get well ? " 
 
 At the close of a fortnight, Ephraim Whitley 
 came home from his regiment on a furlough. There 
 was little to do, he reported, and provisions were 
 short, and they were glad enough to have some of 
 the men at home. He and Jack, already firm 
 friends, rejoiced to meet in Ephraim's home, and 
 together they passed more cheerfully the weary 
 days of Jack's convalescence. 
 
 One night in March, when Jack was getting to 
 feel almost himself again, and Ephraim was prepar- 
 ing to return, a stranger called and asked for a 
 
1 86 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 night's entertainment for himself and horse, which 
 was readily granted. John went out with him to 
 put his horse into the barn, and the stranger asked 
 permission to bring into the house a heavy sack 
 which he had been carrying behind his saddle. 
 
 " Hit'll be all right here," said John, " but fetch it 
 inter the house ef yer wanter. Wut yer got in it ? " 
 
 "Salt," said the stranger. "I've ben to the salt 
 works at Manchester, an' I'm a-takin' two bushel 
 o' salt to my folks down in Tennessy." 
 
 There was nothing unusual in this ; but precious 
 as salt was, the place that was safe enough for the 
 horses, which in all pioneer countries are the most 
 valued of chattels, was safe enough for the salt. 
 
 " Fetch hit in, ef you'll feel any easier about it," 
 said John. " Hello, Eph ! Come out an' give this 
 man a lift with his bag o' salt." 
 
 "You needn't mind. I kin pack hit," said the 
 stranger. 
 
 He carried the salt into the living-room, though 
 John rather plainly hinted that it would be less in 
 the way in the kitchen, and set it down in the corner 
 farthest from the door, and threw his overcoat upon 
 it. Then he turned to greet Eph, who was sitting 
 by the fire, and Jack, who was lying in his clothes 
 upon the bed. He started visibly at their uniforms, 
 and said : 
 
 " Ah, sojers, I see ! I didn't know as they was 
 ary sojer round this holler ? " 
 
 " They hain't many," said John ; " but a heap has 
 gone from here to the war. These is my boys, one 
 on 'em my own boy an' t'other sorter kinfolks. I 
 got two more boys in the army." 
 
A Duel in the Dark 187 
 
 The stranger, not without some appearance of 
 constraint, began a profuse and unstinted com- 
 mendation of John for sending his sons to the 
 field, and a profession of loyalty to the govern- 
 ment. It was so earnest that it quite compelled 
 their admiration, and drew out John's heartiest hos- 
 pitahty. Eph, too, found himself warming to the 
 stranger, but Jack lay with closed eyes, listening and 
 saying nothing. 
 
 John took the stranger into the kitchen for sup- 
 per, and Eph would have gone with him, but Jack 
 motioned him back. 
 
 " Eph," said he, " they's somethin' wrong with 
 that feller. You watch him mighty close. You 
 see that he sleeps in the loft to-night, an' we'll 
 see wut's in that sack." 
 
 " Why, wut do ye think ? " 
 
 " I don' know. But I'm dead sure he's a spy 
 or a smuggler, one. He's got somethin' inside 
 that bag besides salt." 
 
 Supper being ended, the stranger sat in the chim- 
 ney-corner, and entertained them long with his sto- 
 ries. He was genial, and had a hearty laugh, which 
 to Jack seemed a trifle strained. At length he said 
 he was tired, and if they didn't mind he believed 
 he'd lie down. 
 
 " I'll show ye to the loft," said Eph, and took 
 a candle. 
 
 " Ef ye don' mind, I'd a leetle mite druther sleep 
 by the far. I got a tech o' rheumatiz, an' I'd jes' a 
 leetle mite druther sleep down stairs, that is, ef hit's 
 jes' as convenient." 
 
 John started to say that it would be just as con- 
 
1 88 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 venlent, but stopped when he saw that Eph knew 
 what he was doing. 
 
 " Well, I'm sorry, but hit tain't right convenient 
 fur ye to sleep down here. You see my friend here 
 hain't got well yit, an' I sleep with him to look atter 
 him, an' pa's gittin' sorter old, an' we don' like to 
 send him up stairs." 
 
 This was dangerously near a lie, for John would 
 have resented being considered an old man, and he 
 often slept in the loft. 
 
 " That needn't make no difference. Jes' let me 
 sleep with him," said the stranger. " I'm used to 
 double-teamin'." 
 
 " No, they hain't no use o' that," said Eph. 
 "You kin jes' as well hev a bed to yerself," and 
 he led the way to the loft. 
 
 John Whitley began to see that all was not right. 
 While Eph was up stairs with the stranger, he sought 
 an explanation from Jack, who told him of his 
 suspicions. 
 
 " Shore enough," said John. " They hain't no 
 manner o' doubt of it. We'll see wut's in thet 
 sack." 
 
 They partially undressed and lay upon the beds. 
 The fire had been covered, and the room was dark. 
 At a signal from Jack, Eph rose and blew the coals 
 enough to light the wick of a candle, which he 
 handed to Jack, and then took down two guns from 
 the forks above the fire, and gave one to his father, 
 taking the other himself Carefully walking in their 
 stockings over the creaking floor, they gathered about 
 the sack. Eph set down his gun and drew the ram- 
 rod, and then untied the sack. Jack held the light 
 
A Duel in the Dark 189 
 
 in one hand and the mouth of the sack in the other, 
 while Eph with his left hand held the opposite side 
 of the bag, and with his right thrust the rod deep 
 into the salt. 
 
 " I've hit suthin'," he said, and baring his arm, 
 followed the ramrod down into the bag, and brought 
 up a package wrapped in paper. 
 
 " They's more," said he, " but less see what's in 
 this." 
 
 They stood about it while Eph untied the string, 
 and was about to unwrap it, when suddenly there 
 came a pistol shot from the head of the ladder, and 
 John Whitley fell, mortally wounded, on the floor 
 of his own house. 
 
 With a cry of surprise and anger, Eph and Jack 
 turned toward the assassin, and as they did so, a 
 bullet passed over them and lodged in the log wall 
 of the house. The murderer was making for the 
 door with all speed. Eph seized him midway, and 
 Jack dropped the candle to take up a gun, and the 
 light went out. 
 
 Eph seized the stranger's hand, as it was levelled 
 to shoot again, and threw it up, with the pistol in 
 it. Then they struggled in the dark for posses- 
 sion of the weapon, and each for the other's life. 
 It took less than a minute, but it seemed a night. 
 Jack turned to the fireplace, and tried to light the 
 candle, but could not blow the coals into flame. 
 Just then the kitchen door flew open, and Jennie 
 stood in the door with a light and Cub holding to 
 her wrapper, and at that instant the pistol, held by 
 the two struggling men, went off^ while pointed up- 
 ward, and the murderer fell, shot under the chin. 
 
190 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 Jennie cast herself upon her father's body, weep- 
 ing and lamenting. Jack gently led her away, and 
 he and Eph got him on the bed. He was not 
 bleeding greatly externally, but had been shot in 
 the side at a downward angle through both lungs, 
 which were rapidly filling with blood from internal 
 hemorrhage. Eph went for Dr. Culvert, and he 
 soon came, but nothing could be done. The mur- 
 derer had died instantly, and John Whitley had 
 passed away before the doctor came. They laid 
 out the two bodies in the same room, the father 
 on the bed, the murderer on the floor where he 
 had fallen, and they covered the one with a sheet, 
 and the other with the coat which he had thrown 
 over the bag, and sadly, tearfully, and with a sicken- 
 ing sense of horror, waited for the day. 
 
 " Less see what he was a-smugglin'," said the 
 doctor, and completed the undoing of the package. 
 
 " Quinine ! " he said, as he laid six one-ounce 
 bottles on the table. 
 
 There were ten of those packages, sixty ounces 
 in all, in the bag, and the stranger was smuggling 
 them south to the fever-stricken soldiers of the 
 Confederacy. There was nothing for which men 
 ran greater risks. Many a man lost his life in an 
 effort to convey to the south the fever-soothing 
 drug. Dr. Culvert kept one package for himself, 
 and Eph and Jack took the other fifty-four ounces 
 to the Union camp. It was welcome in both places, 
 but it had cost the lives of two men, and one ot 
 them was as true a patriot as ever gave his life tor 
 his country. 
 
 Besides the great loss of life in the two armies, 
 
A Duel in the Dark 191 
 
 East Tennessee lost an estimated aggregate of twenty- 
 five hundred Union men during the war. Some of 
 them were put to death by military tribunals. Some 
 died in Southern prisons for conscience' sake. Some 
 were shot in guerilla warfare, outlaws but patriots, 
 some were assassinated, and some fell defending their 
 homes and their loved ones against assault. All 
 the border States suffered in like manner. Some of 
 the men who fell deserved their fate, being despera- 
 does and using the war as the occasion for plunder. 
 But among the rest were not a few who died as 
 bravely and as worthily as John Whitley. 
 
XVI 
 
 If Thine Enemy Hunger 
 
 THE winter of 1 861-2 departed from the 
 Cumberland Mountains, " unwept, un- 
 honored, and unsung." There was cheer- 
 ing news from Forts Henry and Donelson, 
 and Andrew Johnson was at Nashville as military 
 governor. That was something to be thankful for. 
 But it was, after all, discouraging to see how little 
 good it did to the people in the eastern part of the 
 State. It left them one less thing to hope for. 
 There was good news from the Mississippi and the 
 Big Sandy, but these were somewhat vague and 
 remote regions ; and so far as the mountain people 
 had heard of outside military movements, they were 
 those of McClellan, whom they had come to hold 
 in the highest esteem. Almost entirely overlook- 
 ing intervening operations, they watched eagerly 
 'for news from " Little Mac," and not even their 
 own sorrows depressed them more than his inaction 
 and reverses. It is a thing almost to be wondered at, 
 but it is declared on the best of evidence, that the 
 failure of McClellan's peninsular campaign was the 
 most discouraging news that, in all the history of 
 the war, saddened the hearts of the mountaineers. 
 
 Elizabeth Casey lived a quiet, and for the most 
 part an uneventful, life. Having few home duties, 
 she was in demand as a nurse for the sick, and 
 
 192 
 
If Thine Enemy Hunger 193 
 
 found abundant occupation that winter. She 
 watched eagerly for the news, and gave herself to 
 the careful study of the routes by which the army 
 was moving, or might move, for the sake of follow- 
 ing the wanderings of her soldier boy, and for the 
 pleasure of the occupation and the participation 
 which it seemed to afford in actual military life. 
 She studied such maps as could be found at the 
 court-house of the topography of the region around 
 Cumberland Gap, at first to assist her imaginings 
 of the routes by which the soldiers would come into 
 Tennessee, and later, as she found herself attaining 
 a degree of knowledge of the subject, with the hope 
 that it might some time be of service. Conversa- 
 tion — and there was ample time for it, and the old 
 people who had travelled most about the mountains 
 had most desire to talk and hope and conjecture — 
 enlarged her knowledge. 
 
 She had a mind that was active, and a will that 
 was strong, and at times she imagined herself- 
 riding over the mountains to her boy, if he 
 should be wounded, or to save him from threatened 
 danger. 
 
 One morning toward the end of January she 
 heard a faint voice outside her door, and hastily 
 opening it, found on the rude stone step that led up 
 to the porch a Confederate soldier. For a moment 
 she shrank back, and then drew near, for she saw 
 that the man was not drunken, as at first she had 
 thought, but wounded and had fainted. 
 
 She drew him into the house, and dashed water 
 in his face, and as he began to show signs of return- 
 ing life, she gave him stimulants, and got him upon 
 
194 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 the bed. All the time it seemed to her that she 
 knew him, but who he was she could not remember. 
 
 " Give me something to eat," he pleaded. " I'm 
 'most starved." 
 
 She made him some gruel, and he took it and 
 fell asleep. That day and the next she kept him, 
 allowing him to talk little, caring for his shattered 
 arm, and nursing him back to strength. 
 
 " I don' har'ly know as I ought to do it," she 
 said ; " but pore boy, ef he is a rebel, he's got a ma." 
 
 On the morning of the third day, he raised him- 
 self in bed, and said : 
 
 " I'm goin' to dress me, an' go home. You've 
 saved my life, an' I'm mighty thankful." 
 
 " Don' go till yer able," she said. " Besides, I 
 want you to tell me now about the war. You come 
 from Kaintuck ? Has they ben a fight ? " 
 
 " Yes, they has," said he. " They was a big 
 fight at Mill Spring." 
 
 " Tell me about it," said she. 
 
 " We got licked," said he. " Thomas licked us 
 awful. We had to leave our dead an' wounded, an' 
 run. Zollicoffer's dead. Our boys are scattered 
 all the way from here to the Kentuckv line. The 
 most have gone to Knoxville, but Knoxville has got 
 to go now. They warn't no use o' me a-goin' there, 
 so 1 started thisaway towards home. I live about 
 six mile across the Holston from here. I ought to 
 know you, but I ain't been in this cove often, though 
 I know a right smart o' people over thisaway." 
 
 " I thank God ye got licked," said she. " I'm 
 heart an' soul agin this wicked rebellion. I hope 
 this is the end o' hit." 
 
If Thine Enemy Hunger 195 
 
 "You're Union?" he asked. "You're kind, 
 though. I've passed some houses where they set 
 the dogs on me because I was a reb. They'd have 
 taken me prisoner, ef they dared, and give me up 
 to the Union army." 
 
 " You needn't have no fear o' me," she said. 
 " They hain't no Union army here to give ye up 
 to. I won't do ye no harm. I'm bein' good to 
 ye for my boy's sake that's in the Union army. 
 Mebby some rebel woman that's got a boy in the 
 war mought be good to him some time for her boy's 
 sake. Now you mustn't talk no more. Jes' lay 
 down an' rest to-day an' to-night." 
 
 " I'll rest a spell this mornin'," he said. " I 
 ain't har'ly able to get on. But before night I can 
 get over to some friends o' mine that live less'n two 
 mile from here, an' stay there to-night, an' by 
 mornin' I can git home." 
 
 He rested that day, and toward evening rose and 
 found himself able to stand and walk a little. 
 
 " I'll be a-goin' now," he said. " I'll take it easy, 
 and git acrost to my friends by dark. God bless 
 ye for what you've done for me. You've saved my 
 life. We must be friends now, ef we are on differ- 
 ent sides. I'll have to be 'round home a spell now. 
 Some day I'll ride over when I get strong. Seems 
 hke I ought to know you, anyhow." 
 
 "'Pears like I ought to know you, too," said she, 
 "but I can't somehow place ye. I'm right sure I've 
 seed you afore ye had a beard, an' when you wasn't 
 so pale. That makes a right smart o' difference." 
 
 " My name's Marshall," said he, " Dr. Sam 
 Marshall." 
 
196 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " Sam Marshall ! " she cried. " Be you the man 
 that got some one to swear away the life o' my boy ? 
 Be you the man that sent my boy south to die ? " 
 
 " Good Lord, woman, who are you ? " he cried, 
 a suspicion of the truth crossing his mind. 
 
 " I'm Elizabeth Casey, Jack Casey's mother. 
 An' you're the man that got old Pete Stevens to 
 swear that my boy helped burn the bridges. You 
 villain ! You perjurer ! You lyin' scamp ! I wisht 
 I'd a lef ye to die on my door-step afore I saved 
 the life o' the man that tried to murder my boy ! " 
 
 Sam steadied himself by the post of the porch, 
 and began speaking thickly, — 
 
 " I'll tell you two things. Mis' Casey. One is, I 
 didn't git no one to swear false against your boy. 
 Leastwise, not as I know of. I hunted up what 
 ev'dence I could find, and when Pete Stevens said 
 he seen a man near there that favored the man I 
 described as Jack, I had him taken to Knoxville, 
 an' he identified Jack as the man. I hain't a-sayin' 
 he was right or wrong. I hain't a-sayin' I wasn't 
 glad to find him an' get his ev'dence. But I swear 
 on the Holy Bible I never bribed no man to swear 
 a lie. That's one thing I got to tell you. There's 
 another thing. Yer boy ain't south in jail. He's 
 got out. I don' know how, and I don' know when. 
 But I seen him plain as I see you in the battle o' 
 Mill Spring. He's the man that broke my arm, 
 an' I've swore to have his life for it. 
 
 " I'll tell you another thing. Ef I'd a knowed 
 you lived here, I'd a died afore I'd a tuck a crust 
 from you, or crossed the threshold o' his door. I 
 was so weak an' faint night afore las', I hardly 
 
If Thine Enemy Hunger 197 
 
 knowed where I was at, an' I ain't right well ac- 
 quainted over here anyhow. I knowed I mus' be 
 nigh the Hansons, an' I didn't dast to go there. I 
 tried to git two miles furder to where 1 know some 
 folks that would have taken care o' me. I knowed 
 they'd see me five miles furder an' at home as soon 
 as I could go. But I give out, an' had to stop. 
 I'd a died afore I' a taken a pinch o' yer salt. But 
 that can't be helped now. As to yer boy, I've 
 swore to God I'll kill him when I see him, an' I 
 never broke no promise I ever made, an' I hain't 
 a-goin' to break one I swear to." 
 
 Weak as he was his cheek flushed. He gathered 
 strength and started toward the road. Elizabeth 
 ran back into the house and pulled up a loose board 
 in the floor. From a hiding-place below she drew 
 out Jack's long gun that had been his father's. Sam 
 was out of the yard, and starting weakly down the 
 road when she got to the fence, and levelled the gun 
 across it. 
 
 " Stop ! " she cried. 
 
 He stopped and turned back. 
 
 " Sam Marshall," she cried, " ef I'd a knowed 
 you was the man ye be, I don' know whether I'd 
 a let ye die on my step or not. But one thing I 
 know. No man is a-goin' out o' this yard alive 
 a-swearin' to kill my boy. I've give my only son 
 to this war. I've put him where he has to stand 
 an' be shot at by men sech as you. I've seed him 
 right under the shadder of the gallows for the love 
 he has for the flag, and the love his mother has that 
 let him fight for it. An' now, Sam Marshall, as 
 God's in heaven above us, ef you don't take back 
 
198 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 that wicked oath, an' promise that if ever ye see 
 my boy in trouble you'll do for him what I've done 
 for you, then I'll put a bullet through yer heart, 
 and God judge between you an' the mother that 
 kills ye to keep ye from murderin' her boy ! " 
 
 Sam Marshall was no coward, but there are few 
 men who face certain death in passion without wav- 
 ering. A moment he hesitated. 
 
 " Speak quick ! " she cried, and she raised the ham- 
 mer of the gun. 
 
 "Let me think," he asked. " It's a mighty hard 
 thing to decide." 
 
 " Say quick what yer goin' to do !" she cried, and 
 he heard the click as she set the double trigger. 
 
 "I'll promise," said he, "I'll never do yer boy 
 no harm ef I can help it, doin' my duty." 
 
 " You'll be a friend to him ? " she demanded. 
 
 " Yes, I will, God help me ! " 
 
 "Then go," she said; "an' ef you ever break 
 this promise that ye make to-day, a mother's curse 
 and the blood of a murdered son rest on your soul 
 forever." 
 
 She lowered the hammer of the rifle and returned 
 to the house, and Sam Marshall walked feebly down 
 the road and was lost to sight. 
 
XVII 
 Parson Brownlow's Release 
 
 WHAT are you doing there, you villain ? " 
 demanded Parson Brownlow through 
 the bars. 
 
 " Washin' my face. Didn't ye think 
 hit would look purtier ef hit was washed ? " 
 
 "It was black enough, but your soul is blacker. 
 Don't you know that we have to drink the water 
 from that hogshead ? " 
 
 " Well, sir, I'll have you to know that the water 
 where a Jeff Davis soldier washes his face is plenty 
 good enough for any Lincoln screamer or bridge- 
 burner to drink ! " replied the soldier. 
 
 " The time will come," retorted Brownlow, " when 
 you will lift up your eyes in hell, being tormented 
 in the flame, and will plead for a drop of water on 
 the tip of your tongue ! " 
 
 There was no wav to remedy the abuse but by 
 protest. Parson Brownlow was capable of so vigor- 
 ous a use of the English tongue as to be a terror 
 to evil-doers, even when in full power. He had, 
 moreover, the ability when he was righteously in- 
 dignant, to use Scripture in a way that added to its 
 sanctity all the effectiveness of ordinary profanity. 
 Thus he kept up the spirits of the prisoners, and 
 soon proved a white elephant on the hands of the 
 prison authorities. 
 
 199 
 
200 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 Moreover, he got access to the papers, and pub- 
 lished far and wide the fact that he had returned 
 to Knoxville under the written promise of General 
 Crittenden, by authority of Secretary Benjamin, that 
 he should have a pass out of the Confederacy. He 
 did not choose with any misguided notion of respect 
 for those in authority, the words in which he charged 
 the Confederate government with breach of faith in 
 the matter. General Crittenden felt the force of 
 these charges against his honor, and so did the Con- 
 federate secretary of war. Moreover, Brownlow 
 dipped his pen in the gall of his most biting sarcasm, 
 and published articles which represented him as 
 rather enjoying an experiment which his imprison- 
 ment permitted him to make. He was anxious to 
 know, he said, which was the higher authority in 
 the Confederacy, the secretary of war and a major 
 general on the one hand, or a dirty little drunken 
 attorney, such as the man who had caused his im- 
 prisonment. He wrote as much to Secretary Ben- 
 jamin at Richmond, and added, — 
 
 " Just give me my passports, and I will do for 
 your Confederacy more than the devil has ever done, 
 — I will quit the country!" 
 
 At times Brownlow, whose health suffered in jail, 
 believed that he would die in prison, and at other 
 times he believed that he would certainly be hanged. 
 He composed a speech to be delivered under the 
 gallows, and afterward published it as a statement of 
 his principles. 
 
 Secretary Benjamin was a good deal disturbed by 
 these matters. He wrote to Knoxville that he felt 
 that his official promise, while not intended to be a 
 
Parson Brownlow's Release 201 
 
 protection against legal action, had so compromitted 
 the honor of the Confederate government that if 
 Brownlow should be convicted, he must himself 
 request President Davis for a pardon. It was use- 
 less to prosecute Brownlow after that, and he was 
 released, but on the same day of the entering of the 
 nolle -prosequi in the civil court, he was arrested by 
 the military authorities, and placed under double 
 guard in his own house, where for a long time he 
 was sick, and under the authority of the same 
 Colonel Leadbetter v/ho had hanged Hensie and 
 Fry, and whom he denounced as the prince of 
 villains, murderers, and tyrants. In the middle of 
 February, Leadbetter was superseded by Colonel 
 Vance, a gentleman of high character, who relieved 
 him from most of the annoyances of his imprison- 
 ment. It was well for Brownlow that this change 
 of jurisdiction came. With the reverses of the year, 
 the Confederate soldiers grew almost desperate. It 
 seemed to Brownlow that " the rebels had suddenly 
 been filled with the malice of hell." The guard 
 about him was now increased to ten men, no longer 
 to confine, but to protect him. 
 
 It had seemed to the local authorities that the 
 imprisonment of Brownlow was a necessity, in spite 
 of the promise of the Confederate government. 
 The Knoxville Register^ when there had been a 
 prospect of his release, protested against the action 
 of the War Department at Richmond as being 
 " worse than a crime, — a blunder." It said : 
 
 " Brownlow has preached at every church and 
 school-house, made stump speeches at every cross 
 road, and knows every man, woman, and child, and 
 
202 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 their fathers and grandfathers before them, in East 
 Tennessee. As a Methodist circuit rider, a poHtical 
 stump speaker, a temperance orator, and the editor 
 of a newspaper, he has been equally successful in 
 our division of the State. 
 
 " Let him but once reach the confines of Ken- 
 tucky with his knowledge of the geography and 
 population of East Tennessee, and our section will 
 soon feel the effect of his hard blows. From 
 among his old partisan and religious sectarian para- 
 sites he will find men who will obey him with the 
 fanatical alacrity of those who followed Peter the 
 Hermit in the First Crusade. We repeat again, let 
 us not underrate Brownlow." 
 
 Thus the local authorities held Brownlow against 
 the will of the Confederate government, not because 
 they wanted him, but because they knew the loyalty 
 of East Tennessee, and feared to allow him to 
 depart. Like the man who caught the bear on the 
 opposite side of the tree, they wanted some one to 
 help them to let go. 
 
 After a double defeat of the Confederates at Mill 
 Spring and Fort Donelson, when the town was filled 
 with flying soldiers, and many of the pronounced 
 Confederate sympathizers of the town were hastily 
 moving south, no thought of prudence restricted 
 Brownlow's joy. He reminded the rebels, some of 
 whom he had known, that they had boasted of their 
 intention to " die in the last ditch," and he compli- 
 mented them upon the eagerness of their search for 
 the ditch, and the prospect of their finding it. He 
 expressed his estimate of the courage of the new 
 troops, who from time to time were passing through 
 
Parson Brownlow's Release 203 
 
 Knoxville north, and waking the town with their 
 hilarious and often drunken boasting, that, — 
 
 " A company of them can demolish any unarmed 
 woman in the country ! " 
 
 On Friday, February 28, appointed by Jefferson 
 Davis as a day of fasting, humiliation, and prayer, 
 Brownlow applauded the appointment, affirming 
 that, — 
 
 "If ever a set of men needed to humble them- 
 selves before God and confess their sins, it is the 
 men associated with Jeff Davis in this infernal 
 rebellion." 
 
 This became intolerable. On Sunday, March 2, 
 Secretary Benjamin ordered Major Monserrat, who 
 had succeeded Colonel Vance, to remove Brownlow 
 to Kentucky, and that officer was only too glad to 
 obey. The very next morning he started, under a 
 guard of ten men, who were ordered to protect him 
 at all hazards, and to treat him courteously and 
 kindly. 
 
 Brownlow had no little difficulty still in getting 
 through the lines. Both Generals A. S. Johnston 
 and Hardee at first refused to honor his passes. 
 The truth was that the Confederates were then in 
 such terror that they dreaded to have Brownlow's 
 knowledge of their weakness and confusion taken to 
 the Union army. But the two weeks that he was 
 detained at Shelbyville were to him a sort of ovation. 
 The Union people thronged him, the women sent 
 him flowers, and the rebels chafed under his bitter 
 words. 
 
 It was hard for them to kick against the pricks. 
 They dreaded to let Brownlow go. They dared 
 
204 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 not wholly disregard the authority of Richmond 
 and send him back, and they could not forever 
 keep him where he was, Jonah was not a more 
 uncomfortable guest; and they proceeded to throw 
 him overboard. On March 15, they sent him 
 under escort and a flag of truce, and soon he entered 
 Nashville, where Andrew Johnson was establishing 
 the military government, and Buell was resting after 
 his victories and planning for other ones. Brown- 
 low was at once in demand, and received a welcome 
 that a king might have counted an honor. He was 
 eagerly questioned by Buell for military information, 
 and greeted by the officers and men of the Union 
 army with every token of affectionate regard. He 
 was called from his room in the St. Cloud Hotel to 
 address the crowd that thronged the space below. 
 That his right hand had not forgotten its cunning, 
 and that his tongue was as vigorous as ever, is evi- 
 denced by his own report of his speech delivered on 
 that occasion, in which he proposed the sentiment, 
 " Grape for the rebel masses, and hemp for their 
 leaders ! " 
 
XVIII 
 
 How a Woman Saved an Army 
 
 "ITH the coming of the spring of 1862, 
 operations began against Cumberland Gap. 
 General Carter had held on all winter in 
 the face of great discouragements. General George 
 W. Morgan was ordered to join him with three 
 additional brigades, and advance upon the almost 
 impregnable fastness, then often spoken of as the 
 American Gibraltar, — the key to East Tennessee. 
 There had been a time, just after the battle of Mill 
 Spring, when it might have been had for the asking, 
 if any strong force had been sent against it. But 
 the delays had been such that it remained now the 
 one Confederate foothold in Kentucky. Garfield had 
 driven Humphrey Marshall from the Big Sandy ; 
 Forts Henry and Donelson had fallen, and with 
 them Nashville had surrendered ; Island Number 
 10 had been given up, and the Mississippi was 
 open to Vicksburg ; the battle of Mill Spring had 
 cleared central Kentucky ; and the only point in 
 the middle West, where the Confederate line bent 
 to the north, was where Union sentiment was 
 strongest, and where men who had refused all pos- 
 sible encouragement to join the Confederacy were 
 enduring great hardship for the hope of fighting 
 for the flag. It seemed a wrong and anomalous 
 thing that such should be the case. The plan which 
 
 205 
 
2o6 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 Nelson had originated, and McClellan had approved, 
 and Thomas had been eager to adopt, and Lincohi 
 had unceasingly advocated, the plan which Carter 
 had waited all winter to start in motion, seemed 
 about to materialize in the capture of the Gap and 
 the relief of East Tennessee. 
 
 General Carter wanted a man for extra-hazardous 
 service. He sent for the colonels of his two East 
 Tennessee regiments, and made diligent inquiry 
 after a young mountaineer whom he remembered 
 as having deserted after the battle of Wild Cat, and 
 who had rejoined the army before the battle of Mill 
 Spring, It was found after some inquiry that the 
 man he sought was Jackson Casey, then absent on 
 sick leave, but reported as convalescent, and hkely 
 soon to return. 
 
 " Where is this man Casey ? " he asked. 
 
 " At Roundstone, a day's ride away," was the reply. 
 
 " Is he well enough to travel ? " 
 
 " Captain Cooper has word that he is ready to 
 return when needed." 
 
 " Good ! Let a trusty officer be detailed to con- 
 vey a message to him. It will be better for him 
 not to return to camp." 
 
 Late that night an officer rode up to the Whitley 
 home, and obtained shelter for the night. Supper 
 over, he drew Jack aside and communicated his 
 instructions. He was to secure a horse and ride at 
 once into Tennessee, near his old home, and direct 
 a body of men who were preparing to leave the 
 State to unite with the Union army. In February, 
 Governor Harris had called out the entire militia 
 force of the State, commanding every able-bodied 
 
How a Woman Saved an Army 207 
 
 man between eighteen and forty-five to join the 
 Confederate army. Large numbers of Union men, 
 who had been held at home up to this time, finding 
 that they must fight for the Confederacy if they 
 remained, were planning how they might escape to 
 Kentucky. A band of several hundred was forming 
 in Knox and Blount counties, as General Carter 
 had been informed, and the route by which they 
 were planning to come, following up the valleys, 
 was, because of prospective Confederate movements, 
 a dangerous one. The entire party was liable to be 
 captured en route. 
 
 General Carter, himself an East Tennesseean, 
 counted on the help of such bodies as this in his 
 operations against Cumberland Gap, and wished 
 to afford them all possible assistance in joining the 
 Union army; but he felt that to come to London 
 at that juncture would be extremely dangerous, and 
 advised, instead, that they effect a union with the 
 troops stationed at Boston, near the state line, in 
 Whitley County. 
 
 Jack proceeded on his mission, not without some 
 uncertainty, for he was putting his head within the 
 halter again. But he rejoiced in the trust confided 
 to him. In citizen's clothes, and armed only with 
 a revolver and bowie knife, he rode out of Round- 
 stone, and turned through Crank's Gap into Vir- 
 ginia, and thence into Tennessee. 
 
 Before Jack left Roundstone, Joe Whitley came 
 home for a few days, and there was a conference 
 among Eph and Joe and Jack — for he was now 
 taken into the family — as to the best way to pro- 
 vide for Jennie, With the news of Jack's mission. 
 
ao8 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 a way seemed to open. Jack would go into Ten- 
 nessee, and returning, as he must another way and on 
 foot, would leave his horse with his mother, and start 
 her toward Roundstone to stay with Jennie for the 
 remainder of the war. This provided satisfactorily 
 for both, and Jack was glad to remove his mother 
 from the scenes in which she was living. 
 
 Jack passed safely and without undue fatigue 
 through Crank's Gap and over into the corner of 
 Virginia. He was about crossing into Tennessee, 
 when, looking down the narrow road before him, 
 he saw a horseman who had dismounted, and was 
 examining the hoof of his horse. Jack hesitated 
 about going on, but it was not easy to go around, 
 so he spurred on, and soon overtook the man. 
 Though he was in citizen's clothes like himself, 
 Jack easily placed the man as a soldier, and readily 
 supposed him to be a Confederate. The same idea 
 was in the mind of each, and neither stopped to 
 think that the other might belong to the Union 
 army, as they were then well within the Confederate 
 lines. 
 
 Jack saw that the man was troubled. 
 
 " Howdy, stranger," he said. " In a hurry ? " 
 
 " Not much," said Jack ; " but I ain't used to 
 wastin' much time when I want to git somewhere." 
 
 " That's the way with me ; but I'm sorter in 
 trovible." 
 
 "What's the matter? " asked Jack. 
 
 " My horse lost a shoe 'bout six mile back, an' 
 I couldn't find no place to git him shod. I've jes' 
 had to ride on an' now he's lame. Look at that 
 hoof crack." 
 
How a Woman Saved an Army 209 
 
 "Mighty bad, ain't it? I hope you warn't in 
 no hurry ? " 
 
 "Wall, I warn't in notearin' hurry, as the feller 
 says, but 1 was sorter anxious to git on. Stranger,, 
 how'd you swap horses ? " 
 
 " Same's ef you didn't have none." 
 
 " Wall,, this hain't much of a horse jes' now, that's 
 a fact. But he's a mighty good one when he's 
 shod. I'll give ye two hundred to boot. An' 
 they hain't a prettier ridin' nag in Kaintuck than 
 this one." 
 
 " Looky here," demanded Jack, " I wanter know 
 what you're in sech a hurry to git on fur ? It 
 looks to me sorter suspicious. I've got an idj 
 you're a Union spy, tryin' to git information for 
 the Yanks." 
 
 " Wall, stranger, you're shootin' inter the wrong 
 side o' the tree, that's all. Seein' you're on the 
 same side, an' I'm in a fix, I'll tell ye what. I 
 hain't no spy, but I'm a messenger, an' I've got 
 despatches fur Kirby Smith. Now ef you got the 
 heart of a Southern gentleman, I know you'll let 
 me have yer horse." 
 
 " Not by a jugful," said Jack. " I've got some 
 despatches myself." 
 
 "Wall, le' me take your horse, an' I'll deliver 
 your despatches." 
 
 " Not much," said Jack, " but I'll deliver your'n." 
 
 " No, I couldn't give 'em up. But I'll tell you 
 what, I mought tell you what I know, an' ef you 
 git through afore I do, you kin give the word. 
 You know Morgan's movin' to attack Cumberland 
 Gap, an' he's sent Spears with one of his four bri- 
 
2IO A Hero in Homespun 
 
 gades to clar out Big Creek Gap. Kirby's got 
 men a-watchin' on him, an' has been a-gittin' word 
 every day how the work was gittin' on, an' how 
 fur that brigade is a-gittin' from the main body at 
 Cumberland Ford. The word I've got is that they 
 hain't right sure whether Morgan means to clar that 
 out jes' for a bluff, or whether he raley intends to 
 leave Cumberland Gap one side an' come through 
 Big Creek Gap. Anyhow, they allow that the work 
 is mighty nigh done. He's got the obstructions 
 mighty nigh clared out, an' is as fur from Morgan's 
 main army as he's a-goin' to git. Either he'll go 
 back right soon now to the Ford with the rest, or 
 the rest will come up to whar he is. An' the word 
 I've got is, that now's the time for Smith to slip 
 through Woodson's Gap, and cut off Spears' bri- 
 gade as he goes back through Big Creek Gap, an' 
 he kin bag the hull brigade without encounterin' 
 Morgan's main army at all. That's the word." 
 
 " I'll hurry on an' take it," said Jack. " Don' 
 you reckon you best le' me take the papers ? Kirby 
 may want them." 
 
 " Wall, I donno but I best. Wait till I pull off 
 my boot. No, I don' guess I best give up the 
 papers. But that's the hull o' the message, I know. 
 I wisht you'd le' me take your horse." 
 
 " Cain't do that," said Jack ; " but you needn't 
 a'hurry with your lame horse. I'll take the word all 
 right." 
 
 Then Jack turned toward home, and hastened 
 with all his might. That evening he pulled up at 
 the house of Steph Crowell. 
 
 " Steph, Steph ! Hello, Steph ! " 
 
How a Woman Saved an Army 211 
 
 Steph came to the door. 
 
 " Howdy, Jack, howdy ! " Then correcting 
 himself he said, " No, hit tain't Jack. I was mis- 
 takened. I don' wanter testify that I've seed Jack 
 Casey round here in citizen's clothes. You resem- 
 blify Jack Casey powerful, as the feller said, but I 
 see ye hain't. How ye ben .? " 
 
 " Right pert. But, Steph, I want to swap horses." 
 
 " I'm allers willin' fur a good trade. Wut'll ye 
 give to boot ? " 
 
 " Whatever you say, Steph, an' I'll see that you 
 git the money, but I ain't got it with me. But I 
 mus' have a fraish horse right off." 
 
 " I reckon that would be a right good beast 
 you're ridin' ef he warn't so used up." 
 
 " He's a fine animal. I never straddled a better 
 one. But I've rode hard. Fetch out your'n, an' 
 fetch him over to the house while I ride over an' 
 see ma a minute." 
 
 " Meanin' over to Mis' Casey's.'' I'll come over 
 in ten or fifteen minutes. I reckon though, ef the 
 hoss is a-goin' to travel to-night, I best feed him 
 fust. I'll come over half a hour atter you git than" 
 
 Jack hastened home and found his mother. Glad 
 enough was she to see him, but she repressed her 
 eagerness to question her son about himself when 
 she saw that he had a message for her. 
 
 " Quick, ma ! Git yerself somethin' to eat, an' git 
 ready to ride. I want ye to go through the moun- 
 tains to-night and take a message to Cumberland 
 Ford." 
 
 She lost no time in discussion, but hastily pre- 
 pared the last meal they were to eat together, while 
 
212 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 he told her his message. The word about the army- 
 was told in detail and repeated caretully, that there 
 could be no mistake. He also told her minutely 
 about the way that she must go, the mountain paths, 
 the passes through the ridges, the best places to ford 
 streams, and much more, but this she knew almost 
 as well as he. The matter of her home at Round- 
 stone was told in less detail, but she accepted it, not 
 without a heart-throb at leaving the home that had 
 been hers, but without protest. 
 
 She gathered into a reticule some things which 
 she wished to take with her, having respect to the 
 necessity for light travel and haste, and Jack agreed 
 to see that the rest of the family belongings of value 
 were stored in the cave. 
 
