:scs;XJtv3[x^x.f E:^:fiKX!^Kf"E;i^HZ-i ;,s^^^'^' i»^^^^^^■^i««»NSN^SS|S^■«<^SSSS^'!S^^ UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN BOOKSTACKS NOTICE: Return or renew all Library Materialsl The Minimum Fee for each Lost Book is $50.00. The person charging this material is responsible for its return to the library from which it was withdrawn on or before the Latest Date stamped below. Theft, mutilation, and underlining of books are reasons for discipli- nary action and may result in dismissal from the University. To renew call Telephone Center, 333-8400 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN APi^ ^ J99 MRR2 5 1957 DEC 9 1997 flfC 1 S h% DEC 1 5 1993 L161— O-1096 THRILLING STORIES GREAT REBELLION, MnUNTAJN SCDUT , THRILLING STORIES GREAT REBELLION COMPBISISa HEROIC ADVENTURES AND HAIR- BREADTH ESCAPES OF SOLDIERS, SCOUTS, SPIES, AXD REFUGEES; DARING EXPLOITS OF SMUG- GLERS, GUERRILLAS, DESPERADOES, AND OTHERS; TALES 07 LOYAL AND DISLOYAL WOMEN ; STORIES OF THE NEGRO, ETC. ETC. WITH INCIDENTS OF FUN AND MERRIMENI IN CAMP AND FIELD. • TOGETHER WITH JLN ACCOUNT OF THE DEATU OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN ; FATl OF THE ASSASSINS ; CAPTURE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, AND END OF THE WAR. BY LIKUTENANT-COLONEL CHARLES S. GREENS. LATE OF THE CKITEB STATES ABMT. :it^ illustrations. p H I L A I) K L p in A t John E. Potter and Company, 617 iJANbOM SliiKKT. Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the jear 1864, h.*- JOHN E. POTTER, in the Office of the Clerk of the District Court of the United States in and for the Eastern District of the State of Pennsylvania. %1 /W PREFACE. In the quick succession of surprising events which hate characterized our country's history since the outbreak of the great rebellion, it has been beyond the power of any one to retain more than fragmentary, disconnected impressions of scenes and incidents which would prove a valuable addition to one's stock of information, could they but be permanently located in memory's storehouse. Detailed histories and official records must, of necessity, be resorted to for the graver and weightier matters connected with our present struggle for a national existence ; of such, fortunately, there bids fair to be no lack. The earnest inquirer ftfter the outline facts of the contest will be at no loss to discover a variety of sources whence he may glean all that he desires. Of the comparatively minor movements in the great irama, however, there exists, at present, nothing which can be regarded as a fitting repository. While the deeds and misdeeds of the more prominent actors on the busy stage are chronicled in formal phrases of eulogium or censure, the Almost innumerable multitude of incidents of adventure and daring — the items of personal endurance and suffering — the details of peril by flood and field — the rollicking, luxuriant humor of the camp, cropping out in word and act — the hero- ism of the hospital — the devotion of friendship — indeed, the large majority of individual cases, among the less known and famous, which, in reality, serve to make the present war <5) $ PREFACE. what it is — have thus far been consigned, if noticed at all, to the columns of the newspaper, one day read and the next day forgotten, or to the pages of the letter, intended for but few eyes. This ought not so to be. He who would form a correct opinion as to the present rebellion as a whole, must carefully examine the various parts which compose it. In this view, scarcely anything bearing upon the contest can be deemed insignificant or trivial, nothing, certainly, " common or un- clean." To rescue this class of incidents from oblivion, to present them in an attractive garb, carefully discriminating between fact and fancy, to collect what else would be fugitive and ephemeral in a permanent and acceptable form — these were the objects contemplated in the preparation of the following pages They cannot fail to prove of interest to all. They narrate of our common humanity, when most sorely tried and tempted, Avhose manifestations have ever, since man was, stirred the blood and enkindled the heart. They record deeds in sym- pathy Avilh which "the common pulse of man keeps time." Not a moment of the hours of enforced leisure which have been directed to the selection, condensation, and arrangement of the pages which follow is regretted by the compiler. He knows not that he could have been better or more pleasantly employed. To the thousands of loyal men and women, whose prayers, wishes, and efforts go forth so earnestly and incessantly for the cause of right and truth, the cause of our common coun- try, and of man wherever found, this book is submitted, with the confident assurance that it contains much, at least, that all desire to remember, and little, if any, that deserves to be forgotten. CONTENTS. rAsi The GTreat Railroad Adventure . . . .11 A Prophetic Presentiment 19 Adventure of a Spy .... 20 The Negro Tillman's Narratire 22 Zagonyi's Famous Charge 25 The Fearful Ordeal 40 The Frightened Speculators 41 The Daring Spy . . . 43 Little Eddie, the Drummer-boy 55 Old Ben, the Mountain Scout . . 60 Surrounding Five of Them . 71 Army Wings, as explained by one of the Boys 71 Irish Wit Ever Ready . 72 Miss Oldom, the Kentucky Heroine . . 73 Fighting on His own Hook . 74 Dahlgren's Famous Dash . 81 A Fighting Parson . 83 Taking it Coolly . 85 Too Much for Her . 86 A Nameless Spy . 86 A Daring Deed 91 (T) CONTENTS. Wouldn't Sell . The Irish Sentinel Good for the Belgians The Hollow-Heeled Boo Presence of Mind An Ingenious Dodge Old Gap of Tennessee Going the "Whole Hog Didn't Like It . A Practical Joke Praying for the President The Quakers on the War-Path The Scout's Story In the Shenandoah Valley Incidents of a Fight A Heroic Sailor Adventure of Killdare the Scout The Night of the Battle of Ball's Bluff Incidents of Fort Pickens A Strange Sight in Battle Heroism in the Hospital Impudent Coolness Joe Parsons the Maryland Boy A Loyal Pigeon Gathering in the Contrabands John Morgan's Female Spy Incidents of Grierson's Raid Eddy McFadden A Brave Boy and Gallant Sailor Characteristic Incident CONTENTS. 9 fAGH Sailie Richmond and Devil Bill .... 165 Keutuck against Kentuck . 175 The Scout's Revenge . 176 Why the Lieutenant Ate the Pie . 189 A Gallant Lad . . 191 On the Cumberland . 192 A Chat about Stone River . 193 The Wrong Leg . 195 What it cost to be Loyal . 195 A Desperate Hand-to-Hand Contest . 198 Fists against Muskets . . 199 Killed in Action . 199 Drawing Rations . 204 Hadn't Heard of the War . 205 An Impromptu Duel . 206 How Ike Barker was Whipped . 208 Life at Elk Horn Tavern . 213 Escape from Libby Prison . 223 Adventures of an Arkansas Refugee . 229 How the Secesh took Clark Wright . 239 A Race for Life . 243 Pluck on the Frontier . . 248 A Night Adventure on the Potomac . 258 The Tennessee Blacksmith . 266 A Conflict with Desperadoes . . 274 Stealing a March . 279 A Darkey in the Air . 286 The Fourteenth at Gettysburg . . 287 The Way Joe Allen Buried Vandegrift . 293 Bragg and his High Private . 298 10 CONTENM. The Right Man in the Right Place The Fight at Brandy . Not the Right " Sanders" The Sharpshooter's Story . The Prose of Battles . A Thrilling Scene in Tennessee The Bogus Kentucky Unionist A Contraband's Idea of War . The Traitor Wagon-Master A Cute Darkey . , . Not Used to It . Newcomer the Scout Thrilling Adventure on a Railway The Great Conspiracy . Assassination of President Lincoln The Evacuation of Richmond . Attempted Assassination of Secretary Seward Sam De Morse the Guerrilla Death of Booth the Assassin . Hanging of the Conspirators How a Substitute Broker was Taken In How the Alabama Unionists Hung a Guerrilla Incidents in the Pursuit of Booth Swearing a Contraband Gen. McCall's First Escape A Frightened African . • Capture of Jeff. Davia . . THUILLING STORIES GREAT REBELLION. THE GEEAT EAUKOAD ADVEKTimE. *?HE expedition which is here recorded had, in the daring of its conception, the wildness of a romance; while in the gigantic and overwhelming results which it sought and was likelj to accomplish it was absolutely sublime. In April, 1862, the rebel forces in the west, under Beauregard, were concentrated at Corinth, Miss., with smaller detachments scattered along the railroad to Chat- tanooga, Tenn. The railroads on which he relied for supplies and reinforcements, as well as for communica- tion with the eastern portion of rebeldom, formed an irreg- ular parallelogram, of which the northern side extended from Memphis, Tenn., to Chattanooga ; the eastern from Chattanooga to Atlanta, Ga. ; the southern from Atlanta to Jackson, Miss. ; and the western, by a network of roads, from Jackson to Memphis. The Great East Tennessee and Virginia E. K. intersected this parallelogram at Chat- tanooga, By the obstruction of the northern and eastern sides of this parallelogram Beauregard was isolated, and East Tennessee, then in possession of the rebels, made readily accessible to the Government forces. A second military expedition was accordingly set on foot, in that month, under the authority and direction of ( 11 ) 12 THE GREAT RAILROAD ADVENTURE Gen. O. M. Mitcbell, whose division "was then at Shelby- ville, Tenn., for the purpose of destroying the communi- cation on the Georgia State R. R., between Atlanta and Chattanooga. The expedition comprised twenty-three men, under the lead of J. J. Andrews, a Keutuckian, and the originator of the enterprise, who, with a single exception, a Kentuckian, who acted as the substitute of a soldier, had been selected from different companies in Gen. M.'s division for their known courage and discretion. The mode of operation propospd was to reach a point on the road where they could seize a locomotive and train of cars, and then dash back in the direction of Chatta- nooga, cutting the telegraph wires and burning the bridges behind them as they advanced, until they reached their own lines. All understood that the service was secret and danger- ous, and that if they were caught, hanging would probably be their lot. The whole party, accordingly, were disguised in citizen's dress, and on the seventh of April left camp, at Shelbyville, and made for Manchester, Tenn. Great difficulty was experienced in passing their own pickets, and several were near being shot. At Manchester they represented themselves as Kentuckians on their way to Chattanooga to join the rebel army. After leaving that point they fell in with rebel sympathizers, who furnished them with letters and passes to their friends in Chatta- nooga. At this time the party divided into squads of two and four, and started ahead of each other, all, how- ever, with the same story as to their ultimate object. After five days the party met at Chattanooga, and at once took the cars for Marietta, Ga. Before leaving Andrews divided among them seven hundred dollars of Confederate script, and told them that they were soon to enter upon their dangerous duty, but the first man that got drunk or flinched in the least, he would shoot him dead on the spot ; that the object must be accomplished, or they must leave their bones in Dixie. THE GREAT RAILROAD ADVENTURE. 13 After a journey of about eighteen hours, they arrived at Marietta, Ga., and put up at a tavern. The next morning before daylight they again took the cars, and went back the same road to a place called Big Shanty, a refreshment saloon on the line of the Georgia and Atlanta State Road, where were encamped about twenty thousand Confederate troops. It was the general rendezvous for recruits and the organization of regiments. The train contained a number of soldiers as well as citizens, together with a quantity of provisions, and an iron safe containing a large amount of Confederate script, to pay the troops at Corinth. This portion of the road is built over innu- merable creeks and rivers, and crosses the Tennessee Kiver at Bridgeport, where a fine bridge is erected. The whole party, consisting of twenty, left the cars and divided into squads of three and four, taking stations on each side of the train, Andrews stationing himself at the coupling-pin of the third car. A number of the party were engineers, and thoroughly understood the business on liand. One of the engineers was at his post, and found everything all right. All hands now mounted the cars, although the. guard was within three feet of them ; the word was given, Andrews drew the coupling-pin, and cried all right. The train, now consisting of three cars and the engine, was started off with as little noise as possible. They soon lost sight of the lights at Big Shanty, and at the first curve the train was stopped, and one of the party climbed the telegraph-pole and cut the wires. They then started, and the next point tore up the track, and took a rail with them on the car ; and thus they continued, tearing up tha track and cutting the wires on the other side, after pass- ing a town. Unfortunately, however, the train was run- ning in a very slow schedule, and they were compelled to switch off and let the down-train pass. At the first station this occurred, the engineer of the road made his appearance, and was about to step on the engine, when 14 THE GREAT RAILROAD ADVENTURE. Andrews told liim he could not come on bonrd, as tliis was an extra train to run through to Corinth, and the present party were engaged to carry it there, and in sup- port of the assertion the iron safe was shown. This ap- parently satisfied the engineer, and they took in wood and water, and again started. A second time they were compelled to switch off, and in order to get the switch- keys, Andrews, who knew the road well, went into the station and took them from the office. This caused con- siderable excitement, but it was quieted in a measure by stating that the train contained gunpowder for Beaure- gard, at Corinth, and soon after they again started. About twenty miles south of Dalton, Ga., they came to a bridge, and here set fire to one of the cars, piled on wood, and left it on the bridge, designing to set it on fire also. At this time the engineer at the Kome branch, sus- pecting that all was not right, started up the track, found the rails torn up, and immediately returned to the junc- tion, and took on board a quantity of loose rails, and fol- lowed after. Where they had torn up the rails he im- mediately laid one, and without stopping to fasten it, started over slowly, and gave chase. Soon he came to the bridge with the burning car, which had not yet cal^ght the bridge. In the mean time they had switched off to let an express pass, which train was duly informed of their character by discovering the track torn up, and stopped, but was soon joined by the Rome engineer, who had succeeded in turning the burning car off the bridge. They then both started iu pursuit, laying the track as they went along, which they could do iu a much shorter time than the expedition could tear it up. Thus it was they overtook them at work ; and as soon as they found themselves discovered, speed was their only hope, and at it they went ; but unfortunately their fuel was nearly out, and it Avas then determined to leave the engine and take to the woods. Accordingl}^ they stop- ped and reversed her, intending she should run back THE GREAT RAILROAD ADVENTURE, 15 upon their pursuers ; but in this they failed, as she had not sufficient steam to turn her over, and the object of the adventurers thus failed from a combination of unfor- tunate circumstances. Ten minutes more would have set the bridge on fire, and the Eome engineer, with the rails, could not have followed them, and the down express was entirely useless. It was their intention to have destro)'ed all the bridges, run into Chattanooga, wait until the even- ing train passed, and then gone on to Bridgeport, destroyed the bridge over the Tennessee Kiver, and then away for Huntsville, to join General Mitchell, Their troubles now commenced, and the greatest of all their disasters was the division of their party ; 'twas now every man for himself. So soon as they had left the cars, and dispersed them- selves in the woods, the population of the country around turned out in their pursuit, employing for this purpose the dogs which are trained to hunt down the fugitive slaves of the South. The whole twenty-two were cap- tured. Among them was private Jacob Parrot, of Co. K, Thirty-third Regiment Ohio Volunteers. "When ar- rested, he was, without any form of trial, taken possession of by a military officer and four soldiers, who stripped him, bent him over a stone, and while two pistols were held over his head, a lieutenant in rebel uniform inflicted with a rawhide upwards of a hundred lashes on his bare back. This was done in the presence of an infuriated crowd, who clamored for his blood, and actually brought a rope with which to hang him. The object of this pro- longed scourging was to force this young man to confess to them the objects of the expedition and the names of his comrades, especially that of the engineer who had run the train. Their purpose was, no doubt, not only to take the life of the latter if identified, but to do so with every circumstance of humiliation and torture which they could devise. Three times, in the progress of this horrible flogging, 16 THE GREAT RAILROAD ADVENTURE. it was suspended, and Mr. Parrot was asked if he would not confess ; but, steadily and firmly to the last, he re- fused all disclosures, and it was not till his tormentors were weary of their brutal work that the task of subduing their victim was abandoned as hopeless. The twenty-two captives, when secured, were thrust into the negro-jail of Chattanooga. They occupied a single room, half under ground, and but thirteen feet square, so that there was not space enough for them all to lie down together, and a part of them were, in conse- quence, obliged to sleep sitting and leaning against the walls. The only entrance was through a trap-door in the ceiling, that was raised twice a day to let down their scanty meals, which were lowered in a bucket. They had no other light or ventilation than that which came through two small triple-grated windows. They were covered with swarming vermin, and the heat Avas so op- pressive that they were often obliged to strip themselves entirely of their clothes to bear it. Add to this, they were all handcuffed, and, with trace-chains secured by padlocks around their necks, were fastened to each other in companies of twos and threes. Their food, which was doled out to them twice a day, consisted of a little flour wet with water and baked in the form of bread,^ and spoiled pickled beef. They had no opportunity of pro- curing any supplies from the outside, nor had they any means of doing so — their pockets having been rifled of their last cent by the Confederate authorities, prominent among whom was an officer wearing the rebel uniform of a major. No part of the money thus basely taken was ever returned. During this imprisonment at Chattanooga their leader, Mr. Andrews, was tried and condemned as a spy, and was subsequently executed at Atlanta, the seventh of June. They were strong and in perfect health when they entered this negro-jail, but at the end of something more than three weeks, when they were required to leave it, THE GREAT RAILROAD ADVENTURE. 17 they were so exhausted from the treatment to which they had been subjected, as scarcely to be able to walk, and several staggered from weakness as they passed through the street to the cars. Finally, twelve of the number were transferred to the prison of Knoxville, Tenn. On arriving there, seven of them were arraigned before a court-martial, charged with being spies. Their trial of course was summary. They were permitted to be present, but not to hear either the argument of their own counsel or that of the judge-advo- cate. Soon thereafter all the prisoners were removed to At- lanta, and they left Knoxville under a belief that their comrades, who had been tried, either had been or would be acquitted. On the eighteenth of June, after their arrival at Atlan- ta, where they rejoined the comrades from whom they had been separated at Chattanooga, their prison-door was opened, and the death-sentences of the seven who had been tried at Knoxville were read to them. No time for preparation was allowed them. They were told to bid their friends farewell, " and to be quick about it." They were at once tied and carried out to execution. Among the seven was private Samuel Robinson, Co. G, Thirty- third Ohio Volunteers, who was too ill to walk. He was, however, pinioned like the rest, and in this condition was dragged from the floor on which he was lying to the scaftbld. In an hour or more the cavalry escort, which had accompanied them, was seen returning with the cart, but the cart was empty — the tragedy had been consum- mated ! On that evening and the following morning the pri- soners learned from the provost marshal and guard that their comrades had died, as all true soldiers of the Re- public should die, in the presence of its enemies. Among the revolting incidents which they mentioned in connec- tion with this cowardly butchery, was the fall of two of 2 18 THE GREAT RAILROAD ADVENTURE. the victims from the breaking of the ropes after thejhad been for some time suspended. On their being re- stored to consciousness, they begged for an hour in which to pray and to prepare for death, but this was re- fused them. The ropes were readjusted, and the execution at once proceeded. Among those who thus perished was private Alfred Wilson, Co. C, Twenty-first Ohio Volunteers. He was a mechanic from Cincinnati, who, in the exercise of his trade, had travelled much through the States, north and south. Though surrounded by a scowling crowd, impa- tient for his sacrifice, he did not hesitate while standing under the gallows to make them a brief address. lie told them that though they were all wrong, he had no hostile feelings towards the Southern people, believing that not they but their leaders were responsible for the rebellion ; that he was no spy, as charged, but a soldier regularly detailed for military duty; that he did not re- gret to die for his country, but only regretted the manner of his death ; and he added, for their admonition, that they would yet see the time when the old Union would be restored, and when its flag would wave over them again. And with these words the brave man died. IIo, like his comrades, calmly met the ignominious doom of a felon — but, happily, ignominious for him and for tliem only so far as the martyrdom of the patriot and the hero can be degraded by the hands of ruffians and traitc^rs. The remaining prisoners, now reduced to fourteen, were kept closely confined under special guard, in the jail at Atlanta, until October, when, overhearing a con- versation between the jailer and another officer, they bc- cme satisfied that it was the purpose of the authorities to hang them, as they had done their companions. This led them to form a plan for their escape, which they car- ried into execution on the evening of the next day, by seizing the jailer when he opened the door to carry away the bucket in which their supper had been brought. A PEOPIIETIC PRESENTIMENT, 19 This was followed by tlie seizure also of tlie seven guards on duty, and before the alarm was given eight of the ihgi- tives were beyond the reach of pursuit. Six of those, after long and painful wanderings, succeeded in reaching the Union Lines. Of the fate of the other two nothing is known. The remaining six of the fourteen were recaptured and confined in the barracks, until December, when they were removed to Richmond. There they were shut up in a room in Castle Thunder, where they shivered through the winter, without fire, thinly clad, and with but two small blankets, which they had saved with their clothes, to cover the whole party. So they remained until they were exchanged, at the end of eleven months. A PROPHETIC PEESENTIMENT. While Col. Osterhaus was gallantly attacking the centre of the enemy on the second day of the battle of Pea Ridge, Ark., a sergeant of the Twelfth ]\[issouri requested the captain of his com])any to send his wife's portrait, which he had taken from his bosom, to her address in St. Louis, with his dying declaration that he thought of her in his last moment. " What is that for ?" asked the captain. " You are not wounded, are you ?" "No," answered the sergeant; "but I know I shall be killed to-day. I have been in battle before, but I never felt as I do now. A moment ago I became convinced my time had come, but how, I cannot tell. Will you gratify my request? Remember, I speak to you as a dying man." " Certainly, my brave fellow ; but you will live to a good old age with your wife. Do not grow melancholy over a fanc}'' or a dream." " You will see," was the response. 20 ADVENTURE OP A SPY. The picture changed hands. The sergeant stepped for- ward to the front of the column, and the captain per- ceived him no more. At the camp-fire that evening the officer inquired for the sergeant. He was not present. He had been killed three hours before by a grape-shot from one of the enemy's batteries. ADTEUTUEE OF A SPY. It was a dark night. Not a star on the glimmer. The spy had collected his quotum of intelligence, and was on the move for the Northern lines. He was ap- proaching the banks of a stream whose waters had to be crossed, and had then some miles to traverse before he could reach the pickets of the Union troops. A feeling of uneasiness began to creep over him ; he was on the outskirt of a wood fringing the dark waters at his feet, whose presence could scarcely be detected but for their sullen murmurs as they rushed through the gloom. The wind sighed in gentle accordance. He walked forty or fifty yards along the bank. He then crept on all-fours along the ground and groped with his hands. He paused — he groped again — his breath thickened, perspi- ration oozed from every pore, and he was prostrated with horror! He had missed his landmark, and knew not where he was. Below or above, beneath the shelter of the bank, lay the skiff' he had hidden ten days before when he commenced his operations among the followers of Jeff'. Davis. As he stood gasping for breath, with all the unmis- takable proofs of his calling about him, the sudden cry of a bird or plunging of a fish would act like magnetism on his frame, not wont to shudder at a shadow. No matter how pressing the danger may be, if a man sees an opportunity for escape, he breathes with freedom. But ADVENTURE OF A SPY. 21 let liim be surrounded bv darkness, impenetrable at two yards' distance, within rifle's length of concealed foes, for what knowledge he has to the contrary ; knowing, too, with painful accuracy, the detection of his presence would reward him with a sudden and violent death, and if he breathes no faster, and feels his limbs as free and his spi- rits as light as when taking a favorite promenade, he is more fitted for a hero than most. In the agony of that moment — in the sudden and utter helplessness he felt to discover his true bearings — he was about to let himself gentlv into the stream, and breast its current, for life and death. There was no alternative. The Northern pickets must be reached in safety before the morning broke, or he would soon swing between heaven and earth, from some green limb of the black forest in which he stood. At that moment the low, sullen bay of a bloodhound struck his ear. The sound was reviving — the fearful stillness broken. The uncertain dread flew before the certain danger. He was standing to his middle in the shallow bed of the river, just beneath the jutting banks. After a pause of a few seconds he began to creep mecha- nically and stealthil}'- down the stream, followed, as he knew from the rustling of the grass and frequent break- ing of twigs, by the insatiable brute ; ahhough by certain uneasy growls he felt assured the beast was at fault. Something struck against the spy's breast. He could not prevent a slight cry from escaping him, as, stretching out his hand, he grasped the gunwale of a boat moored be- neath the bank. Between surprise and joy he felt half choked. In an instant he had scrambled on board and began to search for the painter in the bow, in order to cast her from her fastenings. Suddenly a bright ray of moonlight — the first gleam of hope in that black night — fell directly on the spot, revealing the silvery stream, his own skiff (hidden there ten days before), lighting the deep shadows of the verging 22 THE NEGRO TILLMAN's NARRATIVE. wood, and on the log half buried in the bank, and from which he had that instant cast the line that had bound him to it, the supple form of the crouching bloodhcmnd. his red eyes gleaming in the moonlight, jaws distended, and poising for the spring. With one dart the light skift' was yards out in the stream, and the savage after it With an oar the spy aimed a blow at his head, which, however, he eluded with ease. In the effort thus made, the boat careened over towards his antagonist, who made a desperate effort to get his forepaws over the side, at the same time seizing the gunwale with his teeth. Now or never was the time to get rid of the accursed brute. The spy drew his revolver, and placed the muzzle between the beast's eyes, but hesitated to fire; for that one report might bring on him a volley from the shore. Meantime the strength of the dog careened the frail craft so much that the water rushed over the side, threatening to swamp her. He changed his tactics, threw his revolver into the bottom of the skiff", and grasping his "bowie," keen as a Malay creese, and glittering as he released it from the sheath, like a moonbeam on the stream. In an instant he had severed the sinewy throat of the hound, cutting through the brawn and muscle to the nape of the neck. The tenacious wretch gave a wild, convulsive leap half out of the water, then sank, and was gone. Five minutes' pulling landed the spy on the other side of the river, and in an hour after, without further accident, he was among friends, encompassed by the Northern lines. THE UEGEO TILLMAN'S NARRATIVE. The schooner S. J. Waring had started on a voyage to Buenos Ayres, in Montevideo, with an assorted cargo, which, witii the vessel, was valued at a hundred thousand THE NEGRO TILLMAN'S NARRATIVE. 