 By this time Steph was at the door, and Jack and 
 his mother went out together. 
 
 "If you don' mind, Steph, I'll ride as far as your 
 house with mother, and leave this horse at your door. 
 Thank you, old friend." 
 
 " Good-by, stranger, I hope ye won't regret yer 
 swap. You do favor Jack Casey more'n ever I 
 seed two men favor each other. Good-by, Mis' 
 Casey. I hope ye'll have a good ride, wherever 
 you're goin'." 
 
 " Good-by, Steph. And God bless ye." 
 
 At Steph's gate Jack kissed his mother and tied 
 his horse, and then went to the house to rest that 
 night and be off with the dawn, hindered hardly 
 an hour by the task of secreting the property. 
 
 Thus Elizabeth Casey started on her perilous ride 
 in the night to save the Union army from the raid 
 of General Kirby Smith. It was a long, dark ride. 
 
How a Woman Saved an Army 213 
 
 The woods were full of dangers, seen and unseen. 
 The roads were wretched, and in places she had to 
 ride where there were no roads. She was turning 
 her back upon her life-long home, and parting again 
 with her son, perhaps forever, but her heart was 
 brave and her purpose true. 
 
 Who shall record the heroic deeds of women in the 
 Civil War ? Poets sing the fame of the general who 
 rides from afar to save the day, but how few know 
 the tale of the noble woman of East Tennessee, 
 who, mounted on the horse that her son had 
 brought, rode through the darkness and the wil- 
 derness, through swollen streams and hostile camps, 
 where no man could have ridden unhalted, and 
 brought the warning that saved from capture a 
 whole brigade ! The government was appealed 
 to later, to make some fitting testimonial in honor 
 of the brave deed, but nothing came of it. Yet 
 General Morgan gratefully records that what saved 
 the command of General Spears, as he was clear- 
 ing the way for the approach to Cumberland Gap, 
 was the heroic ride of that brave woman, who had 
 already given her son, and now risked her life 
 besides. 
 
 They tell wonderful tales of that ride, all through 
 the Cumberland Mountains : how she galloped down 
 a road that was held by the rebels, and when the 
 sentinel called his " Halt ! Who goes there ? " 
 answered, " A woman, and I won't halt," and 
 dashed by him, knowing that he would not fire 
 upon a woman ; how she urged her horse up a 
 rocky slope where never horse had carried a human 
 soul, and where, as they verily believe, only special 
 
214 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 Providential intervention saved her from certain 
 death ; how she forded streams that were swimming 
 deep, and came through dry, as the IsraeHtes passed 
 through the sea ; how once her horse fell beneath 
 her on the edge of an abyss, but she rose unharmed 
 and mounted and rode on again, the horse seeming 
 to gather strength and courage from her own in- 
 domitable will, — these and a score of other inci- 
 dents they relate of that ride of a heroine to save an 
 army. 
 
 The day was breaking as she stopped on the 
 top of the mountain that separates Kentucky from 
 Tennessee, and sat for a moment to rest her pant- 
 ing horse after the climb, silhouetted against the sky 
 that was lighting with the dawn. Just as the sun 
 was rising she stopped for a half hour to feed her 
 horse and remove her saddle, and then was riding 
 on again. The sun rose to the meridian and began 
 to decline, but her hand still held the rein, and the 
 faithful horse moved on. 
 
 That afternoon there came riding around the 
 clean-cut end of Pine Mountain where the Cumber- 
 land has sawn it through, a mud-bespattered horse, 
 and a tired but trmmphant woman, bearing word to 
 General Morgan of the danger awaiting Spears' 
 brigade. 
 
 Messengers were sent out. The brigade was 
 recalled. And when, next day, Kirby Smith passed 
 through Woodson's Gap, and with a swoop like that 
 of an eagle descended upon the valley where Spears' 
 brigade had been, the prey had taken its flight, and 
 the Confederate army returned from a bootless 
 journey. 
 
XIX 
 
 The Plucky Women of Scott County 
 
 FOR several days in April a number of men were 
 at work steadily and stealthily in the woods 
 on the bank of the Clinch River about twenty 
 miles north of Knoxville, building a boat 
 which might ferry seventy-five men across the river 
 at once. Having completed their task, they hid the 
 craft in the woods, to prevent, if possible, the rebel 
 pickets from finding it until it should have served 
 its end. 
 
 On the night of the anniversary of the ride of 
 Paul Revere, Jack Casey made his way to this boat 
 and waited for company. A group of seventy-five 
 men, largely from the vicinity of Knoxville, who had 
 rendezvoused at Bull Run Creek, first appeared, and 
 rejoiced to find the boat in possession of its friends. 
 They were gotten on board at about two o'clock 
 in the morning, and set ashore on the opposite 
 side. The boat returned for another company 
 that had appeared, and the first, who had already 
 marched twenty miles in the rain, unslung their 
 haversacks, and sat down to rest. Before the boat 
 returned they were alarmed by the cry that the 
 rebel cavalry were after them, and hastily formed in 
 line, placing in front the men, less than one-third 
 of their number, who had been able to secure any 
 kind of weapon. It proved a false alarm. The two 
 
 215 
 
2i6 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 horsemen who approached were friends, coming to 
 guide them until dayhght. Three hundred thus 
 crossed that night, and seventy -five, comprising 
 another company, were captured in their attempt to 
 reach the rendezvous. These, with four hundred 
 others, captured the preceding day, were taken 
 south, and then given their choice of imprisonment 
 or of enhstment in the Confederate army. 
 
 At ahnost every house, as they marched by, a 
 man would come out and silently join the column. 
 The men as they passed saw many a sorrowful 
 silhouette in the doorways, many a fond farewell, as 
 fathers and husbands and sons stood for a moment 
 on the threshold with arms about their loved ones, 
 and then hurried out in silence to join the company, 
 which now about held its own in numbers ; for while 
 many joined its ranks, some who could not keep up, 
 and were already wearied with the march and chilled 
 with the rain, gave out, and dropped into some hos- 
 pitable cabin by the way. 
 
 When daybreak came, they could go no farther. 
 They found a secluded place in the hills, and, first 
 eating a meal from their haversacks, threw them- 
 selves, wet as they were, and without shelter from 
 the rain, upon the sodden earth, A few acted as 
 sentinels, and these, in two hours, woke the entire 
 company, bringing in a man whom they had capt- 
 ured, who professed to be a rebel, but who talked 
 so confusedly that they could make little of what 
 he said. They took him for a spy, and hastened 
 on, commanding him to stay with them on pain of 
 being shot. It appeared in time that their prisoner 
 was really a Union man, who, having been captured 
 
The Plucky Women of Scott County 217 
 
 by the Confederates and escaped, had come among 
 them by accident after a night of wandering, and 
 fearing them to be enemies, and being greatly per- 
 turbed, made the confused answers which had so 
 frightened them. But they did not learn this for 
 some hours, which was well for them. The cavalry 
 were in hot pursuit, and arrived at their brief resting- 
 place an hour only after they had left. But for 
 their false alarm and utmost haste, they would all 
 have been captured. 
 
 The men had no commander, but trusted to their 
 guides. Jack had brought general information con- 
 cerning the route that must be chosen, but at dif- 
 ferent points they followed the lead of individual 
 members of the party, who knew in detail some 
 portions of the way, and at times they found ready 
 guides in loyal men through whose neighborhood 
 they passed. They saw few houses, however, and 
 marched all day without another halt for rest. 
 
 When it had grown dark, and they had now been 
 tramping for twenty-four hours with only two hours' 
 rest. Jack called a halt, and there was no one to 
 question his authority, nor did any wish so to 
 do. They were miles from any human habitation. 
 The deep ravine in which they huddled together 
 seemed in the darkness and rain a haunted place. 
 They ate a supper from their long-soaked haver- 
 sacks, and lay down on the wet ground, in a pouring 
 rain, to spend a night in what they ever afterward 
 called " Camp Misery." 
 
 Still the enemy followed them, being baffled only 
 by their choosing a way so rough as to be imprac- 
 ticable for cavalry, and night by night they stopped 
 
21 8 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 to rest a few miles nearer the land that was sheltered 
 by the Union flag. After five days of marching, 
 they passed through Scott County, which adjoins 
 the Kentucky line, and were stopped for a time early 
 in the morning by the swelling of New River, but 
 found after an hour of search one small canoe. It 
 would not ferry over the men, but it would take in 
 a few trips their precious firearms. A single cabin 
 was in sight on the other side, but not a soul could 
 be seen. The men loaded their guns into the canoe, 
 and themselves plunged into the water. On the 
 other side they reclaimed their arms, and, in doing 
 so, accidentally discharged a gun. Then suddenly 
 life appeared in the cabin. A man ran to the barn, 
 mounted a horse, and rode off at all speed, to warn 
 the neighbors that the rebels were coming. 
 
 They ascended the river bank to the cabin, and 
 found, as they had suspected, that the warning con- 
 veyed by the horseman had been of the supposed 
 approach of the rebels, and that the "jay-hawking" 
 might now be looked for at every foot of the way. 
 This information was given with evident satisfaction 
 by a resolute and toothless old woman, with a snufF- 
 stick between her gums, 
 
 " But we hain't rebs. We're fur the Union," said 
 the men, 
 
 " Be ye Union, shore enough ? " asked the woman, 
 removing her snuff-stick. 
 
 " Yes, we're Union, every man of us, an' we're 
 goin' over into Whitley to fight for Lincoln." 
 
 " Laws a massy ! An' them men'll be a-shootin' 
 on ye every mile o' the way from here to Kaintuck! 
 Here, Marthy ! Marthy ! You run up the branch 
 
The Plucky Women of Scott County 219 
 
 an' holler to Sue and Peggy ! Tell 'em to come 
 right off!" 
 
 A tall, long-limbed girl of sixteen answered the 
 behest, and in ten minutes there were four women 
 at the house : the old woman, the young girl, and 
 two neighbors. 
 
 Meantime the old woman went into the house 
 and got a red shawl. With a needle she quickly 
 basted some stripes of white cotton on one side, 
 and mounted it to a sapling which one of the sol- 
 diers cut at her command. It was ready by the 
 time the women were on hand. 
 
 " Gals," she said, " these men is Union, an' our 
 men thinks they're rebs. They don't know one 
 man from another, the men don't, an' they'll shoot 
 'em, sure's yer horned. But they won't shoot 
 women. We gotter go ahead an' keep the men 
 from shootin', till they find out who they be." 
 
 The Tennesseeans recognized the propriety of 
 accepting some such offer. They were dealing with 
 men who were not accustomed to be trifled with, 
 and who would stop to ask no questions before 
 shooting. That they were coming from the south, 
 without warning, ^2j& prima facie evidence that they 
 were rebels, and they would meet a warm reception 
 from the men of Scott County. They were an odd 
 lot, old men and boys for the most part, too old or 
 too young to be drafted, and with certain rough 
 and ready ideas about the value of human life, and 
 the best way of settling difficulties. They lived in 
 that border county, and built their stills on the 
 state line, and settled questions of jurisdiction at 
 long range. They were steady of nerve, and not 
 
110 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 over tender of conscience, and they could see from 
 behind a rock a man whom they beheved a rebel, and 
 could watch his approach, as he appeared above the 
 sights on the two ends of the four feet barrel of their 
 mountain guns, and then, when the blade on the muz- 
 zle just filled to a hair the slot in the hindsight, they 
 could press the hair trigger with the steadiest nerve, 
 — those Scott County bushwhackers ! But they 
 were loyal, every man of them, and the strong men 
 having gone to war and left the old men and boys to 
 defend the women and the homes, that was the way 
 they did it. And they were a terror to evil-doers 
 all the way from Pine Knot to Brimstone Creek. 
 
 Never did an army have a better advance guard, 
 or one that promised more for its safety than that 
 which the old woman organized on the north shore 
 of New River on that April day. The sun was be- 
 ginning to shine, and the dingy green of approach- 
 ing spring was on the hilltops. The season seemed 
 to have changed in a day from the dearth and cold 
 of winter to the almost realized promise of spring. 
 And this was gladdening the hearts of the men, 
 whose every mile hitherto, and every night of rest 
 until the last, had been passed in a constant rain. 
 And best of all was this reception by a people who 
 were near enough the protection of the Union arms 
 to come out openly and be their friends. 
 
 " Toe the mark, here ! " called the old woman to 
 her three companions. The four women marched 
 abreast, waving the flag, and talking or singing as 
 they walked. The men followed a short distance 
 behind them, and stepped with new alacrity, and 
 filled the road from side to side, for a long distance. 
 
The Plucky Women of Scott County. Page 221, 
 
The Plucky Women of Scott County 221 
 
 At each house they passed, the women stopped 
 and called out other women, until there were a 
 dozen of them, and as they approached places 
 which they knew were favorable to ambush, they 
 called laughingly, — 
 
 " Shoot, ef ye wanter ! We're a-comin' ! Don't 
 we look lack rebs ? " 
 
 Soon men, who were hiding beside the road, stood 
 up and let down the hammers of their guns, and 
 joined the procession. When some of the women 
 had to drop out and return, their places had been 
 taken in advance by others, and at no time during 
 the day, after the number reached its full, were there 
 less than a dozen in the lead. The warning had 
 gone a matter of six miles, as one neighbor had sent 
 the news ahead to another. But for the whole fif- 
 teen miles from New River to the state line, the 
 loyal women of Scott County led the way with 
 cheering and with song. Behind them came the 
 men of Scott, and behind these came the heroes 
 of the parade, the men from Knox and Blount, 
 who were going to fight for the flag. 
 
 When any of the women turned back to go to 
 their homes, as they did from time to time in 
 groups of two and three, the men cheered them, 
 all down the line, and waved their hats and kissed 
 their hands. Just as the sun was setting, they 
 passed over the state line and entered the camp at 
 Boston. The soldiers saw them coming, and received 
 them with open ranks, cheering the hardy men of 
 Tennessee and the plucky women of the good old 
 county of Scott. 
 
XX 
 
 The Capture of Cumberland Gap 
 
 UMBERLAND GAP, an almost impreg- 
 nable natural fortress, had been greatly 
 strengthened by the Confederates during 
 their occupancy. Morgan found that he 
 could approach the Gap, but that his force was 
 insufficient to capture it by assault, especially with 
 the sudden activity of Kirby Smith on his flank. 
 Smith was drawn off toward Chattanooga by a 
 diversion of Buell at Morgan's request, but Buell 
 sent word to Morgan, on the loth of June, that he 
 must depend upon his own resources, and look for 
 no further aid from the main army ; moreover that 
 Buell contemplated larger operations, which might 
 be seriously injured by any failure of Morgan, who 
 therefore had better attempt no offensive measures. 
 
 But the hard-worked soldiers, who had spent 
 weeks of labor in cutting roads, in hauling cannon 
 by hand over the Pine and Cumberland mountains, 
 who had lived for months on the hope of an attack 
 upon the Gap, would hear to no word of remaining 
 longer upon the defensive. At one o'clock on 
 the morning of June i8 the command started for- 
 ward, in two parallel columns of two brigades each, 
 over roads that they had cut either out of the 
 virgin forest, or through the obstructions which 
 the Confederates had thrown across them. It was 
 
The Capture of Cumberland Gap 223 
 
 a high day with them all. They were advancing 
 almost against orders, and their right to the attempt 
 was to be demonstrated at the point of the bayonet. 
 They had waited too long for this day not to greet 
 it with enthusiasm. 
 
 They made a brief halt for breakfast as they 
 entered the valley of Yellow Creek. Their hearts 
 beat high, and they were confident and eager. In 
 the midst of the meal, a Union man rode among 
 them with the news that the rebels were retreating 
 before them. They had looked for a desperate 
 battle. To win the Gap without a fight was news 
 too good to be true, and almost too good to be 
 desired. The advance was sounded. The meal 
 was left half eaten. The army was in motion 
 again, up the valley of Yellow Creek. Along the 
 way they found evidence that they had been told 
 the truth. They came to the outposts and found 
 them deserted. Up the slope they came to a 
 masked battery, and found its guns spiked. They 
 rushed up the road, where the rocks slope like the 
 roof of a house. They pushed past each other 
 in their eagerness. They left the road and went 
 scrambling up the side of the mountain. No 
 orders could restrain them. No discipline could 
 hold them back. They were thirsty, and passed a 
 spring, many of them without stopping to drink. 
 They had no breath to cheer, but they climbed 
 with grip and nail. 
 
 The advance reached the great saddle, and met 
 the advance from the two brigades approaching from 
 the other road. They joined in a cheer which was 
 caught up below and echoed hoarsely from thou- 
 
224 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 sands of parched throats. Up the steep they 
 crowded, companies all broken, Hnes all disregarded, 
 the flags ahead, and the strongest of limb and pur- 
 pose hard after them. They paused for breath in 
 the Gap, and for a swallow of water at the spring,^ 
 from which no thirsty soul could drink without grati- 
 tude to the good God who made it there, and most 
 were content to stop. But after an interval of rest 
 a group of the bravest started up the slope on the 
 steeper side, above the Gap. A color-sergeant be- 
 longing to De Courcey's brigade, which had entered 
 the Gap from the other side, saw the movement, but 
 was too exhausted to go farther. 
 
 " Give me your flag ! " cried Jack. 
 
 " Place it on the very top ! " cried the color- 
 bearer. 
 
 Up, up the steep path they went, already tired, 
 but all eager to be first upon the summit, a hun- 
 dred, perhaps, of the foremost, who were sighing for 
 more worlds to conquer. Their companions still 
 arriving in the Gap, and the officers who were stand- 
 ing a little apart with their field-glasses, watched 
 with interest from below. Jack looked down and 
 saw the cloud of witnesses, and it put fresh enthu- 
 siasm into him. He pressed on, passing one and 
 another, until there were hardly more than a dozen 
 ahead, and they were almost at the top. At that 
 moment a brawny fellow, who was in the lead, 
 glanced over his shoulder and saw Jack struggling 
 up. He stopped and wheeled about, and halted 
 those who followed him with a wave of his hand. 
 He caught his breath enough to speak by the time 
 
 ^ This fine spring has been ruined by the blasting of the tunnel beneath the Gap. 
 
The Capture of Cumberland Gap 225 
 
 Jack came panting to the place where he and his 
 comrade stood. 
 
 " Stop ! " said the strapping fellow to those ahead 
 of Jack. " Stop, and let the flag go first ! " 
 
 Jack passed on, the others following hard after, 
 and behind these, four or five score hardy fellows 
 panting up the slope between them and the notch. 
 Jack scrambled over the low embankment and ran 
 to the great gun. Long Tom, which stood in posi- 
 tion on the very crest. He climbed upon its car- 
 riage, the big fellow giving him a lift, and stood 
 upon the breech of the great cannon, waving the 
 flag where all below could see. A cheer came up 
 from the Gap, a cheer that had been pent up for 
 months, a cheer that had in it the ardor that had 
 come from hard struggle and great privation for the 
 sake of the Union. And the great mountain range 
 that opened its arms to take the Union army to 
 its very heart echoed back from its two great peaks 
 the loyal shout, and from the highest pinnacle of 
 the Cumberlands there floated that day the flag 
 with the stripes and the stars. 
 
 This was glory enough for the most of Morgan's 
 command, but not for Carter's brigade. Carter 
 asked permission to pursue the enemy through the 
 defiles of Tennessee, which he knew so well. He 
 was allowed to go forward as far as Tazewell, and 
 to send detachments short distances from there. 
 He returned, reporting that the Confederates had 
 fled beyond Tazewell and to the Clinch Mountains, 
 or even farther. As a military movement his march 
 into Tennessee was hardly more than a reconnoitre. 
 But to his men and to the people it was a tri- 
 
226 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 umphal entry. Many of the soldiers passed their 
 own homes. From time to time, along the way, a 
 man in the ranks would quicken his steps as he 
 recognized familiar landmarks, and would note with 
 eagerness the succession of well-known objects that 
 marked the approach of his own house. And there 
 at the fence they would be waiting, — the wife with 
 the baby in her arms, the children standing along the 
 rail fence, — and the man would drop out of the ranks 
 to embrace his wife and kiss the children, and hold 
 for a moment the baby to his heart, while his com- 
 panions sent up a hearty and a homesick cheer. 
 There were old men that came tottering to the 
 door, and stood leaning on their staves, thanking 
 God, like Simeon in the temple, that they had lived 
 to see that day. There were women at every house, 
 cheering and waving and saluting the flag. There 
 were lusty children that shouted their joy at the top 
 of their boyish lungs, or prattled it in broken baby 
 accents. And there were those who could not cheer 
 nor wave nor speak, but who stood weeping tears of 
 joy when they saw the Union flag that had returned 
 to East Tennessee. 
 
XXI 
 
 A Great and Forgotten Battle 
 
 CUB was playing one day in August, down 
 by the creek, and Jennie was spinning in 
 the porch, while Elizabeth hatchelled the 
 little crop of flax which they had pulled by 
 hand, and were preparing for the loom. 
 
 " Hetchellin's mighty hard work," remarked Jen- 
 nie. " You let me do thet a spell, while you spin." 
 
 " No, I'm mighty glad of a chance to do it," said 
 Mrs. Casey. " It's lucky we're so fur to one side 
 the armies don' hardly ever come through the 
 Holler. All the flax I had last year in Tennessy 
 the sojers tromped down." 
 
 " I reckon this war hain't a-goin' to las' much 
 longer, don' you ? " 
 
 " I don' see how it kin, with our side holdin' the 
 Gap. Hit seems mighty quare they hain't gone on 
 to Knoxville. They mought jes' as well." 
 
 " But, as long as the Union side holds the Gap, 
 the rebs won't come inter Kaintucky, will they ? " 
 
 " No, I don't reckon they kin. They's other 
 gaps, but none like that. They mought get over 
 into the west part o' the State, but now that Fort 
 Henry and Fort Donelson has fell, they hain't no 
 show for that." 
 
 " Why don't the Union sojers go on, do you 
 reckon ? " 
 
 227 
 
228 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " I don' know. 'Pears like they git all hesitated 
 up, an' don' know what to do. Ef I was in com- 
 mand at the Gap, do you s'pose I'd leave that rail- 
 road for the rebels to send cotton an' corn an' fodder 
 from Georgy, an' rebel sojers from V'ginny, an' let 
 'em travel back 'n' forth an' send Union men south 
 to prison, when it'd all be ours for the astin' ? 1 
 reckon not. I've a plumb notion to git on a horse 
 some day an' ride to Gin'r'l Morgan to the Gap, 
 an' say, ' Ef it hadn't a ben for me ye wouldn't 
 a got here. Now you're here, ye got to go 
 furder, or ye needn't a come.' But still it's 
 something, that while he's thar the rebels can't 
 come in here. But it's mighty hard on the folks 
 in East Tennessy. Here comes Cub. What's 
 the matter. Cub ? " 
 
 " Sojers is tomin' ! " cried Cub. 
 
 " Sojers } I reckon not. Run down to the fence, 
 Jennie, an' see." 
 
 Jennie ran to the fence and back in haste. 
 
 " They be a-comin', shore enough," she said, "an' 
 I'm afeard they're the rebs." 
 
 " The rebs ? That's impossible ! " cried Mrs. 
 Casey. 
 
 But it was true. While General George Morgan 
 was holding the Gap with his small force, Kirby 
 Smith had left General Patterson before the Gap 
 to prevent trouble from Morgan, and had passed 
 from Chattanooga, through East Tennessee, and 
 into the mountains of Kentucky, and was now 
 hastening toward the blue grass. 
 
 " Git some water, Jennie," said Mrs. Casey. 
 " Hit's a hot day, an' they'll be thirsty. Reb or 
 
A Great and Forgotten Battle 229 
 
 Union, I won't refuse no thirsty man a drink, but 
 they gotter keep outer this house." 
 
 She examined the rifle above the fireplace, and 
 hid it in one of the beds, while Jennie ran to the 
 spring, and brought a bucket of water, which she 
 refilled again and again. Elizabeth went to the 
 fence in front with a gourd, and met the first men 
 to pass. 
 
 " Here's water," she said, " an' you're welcome 
 to it. But we're two women, livin' all alone with 
 a little boy, an' we hain't got no more to eat than 
 we need ourselves. We hain't got no contraband 
 goods here, an' we hain't a-goin' to have none o' 
 you men a-comin' in an' pesterin' us. Jest take 
 yer drink o' water an' go on." 
 
 The men were in haste, and thankfully received 
 the water, which, though the force was a small one, 
 disappeared far more rapidly than Jennie could 
 bring it, and no one attempted to molest the women. 
 
 " Do you reckon you could give us a snack to 
 eat ? " asked one man, toward the rear. " We're 
 gittin' our forage as we go, an' the fellers in the 
 van sorter gits ahead of us." 
 
 " You kin have what Httle we got cooked up," 
 said Elizabeth ; " but you mus'n't take wut little we 
 got to live on for the winter." 
 
 Jennie brought out of the house a few corn pones, 
 and a high pie, the latter made of several layers of 
 biscuit dough alternating with apple sauce. 
 
 " Tell me who ye be," asked Elizabeth, " an' 
 where yer goin' ? " 
 
 " We're Kirby Smith's men," said the soldier. 
 *' The main army's goin' over the big road through 
 
230 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 London, but we're scatterin' out so's to git enough 
 ter eat. We're goin' to the Big Hill now, an' I 
 reckon we'll see the Ohio River afore we stop." 
 
 " I reckon you'll see some other things afore ye 
 see that," said Elizabeth. 
 
 " Sich as which ? " asked the soldier. 
 
 " Sich as bayonets, an' sich like." 
 
 "Well, we hain't seed much to skeer us this fur," 
 laughed the men. 
 
 "You better go back," said she, "while ye kin 
 get back with hull skins." 
 
 " They hain't nothin' a-gwine ter hurt us," said 
 one of the men. " We hain't killable. Ef Yankee 
 bullets would kill us, we'd a ben dead a right smart 
 spell ago. We got so much lead in us now we 
 don' dast ter go in swimmin'." 
 
 " That's a pity," said she. " Mos' on yer need a 
 swim right bad." 
 
 " Wall, good-by, marm. Good-by, miss. We'll 
 come back atter while." 
 
 " You'll come back a heap faster'n ye went. 
 That is, ef you're so's to be able to walk." 
 
 Thus the good-natured banter passed between 
 the women and the soldiers. But the women saw 
 them out of sight with great anxiety. 
 
 Toward night the last company came down the 
 road, and camped beside the creek. One of the 
 officers came to the gate to make inquiries concern- 
 ing the roads to Manchester. Elizabeth was pre- 
 paring supper, and Jennie met him. 
 
 " Miss Whitley ! " he exclaimed. "I had no idy 
 of meeting you here, but I'm mighty glad to meet 
 you again. You remember Dr. Sam Marshall ? " 
 
A Great and Forgotten Battle 231 
 
 " I remember you," said Jennie, flushing slightly. 
 
 " I've wanted to say," he hurriedly went on, " I 
 know that I didn't appear well when we met afore. 
 Like as not it was my fault. If you thought ill of 
 me then I'm mighty sorry ; for there's no one in 
 the world I'd like so much to have think well of 
 me as you. Miss Whitley, don't try to stop me. 
 Don't run away from me. I ain't goin' to say 
 anything more, only that the first time I seen you 
 I loved you. I haven't any /dy you feel so 
 towards me, but I can't help thinkin' that if you 
 knew me better — if I could explain — if you'd 
 just count me a friend till I had a chance to show 
 you what sort of feller I really am — " 
 
 He was going on almost breathlessly, but Jennie 
 stopped him. 
 
 " It's no use, Dr. Marshall," she said. " I don' 
 think ill o' ye, p'tic'lar, but I couldn't love a man 
 that's a rebel." 
 
 "Is that the only reason?" he asked. "This 
 war'll be over after a while. Then we can talk about 
 that. I don't want you to say you love me — not 
 now. Leastwise I don't expect it. But is that the 
 only reason why you couldn't ? " 
 
 Jennie bit her lip and hesitated. " No," she 
 said at length, " it ain't the only reason." 
 
 " You love Jack Casey ! " he exclaimed. " Tell 
 me. Is that the reason ? " 
 
 "Dr. Marshall, if I do, I hain't never told him 
 so yet, and I ain't a-goin' to tell no one else. Good 
 night." 
 
 She turned and went into the house, and Sam 
 Marshall wandered down to the Sinks, and listened 
 
232 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 to the swirl of the water as it disappeared, and 
 thought his own life-current had suddenly sunk into 
 a like abyss. 
 
 When Jennie arose next morning the soldiers 
 had moved on, and she and Elizabeth waited, as 
 did thousands of Kentucky women, for the dread 
 tidings that were soon to come. 
 
 It was on the 23d of August, 1862, that Kirby 
 Smith met a small Union force, mostly of Ken- 
 tuckians, on the wooded slopes of the Big Hill, 
 which lies between Rockcastle and "the free State 
 of Jackson," as they used to call the mountain 
 county named for Old Hickory. The hill is four- 
 teen miles across, and it was hard climbing, to say 
 nothing of fighting, on that hot day. There were 
 a few experienced troops that had come from Cum- 
 berland Gap, and the rest were home guards. The 
 soldiers who had been under fire circulated among 
 the new recruits and encouraged them. The Whit- 
 ley brothers were there, and to their company were 
 added some new recruits from the neighboring 
 county of Estill. 
 
 " Howdy, Mr. Murray, I didn't know you was in 
 the war." 
 
 " Yes, I 'listed two months ago. I hoped that 
 you young fellers cud put down the rebellion with- 
 out me, but hyur I be. Where's your friends from 
 Tennessy ? " 
 
 " Cousin Henry got killed in the war." Eph 
 shrank from telling that he had been hanged. 
 "Jack Casey is with his reg'maint at the Gap." 
 
 "'Pears like them men at the Gap mought a 
 saved us this trouble." 
 
A Great and Forgotten Battle 233 
 
 " So it does. But it don't seem like nobody 
 realizes the importance of pushing on into East 
 Tennessy. I've heerd tell that Abe Lincoln has 
 insisted on it from the start, and Thomas and Nel- 
 son has always believed in it. But they always put 
 some one in command that don't. An' so the rebels 
 has that railroad, and they can bring their forces from 
 V'ginny or the cotton States just as they please, an' 
 dump 'em down thar right at our door. Ef we'd go 
 on while we're at it, an' git that railroad an' hold 
 onto it like grim death, they wouldn't be no more 
 raids like this." 
 
 " Nelson's in command now. He believes in 
 invadin' East Tennessy." 
 
 " Yes, but he's got all he kin do now to keep 
 back the rebs that's here. He can't do no invadin' 
 now his self" 
 
 Here the long roll beat, and the men fell in at 
 their posts. There was a scattering fire in the dis- 
 tance, and soon the woods were alive with men in 
 gray. To the new men it was uncanny to see the 
 Confederates pushing their way up the hill, with 
 flushed faces and with unslackened speed. They 
 fired, as it seemed, into their faces, but really above 
 them, as do all raw troops, especially when shooting 
 down hill; and it became a thing of terror to see the 
 enemy come on, scrambling over rocks, pulling them- 
 selves up by branches of trees, and hardly minding 
 the leaden hail that was poured down the hill. Up 
 and up and up, panting and yelling, and seeming to 
 blow the smoke of battle from their nostrils, and now 
 the enemy was at the crest, and fighting hand to hand 
 for possession of the ridge. The crooked Union line 
 
234 -^ Hero in Homespun 
 
 wavered and broke. A few men fled, and then the 
 road was full of them. Then the Confederate 
 advance drove itself like a wedge into the gap they 
 had made, and the terrified home guards turned and 
 ran, pell-mell, toward the blue grass. 
 
 On the western slope of Big Hill there is a clear 
 and beautiful spring, whose waters ripple in a cool 
 rill all the way down the mountain side. When the 
 retreating soldiers came to this, they halted for water, 
 and here a handful of the old troops made a stand, 
 supported by the braver ones that were new. Here 
 again the enemy came upon them, but, met in the 
 narrow mountain pass by a determined body, they 
 were repulsed, and their superior numbers driven 
 back, and under cover of this advantage, the Union 
 soldiers retreated to the toot of the hill. 
 
 A week later occurred the forgotten battle of Rich- 
 mond. The terrible struggles about the Confeder- 
 ate capital later in the war drowned out all memory 
 of another Richmond. But here, in the edge of the 
 blue grass, a few miles from the Big Hill fight, oc- 
 curred what was up to that time the greatest battle in 
 Kentucky, and one whose results struck terror to 
 the heart of the entire North. 
 
 General Nelson was not dismayed by the defeat 
 of his troops at Big Hill. He left General Man- 
 son ^ in charge of the army, with instructions to op- 
 pose the Confederate advance, and fall slowly back 
 to the Kentucky River, while he prepared to make 
 
 ^ "I immediately sent couriers with orders not to fight the enemy. . . . What 
 the motive of General Manson was in bringing on an action under the circumstances, 
 and marching five miles to do so I will leave him to explain to you. 
 
 " W. Nelson, Major General.''^ 
 
A Great and Forgotten Battle 235 
 
 a stand at his own well-chosen position. He was 
 driving about in a buggy, selecting points to be oc- 
 cupied by his troops, when he heard the sound of 
 the cannonade. Lashing his horse into a run, he 
 hastened to Lancaster, ten miles on the way, where 
 he secured a fresh horse and pushed on. Over six 
 feet high, and bearing his three hundred pounds 
 lightly, he was one of the most commanding figures 
 of the war, and those who saw him that day lash- 
 ing his horse furiously along the Richmond pike fell 
 back before him. 
 
 As Nelson approached Richmond, the firing, 
 instead of receding, came nearer, and he knew that 
 it boded ill for his army. The Union forces, under 
 General Manson, had gone out to meet the Con- 
 federates, and taken position beyond Richmond, a 
 few miles toward the Big Hill. Behind their slender 
 defences offence rails stood the new men, and against 
 them, hardened to service and flushed with victory, 
 came the hosts of Kirby Smith. To have won their 
 way inch by inch up the steep side of the Big Hill 
 had been to them a thing of little difficulty ; and 
 now to meet their foe upon the level and face to 
 face, they counted hardly worth the name of fight- 
 ing. With a yell and a volley, they came to the 
 attack, while the Union soldiers with set teeth 
 awaited the onset. 
 
 There was a short struggle and a sharp one, and 
 the dead and wounded were on every side. The 
 Confederate artillery came up, and belched out its 
 fire and sent its round shot bowling over the rolling 
 fields and tearing through the ranks. The raw re- 
 cruits fought bravely against great odds until the 
 
236 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 fight became a hand-to-hand contest, and then the 
 Union soldiers broke and retreated toward the town. 
 
 As Nelson came into Richmond, he was met by 
 the retreating soldiers. He was in a frenzy. The 
 defeat of his army meant the surrender of Lexington 
 and Frankfort, perhaps also of Louisville and Cin- 
 cinnati. He drew his sword and ordered the fugi- 
 tives to halt. He cursed the women who ran to 
 him for protection, and threatened the life of every 
 man who did not turn back. The soldiers feared 
 him more than the enemy, and gathered to his 
 support. Only one man withstood his authority. 
 A soldier from Indiana, making toward the rear, 
 stopped when ordered by Nelson to return, and 
 held up a wounded arm. 
 
 " But, General, I'm wounded," he said. 
 
 The infuriated Nelson struck him over the head 
 with his sword and pushed on. The poor fellow 
 fell against a fence, and holding himself up, leaned 
 his wounded head upon the fence, which showed his 
 blood stains for many a year. When, a few months 
 later. Nelson was shot dead by an Indiana officer, 
 the people of Richmond looked at the stains upon 
 the fence, and thought his death a retribution for 
 his striking a wounded Indiana soldier. 
 
 Furious as Nelson was, he was yet able to display 
 great military genius. He selected a new position, 
 and gathered the fugitives to maintain it. Just out- 
 side the little city, in the cemetery, he rallied his 
 men. Hiding behind tombstones, and protecting 
 themselves behind the fence, they made a desperate 
 stand. But again the rebels pressed upon them in 
 front and flank, while their cavalry threatened the 
 
A Great and Forgotten Battle 237 
 
 rear. Their guns seemed never empty. Their yell 
 was terrible to hear. The gaps in their ranks seemed 
 to heal as fast as made. Nelson's utmost efforts 
 were unavailing. His men broke and ran, leaving 
 on the field five hundred dead and twelve hundred 
 wounded. That in its day was an awful roll of dead 
 and wounded, and showed how hot had been the 
 struggle ere the new troops gave way. Nelson left 
 no stone unturned to redeem the fortunes of the 
 day. When his soldiers had been driven from 
 the cemetery and through the town, and he himself 
 was wounded, he rallied them for a last desperate 
 stand upon the Lancaster pike; but all in vain. 
 His men were hopelessly routed. They fled be- 
 yond Camp Nelson to Lexington and then on north, 
 hardly stopping till they reached the Ohio River ; 
 and Kirby Smith pushed on into the rich blue-grass 
 region, where he captured hundreds of fine horses 
 and gathered stores of provisions, and his men lived 
 on the fat of the land. 
 
 There was consternation in Ohio, for on the flank 
 of Kirby Smith was John Morgan's band of cavalry, 
 which a year later made such a disastrous raid, and 
 even now was learning how to do it. And Smith's 
 whole army moved northward at its leisure, Bragg 
 also moving into Kentucky by a parallel route, oc- 
 cupying towns which the Union troops had held, 
 and practically taking possession of the entire State. 
 Lexington and Frankfort were evacuated. Cincin- 
 nati and Louisville were in terror. The officers of 
 Ohio became anxious for the safety of the State 
 archives, and General Buell marched with all haste 
 from Nashville to protect the cities of the North. 
 
238 A Hero In Homespun 
 
 General George W. Morgan and his forces at 
 Cumberland Gap, cut off from their base of sup- 
 plies and surrounded by forces greater than their 
 own, were in imminent peril of capture or starva- 
 tion, and in all Kentucky there was no adequate 
 force to oppose the advance of Smith and Bragg. 
 General George Morgan at length determined to 
 retreat, and did so, taking his command with him 
 across the mountains to the Ohio River, and leaving 
 Cumberland Gap to the Confederates. Thus did a 
 successful movement end in dismal failure, and the 
 mountains were left again in undisputed possession 
 of the Confederates. 
 
 A few miles south of Richmond, on the pike 
 toward Berea, stands a little red brick church, whose 
 walls show to this day the marks of cannon balls. 
 Inside, on the narrow benches, thick as they could 
 lie, were the wounded men. In a corner near the 
 pulpit, side by side, lay Mr. Murray, and Bill and 
 Joe Whitley. 
 
 " I shall soon be well," said Mr. Murray to 
 Becky, who came with her mother the day after 
 the battle. "And Joe'll recover, too, but Bill won't 
 live many days. He's a brave man, and wants to 
 see his sister. Can you ride and fetch her to 
 him ? " 
 
 Becky consented, and her father told her how 
 the boys had received their wounds. They were 
 the last men to fall back. Joe stood with the flag 
 where the fire was hottest till the army fled, and was 
 shot just as the retreat began. Bill looked back 
 and saw him fall, and, turning, caught him and the 
 flag together in his arms, and with Eph's help bore 
 
A Great and Forgotten Battle 239 
 
 them from the field. It was that return to save 
 Joe and the flag that cost Bill his life ; for just as 
 they crossed the fence a ball struck him, inflicting 
 a fatal wound. 
 
 " Shall I go for your sister ? " asked Beck)^ of 
 Bill. 
 
 " I sorter wisht ye would," he said ; " an' ef I 
 don't live till ye git back, tell her all sech things as 
 a feller ort to say to his sister. An' God bless ye 
 an' Joe. I don't blame him fur likin' ye. I — I 
 — I could a sorter keered fur ye myself ef it 
 hadn't a been I knowed you an' Joe liked each 
 other." 
 
 Becky rode alone to Roundstone, and returned 
 with Jennie and Mrs. Casey. They left Cub with 
 a neighbor. The two girls rode one horse, and 
 brought a large bundle of bedding for the wounded 
 men. And a prettier picture could hardly have 
 been than these two girls on horseback together, 
 with their fair faces and white sunbonnets. Bill 
 was dead before they returned, and with sad hearts 
 they turned to the nursing of the living. 
 
 There was much for women to do in those days, 
 and not all could remain away from home. Nor, 
 as the men were prisoners of war, were all allowed 
 to do so. In a few days Mrs. Casey went home, 
 as Mrs. Murray had already done, and the two 
 girls were left together at the hospital, caring for 
 their friends, who were to be sent south as soon as 
 they were able. The days were all too few. Almost 
 reluctantly they saw the daily improvement of Joe 
 and Mr. Murray. The latter was first able to be 
 moved, and together they bade him a sad farewell. 
 
240 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 as with a score of others from the hospital, he 
 departed to Andersonville. But Joe recovered 
 more slowly, and with one or two discouraging re- 
 lapses, and was still too feeble to be removed in 
 October, when the battle of Perryville drove the 
 Confederates from the State, and Joe was left in 
 Kentucky with his friends. 
 
 He was still too weak to make the long, rough 
 journey to Roundstone, but they obtained a carriage 
 in Richmond and took him to the home of the 
 Murrays, where Jennie left him. 
 
 But who shall tell of the mingled feelings in the 
 hearts of those young women, who were but two of 
 thousands of loyal and true Southern women of 
 their time, each with her love and pride, her sorrow 
 and fear ? They were happy in the recovery and 
 escape of Joe, and both mourned the brave and 
 kind Mr. Murray in his living death in a distant 
 prison. And Jennie's heart, which was still sore for 
 the tragic death of her father, was broken anew by 
 the loss of her brother Bill and anxiety for Jack, 
 from whom she had not heard since the evacuation 
 of the Gap. The narrowness of their vision, their 
 ignorance of the great movements of the war, 
 increased their uncertainty and anxiety ; and the 
 only things that remained unshaken and immovable 
 were their love for their friends, their trust in 
 God, and their devotion to the cause of the 
 Union. 
 
 Mrs. Casey, from her visit to the hospital, re- 
 turned by another way ; the Confederate occupation 
 of the Big Hill making it difficult to get back to 
 Roundstone by that route. So she went to Berea, 
 
A Great and Forgotten Battle 241 
 
 where there had been a school, that was now broken 
 up, and through Boone's Gap to Livingstone, and 
 so across Wild Cat Mountain. Here she spent the 
 night with a family of Tennessee refugees who had 
 occupied a cabin which they had found vacant after 
 the battle a year before. Finding further progress 
 northward difficult, and having undisputed posses- 
 sion, they had remained. 
 
 " Did you ever hear," she asked, as she was leav- 
 ing, "'bout a house the rebels burned at the time o' 
 the battle .? " 
 
 " They burned more'n one house," said the man. 
 " What fur house was you thinkin' 'bout ? " 
 
 "I wasn't thinkin' 'bout no house in p'tic'lar, only 
 I heerd that they burned up a house with a woman 
 m It. 
 
 " Lack as not they did, the dirty devils ! " said 
 the man. "They done a trick as bad, I've heerd. 
 They burned up a house with a baby in hit, an' hits 
 ma went crazy." 
 
 A sudden idea came to Elizabeth. 
 
 " Where was it at ? " she asked. 
 
 "'Bout a mile from here, down that holler, an' 
 up yan spur o' the hill. See that lone pine, thar in 
 the edge of a leetle deadenin' ? That's hit." 
 
 Elizabeth asked no more questions, but turned 
 her horse's head that way. She found the pine tree 
 in the edge of the clearing, and the chimney and 
 doorstone where the burned house had stood. 
 The place answered to a description she had heard 
 from Jack, and her heart sank within her. She 
 made her way to the pine, and there were two graves 
 instead of one. 
 
242 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 She turned and rode sadly away, and reined in 
 her horse at the next cabin and asked for a drink. 
 
 " Am I on the big road to London ? " she asked 
 the tall, lank woman who came to the fence with 
 a gourd, a baby at her breast, and a two year old 
 clinging to her skirt. 
 
 " Yes, this here's the road," said the mother, 
 hushing the ravenous young babe, and bribing him 
 to silence by allowing him to proceed with his 
 dinner while she talked. " This is the road. How 
 d'ye come ? " 
 
 " I come down the road from the top o' Wild 
 Cat, but I sorter got out of the way, I reckon. I 
 come by a place where they's ben a house burnt, 
 up here about three-quarters." 
 
 " Oh, yes. That's Joe Cameron's house, I reckon. 
 Him an' Mollie lived thar. Did ye hear about it ? " 
 
 " No, I didn't. How was it ? " 
 
 " Wall, hit was thisaway. Joe an* Moll they got 
 married an' lived up thar, an' Moll was allers sorter 
 quare. She was sorter cold lack, but she could love 
 an' hate lack death, only she didn't show hit lack 
 other folks. An' wen Joe died, two year ago las' 
 winter, she acted so you couldn't har'ly tell wether 
 she keered or not. But we knowed she did, a 
 heap." 
 
 " Them's the kind that keers the most, a heap 
 o' times," said Elizabeth. 
 
 " Yes, an' she did. She wouldn't live nowhurs 
 but jes' thar, an' she lived thar an' sometimes uster 
 go out an' sleep on Joe's grave. Did yer see Joe's 
 grave under the pine ? " 
 
 " I seed some graves there," said Elizabeth. 
 
A Great and Forgotten Battle 243 
 
 " Yas, thar's two thar now. Time o' the battle, 
 a year ago, Moll come down here with three peck 
 o' beans she wanted my ole man to pack for her 
 to the store when he was a-goin' light, an' wen 
 she got back the battle was on, an' she couldn't 
 git home till night, an' when she did fin'ly git thar, 
 the rebs had burned her house an' the baby in it." 
 
 " What did she do ? " 
 
 " Do ? Good laws a massy, you'd better ast 
 what she didn't do ! She warn't jes' rightly at 
 herself afore, an' wen that happened, she jes' went 
 stark crazy, an' she wandered all over the moun- 
 ting, astin' folks ef they'd seed Joe or the baby. 
 The neighbors uster pack her up somethin' to 
 eat, an' the teamsters sorter got to know her, an* 
 lef her a snack now an' then. But wen winter 
 come we was all mighty nigh starved out, with 
 what the armies had et up, an' we tried to look 
 atter her, but some days we didn't see her. An' 
 we made her a sorter shelter by the grave, but a 
 heap o' times she wouldn't sleep in hit, an' one 
 mornin' atter a storm that froze everythin' hard, 
 an' the ice so slick you couldn't har'ly stan', let 
 alone climb the mounting, my ole man started up 
 with somethin' fur her to eat, an' he found her 
 dead, froze stiff on Joe's grave. He come back, 
 an' he says, says he, ' Pore Moll, I reckon she's 
 found Joe an' the baby.' " 
 
 Elizabeth rode on in silence. 
 
 " I won't tell Jack an' Jennie," she said to her- 
 self; " it wouldn't do no good, an' it would make 
 'em feel bad." 
 
XXII 
 
 The Secret of the Sinks 
 
 IT is not always the largest event which fills the 
 largest angle in memory. The little village of 
 Manchester forgot a hundred thrilling and im- 
 portant events of the war even before its close, 
 they trod so on each other's heels. There was 
 always something happening about the salt works, 
 three miles away, where the water from saline 
 springs, piped through wooden spouts, is boiled 
 down by a process painfully slow, and whatever 
 affected the salt works affected Manchester ; for he 
 who enters the Goose Creek Valley has the option 
 of going up the creek or down the creek, with the 
 further provision of frequent fording of the creek, 
 whichever way he goes. But some minor events 
 were never forgotten. For instance, it is remem- 
 bered by many, and mentioned always with sadness 
 and something akin to horror, that when George 
 W. Morgan was retreating with his Union army 
 from Cumberland Gap, and John H. Morgan with 
 his dauntless riders was hanging on his flanks, just 
 as the Union troops were preparing to move out of 
 Manchester, where they had halted for a day, there 
 was a pause caused bv the execution of a Union 
 soldier who had murdered a comrade. The very 
 minute that the fatal shots were fired by ten 
 soldiers, five of whose guns were loaded and the 
 
 244 
 
The Secret of the Sinks 245 
 
 rest blank, as if in echo of their shots, there came 
 the sound of the firing of the Confederate cavalry, 
 attacking one of the Union wagon trains. 
 
 Many men in and about Manchester lost their 
 lives during those terrible four years ; and they were 
 buried and forgotten. But so long as the world 
 stands, the village will not forget the incident of the 
 retreating army shooting one of its own soldiers, 
 and the two antiphonal volleys that seemed more 
 awful than the roar of a battle. 
 
 It was on the night before that very morning in 
 September, 1862, that an incident occurred which has 
 always been remembered as in some measure distinct 
 from the other events of the war as they affected the 
 life of Roundstone Holler. To Roundstone it was 
 the climax of the war, and it gave to the Sinks a 
 new and unuttered, but awful interest. Besides the 
 men whom the Holler had sent into the Union army, 
 there were some in irregular organizations with oc- 
 casional military experience. Some were old men 
 and boys, organized for home defence under " Cap- 
 tain" Ben Bailey, whose two sons. Lew and Rastus, 
 were in the army. But there were two marauding 
 bands : one of which rendezvoused at Gooserock, 
 across Oxyoke from the Holler, and called itself 
 a band of " Southern Regulators," commanded by 
 Tom Jackson; and the other, which had its head- 
 quarters at Drip Rock Cave, and was under a 
 desperado named Palestine Seagrave, professed 
 Union sympathies. There was little difference be- 
 tween the last two bands. Both were lawless, and 
 both fought for plunder. Their choice of sides was 
 relative, and not absolute, excepting as the mutual 
 
246 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 hatred engendered made adherence to one set of 
 principles compulsory. Both bodies hated Old 
 Ben and his band, which had dealt out summary 
 justice to one or two members of each. But each 
 had enough to occupy the attention of the dozen or 
 twenty desperadoes who composed it, without court- 
 ing direct conflict with him and his larger company, 
 which numbered near fourscore loyal boys and old 
 men from Roundstone Holler and five miles round 
 about. Up on the top of Scalp Dance Hill he 
 lived, in a secluded and naturally fortified place 
 selected by his grandfather, who had been Round- 
 stone's first white settler. Just at the end of the 
 path which is practically the only way to gain access 
 to his house, are the Sinks, Roundstone's everlast- 
 ing mystery, where the creek disappears under the 
 Jellico Mountain. Back of the house, in the edge 
 of the timber, stood Captain Ben's still. This has 
 been destroyed thrice in recent years by revenue 
 officers, in league, as the family believe, with the 
 devil and the makers of the infamous red whiskey 
 from Cincinnati. It was a poor return on the part 
 of the government, all the Baileys believe, for their 
 services in the time of the war ; and they have given 
 several revenue officers what they count their just 
 deserts. At the time when Captain Ben was in his 
 prime, revenue officers were unknown in the Holler. 
 There were no worse things then than rattlesnakes, 
 panthers, and bushwhackers. From his house Ben 
 could view the whole surrounding region, and 
 from here the blast of his horn would be heard two 
 miles on a clear day, and further yet at night ; 
 and the word was passed on by the women, while 
 
The Secret of the Sinks 247 
 
 the men hastened with incredible speed to their 
 trysting place at the Sinks, where the roads meet 
 that come down the valley on both sides of the creek. 
 
 The two bands of Jackson and Seagrave con- 
 tinued their depredations until the autumn of '62, 
 ranging further and further from home under the 
 growing and wholesome fear of Captain Ben, and 
 alv/ays with mutual hatred and some fighting of 
 each other. When Kirby Smith invaded Ken- 
 tucky, however, the band that called itself Union 
 thought it time to consider the soundness of its 
 politics, and when Cumberland Gap was evacuated 
 and the Union troops were fleeing northward with 
 the Confederate cavalry dogging their flanks, the 
 error of their previous affiliation seemed manifest. 
 So there was a determination on the part of the 
 men to fall in with the Confederate rear and plunder 
 the Union baggage trains. 
 
 Against this proposed course, so the story goes, 
 for it is derived from somewhat meagre data, and 
 for obvious reasons when the sequel is known, the 
 captain. Pal Seagrave, protested. Whether from 
 a lingering spark of conscience, or from a conviction 
 that the interests of the plunderers would best be 
 served by remaining as they were, he sat on his 
 horse, and swore to shoot any man who went to 
 the rebels, and ordered them into their saddles for 
 a long ride. They were hardly mounted when they 
 came face to face with Tom Jackson's command, 
 en route for Manchester, where they hoped to find 
 opportunity to plunder the Union rear as it moved 
 on. Both sides drew their weapons, and a battle 
 seemed imminent, when Pal called a truce. 
 
248 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " Looky here, Tom Jackson," he said, " these 
 here men o' mine is bound ter go with the South. 
 I swore I wouldn't go, an' I could er held 'em ef 
 hit hadn't a ben for meetin' you. They'll go now, 
 sure. Fur I know mighty well ef the shootin' be- 
 gins here right now, some o' these hell hounds o' 
 my own'U shoot me so's to go to the devil along o' 
 you. Now, they hain't no use o' these men killin' 
 each other. They mought's well go together. 
 But they cyan't have but one captain, an' considerin' 
 the past, this earth hain't big enough to hold both 
 you an' me. Draw yer pistol, or you're a dead 
 man 1 
 
 At the word both men drew, and Jackson fell 
 at the first fire. 
 
 Still holding his smoking pistol, Seagrave said: 
 
 " Men, I'm yer captain now. I jes' want ye to 
 bury the hatchet, an' let bygones be bygones, an' 
 I'll lead ye to Manchester agin the Yanks. But 
 ef they's ary man that objects to me fur captain, let 
 him say so right here." 
 
 He cocked his pistol and waited for a reply. 
 There were some dark looks from the newer con- 
 tingent whose recent commander he had just shot, 
 but no man questioned his right to command. He 
 proceeded : 
 
 " The Yanks is a tryin' to drive a lot o' beef 
 cattle afoot through the mountings to the Ohio 
 River. Ye didn't know that, did ye ? Wall, I 
 knowed hit. An' I know whar they'll stop to- 
 night, too. An' I allow ter be thar about sunup 
 or a hour afore, an' see ef we cyan't scatter them 
 cattle in the woods, an' pick 'em up later on." 
 
The Secret of the Sinks 249 
 
 This announcement evoked interest from even 
 the new members of his command, and a yell of 
 approval from the old ones. 
 
 " Now, you men, I don't want ye to go ter 
 openin' no old sores. I want each detachment to 
 elect a leftenant ter command that part o' the com- 
 pany, an' I'll command the hull. An' when ye git 
 that done an' a grave dug, I wanter tell ye some- 
 thin' else that'll interest ye all, an' be a sorter frolic 
 fur early in the evenin'." 
 
 They rode aside into the woods, and scooped out 
 a shallow grave, where they buried Captain Tom, 
 as brave and wicked a man as ever escaped the 
 hangman, and soon were deep in the more conge- 
 nial work of electing officers. Pal sat on his horse 
 between the two bands, as they separated to decide, 
 each for itself, who should be its second officer. 
 When they had made their choices, they came to- 
 gether, and he announced the decisions for the rati- 
 fication of the united company, called the men 
 elected to his side, and laid out his plan for the 
 campaign. After a brief conference with his offi- 
 cers, he addressed the company : 
 
 " Men, we've got something ter submit fur yer 
 approval. Yer don't none on ye bar no love p'tic'- 
 lar to Ben Bailey. Now afore we leave these parts 
 ter be gone a spell, an' while the Union folks is all 
 mixed up, let's visit him to-night afore we start, an' 
 git a drink an' settle his hash. Then ef we want, 
 we kin fetch our cattle back here with some sorter 
 safety, an' pasture them in the coves about Goose- 
 rock, but hit won't be no use as long as he lives." 
 
 There could have been no better way of cement- 
 
250 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 ing the sympathies of his lately united band than by 
 such a proposition. It was received with the great- 
 est enthusiasm, and the rest of the day was spent in 
 perfecting the organization and equipment of the 
 company, preparatory to this and a more extended 
 expedition. 
 
 The mountain soldier had the limitations of his 
 virtues, among which was his tendency to drop out 
 of the ranks for a day or two, whenever his regiment 
 passed near his home. Usually, knowing well the 
 mountain roads and passes, they had no difficulty in 
 overtaking their regiments, a few days' march further 
 on. Jack Casey and Lew and Rastus Bailey came 
 through Oxyoke Gap that day, and intended to 
 stop for a night and part of a day, having learned 
 that the Union van would halt for a short rest at 
 Manchester while the wagon trains came up. There 
 was mingled joy and sadness at the Whitley cabin 
 over the return of Jack and the doleful retreat. To 
 give up the Gap, seemed like the carrying away of 
 the gates of Gaza, and they knew well to dread the 
 flying foxes with firebrands at their tails. But 
 they had learned to take disappointments as a 
 matter of course, and they made the most of their 
 meeting. It was near night when Jack came, and 
 the supper was soon past, and he and his mother 
 and Jennie and Cub sat together about the fire, for 
 the night was cool, and fuel, thank God, was plenty, 
 spite of the war ! 
 
 Up on the hill above the Sinks, Ben Bailey talked 
 with his sons, as they sat in the firelight, but with 
 the doors barred as ever. The old man was bitter 
 in his comments on the evacuation. 
 
The Secret of the Sinks 251 
 
 " Nothin' ter eat but mules ? " he cried ; "wall, let 
 'em eat mules, then ! Marion and his men — yer 
 gran pap was one on 'em — would have ben glad 
 o' mules ! But talk o' bein' starved out, an' yit 
 a-drivin' off hull droves o' cattle! By mighty, 
 hit's a shame ! " 
 
 The young men attempted some mild defence of 
 the retreat, when the old man's ear caught a sound. 
 Without a word, and with a gesture for silence and 
 obedience, he rose, took down his rifle and re- 
 volvers, and slipped out through the shed room 
 at the back of the house. The sons took their 
 guns and followed. A minute later the house was 
 surrounded by armed men, who first made sure 
 that every way of escape was cut off, and then 
 began demanding admittance. Quickly and noise- 
 lessly the three men slipped to the edge of the 
 clearing, where they had a view of the door, and 
 then looked back, just as the door was opened 
 from within and a gleam of light shot out. 
 
 " Hit tain't the sojers, boys," said the old man ; 
 " hit's Pal Seagrave's gang. We'll move over 
 the rocks an' down the path to the Sinks, an' 
 knock them galley west ! Don't fire now ! " 
 
 There was a howl of rage when the guerillas 
 gained the interior of the house and found that 
 Ben was not there. They threatened and abused 
 his wife and daughters, demanding to know where 
 he was hidden, but could learn nothing. At that 
 moment, the sound of a horn broke the silence of 
 the night, so full and clear that it must have been 
 heard for miles. The band knew the sound and 
 feared it. 
 
252 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " Less go," they said. 
 
 " Stop ! " said Seagrave. " Before we go, there's 
 one thing I kin do, anyhow. I'll burn out this 
 vile nest ! You women, git out o' here ! " 
 
 Driving them out, he took the tongs and lifted 
 the forelog into the furthest corner of the room, 
 where it soon began to blaze, then rolled out the 
 backlog into the middle of the floor, and scattered 
 the brands in every direction. The bandits waited 
 to be sure that the fire had made such headway as 
 to prevent the women's returning to put it out. 
 Afterward they hastily visited the still, and filled 
 their stomachs and canteens, and then rode down 
 the mountain. It was steep and rugged, and the 
 way was narrow and rocky. It was the only way 
 in which an equestrian could get to or from the 
 house, and a very difficult one at that. Ben had 
 counted on this fact when he decided to slip down 
 the hill and give battle at the Sinks. From homes 
 near and far men started at the sound of his horn. 
 They knew where to assemble, but had they been 
 in doubt, the light from the burning house soon 
 formed a second signal. No watch-fire ever kindled 
 on Scalp Dance Hill — and many had been lighted 
 there in the early days — shone out more widely 
 or brought more eager response than that flame. 
 
 " Go up the road to the left. Lew," said Ben, 
 " and you, Rastus, go to the right. Stop the men 
 that come, an' have them range to cover the Sinks 
 on both sides. Don't let a man git by ! Don't 
 fire till ye hear my gun from the mushroom rock 
 above the Sinks. Then pick yer men, an' fire fast 
 an sure ! 
 
The Secret of the Sinks 253 
 
 Jack Casey sat by the fire with his mother and 
 Jennie. Cub had just gone to bed. Suddenly they 
 heard a sound, and Jack started. 
 
 "What's that?" he asked. 
 
 " That's Captain Ben's horn," said the women. 
 
 Jack took his gun from the antlers, and started 
 without another word. 
 
 " Jack," said his mother. He half turned at 
 the door with a look of inquiry. 
 
 " Yes, go," she said. 
 
 Fast as Jack went, there were others there before 
 him, and Lew Bailey was there, just as the flames 
 began to break out of the house, assigning the men 
 their stations according to his father's orders. Others 
 came, some on foot and some on horseback, till 
 there were a dozen on that side, and no less a com- 
 pany out of sight on the other side. The flames 
 were now leaping high, and the light shone down 
 the mountain, lighting the road above the Sinks as 
 if it had been noon. In his haste and passion. Pal 
 Seagrave had lighted his own funeral pyre. The 
 bandits felt their hearts quail as they emerged from 
 the darkness of the long defile down the mountain 
 side into the glare of light that was like the eye 
 of God. Yet they were not without hope that 
 their work had been too quickly performed for the 
 gathering of any large body of Ben's men. But 
 Pal Seagrave thought of the man whom he had shot 
 that day, and felt in his heart that he was riding to 
 his doom. 
 
 A hundred yards up the hill above the Sinks, 
 behind a rock that shaded and hid him, but with 
 the whole scene in view, Ben Bailey crouched with 
 
254 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 his rifle and two revolvers. He watched the caval- 
 cade as it wound its way down, the horses stumbling 
 over rocks in the haste of their riders; and picking 
 out the hindmost he levelled his gun at him. Then 
 suddenly changing his mind, he turned it upon the 
 man at the head of the company, just as he was 
 turning from the hill road into the glare of the main 
 road above the Sinks. He drew a careful bead. 
 The knife-blade sight on the muzzle just showed in 
 the notch of the hindsight, and he pulled the trigger. 
 Pal Seagrave threw up his hands with a cry, and 
 reeled in his saddle, and fell. The men in the rear 
 halted an instant in indecision, and the last one 
 dropped, struck by Ben's first pistol shot. At the 
 same instant, from both sides of the road, there was 
 a volley of bullets, sent with unerring aim, out of 
 the darkness that was like pitch, into the fatal glare 
 of light that had come to seem unearthly. Those 
 that survived the first fire made a wild rush, some 
 on one side the Sinks, and some on the other, hop- 
 ing to escape while the men reloaded ; but these 
 were picked off by a scattering fire, and in the rear 
 was Ben with his two six shooters, and an aim that 
 never missed. It was short and bloody work. 
 Then Ben blew his horn, and, leaping to the top of 
 the rock, gave his orders for the securing the fright- 
 ened horses. These were soon tethered to swing- 
 ing limbs, excepting those that had escaped back 
 up the hill, which were safe enough, and could be 
 found in the morning. 
 
 Then Ben came down to the Sinks, and his men 
 gathered about him, amid the dead and wounded, — 
 if there were any wounded. 
 
The Secret of the Sinks 255 
 
 " Men," said Ben, "we've done a clean job, an' 
 the world is a heap better off. An' hit won't do 
 nary grain o' good ter have nothin' said about hit, 
 considerin' how the war seems to be goin'. Stand 
 out here in the light, every man o' you, an' take off 
 yer hats with yer left hand, an' raise yer right hand 
 ter heaven, an' swear ter God that ye won't tell 
 livin' man what we've done, nor what we've got ter 
 do yit, an' we'll finish this job while we're at it." 
 
 " Pa," interposed Lew. 
 
 " Shet up ! " said Ben. " I don't take my orders 
 from men that's ben trained under officers that gives 
 up the Gap ! You an' Lew go up ter the house an' 
 keep the women thar a spell, an' see ter gittin' 'em 
 a place ter sleep." 
 
 " I'll go too," said Jack. " They can stay at our 
 house to-night." 
 
 " Yes, you go too. We've got our own ways o' 
 fightin', an' know how ter do it." 
 
 The young men ascended the hill, securing two 
 horses as they went. 
 
 " What d'ye reckon he 'lows to do ? " asked 
 Jack, with a feeling of horror. 
 
 " The Sinks," said Lew, grimly. 
 
 " Wounded an' all ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " I don't reckon we'd best ter ast wether they 
 be any wounded," said Rastus. 
 
 At the top of the hill they found Mrs. Bailey 
 and her three daughters, and conducted them by a 
 narrow and perilous foot-path along the ridge and 
 down to the Whitley home. There they spent the 
 night, but no one slept save Cub. The women 
 asked a few questions, and took the enigmatical 
 
2^6 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 answers as did the women in twenty other homes. 
 The fire burned down after a while, and no one 
 came up from the Sinks. Late arrivals in answer 
 to Ben's horn were met by sentinels, saying that 
 the fire was over, and they were to go quietly back 
 to their homes. The sun had risen before there 
 was any return of the men who had been left at 
 work, but there was evident activity about the Sinks 
 all night, as shown by the light of the torches. 
 Then the whole company rode up to the Whitley 
 gate, and partook of the corn pones which Eliza- 
 beth had baked for them, anticipating their need of 
 a warm bite as they went home. They came to 
 the fence and stopped for a moment. Every man 
 was mounted, and those who -had ridden the night 
 before, now each led a horse. There was not a 
 word about the fight. 
 
 " We had a right bad fire, didn't we ? " asked 
 Job Crosby. 
 
 " Yes," said young Moses Davis, with a faint 
 facetiousness. " Wha' d'ye reckon sot it ? Light- 
 nm r 
 
 "No, ye fool," said Captain Ben, "they warn't 
 no lightnin' las' night. The forelog rolled out onter 
 the floor, an' the house ketched from that." 
 
 That remained the authentic explanation, and the 
 fire on Scalp Dance Hill entered into the history 
 of the Holler without specific mention of attendant 
 circumstances. There was a raising a few days after, 
 and Captain Ben furnished his new home, quite as 
 well as his old abode, with the proceeds of two 
 horses which he sold, — the one in London, and the 
 other at Barboursville, — and the still was again in 
 
The Secret of the Sinks. Page 257. 
 
The Secret of the Sinks 257 
 
 successful operation, as the good feehng at the rais- 
 ing attested. 
 
 The two bands of Seagrave and Jackson were 
 missed at once from the neighborhood, and the 
 story that they had fallen in with the rear of the 
 Confederate army accounted for their absence to 
 complete satisfaction. But this information was 
 conveyed with a quiet suggestion that their return 
 need not be expected. The Holler breathed more 
 freely after that, and one horror of the war was re- 
 moved. As to what finally became of them, there 
 are two theories extant — one that they joined 
 "John Morgan's Horse-thieves" in a body, and 
 were killed or captured in one of his raids ; and the 
 other that perhaps old Ben knew something about it. 
 
 Jack and the Bailey boys went on that day and 
 rejoined their regiment near Manchester. They 
 noticed as they passed the Sinks that there was 
 fresh earth here and there that might have covered 
 blood stains, and that certain rocks were wet from 
 recent washing; but there were no other signs of the 
 conflict, and the Sinks seemed to moan more sadly 
 than was their wont, but told no tales. 
 
XXIII 
 
 In Secret Service 
 
 THE winter of 1862 found Jack and his 
 Kentucky friends with their regiments in 
 Nashville. General George W. Morgan 
 had fallen under criticism for his desertion 
 of Cumberland Gap, and had been relieved from 
 his command. General Buell had been censured 
 for not following up his victory at Perryville, and 
 for allowing Bragg and Smith to leave Kentucky 
 with rich stores of provisions and hundreds of fine 
 horses, and had been succeeded by Rosecrans. 
 Andrew Johnson was opposed to Carter, and had 
 asked to have him removed to make room for 
 General Spears ; and Carter was placed in command 
 of a hastily organized brigade of cavalry, with which 
 he made a brilliant raid into East Tennessee, and 
 returned with his small command to Kentucky. 
 Meantime his old brigade was taken to the front, 
 and for a time hung in mid-air with little to do or 
 hope for. 
 
 A feeling of discouragement had settled on the 
 army and the country. Men were deserting by 
 thousands. Soldiers surrendered without provoca- 
 tion for the sake of being paroled, and thus released 
 from further military duty. The army had lost 
 confidence in its leaders and in its own esprit de 
 corps. The idea of a ninety days' picnic was efFectu- 
 
 258 
 
In Secret Service 259 
 
 ally gone, and in its place as yet had come no spirit, 
 such as afterward manifested itself, of intense and 
 dogged patriotism, capable of enduring a series of 
 reverses. 
 
 " Looky yan. Jack !" cried Joe Hallet one day. 
 " See them fellers in nightcaps ! " 
 
 A dozen men in uniform, with white cotton night- 
 caps on their heads, were marching down the streets 
 of Nashville and among the camps, preceded by a 
 fife and drum playing " Dixie," and followed by a 
 band of hooting little darkies. 
 
 "Who d'ye reckon them fellers be ? " asked Eph 
 Whitley. 
 
 " Some fellers in disgrace, I reckon," answered 
 Jack. 
 
 Inquiry developed the fact that these were men 
 who had surrendered for the sake of being paroled, 
 and on their return to camp they had been sentenced 
 to bear this punishment by order of General Rose- 
 crans. The incident had its result in a very general 
 discouragement of needless paroles. 
 
 " We hain't the only fellers that surrenders to 
 keep from fightin'," said Lew Bailey. 
 
 " We hain't the fellers that does it a tall," said 
 Jack. 
 
 "I know we hain't; but I meant the rebs does 
 hit as well as the Yanks." 
 
 " That's so. They git mighty tard o' the war ; 
 'specially them that's ben forced inter the army." 
 
 " Warn't hit you. Jack, that marched them seven 
 fellers inter camp at the Gap ? " 
 
 " Yes, but it warn't but mighty little credit to 
 me," said Jack. 
 
26o A Hero in Homespun 
 
 "I never heerd jes' huccum ye to git 'em. How 
 was It r 
 
 "I've tole it a heap o' times," said Jack; "I 
 reckoned all the fellers had heerd it. I'm shame- 
 faced to tell it agin." 
 
 Most of his companions in the barracks had heard 
 it ; but a good story was much prized in those days 
 of camp tedium, and Jack told his adventure. 
 
 " Wall, it was when we was holdin' the Gap, an' 
 meant to keep a-holdin' it. One day, long in the 
 last o' August, I got outside the lines down by 
 Powell's River, an' I got sorter tard walkin' an' was 
 powerful hot, an' I come to a place whar the water 
 run deep, an' looked cool an' nice, an' thinks I, I'll 
 jes' have a swim. So I tuk off my does, an' went 
 in. I didn't 'low they was a reb in ten mile o' where 
 I was, an' I splashed, an' dove, an' had a mighty 
 good time. I hadn't had a swim all summer, an' 
 it felt mighty good. Wall, I was in there, an' 
 a-gittin' 'bout ready to come out, an' I looks up ter 
 the bank, an' I sees some fellers in but' nut come 
 down to the bank where my does was. They pinted 
 thar guns at me, an' yelled, — 
 
 " ' Hey, thar, you infernal Yank ! Come in outen 
 the wet ! ' 
 
 " Wall, thinks I, they hain't no use a-talkin', I 
 cyan't fight a hull reg'maint, naked as I was. So I 
 says, ' I s'render. Lemme come ashore an' git on 
 my does,' says I. So I went ashore, an' they stud 
 around me while I dressed, sorter pokin' fun at me 
 fur gettin' ketched thataway, an' I was a-feelin' 
 mighty peaked myself When I got my does on, 
 one on 'em says, 
 
In Secret Service 261 
 
 " * You're mighty shore you've s'rendered, be ye ? ' 
 
 "' I hain't no manner o' doubt of it,' says I. ' I 
 wisht I had.' 
 
 " ' Wall,' says he, an' he an' t'other fellers was 
 sorter a-laughin' all the while. ' So do we,' says 
 he. * Thishyer war's played out,' says he. ' We've 
 had ter fight so fur,' says he, ' or go south ter 
 prison ; but it's gittin' mighty tarsome,' says he. 
 ' Now,' says he, ' we're your prisoners, an' you jes' 
 surround us, an' take us inter camp.' So I tuck 
 'em ter camp. They warn't but seven on 'em when 
 I come to count 'em ; but when I was in the water, 
 an' they had their guns pinted at me, 'peared lack 
 they was a reg'maint." 
 
 " What did they do with 'em in camp ? " asked 
 a soldier. 
 
 " I d'livered 'em up to Cun'l Byrd ; an' he says, 
 ' It's a plumb shame to send them fellers north to 
 prison,' says he. ' I'll parole 'em an' send 'em 
 home,' says he. But they dassent go home, that 
 was the trouble. So he ast Gin'ral Carter 'bout it ; 
 an' Carter he sends fur me, an' he says to the 
 men, ' Whar ye from ? ' says he. ' From Morgan 
 County, East Tennessy,' says they. ' I know 
 Morgan County,' says he. ' They hain't no rebels 
 there,' says he. * We was rebels 'cause we hadter 
 be,' says they. ' We're in favor o' the Union,' says 
 they ; ' but last Apri/*? we was a-tryin' to git inter 
 Kaintuck to enlist, an' we was captured, an' gin 
 our choice to go south to prison, or to enlist ; 
 an' we enHsted fer the rebels.' ' Wall,' says Carter, 
 ' I'd parole ye ef I could send ye home. But that 
 hain't no use : they'd pester ye to death.' Says 
 
262 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 he, ' Would ye enlist in the Union army ef ye had 
 a chance ? ' They all said they'd be glad to do it, 
 an' he tuck 'em in. 
 
 " An' I bet a pone he hadn't no better men than 
 them was, too." 
 
 " While you was foolin' 'round the Gap," said 
 Eph, " we fellers was ketchin' it at Richmond and 
 Perryville." 
 
 " I reckon Perryville was right smart of a scrim- 
 mage," said Jack. 
 
 " Ef any man's ben in a fight like that," said 
 Eph, "an' says he wants another, he's a blame liar." 
 
 " You must a got badly skeered there," said Jack. 
 
 " 1 was skeered to death fus' gun went off. Afore 
 night I didn't mind it no more'n the blowin' o' the 
 wind. But I warn't any less skeered. A feller gits 
 so skeered atter while hit skeers all the skeer outen 
 him." 
 
 "You warn't skeered, war you. Lew?" asked 
 Jack. " I've heerd you stood up behind the wall 
 when every feller that showed an inch o' hat was 
 shot through the head, an' you yelled to the fellers 
 not to run." 
 
 " So skeered I didn't know whether I was foot 
 or hossback." 
 
 " It takes a brave man," said Jack, "to own that 
 he is skeered." 
 
 " I dunno wy a feller should be skeered," said 
 Zeke Holcomb, who was a notorious coward in 
 time of danger, but a man of prodigious courage 
 afterward. " I fit at Perryville, an' I warn't skeered." 
 
 " Ye hadn't no call ter be," said Sim Galloway, 
 who was lately returned from his wound. 
 
In Secret Service 263 
 
 " Where was you, at Perryville, Sim ? " asked 
 Jack. 
 
 " I was part way in a holler log, bigges' part the 
 time," said Sim. They looked at his pale face and 
 laughed, for they knew how he had received his 
 nearly fatal wound. 
 
 " Why didn't ye git clar in, Sim ? " asked Eph. 
 
 " I got in as fur's I could," said Sim, quietly. 
 " Zeke Hocum was in ahead o' me." 
 
 Sim seldom indulged in a joke ; but this one 
 made his reputation as a humorist, and Roundstone 
 quotes it to this day concerning Zeke Holcomb 
 and his descendants. 
 
 " You fellers that fit at Perryville didn't waste no 
 love on Gin'ral Buell, did ye ? " asked Jack, as the 
 laugh ceased. 
 
 " Ye could put it all in yer eye," said Eph. 
 " Ever see him ? " 
 
 " I seed him wunct," said Lew. " While we was 
 a-movin' to-wards Perryville a new reg'maint — the 
 75th Eelinois — stopped at a well ter fill their can- 
 teens. We was right behind, and they was delayin' 
 the hull column. Buell he rode up an' ordered 
 'em ter move on. But they was plumb crazy fur 
 water. Buell he tries ter ride up to the well ter cut 
 off the bucket, an' he couldn't force his hoss through. 
 I seed them fellers look at him, tryin' ter ride over 
 'em, an' heerd some on 'em swar ter kill him the 
 fus' battle. That same reg'maint was put in the 
 front at Perryville, — raw men, jes' out from home 
 — an' they fit well. They lost three hundred men 
 that day." 
 