23 dollars. There were on board the captain and mate; William Tillman, steward, a native of Delaware, 27 years old, who has followed the sea for ten years ; Wm. Sted- ding, seaman; Donald McLeod, seaman, of Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, 30 years of age ; and Bryce Mackinnon, a passenger. On the 7th of July, 1861, they fell in with the Jeff. Davis, and a prize crew of five were put aboard who were unarmed. To use the language of Tillman, " They run ten days and didn't find Charleston. They were, however, only fifty miles south of Charleston, and one hundred to the eastward. On the voyage they treated me the best kind of way and talked the best kind of talk." One day the first lieutenant of the pirates was sitting in the cabin, cross-legged, smoking, and he said to me — " AYhen you go down to Savannah, I want you to go to my house, and I will take care of you." I thought, continued the negro, "Yes, you will take care of me when you get me there." I raised my hat, and said — " Yes, sir, thank you." But afterwards I said to Billy (the German), "I am not going to Charleston a live man ; they may take me there dead." He had been told by the prize-master that he would get rewarded in Charleston for performing his duty so well in bringing the schooner in. He also heard con- versation, not intended for his ears, in regard to the price he would probably bring; and he had heard the prizj- master say to one of his men — " You talk to that steward and keep him in good heart. By " said the prize-master, " he will never see the North again." Tillman conferred with two of the seamen about taking possession of the schooner; but they declined adopting any plan, saying that none of them knew how to navigate 24 THE NEGRO TILLMAN's NARRATIVE. her back should they succeed in getting control. Till- man thought the matter over for three days, and then made an appeal to the German, and said, "If you are a man to stick to your word, we can take this vessel easy." Then we made a plan that I was to go to my berth, and when most of the men were asleep he was to give me some sign, or awake me. We tried this for two nights, but no good chance offered. But last Tuesday night we caught them asleep, and we went to work. The mate comes to my berth and he touches me. He says, " Now is your time." I went into my room and got my hatchet. The first man I struck was the captain. He was lying in a state- room on the starboard side. I aimed for his temple as near as I could, and hit him just below the ear with the edge of the hatchet. With that he made a very loud shriek. The passenger jumped up very much in a fright, I told him to be still ; I shall not hurt a hair of your head. The passenger knew what I was up to ; he never said a word more, I walks across the cabin to the second mate's room, and I gave him one severe blow in the mole of the head — that is, right across the middle of his head, I didn't stop to see whether he was dead or no; but I jumped on deck, and as I did so, the mate, who had been sleeping on the companion-way, started from the noise he had heard in the cabin. Just as he arose upon his feet, I struck him on the back of the head, -Then the German chap jumped over, and we "mittened" on to him, and flung him over the starboard quarter. Then we went down stairs into the cabin. The second mate was not quite dead. He was sitting leaning against his berth. I " catched" him by the hair of the head with my left hand, and struck him with the hatchet I had in my right hand. I told this young German, " Well, let's THE NEGRO TILLMAN 's NARRATIVE. 25 get him overboard as soon as -we can," So we hauled him over on to the cabin. He was not quite dead, but he would not have lived long. We flung hini over the starboard quarter. Then I told this German to go and call that man Jim, the southern chap (one of the pirates), here. He called him aft. Says I, " Jim, come down here in the cabin. Do you know that I have taken charge of this vessel to-night ? I am going to put you in irons." " Well," says he, " I am willing." He gave right up. I kept him in irons till 8 o'clock the next morning. I then sent the German for him, and I said — '•Smith (the name Milnor went by on board), I want you to join us and help take this vessel back. But mind, the least crook or the least turn, and overboard you go with the rest." " Well," said he, "I will do the best I can." And he worked well all the way back. He couldn'^t do other- wise. It was pump or sink. They didn't have any chance to beg. It was all done in five minutes. In seven minutes and a half after I struck the first blow the vessel was squared away before the wind and all sail set. We were fifty miles south of Charleston, and one hundred to the eastward. Tillman said that at first he had thought of securing all the men, and bringing them all to New York alive, in irons ; but he found this was impracticable. To use his own language, "There were too many for that — there were five of them, and only three of us." After this, I said, well, 1 will get all back I can alive, and the rest I will kill. Tillman says he went away aa a steward, but came back as a captain. 26 ZAGONYl'S FAMOUS CHARGE. ZAGONYI'S PAMOUS OHAEGE. Among the foreign officers whom the fame of Gene- ral Fremont drew around him, was Charles Zagonyi, a Hungarian refugee, but long a resident of this country. In his boyhood, Zagonyi had plunged into the passionate, but unavailing struggle which Hungary made for lier liberty. He at once attracted the attention of General Bem, and was by him placed in command of a picked company of cavalry. In one of the desperate engagements of the war, Zagonyi led a charge upon a large artillery force. More than half of his men were slain. He was wounded and taken prisoner. Two years passed before he could exchange an Austrian dungeon for American exile. General Fremont welcomed Zagonyi cordially, and authorized him to recruit a company of horse to act as his body-guard. Zagonyi was most scrupulous in his selection ; hut so ardent was the desire to serve under the eye, and near the person of the General, that in five days after the lists were opened two full companies were en- listed. Soon after a wholo company, composed of the very flower of the youth of Kentucky, tendered its ser- vices, and requested to be added to the Guard. Zagonyi was still overwhelmed with applications, and he obtained permission to recruit a fourth company. The fourth company, however, did not go with us into the field. The men were clad in blue jackets, trousers, and caps. They were armed with light German sabres, the best that at that time could be procured, and revol- vers ; besides which, the first company carried carbines. They were mounted upon bay horses, carefully selected from the government stables. Zagonyi had but little time to instruct his recruits, but in less than a month from the commencement of the enlistments, the Body- Guard was a well disciplined and most efficient corps of ZAQONYl'S FAMOUS CHARGE. 2t cavalry. The officers were all American except three — one Hollander, and two Hungarians, Zagonji and Lieu- tenant Mathenyi, who came to the United States during his boyhood. Zagonyi left our camp at eight o'clock on the evening of October 2-ith, 1861, with about a hundred and sixty men, the remainder of the Guard being left at head-quar- ters under the command of a non-commissioned officer. Major White was already on his way to Springfield with bis squadron. This young officer, hardly twenty- one years old, had won great reputation for energy and zeal while a captain of infantry in a New York regiment stationed at Fort ]\[onroe. He there saAv much hazardous scouting service, and had been in a number of engage- ments. In the West he held a position upon General Fremont's staff, with the rank of Major. While at Jef- ferson City, by permission of the General, he had organized a battalion to act as scouts and rangers, composed of two companies of the Third Illinois Cavalry, under Captains Fairbanks and Kehoe, and a company of Irish dragoons, Captain Naughton, which had been recruited for Mulli- gan's brigade, but had not joined Mulligan in time to be at Lexington. Major White went to Georgetown, in advance of the whole army, from there marched sixty-five miles in one night to Lexington, surprised the garrison, liberated a number of Federal officers, who were there wounded and prisoners, and captured the steamers Avhich Price had taken from Mulligan. From Lexington White came by way of Warrensburg to Warsaw. During this long and hazardous expedition the Prairie Scouts had been with- out tents, and depended for food upon the supplies they could take from the enemy. Major White did not remain at Warsaw to recruit his health, seriously impaired by hardship and exposure. He asked for further service, and was directed to report 28 ZAGONTl'S FAMOUS CHARGE. himself to General Sie.crel, by ■whom he was ordered to make a reconnoissance in the direction of Springfield. After a rapid night-march, Zagonyi overtook White, and assumed command of the whole force. White was quite ill, and, unable to stay in his saddle, was obliged to follow in a carriage. In the morning, yielding to the re- quest of Zagonyi, he remained at a farmdiouse where the troop had halted for refreshment, it being arranged that he should rest an hour or two, come on in his carriage with a small escort, and overtake Zagonyi before he reached Springfield. The Prairie Scouts numbered one hundred and thirty, so that the troop was nearly three hundred strong. The day was fine, the road good, and the little column pu5jhed on merrily, hoping to surprise the enemy. When within two hours' march of the town, they met a Union farmer of the neighborhood, who told Zagonyi that a large body of rebels arrived at Springfield the day be- fore, on their way to reinforce Price, and that the enemy were now two thousand strong. Zagonyi Avould have been justified if he had turned back. But the Guard had been made the subject of much malicious remark, and had brought ridicule upon the General. Should they retire now, a storm of abuse would burst upon them. Zagonyi, therefore, took no counsel of prudence. He could not hope to defeat and capture the foe, but he might surprise them, dash into their camp, destroy their train, and, as he expressed it, "disturb their sleep," obtaining a victory which, for its moral effects, would be worth the sacrifice it cost. His daring resolve found unanimous and ardent assent with his zealous fol- lowers. The Union farmer offered to guide Zagonyi by a cir- cuitous route to the rear of the rebel position, and under his guidance he left the main road about five miles from Springfield, After an hour of repose, White set out in pursuit of his lAGONYl'S FAMOUS CHARGE. 29 men, driving his "horses at a gallop. He knew nothing of the change in Zagonyi's plans, and supposed the attack was to be made upon the front of the town. He therefore continued upon the main road, expecting every minute to overtake the column. As he drew near the village, and heard and saw nothing of Zagonyi, he supposed the enemv had left the place and the Federals had taken it Avithout opposition. The approach to Springfield from the north is through a forest, and the village cannot be Been until the outskirts are reached. A sudden turn in the road brought White into the very midst of a strong rebel guard. They surrounded him, seized his horses, and in an instant he and his companion were prisoners. When they learned his rank, they danced around him like a pack of savages, shouting and holding their cocked pieces at his heart. The leader of the party had, a few days before, lost a brother in a skirmish with Wyman's force, and with loud oaths he swore that the Federal Major should die in expiation of his brothel's death. He was about to carry his inhuman threat into execution, Major White boldly facing him and saying, " If my men were here, I'd give you all the revenge you want." At this moment a young officer, Captain Wroton by name — of whom more hereafter — pressed through the throng, and placing himself in front of White, declared that he would protect the prisoner with his own life. The firm bearing of Wroton saved the Major's life, but his cap- tors robbed him and hurried him to their camp, where he remained during the fight, exposed to the hottest of the fire, an excited, but helpless spectator of the stirring events which followed. He promised his generous protector that he would not attempt to escape, unless his men should try to rescue him ; but Captain Wroton remained by his side, guarding him. Making a detour of twelve miles, Zagonyi approached the position of the enemy. They were encamped half a mile west of Springfield, upon a hill which sloped to tha 80 ZAGONTl'S FAMOUS CHARGE, east. Along the northern side of their camp was a broad and well travelled road ; along the southern side, a nar- row lane ran down to a brook at the foot of the hill ; the space between, about three hundred yards broad, was the field of battle. Along the west side of the field, separat- ing it from the county fair ground, was another lane, connecting the main road and the first mentioned lane. The side of the hill was clear, but its summit, which was broad and flat, was covered with a' rank growth of small timber, so dense as to be impervious to horse. The foe were advised of the intended attack. When Major White was brought into their camp, they were preparing to defend their position. As appears from the confessions of prisoners, they had twenty-two hundred men, of whom four hundred were cavalry, the rest being infantry, armed with shot-guns, American rifles, and re- volvers. Twelve hundred of their foot were posted along the edge of the wood upon the crest of the hill. The cavalry was stationed upon the extreme left, on top of a spur of the hill and in front of a patch of timber. Sharpshooters were concealed behind the trees close to the fence along- side the lane, and a small number in some underbrush near the foot of the hill. Another detachment guarded tlieir train, holding possession of the county fair ground, which was surrounded by a high board fence. This position was unassailable by cavalry from the road, the only point of attack being down the lane on the right ; and the enemy were so disposed as to command this ap- proach perfectly. The lane was a blin» retreat" — pointing to the lane at the left. Captain Fair banks was not able to identify the person who gave thia order. It certainly did not come from Zagonyi, who was several hundred yards farther on. Captain Fairbanks executed the order, followed by the second company of Prairie Scouts, under Captain Kehoe. When this move- ment was made, Captain Naughton, with the Third Irish Dragoons, had not reached the corner of the lane. He came up at a gallop, and was about to follow Fair- banks, when he saw a Guardsm.an who pointed in the di- rection in which Zagonyi had gone. lie took this for an order, and obeyed it. When he reached the gap in the fence, made by Foley, not seeing anything of the Guard, he supposed they had passed through at that place, and gallantly attempted to folluw. Thirteen men fell in a few minutes. He was shot in the arm, and dismounted. Lieutenant Connolly spurred into the underbrush, and received two balls through the lungs and one in the loft shoulder. The Dragoons, at the outset more than fifty strong, were broken and dispirited by the loss of their officers, and retired. A sergeant rallied a few, and brought them up to the gap, again, and they were again driven back. Five of the boldest passed down the hill, joined Zago- nyi, and were conspicuous by their valor during the rest of the day. Fairbanks and Kehoe, having gained the rear and left of the enemy's position, made two or three assaults upon detached parties of the foe, but did not join in the main attack, I now return to the Guard. It is forming under the sbelter of the hill. In front, with gentle inclination, rii^e^ a grassy slope, broken by occasional tree stumps. A line ZAGONYI'S FAMOUS CHARQE, 35 of fire upon the summit marks the position of the Rebel intantn% and nearer, and on the top of a lower eminence to the right, stand their horse. Up to this time no Guards- man had struck a blow, but blue coats and bay horses lie thick along the bloody lane. Their time has come. Lieu- tenant ^[athenyi, with thirty men, is ordered to attack the cavalry. With sabres flashing over their heads, the little band of heroes spring towards their tremendous foe. Right upon the centre they charge. The dense mass opens, the blue coats force their way in, and the whole rebel squad- ron scatters in disgraceful flight thi'ough the cornfields in the rear. The bays follow them, sabring the fugitives. Days after, the enemy's horses lay thick among the uncut corn. Zagonyi holds his main body until Mathenyi disap- pears in the cloud of rebal cavahy ; then his voice rises through ihe air: "In open order — charge!"' The line opens out to give play to their sword-arm. Steeds respond to the ardor of their riders, and quick as thought, with thrilling cheers, the noble hearts rush into the leaden torrent which pours down the incline. W ith unabated fire the gallant fellows press through. Their fierce onset is not even checked. The foe do not wait for them — they waver, break, and fly. The Guardsmen spur into the midst of the rout, and their fast-falling swords work a ten-ible revenge. Some of the boldest of the Southrons retreat into the woods, and continue a mur- derous fire from behind trees and thickets. Seven Guard horses fall upon a space not more than twenty feet square. As his steed sinks under him, one of the ofiicers is caught around the shoulders by a grape- vine, and hangs dangling in the air until he is cut down by his friends. The rebel foot are flying in furious haste from the field. Some take refuge in the fair ground, some hurry 86 ZAQONYl'S FAMOUS CHARGE. into the cornfield, but the greater part run along the edge of the wood, swarm over the fence into the road, and hasten to the village. The Guardsmen follow. Zagonyi leads them. Over the loudest roar of battle rings his clarion voice. " Come on, Old Kentuck ! I'm with you ! " And the flash of his sword-blade tells his men where to go. As he approaches a barn, a man steps from behind the door and lowers his rifle ; but, before it has reached the level, Zagonyi's sabre-point descends upon liis head, and his life blood leaps to the very top of the huge barn- door. The conflict now rages through the village— in the public square and along the streets. Up and down the Guards ride in squads of three or four, and wherever they see a group of the enemy charge upon and scatter them. It is hand to hand. No one but has a share in the fray. There was at least one soldier in the Southern ranks. A young officer, superbly mounted, charges alone upon a large body of the Guard, lie passes through the line unscathed, killing one man. He wlieels, charges back, and again breaks through, killing another man. A third time he rushes upon the Federal line, a score of sabre-points confront him, a cloud of bullets fly around him, but he presses on until he reaches Zngonyi — he presses his pistol so close to the Major's side that he feels it, and draws convulsively back ; the bullet passes through the front of Zagonyi's coat, who at the instant runs the daring rebel through the body ; he falls, and the men, thinking their commander hurt, kill him with half a dozen wounds. '' He was a brave man," said Zagonyi afterwards, "and I did wish to make him prisoner." Meanwhile it has grown dark. The foe have left the village, and the battle has ceased. The assembly is Bounded, and the Guard gathers in the Plaza. Not more ZAGONYI'S FAMOUS CnAROE. St tTian eiuhtj mounted men appear; the rest are killed, wounded, or unhorsed. At this time one of the most characteristic incidents of tlie affair took place. Just before the charge, Zagonyi directed one of his buglers, a Frenchman, to sound a signal. The bugler did not seem to pay any attention to the order, but darted off with Lieutenant Mathenyi. A few moments after- wards he was observed m another part of the field vigor- ously pursuing the flying infantry. His active form was always seen in the thickest of the fight. When the line was formed in the Plaza, Zagonyi no- ticed the bugler, and approaching him said, " In the midst of the battle you disobeyed my order. You are unwor- thy to be a member of the Guard. I dismiss you," The bugler showed his bugle to his indignant com- mander — the mouthpiece of the instrument Avas shot away. He said, " The mouth was shot off'. I could not bugle viz mon bugle, and so I bugle viz mon pistol and sabre. It is unnecessary to add the brave Frenchman was not dismissed. I must not forget to mention Sergeant Hunter, of the KentQcky company. His soldierly figure never failed to attract the eye, in the ranks of the Guard. He had served in the regular cavalry, and the Body Guard had profited greatly from his skill as a drill-master. He lost three horses in the fight. As soon as one was killed, he caught another from the rebels. The third horse taken by him in this way he rode into St. Louis. The sergeant slew five men. "I won't speak of those I shot," said he — " another may have hit them ; but those I touched with my sabre I am sure of, because I felt them." At the beginning of the charge he came to the extreme right, and took position next to Zagonyi, whom he fol- lowed closely through the battle. The Major seeing him, said : — 33 ZAGONYl's FAMOUS CHARGE. " Why are 3^ou here, Sergeant Hunter? Your place is with your company on the left." " I kind o' wanted to be in front," was the answer. " What could I say to such a man ?" exclaimed Zago- nyi, speaking of the matter afterwards. There was hardly a horse or rider among the survivors that did not bring away some marlc of the fray. I saw one animal with no less than seven wounds — none of them serious. Scabbards were bent, clothes and caps pierced, pistols injured. I saw one pistol from which the sight had been cut as neatly as it could have beea done by machinery. A piece of board a few inches long was cut from a fence on the field, in which there were thirty-one shot holes. It was now nine o'clock. The wounded had been carried to the hospital. The dismounted troopers were placed in charge of them— in the double capacity of nurses and guards. Zagonyi expected the foe to return every minute. It seemed like madness to try and hold the town with his small force, exhausted by the long march and desperate fight. He therefore left Springfield, and retired before morning twenty-five miles on the Bolivar road. Captain Fairbanks did not see his commander after leaving the column in the lane at the commencement of the engagement. About dusk he repaired to the prairie, and remained there within a mile of the village until midnight, when he followed Zagonyi, rejoining him in the morning. To return to Major White. During the conflict upon the hill, he was in the forest near the front of the rebel line. Here his horse was shot under him. Captain Wroton kept careful watch over him. When the fiight began he hurried White away, and, accompanied by a squad of eleven men, took him ten miles into the country. They stopped at a farm-house for the night. White dis- covered that their host was a Union man. ZAGONYl'S FAMOtrs CHARGE. S? Tlis parole having expired, he took advantage of the momentary absence of his captor to speak to the farmer, telling him who he was, and asking him to send for assistance. The countryman mounted his son upon his swiftest horse, and sent him for succor. The party lay down by the fire, White being placed in the midst. The rebels were soon asleep, but there v/as no sleep for the Major. lie listened anxiously for the footsteps of his rescuers. After long, weary hours, he heard the tramp of horses. He arose, and walking on tiptoe, cautiously stepping over his sleeping guards, he reached the door and silently un- fastened it. The Union men rushed into the room and took the astonished Wroton and his followers prisoners. At daybreak White rode into Springfield at the head of his captives and a motley band of Home Guards. He found the Federals still in possession of the place. As the officer of the highest rank he took command. His garrison consisterELESS SPY. 91 ^^nrfreesboroug^^. That same night our man reported ibis fact to the Federal commander, described the mes- senger and Avhat route he would take, kc. The informa- tion was telegraphed at once to Nashville, Gallatin, and Bowling Green, and a force was sent from each of those posts to intercept the messenger. They failed to appre- hend him — which, however, proved of no consequence, as the battles of Stone River were fought and Bragg was on liis retreat from Murfreesborough by the time Morgan could have received the orders. Our spy was a brave man: yet during the last three days of his service he was most sensible of its peril. To pass between hostile lines in the lone hours of the night — for he did not wait for daylight — to be halted by guer- rillas and scouts and pickets, with guns aimed at him, and, finally, to meet and satisfy the anxious, keen-eyed, heart-searching rebel officers as well as our own, was a mental as well as physical demand that could not long be sustained. While proceeding upon his last expedi- tion, the author met the nameless one upon a by-road. We halted our horses, drew near, and conversed a few seconds in private, while our attendants and companions moved on. He was greatly exhausted and soiled in appearance — his clothing having been rained upon and splashed by muddy water, caused by hard riding, and which had dried upon him. He said he was about to try it once more, and, though he had been so often and so successfully, 3'-et he feared detection and its sure result, the bullet or the halter. He had been unable, amid the hurry and excitement, to make some final dis- position of his affiairs. He gave us a last message to Bend to his wife and children in case it became necessary ; and he also desired a promise — most freely given — that we would attend to the settlement of his account with our general for services recently rendered. Thus con- cluding, he wrung our hand most earnestly, and putting spurs to his fresh and spirited animal, dashed off upon A DARING DEED. his mission. Twenty hours afterwards we were relieved of our anxious forebodings bj bis safe and successful I'eturn. The price paid him for his labors was well earned, and to our cause was a most profitable invest- ment. A DAEING DEED. Captain Spencer, aid to General Wool, received infor- mation from two ladies who went from Norfolk to Fort- ress Monroe with a flag of truce, that near midnight a six-oared boat' was to leave Norfolk for Eichmond with money for the payment of rebel soldiers. He requested permission of Major-General Wool to attempt their cap- ture, and was told not to place too much confidence in the information received. Nevertheless, permission was given, and selecting two good oarsmen on whom he could rely, with their oars muffled, he started at dark and awaited the coming of the enemy's boat. He had pre- viously given direction to his men to pull directly for the boat, and on the moment of striking to " back water" instantly. About midnight the boat was heard approaching, and taking his station in the bows with a nine-inch shell in his hands, he gave the order to " give way." The moment his bows struck the rebel boat, he threw the shell into the middle of it, and was himself drawn back, luckily receiving no injury from the explosion. Not so the boat and occupants, however, the former of which was broken in two, and the latter were scattered in all directions in the water, not, however, before discharging their' pistols at him, two balls going through his cap, and three per- forating his coat. The men were then told that if they submitted quietly they would be saved, otherwise he would leave them to their fate. They preferred the former, and arming him- THE IRISH SENTINEL. 93 self witli his pistol in one hand, and a dirk (taken by him at the Battle of Bull Ran from a "secesh") in the other, he took them in his boat one by one, handcuffing them as they Avere pulled in. In addition to which, from the stern of the enemy's boat, which floated, he took eleven hundred dollars in gold, and five thousand dollars in their worthless paper money. It was with some difficulty that he reached the Fort, the gunwale of the boat being almost level with the water with its increased freight. WOULDN'T SELL. During the fighting at Fort Donelson a young man came strolling down to a transport, with one arm ampu- tated, and in the well hand holding three chickens which he had captured. A steward of one of the boats stepped up to him, and asked him if he wanted to sell the chickens. He looked at the chickens for a little while and replied, " Well, no ; I had so much trouble in catching the d — d things, I believe I'll eat 'em myself;" and off he went with his foivl prisoners. THE lEISH SENTINEL. A son of the Green Isle, a member of Gillam's Mid- dle Tennessee Regiment, while stationed at Nashville, was detailed on guard duty on a prominent street of that city. It was his first experience at guard mounting, and he strutted along his beat, apparently with a full appre- ciation of the dignity and importance of las position. As a citizen approached, he shouted — " Halt ! W ho comes there ?" " A citizen," was the response. " Advance, citizen, and give the countersign." 94 THE HOLLOW-HEELED BOOT. " I haven't the countersign ; and, if I had, the demand for it at this time and place is something very strange and unusual," rejoined the citizen. " An' by the howly Moses, ye don't pass this way at all till ye say Bunker Hill," was Pat's reply. The citizen, appreciating the " situation," advanced, and cautiously whispered in his ear the necessary words, "Eight 1 Pass on." And the wide-awake sentinel re- sumed his beat. GOOD FOE THE BELGIANS! A good story is told of an Illinois Colonel who was heard praising the Belgian musket. Says he — "In pla- toon firing with the Belgian musket, I can tell what I cannot with any other arm, and that is, how many pieces have been fired." " How can you tell that ?" " Oh ! I count the men on the ground. It never deceives me. It is 'fire and /a/? hack\ifiatr One of these Belgian muskets wil-1 kick like a mule, and burst with the greatest facility. Several soldiers have been killed in tb.is way. The bayonet too is a no- velty — a soft iron affair, apparently designed to coil round, the enemy as it is introduced, thus taking him prisoner. THE HOLLOW-HEELED BOOT. In the earlier days of the rebellion there lived in South- eastern ^[issouri one Ogilvie Byron Young. He was a wild, graceless scamp, rich in the blood of his ancestors, but poor in purse. To the pride of Lucifer he added the courage of Falstaflf and the honor of lago. A scion of Virginia's aristocracy, he deemed himself a statesman from birth and an orator by nature. Showy in manner THE HOLLOW-IIEELED BOOT. 95 and superficial in attainments, he could act the accom- plished gentleman or the bullying braggart as best suited the occasion. Vain, reckless, and boastful, he was scorned as a visionary enthusiast by some, feared as a bold, bad man by others, but admired as a genuine Southern cava- lier of the old school by those who knew him least. "Wildly imaginative, but immensely unpractical, he plunged madly into- the first waves of rebellion, and, while Sterling Price was yet a Union general and Clai- borne F. Jackson a loyal Governor, dared to avow and advocate opinions of the most ultra-Southern character. Fine-drawn theoretical arguments on the right and duty of secession were spread before the people of the State, in column after column of letters published in newspapers and to which was attached the full signature, " Ogilvie Byron Young." The rough back-woodsmen of his county were momentarily swayed by his presumptuous clamor, and he was sent to the first Missouri State Convention. Here he was the only member that took strong ground in favor of secession per se, gaining thereby not a little notoriety. The State did not secede; but Ogilvie Byron Young did, and for some months he was not so much as heard from. In the fall of 1861 he was arrested at the Spencer House, Cincinnati, as a spy. In due time an indictment and trial followed ; but, though there was abundant evi- dence of guilt, he escaped conviction by means of some technical informality in the proceedings. He was ordered to leave the city, however, and did so. In the following spring he was found in Covington, Kentucky, under an assumed name, aiding and abetting the rebels b}^ furnish- ing information, and was again arrested. He had been cautioned by some one, it would seem ; for there was found nothing upon him in the way of papers or letters to warrant his detention, and he was again released to again disappear from sight for some months. lu November, 1862, he is again met with, iu Nashville, 96 THE nOLLOW-HEELED BOOT. where lie bad been for some weeks as a paroled prisoner, but acting all the Avhile in his old capacity of smuggler and spy. In this business he seems to have had remark- able success, until his career was fortunately arrested by a combination of circumstances and the watchful shrewd- ness of the army police. About the last of that month Young was introduced to a gentleman who represented himself as a hostage for the return of certain loyal Missis- sippians captured at luka and treated by Price as traitors, contrary to the terms of the cartel between the Federal and Confederate Governments. At first he was shy and suspicious, but was finally convinced that his new acquaintance was really what he purported to be, and heartily entered into all his plans for the advancement of the Confederate cause. As his confidence grew stronger, he remarked that he had been of more benefit to the South, as a spy, than any brigade of rebel soldiers. He had encouraged desertions in the Federal camps, and made out paroles in the names of Morgan and Kirby Smith. The business was getting a little dangerous now, however, and he should get beyond the lines as soon as possible. He would have gone long ago, only that he had expected to be saved the trouble and expense of the trip by the fall of Nashville. Our luka hostage then informed him that Mrs. Major Kanney— wife of ]\[ajor Ranney, of the 6th Texas Regi- ment—was in the city, under his charge, and just returned from Europe, whither she liad been on diplomatic busi- ness for the Confederate Government. She had in her possession very important despatches, and was anxious to get safely through the lines with the'm. Young said, in reply, that he would bring his influence to bear upon the army officials in her favor, but in case she should be searched it would be well to provide for such a contin- gency. There was, he said, in the city a man by the name of Thompson, ostensibly a citizen, but really a rebel lieutenant in Bragg's army, and now acting as a spy. THE HOLLOW-HEELED BOOT. 9T fie had mhde the trip through the lines ten or twelve times, and could do it again. He was now engaged in drawing a map of the fortifications around Nashville and procuring information as to the numbers of the troops, &c., which should be forthcoming in due season. These secret despatches of Mrs. Rannev's together vvith this map and other papers, could be hidden in the heel of a boot, which would be made for them by a bootmaker of the city in the employ of the Confederate Government. His name was C. J. Zeutzschell, and his shop was on Union Street. This plan was agreed to, and Young was to assist in the execution of it ; in return for which, he was to be placed in a high position at Richmond. Young's reputa- tion, however, was not of the best, and the bootmaker would do nothing for him, when called upon, without first making inquiries among his friends and consulting with our hostage, for whom the boots were wanted. Accordingly, Zeutzschell came to his room one evening and said that Young had been to his house and wished him to make a pair of boots and to secrete important documents in them so as to defy detection. He had no confidence in Young's honor, and did not wish to do it for him. He knew him as identified with the Confed- erates, indeed, but he was a bad man, low in his habits and associates, never had any money, &c. He (Zeutzschell) had been inquiring of the/V«>n(/s of the South — undoubted Becessionists — concerning him (our luka hostage), and was convinced that he was a gentleman and a true Southerner. He would do anything to promote the cause — money was no object — he would lay down his life for it. If Young could be thrown off the track, he would make the boots and secrete in them a ma]) of the fortifi- cations about Nashville. His brother-in-law, Harris, would go out and see if any new ones had been erected. If not, he had a perfect plan of them in his head, to prove which he immediately sat down and drafted one. Ho 7 98 PRESENCE OF MIND. remarked that he had recently sent several such to General Morgan. He had made the boots for all the spies in the same way, and not one had ever been detected. He had sent valuable information in a common pipe, " Can you get a pass for your man ?" asked our hostage. " Certainly," was the reply ; " as many as you like. There is a German at head-quarters who steals blank passes for me, and I fill them up myself. I give him whiskey for them." He would like to go South too, he said, in conclusion. He could describe the fortifications so much better than in a map. Both parties being satisfied, an agreement for the boots was made. Zeutzschell was to get the exact distances of the defences, the number and disposition of the troops, «kc., and secrete them, together with Mrs. Eanney's despatches, in the heel of one of the boots. This he did, according to promise : the boots were made and delivered on the evening appointed. Instead of reaching Generals Bragg and Morgan, as intended, however, the maps, papers, boots, owner, maker, and spy, suddenly found themselves in the hands of the army police, much to the astonishment and chagrin of all parties concerned. Zeutz- schell and Young were sent to the military prison at Alton. PEESENCE OF MIND. The account given by Capt. Strong, of the Second Wis- consin Kegiment, of his escape from rebel captors, will be read with interest. It is as follows : — As I was passing through a thicket, I was surrounded by six rebel soldiers — four infantry and two cavalry. The footmen were poorly dressed and badly armed, having old rusty altered muskets. The cavalry were well mounted and well armed. PRESENCE OF MIND. 99 Seeing T was caught, I thought it best to surrender at oi.ce. So I said — " Gentlemen, you have me." I was asked various questions as to who I was, where I was going, what regiment I belonged to, &c., all of which I refused to answer. One of the footmen said — " Let's hang the d — d Yankee scoundrel," and pointed to a convenient limb. Another said, "No, let's take him to camp and hang him there." One of the cavalry, who seemed to be the leader, said, " We will take him to camp." They then marched me through an open place — two footmen in front, two in the rear, and a cavalry man on each side of me. I was armed with two revolvers and my sword. After going some twenty rods, the sergeant, who was on my right, noticing my pistols, commanded me to halt and give them up, together with my sword. I said, " Certainly, gentlemen," and immediately halted. As I stopped, they all filed past me, and, of course were in front. We were at this time in an open part of the woods, but about sixty yards to the rear was a thicket of under- growth. Thus everything was in my favor. I was quick of foot and a passable shot. Yet the design of escape was not formed until I brought my pistol pouches to the front part of my body, and my hands touched the stocks. The grasping of the pistols suggested my cocking them as I drew them out. This I did, and the moment I got command of them I shot down the two footmen nearest me — about six feet off — one with each hand. I immedi- ately turned and ran toward the thicket in the rear. The confusion of my captors was apparently so great that I had nearly reached cover before shots were fired at me. One ball passed through my left cheek, passing out of my mouth. Another one — a musket ball — went through my canteen. Immediately upon this volley, the two cavalry sepa- 100 AN INGENIOrs DODGE. rated, one to my right, and the other to my left, to cut off my retreat — the remaining two footmen charging directly toward me. I turned when the horsemen got up, and fired three or four shots ; but the balls flew wild. I .still ran on — got over a small knoll, and had nearly regained one of our pickets, when I was headed off by both of the mounted men. AN INGENIOUS DODGE. Upon one occasion, when Rosecrans had " shut down" upon passes for officers' and soldiers' wives, a member of the former class telegraphed from Louisville to General Garfield, Chief of Staff", that her husband, an artillery of&cer, was very sick— perhaps dying — and that she must see him, and requested the general to authorize the issuing to her of a pass to Murfreesborough. The general's heart was touched ; but knowing nothing of the matter, he re- lerred it to Col. Barnett, Chief of Artillery. The colonel, 100, sympathized with the distressed wife, and kindly sent an orderly out to the husband's battery to inquire mto his condition, that the devoted wife might be advised chereof. Speedily the husband himself came in, wdth as- tonishment depicted in his face. Something's the matter, somewhere or somehow, he doesn't exactly know what. " IIow do you do ?" asks the artillery chief. "First-rate, sir." " Where have you been of late?" " At my battery — on duty." *' Have you not been sick lately ?" ' No, indeed ! Never had better health in my life." " Quite sure of it, are you ?" " Of course I am." "You have been on duty all tbe time? Haven't you been absent from your command at all?" •• Not a day." "old GAP," OF TENNESSEE. 101 " Perfectly well now— no consumption, liver-complaint, fever, spleen, or Tennessee quickstep ? eh ?"' " Certainly not. Why do you ask ?" In reply to this query the telegram of his anxious wife was handed to him. He read it, looked down and pon- dered for a moment in silent wonder at the ingenuit}^ of woman, then called for a bottle of wine, and a general "smile" circulated among the bystanders. The loving wife was informed by telegraph tliat her husband was in no danger — in fact, was doing remarkably well. Thus she was circumvented for a time. Yet to " vindicate the truth of history," we must add that she gained her point in some other way — what Yankee wife will not ? — and made her visit successfully. "OLD GAP," or TENITESSEE. We are just below the Virginia State line in Eastern Tennessee, exactly where the two States touch like a pair of wedges, each pressing against the other. The time is early March, and the party, seven hardy, hard-fisted, and partially armed men, seated about a camp fire. There is nothing marked in the faces or persons of six of the party, but the seventh is a human speciality and will bear description. John Davis stood " six foot four without boots," accord- ing to his own declaration. At the time of our notice, not less than seventy winters had passed over his head, whitening his hair and bending his form somewhat, but putting no dimness in his eye, nor yet taking any strength from his hand. The father of John Davis had j:>een one of the early emigrants from North Carolina, and in the very heart of the wilderness of East Tennessee the boy }iad been cradled and reached maturity. It was the boast of John that his father Avas the first white man that had 102 "OLD GAP," OP TENNESSEE. passed through Cumberland Gap, and so firmly did the old woodsman look upon this as a distinction, that when the title of " Cumberland Gap " was bestowed upon him and used instead of his own name, John felt honored in the bestowal. In time this became shortened to " Gap," and in further time, when age crept on, " Old Gap " was as well known through all the section as the spot from whence the sobriquet was derived. " A-a-a-ow !" stretched one of the men with a long yawn. " The boys are a long time comin' in. Reckon they must be pickin' up suthin'." "D'know what they kin pick up out o' that God-for- saken place," responded another. " Wish to thunder they'd pick up a little whiskey," was the sullen remark of a third, " my throat's as dry as stubble for a drink, an nuthin' but water." " What did Gord. Hopper say to you, Smith ?" asked the old man of the one who spoke last. " Say ! why he said if we'd lay over for to-day in this 'ere hollow, he'd be in afore night and fetch us what we wanted. Now I d'know whether he reckons on what we want or no, but if he fetches all I want he'll be right smart." "Did he say he'd fetch down any more of the boj^s?" was the old man's question. "Yes, s-i-r, that's the main pint. He's gwine to bring down all the boys to Jonesville that'll come, and maybe some that'll not come, too." The old man made no response to this, only to look long and earnestly at the speaker, as though to solve the meaning of every word uttered, lie turned quickly to the other men and spoke — " Wal-, boys, if I'm to be captain, then I say that we'll get out of this at dayliglit to-morrow morning, no matter whether Gord. Hoy)per comes or no. Is that so, boys ?" A hearty "Yes," from all hands told the old man that ho had spoken according to their wishes, when at the very "old gap," of TENNESSEE. 108 moment of utterance a long sliout was lieard from the distanca, and every man was on his feet in an instant. " That's Gord. Hopper's voice," said one of the party. "Gord. Hopper be blowed," answered another; " he never opened his jaws as naturally as that since he was born." " You Jake," said the old man, " run up to the edge o' the hill and see if ye kin look down t'wards the river. If all's right come back ; if thar's anything wrong, shoot offyer iron an' run down towards Clinton, and we'll jine ye afore ye get thar." The man was away in a moment, while the rest of the party listened earnestly. In a very few minutes Jake was seen coming back swinging his rifle lazily and whistling. " Gord. Hopper and some other fellers, and a woman," v/as his answer to the inquiring looks, as he took his seat by the camji fire. " A woman !" was Old Gap's questioning exclamation as he turned in the direction the party was coming; but before there was an explanation they were seen winding around the hill, and in a moment more were in camp. They were six — five men and a woman -the last moutited on a sorry jade of a horse, and sharing the room upon his back with a well-filled bag, slung pannier-fashion with a 10-gallon keg. The old man stood aloof as the party filed in, and, leaning on his rifle, listened with a lowering brow to the greetings and jibes that passed between his men and the new-comers. " Why Gord.," said he whom we have called Smith, "what in thunder did you want to fetch Jim Blunt'.s da'ter along for? Couldn't ye go down to Dixie for a spell without yer gal? An' that 'ere suckin' brother of hers, too; )''e can't make Secesh o' him — anyhow, tain't in the blood. The old man's half abolilioner, an' I guess the gal an' boy ain't much better." " That's none o' your busine^fs," drawled out Hopper, 104 "old gap," op TENNESSEE. sullenly ; " I brouglit 'em along because I wan': to keep ^eni under my eye. I ain't listed yet, Zack Smith, an' I don't mean to let anybody tell me what to do until I have." " Wal, there now, there's no use getting mad 'bout it; but you see, Gord., everybody knows that you've been sweet on Jim Blunt's gal a long while, an' if you've taken her off now without her will — an' I reckon you have by the looks of her face— there's going to be tight work of it. The old man ain't going to give it up so ; an' if I reckon right, there's 'Bimelech Puitiy she's engaged to, an' he's some too." "D — n 'Bimelech Pardy; I'll spurt my knife 'cross her wizen afore ever he shall have her." " Wal, I've said my say, an' all I've got to say besides is this : I don't believe our fellers reckon on fightin' any about a woman. They're goin' out to fight for the South, End don't want any private qu'erls on hand." '•' Wal, all I've got to say is this— that if you don't Avant to fight for me, Zack Smith, you can go to " " Whew ! hold yer horses, Gord. Don't let's come to it rash. There's time enough yet." This ended the colloquy, and both parties turned away with a mutual look of disgust. The girl still sat upon the horse, looking around inquiringly from face to face, as though trying to spell out friends from foes. The brother had not yet released his hold upon the bridle, but stood as though in momentary expectation of an order to go forward. Hopper moved, after his conversation with Smith, direct to the spot where sat Ellen Blunt. She had watched hi.s talk with Smith, and knew both that she was the subject of it and that there had been a disagreement. A ray of hope shot across her heart, as she thought that perhaps even among those who were supposed to be working in concert with him, all were not the friends of the man who had brought her there. A bitter look of "old gap," of TENNESSEE. 105 hatred covered her pretty face as he offered his hand and said — " Come, Ilattie, light down !" "For what?" " For what ! why, for rest and supper, to be sure. Your journey's ended for to-day." "See here, Gordon Hopper, perhaps you don't know what you've been doing. If so, I count it my duty to tell you. There may be no law for Old Virginia now, but the day will come when you'll be afraid to put your foot back on her soil for the work you've done this day." " Oh come ! light down, Ilattie, and don't talk. There's no law here, you know. I wan't agoing to leave Jones- ville without you. P'haps some o' those Yankee sogers that'll be swarming in thar soon might have carried you off, anyhow." " Yes, and I'd rather be carried off or butchered by those same Yankees, that you arc so fond of talking about, ten times over, than to be ten minutes in the presence of a traitor and a rebel," and the girl's dark eyes flashed de- fiantly on the men that stood loitering around. "Haven't you got your brother with you?" resumed Hopper; "what do vou want more'n that? Wait a bit, an' he'll make just as good a Confederate soger as the best of 'em." " Never !" shouted the boy. " That's a lie, Gord. Hopper, and you know it. You can take my heart's blood, but you'll never make me fight for your cursed Stars and Bars. Hurrah for the Stars and Stripes!" A laugh went up from the men at the vehemence of the boy, and at this moment Old Gap came to the side of the girl. " Come, gal, you'll have to light down for the time, any- how. We must make the best of a bad bargain. I know your father, an' I won't let an}^ harm come to ye, if I can help it, an' I reckon I kin help it," he said, turning with a menacing look to Hopper. 10(5 "old GAP," OF TENNESSEE. The girl put her hand in the old man's, and sprang to the ground, saying as she did so — " I know you, Gap, and if my father ain't mistaken in you, I shall never meet harm at your hands, but I don't see how an honest man like yourself came to be mixed up with this set." " Wal, ye see, gal, we can't all think alike. Now if it so be as yer father b'Jieves in the North an' the Aboli- tioners, an' I don't, that ain't agoin' to make either on us any wuss, is it? " " You are all misled through 3^our own ignorance, and are going to fight for a bad cause, and more than that, you'll all be whipped, too." The men all stood around in silence, gazing upon the girl, whose beauty added to her words of fire kept them spellbound. She knew it, and determined to improve the opportunity. " Do you call yourselves men, and lend your aid to drag a Avoman from her liome, for no other end than to help a wretch like Gord. Hopper ? I tell you, every one, as I have told him, that you can drag me over the face of the earth, and treat me worse than ever woman was treated before, and yet I shall say as I do now, I'll never marry Gordon IIo]iper or desert my faith in the flag." A shout of admiration went up from the men, all but Hopper, who stood scowling furiously on the whole scene. Once more spoke Old Gap — " Wal, gal, I think ye'll have to mess with me to-night, and in the morning we'll see what kin be done. Now then, will you or Gap be cook ?" Like a tiger just unbound sprang Gordon Hopper into the midst of the little circle. " Look'ee here, boys, I want to know at won'st who's captain of this gang. If that old man is, don't count me in, I've stood it long enough. You've all taken 3^our jaw about it, and listened to what that girl has to say ; now you kin hear me. To-morrow mornin' I'm goin' on " OLD OAF," OF TENNESSEE. 