 " I seed Buell fust dav o' the Perryville fight," 
 
2,64 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 said Eph. " We'd had a scrimmage to get to a 
 puddle in the dry bed o' Doctor's Creek. We'd 
 druv off the rebs, an' got a drink, an' filled our 
 canteens. Wen we got inter camp I says to myself, 
 ' I'd as lives have half that water outside o' me as 
 inside,' an' I poured out half a canteen full inter a 
 tin, an' got off my shirt for a bath. Jes' then some 
 one stopped afore the tent an' yelled, ' Pour back 
 that water!' I looked out, an' thar sot Gin'ral 
 Buell. Says he, 'When men are fightin' an' dyin' 
 for a drink, water's too sacred to use fur a bath.' 
 I poured hit back inter my canteen, an' next mornin' 
 I needed it for wounded men." 
 
 "He had mighty little patience with new men," 
 said Jack ; " but he was a brave man an' a good 
 gin'ral. You lost your flag at Perryville, didn't you, 
 Eph ? " 
 
 " Lost hit by gittin' it shot to pieces. That was 
 the flag the Gov'maint furnished. We still got the 
 one the women made." 
 
 " You best keep that, or you'll ketch Jesse from 
 Joe and Becky." 
 
 An orderly came up to the door of the barracks, 
 and asked for Jackson Casey. 
 
 " That's me," said Jack. 
 
 "You are commanded to report for immediate 
 duty at the office of Colonel Truesdail," said the 
 messenger. 
 
 " Who's he ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " Don't you know who Colonel Truesdail is ? 
 He is the chief of the army police," said the orderly. 
 
 "All right, I'll go. Good-by, boys. I'll meet 
 ye in Chattanoogy an' keep Christmas week." 
 
In Secret Service 265 
 
 " Good-by, Jack, ef ye don' come back. Hanged 
 ef I don' wish he'd send fur me. I'm tard a-doin' 
 nothin'." 
 
 Jack promptly reported, and was made acquainted 
 with his business. The chief of the secret service 
 watched him narrowly as he talked. 
 
 " Did General Carter send you on special service 
 into the enemy's country last spring ^ " 
 
 " Yessir." 
 
 " You are a Tennesseean ? " 
 
 " Yessir. Easi Tennessy." 
 
 " I want you to go with another man, whom I 
 have sent for, and who will be here soon, and find 
 what you can of the movements of the rebel forces 
 about Murfreesboro. Find whether they are going 
 into winter quarters, or are likely to attack us. Find 
 the condition of their horses, the feeling of their 
 troops, and the sentiment of the people between 
 here and there. Keep to the east of Murfreesboro. 
 Don't try to enter the rebel lines. I have other 
 men who are to do that. I have yet others who 
 are to observe their movements to the west. Go 
 as far as Smithville, and if you are able, get on to 
 McMinnville, and be back in a week. The man 
 with whom I send you is a man I know, a Ken- 
 tuckian named Abe Ryan. He ought to be here 
 now. Here he comes. No, I am mistaken. Stay 
 here till I return." 
 
 The colonel rose and greeted the man who en- 
 tered. " Good morning, Captain Garnett," he said, 
 and the two retired together to an inner room, 
 where they were closeted for some time. Jack 
 marked this man Garnett well. He was tall, dark, 
 
266 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 and reserved, but had an eye that took in every 
 detail of his surroundings, and Jack took him at 
 once to be a spy of importance. 
 
 While they were thus engaged, an orderly showed 
 another man into the room where Jack was sitting. 
 Jack conjectured that the newcomer was his com- 
 panion, Abe Ryan, and this conjecture proved 
 correct. 
 
 Soon Colonel Truesdail came to the door, and 
 parted from his guest on the threshold. 
 
 " From now until Christmas," said he, " give us 
 every possible detail. But do not needlessly risk 
 yourself. Remember, you play against heavy 
 odds." 
 
 The dark man said little, but went out, and the 
 two men in waiting were invited in. 
 
 Colonel Truesdail explained their duties more at 
 length. They were to proceed in citizen's cloth- 
 ing around the Confederate army, taking note of 
 the outposts and sources of supply, observing the 
 country, and learning what they could from the 
 people. They were to keep together, if possible, 
 and if they separated from force of circumstances, 
 they should make their way back as best they 
 could, with all the information they could gather. 
 Their ostensible errand south was to look after 
 property in Chattanooga, concerning which the 
 colonel had information in captured papers. 
 They were to impersonate the two sons of a 
 man who had recently died there, coming from 
 Kentucky to attend to their father's estate. The 
 clippings from some Chattanooga papers, with 
 certain captured letters which he gave to them, 
 
In Secret Service 267 
 
 were to be their vouchers if they needed to account 
 for themselves. 
 
 Studying these, they were able to make a very 
 fair story of their errand, and donning the clothes 
 provided for them, dark gray suits of Kentucky 
 jeans, they set forth. 
 
 They spent their first night with a man named 
 Hooper, suspected of being a rebel sympathizer, 
 who lived on the bank of Sam's Creek, some 
 twenty miles from Nashville. They found these 
 suspicions unjust. Hooper was a true Union man, 
 and poor almost to the point of starvation, and ac- 
 cepted gladly the money they paid him for their 
 lodging, yet with regret that his poverty made 
 necessary any limit to his hospitality. From him 
 they learned of the frequent escape of Confederate 
 prisoners confined in the penitentiary at Nashville, 
 and of the way in which they were set across the 
 river by a neighbor named Rook. 
 
 Still further south they found what had been a 
 good farming country well stripped of provisions 
 by the Confederates, who seemed to be massing 
 at Murfreesboro. The third night they stayed 
 together in a little tavern in Smithville. They 
 had proceeded without molestation, and were gain- 
 ing information every hour. Another day's ad- 
 vance, they thought, would be enough, and would 
 enable them to return by another route, and they 
 hoped with equal security. 
 
 They went to the dingy little room that was 
 assigned them, and found no lock on the door. 
 
 " Never mind," said Ryan, " I've got a little 
 trick here that's good for that." 
 
268 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 He shut the door, and drew from his pocket a 
 gimlet, which he screwed into the crack between the 
 door and the casing, turning the handle so as to 
 leave a bar across the edge of the door. 
 
 They removed their outer clothing and lay down ; 
 but they were hardly asleep before there was a pound- 
 ing at the door. 
 
 " Hey, thar, you blamed Yankee spies ! " cried 
 a voice without. " Open this door, or we'll knock 
 It m ! 
 
 They rose in haste and silence, drawing on their 
 boots and coats. 
 
 " The winder ! " whispered Jack. 
 
 " Yes ! " said Ryan. 
 
 The pounding at the door was increasing, and 
 there were calls for an axe to break it in, when they 
 raised the sash, and slipped through, dropping upon 
 the low roof of the kitchen, which was directly under. 
 Here they crawled to the eaves, and dropped to the 
 ground on the back side of the hotel, but saw, as 
 they slid down the shingles, that the front of the 
 hotel was guarded by a squad of cavalry with pine 
 torches. The night was dark, and it was difficult 
 to keep together. The torches of the soldiers served 
 the spies well, for they marked the position of their 
 pursuers. The two sides of the hotel that were on 
 streets were guarded, but there were no torches in 
 sight to the rear. The prospect of escape seemed 
 good, but the barking of a dog in the stable yard 
 brought a torch around the house, just as the crash 
 of the door showed to the soldiers inside the vacant 
 room, and thus marked at once their escape and the 
 way by which they had gone. 
 
In Secret Service 269 
 
 Across fences and fields they made their way, 
 making pursuit difficult, but losing all sense of direc- 
 tion, and eventually finding themselves pursued as 
 they emerged into the road, taking opposite directions, 
 and losing each other in the dark. Ryan found his 
 way towards Hartsville, and after six days of wander- 
 ing returned to Nashville. Jack wandered all night, 
 and when the morning broke, and he was able to 
 take his bearings, he judged that he was proceeding 
 toward Murfreesboro, a conjecture which he veri- 
 fied at a cabin where he inquired of two elderly 
 people. There he obtained some food, but not 
 without being asked questions, which showed that 
 his hosts were on the side of the south and sus- 
 pected him. He paid for his meal, and bought 
 two pones that were in sight on the table, and 
 stuffed them in his pockets. The old couple 
 warmed a little at sight of his money, but appar- 
 ently were the more suspicious of him for having it. 
 
 Jack hastened away, certain that any inquiries 
 made about him there would be rewarded with 
 exact information concerning him. He had told 
 his Chattanooga story, and started south toward 
 where the road would lead into a pike. But com- 
 ing to the pike, he paused to consider his situation. 
 He had nothing now to gain by going south, so he 
 turned his face northward and followed the pike. 
 
 He soon became convinced that he was pursued. 
 Bands of horsemen were riding along the pike in- 
 quiring at houses as they went, and keeping a sharp 
 lookout at the sides of the road. At the top of 
 every hill he came to the pike, and took a look 
 about and then left the pike for the field or wood. 
 
270 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 Late in the afternoon, as he emerged from a 
 field that had grown up to scrub oak and sassafras, 
 he came back to the pike at the top of a knoll, to 
 find horses tethered to the fence upon the oppo- 
 site side. He drew back into the bushes and 
 looked again. On the opposite side of the road was 
 a small cemetery, and a score or more of people were 
 gathered about an open grave. There were three 
 carriages and a dozen horses. Jack thought quickly. 
 He would get down to the road, where the pike cut 
 through the hill, and mount one of the saddle- 
 horses and ride away. He slipped down into the 
 low cut. He was so near that he could hear the 
 weeping of the friends about the grave, and the tones 
 of the burial service which the minister was repeating. 
 
 Jack hesitated as he stood with his hand on a 
 bridle. To steal a horse was, of course, to be 
 pursued at once, and while he could make a few 
 miles better progress, it was only to have his way 
 ahead made more difficult. He looked about again, 
 and now saw that one of the carriages was of a pattern 
 new to him. Such a thing as a hearse was unknown 
 in his part of Tennessee, and at another place he 
 might not have been able to imagine its use ; 
 but its shape and the nature of the occasion told 
 him at a glance. It was long and low, with a 
 narrow pane of glass on either side, but there was 
 ample opportunity for a man to hide within. He 
 quickly undid the door and crawled inside, fasten- 
 ing the door behind him, and was hardly within 
 before the people began descending from the 
 cemetery, and the driver of the hearse untied his 
 horses and mounted the box. 
 
In Secret Service 271 
 
 " Hello, there ! " Jack heard the voice with the 
 clatter of hoofs beside the hearse. The driver 
 reined in. They had gone not twenty rods from 
 the cemetery. 
 
 " Have you seen a man go along the pike 
 afoot ? " 
 
 " Nary un. Who d'ye want ? " 
 
 " I'm hunting a Yankee spy, and he's come this 
 way." 
 
 " I hain't seed him," said the driver, and started 
 on. Jack gripped the hilt of his pistol and waited 
 the issue, but there was no further inquiry. They 
 passed a sentinel. They were within the Confed- 
 erate lines. They entered a town. The short day 
 drew to a close, and night had fallen when the 
 driver unhitched his horses, and backed the hearse 
 into a shed, growling that it seemed unusually 
 heavy. 
 
XXIV 
 
 Out of the Frying Pan 
 
 JACK crawled out of the hearse, cramped and 
 cold, and cautiously crept into the village. 
 No great time was required to convince him 
 that he was in Murfreesboro, the headquar- 
 ters of General Bragg. His sensations were most 
 unpleasant. He crept along the shadow of the 
 houses, uncomfortable and perplexed. Soon, how- 
 ever, his blood began to move, and with it his 
 courage rose. The streets were full of life. Sol- 
 diers, citizens, and women of the town mingled and 
 moved to and fro, with happy conversation and 
 unrestrained laughter. The people whom he first 
 met regarded him with no suspicion, and Jack at 
 length ceased to avoid them. It was ten days before 
 Christmas, and Murfreesboro was in her best 
 clothes and happiest spirits. Jefferson Davis had 
 just been upon a visit there, and people were 
 coming and going from every part ot the South. 
 The town had never been so festive. The sight of 
 so much good cheer could but infect Jack with 
 something of its own contagion. 
 
 Moreover, he said to himself, while it might 
 have been hard enough for him to have gotten 
 inside the Confederate lines in any ordinary way, 
 and quite as hard to get out, being in, he was 
 probably in as safe a place as he could find south of 
 
 272 
 
Out of the Frying Pan 273 
 
 Nashville. Emboldened by the thought, he walked 
 openly upon the street, meeting people as he had 
 occasion, and attracting no attention. So he re- 
 called to himself his ostensible errand, and prepared 
 to give such account of himself as might be neces- 
 sary. He went to the City Hotel, a brick struct- 
 ure on the public square. It was full, but they 
 directed him to another and less pretentious tavern. 
 
 "Yes, I reckon we can take care of you," said 
 the genial proprietor ; " but we're mighty full. Got 
 two in mighty nigh every room. We can eat you 
 all right, but I ain't right sure if we can sleep you. 
 D'ye mind goin' in with another good man ? Mr. 
 Coburn, can you take in a bed-feller ? Here's a 
 gentleman from Kentucky, just got in from Chat- 
 tanoogy, — missed the stage an' got in late. He 
 looks sorter peaceable. I reckon I'll put him in 
 with you, if nary one of you mind. Mr. Coburn, 
 make you 'quainted with Mr. Saunders. If you 
 two men have any trouble together, jest call on me. 
 I'll settle matters." 
 
 Jack turned to meet his new room-mate, a pleas- 
 ant, well-dressed young fellow who wore his hat on 
 the side of his head, and removing it to shake hands 
 with Jack revealed his hair well oiled and brushed 
 low upon his forehead. He was a bit of a dandy, 
 and looked for a moment askance at Jack's clothes, 
 but was reassured by his face and manner. 
 
 " Glad to meet you, Mr. Saunders," he said to 
 Jack. " I reckon we can get on together." 
 
 " I reckon so," said Jack. " I can stand it ef 
 you can." 
 
 They went to their room, and Jack made his 
 
274 ^ Hero in Homespun 
 
 toilet. He told his story, how he had been to 
 Chattanooga to settle his father's estate and was try- 
 ing to get back to Kentucky, but had no passes 
 further, and must wait for them to come. 
 
 " No trouble to get passes here," said Coburn. 
 " I can get you all you want in a week or two. But 
 the trouble is to get through the Union lines." 
 
 " I can get through them," said Jack, " if I can 
 get out of here." 
 
 " How ? " asked Coburn. 
 
 " I ain't right sure how," said Jack, remembering 
 that he would better not be too confident. " I'll 
 wait a day or two and see what comes to me." 
 
 Coburn told his story with equal readiness. He 
 had been in Murfreesboro several weeks on busi- 
 ness connected with an army contract. He had 
 come to know the guests of the tavern, a number of 
 army officers, and a good many people of the village. 
 He seemed to have money, and, while not over- 
 burdened with wit, was withal a pleasant companion. 
 Jack saw that he looked again at his clothes. 
 
 " I must get some new clothes," he said. " I had 
 a sorter hard time gettin' here, and got these tore 
 and soiled." 
 
 " I'll go with you to-night, if you say so," said 
 Coburn, " and help you pick out some. I know 
 the best place in town." 
 
 Jack gladly accepted the offer. He was well 
 supplied with money, and the suit which he pur- 
 chased was within his means ; but all clothing cost 
 money in the South just then, and Coburn's taste 
 was less modest than his own. 
 
 It thus came to pass that Jack's first appearance 
 
Out of the Frying Pan 275 
 
 in Murfreesboro by daylight was in good attire, and 
 he could not help noticing as he was shaving before 
 the glass that he was not an ill-looking fellow. 
 Coburn noticed it, too, and with satisfaction. He 
 began at once to assume the air of proprietorship 
 over Jack, and show him about and introduce him 
 to his own acquaintances as " Mr. Saunders, my 
 friend from Kentucky." However pleasant or valu- 
 able such a friendship might have been at another 
 time, Jack was not minded to reject it now, and it 
 proved for him the Open Sesame to a somewhat 
 wide acquaintance. After breakfast he cautiously 
 referred again to the subject of a pass. 
 
 " No trouble about that," again said Coburn, " but 
 we must wait a spell till things settle down, and 
 we know for sure that Rosecrans is goin' into 
 winter quarters at Nashville. Then it'll be easy 
 enough. You got to wait anyhow, and things will 
 be all right here by the time you get word from 
 Kentucky." 
 
 "I was hopin' to get home for Christmas," said 
 Jack. 
 
 " It'll be too late for that," said Coburn ; " but 
 you'll have a right merry one here." 
 
 Jack was not altogether happy about it. He 
 knew that Rosecrans had no thought of going into 
 winter quarters. Still his situation was so much 
 better than he had any right to hope, that he pos- 
 sessed his soul in patience, and went for a walk 
 about town. 
 
 Walking in front of a fashionable house on Main 
 Street, he saw the door open, and a man come out 
 whom he had seen before. Behind him in the door 
 
276 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 stood the hostess and several friends, some of them 
 Confederate officers. 
 
 " Good-by," said the hostess, in a tone of good- 
 natured raillery. " I just believe you're going off 
 so's to get shut of giving me a Christmas gift." 
 
 "No, indeed," said the departing guest; "I'm 
 coming back before Christmas, and I'll bring you 
 something." 
 
 " Don't believe him," laughed one of the officers. 
 " He looks solemn, but he's a gay deceiver." 
 
 " I know," said the lady ; " out of sight, out of 
 mind." 
 
 " I'll be in sight again soon. A bad penny, you 
 know. Good-by." 
 
 " Good-by." And the door closed behind him. 
 
 Jack's heart beat fast. He slackened his pace 
 till he saw that the man was coming his way, then 
 moved ahead out of sight of the house, and allowed 
 himself to be overtaken. 
 
 " Captain Garnett," said Jack, in a low tone. The 
 stranger's dark face colored a trifle and he seemed 
 to start. Then, with composure, he said, 
 
 " You are mistaken, sir." 
 
 " Wait," said Jack, as the spy was passing ahead ; 
 " I know you. Captain. I have seen you in Colonel 
 Truesdail's office. I'm in the secret service, too." 
 
 " What are you doing here ? " demanded the 
 captain. 
 
 Jack quickly told his story, and the captain listened 
 with interest. 
 
 " Can you help me through the lines ? " asked 
 Jack, anxiously. 
 
 " I could," said the captain, " but I want you 
 
Out of the Frying Pan 277 
 
 here. Stay at the tavern where you are. Be at 
 ease, enjoy life, make friends. Do you need more 
 money ? I will leave you some. Keep your eyes 
 open and your mouth shut. I shall be here again 
 in four days. Tell me then all you can learn, — 
 not from officers, I meet them, — but from the peo- 
 ple and from your own observation. I want every- 
 thing that can be learned, — movements of troops, 
 planting of batteries, location of outposts, gossip of 
 the people concerning the armies, — everything. I 
 come and go, and stay but a few hours. You stay 
 and be eyes for me ; but no tongue, you understand. 
 We must not be seen together. Here is money. 
 Meet me here in four days. I will report you to 
 Colonel Truesdail. Good-by." 
 
 Jack returned to the tavern, disappointed but 
 content. As soon as he felt sure of his duty, his 
 occupation began to develop cheerful features. 
 Coburn was waiting for him, and had secured for 
 him an invitation to a party which he was to attend 
 that night. And that was where Jack met Bessie 
 Granger. Brisk of movement, ready of speech, a 
 soldier's daughter, and in politics a veritable little 
 spitfire, but the merriest girl, with a quick temper 
 and a warm heart, she was a revelation to Jack, who 
 had never seen a woman like her. Her mother was 
 dead, her father was fighting in Virginia, and she 
 lived with her married sister. It was evident that 
 she had from the first at least a friendly interest in 
 Jack. A vigorous little rebel, she showered good- 
 natured abuse upon all her men friends who were 
 not in the Confederate army, and, with a not un- 
 natural inconsistency, passed by a half dozen uni- 
 
278 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 formed admirers to bestow her favors upon Mr. 
 Jefferson Saunders, better known to the reader as 
 Jackson Casey. 
 
 Fortune, given to carrying coals to Newcastle, 
 rarely gives to a man so many simultaneous favors, 
 added to the pleasant consciousness of doing his 
 duty. Jack had no trouble in picking up informa- 
 tion. The tavern was a centre for its dissemination. 
 Coburn was a mine of it. The gatherings which 
 Jack attended almost nightly, composed of young 
 people of the town and younger officers and soldiers, 
 fairly buzzed with gossip and news. It was a 
 merry group, and Jack proved popular among the 
 young men, and distanced all competition in his 
 almost involuntary strife for the favor of Bessie 
 Granger. People who noticed how well Jack was 
 prospering there ceased to ask what was keeping 
 him in Murfreesboro. Jack saw this, and it added 
 a reason for his " shining up to her " ; for that was 
 the way he described to himself his attentions. 
 Coburn, who had introduced him, and who was 
 attentive to Bessie's best friend, urged Jack on. 
 In all this Jack did not plunge recklessly into 
 flirtation. It was a new world to him, and for a 
 time he followed the lines of least resistance. In- 
 deed, when it was seen that Bessie was disposed to 
 be kind to him, it was counted matter of course 
 that Jack would gladly follow his advantage. 
 That Bessie admired him was not so strange, after 
 all. If his speech was uncouth, it was less so to 
 Southern than to Northern ears. But as an offset 
 to this there were his native grace, his handsome 
 face, his liberal supply of money, his generosity, 
 
Out of the Frying Pan 279 
 
 his ready wit and warm heart. Bessie felt that she 
 had discovered a rough diamond, and no man could 
 wish for a more pleasant discoverer. 
 
 The days passed quickly. Captain Garnett came 
 and went, and came again, and again was gone. 
 He told Jack little, but from his questions Jack 
 saw that his information was of importance, and 
 that a crisis was approaching. Three times, just 
 before the battle of Stone River, Captain Gar- 
 nett made his way back and forth between the 
 armies. Christmas came and went. Murfreesboro 
 made merry on the edge of the volcano of ap- 
 proaching battle. In some of the most aristocratic 
 houses the American flag was nailed to the floor, 
 and the party danced upon it. General John 
 Morgan was married to a Murfreesboro lady just 
 before Christmas, and his wedding was one of the 
 great events of the season. Jack had no share in 
 these functions ; but his own group of friends did 
 not lack for Christmas festivity, and he danced the 
 Virginia reel with Bessie Granger. 
 
 So pleasant and so natural was all this that now 
 and then Jack had to pull his real self together, 
 and remind himself that the man underneath the 
 new store clothes of Mr. Jefl^erson Saunders was 
 the plain mountain soldier. Jack Casey. It came 
 to take an effort to recall himself to himself. 
 Doubtless he played his part the better for thus 
 losing himself in it ; and so far forth he was glad, for 
 he had lost all fear of betraying himself But just 
 when he was playing his role the best, and rejoicing 
 in it, there would come a twinge of conscience. 
 Jefferson Saunders was fast falling in love with 
 
28o A Hero in Homespun 
 
 Bessie Granger. But Jackson Casey was be- 
 trothed, not in word, to be sure, — but that was 
 little comfort, — to Jennie Whitley. Bessie was a 
 bird of bright plumage, — " pretty as a red bird," 
 was the quotation which he borrowed to describe 
 her, — but Jennie was the wood dove with the 
 true heart. So Jack Casey vowed that he would 
 not so far forget himself as to be untrue to Jennie 
 Whitley. But Jefferson Saunders remained, and 
 could hardly do else than remain, on good terms 
 with Bessie Granger. 
 
 The Sunday after Christmas Jack saw Captain 
 Garnett again. 
 
 " You need not stay much longer," he said to 
 Jack. " There will be a battle before the year 
 ends." 
 
 " May I leave before the battle ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " Yes ; I shall return once more, but not within 
 the town. Meet me Tuesday night in the edge of 
 the woods to the left of the Manson pike, this side the 
 river. Have all the information you can get and 
 go with me." 
 
 "You go to Nashville, now? " asked Jack. 
 
 A moment the dark features of the spy relaxed 
 into a smile of triumph. " I dined to-day with 
 General Bragg. I am to dine with General Rose- 
 crans to-morrow," he said. 
 
XXV 
 
 On This Side of the River and on That 
 
 IT was a merry Christmas in camp, in and 
 about Nashville. Eph Whitley and his 
 companions among the Kentucky troops 
 spent a happy holiday. To be sure there 
 were sad memories and homesick longings. But 
 provisions had become plenty since the completion 
 of the railroad, and there was shelter and good 
 cheer. But the thing that most of all made the 
 men happy was the prospect of a move. The army 
 had been reorganized, and their division was com- 
 manded by the white-haired General Van Cleve, 
 who as a colonel had fought at Mill Spring. They 
 were ordered to be in readiness to start at a mo- 
 ment's notice, and throughout the day they inspected 
 their arms, and made ready to break camp. 
 
 The month had been a hard one. There had 
 been frequent minor engagements at the outposts 
 with varying results. On the nth of December 
 Franklin had been captured in a Union raid, and 
 some loss inflicted on the enemy. But the battle 
 of Huntsville had resulted disastrously, and the 
 troops had behaved so badly as to afford no little 
 ground for censure. The whole army felt the stigma 
 of the implied charge of cowardice, and was ready 
 to prove its mettle. But Christmas day passed, and 
 the order to march did not come. On Friday morn- 
 
282 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 ing, the 26th, there was a general movement. The 
 8th Kentucky was well to the front, but the ist 
 Tennessee remained in Nashville, much to its 
 own disgust. Unlike the preceding, this day was 
 most disagreeable. A soldier soon assumes the 
 privilege of grumbling, even at what pleases him, 
 and there was no lack of it this day, though the 
 men were glad enough to march, even through the wet. 
 
 " Eph," asked Jim Galloway, " why d'ye reckon 
 they didn't start us out yistiddy, lack they said they 
 would ? " 
 
 " I reckon they was a-waitin' fur fallin' weather," 
 said Eph with grim humor. 
 
 The army marched that day and the next, engag- 
 ing the enemy's pickets and skirmishers at times, 
 but continuing their way toward Murfreesboro. On 
 Saturday night they camped on the north bank of 
 Stewart's Creek, and the Confederate pickets were 
 just on the other side. The Union forces became 
 convinced that they were fronting no large body of 
 troops, but only skirmishers sent to dispute their 
 passage. 
 
 The army made no advance that day, but all the 
 morning and early afternoon the 8th Kentucky 
 watched the men across the creek, and fired when- 
 ever they saw a head appear behind a tree, though 
 with little if any effect ; and the rebel sharpshoot- 
 ing was also ineffectual. 
 
 Early in the afternoon Eph saw a Confederate and 
 called to him, 
 
 " Hello thar, Johnny ! " 
 
 " Hello, Yank. Gwineter shoot ? " 
 
 " No. Not now. Let's quit this fur a spell." 
 
On This Side of the River and on That 283 
 
 " All right. Tou mought as well. You hain't 
 a-doin' us no more harm than a tom-tit peckin' at 
 a spruce log." 
 
 " Wall, you hain't a-doin' us no harm. You tell 
 your fellers to quit their shootin', an' we will." 
 
 " All right. Hit's a go." 
 
 " Boys," said Eph, " this hain't no way to spend 
 the Sabbath. I reckon we're stopped to-day because 
 ole Rosecrans don't like to march on Sunday. Less 
 quit this firin' an' have a truce." 
 
 The word quickly passed along the line on both 
 sides of the creek, and the men began to come out 
 of the bushes and gather on the banks of the stream. 
 
 " Hello, Yanks ! " said a rebel. " Who proposed 
 this here truce ? " 
 
 "We did," said Eph. 
 
 " Hit's honest Injun, is it ? " 
 
 " You're right, it is." 
 
 " All right. Hit's a go, then, till sundown." 
 
 " Whar be you Johnnies from ? " 
 
 " From Alabam. Whar be you from ? " 
 
 " Kaintuck." 
 
 " Got any whiskey ? " 
 
 " That's what we live on." 
 
 " How' 11 ye swap some for coffee ? " 
 
 " We never drink it while the worm goes." 
 
 " What be you fellers a-comin' down here for, 
 anyhow ? " 
 
 "You'll find out when we meet you at Murfrees- 
 boro. Be you goin' to stand thar, or run ? " 
 
 " That's tellin' tales outer school. But from here 
 to Murfreesboro you'll travel the bloodiest ten mile 
 ever you walked." 
 
284 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " I reckon so. But hit won't all be our blood." 
 
 The conversation was getting rather too political, 
 and both sides felt that it was a pity to waste the 
 little time they had together in any unkind words. 
 
 Just then a Confederate officer rode down to the 
 stream. 
 
 " What's this ? " he asked. 
 
 " We've agreed to a truce till sundown," said his 
 men. 
 
 " All right, boys," said he. " Keep it faithfully." 
 
 Then turning toward the stream, he rode in a few 
 paces, and let his horse drink. 
 
 " Hello, boys," he said to the Union men. 
 
 They saluted him as they would their own officer. 
 
 " I'm Captain Miller, of Stewart's Cavalry, and 
 these are my men. Don't fire on them, and they 
 will keep their truce with you. Have you any 
 papers to swap ? " 
 
 They inquired among themselves, but found no 
 newspaper. 
 
 " We let' Nashville in the rain," Eph said, " an' 
 what papers we had got wet. I'm sorry." 
 
 " Never mind," said he. " Here's a Chattanooga 
 paper. I'll give you mine, anyway," and riding a 
 few steps further into the stream, he threw it over, 
 and rode back. 
 
 " Thank ye, Captain," said Eph. " Ef we meet 
 you or your men in battle, we'll spare ye." 
 
 " Thank you, boys. This is a better way to 
 spend Sunday than in useless waste of powder." 
 
 " Yes. A heap better than shootin' bullets inter 
 the timber. This is most as good as goin' to 
 meetin'." 
 
On This Side of the River and on That 285 
 
 " Boys, have you a chaplain with you ? " 
 
 " Not with this comp'ny. They's one with the 
 reg'maintal headquarters but we hain't seed him 
 to-day." 
 
 " We have no chaplain," said the captain. " Our 
 chaplain took small-pox in the hospital and died." 
 
 " I reckon we could find a preacher," said Eph. 
 
 " Thar's a Illinois reg'maint up on the hill that's 
 got a chaplain. He's a right good feller, too. A 
 reg'lar shoutin' Methodist. He'd come, I know. 
 Sim, you go 'n' ast him." 
 
 " I will ride back in half an hour," said Captain 
 Miller, and so rode away. 
 
 Many an Illinois regiment knew Chaplain Barnes, 
 and many a soldier loved him. He was short in 
 stature, and rather stout but not corpulent, and was 
 lithe in his movements. He was an able preacher, 
 a forceful stump speaker in temperance and anti- 
 slavery campaigns, and carried the interests of the 
 soldiers upon his heart. The soldiers loved him, 
 and called him, somewhat roughly, but with a ro- 
 bust appreciation of his whole-hearted, enthusiastic 
 preaching, the " Bully for Christ " chaplain. A 
 story, which the good chaplain declared to be more 
 or less apocryphal, was often told as indicating the 
 origin of the name. The regiment had received 
 official mention for good conduct at Perryville, 
 where it was put into the front, though only a week 
 from home, and the men were enthusiastically cheer- 
 ing the officers who had received particular honor. 
 
 " Bully for Colonel Gooding ! " they cried, and 
 then, " Bully for General McCook ! " 
 
 " Bully for Abe Lincoln " was the next cheer. 
 
286 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 and then, noticing the chaplain vociferously joining 
 in it, they shouted, 
 
 " Bully for Parson Barnes ! " 
 
 " Boys," said he, " I thank you for cheering for 
 me, and I say with you. Bully for all the good men 
 you've been cheering. But I want you to say, and 
 say it with all your hearts, Bully for Christ." 
 
 The chaplain always declared that that was not 
 just what he said, but that was what the soldiers told. 
 
 In a very little time the chaplain appeared. Men 
 were not always ready to listen to sermons, and he 
 was glad of an opportunity to preach. The day 
 was mild and clear, and the Sabbath hush was on all 
 the earth. The little minister came walking with a 
 quick step down among the men at the bank of the 
 creek, and greeted both sides with cordial words. 
 
 " Boys, can you sing ?" he asked. 
 
 Eph Whitley's father had led the singing at 
 Roundstone ever since any one could remember ; 
 and all Roundstone knew Eph as the best singer 
 among the young people of the Holler. He started 
 a weird, camp-meeting melody which both sides 
 knew, and sang together, 
 
 •' I am bound for the promised land, 
 I am bound for the promised land. 
 Oh, who will come and go with me, 
 I am bound for the promised land." 
 
 To this refrain were sung successively the stanzas 
 of " Am I a soldier of the cross." 
 
 Chaplain Barnes mounted a low rock on the 
 shore of the stream and opened his Bible. Captain 
 Miller returned and sat on his horse, a little back 
 
On This Side of the River and on That 287 
 
 among the trees, on the other side. Clear and 
 strong the chaplain said : 
 
 " My friends and brothers on both sides of the 
 stream. We have been singing together, and sing- 
 ing truly, that we are bound for the promised land. 
 In spite of all the wickedness and cruelty of this 
 wicked and cruel war, I am glad to believe that, that 
 is true of many of us on both sides. 
 
 " My text is in the twenty-second chapter of the 
 Book of Revelation, and the second, third, and fourth 
 verses. 
 
 " ' On either side of the river was there the tree of life, 
 which bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit 
 every month : and the leaves of the tree were for the heal- 
 ing of the nations. And there shall be no more curse : but 
 the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in it: and his 
 servants shall serve him. And they shall see his face.' 
 
 " My brothers, I do not know the full meaning 
 of this text, but I feel that I know a little more of 
 it for our meeting here, and I am sure that the tree 
 of life does grow on both sides of this river. 
 
 " We stand separated from each other and from 
 our own future by just such narrow streams. How 
 narrow a river separates us from to-morrow, and yet 
 with the rising of the sun we shall be taking each 
 other's lives ! How narrow a stream separates us 
 from each other in all our convictions, and how 
 much of prejudice and misunderstanding has existed 
 on both sides to bring about this awful war, and 
 caused us to forget that the tree of life can bear 
 more than one manner of fruit ! 
 
 " How narrow a stream separates us from the new 
 
288 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 year ! This is the last Sunday in the old year and 
 almost the last day. The old year with all its ac- 
 complishments and all its mistakes is before God, 
 and we must give an account for it, and begin the 
 new one. How narrow a stream separates us from 
 the other world. We may not even live to see the 
 end of this year and the beginning of the next. Oh, 
 my brothers, if the tree of life is to bloom for you 
 on the other side of the river of death, it must be 
 planted here ! We sing that, 
 
 " * On the other side of Jordan, 
 In the sweet fields of Eden, 
 Where the tree of Hfe is blooming. 
 There is rest for you.' 
 
 " But I read that on this side of the river, as well 
 as on that, is there the tree of life. My friends, the 
 leaves of that tree must heal this nation. And 
 while we do our awful duty now, and strike our 
 hardest blows, let us remember that we strike our 
 brothers, and pray God for the healing of this nation 
 with the leaves of the tree which grows in the 
 garden of God. 
 
 " God bless you all, my brothers. The sam'e 
 kind of heart beats under gray that beats under 
 blue, and we are one in spirit to-day. Together we 
 join in this worship. Together we join in song. 
 Together we join in thoughts of home and love and 
 duty, and the same kind of love and hope is growing 
 to-day in hearts on both sides of this little creek. 
 So may the same graces abound in our lives on this 
 side of the river of death that we hope to have in 
 the heavenly paradise." 
 
On This Side of the River and on That. Page zi 
 
On This Side of the River and on That 289 
 
 Then the Httle parson lifted up his voice in 
 prayer, and the whole company knelt with him 
 upon the banks of the stream, and there were tears 
 dropping from many eyes. 
 
 " Let us sing in closing," said he, 
 
 " * On Jordan's stormy banks I stand. 
 And cast a wistful eye. 
 To Canaan's fair and happy land. 
 Where my possessions lie.' " 
 
 Eph led the singing to one of the minor airs 
 which both sides, being Southerners, knew so well. 
 The song was hearty, but the chaplain did not know 
 the tune. 
 
 " Boys," said he, " I don't quite know those 
 tunes. And I want to sing with you. Let's sing 
 one more hymn. Let us sing, ' There is a land of 
 pure delight,' to the tune of ' Varina.' I guess every- 
 body knows that." 
 
 They all knew it, and sang with him, 
 
 " Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood. 
 
 Stand dressed in living green : 
 So to the Jews old Canaan stood. 
 
 While Jordan rolled between. 
 Could we but climb where Moses stood 
 
 And view the landscape o'er. 
 Not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood. 
 
 Should fright us from the shore." 
 
 Then he pronounced the benediction, and went 
 away. Captain Miller also rode back to his tent. 
 And the men, as the dusk came on, built their fires 
 down by the stream, and made their coffee, and 
 drank each other's health. On the coals they 
 
290 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 broiled the rabbits which both sides had found in 
 considerable numbers, and whose chase had served 
 as diversion all the morning. There was swapping 
 of broiled rabbit for hard tack, and it may even have 
 been that in the excess of good fellowship some flasks 
 from the Kentuckians went across the stream in ex- 
 change for canteens of hot coffee. The men visited 
 until dark, and then with good words on either side 
 went to their tents. The night fell without the fir- 
 ing of a gun along Stewart's Creek, and the peace of 
 God's Sabbath reigned on this side of the river and 
 on that. 
 
 The next day the Union army took up its march 
 again toward Murfreesboro. There was skirmish- 
 ing, but at long range, and the men of Eph's regi- 
 ment looked to see whether they were firing at men 
 on foot or horseback, and if the men were mounted, 
 it is to be feared that their aim was not very true. 
 
 " Hello, Kentuck," said an Illinoisan to Eph, 
 " Stole our parson and had meetin' yesterday, did 
 you r 
 
 " Yes ; an' he's a main good one, ain't he ? " 
 
 " You're mighty right. He's the man that in- 
 vented the word ' skedaddle ' ; but he's the bravest 
 man in the army." 
 
 " Did you have preachin' yistiddy ? " 
 
 " No ; we had a funeral." 
 
 " That's nothin' outer common. Was it an 
 officer ? " 
 
 " No ; General Palmer had commanded us not to 
 commit depredations. We obeyed the order over 
 the left. Some of the fellers in our company found 
 a sheep, and were skinning him when Palmer rode 
 
On This Side of the River and on That 291 
 
 along. They just whipped a blanket over him and 
 got out a deck of cards and were playing seven up 
 by the time he got there. He looked at the blanket 
 and didn't say anything, but rode on. The fellers 
 in our mess had caught a hog. We had lots of time 
 yesterday, and we were skinning him, and he caught 
 us in the act. 
 