107 towards Nasliville, and I'm goin' to carry that gal witli me, an' I'm d— d if I wouldn't like to see the man that's goin' to stop me." Old Gap had seated himself on a log when he had in- vited Ilattie Blunt to be cook, and had listened to this harangue from his seat. When it ended, and the threat was uttered, the old man was on his feet in an instant. There was no stoop in his back now. His brown, long hand went straight to the long hunting-knife in his belt, and his lips closed firmly for an instant before he spoke — "I'm the man, stranger! I'm the man that says that gal '11 never go to Nashville Avith you without her bein' W'illin'. As to who's captain of this gang, I don't care a continental d — n ; that's for the boys to say. But I've got da'ters myself, and they've got da'ters of their own, an' I don't mean to let anything happen to Jim Blunt's gal but what's right." Hopper looked around upon the faces about him, bnt the expression did not satisfy him, and from them to that of the old man, which had by no means a pleasing look. His fingers had been playing nervously with the hammer of his rifle, but gradually they closed over it, and his eyes dropped. "Oh, put away yer shootin-iron, boy. The time hasn't come yet for you to think of shootin' Old Gap. Wait till ye git into a skrimmage where 3'e kin do it safe, be- cause we're both fightin' on the same side. Then I wouldn't trust ye a bit." Hopper bit his lip, looked up with a sudden glance of fire, and then turned away and walked into the wood. Hattie had been busy during these last words, assisted by her brother, in preparing the evening meal, and at the same time paying close attention to all that was said. The old man cast a sudden glance upon the dozen faces that stood about the camp-fire, and from them to the girl who Avas bending over its blaze. There was some- thing in the look of Old Gap that spoke command, and 108 "old gap/' op TENNESSEE. as quickly as lie glanced around tlic old man knew that his earnestness had taken its proper effect, and that he could depend upon the men to aid him in the promise he had given before Hattie to defend her. " Who was along with Gord. Hopper when he took this gal and boy ?'' was his question. Three of the party answered. " Yer a nice set o' boys," said the old man, with a sneer. " Ye might better been at suthin else. You've let Gord. Hopper use you to do what, maybe, may bring ye into trouble, allowin' ye should ever want to go back to Jones- ville." The three men hung their heads under the rebuke, and soon followed the example of their leader by sneaking oft" and hanging about the skirts of the party. The supper was served as only the hands of a woman could have served it with the rough culinary conve- niences of the woodmen, and the party settled for the night's rest. It was Old Gap's turn now to play the gal-_ lant, for Hattie Blunt refused the oftered attentions of the rest. The old man gathered and made the girl a bed of dried leaves, on the leeward side of a great log, and his blanket, in spite of all her assurances that she did not need it, was the one that covered her during sleep. The old man had been living the life of a hunter both of " bar" and " Ingin" too long not to know the importance of sleeping with one eye open, and of such a nature were his slumbers this night. Once or twice the old fellow raised himself stealthily to a sitting posture, grasped his rifle, and peered out into the darkness, and then, counting the sleeping figures in the group, he would settle un- easily down into his place. With the breaking of dawn in the east every one sprang to their feet, each feeling that the next hour was fraught with action. Gord. Hopper had declared that he was going to Nash- ville, and that he should take Hattie Blunt and her "OLD GAP," OF TENNESSEE. 109 brother Avith liim, while Old Gap had as emphatically declared that the girl should not go a step without lier own consent. Tlie coming struggle between the two, for struggle it certainly was to be, whether of words or blows, and the uncertainty as to the sympathies of the men for one side or the other, sat uneasily on the faces of all, but especially on those of Ilattie and her brother. The breakfast was despatched in silence, and scarce swallowed when the old man came to his feet with a quick movement that meant work. "Now, then, boys, for the march! Whoever's goin' through the Gap t'wards Nashville, pick up yer traps. 'Twon't pay to wait yere till some of these Yankees sweep down on us and send us up North to spend the summer in prison barracks. You, George Blunt, pick up your traps and take yer sister back to Jonesville, and mind ye don't say one word more'n ye kin help 'bout this scrape, d'ye hear ?" Once more the fingers of Gord. Hopper played uneasily with the hammer of his rifle as he stepped up to the centre of the circle. " Look'ee here, old man," he said, fixing his eye steadily in that of Gap's, " I told ye last night enough to keep ye from meddling with my business. D'ye think I'm a child that ye should play with me ? I tell ye again what I told ye then. I'm goin' on to Nashville, and I'm goin' to take that gal and her brother with me." Ending this sentence he gave a spring backward, bringing his rifle to his shoulder as he did so, and then finished with — " And now let me see the man that's going to prevent me." " Here he is !" shouted a stalwart figure, breaking with a bound through the bush by his side, and followed by a dozen others, sending with one blow of his fist Gord. Hopper one way and his rifle another, " Here's the man that gives you the lie, you villain ! Here's the man that'3 110 "old GAP," OF TENNESSEE. going to prevent you, and mark it on your carcass, too. And you, too, what kind of men are ye to let such scum as that abuse an old man and ill treat a woman in your presence ? D'ye call yourselves men, eh ?" " Hold hard, Bim. Purdy, don't abuse the boys for what they couldn't help. The boys hadn't a chance of 'spress- ing a 'pinion on the matter when you brushed in." " Oh, I know all about it. This ain't the first time I've been about ye. I tracked 'em down here last night, and found you too many for us, and I sent over to Taze- well for these boys, I was around you last night when you sat up with your rifle cocked looking for the steps in the bush. And now what's all this party about? I wouldn't ask, Gap, but that I see you among them, and as I have never yet heard that you have been engaged in anything dishonest, I can't believe that the men are rebels and traitors." " Hold hard, 'Bimelech Purdy, both sides can say that. Maybe they might call you a rebel and a traitor for fightin' on the side of the North." " I'm not fightin' on the side of the North. I'm fight- ing for both sides. I'm fighting to save the South from the consequences of her own doing." This seemed a new idea to the old man, and he stopped to consider it, Purdy saw his advantage and followed it up, " Have you ever thought. Gap, of what a terrible thing it would be should the South succeed in her evil doings, and if all the old things that you've been taught to love should be swept away ? New laws, new customs, a new flag, and new terms for old things. Do you ever think of this, and think that you're an old man, with not long to live." " Sartainly, sartainly ! We must expect changes. Life is nothin' but changes, 'Bimelech !" " Aye ; but why not changes for the better rather than "OLD GAP," OF TENNESSEE. Ill tbe worse ? You wouldn't change your rifle for one that couldn't do the same work, would ye, Gap ?" " Sartainly not !" "And then, again, did ye never think ye might bo beaten. Think of the disgrace of that— a whipped trai- tor, a fugitive, fearful to return to his home, to die on the spot where he was born and nurtured !" The old man leaned his chin heavily on the muzzle of his rifle and seemed for a moment lost in thought. At last he looked up and about the circle, and from them to the spot where stood Purdy, surrounded by his friends and Ilattie Blunt clinging to his side, the old man seemed puzzled and waiting for some one to speak. There was a dead silence which he broke with — " D'ye hear that, boys ? I believe its Gospel truth ; I reckon there's been some mistake in this consarn. I didn't mind for goin' in for a bit of a scrimmage ; but if it's comin' to that there — goin' to tear up all the old fixina — then all I've got to say is, Gap isn't one of 'em." A hearty shout went "up from both parties, and Purdy sprang forward to grasp the hand of the old man and shake it heartily. " I was sure," he said, " that old Cumberland Gap Avould never prove false to friend or country. And now, then, boys, who says for Jonesville instead of Nashville? There'll soon be work enough for ye to do there." Another shout from the whole party, and in a few minutes the men who, but an hour before, were ready to be led to overt treason, were on their march northward. " What's come of Gord. Hopper ?" asked one of the men, picking up his rifle that had been thrown down by Purdy's blow, and looking inquiringly around. •' Oh, no matter !" was the response ; " let him go an' jine the Confederate army — that'll be punishment enougli for him. March on, boys ! Three cheers for Old Gap I" 112 GOING THE WHOLE HOG. GOING THE WHOLE HOG Early one morning in 1862, wliile at Farmington. near Corinth, Mississippi, as Brigadier (now Major) General Palmer was riding along his lines to inspect some breast- works that had been thrown up during the previous night, he came suddenly upon some of the boys of Co, I, 27th Illinois Volunteers, who had just shot a two-hundred, pound hog, and were engaged in the interesting process of skinning it. The soldiers were startled ; their chief looked astonished and sorrowful. " Ah ! a body — a corpse. Some poor fellow gone to his last home. Well, he must be buried with military honors. Sergeant, call the officer of the guard." The officer was speedily at hand, and received orders to have a grave dug and the body buried forthwith. The grave was soon prepared, and then the company were mustered. Pall-bearers placed the body of the dead upon a stretcher. The order was given to march, and, with reversed arms and funeral tread, the solemn procession of sixty men followed the body to the grave. Not a word passed nor a muscle of the face stirred while the last rites of sepulture were being performed. The cere- mony over, the general and his stafi" waved their adieux, and were soon lost in the distance. The philosophy of the soldier is usually equal to the emergency. He has read and pondered. Ete now pain- fully realizes that flesh is as grass, and that life is but a shadow. But he thinks of the rast^rrec^^'oti, and his gloom passes away. So with the philosophic boys of Company I, 27th Illinois. Ere their general was fairly seated ut liis own breakfast-table, there was a raising of the dead, and savory pork-steaks were frying in many a camp-paa didn't like it. 113 DIDN'T LTEE IT. During the month of March, 1863, an extensive forag- ing and reconnoitring expedition, comprising several hundred men and teams of Major-General Reynolds's di- vision, went out from Murfreesborough towards Lebanon, through a fertile and well-stocked country, the people of which were mainly intensely rebel. The expedition wa3 very successful, bringing back corn, fodder, poultry, pigs, and cattle innumerable — also some four hundred head of horses and mules, to aid in mounting Colonel Wilder's infantry brigade. While out upon this expedition, the train came to the premises of an active, wealthy, bitter old rebel — :one who had made himself very busy in procuring volunteers for the rebel army, and particularly obnoxious to his Union neighbors by assisting the rebel agents to hunt down conscripts. He looked rather astonished when our ad- vance cavalry was followed off by his horses. The quar- termaster came next, with his mules and the contents of his corn -cribs. When the commissary marched by in charge of the gentleman's extra-fat cattle, "secesh," in great alarm, wanted to know if we were not going to pay for his "goods." " We are not paying money at present to any one," blandly replied the quartermaster. " Well, but you will give me a receipt for them ?" " Certainly, sir ; here are your vouchers already made out." " Secesh" read them, apparently well pleased, until he came to the inexorable words, " to be paid at the close of the war, upon proof of loyalty." " Well, if that is the case," said he, " they may go to the d — 1 ;" and, turning to a couple of his darkies, who were looking on with open mouths, he administered to 8 114 PRATING FOR THE PRESIDENT. them a few vigorous kicks a posteriori, exclaiming, "D — n you, you go too !" A PRACTICAL JOKE. The soldier in his best estate is full of fun. In a tent in the camp of the 11th Indiana Battery, near Murfrees- borough, in the absence of chairs, a rude bench had been constructed by placing a board upon cross-legs. The board was soon found too limber to bear up the crowd which daily enjoyed its comforts, and was, in conse- quence, strengthened by laying another thick plank over it. A roguish sergeant one day removed this top plank, bored a number of auger-holes nearly through the bot- tom board, filled them with powder, laid a train from one to another, prepared his fuse, and then replaced the plank. Shortly after, the bench, as usual, was filled with his un- suspecting comrades, when he reached down and touched the fuse with his lighted cigar. Of course, there was an explosion just about that time, which hoisted the party as would a petard, upsetting the stove and tea-furniture, knocking down the tent, and enveloping all in smoke and dire confusion. PRAYING rOR THE PRESIDENT. In the summer of 1861, a private in one of the regi- ments of the Army of the Potomac was court-martialled for sleeping on his post out near Chain Bridge on the Upper Potomac. He was convicted ; his sentence was death ; the finding was approved of by the General, and the day fixed for his execution. He was a youth of more than ordinary intelligence ; he did not beg for pardon, but was willing to meet his fate. The time drew near ; the stern necessity of war required PRAYING FOR THE PRESIDENT. 115 that an example should be made of some one ; his -was aa aggravated case. But the case reached the ears of the President ; he resolved to save him ; he signed a pardon and sent it out ; the day came. " Suppose," thought the President, " my pardon has not reached him." The telegraph was called into requisition ; an answer did not come promptly. "Bring up my carriage," he ordered. It came, and soon the important state papers were dropped, and through the hot, broiling sun and dusty roads he rode to the camp, about ten miles, and saw that the soldier was saved. He doubtless forgot the incident, but the soldier did not. When the Third Vermont charged upon the rifle- pits before Yorktown the following year the enemy poured a volley upon them. The first man who fell with six bullets in his body, was "VVm. Scott, of company K. Ilis comrades caught him up, and as his life blood ebbed away, he raised to heaven, amid the din of Avar, the cries of the dying, and the shouts of the enemy, a prayer for the President, and as he died he remarked to his comrade that he had shown he was no coward, and not afraid to die. He was interred in the presence of his regiment, in a little grove about two miles to the rear of the rebel fort, in the centre of a group of holly and vines ; a few cherry- trees, in full bloom, are scattered around the edge. In digging his grave, a skull and bones were found, and metal buttons, showing that the identical spot had been used in the Eevolutionary war for our fathers who fell in the same cause. The chaplain narrated the circumstance to the boys who stood around with uncovered heads. He prayed for the President, and paid the most glowing tribute to his noble heart that we have ever heard. The tears started to their eyes as the clods of earth were thrown upon him in his narrow grave, where he lay shrouded in his coat and blanket. 116 THE QUAKERS ON THE WAR-PATH. ITie men separated ; in a few minutes all were engaged in something around the camp, as though nothing had happened unusual ; but that scene will live upon their memories while life lasts ; the calm look of Scott's face, the seeming look of satisfaction he felt still lingered ; and could the President have seen him, he would have felt that his act of mercy had been wisely bestowed. THE QUAKEES ON THE WAK-PATH. " This rebellion has disturbed the deepest fountains of the life of our people — both the good and the bad. It has agitated the serenest waters. Even the members of the Society of Friends have been among the bravest and best contributors to the war. In the field their gallant sons have done all the duties of citizens as nobly as their fathers have performed them in the calmer scenes of domestic and civil life. At one of the regular meetings of the Society of Friends (Orthodox), a committee was proposed to be raised to inquire into and attend to the cases of young men, sons of members, who it was supposed had, in clear violation of all the standard rules of the Society, enlisted for mili- tary service in this dreadful war. It was notorious that a large number of this class had actually shouldered the musket and marched with their regiments ; and it was strongly suspected that many of these boys had actually received the warmest blessings of their demure but none the less heroic mothers, and the inspiring encouragement of gentle sisters, on their departure. But, as the case had been brought up before the meet- ing by some of the strictest Friends, it became necessary to give it the most serious consideration ; and the mem- bers of the committee were duly proposed. The first rose with great dignity, and, with that inimi- table serenity which always characterizes the proceedings THE scout's story. 117 of the Orthodox Quakers, requested to be excused, on the ground that he could not conscientiously serve in that capacity, since, very much to his pain and sorrow, among the young members who had enlisted for the war he had a son. Another member desired to be excused on the ground that, without his knowledge, two of his sons had not only joined the army, but were already in the field. Finally, the third member rose, and stood some momenta without speaking. He was a venerable man : he looked like the patriarch of the solemn assembly. His hair was white, but his cheek looked " like a rose in the snow." "Friends, we in our weakness cannot foresee the pur- poses of the great Father of all things ; nor should we attempt to scrutinize his almighty designs. It becomes my duty to inform you all that my youngest son, iivo of my grandsons, and several of my nephews, have also taken, up arms in the defence of our beloved country ; and I am very much afraid that I could not serve on the committee with any good to our cause." A reverent silence brooded over the assembly, and for a protracted interval the silence remained unbroken. At last the "mover of the motion" rose, and proposed that " the whole matter should be temporarily postponed." THE SCOUT'S STOST. It was in the bleak mountain country of East Ten- nessee ; the evening was growing late, and the camp-fire was smouldering lower and lower, but we still sat round it, for the spell of the scout's marvellous gift of story-telling we were none of us willing to dissolve. Captain Charlie Leighton had been a lieutenant in a Michigan Battery at the commencement of the war, but a natural love of ex- citement and restlessness of soul had early prompted him to seek employment as a scout, in which he soon rose to 118 THE scout's story. unusual eminence. He is a man of much refinement, well educated, and of a "quick inventive brain," The tale I am about to relate is my best recollection of it as it fell from his lips, and if there is aught of elegance in its diction, as here presented, it is all his own. He had been delighting us with incidents of the war, most of which were derived from his own experience, when I expressed a desire to know something of his first attempt at scouting. He willingly assented, took a long pull at my brandy flask, and commenced his yarn ; and I thought that I had never seen a handsomer man than Charlie Leighton the scout, as he carelessly lounged there, with the ruddy gleams of the dying camp-fire occasionally flick- ering over his strongly marked intelligent face, and his curling black hair waving fitfully in the night wind, which now came down from the mountain fresher and chillier. It happened in Western Virginia, said he. I had been personally acquainted with our commander, General R., before the war commenced, and having intimated, a short time previous to the date of my story, that I desired to try my luck in the scouting service — of which a vast deal was required to counteract the guerrillas with which the Blue Ridge fairly teemed at that time — one night, late in the fall of the year, I was delighted to receive orders to report at his head-quarters. The general was a man of few words, and my instructions were brief. •" Listen," said he. " My only reliable scout (Mackworth) was killed last night at the lower ford ; and General F. (the rebel commander) has his head-quarters at the Sed- ley Mansion on the Romney road." " Very well," said I, beginning to. feel a little queer. " I want you to go to the Sedley Mansion," was the cool rejoinder. " To go there ! Why, it's in the heart of the enemy's position !" was my amazed ejaculation. "Just the reason I want it done," resumed the general. " Listen : I attack to-morrow at day-break. F. knows it, THE scout's STORT. 119 or Kalf suspects it, and will mass either on the centre or the left wing. I must know which. The task is thick with danger — regular life and death. Two miles from here, midway to the enemy's outposts, and six paces beyond the second mile-stone., are two rockets propped on the inside of a hollow stump. Mackworth placed them there yes- terday. You are to slip to F.'s quarters to-night, learn what I want, and hurry back to the hollow stump. If he masses on the centre, let off one rocket; if on the left, let off both. This duty, I repeat, abounds with danger. You must start immediately, and alone. Will you go?" Everything considered, t think I voted in the affirm- ative pretty readily, but it required a slight struggle- Nevertheless, consent I did, and immediately left the tent to make ready. It was near ten o'clock when, having received a few additional words of advice from the chief, I set forth on my perilous ride. The country was quite familiar to me, so I had little fear of losing my way, which was no in- considerable advantage, I can tell you. Riding slowly at first, as soon as I had passed our last outpost, I put spurs to mv horse (a glorious gray thorough-bred which the general had lent me for the occasion) and fled down the mountain at a breakneck pace. It was a cool, misty, uncertain night — almost frosty, and the country was wild and desolate. Mountains and ravines were the ruling features, with now and then that diversification of the broomy, irregular plateau, with which our mountain scenery is occasionally softened. I continued my rapid pace with but little caution until I arrived at the further extremity of one of these plateaux. Here I brought up sharply beside a block of granite, which I recognized as the second mile-stone. Dismounting, I proceeded to the hollow stump which the general had intimated, and finding the rockets there, examined them well to make sure of their efficiency — remounted, and was away again. But now I exercised much more caution in mj movements. I rod* 120 THE scout's story. more slowly, kept my horse on the turf at the edge of the road, in order to deaden the hoof-beats, and also short- ened the chain of my sabre, binding the scabbard with my knee to prevent its jingling. Still I was not satisfied, but tore my handkerchief in two, and made fast to either heel the rowel of my spurs, which otherwise had a little tinkle of their own. Then I kept wide awake, with my eyes everywhere at once, in the hope of catching a glimpse of some clew or landmark — the glimmer of a camp-fire— a tent-top in the moonlight, which now began to shine faintly — or to hear the snort of a steed, the signal of a picket — • anything to guide me or to give warning of the lurking foe. But no : if there had been any camp-fires they were dead ; if there had been any tents they were struck. Not a sign — not a sound. Everything was quiet as the tomb. The great mountains rose around me in their mantles of pine and hoods of mist, cheerless and repelling, as if their solitude had never been broken. The moon wasr driving through a weird and ragged sky, with something desolate and solemn in her haggard face that seemed like an omen of ill. And in spite of my efforts to be cheerful, I felt the iron loneliness and sense of danger creep through my flesh and touch the bones. None but those who have actually experienced it can properly conceive of the apprehensions which throng the breast of him, howsoever brave, who knows himself to be alone in the midst of enemies who are invisible. The lion hunter of Abyssinia is encompassed with peril Avhen he makes a pillow of his gun in the desert ; and our own pioneer slumbers but lightly in his new cabin when he knows that the savage, whose monomania is vengeance, is prowling the forest that skirts his clearing. But the lion is not always hungry ; and even the Indian may be conciliated. The hunter confronts his terrible antagonist with something deadlier than ferocity. The hand that levels and the eye that directs the rifled tube are nerved and fired by " the mind, the sj irit, the Promethean spark," THE SCOUTS STORY. 12! wliicli, in this case, is indeed a " tower of strength." And the settler, with promises and alcohol, may have won the savage to himself. But to the solitary scout, at midnight, every turn of the road may conceal a linger on a hair trigger ; every stump or bush may hold a foe in waiting. If he rides through a forest, it is only in the deepest shadow that he dares ride upright ; and should he cross an open glade, where the starlight or moonshine drops freely, he crouches low on the saddle and hurries across, for every second he feels he may be a target. His senses are painfully alive, his faculties strained to their utmost tension. By way of a little episode, I knew a very successful scout, who met his death, however, on the Peninsula, who would always require a long sleep immediately after an expedition of peril, if it had lasted but a few hours, and had apparently called forth no more muscular exertion than was necessary to sit the saddle. But, strange as it may seem, he would complain of overpowering fatigue, and immediately drop into the most profound slumber. And I have been informed that this is very frequently the case. I can only attribute it to the fact that, owing to the extreme and almost abnormal vivacit}' — I think of no better word — of the faculties and senses, a man on these momentous occasions lives twice or tlirice as fast as ordinarily ; and the usual nerve-play and wakefulness of a day and night may thus be concentrated in the brief period of a few hours. But to resuine : I felt to the full this apprehension, this anxiety, this exhaustion, but the knowledge of my posi- tion and the issues at stake kept my blood flowing. T had come to the termination of the last plateau or plnin, when the road led me down the side of a ravine, with a^ prospect ahead of nothing but darkness. Here, too, I was compelled to make more noise, as there was no sod for my horse to tread on, and the road was flinty and rough in the extreme. But I kept on as cautiously as possible. 122 THE scout's story. when suddenly, just at the bottom of the ravine, where the road began to ascend the opposite declivity, I came to a dead halt, confronted by a group of several horsemen, so suddenly that they seemed to have sprung from the earth like phantoms. "Why do you return so slowly?" said one of them, impatiently. " What have you seen ? Did you meet Colonel Craig?" For a moment — a brief one — I gave myself up for lost ; but, with the rapid reflection and keen invention which a desperate strait will sometimes superinduce, I grasped the language of the speaker, and formed my plan accord- ingly. " Why do you return so slowly ?" I had been sent somewhere, then. " What have you seen ?" I had been sent as a spy, then. " Did you meet Colonel Craig ?" Oho ! I thought, / will be Colonel Craig. No, I won't ; I will be Colonel Craig's orderly. So I spoke out boldly— "Colonel Craig met your messenger, who had seen nothing, and advised him to scout down the edge of the creek i'or half a mile. But he dispatched me, his orderly, to say that the enemy appear to be retreating in heavy masses. I am also to convey this intelligence to Gene- ral F." The troopers had started at the tones of a strange voice, but seemed to listen with interest and without sus- picion. " Did the colonel think the movement a real retreat, or •only a feint ?" asked the leader. " He was uncertain," I replied, beginning to feel secure and roguish at the same time ; " but he bade me to say that he would ascertain ; and in an hour or two, if you should Bee one rocket up to the north there, you might conclude that the Yankees were retreating ; if you should see two^ THE bcotjt's stort. 123 tlien you miglit guess that they were not retreating, but stationary, with likelihood of remaining inert for another day." " Good !" cried the rebel. " Do you know the way to the general's quarters ?" " I think I can find it," said I ; " although I am not familiar with this side of the mountain." " It's a mile this side of the Sedley Mansion," said the trooper. " You Avill find some pickets at the head of the road. You must there leave your horse, and climb the steep, when you will see a farm-house, and fifteen minutes' walk toward it will bring you to the general's tent. I Avill go with you to the top of the road." And setting off at a gallop, the speaker left me to follow, which I hesitated not to do. Now, owing to their mistake, the countersign had not been thought of; but the next picket Would not be likely to swallow the same dose of silence, and it was a lucky thing that the trooper led the way, for he would reach them first, and I woukl have a chance to catch the password from his lips. But he passed the picket so quickly, and dropped the precious syllables so indistinctly, that I only caught the first of them — " I'allif^ ■ — while the remainder might as well have been Greek. Tally, tally, tally what? Good God ! thought I, what can it be? Tally, tally — here I am almost up to the pickets —what can it be ? Tallyho ? No, that's English. Tal- leyrand? No, that's French. God help me! Tally, tally — " Tallahassee !" I yelled with the inspiration of de- spair, as I dashed through the picket, and their levelled carbines sank toothless before that wonderful spell — the Countersign. Blessing my stars, and without further mishap, I reached the place indicated by the trooper, which was high up on the side of the mountain — so high that clouds were forming in the deep valley below. Making my bridle fast, I clambered with some difficulty the still 124 THE scout's story. ascending slope on my left. Extraordinary caution waa required. I almost crept towards the farm-house, and soon perceived the tent of the rebel chief. A solitary guard Avas pacing between it and me — probably a hun- dred yards from the tent. Perceiving that boldness was my only plan, I sauntered up to him with as free-and- easy an air as I could muster. " Who goes there ?" " A friend." " Advance and give the countersign." I advanced as near as was safe, and whispered " Talla- hassee," with some fears as to the result. " It's a d — d lie I" said the sentry, bringing his piece to the shoulder in the twinkle of an eye. " That answers the pickets,, but not me." Click, click, went the rising hammer of the musket. I am a dead man, thought I to myself; I am a dead man unless the cap fails. Wonderful, marvellous to re- late, the cap did fail. The hammer dropped with a dull, harmless thug on the nipple. With the rapidity of thought and the stealth of a panther I glided forward and clutched his windpipe, forcing him to his knees, while the gun slipped to the ground. There was a fierce but silent struggle. The fellow could not speak, for my hand on his throat ; but he was a powerful man, with a bowie- knife in his belt, if he could only get at it. But I got it first, hesitated a moment, and then drove it in his mid- rift" to the hilt ; and just at that instant his grinders closed on my arm and bit to the bone. Eestraining a cry with the utmost difficulty, I got in another blow, this time home, and the jaws of the rebel flew apart with a start, for my blade had pressed the spring of the casket. Breathless from the struggle, I lay still to collect my thoughts, and listened to know if the inmates of the tent had been dis- turbed. But no ; a light was shining through the canvas, and I could hear the low murmur of voices from within, which I had before noticed, and which seemed to be those THE scout's story. 125 of a number of men in earnest consultation. I looked at the corpse of the rebel remorsefully. The slouched hat had fallen off in the scuffle, and the pale face of the dead man was upturned to the scant moonlight. It was a young, noble, and exceedingly handsome face, and I noticed that the hands and feet were small and beautifully shaped ; while everything about the body denoted it to have been the mansion of a gallant, gentle soul. Was it a fair fight? did I attack him justly? thought I; and in the sudden contrition of my heart, I almost knelt to the ground. But the sense of my great peril recurred to me, stifling everything else, however worthy. I took off the dead man's overcoat and put it on, threw my cap away and replaced it with the fallen sombrero, ^nd then dragged the corpse behind an outhouse of the farm that stood close by. Eeturning, I picked up the gun, and began to saunter up and down in a very com- mendable way indeed ; but a sharp observer might have noticed a furtiveness and anxiety in the frequent glances I threw at the tent, which would not have augured well for my safety. I drew nearer and nearer to the tent at every turn, until I could almost distinguish the voices within; and presently after taking a most minute survey of the premises, I crept up to the tent, crouched down to the bottom of the trench, and listened with all my might. I could also see under the canvas. There were half a dozen rebel chieftains within, and a map was spread on a table in the centre of the apartment. At length the con- sultation was at an end, and the company rose to depart. I ran back to my place, and resumed the watchful saunter of the guard with as indifferent an air as possible, draw- ing the hat well over my eyes. The generals came outside of the tent" and looked about a little before they disappeared. Two of them came close to me and passed almost within a yard of the sentry's body. But they passed on, and I drew a deep breath of relief. A light still glimmered through the tent, 126 THE scout's story. but presently tliat, too, vanished, and all was still. Bui occasionally I Avould hear the voice of a fellow sentry, or perhaps the rattle of a halter in some distant manger. I looked at my watch. It was two o'clock — would be five before I could fire the signal, and the attack was to be at daybreak. Cautiously as before, I started on my return, reaching my horse v/ithout accident,. Ilere I abandoned the gun and overcoat, remounted and started down the mountain. "Tallahassee" let me through the first picket again, but something was wrong when I cantered down the ravine to the troopers to whom I had been so confidentially dis- patched by Colonel Craig. Probably the genuine mes- senger, or perhaps the gallant Colonel himself had paid them a visit during my absence. At any rate, I saw that something unpleasant was up, but resolved to make the test of it. " Tallahassee !" I cried, as I began to descend the ravine. "Halt, or you're a dead man!" roared the leading trooper. " He's a Yank !" " Cut him down 1" chimed in the others. " Tallahassee ! Tallahassee !" I yelled. And committing my soul to God, I plunged down the gulley with sabre and revolver in either hand. Click — bang! something grazed my cheek like a hot iron. Click— bang again! something whistled by my ear with an ugly intonation. And then I was in their midst, shooting, stabbing, slashing, and swearing like a fiend. The rim of my hat flapped over my face from a sabre cut, and I felt blood trickling down my neck. But I burst away from them, up the banks of the ravine, and along the bare plateau, all the time yelling " Tallahassee 1 Tallahassee !" without knowing why. I could hear the alarm spread back over the mountain by halloos and drums, and presently the clatter of pursuing steeds. But 1 fled onward like a whirlwind, almost fainting from IN THE SHENANDOAH VALLEY. 127 excitement and loss of blood, until I reeled off at the hollow stump. Fiz, fiz ! one, two ! and m j heart leaped with exultation as the rushing rockets followed each other in quick suc- cession to the zenith, and burst on the gloom in glitterino- showers. Emptying the remaining tubes of my pistol at the nearest pursuer, now but fifty yards off, I was in the saddle and away again without waiting to see the result of my aim. It was a ride for life for a few moments ; but I pressed as noble a steed as ever spurned the footstool, and as we neared the Union lines the pursuit dropped off. When I attained the summit of the first ridge of our position, and saw the day break faintly and rosily beyond the pine-tops and along the crags, the air fluttered violently in my face, the solid earth quivered beneath my feet, as a hundred cannon opened simultaneously above, below, and around me. Serried columns of men were swinging ir- resistibly down the mountain toward the opposite slope ; flying field-pieces were dashing off' into position ; long lines of cavalry were haunting the gullies, or hovering like vultures on the steep ; and the blare of bugles rose above the roar of the artillery with a wild, victorious peal. The two rockets had been answered, and the veterans of the Union were bearing down upon the enemy's weakened centre like an avalanche of fire. " So that is all," said the scout, rising and yawning. " The battle had begun in earnest. And maybe I didn't dine with General E. when it was over and the victory gained. Let's go to bed." IN THE SHENANDOAH VALLEY. A squadron of two hundred of Stuart's cavalry had surprised seventeen mounted Union pickets, who were completely surrounded, and, of course, ordered to sur- render. 128 INCIDENTS OF A FIGHT. " Sir," said the lieutenant, " sucli is the fate of war," aftd offering his sword, turned his horse to his command, and gave the order — "Boys, empty sixteen saddles." One "flash from sixteen carbines obeyed. Dashing on the rebel captain, and seizing him by the collar, he dragged him away, dangling at his horse's flanks. " Follow, men !" They did ; and riddled though their clothes were with bullets, they all escaped. After the first mile had been made, the lieutenant checked up, and asked his prisoner, the captain, if he would prefer any other mode of riding. Of course he did. As good luck would have it, the rebel's horse was loyal to his master, and he had in the melee followed him. One of our men seized his bridle rein, and thus, as the rebel captain struck on his feet, his own horse whinneyed to his master's call. " Now, captain, you must feel at home, I suppose, you are mounted again." It was a strange coincidence. The rebel was sent to the Old Capitol Prison some days later, and among the courtesies shown to him there, he found the identical copy of Xenophou's Cyroptedia which he and his captor had' both read, as class-mates, in Yale College, ten years before. INCIDENTS or A riGET. At the battle of Hanover Court-House, Ya., two ser- geants met in the woods ; each drew his knife, and the two bodies were found together, each with a knife buried in it to the hilt. Some men had a cool way of disposing of prisoners. One, an officer of the Massachusetts Ninth, well known in Boston as a professor of muscular Christianity, better A HEROIC SAILOR. 129 known as "the cliild of the regiment,"' -svhile rushing through the woods at the head of his company, came upon a rebel. Seizing the "' gray back" by the collar, he threw him over his shoulder, with "Pick him lip, some- body." A little Yankee, marching down by the side of a fence which skirted the woods, came upon a strapping secesh, who attempted to seize and pull him over the rails, but the little one had too much science. A blow with the butt of a musket levelled secesh to the ground and made him a prisoner. There were many marvellous escapes. A HEEOIO SAILOE. "W^hen the record of the war comes to be written, not the least interesting feature of it will be the heroic deeds of the humble men who compose the rank and file of the army and navy. Instances of individual heroism and self-sacrifice are already presenting themselves in abun- dance, and when the conflict is happilj' ended, will furnish & rich harvest of materials for the annalist and historian. One of the most conspicuous of these in any chronicle of the war, must be the case of the gallant tar, John Davis, whose courage in the attack on Elizabeth City, N. C, was made the subject of special mention by his immediate commander and by Commodore Goldsborough, who thus united to make manifest the bond of true chivalry, which binds together all brave men, however widely separated their station. The following is the story of this brave sailor : — " Lieut. J. C. Chapin, commanding United States steamer Valley City, oft' Roanoke Island, writing to Commodore Goldsborough, noticed a magnanimous act of bravery by John Davis, gunner's mate on board his vessel, at the taking of Elizabeth City. He says John Davis was at his station during the action, in the magazine, issuing 9 130 AD/ENTURE OF KJLLBAKE, TOE SCOUT. powder, when a shell from the enemy's battery penetrated into the magazine, and exploded outside of it. _ He threw himself over a barrel of powder, protecting it with hi.^ own body from the fire, while at the same time passing out the powder for the guns. " Commodore Goldsborough, in transmitting this letter- to the Navy Department, says, 'It affords me infinite pleasure to forward this communication to the Navy Department, to whose especial consideration I beg leave to recommend the gallant and noble sailor alluded to ;' and he adds, in a postcript, 'Davis actually seated himself on the barrel, the top being out, and in this position he remained until the flames were extinguished.'" The Navy Department promptly rewarded him. He was a gunner's mate, receiving a salary of twenty-five dollars per month or three hundred dollars per year. The evidence of his bravery was received at the Navy De- partment, and on the next day Secretary AVelles appointed him a gunner, an office which carries with it a salary of one thousand dollars per year, and is a life appointment, the salary increasing by length of service to one thousand four hundred and fifty dollars. ADVEUTUSE OF KILLDAEE, TBH SCOTJT. "I left the city of Nashville," says Killdare, "to go South, taking with me a few goods to peddle. I passed down the Charlotte pike, and travelled two miles up the Rich- land Creek, then crossed over to the Hardin pike, follow ing that road to Harpeth Creek, and crossed below De Morse's mill. At the mill I met De Morse, who said to me, 'Killdare, do you make another trip?' I replied, 'I do not know.' De Morse then said, 'If you get below the meeting-house, you are saved,' and smiled. I proceeded on my way until I came to a blaoksmith-shop on the pike, at which a gentleman by the name of Marlia ADVENTURE OF KILLBARE, THE ECOUT. 131 came out and asked if I had heard anything of a man named Sanford being killed. I told Marlin I di^l not know an3'thing about it, and proceeded on to South Har- per to Squire Allison's, which is seventeen miles from Nashville. I then fed my mules, stopped about one hour, and proceeded across South Harper towards Williamsport. " About one mile the other side of South Harper, two rebel scouts came galloping up, and asked me what I had for sale. I told them needles, pins, and playing-cards. They then inquired, ' Have you any papers to go South ?' I replied I had, and showed "^them some recommendations, They asked me to get down from my carryall, as they wanted to talk with me. This I did; and they then asked — " ' Have you any pistols ?' " ' No,' I replied. " Stepping back a few paces, and each drawing a pistol, one of them said, 'You scoundrel, you are our prisoner ; you are a Yankee spy, and you carry letters from the South, and at the dead hour of night you carry these letters to Truesdail's office. We lost a very valu- able man on Monday while attempting to arrest you at your house : his name was Sanford, and he was a great deal thought of by General Van Horn. So now we've got you, you, turn your wagon round and go back.' "We turned and went to Squire Allison's again, at which place I met Dr. Morton, from Nashville, whom I requested to assist in getting me released. Dr. Morton spoke to the men, who, in reply, said — " ' We have orders to arrest him as a spy, for carrying letters to Truesdail's head-quarters.' " They then turned back to South Harper Creek, and took me up the creek about one mile, where we met about eight more of these scouts and Colonel McNairy, of Nash^ ville, who was riding along in a buggy. The lieutenant in command of the squad wrote a despatch to Van Dorn, and gave it to one of the men, by the name of Thompson, 132 ADVENTURE OF KILLDARE, THE SCOUT. ■\vho had me in custody, and we then proceeded up the creek to Spring Ilill, towards the head-quarters of General Van Dorn. "About six miles up the creek, Thompson learned I had some whiskey, which I gave him, and of which he drank until he got pretty well intoxicated. In the neigh- Uorhood of Ivy we stopped until about six o'clock in the evening. About one mile from Ivy the wheel of my carryall broke. A neighbor came to us with an axe and put a pole under the axletree, and we proceeded on our way. We had gone but a few hundred yards when the wagon turned over ; we righted it, and Thompson took a carpet-sack full of goods, filled his pockets, and then told me ' to go to ; he would not take me to head- quarters.' Changing his mind, however, he said he would, as he had orders so to do, and showed me the de- spatch written by Lieutenant Johnson to General Van Dorn. It read as follows : — " ' I have succeeded in capturing Mr. Killdare. Archy Cheatham, of Nashville, says Killdare is not loyal to the Confederacy. The Federals have mounted five hundred light infantry. Sanford's being killed is confirmed.' "Thompson, being very drunk, left me, taking the goods he stole. Two citizens came up shortly and told me to turn round, and stop all night at Isaac Ivy's, 1st District, Williamson County. There we took the re- mainder of the goods into the house. At three o'clock in the morning a negro woman came and knocked at the door. " Mr. Ivy says, ' What do you want ?' " ' A soldier is down at the creek, and wants to know where his prisoner is,' was the reply. " ' What has he done with the goods he took from that man?' '"He has left them at our house, and has just started up the creek as I came up.' " ' That will do. Go on.' ADVENTURE OF KILLDARE, THE SCOUT. 133 *'I "U'fis awake, and tried to make my escape, asking Mr. Ivy if he had a couple of saddles to loan me. " He said he had ; and I borrowed from him seven dollars, as Thompson took all my money (fifty dollars in Georgia Currency). He (Ivy) then told me the route I should take — going a few miles towards Franklin, and then turn towards my home in Nashville. Taking Ivy's advice, Ave proceeded on our way towards Franklin. About eight miles from Franklin, four guerrillas came up to me and fired two pistols. "'Halt!' said they; 'you Avant to make your way to the Yankees. We have a notion to kill you, any way.' " They then ordered me to turn, which I did — two go- ing behind, whipping the mules, and hooting and halloo- ing at a great rate. "We then turned back to Ivy's. When we got there, I said — " ' Where is Thompson, my guard, who told me to go on?' "'He was here early this morning, and has gone up the hill hunting you, after borrowing my shot-gun,' was the answer. " Some conversation ensued between the parties, when Ivy wrote a note to General Van Horn and gave it to Thompson. Ivy then gave us our equipage, and we went towards Spring Hill. On the way we met, on Carter's Creek Pike, a camp of four hundred Texan Rangers. We arrived at Spring Hill at sundown of the day follow- ing. At Van Horn's head-quarters I asked for an inter- view with the general, which was not allowed, but was ordered to Columbia to prison until further orders. "The next evening a Nashville soldier, who stood sen- tinel, let me out, and said, ' You have no business here.' I made my way towards Shelbyville, crossed over Duck Creek ; made my way to the Louisburg and Franklin Pike, and started towards Franklin. Before we got to the pickets we took to the woods, and thus got round the pickets. A farmer reported having seen me to the guard. Vol THE NIGHT OF THE BATTLE OF KALL's BLUFF. and [ was taken again towards Yan Dorn's head-quarters, six miles distant. I bad gone about one mile, when I fell in with Colonel Lewis' command, and was turned over, to an orderly-sergeant, with whom I was acquainted, and by whom I was taken to the head-quarters of Colonel Lewis. There I was discharged from arrest, and was told by the colonel what route I should take in order to avoid the scouts, which I did, and finally arrived safely within the Union lines." THE NIGHT OP THE BATTLE OP BALL'S BLTJIT. It was a gloomy night in "Washington. One of the imexyjected and heart-cliilling disasters which befell the Union arms in the earlv history of the war had that day happened at Ball's Bluff (October 21, 1861). Our forces had been routed and slaughtered, and the gallant Colonel Baker, who had left the Senate-chamber to lead his splendid California Regiment to the war, had fallen, dying instantly, pierced at the same second by seven bullets. This Avas a natioiial loss. His place iu the arm}'-, in the Senate, in the hearts of the people of California and Ore- gon, in the admiration of his companions-in-arms in Mexico, a-nd in the realms of eloquence, would remain vacant. No man living was invested with all these rare and great attributes in so eminent a degree. The appa- rently well-founded suspicion that he had fallen a victim to the foulest treason subsequently mingled the intensest indignation with inconsolable grief for his cruel and un- timely death. It was late in the evening when the news reached Willard's; but a large crowd was still there, among whom, as always, were many well-known public men. In those days secession was more popular in Washington than it has since been or is likely ever to become again. Not only was some slimy spy lurking within earshot of THE NIGHT OF THE BATTLE OF BALL'S BLUFF. 135 everv man worth tracking, but there were scores of strong sympathizers with the rebellion, who caught with avidity the first rumor of disaster to the national arms. These abettors and agents of Davis wore the mask as closely as they could ; and although the habitues of the capital could tell them at a glance, and by an instinct of loyalty nearly infallible, knew when one of them entered the room, yet on some occasions the sudden announce- ment of bad news for our cause threw them from their guard, and the gleam of fiendish delight flashed from their faces. " Baker w%as killed at Ball's Bluff this afternoon." Never did news transform men's countenances quicker. One class received it with blank amazement and horror , the other, with demoniac exultation. Words fell which neither party could restrain; and the blood of the coolest began to boil when they heard the murdered Baker's name insulted. A movement was made which bolder men than traitors would not have attempted to resist. The villains started, by a common impulse, for the two doorways, or that mosaic pavement would have worn another color within ten seconds. A minute later, the place was cleansed; the unclean spirit had gone out! — all but one, perhaps. A very red-faced, stalwart man, who had stood by and seen all that had been going on without saying a word, finally remarked, with a pretty determined air, that " as .V)r himself he didnt care much about the fight. He lived on the Lower Mississippi, and the people down his way could take care of themselves. As long as they owned the Mississippi, the d — d abolitionists could make all the muss they pleased. We hold the Gulf of Mexico, and the Northwest, and the Yankees may be d — d." A very tall, lean, awkward, bony-looking man sidled quietly up to the Mississippian, and, putting his nose, by a stoop, quite close to his face, said, in unmistakable /ar- Western brogue — ■ 136 THE NIGHT OF THE BATTLE OF EALL's BLUFF. " Look here, stranger," and gentl j emphasizing his re- mark by taking the stranger's left ear between bis thumb and finger; "now you may not know it, but I live in Minnesoty, and we make that Mississippi water you call yourn, and we kalkilate to use it some." The stranger's hand moved pretty quick for a side- pocket, but not quite quick enough. I saw a movement, I heard a blow, and the blood spattered surrounders slightly. In less time than such enterprises usually re- quire, the stranger had fallen heavily on the marble floor, striking his head against an iron column, and remaining in a condition which rendered it desirable to have hi3 friends look after him, if he had any. The Western gentleman was congratulated — when he apologized, " I didn't want to hurt the feller, and I didn't care about his bowie-knife going through me, nother. But the tarnal traitor must let the old country alone, and j)artickilarly that big river. We want to use that ihar. out West." Baker's body was brought across the Potomac the even- ing he fell. It rested all day, and then by ambulance was conveyed to Washington, and carried through the same hospitable doorway of his friend Colonel Webb, from whose steps I had parted with him as he mounted his horse and gave us his warm, earnest hand only two or three mornings before ! Oh, how radiant was his face ! how athletic and symmetrical his form ! how unsullied his ambition ! how pure his devotion to God and country ! "God spare his life, at least'." we said, as we saw him disappear around the corner ! This prayer Heaven could not grant. The following day, when the last preparations for the tomb had been made, we went to gaze once more, and forever, on what of earth remained of the form which so lately enshrined the noble spirit. " Then monrnfuUy the parting bugle bid Its farewell o'er the grave. " INCIDENTS OF FORT PICKENS. 