 " ' Ah,' said he, ' a body ! A corpse ! Some 
 poor fellow gone to his long home ! He must be 
 buried with military honors. Call the officer of the 
 guard. Officer,' says he, ' these men have lost a 
 comrade. A dear friend has passed away. Provide 
 them with spades, and see that they dig a grave, 
 wide and deep. Be sure they dig it deep. And let 
 them bury their friend with military honors.' 
 
 " He sat there on his horse, sober as a judge. But 
 there was a twinkle in his eye. 
 
 " Well, we had to dig the grave, and we wrapped 
 the hog in an old overcoat and buried him under 
 guard. And General Palmer said, ' Peace to his 
 ashes ! ' and rode off. But when we got him buried 
 and the guard returned, we thought of the resurrec- 
 tion, and it wasn't long till Gabriel's trumpet blew." 
 
 " You dug him up, did ye ? " 
 
 " Well, I ain't saying what we did. But we didn't 
 eat salt horse for supper, I can tell you that. And 
 we had all the better appetite for pork chops and 
 tenderloin for our exercise digging the grave." 
 
XXVI 
 
 The Battle of Stone River 
 
 THERE is always a reaction from unre- 
 strained mirth. After Christmas Mur- 
 freesboro grew thoughtful. Two days 
 before the end of the year a shudder of 
 apprehension seized the town. The Yankees were 
 coming. They had left Nashville two days ago. 
 They would be here in two days more, and then 
 there would be a bloody battle. All hopes of go- 
 ing into winter quarters were at an end. Discipline 
 in the army became rigid. People began seeking 
 permission to leave town, and for the most part 
 readily obtained it. Coburn was among the first to 
 leave. Jack could easily have gone now, but his 
 orders held him for another day and night. He 
 was eager to be gone, to be in his own place in the 
 ranks, away from this false position, away from the 
 hollow part which he was playing, and away from 
 Bessie Granger, before he should be tempted to say 
 what he must not say. Bessie asked him about the 
 approaching battle and its probable effect upon his 
 plans. He could not give her such answers as she 
 desired, nor could he well reply when she asked, 
 what more than once she had asked before, why so 
 brave a man as he was not a soldier. Jack deter- 
 mined to be kind to her, and no more ; to explain 
 to her his situation at the earliest moment when his 
 
 292 
 
The Battle of Stone River 293 
 
 duty would allow him to speak ; and to avoid, if 
 possible, all future relations with the secret service. 
 
 On Tuesday night he made his way to the ap- 
 pointed place, in hope of meeting Captain Garnett. 
 But the hope all but forsook him when he came to 
 the place. The pike was full of soldiers crossing 
 the river to take position beyond. All day in the 
 rain he had seen the troops moving to the left. 
 He now divined the meaning of it. He had news 
 now, and of importance. He must if possible see 
 Captain Garnett. But the movement which made 
 his news of importance prevented the captain's 
 coming. The hours went by till the sky grew gray, 
 and all night long he watched in vain. After hours 
 of ineffectual striving to make his way through the 
 lines. Captain Garnett had given up the attempt, 
 confident, however, that his information was correct. 
 It was correct, and on it had been formed the plan 
 of Rosecrans to move out from the left and throw 
 Van Cleve's division across the river upon the Con- 
 federate right, which was believed to be the most 
 favorable point of attack. It was all the more so 
 now that the Confederate left was so extended, but 
 the news which Jack obtained, which would have 
 been worth ten thousand men to Rosecrans, was 
 that Bragg had formed precisely the same plan, and 
 had thrown his left across the river, three miles 
 further down, to strike the Union right, and that 
 everything depended upon being able to strike first. 
 
 When Jack returned to the tavern in the dawn 
 of the last day of 1862, the battle had already begun, 
 and from the firing he knew that Bragg had struck 
 first. He changed his dripping clothes, put dry 
 
294 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 cartridges in his revolver, swallowed a hasty break- 
 fast and waited. 
 
 It had rained all night, and Eph Whitley and his 
 8th Kentucky comrades had lain without fire in the 
 dripping woods between the pike and the river. 
 With the first light of day they were astir, and after 
 a cold bite of hard tack moved toward the left to 
 the ford. The water was icy cold, but they plunged 
 into it, and came up on the other side ready for 
 another march and an attack on the forces a half 
 mile beyond. They were hardly across the river 
 when the sound was heard of a heavy battle on the 
 right, and the order came to recall the division and 
 support the exposed wing. Two brigades were left 
 in charge of Colonel Price, and Eph's regiment 
 was with them. The rest of the division rushed 
 through the woods, their garments dripping from 
 the second fording, and met the whole right in re- 
 treat, with the rebels in full pursuit. Bragg's move- 
 ment had been magnificently planned and brilliantly 
 executed. With a shorter distance to move, the 
 Confederates had the advantage of the first attack, 
 and they carried everything before them like a 
 storm. 
 
 In every battle there is a sorry picture at the 
 rear. Cowards and stragglers are in every fight, 
 and men who prove brave enough afterward some- 
 times run like sheep at the first fire. But the Army 
 of the Cumberland never before or afterward saw 
 what it saw that day, whole regiments in swift re- 
 treat, and the overborne troops pushing their way 
 by thousands through the fog to the rear. Up and 
 down rode Van Cleve, the blood dropping from a 
 
The Battle of Stone River 2^^ 
 
 wound in his foot, and his white hair streaming in 
 the wind. A new plan was arranged. A new line 
 of battle was formed — a line which receded, but 
 was not again broken. Rosecrans now became 
 anxious for his left wing, and rode back to the ford 
 whence he had called Van Cleve. 
 
 " Who commands this brigade ? " he demanded. 
 
 " I do," said Colonel Price. 
 
 " Can you hold this ford ? " 
 
 " I'll try, sir," said Price, looking about at his 
 depleted body of men, and up to where Breckin- 
 ridge held his four brigades of splendidly drilled 
 Confederates. 
 
 " Can you hold this ford ? " again demanded 
 Rosecrans. 
 
 " ril die right here, sir," said Price. 
 
 " Can you hold this ford ? " thundered Rosecrans. 
 
 " Yes, sir, and I will ! " replied Price. 
 
 Eph looked to the right and the left into the 
 faces of his companions, and read in every one of 
 them the answer of their commander. " Yes," said 
 he, " we will ! " 
 
 Twice that day Bragg ordered Breckinridge to 
 move over and attack the centre. That he did not 
 crush the Union army into fragments that day was 
 due to the failure of Breckinridge to obey. For 
 Colonel Price kept his word and his position at 
 the ford. 
 
 Early in the afternoon the Union troops took 
 their final position, and from the ground then occu- 
 pied they never receded. They formed in a semi- 
 circle bending outward, with the ends resting on 
 Stone River. Against this new line the Confeder- 
 
296 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 ates hurled themselves four times. The cannon roar 
 was deafening. The roll of the musketry was in- 
 cessant. Men fought like demons, no longer firing as 
 earlier they had sometimes done into their own ranks, 
 but volley upon volley straight into the faces of their 
 enemies. Each army had lost immensely ; but each 
 was stronger in morale and in possibilities of victory 
 than when the fight began. To kill men or to be 
 killed ceased to be a thing considered. On the one 
 side there was determination to break the line, on 
 the other to hold it, and neither side thought of 
 life or death or anything save that. The fighting 
 ceased as the day died, and the night fell bitter cold, 
 and the Union line stood firm. 
 
 New Year's day broke clear, but cold. There 
 were dead by thousands, and wounded more than 
 could be cared for. Bragg telegraphed to Jefferson 
 Davis that God had given a happy new year to the 
 Confederate cause, but neither he nor Rosecrans cared 
 to begin the battle that day. 
 
 On Friday Rosecrans pushed his left further 
 across the river, and that day the battle was fought 
 at the other end of the line. It was Bragg's des- 
 perate attempt to force the issue. He had expected 
 the Union army to retreat the night before. Breck- 
 inridge, against his earnest protest, was thrown with 
 all the impetuous force of his four fine brigades 
 against the Union left. The charge of Breckinridge 
 at first was irresistible. The Union troops fell back. 
 It was the most magnificent movement of the battle, 
 but for the Confederates the most disastrous. On 
 the hill above the ford the Union General Menden- 
 hall massed fifty-eight cannon, and rained down upon 
 
The Battle of Stone River 297 
 
 the advancing Confederates, the flower of the South, 
 a hundred shots a minute. Since the world began, 
 flesh and blood had never stood under such a storm 
 of iron hail that smote whole ranks to the earth. 
 The Confederates stopped as they pressed through 
 the cotton field, and from the bolls at their feet took 
 cotton and stuffed their ears against the awful thunder 
 of the artillery, and pressed on. The Union in- 
 fantry now rallied, and poured in their murderous 
 fire of Minie balls. Southern dash and ardor at its 
 best met equally at its best Northern endurance and 
 determination. The Confederates advanced and 
 were repulsed, advanced again, and again were driven 
 back. A third time the wave of battle advanced 
 and receded, breaking on the adamantine rock of 
 the Union front, and leaving two thousand Confed- 
 erates dead and dying men upon the field. Night 
 fell, and was welcome, for both sides were weary of 
 slaughter. 
 
 Saturday brought a storm and little fighting. The 
 Union army was gladdened that day by the coming 
 of a wagon train of supplies, guarded by a hastily 
 picked up brigade under General Spears. Among 
 his men were the ist and 2d Tennessee, which 
 regiments were sent to reinforce Van Cleve's com- 
 mand. The arrival of these fresh troops, and the 
 great loss sustained by Breckinridge, greatly dis- 
 heartened Bragg, and on Saturday night, under cover 
 of a heavy fire, his army began its retreat. 
 
 In the town, the excitement seemed to subside 
 when the battle really began. There was anxiety 
 still, but of the calmer sort. The roar of the battle 
 
'298 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 seemed somehow to steady nerves that had been 
 unstrung by the uncertainty of the past days. Soon 
 the wounded began coming in. The churches were 
 filled with them. All the public buildings became 
 hospitals. The Union University and the Soule 
 Female College were filled with bleeding, suffering 
 men. There were more than the surgeons could 
 attend. The townspeople began offering their ser- 
 vices. Jack hastened to the university, and was 
 soon at work, caring for the more slightly wounded, 
 whom the surgeons could not attend. He rejoiced 
 that this much, at least, his duty as a soldier did 
 not prevent. The need for nurses grew. The 
 surgeons were far too few in number. More women 
 came to help, and here and there a man was sent 
 from the ranks, who was known to have knowledge 
 of surgery or skill in nursing. Jack was busy, when 
 a voice at his elbow asked, 
 
 " Let me help you, won't you, please ? " and 
 looking up he saw Bessie. 
 
 She had never looked so pretty to Jack in her 
 party dress as she did now, with pale face, but set 
 teeth and pleading eyes. 
 
 " Yes, help me here," said Jack. " I thought at 
 first you was an angel." 
 
 She held the bandage on a wounded leg while 
 Jack wrapped it round and round, and then together 
 they went from man to man, attending to minor 
 wounds, bringing water to quench the terrible gun- 
 shot thirst, and assisting the surgeons in the more 
 difficult cases. The work continued all day, and 
 grew harder and more abundant as the day wore on, 
 till the plucky little Bessie was wearied to the point 
 
The Battle of Stone River 299 
 
 of exhaustion. Jack almost forced her to go home 
 for refreshment, and took himself to the tavern, 
 whence, after an hour of rest, he went again with 
 Bessie to the university, and they worked together 
 far into the night. 
 
 There is something about work in such relations 
 that creates a new world for those who engage 
 together in it. A day of it, and it seems to have 
 been forever. The past recedes and all but vanishes, 
 and the awful and absorbing present fills all that 
 ever has been and all that is to be. When, long 
 after midnight. Jack parted with Bessie at her door, 
 it seemed an age since morning when they had 
 begun their work together. If one such day seems 
 an age, four of them become an eternity. 
 
 With the first reliable news from the battle, 
 Murfreesboro thanked God and took courage. The 
 Confederates were winning. The Union army had 
 been driven back. But the first night and the next 
 day met them with adverse news, for the Union 
 forces were not dislodged. On Thursday night 
 there was another outbreak of joy over the false 
 report that the Nashville pike was crowded with 
 the wagon trains of the retreating Yankees. Bragg 
 believed it, and so did the army and the town. But 
 Friday brought the awful carnage and defeat of 
 Breckinridge, and the dead had to be hurried from 
 the overcrowded hospitals almost before their last 
 breath was drawn, to make room for the thousands 
 of wounded. Then the people's heart sank like 
 lead. Jack could hardly resist sharing with the 
 people about him, and especially with Bessie, the 
 varying emotions which the alternating tidings 
 
joo A Hero in Homespun 
 
 brought. The only thing which made it possible 
 for them to work together without his betraying him- 
 self was that they were too busy to talk much. All 
 day and almost all night they labored. They lost 
 count of the days. The time seemed unrelated to 
 other time. The years of the past were like a dream. 
 One night, — it must have been Friday night, — 
 Jack took Bessie home as the day was breaking, 
 and himself sought his bed in the tavern. 
 
 " You're the pluckiest little girl ever I seen," 
 said he, as they approached her home. 
 
 " I'm afraid I shouldn't have been so brave," 
 she replied, "if — " 
 
 "If what?" 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 " What did you start to say ? " 
 
 " I started to say that I thought it was largely the 
 help of your presence and courage that made me 
 brave. I thought I had better not say it, but you 
 have made me do it." 
 
 She spoke half reproachfully. They were at the 
 steps of the house. Jack looked down into the tired 
 face and it lighted up. 
 
 " A man couldn't help being brave with you," 
 said he. He could hardly resist the impulse to 
 take her in his arms. "You're plumb tired out," he 
 added. " You must sleep now till noon. Then 
 I'll come for you." 
 
 The day dawned, and darkened again with a storm. 
 Jack ate his breakfast and lay down, but was too 
 tired to sleep. The effort which it had come to 
 require to recall himself to himself was little short 
 of violent. He must define to himself his own 
 
The Battle of Stone River 301 
 
 position. Did he love this pretty, plucky little 
 Southern girl, or was he still in love with Jennie ? 
 His heart turned to Jennie when he had time to 
 think of her, but she and all associated with her 
 seemed very remote just now. Yet duty was near. 
 Whatever else he remembered or forgot, he must 
 remember what brought him here, and what was his 
 duty as a soldier. 
 
 He went out into the storm and walked toward 
 the river. Here the Confederates held both sides, 
 but far down the stream was Van Cleve's division, 
 strongly reinforced and holding the ford, and above 
 it on the hill frowned Mendenhall's murderous fifty- 
 eight cannon that had wrought such havoc yester- 
 day. To get through the lines by land was clearly 
 impossible, and to cross the river here was of no 
 avail. If only he had a boat, and it were night, he 
 might hope to escape. He walked up the bank of 
 the river. Boats were few, but he found a round- 
 bottomed log canoe below the brick house, near the 
 railroad bridge. It was locked, and the paddles 
 were gone, but Jack marked its position, and 
 the location of the troops above. It was two 
 miles, at least, to the ford, and the night would be 
 dark. 
 
 He turned back to the town. The rain was 
 falling, and it was not yet noon. He stepped into 
 the Methodist church on his way back, to see how 
 the wounded fared there, and met face to face in the 
 door, Sam Marshall. Marshall laid his hand on 
 his sword, and Jack drew his revolver. 
 
 " Hold on ! " said Jack, in a low voice. " Let's 
 settle this outside." 
 
302 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 They passed to the rear of the church, which was 
 crowded inside with wounded. 
 
 " What are you doin' here ? " demanded Marshall. 
 
 " I'm carin' for wounded soldiers," said Jack. 
 " What are you doin' here ? Why ain't you at the 
 front fightin' ? " 
 
 " I was there till they called me here," said Sam. 
 " But what I want to know is, what are you doin' 
 inside these lines ? " 
 
 " Sam Marshall, if you insist on astin' that ques- 
 tion, you an' me might just as well fight it out an' 
 be done with it. You know what I'm here for, an' 
 I hain't a-goin' to be betrayed an' hung, nuther. If 
 you an' me can come to terms, all right. If not, 
 then they won't but just one of us leave the hind 
 side o' this church house alive." 
 
 "By heaven, I'd like it so! I've swore to kill 
 you ! But I've promised your mother I wouldn't. 
 But if you're here as a spy, no promise holds. I 
 won't kill you, but I'll see you hung." 
 
 " No you won't. They hain't nary one of us goin' 
 ter stir from this spot till we come to terms, or one 
 of us gits killed." 
 
 " I wish I'd a died before I ever touched your 
 mother's food ! I swore to her I'd never harm ye. 
 But I can't let you go with information to the 
 enemy. I'd ruther break a hundred promises, and 
 die, too ! " 
 
 " Sam Marshall, let me tell you this. I reckon 
 I've done all the harm I can this trip. I hain't got 
 no information now that's good for anybody. I 
 couldn't get through the lines, as I know on, if 
 I had. Mind you, I'd git information if I could, 
 
The Battle of Stone River 303 
 
 an' I'd git out with it if I could. But all I'm a-doin' 
 here now is to put in my time lookin' atter these 
 wounded Johnnies. If you think it's your duty, 
 we'll fight, and there'll be one less rebel nuss or 
 surgeon, one, afore we git through." 
 
 Marshall hesitated. "If you'll promise — " 
 
 " I won't promise nothin'. I've told you the 
 truth. I'm goin' back to the university, where 
 I've been workin' night an' day for four days, 
 savin' the lives of rebels. If I git a good chance, 
 I'm goin' back to the army." 
 
 " The sooner the better, then. And we'd best 
 keep out of each other's way. I won't betray you 
 without fair warnin'. That's all I can say." 
 
 " I'm agreed. Only, you understand, I ain't 
 astin' no favors. If you think you ort to fight, 
 don't let your promise hold you back. Do yer 
 duty, an' I'll do mine. But I reckon we might 
 as well wait till the battle's over, an' the hull ques- 
 tion may settle itself." 
 
 " Casey, you ain't a coward, I'll say that for you. 
 I don't know as I'm doin' right, but I'm tryin' to. 
 Whatever I do, I'll do without any grudge on old 
 scores. They might as well go by the board. If 
 you can get out inside twenty-four hours, I wish 
 you would, for I ain't right sure what I ought to 
 do. But I'll stay here, and you stay at the other 
 hospital, where you are at, and I reckon we'll both 
 have enough to think about for this day without 
 killin' each other." 
 
 Jack went now for Bessie ; and as he went, his 
 determination grew to leave the town that night. 
 There was skirmishing, and now and then a 
 
304 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 wounded man was brought in fresh from the field ; 
 but more were brought who had not been picked 
 up the day before. The storm was heavy, and 
 Jack thanked God for the pitiless rain that made the 
 yet more pitiless fighting impracticable for that day. 
 
 They stood a moment in the house before they 
 started into the storm. 
 
 " Bessie," he asked, " do you know the people 
 that live in that brick house on the river above the 
 pike ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Bessie, " I know them well." 
 
 " I want to borry their canoe to-night," said 
 Jack. " Do you reckon I could get it ? " 
 
 "What do you want of it ? " she asked, suddenly 
 turning. 
 
 " Nothin'. That is, I've important business on 
 hand to-night." 
 
 " I reckon I could borrow the boat," said Bessie ; 
 " but they'll wonder what I want it for at such a 
 time, that's all." 
 
 " You needn't mind," said Jack. " I'll tell ye if 
 I need your help. Mebby I won't git to go." 
 
 As he thought about it he reflected that it was 
 not best to ask Bessie's help in the matter. It would 
 necessitate too many explanations. He would break 
 the lock, and make some shift for a paddle. But if 
 possible he would go. They worked together in 
 the hospital that afternoon, but Bessie saw that he 
 was preoccupied. They were both weary, and there 
 was somewhat less to do than on former days. They 
 left early in the evening, and Jack parted with Bessie 
 at the door. He lingered a moment, for he did not 
 intend to return. 
 
The Battle of Stone River 
 
 305 
 
 " Good night," he said, " and get all the rest you 
 can. 
 
 "Stay a moment," she said. "You are not in 
 earnest about leaving town to-night ? " 
 
 " I ain't right sure," said he. 
 
 " But if you go, when will you return ? " 
 
 " I can't quite say about that," he answered. " As 
 soon as the battle is over, I reckon. I can explain 
 matters then. I can't now. I may not go. If not, 
 I'll see you to-morrow. Good night." 
 
 It was an unsatisfactory parting to them both. 
 Jack turned toward the tavern, seeking something of 
 which to make an oar. After some searching he dis- 
 covered a clapboard, which he shaped into a clumsy 
 paddle. Then he went to his room and reloaded 
 his revolver, and borrowed a hammer to break the 
 padlock of the boat. As he went out into the street 
 he found a new reason for his going. The cannon 
 had begun firing in the distance, but under cover of 
 this feint, Bragg was withdrawing his forces from 
 the town. This was news to be taken at once to 
 the Federal camp. He made his way around to 
 avoid the troops who now filled the muddy streets 
 from side to side, and in half an hour approached 
 the river. Under the rocky bank, he found a low, 
 round-bottomed, dug-out craft half full of water. 
 He bailed it out with his hat, and stepped ashore to 
 break the lock, and there stood Bessie. 
 
 " Here is the key," she said simply, " and here 
 are the paddles." 
 
 " Bessie ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 " If you must go," said she, " I must go with you 
 and bring back the boat." 
 
3o6 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 "But I can't let you," said he. "You'll risk 
 your life. I can't come back with you, and I won't 
 send you back alone in the dark. I won't go — 
 but I must go. No, no. Bessie, my brave girl, 
 let me take you home, and I'll go alone." 
 
 " If you must go," said Bessie, " I go too." And 
 stepping lightly into the boat she sat in the stern. 
 Jack said no more, but unlocking the boat, pushed 
 off. 
 
 " I trusted you," said she, " and knew that if you 
 must come, I ought to help you." 
 
 " They may fire on us," said Jack. " When we 
 touch shore and the sentinel challenges us, I'll jump 
 out and push you as far as I can. Bend low in the 
 boat, and pull into the current, fast." 
 
 There was need of caution. Two hours Jack 
 paddled to gain as many miles. " You're not going 
 too far, are you ^ " she asked. 
 
 " No," said Jack, and gladly noticed that she did 
 not know that the Union troops were across the 
 stream, and thus had no suspicion of his real errand. 
 He would not undeceive her to-night, but land on 
 the same side from which they started. The waters 
 ran swift and shallow at the ford. Above them was 
 the hill with its fifty-eight black-throated cannon. 
 Jack turned the boat about, and cautiously ap- 
 proached the shore, stern on. 
 
 " Halt ! who comes there ? " rang the challenge 
 of a sentinel. Jack knew the voice. It was Eph 
 Whitley. 
 
 " A friend ! " said Jack, and then in a lower tone, 
 " Keep still a minute. I'm coming ashore." 
 
 While still several yards from the bank, he 
 
A Night Ride on Stone River. Page 30; 
 
The Battle of Stone River 307 
 
 pressed Bessie's hand warmly, whispered a good 
 night, and stepped out into the water knee-deep. 
 He gave the boat a push with all his might, and 
 Bessie bent to the paddle. In a moment he was on 
 shore, and the boat and Bessie were out of sight. 
 
 Eph called the officer of the guard, and Jack told 
 him that Bragg's army was in full retreat. The 
 news spread from lip to lip, and brought comfort to 
 thousands of soldiers camping that night in the rain. 
 
 " You must a had a hard time rowin' here in the 
 dark," said Eph. " You come right by your own 
 reg'maint, too. They've just got here under Gen- 
 eral Spears, and are camped on the other side be- 
 tween us and the bridge." This was good news to 
 Jack, and he soon found his own company. But 
 for the sake of one day more of good standing in 
 the sight of Bessie Granger, he was glad to have 
 rowed one unnecessary mile, and to have landed on 
 the other side. 
 
 The I St Tennessee spent Sunday in repairing the 
 railroad bridge. Few troops entered Murfreesboro 
 that day. All day long in the rain the people of 
 the town were moving out. Vehicles of every sort 
 were pressed into service. The only carriage the 
 town possessed when Rosecrans entered was the 
 hearse in which Jack made his entry. It was a sad 
 day to the town, and a sad one for Bessie Granger. 
 The hospitals were left. Bragg had no time to take 
 his wounded, and left his surgeons and nurses with 
 them. Bessie went to the university and worked 
 a while, but soon returned home to escape from 
 questions concerning Jack, whom many wounded 
 men missed. No arm had been more strong, no 
 
3o8 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 hand more tender than his, and no one in the hos- 
 pital had seen Bessie without him. She went to 
 her home and watched the endless procession pass ; 
 but Jack did not come. She half repented her ex- 
 pedition the night before, yet rejoiced in the share 
 she had borne in it. She could not fathom the 
 mystery of his departure, but she trusted him. She 
 could not understand why his evident admiration of 
 her stopped short of an avowal of affection, but 
 thought him possibly deterred by her superior cult- 
 ure. She gave up trying to unravel the tangle and 
 simply looked for Jack. 
 
 Monday morning, bright and early. Jack dressed 
 himself in his army blue, but threw over it his store 
 overcoat. He had obtained permission to precede 
 the army and settle his bill at the tavern, agreeing 
 to join his regiment as it passed through the town. 
 He made a brief stay at the tavern, and quickly 
 sought Bessie. Sad and dispirited she was watching 
 for him, and flung the door wide as he entered. 
 
 " I knew you would come ! " she cried. " 1 trusted 
 you ! 
 
 Jack's heart gave a great leap when he saw her, 
 and it filled his throat. There was but one thing 
 that he could have said easily in that moment, and 
 that was to tell her that he loved her. 
 
 A moment he stood and held her hand, and then 
 without a word flung off his overcoat, and stood 
 before her in his regimentals. She recoiled from 
 him as if he had struck her. Then she sank into 
 a chair and covered her face to hide him from her 
 sight, and wept as if her heart would break. 
 
 " Leave me, leave me ! " she cried. 
 
The Battle of Stone River 309 
 
 " I must leave you, Bessie," he said. " But I 
 wanted to tell you first." 
 
 " You have betrayed me ! " she cried. " You 
 have deceived me ! You are a traitor to the South 
 and to me ! " 
 
 " Listen to me, Bessie," he said. " I'm no traitor 
 to any one. I've been in the Union army from the 
 start. I've done my duty there. I can't now make 
 you understand it all, but you can understand now 
 some things I couldn't explain at the time." 
 
 " I only understand that you have been false to 
 me, and to my country ! " she cried. " I am a fool 
 to cry for you. Leave me ! I hate you ! " 
 
 The sound of a fife and drum was heard ap- 
 proaching. 
 
 "Bessie," he said, "that's my reg'maint. I've 
 got to join it in just a minute. If I had time to 
 explain, some things wouldn't seem so bad to you 
 as they do. If I'd been quite so bad as you say, 
 I wouldn't a come back to you this morning. I 
 reckon I've done wrong, but I don't quite see how 
 I could help it. I don't blame you for hatin' me ; 
 but, Bessie, I don't feel thataway to-wards you. I'd 
 like a chance to explain, sometime, but I can't do it 
 now. Good-by, Bessie." 
 
 The regiment was coming up the street, and the 
 tune was " Dixie." Jack turned on the threshold. 
 
 " Good-by," he said again. 
 
 " Oh, come back ! " she cried. " I don't know 
 what to say. I don't know what to do ! No, go ! " 
 
 Jack turned back and stood a moment beside her 
 as she sat weeping. He stooped and took her hand. 
 She did not resist, and as he dropped it, he thought 
 
3IO A Hero in Homespun 
 
 her fingers clasped his own a little. " Good-by," 
 he said ; " I'll come again, sometime, if you'll let 
 me." And then he ran to join his regiment. 
 
 Spears' brigade was sent through Murfreesboro 
 in pursuit of the Confederates. No strong attack 
 was made upon them, but an effectual skirmish was 
 kept up throughout the day, and the rebels were 
 followed several miles, with frequent minor fights 
 and some loss. General Spears, in his report of the 
 battle, especially commends the conduct of " the gal- 
 lant Tennesseeans " who took part in that fight. 
 Certainly among them all there was none who fought 
 with better zest that day than Jack. He rejoiced 
 in the opportunity of fighting. He rejoiced in the 
 attempt to restore himself in some measure in his 
 own esteem. He could not feel that he had been 
 wholly to blame, yet he had somehow to reinstate 
 himself in his own good graces. He was glad that 
 Bessie had not wholly refused him permission to 
 see her again, but he did not regret that his duties 
 prevented his doing so at once. For a few days he 
 was kept beyond the town with his regiment, and 
 then he was ordered to Nashville to report the re- 
 sults of his work in the secret service. When the 
 mail went north, he rode on the box of the hearse 
 with the driver, with a guard before and behind. 
 When he arrived in Nashville, Colonel Truesdail 
 commended him for his service, and asked him if he 
 would not like to engage in that kind of work for 
 the rest of the war. But Jack thanked him and 
 declined. He was glad if he had done well, he 
 said, but it wasn't the sort of work he liked. It 
 sorter left a bad taste in his mouth. 
 
XXVII 
 
 Fort Sanders and Lookout Mountain 
 
 FOR six months after the battle of Stone 
 River, the Army of the Cumberland was 
 comparatively inactive. There were several 
 minor engagements, mostly about points 
 where there had already been fighting, as at Fort 
 Donelson and Frankhn, but there was little progress. 
 The Tullahoma campaign, which was an aggressive 
 movement on the part of Rosecrans, and which 
 ended in driving Bragg, more by manoeuvring than 
 by fighting, out of Tennessee, occupied less than 
 two weeks in the summer, from June 23d to July 
 4th. Then Rosecrans advanced to Chattanooga, 
 and the world knows the rest. 
 
 Jack was not with the Army of the Cumberland 
 on this campaign. In the early spring the ist 
 Tennessee was at its old stamping-ground at Camp 
 Nelson, and the Second Regiment was at Somerset. 
 There they were provided with horses, and were 
 known from this time on as " Tennessee Mounted 
 Infantry." 
 
 " Wall, Jack, how d'ye like ridin' ? " asked Sam 
 Loomis. 
 
 "I can stand it ef the critter can," said Jack; 
 " but a heap o' the time it's about all I can do to 
 git enough fur myself to eat, let alone the horse." 
 
 " Who d'ye reckon'll be our gin'ral now ? " 
 311 
 
312 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " I heerd we're likely to have Carter agin." 
 
 " I hope so. Spears warn't no fool ; but Charter's 
 the bully." 
 
 " How'd he come to leave us ^ " 
 
 " Hit was Andy Johnson done it. He wanted 
 to git Spears in." 
 
 " Wall, he mought a worked for a wuss man, but 
 I hope we'll have Carter agin." 
 
 A few weeks later both regiments were encamped 
 near Somerset, under command of General Carter, 
 who had a brigade of eight thousand troops, mostly 
 raw, and six thousand of them Tennesseeans. One 
 night Jack and his regiment camped at Logan's 
 cross roads, close to the site of their camp two years 
 before at the battle of Mill Spring. 
 
 " War's funny business, hain't it. Jack ? " asked 
 Joe Hallet. 
 
 "It looks thataway a heap o' times. What you 
 thinkin' bout now ? " 
 
 " Oh, here we be, two year atter fightin' here, 
 right back agin, same's before, we on this side the 
 river, and the rebs at Mill Spring on t'other. We 
 don't make much progress, do we ? " 
 
 " They have made progress. But it's mighty 
 discouragin'. 'Pears lack the gen'rals don't know 
 as much as they'd orter. They hain't no manner of 
 excuse for doin' any fightin' here a tall. Ef we'd a 
 ben up to snuff a tall, we'd a druv the rebs so fur 
 south while we was a-drivin' on 'em they wouldn't 
 a come back till the day o' jedgmaint, an' late in the 
 evenin' at that ! " 
 
 " What d'ye reckon's the matter ? " 
 
 " The tap root of the trouble is that the rebs has 
 
Fort Sanders and Lookout Mountain 313 
 
 been allowed to stay in East Tennessy. We've let 
 'em stay there, first because our gen'rals didn't know 
 that the folks there was loyal. Then we've let 'em 
 stay there because we thought we couldn't live on the 
 country, and couldn't take wagon trains for sup- 
 plies, an' they never seem to think that we ort to 
 be able to live where the rebs can. An' that where 
 the rebs git out so easy we could as easy git in. 
 An' then they let 'em stay there because they think 
 they'll do as little harm there as anywhere. But all 
 the raids inter Kaintuck comes from there." 
 
 " I begin to believe the gen'rals is as big fools as 
 other folks." 
 
 "Wall, they be an' they hain't. Now there was 
 Sherman. He made a powerful big blunder two 
 year ago when he was in command here. But they 
 do say he's done some o' the tallest kind o' fightin' 
 sence." 
 
 " That's what I heerd tell. But gen'rals don't 
 know everything, by a long shot." 
 
 " No, they don't. Now there's the battle o' 
 Perryville. They wouldn't nary one of the two 
 gen'rals a fit there, ef they hadn't both a blundered 
 an' hadter." 
 
 "I've heerd that's so. Both thought they was 
 fightin' part o' the other's army stidder the hull on 
 it, but they mighty soon found they was wrong." 
 
 " Then, there was the battle o' Stone River. 
 Both gen'rals had sense enough to make a mighty 
 good plan, but nary one on 'em had sense enough 
 to know that the other had sense enough to make 
 the same plan." 
 
 " Not knowin' makes a heap o' trouble." 
 
314 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " Yes, an' they's another thing that makes a heap 
 o' trouble, one gen'ral thinks the other side has got 
 the biggest force. He allers thinks thataway. It's 
 sorter lack a fish when you got him on yer hook, 
 he's allers so much bigger'n he is when ye git him 
 landed. Wall now, a heap o' the time both gen'rals 
 is skeered of each other. One is afraid, an' t'other 
 dassent. An' they never stop to think that the 
 other fellers is jes' as much afeard as they be." 
 
 " I reckon that's about hit." 
 
 " Sartin, that's it. An' then they's another 
 trouble. When we've licked, we don't hardly ever 
 foller up the thing, an' hit 'em again, or ef we do, 
 we go slow as the seven-year itch." 
 
 " Yes, Buell had orter licked Bragg wuss atter 
 Perryville." 
 
 " in course he'd ort. What business had we 
 to let Bragg take all them wagon trains outen the 
 State, an' all the best horses in Kaintuck ? " 
 
 " But then, Rosecrans done the same at Stone 
 River." 
 
 " Yes, they all do the same. They spend month 
 atter month a-gittin' ready to do somethin', and then 
 hit 'em a little, an' say, ' Now you hurry an' git 
 outen here right quick, or you'll git hurt,' an' then 
 the rebs moves on 'bout twenty mile, an' sends out 
 their cavalry to raid our wagon trains, and we git 
 good ready atter while to move on agin." 
 
 " Hit's sorter lack see-saw. Hit's sorter lack a 
 game o' checkers. Here we ben fightin' fur two 
 year an' better, an' now we're both on us back in 
 our own king row, an' both sides movin' back'ards 
 an' for'ards in their double corners." 
 
Fort Sanders and Lookout Mountain 315 
 
 " But a heap o' good men gits moved ofFn the 
 board." 
 
 " Yes, an' some on 'em kings." 
 
 Narrow as was this view of the progress of the 
 war, there was much to confirm it as witnessed on 
 their horizon. The fall of Vicksburg, which came 
 that summer, and the repulse of Lee at Gettysburg, 
 were great events, but in a way remote from them, 
 though they broke the back of the Rebellion. But 
 their great event in the summer was a raid into East 
 Tennessee, under the gallant General Sanders, him- 
 self a Southern man, and a relative of Jefferson 
 Davis. On this raid, in which Jack bore his part 
 with honor, they captured a few hundred prisoners, 
 destroyed some Confederate property, and burned the 
 railroad bridge at Strawberry Plains. It was counted 
 a successful raid, as it accomplished its end, and 
 with trifling loss to the men involved. But it 
 seemed a deplorable thing that the Union army 
 could find no better and greater thing to do than 
 that for which the ignorant mountaineers, in their 
 misguided attempt to do something to help put 
 down the Rebellion, had done two years before and 
 paid for with their lives. 
 
 On this raid Jack paid a hurried visit to his old 
 home, close to which they passed. He called at 
 the home of the Hansons, and there fed his horse 
 and ate a meal. He found them well, but greatly 
 saddened by the death of their father and brother. 
 Martha Hanson inquired with especial interest con- 
 cerning Eph Whitley, and Jack v/as glad to tell her 
 of the goodness and courage of her lover. Jack 
 remembered that he had promised Henry Hanson 
 
3i6 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 to look after his sisters, and he opined that so far 
 as Martha was concerned, his task would not weigh 
 upon him if Ephraim Whitley should survive the war. 
 
 " Hooray, boys ! Have ye heerd the news ? " 
 
 Sergeant Jack Casey came running into camp 
 near Somerset, one hot day in midsummer. The 
 soldiers who were lying in the shade where they 
 could find shade, in undress uniform of all sorts, 
 roused to hear it. News had come to have a lan- 
 guid interest, but was always acceptable. 
 
 " What's the news ? " asked Dan Schofield, an 
 iron-gray old trooper, removing his cob pipe, and 
 deliberately blowing the smoke at a horse-fly that 
 was buzzing about his nose. 
 
 " We're goin' to march." 
 
 " Mighty hot weather fur that," replied Dan. 
 
 " Whar be we goin' ^ " asked Sam Loomis. 
 
 " Inter East Tennessy." 
 
 " Git out !" said Dan. "Ye cyan't fool me ! " 
 
 " It's a fact, shore's the gun's iron," said Jack. 
 
 " Hit's ben a fact ever sence the war begun, but 
 hit don't never happen." 
 
 " Wall, it's a-goin' to happen now. Gen'ral Burn- 
 side has come, and he's goin' to make it his chief 
 business to capture East Tennessy. Rosecrans is 
 a-goin' to hold Bragg at Chattanoogy an' lick him 
 thar, an' we're a-goin' to strike straight fur Knoxville." 
 
 " How d'ye hear? " 
 
 " Cun'l Byrd tole me. They hain't no secret. 
 We're all goin' to know it come mornin'." 
 
 " I hain't a-goin' to tell ye ye lie, but I've heerd 
 so often that we're goin' inter East Tennessy that 
 
Fort Sanders and Lookout Mountain 317 
 
 I've sorter made up my mind to die on the other 
 side er Jurdin, as the preacher says." 
 