137 California claimed her hero and statesman, and his ashes now repose on the calm shore of that ocean -which washes the western base of the empire for whose glory he lived and died. His body lies in Lone Mountain Cemetery, near the city of San Francisco, and over it will rise one of the most superb monuments which the genius of Art has ever erected in honor of human greatness. INCIDENTS or rOET PICKENS. I went to visit the Fort. Took a circuit first of the covered way, then of the parapet and ramparts. All around the JPort, inside and out, were marks of the ene- my's shot and shell. On the glacis, here and there, are deep grooves, ending in a large hole, where the shot had plumped into it, and where had been shell which had burst. The hole was a great excavation, into which you could drive an ox-cart. Where tha projectiles have struck the standing walls, they have clipped oft* patches of the brick- work (it is a brick and not a stone fort) perhaps eight or ten feet deep, and, where they struck the corners, larger portions have been removed ; but in no case has any part of the fortifications received an injury tending in the least to weaken it, and this after two days' heavy firing. The only man who was killed outright during the two days' action, was an artilleryman, who was passing into the casemates with some bread from the bake-house. A shell exploded at the other side of the area, and one piece, fiying a distance of some two or three hundred feet, passed throuorh his body, under his arms. He walked a few steps and fell dead. There were many almost miraculous escapes. A shell was heard coming toward a gun on the parapet, and the men dodged under their bomb-proofs. The shell hi^- fair on top of the bomb-proof, went through, and dropped into 138 INCIDENTS OF FORT PICKENS. a pail of water beside the officer, where it exploded. When the men came out again to resume their work, all they saw of the officer was his heels sticking out of a pile of rubbish. After digging him out, they stood amazed to see that he was not even hurt. He rose up, shook the sand from his hair and clothes, and coolly- said — " Come, come ! what are you standing there gaping at ? Load that gun, there." At it they went again, as if nothing had happened. Another officer, who had charge of a battery of mor- tars, had no less than seventeen shells strike within ten yards of him. I saw the ground ploughed up in every direction, and yet not a man was hurt. About twenty of the men, who had been relieved from their guns, were sitting smoking and watching the firing in a corner pro- tected from shot by the walls, when half of a huge shell struck and buried itself right in the middle of the group, without disturbing them in the least. " What's that?" asked one. " The devil knows, and he won't tell," indifferently re- sponded another, and went on smoking. A ten-inch columbiad came rolling toward a group, the fuse whizzing and smoking. " Wonder if that'll hit us ?" "Guess not ; we're too near it !" Crack went the shell I flying in every direction, but fortunately escaping them ail. The rebel powder was poor ; as also their shot, except that portion which they succeeded in stealing before the rebellion broke out. Their practice, however, was said to be good — how could it have been otherwise ? Uncle Sam taught them at his unparalleled school at West Point, but with little thought that the teaching would be thus employed. A STRANGE SIGHT IN BATTLE. 139 A STEAUGE DUEL. A distinguished duel occurred on the battle-field of Fort Donelson, between one of Col. Birge's sharpshooters and a crack shot inside the enemy's fortifications. Both fired accurately, but both concealed their persons as much as possible, and endeavored to deceive each other by putting their hats on their ramrods, and thrusting their coats from behind the fortifications or the trees. What- ever was exposed, almost invariably received a bullet ; but the two were so wary and skilful, that it seemed they might fire until doomsday without danger to either. About four o'clock in the afternoon, however, the rebel, forgetful of prudence, thrust his head over the breast- works, thinking, no doubt, as his enemy had not fired for five minutes, that he might be dead. The movement was fatal. His head was not exposed five seconds, but in that brief period the sharpshooter's ball passed into the rebel's brain, and stretched him out a corpse, before the unfortunate fellow had been able to determine where his enemy was lurking, or by whose hand he was destined to fall. A STEANGE SIGHT IN BATTLE. At the battle of Stone River, Tennessee, wdiile the men were lying behind a crest waiting, a brace of frantic wild turkeys, so paralyzed with fright that they were incapa- ble of flying, ran between the lines and endeavored to hide among the men. But the frenzy among the turkeys w\as not so touching as the exquisite fright of the birds and rabbits. When the roar of battle rushed through the cedar thickets, flocks of little birds flattered and circled above the field in a state of utter bewilderment, and scores of rabbits fled for protection to the men lying dowa 138 INCIDENTS OF FORT PICKENS. a pail of water beside the officer, where it exploded. When the men came out again to resume their work, all they saw of the officer was his heels sticking out of a pile of rubbish. After digging him out, thej stood amazed to see that he was not even liurt. He rose up, shook the sand from his hair and clothes, and coolly said — " Come, come ! what are you standing there gaping at ? Load that gun, there." At it they went again, as if nothing had happened. Another officer, who had charge of a battery of mor- tars, had no less than seventeen shells strike within ten yards of him. I saw the ground ploughed up in every direction, and yet not a man was hurt. About twenty of the men, who had been relieved from their guns, were sitting smoking and watching the firing in a corner pro- tected from shot by the walls, when half of a huge shell struck and buried itself right in the middle of the group, without disturbing them in the least. "What's that?" asked one. " The devil knows, and he won't tell," indifferently re- sponded another, and went on smoking. A ten-inch columbiad came rolling toward a group, the fuse whizzing and smoking. " Wonder if that'll hit us ?" "Guess not ; we're too near it !" Crack went the shell ! flying in every direction, but fortunately escaping them all. The rebel powder was poor ; as also their shot, except that portion which they succeeded in stealing before the rebellion broke out. Their practice, however, was said to be good — how could it have been otherwise ? Uncle Sam taught them at his unparalleled school at West Point, but with little thought that the teaching would be thus employed. A STRANGE SIGHT IN BATTLE. 139 A STEANGE DUEL. A disting^uished duel occurred on the battle-field of Fort Donelson, between one of Col. Birge's sharpshooters and a crack shot inside the enemy's fortifications. Both fired accurately, but both concealed their persons as much as possible, and endeavored to deceive each other by putting their hats on their ramrods, and thrusting their coats from behind the fortifications or the trees. What- ev^er was exposed, almost invariably received a bullet ; but the two were so wary and skilful, that it seemed they might fire until doomsday without danger to either. About four o'clock in the afternoon, however, the rebel, forgetful of prudence, thrust his head over the breast- works, thinking, no doubt, as his enemy had not fired for five minutes, that he might be dead. The movement was fatal. His head was not exposed five seconds, but in that brief period the sharpshooter's ball passed into the rebel's brain, and stretched him out a corpse, before the unfortunate fellow had been able to determine where his enemy was lurking, or by whose hand he was destined to fall. A STEANGE SIGHT IN BATTLE. At the battle of Stone River, Tennessee, while the men were lying behind a crest waiting, a brace of frantic wild turkeys, so paralyzed with fright that they were incapa- ble of flying, ran between the lines and endeavored to hide among the men. But the frenzy among the turkeys was not so touching as the exquisite fright of the birds and rabbits. When the roar of battle rushed through the cedar thickets, flocks of little birds fluttered and circled above the field in a state of utter bewilderment, and scores of rabbits fled for protection to the men lying down 140 HEROISM IN THE HOSPITAL. in line on tlie left, nestling under their coats and creeping under their legs in a state of utter distraction. They hopped over the field like toads, and as perfectly tamed by fright as household pets. Many officers witnessed it, remarking it as one of the most curious spectacles ever seen upon a battle-field. HEEOISM IN TEE HOSPITAL. The surgeon said, " He can hardly live." He laid the hand down softly, and left this patient, to pass through the ward. It seemed to say that all that earth could do had been done, to save the life of the gallant young soldier. I fol- lowed the surgeon a few steps on the routine of duty. "We stopped, and looked each other in the face. He knew I wanted to know the whole truth. " Must the boy die ?" " There is a shadow of a chance. I will come again after midnight." I went back, with a heavy heart, to the cot we had left, and, knowing something of hospitals and dying men, I sat down to wait and see what new symptoms would occur, with the full directions of the surgeon in any event. The opiate, or whatever it may have been, which I had last administered, could not take effect at once ; and some- what worn out with the day's labors, I sat down to think. To sleep was out of the question ; for I had become so deeply interested in this young man it seemed to me I could not give him up. It was nearly midnight. The gas had been turned off just enough to leave the light needed, and twilight was grateful to the sick room ; for in this vast chamber there were more than two hundred sick men. Now and then came a suppressed moan from one couch, or a low plaint HEROISM IN THE HOSPITAL. 141 of hopeless pain — while at intervals thrilled from the high ceiling the shrill scream of agony. But all the while the full harvest-moon was pouring in all the lustrous sympathy and effulgence it could give, as it streamed over the mar- ble pile called the Patent Office, the unfinished north wing of which had been dedicated to this house of suf- fering. Almost noiselessly, the doors of this ward opened every few moments, for the gentle tread of the niofht nurses, who came, in their sleepless vigils, to see if in these hours they could render some service still to the stricken, the fallen, and yet no^ comfortless. Leaving my young friend for a few moments, I walked through the north aisle; and it seemed to me — so perfect was the regime of the hospital, so grand was its architec- tural proportions — more like walking through some European cathedral by moonlight, than through a place for sick soldiers. The silence greater than speech, the suffering unexpressed, the heroism which did not utter one complaint, the completeness of the whole system of care and curative process, made one of those sights and scenes which I would not tear away from my memory if I could ; for they have mingled themselves with asso- ciations that will link each month and year of time to come with all the months and years gone before them. I felt a strange interest in this young man whom I had left in what I supposed was his last quiet slumber; and yet I knew he would wake once more before he died. I approached his cot again. He was still sleeping, and so tranquilly I felt a little alarmed lest he might never wake till I had touched his pulse and found it still softly beat- ing. I let him sleep, and I thought I would sit by his sido till the surgeon came. I took a long, free breath, for I supposed it was all hope- lessly over. Then I thought of his strange history : — I knew it well 142 HEROISM IN THE HOSPITAL. He was born not far from Trenton Falls — the youngest son, among several brothers, of one of the brave tillers of that hard soil. He had seen his family grow up nobly and sturdily, under the discipline of a good religion and good government, and with a determination to defend both. When his country's troubles began, his first im- pulse thus found expression to his brothers : " Let me go ; for you are all married ; and if I fall, no matter." He went. He had followed the standard of the Repub- lic into every battle-field where the struggle carried him, till, worn out, but not wounded, he was l3orne to this hos- pital in Washington, a sick boy. He seemed to have a charmed life, for on several occasions his comrades had been shot dead or wounded on either side ; and Avhen his last cartridge had done execution, he carried off' two of his wounded companions from the field, bearing them and their muskets to the rear — if there were a rear to the flight from the Bull Eun of July, '61 — and nourished and watched and stood by these comrades till they died, and then got the help of a farmer to carry them with his cart, a whole day afterward, to be buried in a place Avhich he chose. The boy's example had inspired that farmer with such benevolence — if he were not inspired by patriotism al- ready — that he made honored graves for them ; and the writer of this Avork hioivs where their ashes rest. When this was all over, the boy came back, as a kind of rear-guard, of one, in the flight of the army of the Potomac, and, having reached the city of Washington and reported himself to his commander, fell senseless on Pennsylvania Avenue. He was taken to a neighboring house and well cared for ; and I saw him in the hospital of which I have spoken. But this was only his life as a soldier. There was another and a deeper life than that. The great loadstone that had led him away was the magnet of his nation. nETvOISM IN THE HOSriTAI*. 1x3 Another loadstone held his heart at home ; it was the magnet of Love. His wild and wayward history — wild only with ad- venture and wayward only with romance, he seemed to me. as I looked upon his face, so calm, and chiselled into sculptured beauty — I thought, either he looked like an Apollo with his unstrung bow, or a nautilus, cast on the turbulent ocean, to be wafted to some unknown clime, or sink forever, on the floor of the deep sea, to find a coral sepulchre. His dark eyelashes — bent up in such clear relief against their white ground — slowly and calmly began to move. I sprang to my feet ; for it seemed to me there was a chance yet. The surgeon was long in coming ; and yet I knew he would come. He did. His sharp and experienced eye, as he approached the cot, opened with surprise. Touch- ing my shoulder, he said, with surprise — ■ "He is still alive."' In an instant, taking the hand of the dying or dead boy — I scarcely knew which — -a faint smile passed over the surgeon's face. '' I am not sure but he may come up yet. If he revives, there is one chance left for him, if it be but one in a thousand. But I will work for that chance, and see what it will come to. ' Here Art triumphs, if it triumphs at all.' " The pulse seemed to be coming as he took the hand. " It acts strangely ; but I have seen two or three cases very much like it. Mind you, I do not think we can do much with this case ; but you stay and watch, and I will come back in half an hour. So, while he went through some other wards, I watched the patient. The last glimmer of life, which had given some light as this scene was being enacted, faded luio what seemed to me the calmest repose of death. 144 HEROISM IN THE HOSPITAL. But tlien, I thought, it is a strange sight, a heart filled with the earnest passions of youth, in the first hopes of life budding into their fruition beneath his own primeval forest-shades, where if there be an element that ever sanctified an early life it would have built a sanctuary — • for the love he must have borne to the fair being for whom he had treasured up his boyhood's jewels, for whom he gave up everything of the earth earthy, to rescue a Eepublic, and then go back after this episode of suffering to inaugurate the life of a citizen farmer on the bleak hills of New York : — if all this could not sustain him, what could ? In former visits to him he had made me his confidant in regard to these matters. He seemed to be hatmted with the idea that he would, after all, return to Utica, and once more see those he loved ; and yet he also seemed to me like one whose days were numbered, and the sur- geon had told me, after repeated counsels with his profes- sional brethren, that it was next to impossible to save his life, and that I must not expect it. All the while I clung to the belief that some vitality of faith, or love, or hope, or patriotism, or divine aid, would still send that boy back to the banks of the Mo- hawk. I saw another nervous twitch around the temples. I felt his pulse. It was an indication of hope, or sudden death. The surgeon came by again. " That boy has wonderful vitality," he said, as he looked at his face. Whether it was purely my fancy, my hope, or a fact, I did not know, but twilight seemed to pass over his face. "Yes, yes — I — I — wait — a moment. Oh, I shall not die !" He opened his eyes calmly, and then a glow which I shall never forget suffused his cheek, and, lifting his emaciated hands for the first time in several weeks — feebly, it is true, but they seemed to me strong — he ex- HEROISM IN THE HOSPITAL. 145 claimed, in a natural voice, " How floats tlie old flag now, bojs?" The transition from death to life seemed like enchant- ment. I could scarcely believe my senses. And yet 1 knew that if he ever rallied this would be the way. I now feared that his excitement would carry him be- yond his strength. I could not keep him from talking. I was beudino; over him to see if he would remember me. Looking me steadily in the eyes, his brows knit with per- plexity for a few seconds, when with a smile of delight and surprise he said, " Yes 1 yes ! it is j^ou, Mr. L . I am glad you stayed with me. I have been dreaming about you while I've been asleep ; and I must have been asleep a great while. How long?" I told him enough to let him understand how ill he had been, how long, and how weak he still was. He did not realize it. His eyes wandered down to his thin hands, white as alabaster, and through which the pale-blue thread-like veins wandered. " Oh ! is it I ? — so lean ? I was not so when I fell sick." And large tears rolled down his cheeks. I implored him to be quiet and rest, and I promised him he should get better every day, and be able to go home in a short time. But he grew impatient the more I tried to soothe and restrain him. He looked at me beseechingly, and asked, *' Won't you let me talk a little ? I must know something more, or it seems to me I shall go crazy. Please put your ear down to me; I won't speak loud — I won't get excited." I did. " Have you got any letters for me ?" '' Yes, but they are at my office. You shall have them to-morrow. They are all well at home." " And Bella ?" " Yes." " Oh, God be praised !" After a few moments of repose, he again opened hia eyes wide. 10 146 HEROISM IN THE HOSPITAL. " I have been gone so long from the army I It seemerl as though I never could get back when I got home. I got away ; and I wandered, and wandered — Oh ! how tired I was! Where is McDowell? — Is General Scott dead? They said so. Did they carry off Old Abe? How did he get back ? Did the rebels get into Wash- ington that night ? How long have I been sick ? What place is this ? — Oh, my head ! my head I" I was frightened. He had risen from the deep ocean into the sunlight for a brief hour, and now he seemed to be going down to come up no more. The tender chord of memory had given way. In a little while the surgeon came by, and I told him what had happened. " I was afraid of that. But I think we can manage it. If he wakes again witnin two hours, give him this powder on his tongue, and a sip of the liquid. If he does not, wake him gently." And so that anxious night wore away. In the morn- ing he woke bright and clear; and from that hour he began to get well. But for whole days his life was pul- sating in its gossamer tenement, fluttering over the misty barriers of the spirit-world. Bella's letters, received during his extreme illness, could now be read. They were among the noblest ever written by woman. " Our heart-prayers for you," they said, "have been an- swered by our Father. We now wait only for your re- turn. When we parted it was not with repining; you had gone to the altar of youy country in solemn and com- plete dedication. I too was prepared for the sacrifice. I expected it, although I knew how crushingly the blow would fall. But if you had not loved your country bet- ter than Bella, it would have broken her heart. I hope now in a fuw weeks you will be again by my side. When your health is once more restored, I will promise in ad- vance, as you desire, not to try to keep you from rejoin- ing your regiment ; and if the stars have written that JOE PARSONS, THE MARYLAND BOY. 141 Walter shall not be my husband, God has decreed that 1 shall die a widow never married." He did return to the Mohawk Yalley. He married Bella. He returned to the war ; and on the eve of iha great day of Antietam he heard that his son was boru, and the hero-father died by the side of Hooker. IMPUDENT COOLNESS. Tn the midst of an engagement with the rebels, eighteen miles from Newtonia, Mo., Gen. Schofield sent Lieutenant Bloodfelt attended by an orderly, with orders to Colonel Hall, Fourth Missouri Cavalry, to move to the left and attack in that direction. The route of the lieutenant was across a point of woods, in which, while passing, he sud- denly found himself facing about forty rebels drawn up in irregular line. Without a moment's hesitation, he and the orderly drew their pistols and charged. At the same time, tempering bravery with mercy, and not feeling any desire to shed blood needlessly, he drew out his handker- chief and waved it in token of his willingness to surround and capture the whole rebel force rather than shoot them down. The cool impudence of the act nonplussed the foe, and perhaps thinking there was a large force in the rear, eight of them threw down their arms and surrendered, and the balance, " skedaddled." JOE PAESOITS, TEE MAEYLAND BOY. Joe enlisted in the First Maryland regiment, and was plainly a "rough" originally. As we passed along tlie hall \ve first saw him crouched near an open window, lustily singing, "I'm a bold soldier boy," and observing tha broad bandage over his eyes, I said — ■ 148 JOE PARSONS, THE MARYLAND BOY. " Wbat's your name, my good fellow ?" "Joe, sir," he answered, "Joe Parsons." "And what is the matter with you?" "Blind, sir, blind as a bat." " In battle ?" " Yes, at Antietam ; both eyes shot out at one clip." Poor Joe was in the front at Antietam Creek, and a Mini^ ball had passed directly through his eyes, across his face, destroying his sight forever. He was but twenty years old, but he was as happy as a lark 1 "It is dreadful," I said. "I'm very thankful I'm alive, sir. It might ha' been worse, yer see," he continued. And then he told us his story. " I was hit," he said, " and it knocked me down. I lay there all night, and the next day the fight was renewed, I could stand the pain, yer see, but the balls was flyin' all round, and I wanted to get away. I couldn't see nothin,' though. So I waited and listened ; and at last I heard a feller groanin' beyond ne. " ' Hello !' says I. " ' Hello, yourself,' says he. " ' Who be yer ?' says I — ' a rebel ?' " ' You're a Yankee,' says he. " ' So I am,' says I. ' What's the matter with you ?' " ' My leg's smashed,' says he. " ' Can't yer walk ?' "'No.' ' Can't yer see ?' " ' Yes.' " ' Well,' says I, ' you're a rebel, but will you do me a little favor?' " ' I will,' says he, ' ef I ken.' " Then I says : ' Well, ole butternut, I can't see nothin'. My eyes is knocked out ; but I ken walk. Come over yere. Let's git out o' this. You p'int the way, an' I'll tote yer oif the field on my back.' "'Bally for you,' says he. A LOYAL PIGEON. 149 " And so "vve managed to get together. We shook hands on it. I took a wink outer his canteen, and he got on to my shoulders. " I did the walkin' for both, an' he did the navigatin'. An' ef he didn't make me carry him straight into a rehel colonel's tent, a mile away, I'm a liar 1 Hows'ever the colonel came up, an' says he, ' Whar d'yer come from ? who be yer ?' I told him. He said I was done for, and couldn't do no more shoot'n ; and he sent me over to our lines. So, after three days, I came down here with the ■wounded boys, where we're doin' pretty well, all things, considered." " But you will never see the light again, my poor fellow," I suggested, sympathetically. " That's so," he answered, glibly, " but I can't help it, you notice. I did my dooty— got shot, pop in the eye — an' that's my misfort'n, not my fault— as the old man said of his blind boss. " But — ' I'm a bold soldier boy,' " he continued, cheerily renewing his song ; and we left him in his singular mer- riment. ^ Poor, sightless, unlucky, but stout-hearted Joe Parsons. A LOYAL PIGEON. The following is a true and singularly remarkable story of a pigeon captured by Mr. Tinker, a teamster of the Forty-second New York Volunteers, while the regiment ■was encamped at Kalorama Heights, Ya. Mr. Tinker made a pet of him, and kept him in camp until they started for Poolesville. Strange to say, the pigeon fol- lowed on with the train, occasionally flying away at a great distance, but always returning, and, when weary, ■would alight on some wagon of the train. At night he was sure to come home, and w^atching his opportunity, would select a position, and quietly go to roost iu Tinker's wagon. . m. ' A .» . » ^ ■ ■ ^ W . W 'i 60 GATHERING IN THE CONTRABANDS. Many of the men in the regiment took a fancy to him, and he soon became a general favorite. From Poolesville he followed to Washington, and down to the dock, where Tinker took him on board the steamer ; so he went to Fortress Monroe, thence to Yorktown, where he was ac- customed to make flights over and beyond the enemy's works, but was alwa3'^s sure to return at evening, to roost and receive his food at Tinker's wagon. From thence he went all through the Peninsular campaign, afterwards to Antietam, and Harper's Ferry, witnessing all the bat- tles fought by his regiment. By this time he had gained so much favor, that a friend offered twenty-five dollars to purchase him, but Tinker would not sell him at any price, and soon after sent him home as a present to some friend. It might be interestinsr to trace the future movements of this remark- able specimen of the feathered tribe, but none will doubt his instinctive loyalty and attachment to the old Tammany resjiment. GATHEEING BT THE CONTRABANDS. Our Southern brethren have been sensitive upon the negro-labor question from the commencement of the rebellion. As a general rule, they preferred losing or lending a horse rather than a slave. They feared army influences upon their chattel — that he would become "a mean nigger." Of course the same difficulty would not arise in the army education of the horse or mule. For this reason it is — at least, we can conceive of no other — that the rebel planter has often fled, at short notice, with his negroes, leaving wife, children, mules, hogs, and household goods to the mercy of the invading Northmen. At the outset the negroes were crammed with most awful accounts of the ways of the savage Yankees, and many of the poor creatures were equally eager with their masters to fly from us. GATHERIXQ IN THE CONTRABANDS. 