 " They hain't no lyin' about this," said Jack. 
 " The news comes straight. An' Burnside's head- 
 quarters is a-goin' with our brigade." 
 
 " By jolly ! We'll hatter patch up our does, and 
 keep our horses curried, won't we ? " 
 
 " You kin expect orders to march to-morrow, I'll 
 tell you that now." 
 
 The camp was soon astir with the bustle of prepa- 
 ration for the breaking of camp. 
 
 " Fellers," said old Dan, as they lay before the 
 tents in the moonlight that evening, "fellers, you 
 young chaps don't know what it is to want ter git 
 home. I lef a wife dyin' with the consumption, 
 an' nine young uns to home. I hated to leave 'em 
 like puUin' teeth, but I wanted to fight fur my prin- 
 ciples. I ain't one o' the tender-hearted sort, but 
 when hit comes to talkin' about goin' back to East 
 Tennessy, hit breaks me all up." 
 
 " I reckon we know somethin' about it," said 
 Jack. " Some on us has got wives, and more on us 
 hopes to have ; an' we've got mothers and sisters, 
 too, a heap on us." 
 
 "I know. But this is different. Wall, I wish 
 the Lord we would go, and mebby we be a-goin' ; but 
 I've ben disappinted so often las' two year, I'm 
 hanged ef I'm a-goin' to beheve it till I enter the 
 valley o' the Sequatchie." 
 
 The grizzled old veteran coughed a little, and 
 drawing from his pocket a twist of tobacco, he cut 
 it into his cob pipe with a wicked-looking bowie 
 knife, and asked his next neighbor for a light. 
 
3i8 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " Dan," asked Sam Loomis, " how fast does a 
 baby grow ? " 
 
 " What d'ye mean, how fast ? " asked the older 
 man. 
 
 " I mean how long does It take a baby to git too 
 big fur a par o' shoes like them? " 
 
 He fished in his knapsack and brought out a 
 pair of baby shoes, carefully wrapped in a red 
 handkerchief. 
 
 " 'Bout six months, mebby," said the authority on 
 family matters. 
 
 "I've ben packin' on 'em nigh onter two year," said 
 the younger soldier, sorrowfully. " Hit's our first 
 young un, an' was borned 'bout a month atter I 
 lef. I 'lowed when I got these I'd git home by 
 the time he could toddle around the floor." 
 
 " You'll hatter loot another store an git some 
 bigger ones. I'm afeard he'd outgrow another par 
 afore we raley git back." 
 
 The young fellow's voice was husky. 
 
 " Blast yer smoke ! " he said. " That's mighty 
 rank tobaccer yer usin'. Lemme have a pipeful 
 on it." 
 
 " Here, fellers," said Jack, " this won't never 
 do. We're gittin' sorter lack a funeral. This hain't 
 no way to be a-gittin' ready to go home. Less sing 
 somethin'. " 
 
 They tried one or two hymns, which did not 
 quite seem appropriate. " I am bound for the 
 promised land " came the nearest to it, but did not 
 quite fill the requirements. Sergeant Joe Hallet 
 started and sang with a little help from the few who 
 thought they knew it, and a number of well-meant 
 
Fort Sanders and Lookout Mountain 319 
 
 but discordant attempts at assistance from those 
 who knew that they did not, a song beginning, 
 
 " Hey, Betty Martin, tip-toe, tip-toe ! 
 Hey, Betty Martin, tip-toe fine ! " 
 
 Then, to the surprise of all, old Dan sang his 
 first and last song in camp. It was a wonderful 
 thing, not to be judged at all as a musical perform- 
 ance, yet it was v^oted a hearty success. It had an 
 intricate refrain, whose burden was pretty Jennie 
 Jenkins. No one ever could learn it, and Dan 
 next day was impolite to a man who asked to be 
 taught that chorus ; so all he could remember, and 
 he was not certain that was right, was the closing or 
 the refrain, 
 
 " To my double, fiddle, treble. 
 To my purty Jinnie Jinkins, oh ! " 
 
 Joe Hallet was getting hilarious, and he started 
 *' Skip t'-m'-loo." The men who had handkerchiefs 
 tied them around their left arms, and thus were labelled 
 as girls. There was a shortage of girls, to be sure, 
 but that was in keeping with the actual situation; 
 and the men's thoughts were somewhere else as 
 they seized their partners, and sang their praises, 
 
 "Pretty as a red-bird, skip t'-m'-loo ! 
 Skip t'-m'-loo, my darling ! " 
 
 And then some one started, " When Johnny comes 
 marching home." It was a good while since they 
 had sung it. The idea of going home was not as 
 constantly in mind as it once had been, but they 
 made out well. Again they recalled their former 
 
320 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 dreams : how the girls would sing, the boys would 
 shout, the ladies — they pronounced it la-dyes in 
 singing — they would all turn out, and they'd all 
 feel gay when Johnny came marching home. 
 
 The next day verified the news. They were to 
 start without delay, and start they did over ground 
 long since familiar, by Mt. Vernon, London, Will- 
 iamsburg, and Boston, by Marsh Creek and Chit- 
 wood, through Scott County and into Morgan. 
 General Burnside accompanied this brigade, and 
 sent his main army by other routes. Carter's bri- 
 gade was proud to escort the general of the army, 
 and did some brilliant fighting on the way. They 
 marched like the hosts of Joshua, advancing to 
 redeem the land promised to their fathers from the 
 Canaanite. They fought with a fierceness born of 
 their plucky Scotch-Irish blood. They rammed 
 down their bullets with a prayer or a curse, accord- 
 ing to the religious experience of the individual ; 
 but it all meant the same, and drew a fine bead, and 
 when they pulled the trigger, said Amen. Noth- 
 ing was able to stand before them. They swarmed 
 through Big Creek Gap. They descended on 
 Knoxville, like the wolf on the fold. They beset 
 Cumberland Gap behind and before, and captured 
 it and all its host. They flowed along the valley of 
 the Holston, like the waters in the freshets of 
 spring, and bore all opposition down before them 
 like a flood. They began their irresistible march 
 on the 20th of August, and rested not until near 
 the middle of September ; and then Knoxville, and 
 the river, and the railroad, and the Gap were all 
 shadowed by the Union flag. 
 
Fort Sanders and Lookout Mountain 321 
 
 There was rejoicing in Knoxville. The loyal 
 citizens of the town welcomed the Union army with 
 heartiest words of good-will. General Carter was 
 appointed provost marshal-general of East Tennes- 
 see, with headquarters at Knoxville. Burnside's 
 host began to pass down the valley and across the 
 hills toward Chattanooga, where he hoped to effect 
 a junction with Rosecrans, and join him in another 
 conquest of the still unconquered Bragg. On the 
 nth of September, Colonel Byrd occupied Athens, 
 and on the 29th, after a skirmish, he entered Sweet- 
 water, which villages lie well on the way to Chatta- 
 nooga. But before Chattanooga was reached, the 
 Confederate General Williams appeared to the east 
 of Knoxville, marching down the railroad to attack 
 the city. He was repelled ; but soon the outposts 
 toward the south were also attacked, and in Octo- 
 ber Byrd's advance was recalled to the defence of 
 Knoxville, which was endangered by the coming of 
 General Longstreet. 
 
 Since the Federal occupation of Knoxville, some 
 slight defensive works had been thrown up about 
 it ; but it now became a matter of the greatest 
 necessity that these should be strengthened to op- 
 pose the superior numbers of Longstreet and the 
 impetuous dash of his men, before which, thus far, 
 nothing had been able to stand. To give time for 
 this work, the cavalry were disposed to protect the 
 city from approach ; and a temporary organization 
 of the mounted men, left without a commander by 
 the promotion of General Carter, was effected, with 
 General Sanders at the head. The men knew 
 Sanders and admired him. He had led some of 
 
322. A Hero in Homespun 
 
 them in their raid upon the Holston bridge the 
 year before, and they understood his coolness, 
 courage, and determination. Under his command 
 they fought with enthusiasm. 
 
 Longstreet crossed the Holston River below the 
 city, and approached it from the west. The key to 
 the possession of the city in this direction was an 
 earthwork, which later was named for General 
 Sanders. This was incomplete when the enemy 
 approached, and time was of the utmost importance 
 to complete it. A mile west of this work, between 
 the river and the railroad, and covering the road 
 that leads from London, Sanders took his stand on 
 the night of November i6th. 
 
 The next morning the Confederate forces moved 
 against this screen of cavalry that thinly shut them 
 out from the city. 
 
 " Boys, d'ye reckon we're here to fight, or jes' to 
 sorter skirmish with 'em for an hour or two ? " 
 asked Sam Loomis. 
 
 " We're here to fight," said Jack. 
 
 " We can't never hold our ground against Long- 
 street's whole army." 
 
 " We're to hold it till they send word that the 
 fort's finished," said Jack. 
 
 " I hope they'll work mighty fast then, for this 
 here ain't no army to send out agin Longstreet." 
 
 " They hain't no better army to send agin him," 
 replied Jack. 
 
 " Man for man, that's so. But Sanders hain't 
 got but a handful o' cavalry." 
 
 "Quit yerjabberin' thar," said old Dan. "You 
 ast a heap o' fool questions. Ef Sanders says to 
 
Fort Sanders and Lookout Mountain 323 
 
 hold this hill till the fort is finished, we'll stand here 
 ef hit takes till the pit freezes over." 
 
 All that day they held the line. At first the 
 rebels advanced against it with easy and confident 
 expectation of pushing back the cavalry and doing 
 their real fighting at the fort ; but as they met with 
 strong resistance, they added to their strength, and 
 renewed the attack again and again. All that day 
 the infantry surged against the line of horsemen, 
 and all day long they were held at bay. Night put 
 an end to the attack, and the weary men rested on 
 their arms. 
 
 Late that night Burnside sent for Sanders and 
 for his chief engineer. 
 
 " Colonel Poe," he asked the latter, " how long 
 will it take to make those works defensible ? " 
 
 " I think I can have them done by noon to- 
 morrow," was the reply. 
 
 " General Sanders, can your men hold their 
 ground till then ? " 
 
 " I think so, sir. They can hardly press us 
 harder than they have done to-day." 
 
 " Your men are heroes, every one. You shall 
 have every horse and sabre that we have ; but we 
 can spare no infantry, for the city must be defended 
 on every side. Hold the line till noon, and we will 
 drive them back." 
 
 Poe and Sanders went out together. 
 
 " Come with me to my quarters, Sanders," said 
 Poe, " and rest a few hours." 
 
 " I will," said Sanders, "for I am weary." 
 
 " Poe," said Sanders, " I'm afraid it will take 
 longer than noon to finish that fort." 
 
324 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " I am afraid so, too, Sanders, but I think by 
 that time it will be defensible. But every spadeful 
 of earth that we can add after that hour will make 
 the city that much more secure." 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 " Sanders, if we are hindered in our work by the 
 artillery firing, do you suppose that you can hold 
 that line past noon ? " 
 
 " It is murder to hold it for a minute longer than 
 is necessary ; but if the safety of the city depends on 
 it, I will hold it until we are forced back, even if it 
 is after noon." 
 
 They lay down on the same blanket, and dropped 
 asleep, but soon Sanders was recalled to his com- 
 mand. When the day broke, the attack was re- 
 newed, and with evident determination to break the 
 line without more ado. The Union soldiers had 
 made for themselves frail defences of fence rails, and 
 stood behind them, dishevelled and powder black- 
 ened, fighting fiercely. Once the rebels pressing 
 down the road with a wild yell broke through the 
 line, and drove the Tennesseeans from their rail pens. 
 Sanders saw the movement, and walked calmly to 
 the place, standing in one of the vacant cribs with 
 half his height exposed to the rebel fire. It was 
 only a moment that he stood alone. Fifty men 
 were at his side in an instant. Jack fired his car- 
 bine into the struggling mass of Confederates, and, 
 fixing his sabre bayonet, rushed into the melee. 
 The rebels were surging against the rails. Jack 
 drove his bayonet through the shoulder of one of 
 them who was climbing over. Old Dan met in sin- 
 gle fight a swarthv Texan who was raising his sabre 
 
Fort Sanders and Lookout Mountain 325 
 
 to strike at Sanders, and when the blow fell, it was 
 on the head of grizzled old Dan, and his sabre was 
 in the Texan's breast. 
 
 Hour after hour the men in the fort watched 
 with admiration the unequal contest, and bent their 
 energies anew to the work of completing the fort. 
 Noon came, and still the cavalry, dismounted and 
 fighting hand to hand, held the enemy at bay. 
 Sanders looked at his watch, then turned and 
 scanned the earthwork, and turned to the fight 
 again. 
 
 One o'clock, and again he turned and looked. 
 
 " They're doing well, boys," he said. " Hold 
 on a little longer." 
 
 Two o'clock, and still the fight went on. 
 
 " Hold it an hour, boys," he cried, "just another 
 hour, and we will fall back ! " 
 
 The fight grew more furious. The rebels real- 
 ized that if they were to reach the fort that day 
 they must speedily break the line. Rallying again 
 they came on with an ear-piercing yell, and broke 
 full on the middle of the line. It wavered. San- 
 ders saw it weakening, and hurled himself into the 
 place that was beginning to break. There was a 
 cheer, and the men rallied to his support. There 
 was a moment of murderous fighting, and then again 
 the rebels fell back ; but the gallant Sanders fell at 
 the front, mortally wounded. 
 
 It was useless to hold the line longer. The cur- 
 tain of cavalry that for two days had shut in the 
 city from Longstreet's approach withdrew like the 
 gathering of a scroll, taking their wounded and 
 the body of their leader. "They buried him darkly. 
 
326 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 at dead of night," tliat the officers scattered along 
 the Hne might attend his funeral ; and the whole 
 army mourned the death of a hero. 
 
 As Jack was turning to leave, he heard a voice 
 faintly calling him from the rail pen next to his. 
 
 " Why, Sam," said he, " you're wounded, ain't you ? 
 I'm mighty sorry. Come, I'll help you to the town." 
 
 " I'm afeard I'm done for. Jack, Look how 
 this arm is splintered. An' see how it bleeds." 
 
 Jack twisted his handkerchief around the shattered 
 arm, and helped his friend to the rear. 
 
 "Cheer up, ole feller," he said "you ain't a-goin* 
 to die." 
 
 " I reckon I hain't good fur much more fightin'." 
 
 " I'm afeard not, Sam. I reckon you'll hatter go 
 home an' git sorter 'quainted with that baby that 
 was born atter you enlisted." 
 
 It was hard getting him to the rear, but Jack 
 succeeded, and saw him safely in the hospital. That 
 night they told Jack that Sam would recover, but 
 must lose his arm, and Jack went next day to assist 
 the amputation. Something dropped from its quiv- 
 ering fingers when the knife severed it, and Jack 
 picked up, and reverently tucked under the pillow, 
 the pair of little outgrown baby shoes. 
 
 The next day Longstreet's hardy soldiers bore 
 down upon the new fort, which by order of General 
 Burnside was named Fort Sanders, Never was 
 there a more determined dash ; never was there 
 braver defence. But the lives of the brave men 
 who fell with Sanders had purchased their value in 
 the strength of the place, and Longstreet's hardy 
 men fell back without advantage. 
 
Fort Sanders and Lookout Mountain 327 
 
 Then ensued a siege, with wet and foggy weather, 
 and no fighting of importance. The other works 
 were strengthened ; but it was confidently expected 
 that the main attack would be made on Fort Sanders. 
 A lot of rusty telegraph wire was procured, and 
 stretched from stump to stump over the ground 
 across which the attack must proceed. Provisions 
 grew scarce in Knoxville, and the garrison must 
 have starved, had not the loyal people above the 
 city, at great risk, floated down provisions to them 
 in the night, which served to provide half rations. 
 Longstreet began to expect that he would capture 
 Knoxville without more fighting, such as had cost 
 him so dear. 
 
 But word came to him from Chattanooga, which 
 caused him to hasten his plans. Bragg was not 
 succeeding as well as he had hoped. Rosecrans 
 had been relieved from his command, and Grant 
 had come. Rosecrans had been full of plans for 
 the saving of the Union army, and freely gave them 
 to General Grant, who naively remarks in his ac- 
 count of the campaign, " My only wonder was that 
 he had not carried them out." Grant was now 
 carrying them out, and Bragg was by no means 
 happy. 
 
 This made it important that Longstreet should 
 have done with Knoxville, and hasten to help Bragg. 
 So on Sunday, November 29, 1863, he began 
 action by pouring upon Fort Sanders his heaviest 
 artillery fire. For twenty minutes the rain of 
 metal continued, and then stopped : and out of 
 the woods there swept the lines of Longstreet's 
 splendid army. The night had been cold ; the 
 
328 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 morning was dull and foggy. The men got en- 
 tangled in the meshes of the wire. The guns tore 
 great gaps in their ranks. The musketry poured 
 in its shot upon them. They broke all lines. 
 They ignored all organization. There was never 
 a more splendid exhibition of individual courage 
 than when, disentangling themselves from the wire, 
 those men rose up and pressed on, singly and in 
 squads, toward the fresh clay of Fort Sanders. 
 Water had been poured on the fresh earth. It had 
 frozen thinly. Sometimes the men slipped upon 
 it, and again they broke through. They floundered 
 in the mud of the ditch, but they ploughed their 
 way through. They sank deep in the fresh earth 
 of the parapet, but they slowly made their way up 
 the slope. They fell by scores as they slowly 
 climbed the redoubt, but they came on. They 
 planted their battle flags on the crest. They met 
 the garrison with empty guns and fixed bayonets. 
 They climbed over the dead bodies of their com- 
 rades and strove with the gunners for possession of 
 the cannon. But no human flesh could stand before 
 such fire as they received. Musketry belched in 
 their faces. Cannon hurled grape among them at 
 point-blank range. Shells rolled by hand over the 
 parapet exploded among them as they struggled in 
 the ditch. And behind the new wall of earth stood 
 men with fixed bayonets, and courage grim and 
 desperate as their own. Broken and shattered, the 
 splendid fragments of Longstreet's fine brigades 
 fell back, hopelessly repulsed. 
 
 A week longer Longstreet sullenly besieged the 
 city. There was no further attack — that would 
 
Fort Sanders and Lookout Mountain 329 
 
 have been murder. But by Tuesday large wagon 
 trains belonging to his army could be seen moving 
 eastward. On the following day troops were seen 
 taking their departure. There was no further move 
 apparent on Thursday, but there was a general 
 indication of discouragement. On Friday night 
 Longstreet withdrew his army from about the city, 
 and the siege was raised. 
 
 With great joy the soldiers and citizens hailed 
 their deliverance, and at once communications were 
 opened with Chattanooga. Then they learned for 
 the first time, how a few days previous to their own 
 fierce fight at Fort Sanders, the Union forces had 
 scaled the palisades of Lookout Mountain, and had 
 swept over the slopes of Missionary Ridge, driving 
 Bragg's men before them, capturing their guns, and 
 turning them on the retreating foe. Thus by a 
 double victory East Tennessee was freed from the 
 power of the Confederate government. 
 
 A few days later the news of these victories reached 
 Roundstone and Estill, bringing joy and hope. Joe 
 Whitley had taken long to recover from the wound 
 which he received at the battle of Richmond. He 
 was able in time to be about, and to ride back and 
 forth from Estill to Roundstone ; but he gained 
 slowly, and after a year of waiting he had reported 
 at Camp Nelson and was honorably discharged from 
 the service. He would be well in time, the surgeons 
 said, but probably never very rugged. So the war 
 was over for Joe, and he moved back and forth 
 between his two homes, the old home on Round- 
 stone, and the home that was to be his in Estill. 
 
 "Joe," asked Jennie, "why don't you jes' marry 
 
J30 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 Becky an' be done with it ? You cain't go to the 
 war agin." 
 
 "We're waitin' for Mr. Murray to git home from 
 Andersonville," said Joe. 
 
 But the months passed by, and Mr. Murray did 
 not return, and at length it seemed to all a wise thing 
 for the young couple to be married. 
 
 " Becky," he asked, "what preacher would ye like 
 to have marry us ? " 
 
 " I'd like to have Mr. Fee," said Becky. 
 
 " You mean the abolitionist ? " 
 
 "Yes ; the man at Berea. He used to come out 
 here an' preach, an' stopped here over night once or 
 twice, and pa always liked him." 
 
 " I'd like myself to have him. But the blue 
 grass folks druv him out, didn't they ? " 
 
 " He is back," said Mrs. Murray. " I heerd 
 last week about him bein' back, an' preachin' over 
 on Horse Lick. He's moved back with his wife, 
 an' they're at Berea now. They hain't started the 
 school agin, but he's preachin' thar." 
 
 " Less go over thar an' git married, Becky." 
 
 " I'm willin'," said she. 
 
 A few days afterward Joe and Becky rode up 
 Berea ridge, inquiring for Mr. Fee. He was at 
 his home, and had gathered there the children of 
 the neighborhood, and in lieu of any other school, 
 was, with the aid of his wife, instructing them. He 
 was a small man, but Joe marked him as one who, 
 if a soldier, would go without flinching to the can- 
 non's mouth. He had in him that dogged, stubborn 
 courage that makes sometimes the fanatic, and again 
 the hero. He had shared the early efforts of 
 
Fort Sanders and Lookout Mountain 331 
 
 Cassius M. Clay, and was still at his work in spite 
 of war and mob. Mrs. Fee came with him to the 
 door. She was a cheery, cordial little woman, with 
 a womanly insight into things, and knew at a glance 
 what had brought the young people. 
 
 " You must get down and stay to dinner," said 
 she. " Let's have the horses put out, and we will 
 get acquainted." Mr. Fee greeted them no less 
 heartily, but soon withdrew to his study to finish 
 a tract against the evils of caste distinction ; for, 
 slavery having been abolished, he was seeking more 
 worlds to conquer. 
 
 The announcement of dinner brought him from 
 his study, and during the meal he talked pleasantly 
 and without bitterness of his experiences, his wife 
 occasionally adding a bright touch to the narrative. 
 
 The meal finished, Mr. Fee took his Bible and 
 read the chapter concerning Isaac and Rebecca, and 
 Mrs. Fee interrupted the reading to remark that Re- 
 becca was the name of this bride, whom she believed 
 to be worthy of her name. 
 
 It was a simple but impressive marriage service. 
 There was no ring, there was no elaborate ritual. 
 The pledges which they made were few, and the 
 fee was a pittance. But two young hearts went out 
 into life together with a benediction resting on them, 
 and an ideal before them, which they never forgot. 
 
 There was something sacred about that ride home- 
 ward. The world seemed other than it had been, 
 and in after days they tried to make the rocks and 
 trees appear just as they did that day, but with only 
 partial success. Life was transfigured for them, and 
 the inspiration of that day never wholly forsook 
 
22'^ A Hero in Homespun 
 
 them. Among the truly happy homes in Estill 
 County to this day, after years of life, bringing joy 
 and pain, there is none that is brighter than that of 
 Joseph and Rebecca Whitley. 
 
 " JoCj who is that sittin' on the porch ? " asked 
 Becky, as they came in sight of the house. 
 
 Joe looked, and could hardly speak. 
 
 " It looks like — " he said. 
 
 But Becky with a glad little cry urged her horse 
 ahead, and had dismounted in a trice, and when 
 Joe came up she was clasped in the arms of her 
 father. 
 
 Mrs. Murray had prepared her best supper, and 
 they were sitting happily at the table when there 
 was a shout at the gate, and they rushed out to 
 welcome Eph Whitley. 
 
 " Home on a thirty days' furlough ! " he explained. 
 " Captain Wilson's home, too, and five of his men. 
 Gin'ral Thomas gin orders that we was to have a 
 month off for bein' the fust men on the top o' 
 Lookout Mountain." ^ 
 
 " Did ye take the flag ? " eagerly asked Joe, 
 
 " The flag ! I reckon we did. Hit was the fust 
 flag on the summit, an' when we waved it from the 
 big rock on top, hit was cheered by a hundred 
 thousand men ! " 
 
 Joe's eyes flashed with excitement, and then grew 
 dim. " I wisht Bill could a ben thar," he said. 
 
 1 "The following named officers are granted leave of absence for the period of 
 time set opposite their respective names : Capt. John Wilson, Co. C, 8th Ken- 
 tucky Vols., 30 days, for gallant and heroic conduct on the morning of the 25th 
 day of November, 1863, at the battle of Chattanooga, in advancing with five 
 enlisted men and placing the Colors of the 8th Kentucky Vols. Inft. on the peak of 
 Lookout Mountain, in the face of the enemy. . . . 
 
 "By Command of Major General Thomas." 
 
Fort Sanders and Lookout Mountain ^33 
 
 There are huge tablets in bronze on Lookout 
 Point, telling the valor of regiments able to pay for 
 perpetuating the glory of their deeds on that spot. 
 But the bravest of all those deeds is not thus re- 
 corded. One must go to the records of the War 
 Department, or into the mountains of Kentucky, to 
 learn how the flag that first looked down from 
 Lookout Point upon its image in the Tennessee, 
 was that made by the loyal women of Estill County, 
 and borne aloft by Captain John Wilson and his 
 brawny men of the 8th Kentucky. It came home 
 at length with honor, and still is venerated by the 
 women who made it, and the men who bravely carried 
 it, in the battle above the clouds. 
 
XXVI 11 
 
 Mary Gossett's Baby 
 
 ONE day in the autumn of 1863, a woman, 
 passing along Roundstone Creek, stopped 
 at the Whitley gate and asked Cub for 
 a drink. Cub was afraid of her, and ran 
 to the house to call Jennie. Jennie came to the 
 gate with Cub clinging to her skirts. 
 
 " Come in," she said, "an' rest a spell." 
 
 " I don't guess I'll stop," said the woman. 
 " I'm in a hurry, sorter." 
 
 " Come in while I git ye a drink, anyhow." 
 
 " I'll put myself level on a cheer a minit on the 
 porch. I'm sorter tard." 
 
 " I should think ye would be. Hit's plumb 
 hard walkin'. Did ye come fur ? " 
 
 " A right smart piece," said the visitor, in a tone 
 that forbade further inquiry. 
 
 Jennie brought the water and gave it to the 
 woman, who was evidently greatly fatigued. 
 
 "You best stop a spell," said Jennie. "You're 
 plumb used up. We'll have some dinner right 
 soon now." 
 
 " Be they ary sojer about ^ " asked the woman, 
 cautiously. 
 
 " Nary one. I don't reckon they'd hurt ye, 
 nohow." 
 
 " I dunno. I dunno. But ef they hain't none 
 
 334 
 
Mary Gossett's Baby 235 
 
 here, they won't hurt me. I reckon I'll stop, fur 
 I'm mighty nigh tuckered." 
 
 " Take off yer sunbonnet an' make yerself to 
 home," said Jennie. " I'll hurry up the dinner." 
 
 " I'll keep my sunbonnet on, right whar hit is," 
 said the stranger, a little resentfully, " an' I don' keer 
 fur no dinner. I jes' wanter rest." 
 
 Elizabeth returned soon afterward from the 
 woods, bringing with her the first ripe papaws, 
 which were to serve as a relish for the frugal dinner. 
 Jennie was working in the kitchen, preparing a 
 hoe cake. 
 
 " Ma, they's a sorter quare woman settin' in the 
 porch. I just wist you'd go an' see her." 
 
 " How d'ye mean quare ? " asked Elizabeth. 
 
 " I reckon she's all right. She don't act like no 
 fool nor nothin', but she don't seem to be rightly at 
 herself" 
 
 " I'll go see," said Elizabeth, and went to greet 
 the stranger. In a moment there were such cries 
 from the porch as brought Jennie in all haste from 
 the kitchen. 
 
 " Wy, 'Liz'beth Casey! For the land o' good- 
 ness ! 
 
 "Well, I never! Mary Gossett! How under 
 the canopy o' heaven did you come here ? " 
 
 "I — I don' har'ly know how come I here," 
 stammered Mary. " Hit's a sorter long story," 
 
 " Don't tell us nothin' till atter dinner," said 
 Jennie. "You'll feel better then." 
 
 " I didn't 'low to eat," protested Mary. 
 
 " Matter o' cose you'll eat," . said Jennie. " I 
 got the hoe cake mighty nigh ready." 
 
2^6 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " Wall, ef hit don' make no trouble, mebby I 
 will. I do feel a sort of gallness in my stummick." 
 
 She washed her face without taking off her sun- 
 bonnet, and kept it on at the table, though Elizabeth 
 gently suggested its removal. 
 
 After dinner, which she ate with evident relish, 
 she offered to help about the work, but Elizabeth 
 and Jennie both objected. 
 
 " You hain't a-goin' to do nothin' o' the kind," 
 said Elizabeth. " I'll tell you what you're a-goin' 
 to do. You're a-goin' right into the room an' lay 
 down on the bed an' take a nap o' sleep, while 
 Jennie an' me does the dishes. Then when you 
 git rested, we'll se' down an' have a good visit." 
 
 Mary was too weak to protest, and allowed her- 
 self to be led to the bed, where she lay down, still 
 wearing her sunbonnet, and soon was fast asleep. 
 
 Late in the afternoon Jennie tip-toed through 
 the room on some errand, and the sunbonnet had 
 fallen back, exposing a head that had been totally 
 bald, and was just beginning to show the promise 
 of a growth of hair. 
 
 " Ma," said Jennie, " I don't reckon we best to 
 say anything more about her a-takin' off her sun- 
 bonnet. She hain't got no hair." 
 
 " She useter have," said Elizabeth, " as purty a 
 head o' hair as ever I seen. Don't ye recollec' 
 seein' of her the night o' the Hansons' frolic ? " 
 
 " I remember now, but I wouldn't a knowed 
 her. Mebby she's had some fever or somethin'." 
 
 " I reckon so. An' she's sorter sensitive, any- 
 how. But she ain't crazy." 
 
 Mary slept the better part of the afternoon, and 
 
Mary Gossett's Baby 337 
 
 in the evening, when the dishes had been washed, the) 
 all sat about the fire and waited for her to tell her story. 
 
 "You don' think I'm crazy, do you, 'Liz'beth ? " 
 
 " Not a mite, Mary. I know you're all right. 
 But you've been sick, hain't you ? " 
 
 " Yes. I've had measles, 'n' had 'em bad." 
 
 " That's a pity. I never did hear o' growed 
 people a-havin' measles till this war come on. Then 
 'pears lack they hain't nothin' too bad to have." 
 
 " That's huccum I to hev 'em," said Mary. " I 
 got 'em in the army." 
 
 " Tell us all about it," said Jennie. 
 
 " Hit all begun when Bill jined the army," said 
 Mary. 
 
 " The Union army ? " asked Elizabeth. 
 
 " No. The rebel army." 
 
 "You don't mean it ! Bill hain't no reb ? " 
 
 " Yes, he is. He hadter be." 
 
 " Pore feller ! I know he's fur the Union." 
 
 " So he was. But hit was thisaway. Less see. 
 When did you leave East Tennessy ? " 
 
 " Hit was last Apri/e was a year ago — Spring 
 o' eighteen an' sixty-two." 
 
 " Wall, hit was jes' atter that. You know Bill 
 had been a-hidin' out, sorter not wantin' to leave 
 me — cause I was sorter lookin' to be sick, an' not 
 well nohow." 
 
 "I knowed about that," said Elizabeth, "an' I 
 'lowed to be thar an' help you through, ef I hadn't 
 a come off suddent." 
 
 " I know," said Mary. "Wall, the baby come in 
 July, an' I didn't har'ly reckon I'd ever git up agin. 
 But afore that, they lef word for Bill that ef he'd 
 
jjS A Hero in Homespun 
 
 jine the rebs he wouldn't be sent off south, but jes' 
 enlisted an' sorter kep' about nigh home, to gyard 
 Knoxville ; but ef he didn't, they layed out to hunt 
 him down an' send him to Andersonville or Tusca- 
 loosy, one." 
 
 " That was mighty hard," said Elizabeth. 
 
 "Wall, Bill had kep a-sayin' ever sence he'd 
 knowed how I was, says he, ' I'll see ye through, 
 Polly,' says he — he allers calls me Polly — 'an' 
 then by that time I reckon the Union sojers'U be 
 here, and mebby I won't hatter fight, but ef I do,' 
 says he, * thar's whar I'll fight,' says he." 
 
 "Wall?" 
 
 " Wall, he had a mighty hard time on it, specially 
 atter the Gov'nor gin out that proclamation orderin' 
 all able-bodied men inter the rebel army. Bill he 
 wanted to go north then, but 'peared lack I 
 couldn't let him. I was a-feeUn' mighty bad every 
 day, an' I sorter had a presentmaint that I wasn't 
 a-goin' to live through it, an' I baiged him notter 
 
 go — " „ . 
 
 " I don't wonder," said Jennie. 
 
 " Wall, you wouldn't wonder ef you'd a felt as I 
 felt. Wall, when they sent that word to Bill — " 
 
 " Who sent it ? " 
 
 " The rebel captain at Rutledge. He was a-tryin' 
 powerful to git enlistmaints. He lef word at the 
 house fur me ter tell Bill he'd hunt him down an' 
 sen' him south ef he didn't enlist, but ef he did he 
 wouldn't Hkely hatter go off at all. 
 
 " Wall, Bill come in next even' 'bout an hour 
 b' sun, an' I tole him, an' Bill he warn't a-goin' ter 
 do it. 
 
Mary Gossett's Baby 339 
 
 " ' I'll go north,' says he, ' an jine the Yanks.' 
 
 " But I jes' held to him. ' Oh, Bill,' says I, * don' 
 leave me now. Go in an' list. What odds is it, 
 anyhow ? The Yanks don' know nothin' about us, 
 or ef they do, they don' keer. Jine the rebs, Bill, 
 an' stay till I die ! ' 
 
 " ' Ye hain't a-goin' ter die, Polly,' says he sorter 
 tender, an' sorter skeered, too. ' I'm afeard I be,' 
 says I, ' an' who's a-goin' ter keer fur the baby, the 
 baby that's a-comin' ? ' Bill he sot a-thinkin', an' I 
 was a-cryin'. Says I, ' Oh, Bill, do this, an' I won't 
 never ast you for nothin' agin ! ' 
 
 " Bill he sorter hesitated, an' jes' then they come 
 a noise o' horses a-gallopin' down the road, an' the 
 nex' thing they was three rebel cavalrymen at the 
 fence. Bill he started to run out the back door, 
 an' then he looked back at me an' turned on his 
 heel right in the middle o' the floor, an' come over 
 an' kissed me an' says, says he, ' Don't cry, Polly, 
 I'll do it ! ' An' he went out o' the front door an' 
 met the sojers at the fence, an' when I come out 
 they was a spreckle-faced feller settin' on one horse, 
 an' he had a sergeant's braid on his coat sleeve, an' 
 he was a-holdin' up his hand fur to show Bill how, 
 an' Bill was a-holdin' up his hand an' a-swearin' to be 
 a rebel. That night was the fust he'd slep in the 
 house sence Aprile ; an' the next day Bill went to 
 Rutledge an' enlisted." 
 
 " I cyan't har'ly blame ye, Mary," said Elizabeth. 
 
 " Wall, Bill was about home mighty nigh half the 
 time then till the Yanks advanced on Cumberland 
 Gap. But then they gethered all the men in and 
 tole 'em to be ready to move. An' then you know 
 
340 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 the Yanks tuck the Gap — I mean the fust time, 
 was a year ago — an' Bill an' his company was jes' 
 acrost the river from the house, an' expectin' fur to 
 hatter go furder south when the Yanks moved on 
 Knoxville. 
 
 " Bill was with me when the baby was borned. 
 You'd orter see him, 'Liz'beth. He's the cutest little 
 feller ! Bill named him Jefferson Abraham Gossett. 
 He said the Abraham was fur him an' the Jefferson 
 fur me ; fur he uster sorter devil me about me 
 makin' a rebel outen him. But then, as I was 
 a-sayin', when they moved jes' acrost the river I 
 agreed with Bill to signal over ef the Yanks come. 
 An' shore enough, one day down come a rig'maint 
 full hickory, an' stopped an' ast me fur the ford. I 
 tole 'em the way to the upper ford." 
 
 "The lower one's a mile nearder," said Elizabeth. 
 
 " I know it. An' then I run out an' hung up a 
 red rag, an' then I heerd two guns go off on the 
 other side, an' I know'd that Bill had seed the rag. 
 That's how the Yank's didn't git Bill an' his 
 company. They was gone back into the hills afore 
 the Yanks got thar. 
 
 " But the Yanks come back next day, right mad, 
 an' arrested me fur signallin' to the enemy. They 
 made me leave my baby — " 
 
 Here Mary began sobbing, and Elizabeth and 
 Jennie cried with her. 
 
 " The Yanks hain't much better'n the rebs ! " 
 cried Jennie. 
 
 " No, Jennie, the men hain't, but the cause is," 
 said Elizabeth. " What else, Mary ? " 
 
 " They tuck me to the Gap, an' I baiged 'em to 
 
Mary Gossett's Baby 341 
 
 let me go back ; but they said it was me that kep' 
 'em from baggin' a hull company, an' it was a crime. 
 They 'peared lack they didn't wanter try me thar, 
 so they kep' along from day ter day, an' when they 
 come ter thinkin' o' leavin' the Gap in the fall, then 
 they sent me ter Camp Nelson on the Kaintuck," 
 
 " We know whar it is," said Jennie. 
 
 " Wall, thar they was sorter good ter me, an' I 
 'lowed I'd git to go back, but they said I'd hatter 
 wait fur orders from Washington, an' I waited month 
 atter month, an' while I was waitin' I tuck sick with 
 the measles. I wasn't real strong, nohow, an' I had 
 'em hard. My hair all — " 
 
 She stopped and pulled her sunbonnet tighter and 
 began again. 
 
 " I got most well an' then had a relapse, and was 
 wuss'n ever. Wall, when I got well the las' time 
 they didn't gyard me nor nothin' but jes' lef me 
 runnin' aroun' the hospital, an' I kep' a-thinkin' 
 about my baby. He's more'n a year old now ef 
 he's a-livin'. I reckon they'd all sorter forgot 
 huccum I thar. They warn't never nothin' said 
 about it, but they didn't no word come to let me 
 go, an' I jes' couldn't stan' hit no longer. So two 
 weeks ago I run away." 
 
 They understood it all then, and gave Mary all 
 assurance of affectionate sympathy. They looked 
 at Cub, sleeping now, and pitied this poor mother. 
 They kept her with them two days — she would stay 
 no longer — and then Elizabeth took her behind her 
 on a horse — she was so light and frail as hardly to 
 add to the load — and set off with her through the 
 woods to the East Tennessee line. It was a two 
 
J42. A Hero in Homespun 
 
 days' ride to where she left her, and the waters were 
 flowing to the south, indicating that they had passed 
 the watershed which is the boundary between the 
 States. Then EHzabeth took leave of her, and Mary 
 resumed her lonely journey. 
 
 " Keep right acrost the headwaters o' the Clinch," 
 said Elizabeth, " an' when ye strike the headwaters 
 o' the Holston, foUer down. I don't reckon ye'U 
 find any sojers of ary kind. Ef ye do they won't 
 pester ye. An' God bless ye an' the baby." 
 
XXIX 
 
 The Heart of Bessie Granger 
 
 SEVERAL months had now passed since Jack 
 had seen Bessie Granger. He thought of 
 her often, and with a mixed feehng of ad- 
 miration and of wounded self-esteem. But 
 more and more it came to be apparent that their 
 attraction toward each other had been the result of 
 the somewhat unreal conditions in which they had 
 met, and not because of common interests that would 
 have been likely to last. 
 
 " I wonder why she wanted to fall in love with 
 such an ignorant fool as me, anyhow ? " he often 
 said to himself. But as Jack was young and hand- 
 some, and had good sense and some rude graces, 
 and especially as thousands of women as wise as 
 Bessie Granger are constantly falling in love with 
 men less worthy, that question need not have given 
 him great concern. 
 
 He wished he was well out of it. He had not 
 said when last he saw her what he had meant to say. 
 The approach of his regiment, the outburst of her 
 passion, and his admiration for her had caused him 
 to be less frank than he had meant to be. He was 
 not sure, when her passion had spent itself, whether 
 her regard for him would reassert itself. She had 
 cast him off, yet had somewhat relented. He 
 had shown her that he was a Union soldier, but had 
 
 343 
 
344 ^ Hero in Homespun 
 
 told her nothing of Jennie. He was not sure how 
 far he had seemed to commit himself to Bessie, 
 nor whether he had at all honorably released him- 
 self. He did not know whether he was bound to 
 her or not. He wished for nothing so much as 
 permission to march through Murfreesboro, that he 
 might meet her in his own character, with oppor- 
 tunity to be openly honest and have the matter 
 settled. 
 
 For as Jack returned to his real self he found, 
 and the months had proved it, that the image of Bes- 
 sie began to fade out of his heart, and there appeared 
 more plainly another which hers had never wholly 
 obliterated, but like the dissolving view of a stereop- 
 ticon had all the while been dimly on the screen and 
 now grew in brightness. 
 
 Whatever his thoughts in waking hours, it was 
 Jennie that he saw in his dreams. Sometimes he 
 saw her face as he had seen it in freshness and 
 beauty at the Hansons' party, when a look of sin- 
 cere admiration for him had transfigured it. Then 
 he saw her as he had seen her at the spinning-wheel. 
 Then he saw her as he had never seen her in life, 
 with a look of sad reproach because of Bessie 
 Granger. Then her face appeared as he had seen 
 it in the candle-light when she stood in the door 
 with Cub, on the night of her father's murder. 
 And Cub ! Ah, Cub ! Dear little fellow, how he 
 loved him, and how Jennie loved him ! If any- 
 thing had been lacking to anchor his affection to 
 Jennie Whitley, and make It certain that he must 
 give up all thought of Bessie Granger, it would have 
 been found in the mutual interest which he and Jennie 
 
The Heart of Bessie Granger 345 
 
 had in Cub. But he could not in honor offer him- 
 self to Jennie till he should again see Bessie. But 
 what if she still loved him? He felt like a thief as 
 he thought of it, and remembered her unquestioning 
 trust and courage on the night of their ride in the 
 canoe, when she had risked her life for him. 
 
 Meantime, fortunately, he had duties enough to 
 occupy his thought a good share of the time ; and 
 no man could say, whatever Jack Casey's deflection 
 from duty on the one occasion of his meeting with 
 the fascinating Bessie, that as a soldier he was ever 
 otherwise than reliable, constant, and brave. 
 
 After the siege of Knoxville, the cavalry and 
 mounted infantry were scattered in detachments 
 through the mountains to protect Knoxville against 
 further assault, and the people against marauding 
 bands of guerillas. Unfortunately, Burnside did 
 not follow Longstreet, or wholly drive him from 
 the State, and bodies of Confederates remained in the 
 eastern counties, greatly to the distress of the people. 
 
 Hundreds of Tennesseeans now came in from 
 their places of hiding to enlist in the Union army ; 
 and these were organized, as well as possible, into 
 companies and regiments. In one of the com- 
 panies thus formed, when the list of officers was 
 read, there appeared a name which had received a 
 commission " for gallant conduct on the field of 
 battle," Lieutenant Andrew Jackson Casey. 
 
 Jack's office was no sinecure. His men were ig- 
 norant and undiscipHned. They were well mounted, 
 and most of them lived less than two days' ride 
 away, and began at once to exercise their accustomed 
 freedom in going and coming at will. 
 
346 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " That's what we jined the army for," said one 
 dehnquent. " Good heavens an' arth, leftenant, 
 we hain't had our freedom with the rebs hyur. I 
 reckon we kin have it now." 
 
 Then not a few of the later enlistments were of 
 men who had been doing more or less fighting on 
 their own account, and had come to enjoy the 
 methods of guerilla warfare. General Carter had 
 not a little trouble because of the depredations of 
 his own troops. 
 
 " What have you got in your blanket, there ? " 
 asked Jack one day of a raw recruit whom he met 
 coming into camp with his blanket bulging sus- 
 piciously above his knapsack. 
 
 The soldier sheepishly attempted to evade the 
 question, but when pressed, unrolled the blanket 
 and displayed a beheaded goose. 
 
 " Didn't you know they was orders agin com- 
 mittin' depredations ? " Jack demanded. 
 
 "I hain't committed no depredations," said the 
 man. 
 
 " What do you mean ? You've ben stealin' 
 poultry." 
 
 " No, officer, I nain't. I done hit in self-defence." 
 
 "In self-defence ? " 
 
 " Yessir. I was comin' to-wards camp, along 
 whar the road runs beside the creek, an' I seen this 
 goose an' two others a-comin' down to the warter. 
 I stopped an' looked, an' my mouth sorter wartered 
 for 'em, but thinks I, ' No, sir,' thinks I, * I'll obey 
 orders.' Wall, I went ter pass, an' blamed ef the 
 hull three on 'em didn't stretch out thar necks an' 
 hiss at me, thisaway, ' Sh-sh-sh-sh ! ' 'By golly,' 
 
The Heart of Bessie Granger 347 
 
 says I, ' I might stand that ef I was a private citi- 
 zen, but bein' a sqjer of this great an' glorious 
 nation, hit tain't right. Hit's an msult ter the 
 Gov'maint. As long's I wears the blue,' says I, 
 ' no goose shall assault me.' I jes' hauled out my 
 sabre an' made a clean sweep at him an' cut off his 
 head, an' the rest o' the inemy retreated, an' I 
 fetched this one a prisoner inter camp. I'll send 
 ye over a slice on her to-night, leftenant." 
 
 There was one comfort in it all. Whenever there 
 was any real fighting to be done, the men could be 
 counted on, and Jack heartily hoped for some. 
 But the winter passed, and the summer dragged 
 itself along, and there was only fighting with strag- 
 gling bushwhackers. 
 
 One day there was brought into camp a man 
 charged with being a rebel spy, and the men, who 
 had a zeal not always according to knowledge, were 
 for hanging him at once. 
 
 " Let him have a fair trial," said Jack. " I'll 
 hang nobody. I'll send him to Gen'ral Carter." 
 
 The man was brought to him, and said, 
 
 " Hit's a lie, officer, I ain't no rebel spy." 
 
 " No, I reckon not," said Jack, extending his 
 hand. " How d'you come on, Steph Crowell ? 
 They won't hang you this time, I reckon. I'll pay 
 you now the boot on that horse." 
 
 " Ef hit tain't Jack Casey, Solomon was a sutler ! 
 Wall, I reckon I never needed a friend much wuss. 
 But by gum. Jack, I wouldn't a knowed you in 
 them shoulder straps. Yer face looks sorter pecul- 
 iar, as the ole woman says, but I couldn't somehow 
 reconstruct yer name." 
 
348 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " I'm glad to see you, Steph. You ain't a-goin' to 
 git hurt by my men, now I can tell ye." 
 
 " Daggoned ef I wouldn't like to be one o' yer 
 men myself, ef hit warn't fur the company I'd 
 hatter keep. I never seed sech a tribe in my life." 
 
 " They're all right, Steph, only they don't know 
 right how to do things. Why don't you enlist ? " 
 
 " Wall, I've had a heap o' reasons, so fur. At 
 fust I didn't know which way the cat would jump. 
 Then I sorter got to helpin' a leetle sendin' informa- 
 tion to the Union army, an' I sorter thought I was 
 a-doin' about as much good an' boardin' to hum. I 
 don't like the beds yer give fellers to sleep in, in 
 the army. They hain't no place to throw yer boots 
 under 'em." 
 
 This was Steph's method of stating his objection 
 to sleeping on the ground. 
 
 " Do as you like. They shan't hurt you." 
 
 " Wall, I've found that hit's mighty uncomfort- 
 able haltin' between two opinions, as the preacher 
 says, an' the next ossifer in these parts may not 
 happen to owe me any boot on a hoss trade. I 
 reckon I'll enlist." 
 
 One day, late in the summer, a paroled Confeder- 
 ate soldier was brought in by Jack's men, who had 
 refused to honor his pass till it had been approved 
 by Jack. 
 
 " Sam Marshall ! " cried Jack, " you here, and 
 paroled ? I didn't reckon you'd ever give a 
 parole." 
 
 " Howdy, Jack," said Sam. " I'm mighty sorry 
 to trouble you, but mebby the account stands a little 
 bit to my credit now on that Murfreesboro deal. I 
 
The Heart of Bessie Granger 349 
 
 wouldn't a ben paroled, but I had to be or go north 
 to prison, one, an' I don't hanker after Camp Mor- 
 ton much more than you do after Andersonville. 
 You know after the battle o' Stone River they took 
 me from the field for hospital service, an' left me 
 behind with the wounded till the Union surgeons 
 could care for 'em, an' sent us back later under a 
 flag o' truce. At Chattanoogy they done the same, 
 only the Union men wouldn't send me back. They 
 noticed my shoulder straps, an' when they found I'd 
 done the same thing before, an' had ben a-fightin' 
 sence, they said I wouldn't hardly rank as a non- 
 combatant. So they was goin' to send me to prison ; 
 but as I had stayed in good faith, they sorter com- 
 promised an' said ef I'd go home an' not bear arms 
 agin till the close o' the war, they'd let me go. I 
 reckoned the war was about over, anyhow, when 
 Bragg was defeated there, an' it warn't much to prom- 
 ise. So I promised, an' got my passes, an' went to 
 Murfreesboro an' visited a girl I knowed there an* 
 had promised to marry, an' I got married an' stayed 
 there a little spell, an' then come north with my 
 wife, thinkin' I'd git back home an' go to practisin* 
 medicine agin. It's ben mighty slow travellin', but 
 I got this far, an' I don't reckon you'll stop me 
 now." 
 
 " No, your pass is all right. And, Sam, ef you 
 don't mind, I don't see no use now of you an' me not 
 bein' friends. I'm mighty thankful to you fur what 
 you done fur me in Murfreesboro. I don't reckon 
 no harm come of it." 
 
 " I'm wiUin' to be friends. I'd like to have you 
 meet my wife." 
 
350 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " I'd like to meet her. Where is she ? " 
 
 " Back where the pickets stopped me." 
 
 " I'll send for her." 
 
 In a few moments she arrived, a pretty figure, her 
 face covered with a sunbonnet after the manner of 
 the land. 
 
 " My wife. Lieutenant Casey. Bessie, this offi- 
 cer's an old friend o' mine." 
 
 Jack raised his cap and she looked down at him 
 under her sunbonnet. 
 
 " I think we've met before," she said. 
 
 " Sam," said Jack, " I wish you much joy. Miss 
 Bessie, you've got as brave a man as they is in 
 Tennessy. Sam, I reckon I knowed your wife 
 afore you did, an' ef any man has a right to give 
 his blessin' an' to wish you well, it's me, I reckon, 
 an' I do it with all my heart." 
 
 The story was told in a word. Sam had remained 
 some weeks in the hospital at Murfreesboro, and 
 Bessie had resumed the work at which she had 
 proved so efficient, and in which she tried to for- 
 get some unhappy memories. And thus two aching 
 hearts were caught on the rebound. 
 
 Among Jack's recruits were several escaped Con- 
 federate conscripts who gladly sought enlistment in 
 the Union army. Some of them were soldiers of fort- 
 une, who fought none the less merrily when, as now, 
 they did it with necks in a halter. Others were 
 heartily for the Union, but had joined the Confed- 
 erates under extreme pressure. Of these was his 
 old neighbor, Bill Gossett. No man of Jack's com- 
 mand was more faithful or courageous. 
 
 On this day he was on sentry duty, and noticed 
 
The Heart of Bessie Granger 351 
 
 as he met the sentinel whose beat was next to his, 
 on the other side of the road, that his comrade was 
 tipsy and ugly. Several times he tried to pick a 
 quarrel with Bill, but Bill turned each time at the 
 end of his beat without harsh words. At the other 
 end of his walk, as he turned back, he saw the 
 drunken soldier trying to stop a woman who was 
 endeavoring to make her way through the line. 
 
 " Halt ! " he yelled, " ye cyan't git through 
 without a pass ! " 
 
 " I don't need no pass," said she. " I'm jes' 
 a-goin' to my baby." 
 
 The soldier raised his gun. 
 
 " Halt, or I'll shoot ! " he cried. 
 
 The woman made a rush and went by. 
 
 " Halt ! " he cried again. " I won't tell ye no 
 more ! Halt, or I'll kill ye ! " 
 
 " Don't shoot ! " cried Bill. " Hold on thar ! " 
 
 He ran toward his companion to stop him, but 
 seeing that he was bent on shooting, and would fire 
 before he could reach him, stopped and levelled his 
 own gun. 
 
 " Drop yer gun, you fool, " he cried, " or yer 
 a dead man ! " 
 
 The sentinel looked toward him and then at the 
 fleeing woman, and pulled the trigger. 
 
 There were two reports so near together that they 
 sounded like one. The drunken sentinel fell, shot 
 through the heart, and the woman staggered a few 
 steps and fell in the road. 
 
 With a cry that was terrible to hear Bill rushed 
 to her side. He pushed back the sunbonnet and 
 kissed the face beneath. 
 
3^2 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " Polly ! Oh, God, my wife ! " 
 
 " Help ! " cried Bill. " Get a doctor ! quick ! My 
 wife is shot ! " But there was no camp surgeon 
 attached to Jack's command. A half dozen men 
 came out at the noise of the firing, and looked for 
 a moment helplessly at each other. Then one 
 started on a run to Jack's headquarters. 
 
 Lieutenant Casey was standing before his tent 
 still conversing with Dr. and Mrs. Marshall, when 
 a soldier ran up breathless. 
 
 " Leftenant," he called, " they's a woman shot 
 down here!" There was a man shot, also, but no 
 one thought of that as important then. 
 
 Jack turned to Sam Marshall. 
 
 " I reckon I'll hatter conscript you for a spell," 
 he said. 
 
 " Glad to help," said Sam, taking his pill-bags 
 from his saddle. 
 
 " Let me go, too," said Bessie. " You both know 
 I can help at such times." 
 
 The three hastened to the line together, and Jack 
 gently drew Bill away while the doctor and his wife 
 bent over the wounded woman. 
 
 " Badly wounded," said he, "but she may recover." 
 
 "She's gotter recover!" cried Bill. " Ef they's 
 a God in heaven that's kind and just, my wife hain't 
 a-goin' to die." 
 
 " Don't say that. Bill," said Jack. 
 
 The doctor and his wife were busy a long time 
 dressing the wound. 
 
 " She mustn't be moved for a few days," said he. 
 " Can you set up a tent just inside the lines an' keep 
 her there ? " 
 
The Heart of Bessie Granger 2 53 
 
 A tent was quickly brought and set up, and they 
 moved Mary thither. Bill sat by the cot. At last 
 she opened her eyes. 
 
 " Polly," said he, gently, " d'ye know me ? " 
 
 "Oh, Bill!" she cried faintly; "is this heaven.? 
 Did he kill me ? Whar's the baby ? " 
 
 " The baby's all right, Polly. Yer sister Mar- 
 thy's got him. An' you hain't killed, an' this hain't 
 heaven ; but hit'll be mighty like it when you git 
 well ! " 
 
 Then the doctor came in and said that Bill must 
 come away and let his wife rest. 
 
 "Let me stay. Doc," said Bill. " I won't say nary 
 word." 
 
 " Come away for an hour. You can go back 
 later. My wife will look out for her for a spell." 
 
 So Bill came away with great reluctance. 
 
 " Doc," said he, " hit's a God's blessin' you was 
 here." 
 
 "I hope she'll get well, Bill." 
 
 "They hain't no hope about it. She has obleeged 
 to git well. I'm bound to hev her git well." 
 
 " Well, Bill, I hope so, but she's a mighty sick 
 woman. I'm glad you've got confidence. I'll leave 
 her with you an' Providence." 
 
 " Leave her ! Lookye here, Sam Marshall, you 
 ain't a-goin' ter leave her. No livin' man don't know 
 what I've suffered the las' year. An' now I swar 
 on a stack o' Bibles a mile high I hain't a-goin' ter 
 take no chances on Polly's life. God hain't brung her 
 back ter cheat me outen her now. I'll take my place 
 by the roadside where she fell, an' I swar I won't see 
 ye pass that spot alive till my wife's outer danger." 
 
354 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " Stay, Sam," said Jack. " I'll furnish you a tent 
 an' put up yer beastis, an' send word on home that 
 you're all right. Stay an' doctor Bill's wife an' some 
 sick fellers that I've got here in camp, an' I'll send 
 you on with a escort when you're done." 
 
 " I'm anxious to get through the lines," said Sam. 
 
 "I'll put you through," said Jack. "I'll send 
 you on when you're ready, an' while you stay you 
 shan't be under no restraint." 
 
 " Doc," said Bill, "yer jes' gotter stay." 
 
 " I'll talk with my wife," said Sam. " I reckon I 
 can stay till you can get a surgeon from Knoxville." 
 
 " I can't get none, I reckon," said Jack. 
 
 When Bessie came out of the tent. Jack said, 
 
 " Mis' Bessie, I'm a-goin' to conscript you an' 
 your man for a spell till that woman's better or 
 wuss." 
 
 " I reckon," she replied, " if Sam stays here caring 
 for your wounded as long as you stayed in Murfrees- 
 boro caring for ours, it would be about an even 
 trade, wouldn't it?" 
 
 " I reckon so," said Jack, " an' he shall have as 
 good company as I had there." 
 
 So the Marshalls stayed for a week in camp wi':h 
 Jack, and by that time Mary was out of danger. 
 They rode on then to their home, and Bill was 
 given leave of absence and an ambulance to convey 
 Mary back to the little cabin that had been their 
 home, and was to be again. There her sister came 
 and brought the baby, and there daily rode Dr. and 
 Mrs. Marshall, and Mary grew stronger from visit 
 to visit. 
 
 One day Jack rode out to see them and his old 
 
The Heart of Bessie Granger ^^^ 
 
 friends about home. Bill was holding the baby on 
 his knee, and sitting beside the bed. Mary lay 
 there, pale but happy, the sunbonnet replaced by a 
 little cap that Bessie had made, beneath which was 
 beginning to appear a flaxen tress that reminded Bill 
 of the beautiful hair his wife had worn. 
 
 "Howdy, Bill! Howdy, Polly! You're doin' 
 finely. At this rate I'll soon call Bill back to service. 
 That's a fine boy you got there. Bill. Hello, young 
 feller ! What's your name ? " 
 
 " His name useter be Jefferson Abraham," said 
 Bill, " part for my politics an' part for my wife's. 
 We wasn't sure then how the cat would jump, an' 
 we was sorter like the feller that prayed, good Lord, 
 good devil. But we've changed now. So his name 
 is Abraham Lincoln Jackson Marshall Gossett." 
 
 " Look out or the name will kill him," said Jack. 
 "Who's the Jackson for? Me, or old Hickory? " 
 
 " Both, sorter," said Bill. 
 
 " He's storyin'," said Mary. "Jackson's for you." 
 
 "And the Marshall's for me," said Sam, just 
 then entering with Bessie. 
 
 " Or your wife, one," said Jack. 
 
 " Well, it ain't much odds. And seeing it takes 
 the place o' Jeff Davis, it's a good thing to let the 
 name have just enough rebel to save it." 
 
 " Stop your nonsense," said Bessie, leaning over 
 and kissing the boy. " The rebel part is the only 
 really good part of the name. That is — Abraham 
 Lincoln is all right, and there are worse Yankees 
 than Lieutenant Jackson Casey. But Marshall is 
 the best name of all for this baby. In fact, it's the 
 only one I should want for myself." 
 
XXX 
 
 The Thaw in Nashville 
 
 NO campaign of the Civil War was so pict- 
 uresque, and none has been so widely 
 sung, as Sherman's march to the sea. 
 In its picturesqueness lay a large portion 
 of its military value. When Sherman turned his 
 back on Hood's army, and went south through 
 unprotected territory, carrying out very literally his 
 theory that " War is hell," some one else had to 
 fight Hood.^ Thomas was at Nashville, and his 
 army, comprised of the ragged ends of three corps, 
 was scattered from the Ohio River to Alabama, and 
 from Virginia to Missouri. To gather these to- 
 gether, and make of them a fighting body, was no 
 small task. Especially was this true of the cavalry, 
 which was given into the charge of General Wilson. 
 By the most strenuous exertion the men were 
 gathered together at Nashville, and an efibrt was 
 made to provide them with horses, for many of 
 them had been dismounted in their scattered posts, 
 and others had come by rail, leaving their horses 
 behind them. 
 
 One day in November, 1864, Lieutenant Jack 
 Casey arrived with his band of tatterdemalions from 
 
 ^"Thomas advised [Sherman] against his plan. . . . Grant suggested to 
 him to resume that of following Hood. . . . Lincoln, as he himself said a little 
 later, 'was anxious, if not fearful,' but did not interfere." 
 
 — Cox, "March to the Sea," p. 5. 
 
 356 
 
The Thaw in Nashville 357 
 
 the mountains. To make the command effective, 
 the regiment, which was not full, was doubled by the 
 addition of raw men ; and Jack was given com- 
 mand of a company, with orders to impress horses 
 as best he could, and mount and drill his men. 
 
 Perhaps there was no part of the war which the 
 cavalry enjoyed more thoroughly than that op- 
 portunity of impressing horses. No beast with 
 four legs was safe about Nashville. Farmers reluc- 
 tantly parted with the animals with which they had 
 hoped to plough their fields the coming season, and 
 men of wealth saw the dust gather on their empty 
 carriages. Governor Andrew Johnson's carriage 
 horses were taken, and the street railroads were 
 left without means of operating their cars. 
 
 By rare good fortune. Jack and his crowd struck 
 a town near Nashville, where a circus was in prog- 
 ress. There were a few broken heads among the 
 canvasmen and drivers, but no blood was shed, 
 and in the end Jack's company was all mounted. 
 A long-haired, cadaverous mountaineer secured the 
 trick mule, and rejoiced in the sport which his 
 manifDld misfortunes afforded to his companions. 
 Steph Crowell vv^as at his best, on a wonderfully 
 spotted animal, but mourned after the first rain to 
 find that many of the spots were painted, yet found 
 satisfaction in the fact that the horse was intelligent 
 and strong, and still was as spotted as Joseph's coat. 
 Jack secured a remount in a thoroughbred that 
 could leap hurdles. One or two of the venture- 
 some fellows discussed the question of mounting 
 the elephant and camel, and all made the most of 
 their free admission to the show. 
 
358 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 Wilson succeeded in mounting a considerable 
 cavalry force, and determined to use that arm of 
 the service, as it had not been used in any previous 
 battle of importance, in the main attack, and not 
 simply in skirmishing and flank movements in- 
 tended to cover the operations of infantry. 
 
 On the 30th of November Hood advanced to 
 Franklin, which two years before had been captured 
 by Rosecrans from Bragg, and there met the Union 
 advance. It was a discouraging thought that so 
 long after what had been thought a decisive victory, 
 the same ground should have to be fought over 
 again. As yet, Thomas had not all his force in 
 hand, and had no intention of fighting, but hoped 
 to withdraw his army to Nashville. Hood, also, 
 intended to defer battle till next day, but his officers 
 were smarting under his rebuke for allowing a 
 Union brigade to escape the night before, and were 
 eager to prove their courage. They proved it, poor 
 fellows, for few battles proved so fatal to officers as 
 Franklin. Twelve Confederate generals and many 
 colonels were killed or wounded there. 
 
 At four o'clock, most unexpectedly, the battle be- 
 gan. The line of battle was short, and the heavy 
 fighting was confined within a small area, in the centre 
 of which was a house occupied by a family named 
 Carter. The family consisted of an aged man and 
 his daughters, with a son who was a paroled Con- 
 federate soldier. There was another son, a Confed- 
 erate officer somewhere in the army, — they knew 
 not where. They were assured that there would be 
 no battle that day, when suddenly the firing began, 
 and they were imprisoned in the house in the very 
 
The Thaw in Nashville 359 
 
 focus of the fight. After an hour of fighting the 
 cloud of sulphurous smoke obscured the light so as 
 to seem like an eclipse. For some time still the firing 
 continued, and then, as at a signal, both sides ceased. 
 The silence that ensued was uncanny and fear-op- 
 pressing. In that silence, because of the unnatural 
 dark, the cries of the wounded that lay between the 
 armies were terrible to hear. 
 
 The battle was soon renewed. The first advan- 
 tage had been on the side of the Confederates, and 
 in the uncertain light they supposed it greater than 
 it really was. They rushed forward again and again. 
 They continued the fight long after dark. On 
 both sides men fired at the flash of each other's 
 guns, yet sometimes lay down and were safe within 
 reach of each other's bayonets. Two Confederate 
 soldiers made a safe and cosy nest for themselves 
 in the asparagus bed beside the Carter smoke house 
 where they could have shaken hands with the 
 Union soldiers in the trench at the end of it. 
 When morning came, after a night of dread and 
 constant danger, the Carter girls found their brother, 
 the young officer, in the trench behind the house, 
 mortally wounded. There he had lain helpless 
 through the night, almost at the door of the home 
 where he was born. 
 
 The Union army fell back under cover of the 
 night, and went into its intrenchments at Nashville, 
 and Hood moved north and beset the city, making 
 his siegeworks strong. Thomas continued strength- 
 ening his position ; but as Thomas already had 
 intrenchments, it seemed that all the advantage of 
 delay was on the side of Hood. General Grant 
 
360 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 began telegraphing Thomas to move out and fight 
 Hood, but Thomas waited to increase his force of 
 mounted men. After a week's delay, the weather 
 suddenly turned cold ; rain fell, freezing as it struck 
 the earth, and the ground was a sheet of ice. 
 Thomas was still more reluctant to move ; and to 
 Grant's repeated orders he replied that he would 
 move when conditions permitted. 
 
 After nearly two weeks of delay. General Thomas 
 called a meeting of his generals, and asked their 
 advice about attacking the Confederates. He laid 
 before them the urgent despatches of the Secretary 
 of War and telegrams received daily, and some- 
 times twice a day, from General Grant, at first advis- 
 ing, and later commanding, him to move, and finally 
 threatening him with removal from his position if 
 he did not start at once. 
 
 "What is your opinion, gentlemen? " asked Gen- 
 eral Thomas. 
 
 In such councils the lowest officer usually speaks 
 first. But General Schofield, who stood next to 
 Thomas, and would naturally have succeeded him 
 in case of Thomas' removal, first spoke his own con- 
 viction, that General Thomas was right. This chival- 
 rous act of Schofield impressed the whole council. 
 
 " What do you think. General Wilson ? Can 
 your cavalry stand on this ice ? " 
 
 " General Thomas," said Wilson, " I would not 
 start till there is a thaw, no matter who commands it. 
 If I had my men dismounted behind Hood's present 
 intrenchments, and had to repel an advance over 
 this ice, I would guarantee to do it if my men were 
 armed with nothing more than a basket of bricks." 
 
The Thaw in Nashville 361 
 
 "Judging from the way they got their horses, I 
 think that your men might be trusted to provide 
 themselves with bricks," said Thomas. 
 
 " Or make them, with or without straw," said 
 General McArthur. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said Thomas, " I am willing to 
 move when we can move and win. I am willing to 
 resign my command, if that is desired. But so long 
 as I am in command, I cannot sacrifice brave lives 
 without prospect of success. I am weary Vv'aiting for 
 a thaw, but it cannot long delay in this climate. As 
 soon as that comes, we will move with vigor, and 
 when we move, we will win." So Thomas waited 
 for five days more. As at Chickamauga he tele- 
 graphed " I will stay till I starve," and won the 
 title " The Rock of Chickamauga," so now under cir- 
 cumstances not less trying he proved immovable. 
 
 General Grant meant what he said, and followed 
 his last telegram with orders to General Logan to 
 hasten to Nashville and succeed Thomas. Then, 
 becoming still more nervous, he started to command 
 the troops at Nashville in person. Logan had got 
 as far as Louisville, and Grant as far as Washington, 
 when there came a thaw. 
 
 In a dense fog, early in the morning of the 15th 
 of December, the cavalry under General Wilson 
 moved through Nashville, and around to the right, 
 to fall upon the Confederate left, while the infantry 
 advanced in a smaller and parallel arc. When the 
 fog lifted at nine o'clock, it was an inspiring sight 
 that the watchers saw from Nashville. The cavalry 
 had made their wide detour, and were tethering their 
 horses to charge on foot ; and the rush was majestic 
 
362 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 and irresistible. The rebels had been saying that 
 the Yankees had brought their weather with them. 
 This day burst forth from the fog into sudden sun- 
 shine, and there was fighting hot enough for the 
 warmest-blooded Southerner. 
 
 By noon the infantry had driven the Confederate 
 right from its position, and the cavalry had over- 
 lapped it, using their horses for advances and fight- 
 ing on foot. 
 
 At one time when the cavalry were fighting at a 
 distance from their horses, a sudden dash of the 
 Confederates upon their exposed front drove them 
 back in some confusion. It was only for a few 
 minutes, but it nearly resulted in the capture of 
 Captain Casey. Jack had gotten deeply into mud, 
 and in the retreat was almost overtaken by the 
 enemy as he was in the act of climbing a stone wall. 
 At that moment Bill Gossett looking back saw him, 
 and with Steph Crowell rushed to his relief In a 
 deadly fire they ran, pulled him over the wall, and 
 helping him by both arms, ran with him back to 
 their companions and horses. Then they mounted 
 and charged again. While the cavalry moved, the 
 infantry supported every advance, and the Confeder- 
 ates were mown back as by the swing of a mighty 
 scythe. 
 
 Nothing could have been finer than the deliberate 
 but resistless dash of the cavalry, unless it was the 
 splendid charge of Post's brigade up the slope of 
 Montgomery Hill, with its colonel at its head. 
 Montgomery Hill was to Nashville what Round Top 
 was to Gettysburg, and the capture of that eminence 
 completed the movement on the right. 
 
The Thaw in Nashville ^^3 
 
 Then came the dash for the centre, which was 
 undertaken by General Wood, who protested that 
 it was suicide, but who went in as though success 
 were certain, as indeed it proved. Perhaps in no 
 great battle of the war, except Missionary Ridge, was 
 the whole panorama of the fight in so full view ; and 
 Thomas watched from the city the progress of every 
 movement. The fight was stubborn everywhere ; 
 but the result was the same on all sides. The ex- 
 ample of the cavalry in the early morning on the 
 right became the inspiration of each succeeding 
 movement, and when night set in the Confederates 
 had been driven two miles. But they threw up in- 
 trenchments during the night, and found the position 
 into which they had been driven, though much less 
 favorable for offensive action, even more advan- 
 tageous for defence than that which they had aban- 
 doned. So both sides bivouacked on the field. 
 
 The morning of the second day saw little fighting, 
 as both sides were moving for positions and erecting 
 temporary fortifications. The rebels had made good 
 use of the night in rearing or occupying stone 
 walls, with head-logs above, and the hills which they 
 had taken were steep and easily defensible. The 
 gallant Colonel Post opened the battle with another 
 splendid charge, on Overton's Hill, such as the day 
 before had resulted in the capture of Montgomery 
 Hill, the cavalry still swinging outward from the 
 right. He led his three regiments, one of which 
 was a new regiment of brave colored men, to the 
 very breastworks, and the men fought with great 
 courage; but at the critical moment Post fell, the 
 colored regiment broke under the terrible fire, and 
 
364 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 the movement failed with a loss of five hundred 
 men. 
 
 The thaw had come, indeed, and now it was diffi- 
 cult to move across the ploughed fields that were 
 sticky with mud. But the cavalry wheeled still 
 further, and secured in succession all save one of 
 the pikes by which Hood had approached the city, 
 and by which he must retreat. Then, leaving their 
 horses, with incredible toil they dragged two capt- 
 ured guns through the mud and up a hill to the 
 rear of the Confederate position. Just as this was 
 accomplished in the rear. General McArthur in the 
 front sent word that, unless forbidden, he proposed 
 to order a charge up Overton's Hill, now the key 
 to the Confederate position. It seemed a great risk, 
 but consent was not withheld. McArthur selected 
 McMillen's brigade, which had seen service in many 
 campaigns, and knew its leaders and its duty. With 
 fixed bayonets, and without shot or cheer, they 
 emerged from their intrenchments and went up the 
 slope. Unlike new men, they scattered as they 
 ascended, and their loss, though heavy, was greatly 
 lessened, and no loss dismayed them. Jack's com- 
 pany was just panting up the hill behind, and the 
 guns were slowly coming up through the mud, when 
 he discovered McMillen's infantry silently but re- 
 sistlessly ascending Overton's Hill. 
 
 " Hurry up them guns ! " he shouted. Another 
 pull at the ropes by panting men and the guns were 
 brought to the summit, their wheels solid with mud. 
 A moment, and they began to belch their fire and 
 pour their shot into the midst of the Confederates. 
 The rebels looked from the charge in front, to find 
 
The Thaw in Nashville 365 
 
 themselves assailed in the rear. With despairing 
 energy they turned their faces again to the slope, 
 up which with majestic sweep the Union troops 
 were moving, and hopelessly emptied their guns 
 among them. It was useless. The wavy, scattered 
 line seemed proof against their balls. There was a 
 struggle at the breastwork, a hand-to-hand grapple, 
 and then the Confederate flag came down, the 
 Stars and Stripes went up, a mighty cheer arose, 
 and the Confederates broke and fled. 
 
 General Wilson gathered his cavalry again and 
 serft them in pursuit. Long after night had fallen 
 they followed the enemy down the pike, until it 
 grew too dark to discern friend from foe, and the 
 pursuers mingled with the pursued. 
 
 Riding through the woods. Jack got separated 
 from his men, and in the darkness rode sud- 
 denly against another mounted man. Their horses 
 stopped, and the men's knees touched. Each raised 
 his sabre ready for a blow. 
 
 " Hold on ! " cried Jack. " Let's not strike till 
 we both know who we be. Be you Yank or reb ^ " 
 
 " Reb," said the other. " Who be you ? " 
 
 "Yank," said Jack. 
 
 They paused, and each one's pause might have 
 been fatal; but for some reason, neither could tell 
 why, they did not strike. 
 
 " Look here, Yank," said the rebel, " I reckon 
 ef we should fight here in the dark the chances 
 would be about even, don't you?" 
 
 " I reckon they would," said Jack. 
 
 " Like's not we'd both git killed," he continued. 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder." 
 
^66 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 "Yank, I'll resk my sheer ef you say so, but this 
 sorter killin' don't seem ter me jes' like fightin' In 
 the field. I got a wife an' three babies to hum, an' 
 I don't see no need o' goin' to kingdom come an' 
 leavin' them to some other man to support, an' I'm 
 afeard you wouldn't do it ef you was to kill me. 
 Now, when I swap, and can't quite come ter terms 
 on a bargain, I think hit's a mighty mean man that 
 won't split the difference. What d'ye say, Yank ? 
 Shall we fight, or split the difference ? " 
 
 " Less split the difference," said Jack. And they 
 both rode away. 
 
 Thus was won the important victory of Nashville, 
 that saved the North from its last threatened inva- 
 sion. It was another Gettysburg. While Sherman 
 and his host were marching through Georgia with 
 terror in their front and ashes in their rear, making 
 a desert sixty miles in width from Atlanta to the 
 sea. Hood's army was shattered in his rear. Sher- 
 man's success on that march, though multiplied by 
 a score, would have been more than counterbalanced 
 by a failure to conquer Hood. It would have been 
 as pleasant for Hood to march from Cincinnati to 
 the lakes, as for Sherman to march from Atlanta to 
 the sea, and the march would have been quite as 
 picturesque, and the cities quite as combustible. 
 
 General Logan heard the news at Louisville, and 
 buttoned in his pocket the orders to relieve Thomas. 
 General Grant heard the news in Washington, and 
 went back to his fighting on the line that had taken 
 all summer, and was to take the winter. And the 
 wreck of Hood's splendid army drifted south, and 
 came north again no more. 
 
XXXI 
 
 How Jack Met the Enemy 
 
 IMMEDIATELY after the battle of Nashville 
 Jack's command was hurried back into East 
 Tennessee, and his company was attached to one 
 of the regiments of the " Governor's Guard," 
 then under command of General Alvan C. Gillem. 
 This guard was not responsible to the military au- 
 thorities, but received its orders from self-willed 
 Andrew Johnson, who, besides being Military Gov- 
 ernor, held also the rank of General. His troops 
 had just suffered a severe defeat at the hands of 
 General Breckinridge, who made a raid through the 
 mountains while Thomas was fighting at Franklin, 
 and defeated Gillem. Thomas believed the defeat 
 to have been caused by Johnson's assumption of 
 authority over this brigade, and the time was gladly 
 looked forward to when Johnson, having been elected 
 Vice President, would be in Washington, and the 
 military affairs of the State could be managed with- 
 out so much interference. General Gillem proved 
 an able officer, and the ability which he displayed after 
 the Rebellion, in fighting the desperate Indian mur- 
 derer, " Captain Jack," and his band of bloodthirsty 
 Modocs in the lava beds of California, he acquired 
 in part in East Tennessee ; for a part of the force 
 which he there opposed consisted of North Carolina 
 Indians employed by the Confederate government. 
 