151 Thus premising, we have to relate an amusing affair which occurred at Nashville in the fall of 1802. Upon the commencement of the fortifications in that city, orders were given to impress all able-bodied male negroes, to be put at work upon the forts. The slaveholders of the city at once began to secrete their negroes in cellars and by- ways. The Federal officers said nothing, but resolved to bide their time — their gangs upon the works, meanwhile, singing and wheeling away quite merrily. After several days all sensation subsided, and an occasional colored individual would be seen at an open window or shuffling around a street-corner. At length the time for action was at hand. A fine Sabbath came, and with it a large congregation of pious negroes, in all their Sunday array and perfumery. They felt in fine feather; for was not the city being fortified and defended, and the day of jubilee for the colored race close at hand ? A hymn flowed out in harmonious ca- dence, equal in volume to the rolling flood of the Cumber- land. A prayer was ofiered with great earnestness and unction, and the preacher had chosen his text, when lo ! an apparition appeared at the door — yes, several of them I A guard of blue-coated soldiers, with muskets, entered, and announced to the startled brethren that the services of the evening would be concluded at Fort Negle}^ Out went the lights, as if by magic, and there was a general dive for the windows. Shrieks, howls, and imprecations went forth to the ears of darkness, rendering night truly hideous. Fancy bonnets were mashed, ribbons were rumpled, and the destruction of negro finery was enor- mous. Some reached the windows and crawled out, and into the hands of guards who were waiting outside. The shepherd of the flock was thus caught, it is said, while making a dive through the window, head first, butting over two " bold soger boys " as he came out. The scene was amusing indeed. And the aext morning it was still 154 JOHN morgan's female spy. slie had inspired, they served to weaken it materialiv, and to excite doubts as to the truth of her statements and the honesty of her intentions. Returning to his hotel, the note from Mrs. Judd there awaiting him fully confirmed his previously-formed opinions. So strong were they now, and so solicitous was he to fathom and disclose the mischief which he felt to be brewing, that he again went to the police office that evening, taking the note with him, and exhibiting it to the authorities there. He was advised to call as requested, and endeavor to ascertain her true character and designs. lie did so, and found her at Mr. Beaden's, as stated. After some unimportant conversation, she said to him, "Are you loyal?" His decidedly af&rmative answer she construed to mean that he was a friend to the South and ftworable to its cause. It may here be explained that, though Blj'the at his first meeting did not recognize her, she at once remembered having seen him at Murfreesborough, where he had been detained some eight or nine weeks before he was allowed to proceed to Nashville. As he seemed while there to be "under no restraint whatever, she knew nothing of his being a paroled prisoner and a Northern man. The fact of his having a pass from General Bragg, taken in con- nection with certain remarks casually made by him, was to her proof positive that he was a Southerner and a rebel. To this ver}'- natural mistake she was indebted for all the misfortune that eventually befell her. Completely self-deceived, she immediately took him into her confidence, and entered upon an explanation of her business and plans. She was going, she said, to Louisville, for the purpose of purchasing quinine and other medicines for the Southern Confederacy, together with a considerable amount of dry goods and groceries for herself and others. But this was only a portion of her business, and of no importance in comparison with the remainder.. John Morgan was about to make a raid upon the Louisville and Nashville Eailroad, and was only wait- JOHN morgan's female bpy. 155 ino- for information as to the strength of the garrisons and the disposition of troops along its track, necessary to de- termine the most available point of attack. This infor- mation she had engaged to obtain and furnish to him on her return to Gallatin, where certain of his men were to meet her, by appointment, on a fixed day. This day was now at hand; and accordingly she was anxious to start for Louisville the next morning, so that she might have ample time to purchase her goods and be back to Gallatin on the day appointed. Unfortunately, however, her pass did not allow her to leave Nashville until the morning after, and she wished he would try and exchange it for one allowing her to go on the morrow. Blj'the oblig- ingly consented, and further said that, as it would save her a good deal of trouble in Louisville, he would get her a pass to go and return as far as Gallatin. "With the old pass he immediately went a third time to the office, stated his Avish, and related the conversation that had . passed between himself and Mrs. Judd. Colonel Trues- dail gave him the desired pass, and insisted upon his ac- companying her to Louisville, at the same time instruct- ing him to atfbrd her every facility for the perfection of her plans, but to neither encourage nor restrain her. Blythe returned with the new pass according to pro- mise. In the conversation that ensued he warned her of the danger of the business she was about to embark in, cautioning her as to the watchfulness of the Federal authorities, and endeavored to dissuade her therefrom. His advice, however, though well meant and kindly enough received, was of no avail. It was her duty, she said, to do all that she could for the South ; and, as they were God's chosen people, she was not afraid of any harm befalling her. Seeing that she was determined in her purpose, Blythe affected a deep solicitude in her wel- fiire, and finally told her he would postpone his business for the present and go with her to Louisville then, instead of waiting a few days, as he had intended. It would b® 156 JOHN MORGAN'S FEMALE 6PT a great accommodation, as Avell as pleasure, to him, he remarked, laughingly, for then he could sit with her in the ladies' car — no small matter on a train literally jammed with passengers, as that one usually was. Ma- dam was highly pleased at this exhibition of kindness, and with many thanks endeavored to show her gratitude therefor. Thenceforward she placed implicit confidence in Blythe, and unreservedly told him all her plans, to- gether w'ith much of her past history and experience. This was her second trip, she said. The previous one had been quite profitable to her, and had enabled her to furnish a large amount of valuable information to the rebels. Throughout the entire journey to Louisville she was ever on the alert for the smallest scrap of information. At every station, out of the window would go her head, and the bystanders be plied with guarded questions con- cerning the strength of the place, means of defence, num- ber of troops and names of regiments there, etc, Blythe was evidently annoyed, and time and again pulled her dress, begging her " for God's sake to sit down and keep quiet," or she would attract attention and ruin both her- self and him. She replied that it was a part — and a very important part — of her business to observe, make inqui- ries, and take notes — she must do it. At Louisville Blythe paid her every attention, assisted her in her purchases, introduced her to one of the best dry goods houses in the city, and went Avith her to New Albany, where she bought several hundred dollars' worth of drugs and medicines. Here she was well acquainted ■ — a fact which she explained by saying that she had made purchases there before. These drugs she intended to pack in a trunk with a false bottom, but was told by Blythe that it would not be necessary, as he would see that her trunk was passed without examination. Occasionally he would absent himself for several hours, accounting for this by representing that he was engaged in buying a JOHN morgan's female SPY. 167 large stoelc of goods, with which he designed returning immediately to Murfreesborougb. One day he was taken quite ill, and was attended and nursed by her in the kindest manner. In addition to her confidence, he seemed now to have gained her affections. She devoted herself to him as only women do to those whom they love — an- ticipating his slightest wishes, and providing for his every want in the most warm-hearted and loving manner. Blythe's pretended sickness was soon over, but it left him weak; and he wished her to remain at Louisville another day. No ; she could not stay. Morgan's men had made a positive engagement to meet her that night at Gallatin, and she would not disappoint them for the world. She was to tell them, then and there, all that she had seen and heard down the road, and to advise them where to tap it. In return, they were to assist her in getting her trunks through the lines, which could easily be done by putting them in the bottom of the wagon-bed and coveiing them with fodder. Seeing that she could not be induced to remain, Blythe determined to return with her. Flattered by this mark of attention and appreciation, she was highly delighted and more affectionate than ever. Arrangements were at once made for the journey, BIj'the in the mean- while visiting General Boyle, explaining the whole mat- ter to him, and procuring an order dispensing with the usual examination of baggage in their case, and also tele- graphing to Colonel Truesdail, at Nashville, to have them arrested at Mitchellsville, just before reaching Gal- latin. On the way back she was in the best of spirits, and could hardly refrain from frequent exhibitions of her elation at the success of their schemes. Blythe begged her to be careful, or she would expose herself and him to ruin. " You know," said he, " if anything should happen to you it will get me into trouble, and that would make you feel bad; wouldn't it?" He asked if she was not afraid of being watched — if she did not ihinie 1 53 JOHN morgan's female spy. slie "was already suspected — seeking by this means to prepare her mind for the arrest wliich was soon to occur, and at the same time to allay any suspicions she might otherwise entertain of his complicit}' therein. She replied that she was, and that there was then in that very car a per- son whom she believed to be watching her. She betrayed considerable anxiety, and seemed quite uneasy about the matter for some time, but finally fell into her usual care- less mood. At Mitchellsville she took on board two large trunks of goods and clothing, left there on her former trip because of her having had too many to get safely away at that time Avithout exciting suspicion. Just after leaving Mitchellsville, Blythe said to her, "Now, this is a dangerous business you are in ; and 3^ou may not get through. At Gallatin I shall leave you, but will go straight through to Murfreesborough ; and if you have any word to send, I will take it with pleasure to anybody you may name." In reply she wished he would see lieutenant Hawkins and tell him that she had arrived safely at Gallatin with her goods, but that there Avas a larger force there than she had expected to find, and she might be troubled in getting out ; or if lieutenant Haw- kins was not then at Murfreesborough, he might tell any of Morgan's men, and their general would be sure to get the news and devise some means for her assistance. At this time, as well as on previous occasions, she seemed to be on very intimate terms with ^Morgan and to rely im- plicitly upon him and his followers. She further informed Blythe that her home was in AV^inchester, Tennessee, but that she was on her way to Atlanta, Georgia, Avhere her son had a situation in the Ordnance department, and that the knitting-machine purchased by her was intended as a pattern for the manufacture of others, there being no- thing of the kind in the South. This conversation was scarcely concluded when both were arrested, and Blythe — according to previous arrange- ment — roughly handled. Mrs. Judd turned very paH JOHN morgan's female spy. 159 and was strangely excited ; though she seemed more af- fected by Biythe's situation and danger than her OAvn. Blythe, however, seemed to take it coolly enough, and as a matter of course — which but the more increased the sorrow of Mrs. Judd, it being for her only that he had thus ventured and lost. But regrets were useless now, and both were brought on to Nashville at once. Mrs. Judd was put under guard at a hotel, and assured that Blythe would be hung the next morning. At this intel- lig-ence she became quite distracted, begged and implored to be heard in his favor, asserting with broken voice and tearful e3^es that he was an innocent man, and that the guilt and blame of the whole transaction were hers alone. Making no impression upon those about her, she went so far as to write and send to head-quarters a petition that he might be spared from a punishment he did not de- serve. Blythe, of course, was released at once ; but she did not know it, and to this day remains ignorant of his real fate and location. Her baggage was examined and found to contain many hundred dollars' worth of contra- band goods — unquestionable evidences of her guilt. Among its contents was a Bible, with Blythe's name written in it by herself, which she had purchased in Louisville, intending to present it to him when they should meet again in Murfreesborough. The circumstances, when known, created not a little excitement in army circles, and the case was personally examined by the general commanding and his staS". The crime was the holiest known to military law ; the import- ance of the consequences involved in the success or defeat of the scheme, almost incalculable. In short, it was one of those little pivots on which the fortunes of a campaign or the fate of an army might turn. For such an offence the only adequate punishment was death ; but the person implicated was a woman ; and that reverence for the sex which brave men ever feel would not allow the applica- tion of so extreme a penalty. To pass her lightly by, 160 INCIDENTS OF GRIERSON's RAID. however, could not be reconciled with a sense of dntj; and it was deemed necessary to make an example of her, bj confining her in the military prison at Alton, Illinois, during the war. DTOIDENTS OP GEIESSOFS EAID. Upon one occasion, as the Union scouts were feeding their horses at the stables of a wealthy planter of seces- sion proclivities, the proprietor looking on, apparently deeply interested in the proceeding, suddenly burst out with — " Well boys, I can't say I have anything against you, I don't know but that on the whole I rather like you. You have not taken anything of mine except a little corn for your horses, and that you are welcome to. I have heard of you all over the country. You are doing the boldest thing ever done. But you'll be trapped, though ; you'll be trapped, mark me." At another place, where the men thought it advisable to represent themselves as Jackson's cavalry, a whole company was very graciously entertained by a strong secession lady, who insisted on whipping a negro because he did not bring the hoecakes fast enough. On one occasion, seven of Colonel Grierson's scouts stopped at the house of a wealthy planter to feed their jaded horses. Upon ascertaining that he had been doing a little guerrilla business on his own account, our men encouraged him to the belief that, as they were the in- vincible Van Dorn cavalry, they Avould soon catch the Yankees. The secession gentleman heartily approved of what he supposed to be their intentions, and enjoined upon them the necessity of making as rapid marches as possible. As the men had discovered two splendid car- riage horses in the planter's stable, thej thought under EDDY McFADDEN. 161 the circumstances, they would be justified in making an exchange, which they accordingly proceeded to do. As they were taking the saddles from their own tired steeds and placing thetn on the backs of the wealthy guerrilla's horses, the proprietor discovered them, and at cnce objected. He was met with the reply that, as he was anxious the Yankees should be speedily overtaken, those after them should have good horses. " All right, gentlemen," said the planter ; " I will keep your animals until you return. I suppose you'll be back in two or three days at the furthest. When you return you'll find they have been well cared for." The soldiers were sometimes asked where they got their blue coats. They always replied, if they were travelling under the name of Van Dorn's cavalry, that they took them at Holly Springs of the Yankees. This always excited great laughter among the secessionists. The scouts, however, usually wore the regular " secesh" uniforms. EDDY McPADDM. 'Two days after the battle of Shiloh, says Ge6. Rous- seau, I walked into the hospital tent on the ground where the fiercest contest had taken place, and where many of our men and those of the enemy had fallen. The hos- pital was exclusively for the wounded rebels, and they were laid thickly around. Many of them were Kentucki- ans, of Breckinridge's command. As I stepped into the tent, and spoke to some one, I was addressed by a voice, the childish tone of which arrested my attention — '• That's General Rousseau I General, I knew your son Dickey. Where is Dick? I knew him very well." Turning to him, I saw stretched on the ground a hand- some boy about sixteen years of age. His face was a bright one, but the hectic glow and flush on the cheeks, 11 162 A BRAVE BOY AND A GALLANT SAILOR. his restless manner, and his grasping and catching his breath as he spoke, aLarmed me. I knelt by his side and pressed his fevered brow with my hand, and would have taken the child into my arms, if I could. " And who are you, my son ?" said I. " Why, I am Eddy McFadden, from Louisville," was the reply. "I know you, General, and I know your son Dick. I've played with him. Where is Dick?" I thought of my own dear boy, of what might have befallen him; that he, too, deluded by villains, might, like this poor boy, have been mortally wounded, among strangers, and left to die. My heart bled for the poor child ; for he was a child ; my manhood gave way, and burning tears attested, in spite of me, my intense suffer- ing. I asked him of his father; he had no father. Your mother ? Pie had no mother. Brothers and sisters ? " I have a brother," said he. " I never knew what soldiering was. I was but a boy, and they got me off* down here." He was shot through the shoulder and lungs. I asked him what he needed. He said he was cold and the ground was hard. I had no tent nor blankets ; our bagarage was all in the rear at Savannah. But I sent the poor boy my saddle-blanket, and returned the next morning with lemons for him and the rest ; but his brother in the Second Kentucky regiment, had taken him over to his regiment to nurse him. I never saw the child again. He died in a day or two. Peace to his ashes. I never think of this incident that I do not fill up as if he were my own child. BEAVE EOT AND A GALLANT SAILOE. One of the powder boys on the Bienville, Wm. Henry Steele by name, deserves particular attention. He is only fourteen years old, a bright, active fellow, and performed his duties with signal bravery. It was his duty to hand A bra\t: boy and a gallant sailor. 163 cartridges to one of the gunners. "While the Bienville was in the thickest of the engagement, the balls whistled fiercely over the deck and splashed about in the water, but he never wavered. A large rifled shot struck the water some distance from the steamer, bounded upward, and crashing through the beam, tore through the bodies of two men standing near him at his gun, and wounded two others. He handed his cartridge to the gunner, and stepping over the bodies, brought a fresh supply of am- munition, with which he continued his labors. After the fight. Captain Steedman, in thanking his men for their noble conduct, especially commended the bravery of young Steele. During a part of the time the Bienville was the mark for almost the entire fire of both rebel bat- teries, and her crew displayed the greatest heroism. The first shot fired at her struck, and was one of the most serious. Her guns were in such constant use that they became hot, and almost leaped from the deck at each discharge. It is really wonderful that her damage is so very immaterial. Beyond a hole between decks, another through the beam, just at the lower part of the gunwale, a cut shroud and a battered stove-pipe (not smoke-stack), she is unharmed. , The Wabash also came in for a large share of the fight. A cannon-shot passed along her deck, and struck Thomas Jackson, the coxswain. The ball nearly carried away one of his legs, leaving it so that it hung only by shreds of flesh and skin. Leaning against a gun, he drew out his sheath-knife, and tried to cut it off entirely. The knife was too dull, and his shipmates hastened to him, and carried him below. He kept continually asking how .the fight progressed, saying, " I hope we'll win ; I hope we'll beat them." He died in two hours, his lust words expressing happiness that he had done something for his country. 164 CHARACTERISTIC INCIDENT. CHAEACTEEISTIO nrOIDENT. ' An incident of adventure characteristic of the Anderson Zouaves, and of rigorous barbarism characteristic of the blood-earnest warfare of these rebels. One day, Henry Oehl, of company G, Anderson Zouaves, with a comrade went forward to a distant farm house, to get information and enlarge his topographical knowledge of Virginia. The farmer came into the yard, and a conversation sprang up between the thi-ee. " Suddenly," said Oehl, " twenty rebel soldiers rose like ghosts from the edge of the woods just beyond the house, and rushed towards us, calling to us to surrender. Not being much in that line of business, we raised our pieces and let fly at them." They returned the fire. A ball struck Oehl's right hand, knocked his musket out of it, and entered the abdomen at the centre, and went out at the left side. To run had now become a duty. Oehl doubled the corner of the house, and made for the nearest recesses of the White Oak Swamp, via a corn-field, and the bushy covers of a line of old rail-fence. The chase was a keen one. ^ Oehl's coolness, cunning, and courage saved him. Em- bosomed in the swamp, he watched his own hurt, and plugged the wound through his abdomen with his fingers. Soon he saw his pursuers return to the house, talk a moment with the farmer, and gesticulate forcibly to the doomed man. Some seized him, and some entered his house. The hidden Zouave was near enough to the build- ing to catch the sounds within of the shrieking of children. Immediately these rushed out of the door, followed by a smoke, and soon by a flame. The ruffians burned tho Virginian's house over his head, for the crime of talking with Northern soldiers who entered his yard. BALLIE RICHMOND AND DE■^^L BILL. 165 SALLIE EIOHMOND AND DEVIL BILL The. falls of the New River are very frag'^ant; the water thunders down towards the Gauley from one preci- pice to another, almost coutinually ; pausing but a mo- ment at the feet of its wild leaps, in boiling caldrons, as if bewildered, and awaiting strength for new and wilder leaps. Throughout its entire course in Virginia, there are but a few rods of calm water. At these points are fords or ferries, usually the latter. For one hundred miles from the mouth of New River there are but three good ferries, and of course are known far and near, throughout the country. The first is Richmond Ferry, and seventy-five miles from the falls of the Gauley. The other two are known as Pacli:'s Upper and Lower Ferry. These ferries, then, are the only means of intercourse between the valleys north and south of the river, and necessary points of occupation to an army operating on both sides of the river. Yet the rough mountain roads will not admit of sufficient transportation to subsist any considerable number of troops, and the Federal forces sought to maintain control of the ferries, by frequently sending scouting parties to them and their neighborhoods, while the rebel •' bushwackers," and guerrilla parties, for the same purpose, hovered continually around them. While affairs stood thus, my regiment was ordered to Raleigh C. H. We found the House of the Court perfo- rated with loop-holes, and every brick dwelling in the village converted into an embrasured fortification, with look out and all appurtenances of a besieged city. Our troops had been threatened by the rebels from Richmond Ferry, during the winter, and these precautions had been taken in anticipation. Shortly after our arrival at Raleigh C. H., Capt. Warner, of Union County, was detailed with one hundred picked men — among whom were many of the Jerome and Belle Point boys — to visit Richmond 166 SALLIE RICHMOND AND DEVIL BILL. Ferry, and cut off the retreat of a body of guerrillas, who had made a raid on the north side of the river, to destroy rebel property, and take as prisoners, or kill all suspi- cious characters in the neighborhood. Towards the close of the first day the command neared the river. Advance and flanking parties were thrown out from the main body, and the troops moved down from the mountain toward the ferry. A large opening suddenly burst mto view and the large bottom farm of the proprietor of the ferry lay stretched out before them. Presently Eichmond him- self came out to meet them. He was a tall athletic man, and past the meridian of life ; he carried a long and heavy rifle on his shoulder and a large hunter's knife dangled from the strap of his deer-skin bullet pouch. " Hellow, thar," said he on nearing us, " who are you ?" " Federal troops, sir," answered the captain, " Well, I reckoned so the moment I sot my eyes on them thar blue coats of your'n, Whar you goin' ?" " Down to the ferry, sir," " Come along, then ; old Eichmond's the very man you are huntin' for, eh ?" " Yes ; are you Eichmond ?" " I reck'n I am." " They tell me you are a true Union man, Mr. Rich- mond ?" " Well, I reck'n thar ain't ary better one in these moun- tains than old Sam Eichmond, unless it be my boy Bill, 'Devil Bill;' you've hear'n of him up thar at Ealeigh G. H., I reck'n ?" " Oh yes," said the captain. " Lead on, Mr. Richmond.'' The old man took the trail down the mountain, fol- lowed by the captain and his men. They shortly came to the cleared field through which the path led down to the •' Eichmond House." As they approached the old man's dwelling, a young lady, of apparently " two score seasons," came out to meet them ; the old man in his off hand, rude way, said, " Well, Sallie, here's Capt. Warner SALLIE RICHMOND AND DEVIL BILL. 167 and some troops, come down to the ferry ' on business ;' the captain is tired and hungry; get us some supper, for more than likely thar'll be something for us to do, soon, eh, captain?" " Yes, if our scouts drive down that party of scoundrels upon Blue Stone, they will come here to cross, and we must be on the lookout for them, and assist them in crossing a much darker stream than New River." •' That's it," said the old man ; " come in, captain." Sallie speedily "spread the cloth and set the table," then turning to Captain Warner, she said, "Set up, cap- tain, supper is ready; we boarded Gen. Floyd four weeks last fall, and he sat in that same chair and at that same table, day after day ; we are glad to change boarders." Sallie waited on the table, and then, attracted by some noise, went to the door. " Some one over thar," she said, pointing towards the river ; " hollered twice, then once, then twice." " All right," said the old man, " that's our signal, cap- tain ; I'll go down and bring the man over." " I'll go myself," said Sallie, and she was off instantly. The old man sat down again at the table, and turning to the captain, he said — " Good girl, that thar Sallie." " I have no doubt of it," answered the captain, " Them's her'n," and the old man pointed to a double- barrelled shotgun and cartridge-box, suspended on hooks from the wall. " Does she use them ?" asked the captain. "Indeed she does, sir; and I reckon as how she ain't afear'd lo, either. A soldier gave her the box, and my Bill gave her the gun. He took it from a secesher. You've hear'n of ' Devil Bill' up to Raleigh Court House, eh?" " Yes, I've heard of him." Sallie shortly after entered the house with the stranger she had rowed across the river. He was dressed in th» 168 SALLIE RICHMOND AND DEVIL BILL, Lome-made butternut style, with fringed trimmings on his hunting-shirt, and accoutred like Richmond, The old man greeted him warmly, and introduced him to the captain as " one of the Union men" who had stood by him in several scrapes he had with the "bushwhackers and guerrillas, and there are several more of 'em, true blue ; how would you like 'em to come down and give us a lift to-night, eh?" " Very much, Mr, Richmond ; tell them all to come," said the captain. The old man said a few words in a low tone to the stranger, who shortly after left the house and took a path down the river, and was almost immediately out of sight. The captain went out to visit his pickets, and the old man went with him, and at his suggestion new posts w^ere located, a few old ones abandoned, and others strengthened. They returned to the house confident and expectant. About nine o'clock the sentinel at the door cried out " Who goes there ?" The captain and Richmond hastened out ; six armed men stood out in the field but a short distance from the sentinel, who had cocked his musket and " covered" the party, " Friends !" said one of the men. " That's so," said Richmond ; " come