 367 
 
368 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 Before Jack arrived, Gillem had retrieved himself 
 by a raid upon the salt works in western Virginia, 
 had broken the kettles, filled the drilled wells, one 
 Jiundred and sixty feet deep, with twelve-pound 
 shells and railroad iron, and so devastated the 
 country as to make himself secure against further 
 raids from that quarter. 
 
 Since the battle of Nashville Jack had gone by 
 his brevet rank of captain. He enjoyed leadership, 
 and his men respected him. But his heart ached 
 when he reflected to what the war had degenerated. 
 The marks of its wicked work were plain in the lives 
 of many of his men. There was much necessity of 
 sending out small bands to kill or capture desperate 
 men, and for this work men were often selected who 
 knew the ones they pursued. Thus it sometimes 
 happened that soldiers would lie concealed near the 
 homes of their old neighbors who had become gueril- 
 las, and shoot them on their own door-steps as they 
 attempted to enter their homes. It was war, no 
 doubt, but to Jack it seemed like murder. Already 
 there was apparent the spirit which continues to this 
 day in some mountain counties, and manifests itself 
 in the deadly feuds that now and again break forth. 
 All these, and many other evils, did the war 
 bequeath to these communities ; for while the war 
 settled one problem, it precipitated twenty. 
 
 Jack had not seen his mother or Jennie or Cub 
 for many months ; but he saw his old home now 
 and then, and several times called on the Hansons 
 and the Marshalls. He had a frank talk with Bes- 
 sie and told her what she did not already know of 
 his story, including his love for Jennie. Bessie ex- 
 
How Jack Met the Enemy 369 
 
 pressed great interest in Jack's sweetheart, of whom 
 she had already heard from Sam, and was sure that 
 she and Jennie would be good friends. Jack hoped 
 so, but he had a feeling of discomfort which he was 
 ashamed to confess. He wondered how Jennie 
 would appear in the eyes of Bessie, nay, though 
 this he never admitted even to himself, he wondered 
 how she would appear to him after having known 
 Bessie. He could not bear that Jennie should 
 suffer by comparison, or seem uncouth in Bessie's 
 sight or presence. 
 
 One day while Jack was pursuing a small band 
 of guerillas beyond Bull's Gap, at the head of a 
 score of men, they suddenly found themselves sur- 
 rounded by a superior force of Confederate cavalry 
 belonging to the force of General Martin, then sta- 
 tioned near Asheville, in the mountains of North 
 Carolina. There was a short, sharp fight. Two 
 of Jack's men were killed and five were wounded. 
 Jack was knocked from his horse by a partly par- 
 ried sabre-stroke, and when he recovered conscious- 
 ness, five minutes later, half his command were pris- 
 oners with himself and the rest had fled. 
 
 Jack's wound did not prove serious, though the 
 blood flowed freely and his head ached severely. 
 He was soon mounted again and disarmed. Two 
 of his most badly wounded men were left at the 
 nearest house, and the remaining seven, of whom 
 three were slightly wounded, were placed on their 
 horses and started on. 
 
 It was hazardous, indeed, for so small a body of 
 men to be on a raid so far from home, but both 
 armies had come to take desperate chances, which 
 
37© A Hero in Homespun 
 
 the roughness of the country favored. Martin's 
 army by this time had in it many companies which 
 rode afar and did a considerable amount of their 
 fighting half on their own account. They were in 
 no haste to turn back till toward night, but bore 
 northward and toward the Holston. Jack knew 
 the way well. A few miles further, and they would 
 pass Sam Marshall's. Six miles across the river, 
 still beyond, was his own home. It was a bitter 
 thought that he would be marched, a prisoner, past 
 the houses of his friends, and perhaps past the door 
 of the house where he had been born, but the 
 thought had in it a gleam of hope. 
 
 " Captain," he said to the commander of the 
 rebels, as they rode on, " the second house on 
 the left they's a doctor that's treated some o' my 
 men. He uster be a Confederate surgeon. I 
 wisht you'd stop there a minute and let him tie up 
 my head. It aches fit to kill. Some o' these other 
 men, too, needs lookin' after a little." 
 
 The suggestion was accepted by the captain, who 
 had two wounded men of his own ; so they stopped 
 at the door of Dr. Marshall. 
 
 " Doctor," said Jack, hastening to forestall any 
 sign of more intimate relation between them, " I 
 reckon you remember me. You've doctored some 
 o' my men." 
 
 Sam started so that Jack was alarmed, but recov- 
 ering himself said, "'Pears like I remember you. 
 Captain — ? " 
 
 "Casey," said Jack. "I'm wounded, and so's 
 some o' these other men, and we'd sorter like to have 
 you patch us up so's we can ride on." 
 
How Jack Met the Enemy 371 
 
 "An' don't ye be long about it, nuther," said the 
 Confederate captain. " Hit'll be night right soon 
 now." 
 
 " Fetch your wounded men in," said Sam. " I'll 
 do the best I can for 'em." 
 
 Sam stepped into the other room to get his in- 
 struments. Calling Bessie aside he whispered hastily, 
 "Jack Casey's a prisoner. They'll ride across an* 
 back towards V'ginny. I'll keep 'em here as long's 
 I can. You hurry ahead an' warn his friends to 
 find some way to capture him back come night." 
 
 No other word of recognition passed between 
 Jack and Sam. There was no opportunity for con- 
 ference, no chance of escape that suggested itself. 
 But, unknown to Jack, while Sam was binding up 
 his head, Bessie was saddling a horse in the barn and 
 riding by a roundabout way toward the Hansons'. 
 She tried to think what to do, whom to tell. There 
 were so few men. There was so little that could be 
 done. She did not want to cause a fight. She knew 
 that her husband could not fight on either side. 
 What was done must be done by strategy. It was 
 hardly worth while to tell any one here. The sol- 
 diers, if they crossed the river, as they were about 
 to do, would pass the Hanson house a half dozen 
 miles away, and it would be toward night when they 
 arrived there. She would hasten on there and 
 together they would form a plan. But before she 
 came to the Hanson house she passed Jack's old 
 home. It was closed now, and had been for two 
 years, and things looked desolate enough about it. 
 But stay, there was smoke issuing from the chimney. 
 The door was open. What could it mean ? She 
 
372 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 gathered her reins to hasten by, but a sudden thought 
 came, and she turned toward the house. 
 
 An hour later the Confederate soldiers with their 
 prisoners came down the road. Jack's head was 
 bound up with needless care, and the doctor had 
 given him many words of caution in the hearing of 
 the captain, making the wound seem fully as serious 
 as it was, and had warned him against too hard 
 riding. Jack looked out from beneath his bandages 
 at the home of his childhood. Dreary as were its 
 surroundings just then, its roof had never looked so 
 inviting a shelter as it did that day. The short day 
 was drawing to a close. They would ride, he felt 
 sure, all night ; for the captain well knew that the 
 escaped soldiers would bring after him a much larger 
 force by the break of day. It was hard lines riding 
 past one's own door, wounded and a prisoner. And 
 his mother, it would be long before she would know. 
 Jack gave a yearning look at the house as he ap- 
 proached it. Then he rubbed his eyes and looked 
 again. It could not be ! And yet it was so ! The 
 smoke was curling lightly from the chimney, the 
 door was ajar, and there at the fence, where she had 
 stood the day he left for the war, was his mother ! 
 Before he had time to think twice, Jennie Whitley 
 came from the house with a panful of hot corn pones. 
 
 " Howdy," said Mrs. Casey, addressing the cap- 
 tain. " Heerd you was comin', an' reckoned you'd 
 think it was 'bout supper time." 
 
 " Howdy, mam," said the captain. " You're 
 mighty good. I hain't had no sech kindness afore 
 fur many's the day. You mus' be Confed'rate ? " 
 
How Jack Met the Enemy 373 
 
 " Don't ye ast me no questions an' I won't tell 
 ye no lies. But I've fed more'n one rebel afore, an' 
 more'n one Yank, too. Ef ye wanter talk politics, 
 ye ken jes' go on. But ef ye want some good hot 
 corn dodgers, thar they be, an' they's more in the 
 oven bakin' an' some hoe cakes on the griddle." 
 
 " We hain't got time to stop fur them that hain't 
 baked, but I'm mighty glad to take what you got 
 baked." 
 
 " 'Twon't be long till I'll have some more. I 
 want 'em to go 'round ef I feed any on ye. Got 
 some wounded men, hain't ye ? Ye best let them 
 git down an' rest while the balance on ye eat. Don' 
 you alls want to go in an' lie down a spell while 
 these men eats a snack?" 
 
 " I'd like it mighty well," said Jack. " My 
 head aches right smart. I don't want nothin' to 
 eat, but I'd like to rest." 
 
 "We cyan't stop long," said the captain; "but 
 you men that's wounded mought go in an' lay down 
 about a minute. I reckon we won't lose no time 
 in the end ef you rest." 
 
 The men who had tasted the corn pones 
 wanted more, and those who had had none were 
 eager for a share. Elizabeth knew well that if she 
 got them halted, they would not get away for a good 
 half hour, and meantime it was growing dark. The 
 two wounded Confederates went in with Jack, and 
 one also of his own men. The others were less 
 severely injured, and did not care to lie down. A 
 half dozen soldiers carelessly guarded the doors, 
 and ate the hoe cakes which the women gave them. 
 The two wounded Confederates threw themselves 
 
374 -^ Hero in Homespun 
 
 across the bed in the living room, and the Union 
 soldier sat in a chair by the fire. Jack entered the 
 room, and there was Bessie at the bake-oven. 
 
 Jennie followed the wounded men into the house 
 and said to Jack, " You'd best lie down on the bed 
 in the loft. I'll go up an' see if everythin's ready." 
 
 Jack climbed to the loft and she followed him. 
 
 " Get off yer does," she whispered, " an' git 
 inter bed. Be ready to put on yer mother's does 
 when she comes. You'll hatter give her that band- 
 age, too ! " 
 
 She hastened down, and Jack quickly obeyed. 
 He could hear his mother and the younger women 
 below talking cheerfully with the soldiers, and foiling 
 every suggestion that they must go on, with prom- 
 ises of more corn bread. And what with the Dutch 
 oven baking pones, and the two griddles making 
 hoe cakes, there were always some nearly done. 
 The girls chatted and laughed with the soldiers 
 about the door, and they were neither very vigilant 
 nor in haste to go. And the dark came on apace. 
 A half hour had passed, and all the men were fed. 
 Then the captain called for the wounded men to 
 come out. Bessie and Jennie helped the three 
 below to mount, while Elizabeth ascended " to see 
 how the pore feller above was gittin' on." A 
 moment, and she had removed her dress, and in 
 another she was dressed in Jack's trousers and coat, 
 and was wrapping her face with the bloody bandage. 
 Jack meantime had gotten into her dress, and was 
 tying her sunbonnet over his face. Then they 
 descended the ladder together. The girls at the 
 door diverted the attention of the soldiers, starting 
 
How Jack Met the Enemy 375 
 
 toward the fence and drawing after them the already 
 mounted guards, while Jack helped his mother to 
 mount, and they rode away in the gathering dusk. 
 
 Jack stood with the girls at the door and watched 
 the procession ride off. There was no suspicion of 
 a ruse, and no investigation. The captain was in 
 haste to gain a few miles before complete darkness 
 fell. Soon they were out of sight, and Jack knew 
 that if they could go a half dozen miles before they 
 found their mistake, they would never think of 
 returning. Then Jack turned to Jennie. " How 
 did you come here? " he asked. 
 
 " We come yistiddy," said Jennie. " Your ma 
 wanted to look atter some things she left here, an' 
 she'd got anxious not hearin' from you in so long. 
 So the corn was all husked an' the way was safe, 
 we reckoned, an' we leP Cub with the neighbors an' 
 come over." 
 
 " And to her, young man, you owe your escape," 
 said Bessie. " The plan was Jennie's. I couldn't 
 think what to do, and she thought it all out. She 
 offered to be the one to take the ride, but your 
 mother insisted that it was best she should go 
 instead. But the credit of it belongs to Jennie. 
 You ought to love her with all your heart." 
 
 " I do," said Jack, fervently. " I do love you, 
 Jennie ! God bless ye ! " Bessie had taken Jennie's 
 hand, and now took Jack's and put them in each 
 other's, and Jack drew Jennie to him. 
 
 A half hour later Dr. Sam Marshall came over in 
 haste with a half dozen neighbors whom he had 
 collected. He waited only long enough to applaud 
 the scheme, and to command Jack to go to bed. 
 
376 A Hero in Flomespun 
 
 and then he rode on with the men to meet Mrs. 
 Casey. The rest waited in anxiety, but without much 
 fear. It was toward morning when they returned, 
 and Mrs, Casey was in high glee over her success. 
 The exchange of prisoners had not been discovered, 
 when, about midnight, the captain ordered a halt for 
 rest. Then she rode up to him and said, " Cap'n, 
 ef you don' mind, I b'Ueve I'll go back now." 
 
 The captain was too much surprised to speak. 
 
 " That was my boy. Captain, that wounded 
 officer. I reckon I kin keer fur him better' n you 
 kin. An' you hain't got no use fur me. I'm only 
 a pore ole woman." 
 
 The captain started to swear, and then changed 
 his oath to a laugh. " You fooled us mighty nice," 
 he said. " An' that hoe cake did taste mighty 
 good. Your boy, was he ? Wall, I don't blame 
 ye. I only wish that I dast let some o' my men go 
 back. I'd send ye under escort." 
 
 But her escort met her a few miles back, and 
 conducted her home with triumph, and the dawn 
 broke on a happy household. 
 
 The Marshalls waited till daylight and for break- 
 fast before leaving. 
 
 " I got enough left fur breakfast," said Elizabeth, 
 cheerfully. " I had jus' laid in a week's supply 
 from the Hansons. I 'low I'll hatter go over agin 
 afore dinner. I didn't look fur so much company." 
 
 " You always treat folks well. Mis' Casey," said 
 Sam. " You've fed me here afore, you remember." 
 
 " Yes, I thought o' that first thing when you an' 
 the men met me this mornin'. I reckon ye don' 
 bear me no gredge fur talkin' about shootin' ye ? " 
 
How Jack Met the Enemy 377 
 
 " Nary bit, I'd druther not look inter the bar'l 
 of a gun in your hands agin, though." 
 
 " To think," said Bessie, "that Sam should helped 
 bring Mrs. Casey back, and Jennie and 1 should 
 have shared in rescuing Jack. But Jennie deserves 
 the credit of the plan." 
 
 "She deserves credit for a heap more," said Mrs. 
 Casey. " Did ye hear, Jack, about her capturin' 
 eleven men ? " 
 
 "No," said Jack, "but I could believe it. I 
 know she's made one prisoner — that's me. How 
 was It : 
 
 " You needn't never want to break away," said 
 his mother. " It was when Kirby Smith was re- 
 treatin' from Kaintuck. We hadn't no warnin' the 
 rebels was a-goin' no more'n we had that they was 
 a-comin'. I was up at Galloway's, nussin' little Bill 
 that had the fever, an' Jennie was alone. There 
 come a squad o' eleven rebels down the road about 
 an hour b' sun, an' come in an' tuck possession. 
 They run down the chickens, an' killed seven on 
 'em, an' ordered her to cook 'em." 
 
 " You needn't tell about that, mother," said 
 Jennie. 
 
 " Yes, tell it. We all want to hear," said Bessie. 
 
 " Sartin I'll tell it, fur it's Gospel truth. Jennie 
 told 'em to go inter the room an' se' down, an' 
 she'd cook 'em supper. While she was a-cookin', 
 they ripped up the new hit-an'-miss carpet for horse 
 blankets." 
 
 " That was what made me the maddest," inter- 
 rupted Jennie. " Atter sewin' all them rags, an' 
 mother a-weavin' of it — twenty-eight yards of it ! " 
 
378 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " They'd stacked their guns by the door that leads 
 inter the kitchen," continued Mrs. Casey, " an' when 
 Jennie took them in their supper, an' got 'em all to 
 eatin', she'd keep passin' through with somethin' or 
 nother, an' as she went back every time she'd take a 
 gun, an' putt it in the kitchen, till she'd packed all 
 but two on 'em away. Then she tuck one gun, an' 
 pinted it at 'em, an' ordered 'em all to surrender. 
 One man jumped at her, an' she shot him through 
 the shoulder, an' then grabbed the other gun. The 
 rest didn't follow, but all kep' still, an' she gyarded 
 'em till I got home. Then we both stood gyard 
 over 'em till mornin', an' then we marched 'em up 
 to Cap'n Ben Bailey's, an' he an' some o' the home 
 gyards tuck 'em to Cap'n Bright of the 23d Kain- 
 tucky that was campin' over towards Wild Cat. 
 We kep' the horses in the Holler. We've got 
 two of 'em — the two we rode here. The cap'n 
 said she was the pluckiest girl in Kaintuck." 
 
 " So she is," said Jack. " And Sam, how does it 
 feel to be on the side o' the Union ? " 
 
 Sam's dark face flushed just a trifle. Then he 
 said, " I b'lieve the South had a right to secede as 
 much as ever I did. But I b'lieve we was fools for 
 doin' it. I ain't a-goin' to fight ary side now, but 
 the sooner it's over, the better." 
 
 " The end is a long time a-comin'," said Jack ; 
 " but they's just one way for it to end." 
 
 " You're right," said Sam, " we're outnumbered. 
 We've got no show. The North has more men 
 than we, without takin' a man from north o' 
 Mason and Dixon's line." 
 
 " What d'ye mean ? " asked Jack. 
 
How Jack Met the Enemy 379 
 
 " I mean the furriners in the Yankee army, an' 
 the Southern men, black an' white, make a bigger 
 army than the hull rebel army. Man for man, the 
 South has got the best army, an' we've showed the 
 best generalship over an' over. But it's got to end 
 sometime." 
 
 " I wisht it would hurry up and end," said Jennie. 
 
 "And so do I," said Bessie; "but it makes me 
 sad to think of our poor Confederacy. But see, 
 Sam, it is light, and we must go." 
 
XXXII 
 
 The Last Fight 
 
 WE see some things more plainly at a 
 distance. It is now apparent that the 
 Confederacy was doomed from the day 
 that Grant captured Vicksburg on the 
 Mississippi, and Lee's heroic army fell back from 
 Gettysburg; and that the 4th of July, 1863, gave 
 the country a new and perpetual reason for the 
 celebration of the national holiday. But that fact 
 was not so plain at the time. To the end of 1864 
 it was uncertain to thousands how the war would 
 terminate. The Knights of the Golden Circle were 
 strong at the north. Two peace movements — one 
 led by Horace Greeley, and one involving direct 
 conference with Jefferson Davis, and between Presi- 
 dent Lincoln and Alexander H. Stephens — had but 
 recently been concluded, with no readiness on the 
 part of the South to concede the victory. A 
 powerful political party affirmed that the war had 
 been a failure, — a statement often quoted for par- 
 tisan effect, but which deserves attention now for its 
 historic value only. The repeated calls for troops 
 had become burdensome. There was determined 
 opposition to the draft. President Lincoln at one 
 time shortly before the election expected to be 
 defeated. Thousands of sore and weary hearts 
 were praying for the war to cease before the plough 
 
 380 
 
The Last Fight 381 
 
 to which the Government had put its hand, and from 
 which it could not look back, should have driven its 
 hot share deeper into the quivering, bleeding heart 
 of the nation. To many, after four years of fight- 
 ing, the end seemed much farther away than it did 
 at the beginning, when ninety days' enlistments were 
 considered ample. 
 
 This inability to discern the approaching end of 
 the struggle was particularly true in the mountains. 
 There was no outlook. There was only the grim 
 reality, the poverty, the bloodshed, the march and 
 countermarch, the interminable chess-play and see- 
 saw of moving bodies of men, and the sorrow that 
 reached in time its limit of suffering. Not till the 
 very end of the war were these people relieved, for 
 whom the first movement under Nelson was under- 
 taken in 1 86 1. When the armies went the bands 
 of marauders were, if anything, worse, and when the 
 Union army came it was a comfort, but also a sore 
 trial. 
 
 Jack's wound proved not to be troublesome. He 
 remained at his old home a fortnight with his 
 mother and Jennie, and the Marshalls came over 
 every day. There was genuine love-making now, 
 between Jack and Jennie, and Sam and Bessie gave 
 appreciated but needless aid and encouragement. 
 Jack found that Jennie seemed more lovely and 
 sweet, even beside Bessie Marshall ; and Bessie and 
 Jennie became the warmest friends from the start. 
 
 It was with a sinking of heart, then, that Jack 
 went back to duty. The war had grown irksome. 
 He hated the raiding and wanton destruction of 
 property and life which had now become its main 
 
382 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 occupation. He longed to see the end of it and be 
 with Jennie and his mother and Cub. So it was 
 with little relish that he heard the call for " boots 
 and saddles" one day in March, 1865. General 
 Stoneman had ordered General Gillem to advance 
 into Virginia and North Carolina. So, ride they 
 must, and did. They rode to Morristown, where 
 each man received five days' rations and four horse- 
 shoes, and then they took the road. 
 
 Gillem advanced along the line of the railroad, 
 tearing up the track, meeting only small bodies of 
 Confederates and easily defeating them all. He 
 met nearly as many deserters as soldiers, and the 
 soldiers captured were paroled on the field. Up 
 into Virginia, almost to Lynchburg, his men con- 
 tinued on their tour of destruction, then turned 
 south into the Old North State. 
 
 On the 2d of April they crossed the Yadkin. 
 From here on the camp was thronged with colored 
 refugees. There are few negroes in the mountains, 
 and it was a novel sight to most of the soldiers to 
 see them in such swarms. 
 
 The colored men were jubilant over their new- 
 found freedom. At night they would sing in camp : 
 
 "Wake up, snakes, pelicans, and 'sesh'ners ! 
 Don' yer hear 'um comin', 
 Comin' on de run ? 
 Wake up, I tell yer ! Sit up, Jefferson ! 
 Bobolishion's comin', 
 Bob-o-lish-i-on ! " 
 
 The soldiers were cheered by the songs and con- 
 tagious vivacity of the jubilant freedmen, but found 
 
The Last Fight 383 
 
 them in their way when they came to march. They 
 were a menace, also, in case of an attack, and the 
 soldiers needed all their rations. So they sent the 
 freedmen across the mountains, well guarded, into 
 East Tennessee, where many of them were promptly 
 enlisted in the Union army. 
 
 At Greensboro, to which place Jefferson Davis was 
 following them, there to establish for a few days the 
 ghost of the Confederate government, they met with 
 little resistance, but destroyed large quantities of 
 stores. It was pathetic to see the joy of the people 
 at the sight of the flag. Even on such a crusade of 
 destruction, they welcomed it, where Jefferson Davis, 
 fleeing south just behind it, was received a few days 
 later with cold indifference. 
 
 At Salisbury, Statesville, Mocksville, and Lenoir 
 they repeated their programme — a resistless dash 
 that bore down the faint opposition, and then the 
 destruction of railroads, factories, and all public, 
 besides not a little private, property. 
 
 At Charlotte, where the fugitive President of the 
 Confederacy still was hard behind them, finding for 
 himself and escort only one hospitable roof, they 
 destroyed thousands of arms, 1 15,000,000 of Con- 
 federate money, and medical stores that had cost 
 1 1 00,000 in gold and were needed by both armies ; 
 and the pity of it was, that, had they known it, the 
 war was already over. But they rode on, knowing 
 only that there was still fighting and destruction 
 before them, and turned to attack the force of Gen- 
 eral Martin at Asheville. 
 
 Martin was supposed to have three thousand 
 men, but on March loth he could find only one 
 
384 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 thousand seven hundred and forty-five of them. 
 They had had no pay for nineteen months. They 
 were in rags, and, while just now they had food, 
 there were times when they had been near to starv- 
 ing. The Confederates saw more plainly than the 
 Union soldiers how near was the war to ending, and 
 now of Martin's force there were only five hundred 
 left. These had fortified Swannanoa Gap, and 
 with four cannon prepared for a vigorous defence. 
 Gillem saw that he could not take it without great 
 loss. Leaving one brigade before the Gap, he 
 started with the other, forty miles south. On 
 Sunday morning, April 23d, he captured Hender- 
 sonville with three hundred men, and turning north 
 again on the other side of the ridge, by three o'clock 
 in the afternoon he was in the rear of Martin's 
 position, in the valley of the Swannanoa, and be- 
 tween him and Asheville. The men were in high 
 spirits. They had ridden sixty-nine miles around, 
 and had turned the Confederate position. They 
 advanced to the attack with all the spirit of resistless 
 dash, which for a month had known but one issue. 
 It was a beautiful Sunday, and the earth was waking 
 to the life of Spring. And neither side knew how 
 two weeks before, on Palm Sunday, Lee had sur- 
 rendered to Grant, nor yet how Good Friday had 
 seen the nation's crucifixion in the assassination of 
 Lincoln, and Easter the hope of a nation arising 
 from the tomb of four years of death. The war 
 was never more real, and never stretched out more 
 interminably into the future, than on that morning 
 when Gillem's cavalry formed to attack Martin in 
 the now famed " Land of the Sky." 
 
The Last Fight 385 
 
 The bugles blew the charge, the men struck their 
 spurs deep. The jaded horses gathered themselves 
 for a rush, and then was given the order to halt. 
 
 " The white flag ! They surrender ! " said Gen- 
 eral Gillem. " No, it is a flag of truce. Captain 
 Casey, go forward and meet it." 
 
 Jack rode ahead, holding above his head a hand- 
 kerchief that had once been white, and met in the 
 road the captain who had captured him but a few 
 weeks before. They exchanged friendly greetings, 
 cut short by more important matters. Then Jack 
 turned his horse suddenly and rode back at a gallop. 
 He could hardly keep from cheering all the way. 
 
 " Johnston has surrendered to Sherman ! " he cried. 
 " They hain't got official news yet, but they'll know 
 by mornin'. They want an armistice till then, and 
 General Martin wants to meet General Gillem then 
 in person." 
 
 " I will meet him in person to-morrow morning," 
 said General Gillem, " and will accept his surrender 
 on the same terms that General Sherman may have 
 extended to General Johnston." 
 
 Jack rode back with the news, and the two armies 
 settled down in sight of each other to spend the 
 remainder of that Sabbath in peace : a peace, thank 
 God, that never has been broken ! There was visiting 
 along the picket line, and agreement back and forth 
 that this meant the end of the war. And they 
 waited the confirmation of the news. 
 
 It came at eleven o'clock that night. Johnston 
 had indeed surrendered. More than that, two weeks 
 that very day, Lee had laid down his arms. The 
 Confederacy was dead. The war was done. The 
 
386 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 word passed down the line and the men woke, rub- 
 bing their eyes, and heard the news and cheered. 
 The rebels knew the meaning of the cheer that 
 broke thus the silence of the midnight, and echoed 
 it back again in the rebel yell. They, too, were glad 
 that the war was done, and their yell was a glad one ; 
 but oh ! there was sadness in it, too ! And a few 
 weeks before that yell had rung out so defiantly, so 
 cheerily, so bravely ! 
 
 There was no more sleeping that night. They 
 kindled up the camp-fires. They shouted and 
 danced. They hugged each other in their joy. 
 The rebel fires were burning brightly, too. The 
 Swannanoa valley was having a midnight illumina- 
 tion. After a while some one started to sing. The 
 song started on the Union side, but the rebels took 
 it up, " When Johnny comes marching home." It 
 had been long since they had sung it, and it took 
 on a new meaning there in the mountains about 
 Asheville that Sunday night. 
 
 " Boys," said Jack, " they want to sing with us. 
 Let's sing * Dixie.' We're Southerners, too, the most 
 on us, an' we can all sing ' Dixie's land is the land 
 I was born in.' " 
 
 So back and forth between the armies echoed the 
 song, 
 
 "In Dixie's land I'll take my stand. 
 To live and die in Dixie." 
 
 There was silence then for a little while, and then 
 from the rebel side there came the strains of another 
 song. The Union soldiers listened a moment with 
 dim eyes and then caught up the air. And so at 
 
The Last Fight 387 
 
 midnight, not far from where their ancestors had 
 fought at King's Mountain under Shelby and Rob- 
 ertson and Sevier, they pHghted their troth anew 
 and sang their devotion to the united nation : 
 
 ♦* Land where my fathers died. 
 Land of the Pilgrim's pride. 
 From every mountain side. 
 Let freedom ring ! " 
 
 Secretary Stanton repudiated the terms of Sher- 
 man's agreement with Johnston, and Johnston's 
 surrender had to be made on other terms. But 
 long before Gillem and Martin knew of the deci- 
 sion at Washington, their armies had separated in 
 peace. The two armies met in friendship that 
 Monday morning, and parted brothers. Martin 
 gave Gillem three days' rations for his men, and 
 Gillem rode back to East Tennessee, and let the 
 rebels go home when they got ready. And they 
 were ready very soon. 
 
XXXIII 
 
 The Flag and the Fiddle 
 
 " 1^ JT OTHER, mother ! Have you heard the 
 \/l news? The war's over ! " 
 
 X ▼ jL. Jennie Whitley rushed into the 
 
 kitchen breathless on her return from 
 the post-office. 
 
 Mrs. Casey stood with her hands in the mush, 
 preparing the corn pone for the baker. 
 
 " Be ye right sure, Jennie ? I can't bear to be- 
 lieve it an' be disappinted." 
 
 "They hain't no manner o' doubt of it. Lee's 
 surrendered, and so's Johnston, and their armies is 
 bein' paroled and sent home." 
 
 Mrs. Casey forgot that there was mush on her 
 hands. She raised them to heaven with a cry of 
 joy, and then threw them about Jennie, and the 
 women wept ; while Cub, who was now a boy of 
 seven, and knew his spelling-book through, looked 
 on with a sense of superior dignity at this distinc- 
 tively feminine weakness. 
 
 Not a day passed after that without inquiry and 
 anticipation of a return of friends. One by one the 
 soldiers who had enlisted from the Holler began 
 coming home, some well and happy, some with 
 empty coat sleeves, some weak and maimed. Alas, 
 some never came ! 
 
 One bright day in summer, when the Holler was 
 
 388 
 
The Flag and the Fiddle 389 
 
 all glorious with the many shades of green of the 
 trees upon its slopes, and the soft gray of the rocks 
 upon its mountain crests, and the corn was in tassel 
 in its valley, and the creek was rippling in the sun, 
 and the Sinks were humming a soft, low song, and 
 the mocking-birds were busy in the apple trees, and 
 the woodpecker was tapping on the tall pine stum.p 
 in the deadening, a cavalcade came through Oxyoke 
 Gap, and down the road, and over the bottom, and 
 halted at the gate. Jennie and Elizabeth knew the 
 riders from afar, and ran to meet them at the creek. 
 The horses came splashing through the ford, and 
 would have stopped to drink, but the riders urged 
 them on, and the two men dismounted at the stile 
 blocks ; and none of them could speak for joy, but 
 EHzabeth wept in the arms of her son, and Jennie 
 Whitley was sobbing on her brother's neck, and 
 Cub looked on in wonder. 
 
 "This hain't much hke sojers," said Jack, wiping 
 his eyes with the back of his hand; "an' say, Eph, 
 you mighty nigh forgot Marthy." 
 
 Eph turned apologetically and helped Martha to 
 dismount from the spotted steed which Steph Crow- 
 ell had captured at the circus, and had loaned for 
 this occasion, 
 
 " Why, Marthy Hanson," said Jennie, " I'm 
 plumb ashamed o' myself I'm right glad to see 
 you. 'Light, an' come in." 
 
 " She ain't Marthy Hanson no more," said Eph, 
 chuckling. " I've fetched ye a sister." 
 
 " I wouldn't ast fur no better sister," said Jen- 
 nie. "I'm awful glad, Marthy. When did ye 
 git married?" 
 
390 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 " Last Sunday week," said Eph. " I was sorter 
 triflin' an' in the hospital at Nashville fur a week, 
 an' when I got out, the reg'maint had come 
 back ter Kaintuck an' ben discharged. Jack had 
 jes' ben mustered out at Knoxville, an' I went thar 
 an' met him, an' Marthy come an' met us thar. 
 Parson Brownlow — he's Gov nor Brownlow now — 
 was back in Knoxville spendin' Sunday, an' we jes' 
 walked up an' got married." 
 
 " Jes' think of it, Marthy ! " said Jennie. " Mar- 
 ried by the Gov'nor o' Tennessy ! " 
 
 " We'll soon have another weddin'," said Jack, 
 " an' I ain't a-keerin' much whether it's a gov'nor 
 does it, or just a common preacher ; but I'm mighty 
 p'tic'lar about the girl," and he took Jennie in his 
 arms. 
 
 It was already decided that Jack and his mother 
 should make their home on Roundstone, and Jack 
 soon began preparations for the building of a new 
 house just up the creek from the Whitley's. It was 
 a merry time, the day of their raising, as the Holler 
 well remembers, and the soldier boys came out, and 
 neighbors gathered to honor the young couple who 
 there were to begin life together. The logs had 
 been hewed and hauled, the shingles had been spht, 
 and the puncheons had been shaved; and the house, 
 as all the Holler knows, was raised and roofed and 
 floored, all in a single day. There were friends from 
 near, and friends from afar, and Joe and Becky 
 Whitley came from Estill, and brought with them 
 a pole, with one end carefully wrapped. 
 
 Steph Crowell was there with his fiddle, declaring 
 that he felt so jealous of Jack that he wouldn't a 
 
The Flag and the Fiddle. Page 391, 
 
The Flag and the Fiddle 391 
 
 come, but he 'lowed that was the only way to git 
 his pied horse back, and being thar, he reckoned 
 he mought as well make the best on it, 
 
 Sam and Bessie Marshall were there, and Sam 
 was foremost in the work of the raising, and Bessie 
 and Martha and Becky decorated the bare logs of 
 the new house with festoons of ground pine and 
 bunches of holly and flowers of early autumn. 
 They made a bower where the fireplace stood, and 
 Becky carefully undid Joe's long bundle, and draped 
 above the bower the flag of the 8 th Kentucky. 
 
 The work of raising was over. The supper was 
 waiting in the yard. The bonfire was ready for the 
 lighting. The men washed themselves in the spring- 
 branch and prepared themselves for appearance in 
 polite society by putting on their coats, and gathered 
 in the house and about the door. Then Sam and 
 Bessie and Mrs. Casey and Cub stood on one side, 
 and Joe and Becky and Eph and Martha on the 
 other, and Jack and Jennie took their places in the 
 middle. The girls had planned it together, and 
 the result was a very pretty one. Old Parson 
 Nesbit stepped to the front, and Jack and Jennie 
 were married beneath the folds of the flag that first 
 ascended Lookout Mountain. 
 
 The service was simple, but impressive — every 
 bit and grain as good, so Jack asserted, as if the 
 Governor had performed it. There was a moment's 
 pause after the prayer, and Jack and Jennie were 
 still standing, hand in hand, when Bessie led Cub 
 forward, and placed a hand of his in each of theirs, 
 and so doubly were they united. 
 
 Then came the supper and the pine-knot illumina- 
 
392 A Hero in Homespun 
 
 tion and the merry-making that lasted until mid- 
 night. They danced a Virginia reel by the light of 
 the moon and the pine-knots, and Jack led with 
 Bessie in the first set. They played " Skip t'-m'- 
 loo," and Sam pronounced the bride to be " Pretty 
 as a red-bird," as indeed she was. And the great 
 sweet gum tree that grows before the door, lighted 
 up by the flickering glare of the torches, was glori- 
 ious in all the wealth of its autumnal foliage. 
 
 The minister stayed to supper, but left before the 
 dancing, and thereby showed his discretion. As 
 Jennie had insisted that no stronger drink be served 
 than a delicious sarsaparilla beer of her own brewing, 
 there was no drunkenness and no quarrelling. 
 There was never a happier wedding on Roundstone 
 than that of Captain Andrew Jackson Casey, in his 
 faded suit of army blue and his shoulder-straps dingy 
 with service, and Jennie Whitley in a dress of her 
 own spinning, standing under the flag, where they 
 both had earned the right to stand. And so the 
 tale ends, as indeed it ought not, with the heroine, 
 and not the hero, in homespun. 
 
 They went to work in the stony Holler, with its 
 thin soil and its rocks and stumps, to dig an honest 
 living from the grudging earth. The war had left 
 all hearts sore. To whom did the war mean as 
 much as to these people, whose whole horizon it 
 covered, and whose calendar to this day begins with 
 that portentous event, which has cast all preceding 
 time into one prehistoric reminiscence ? The cares 
 of their daily life soon occupied their minds and 
 hands. They split out new rails and made fences 
 where the old ones had been used for fuel. They 
 
The Flag and the Fiddle 393 
 
 turned to the fields that had grown up to sedge and 
 sassafras, and broke them anew with the hillside 
 plough. They " made " annually their " little crap o' 
 corn," cultivating it with the bull-tongue plough, and 
 with hoes whose every stroke rang on the stones of 
 the hillsides. They brought home with them a few 
 horses to replace those that had been stolen by the 
 armies, and little by little made good the numbers 
 of their small herds of sheep and hogs and cattle 
 and poultry. They lived over in each day the ex- 
 ternal features of the day preceding, with its com- 
 mon round of petty duties. They made their visits 
 to mill or to meeting, and to neighbors up the creek 
 or down. And that is all. 
 
 They are still there, living their commonplace 
 lives. They are older, now, and have children and 
 grandchildren, who listen almost with incredulity 
 to the stories of a time that seems so remote and so 
 different. They seem to themselves, sometimes, to 
 be talking about other people, when they describe 
 those thrilling incidents in their own past. They 
 have long since forgotten, if they ever suspected, 
 that they once showed any elements that were 
 heroic. They do not know, and the world has 
 yet to learn, that in the days when our nation's 
 fate hung trembling in the balance, the scale was 
 in their hand, and they held it without faltering for 
 the Union. They will never know that they were 
 heroic ; but their country ought to know that be- 
 neath many a coat of homespun in Roundstone 
 Holler there beats the heart of a hero. 
 
RARE BOOK 
 COLLECTION 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 AT 
 
 CHAPEL HILL 
 
 Wilmer 
 91