on, boys," " Let them come, sentinel," said the captain ; and the party came up, " AH right ?" asked the old man. " Yes," said one of the men, " and more of our boys down thar comin'." They all went into the house and gathered around the fire. The new comers were dressed like the stranger, in suits of butternut, and fringed hunting-shirts, and each bore a heavy rifle, a knife, and pouch. As each sat down he drew from his pouch a pipe of the hemlock root, filled it with tobacco, lighted it, and silently awaited events. The challenge of the sentinel became more and more fre- * BALLIE RICHMOND AND DEVIL BILL. 169 quent. until full twenty of Eiclimond's men had come in, and then it ceased altogether. They Avere strange-look- ing men, and as they gathered round the old hearth-stone, with their long rifles, their knives and pipes, and dressed in uniform suits of butternut, and fringed hunting-shirts, they presented a picture one might do well to study — a picture one might go back a century to find a counterpart for, and one from which a few steps — to the troops outside — would, like Rip Van AVinkle, take you a century ahead. After midnight the captain and Richmond again visited the pickets. Everything was quiet, and they returned to Richmond's house. The old man loaded his pipe, and the two sat down by the fire. "You say your son Bill is up at Raleigh C. H., Mr. Richmond?" said the captain. " Yes, ' Devil Bill,' they call him, in these mountains ; I reckon you're hearin' of him up there to Raleigh C. H., captain ?" " Yes, he was taken once by the rebels, I believe." " Yes he war, an' I'll tell you how, captain, though it's a long story, and may be you won't like to hear it all ?" " Oh yesj" said the captain, " go on, by all means, Mr. Richmond." " Well, ever since the seceshers got to carryin' on so, Bill has been sot agin 'em, and me and neighbor Boggs, and Bill, and these other fellars here to-night, would come here and meet in my barn. Well, we determined to fight if they disturbed us; we said fight, and we meant it, captain ; there ain't a single Richmond, male or female, that won't fight." " I believe it," said the captain, as he turned his eyes to the shotgun and cartridge box against the wall. "Well," continued the old man, "the seceshers got quite impudent, and as it took some time to gather our band together, they attempted to cut us off' singly ; but we got wind of it, and night after night I got into my boat and went down the rapids to the ' island,' for 170 SALLIE RICHMOND AND DEVIL BILL. safety. One night thej came to the house here, I war on the island, and Sallie an' the old ■woman war alone. They tried to frighten Sallie, to make her tell whar I war, but she got mad, and war for pitchin' in to fight 'em, sin- gle-handed, and so soon after they went away. At length Bill, and several of these fellars had to leave 'kase Floyd's men war 'round thick, and it war no use to fight then, agin so many ; so they took to the brush, and 'riz the mountain' back here, on their way to Pinch Gut Creek. " Well, they were gone more'n a month, and we begin to git oneasy 'bout 'em. So Sallie said she'd find 'em out, and taking a basket of ' pone,' and shouldering her gun, and sticking my pistol in her belt, she riz the mountain back here and started toward Punch Gut Creek, She travelled on until noon, when she came to the creek, 'bout ten miles from here, I reckon, and hunted up and down a good while, every now and then calling for Bill. But she couldn't find him, nor ary one of the other fellars, but she kept on huntin', and at last she thought she would fire ofi:' the pistol. Well, Bill hear'n it, and sa3-s he to John, thar," and Richmond pointed to one of the sleeping Virginians, " ' there, that's dad's pistol, John ;' and you see John had something of a liking for Sallie, so says he to Bill, ' and I shouldn't be surprised if it war Sallie, comin' out to find us, so just hide in here and I'll holler,' Well, he hoUored, and Sallie knew the voice mighty quick, I reckon, and soon found them under a big rock ; after sharing among them her ' pone,' and giving them words of comfort and cheer, she left them. She left them, and came back home that same night 'bout ten, I reckon. " Well, after Floyd went away, the bushwhackers were worse than ever, but Bill nor me didn't fear 'em. So Bill and the boys came back, and the seceshers hearin' on it, I reckon, they thought they had a fine chance now to 'rub us out,' So they came down to the river at night, intendin' to cross over in the mornin' early. But we heard they war j.comin', and we jest called in all these here boys, and BALLIE RICHMOND AND DEVIL BILL. ITl some other fellers came along, 'kase Floyd had retreated, and they wanted to be thought good Union men, for fear of voa Yankees, So they came too, and we put out some of the boys to watch, and slept in the barn all night. Well, 'bout daylight, I thought I saw a secesher, on t'other side of the river, fixin' a canoe to cross over in ; so says I to John, 'Your eyes are young, can you see ary secesher cross the river?' But 'bout that time I seed them plain enough myself, so I just ran out round the barn to get a good sight on 'em. Well, sir, the whole gang let drive at me, and the balls whistled awfully against the barn. Bill an' John, and these fellers here, came out, and we got a little nearer the seceshers, and peppered away at them, shot for shot. But the new fel- lers that came down to help us took to the brush and riz the mountain. Well, we kept afiring till long after, breakfast, whenever we could see the shadow of a se- cesher on t'other bank. After a while, Sallie put some- thing for us to eat in a basket and wound 'round the mountain to whar them new fellers war, and wanted one of 'em to bring it down to us, but nary one would come, and Sallie jist threw her shotgun on her shoulder, and says she, ' I'll go myself, then, 3'ou cowards !' They told her she'd get killed if she did, for the balls was jist hailin* all over the bottom. But Sallie never minded 'em a bit, and came right on; several shots were fired as she came down, but none hit her, and Sallie had the satisfaction to see us eat our breakfasts in that old corn crib out thar, which we used as a fort; pretty good one, I reckon, warn't it, captain ?" " Very good," answered the captain ; " were any of vou hit?" " Some of the boys got little scratches, but none were killed. Sallie Avas in high dudgeon about them * new fellers,' and we seed she war mad ; so John thar pointed out a secesher, cross the river, and she blazed away Avith her shot-gun at him, but I reckon the thing didn't carry 1*12 SALLIE RICHMOND AND DEVIL BILL. more'n half way, 'kase you see, captain, 'twere nigh onto two hundred yards, I reckon. Well, 'bout noon^the se- ceshers drew oftj an' that's the last big time we've had down here, captain. The corn-crib was pretty well bat- tered with the balls, and the roof looked more like a 'corn sieve,' than a 'corn shed.' " Three balls struck the house : here, one went through right thar," said the old man, pointing to the shivered window-sash, " and went out through that door thar ; one tore that hole in the door cheek thar; and another went through and through the puncheon." The old man lighted his pipe, and remained silent and thoughtful some time. " Well, about Bill," prompted our captain, " you haven't told me how he was taken, yet." . "Just come to that very point, captain, and now I'll tell you how it all war. Bill were allers a venturesome chap, and willin' to fight anything from a 'cap' down to nothin'. So the folks round here got to callin' him 'Devil Bill'. I reckon you've hearn of him up to Ealeigh C. H., captain." "Yes." "Well, thar war a company of Jenkinses Cavalry up here at 'Jumpin Branch,' on the road to Pack's lower ferry, and last winter they killed three of your men who were out on a scout, an' so Bill thought he would jist go up thar an' see what they war doin', bein' as how they war strangers to him and wouldn't know him. Well, Bill went up thar, and stayed round among 'em a good while, and then went into the tavern, and sot down in the bar- room. The captain war in thar, and he war a blowin' 'bout the cussed Yankees, and said the Union war all smashed up. Bill couldn't stand that, so he let the cap- tain have a little piece of his mind on that subject; and the captain jumped right up, and, says he, 'Have a care, young man, or I'll have you took up !' " ' I aint afeared of you,' said Bill, ' nor eny other traitor.' SALLIE RICHMOND AND DEVIL BILL. 173 " ' Call me a traitor,' said the captain, coming up to Bill with a revolver in his hand ; ' call me a traitor, you cursed liar I' " Well, Bill would never take the ' lie,' so he jist up and knocked the captain down, and the captain hollered out, ' Seize him ! seize him ! !' Well, some feller came in, then, who knowed Bill, and he told them who he war, and they were awfully pleased, I reckon, over the capture of Devil Bill. You've hearn of him up thar to Kaleigh C. H., I reckon, captain ?" " Yes ; go on." " Well, they kept Bill thar until next day, when they started for Newburn, they said, as they let on they war takin' him to Eichmond. They made Bill get up behind a big Irishman, and three other cavalrymen fol- lowed behind. After going two or three miles the three cavalrymen fell back, almost out of sight, and then the big Irishman says to Bill, 'Jump down, now, and run for life. I'll shoot towards you, to make them other fel- lers believe I shot at you, but I won't hit you.' But Bill understood the trick. He knew that several of our neigh- bors had been killed in that same way, so he said nothin' and jist rode on. " ' Ain't you goin' to run ?' asked the Irishman. "'No, I ain't,' said Bill " So the Irishman got wrothy, and swore he'd shoot Bill if he didn't. Well, Bill kinder let on he war getting off) but instead of that he war getting out his long pocket knife, and suddenly seizing the Irishman by the hair, he drew his head back, and with all his might buried his knife in his throat. The feller struggled awfully, and both he and Bill fell from the horse, and in the meantime Bill gave him three or four hard stabs. The Irishman got up to his feet, and after one wild look, fell dead. Well, the other fellers came a galloping up, as fast as they could, and Bill just cut the dead Irishman's carbine from it3 straps, and took to the brush. Well, the cavalrymen 174 6ALLIE RICHMOND AND DEVIL BILL. came up and stopped tbar, looking at the dead Irishman. Bill war not far off, neither, I reckon. He war just behind a big chestnut, but a few feet from the road ; and, waiting till he got a good chance, he blazed away with his car- bine, and one of the other fellers fell from his horse, and the other two started back towards 'Jumping Branch' in a desperate hurry, I reckon. "Well, Bill seen that nothing more could be done, so he riz the mountain, and come right on to Ealeigh C. H. You've seen him thar, I reckon, captain ?' " Did he kill the last man ?" "No, he war only wounded, and his comrades took him away shortly after. But 1 can show you the grave of the Irishman to-day. They buried him close to the spot whar he war killed, and that war the way Bill war taken and got away, captain," The old man knocked the ashes from his pipe, coolly loaded, lighted, and smoked on as before. His story was ended. At length morning came, and with it the news that the rebels had crossed the river at some point down the stream. The captain then determined to cross over, and attack a body of secesh a few miles beyond, at tlie house of one Colonel Henry and under his command. Sallie was up betimes, and soon had the breakfast ready. About nine the command was taken across the river in boats, Sallie assisting in moving the boats. After the last man stepped on the shore, Sallie followed. Her shot- gun was on her shoulder and the cartridge-box hung at her side. " Why, Miss Eichmond, you ain't going with us, are you?" asked the captain in surprise. '•'Indeed I am, captain. I reckon I'd like a shot at them fellers, as well as any on you," The command moved forward rapidly and with cau- tion, making prisoners of every man they met in order to prevent the intelligence of their approach reaching the enemy. Finally the prisoners accumulated to quite a KENTUCK AGAINST KENTUCK. 175 number, and it was thought advisable to leave them with a small guard, while the command, less encumbered could push on more rapidly. The captain requested Sallie to remain as a part of the guard, which she con- sented to, and faithfully discharged her trust. Col. Henry and his followers found it. convenient to retire before the Federal troops, and when they entered his dwelling, they found the nest yet warm, but the bird had flown. Some prisoners were taken, a little more scouting done in the neighborhood, and the captain took his troops back to the river. Sallie, as before, assisted them over, and welcomed them at the house of her father. Shortly after the troops took up their march for Raleigh C. H., where they ar- rived the evening of the fourth day, very tired, but exceedingly well pleased with their scout to Richmond Ferry. The captain recommended the young unmarried officers of the regiment to visit the ierry, if for no other purpose than to see Sallie, and he himself soon made the acquaintance of Devil Bill— Shortly after the return of the scouting party, the officers of the 30th sent an invita- tion to Sallie to visit Raleigh C. H., and engaged to pre sent her with a revolver, on her arrival, but the regiment was almost immediately after ordered on to Prinoetoi^ and Sallie never made the visit. EXNTUOK AGADIST KENTUOK. In the rebel charge upon McCook's right in the battle of Stone River, the rebel Third Kentucky was advancing full upon one of the loyal Kentucky regiments. These two regiments were brought from the same county, and consequently were old friends and neighbors, and now about to meet for the first time as enemies. As soon aa they came near enough for recognition, they mutually ceased firing, and began abusing, and cursing and swear- KG THE scon's REVENGE. ing at each other, calhng each other the most outlandish names ; and all this time the battle was roaring around them w'tbout much attention from either side. It was hard to tell which regiment would come otY the victor in this wordy battle. As for as I could see. both sides were terrible at swearing ; but this could not always last ; by mutual consent they finalh"- ceased cursing, and grasping their muskets charged into each other with the most un- earthly yell ever heard on any field of battle. Muskets were clubbed, bavonet met bayonet, and in many instan- ces, when old feuds made the belligerents crazy with pas- sion, the musket was thrown away, and at it they went, pummelling, pulling, and gouging in rough and tumble style, and in a manner that any looker-on would consider a free fight. The rebels were getting rather the better of the fight, when the Twenty-third Kentucky succeeded in giving a flanking fire, when they retreated with quite a number of prisoners in their possession. The rebels had got fairly under weigh, when the Ninth Ohio came Tip on the double-quick, and charging on their now dis- ordered ranks, siicceeded in capturing all their prisoners, besides taking in return a great many of the rebels. As the late belligerents were conducted to the rear tbey ap- peared to have forgotten their late animosity, and were now on the best terms imaginable, laughing, and chatting, and joking, and, as the rebels were well supplied with whiskey, the canteens were readily handed about from one to the other, until they all became as joUj as possible under the circumstances. THE SCOUT'S EEVEN'GE. Night had settled down upon the array of the Potomac, and except in the tent of a general, quiet reigned in the camp. The river rolled placidly along, as though no hostile forces lined its banks, and Washincrton looked THE scout's revenge. ItT peaceful, as if no devil were trying to pluck some stars from the flag which floated over the Capitol. But the measured tramp of the sentinel, and the quick low-toned challenge to the straggler hurrying to quarters, told the story of the struggle that was going on. In the tent of the general, grouped round a small table on which were spread maps of the country, sat several oflicers, eagerly discussing a point upon which opinions diftered. It was an informal council of war, and the of- ficer in command, while he listened carefully, refrained from giving his judgment in the matter — flattering first this one with symptoms of agreement with him, or com- Elimenting that one on the clearness of his views, while e drew from some of the more bashful of the party what they thought. To none was he more polite than to a young man of fine address, whose shoulder-straps claimed for him the rank of colonel. No greater contrast could be found than ■between the faces of the general and his subordinate. Both had keen eyes, and would Vje called handsome men anywhere ; but the features of the elder wore an open, manly look, while those of the younger bore a sinister cast, that did much to destroy his otherwise good looks. The colonel was evidently ill at ease, and though he re- turned the polite attentions of the general as a gentleman would, he did not venture to meet the steady gaze that accompanied the honeyed words. Just at the moment the discussion was at the hottest, the sentry announced a messenger. " Show him in," said the general, and the man entered with a respectful salute. " "We will resume this to-morrow, gentlemen,*' he said, bowing to the party, w-ho, taking the hint, immediately dispersed to their several quarters. " Well. Hardy, what success ?" said the general, turning to the scout who stood leaning on his rifle. He was well worth studying — a tall, lean man, with stooping shoulders, a face thin and sallow, with rambling legs, but his eyea 12 178 THE scout's revenge. glistened as if on fire. His body, ungainly as it vras, gave promise of great strength, and the long sweep of his arm, joined to the grasp of his immense hand as he ca- ressingly held his Aveapon to his breast, would have warned "his foes that it was unsafe to try conclusions with him at too close quarters. On every line of his counte nance, marked as it was with inexpressible sadness, werfi written honesty and firmness, so that you felt what he said could be trusted. " A leetle, gineral," he said, looking cautiously about. "Be we alone?" he added, in an undertone. The general stepped to the door of the tent, but nothing could be seen except the sentry pacing his usual beat. The scout, hoAvever, was not satisfied, and walking briskly out he approached the rear of the tent, when a hasty foot- step was heard retreating. He listened carefully, at the same time keeping his trusty rifle ready for use, but the footsteps died away in the distance, and he returned to the tent. "Some drunken soldier, Hardy," said the general, a little annoyed at the occurrence. "It shall be looked to to-morrow." " Maybe so," said the scout, leaning on his rifle, and refusing to be seated. " Yit his pace war mighty stiddy for a man in liquor." "Well, he is gone now, so let us to business," said tho general, a little testily. "Watch D'Arblay, general," said the scout. "He's in high favor where I've been to-day, and that ain't no great praise for a Union man." " Did you reach the village, then ?" asked the general, his eyes fixed upon Hardy's face. "Twas there afore twelve o'clock, and by luck fell in with an Alabamy regiment. So, as I was real Virginny," and a mocking smile lit up the sallow face, " I mixed in with the boys." " You are venturesome, Hardy," said the other. " If THE scout's revenge 179 they catcli you they will show no mercy. Already your name is known the country round, and a reward offered for you." "They can't hurt me no worse than they hev, gineral. I went by the homestead to-day, and the ashes are there yet. The fire that burned the old place wint into my heart, and I ain't afeard of being ketched till my work's done." " Do they know how strong we are in this place ?" asked the general. "To a man, gineral. And they're a chuckling might- ily over it. 'Tain't no secret at all, and they don't make no bones of saying they hev good friends in your cam.p. Did I tell you to watch D'Arblay, gineral?" '^and the scout fingered the lock of his rifle, looking out upon the white city which lay before him. Suddenly he started and threw himself in the shadow of the curtain which hung at the door of the tent, A moment he stood so, and then, swiftly bringing his rifle to his shoulder, a quick report was heard, and Hardy turned to the tent. The startled sentry hastened to inquire the cause, but the imperturbable old man carelessly explained that he had only fired off* his load, and, as his eccentricity was well known, that ended it. But he bent low and whis- pered to the general, "Keep watch on D'Arblay — a close watch — gineral," and gave vent to a chuckle that shook his body till his bones rattled. An hour later and the little camp that lay as an out- post of the great army was stirring with new life. No rapid beat to arms roused the sleeping soldiers, but swift messengers moved among the white tents, and at their Bummons the men shook slumber from their eyelids, and eagerly took their positions in the ranks. A secret expedition, and at night — of all things the greatest delight of the true soldier — so much was clear ; but in what direction, or against what force, none knew ; 180 THE scout's revenge. yet the ignorance did not clieck the undisguised pleasure of the men, as they p'romptly obeyed the "fall in" of the orderly. It was enough that they were in the enemy's country, on soil once sacred, but now desecrated by the footsteps of rebellion, and so the blow was effectual, they cared not where it fell. With the officers it might be a little different, and some hastening to the general's tent for instructions were met by an aid who gave hasty information for the marshalling of the forces. No one was trusted with the secret of the movement, and they who persistently sought the com- manding officer found at the entrance of his tent only an old man, leaning on his rifle. Those who had been at the council readily connected the singular individual with the present movement ; while they who for the first time looked upon his tall form, apparently bent with age and infirmity, did not dream that this was the scout whose deeds were the theme of conversation about the camp- fires, and whose escapes puzzled at once both friend and foe. Hardy stood watching the gathering of the men with a grim smile playing about his lips. To the numerous in- quiries that poured in upon him he gave no answer save that he knew nothing, and the questioner returned no wiser than he came. At last everything was ready, and the order given to march. Stealthily creeping out among the shadows of the night went a little band of fifteen hundred men, not one of whom knew where he was bound. Just as the last company left the camp, the general came to the door of his tent, and stretched out his hand to the scout. Hardy took it like a man who felt himself the peer of an emperor. " I have run a great risk. Hardy," he said. " If you have deceived me" — he stopped, for even the starlight could not hide the pained expression that stole across the scout's face — " or if you have deceived yourself, the con- THB SCCmT'S REVENGE. 181 sequences may "be terrible no less to these brave fellows than to me." " I hev told you the truth, glneral," he said proudly. " We hev fifteen hundred men, and they ain't less than four thousand. It mought be a hard fight, but we kin git the best of 'em for all that. But ef you've any mis- givings, gineral, 'tain't too late yit. It's easy callin' of 'em back agin, though the boys looked mighty well pleased at the chance for a brush ' with the critters.' "^ At this moment there was a halt in the expedition, having reached a fork in the road. The general hastily wrung the scout's hand, and, as he said, hurriedly, " No, no, I trusted you, and will not repent," Hardy returned the pressure till the more delicate hand of the officer felt as if it were in a vice, and immediately pressed forward to the van of the detachment. When he reached it, the road became clear, and at the command " forward 1" the troopa marched on. How fared it with the rebels during these stirring mat- ters among their enemies ? Peacefully slumbering among the hills, and dreaming of anything but an attack from a foe they knew to be so inferior in numbers. They were a motley lot. For the most part composed of that class known as "poor whites" in the South, strangely clad and but half disciplined, they would have dispersed from their own internal discord, had not their officers restrained them. But the officers were vastly superior to the men. Deserters from the Federal army, in which they had found both education and subsistence, they turned their talents against their country, and gave a life to the rebellion it could not have had otherwise. On this evening, while the men sat smoking about their fires, alternately asserting the superiority of their own States and cursing the cowardly Yankees, as they called all Federal soldiers, in not very choice language, a knot of officers were gathered in consultation. 182 THE scout's revenge. " Has anything been heard from D'Arblaj, to-day 7" asked one with a colonel's strap upon his shoulders. " Nothing," said a captain to whom the question was addressed. " Our messenger brought a note from him yesterday that a council of war would be held to-night. We shall have word from him to-morrow." " Yes, yes, I saw it," said the colonel. " I hope they will resolve to fight. I'm getting tired of this inaction. Who is this Hardy he cautions us about ?" " One of the enemy's scouts," said the captain, " They tell marvellous tales of him, and even our tents ring with his exploits. This very spot was his farm, and yonder .chimney stack the remains of his house. The man was a Tory, and barely escaped with his life." The colonel was thoughtful a moment. " Was this the man whose family ? Well, never mind, such things must be in war. Keep a lookout for him, and if caught, give him short shrift — he may be dangerous." Just then the tattoo was beat, and with a courteous good-night the officers separated. " I wish we could get along without such fellows as D'Arblay," said one young officer to another, as they strolled along the camp. " I don't mind killing the Yan- kees, but I like a little fair play about it. This game of his can't last very long, and he'll be coming amongst us." " Don't be too nice," said the other. " By and by you'll be abusing Burton for this Hardy business. I hear h? and his Arkansas man did that nice little job." " For God's sake, don't talk so," said the other, shud- dering. " I have not heard all, but 'twas a brutal thing." "You'll want a dictionary to give an adjective strong enough when you do hear it all. They say the old man refused to haul down his flag and shot one of our men, when they fired his house, and only Hardy escaped. Burton stood by and saw it done. The women beaten back by the bayonets did not scream, but turned hope- lessly inward. It is a mystery how Hardy got away, but THE scout's revenge. 183 he has been seen since, and lives only for revenge. But, as the colonel says, such things must be in war. Good- night !" and they parted at the entrance of a tent. While quiet reigns in the rebel camp, the little band we have seen set out under the scout's guidance is cau- tiously advancing. On through belts of woodland, over hills, and across some of the small streams with which the country abounds, they marched silently but surely on their pre3\ The scout looked like a new man. His tall form v/as no longer bent; or, rather, it did not appear so, as he strode along at the head of the column. The sallow face was lit up with intelligence, and a gleam of ferocity shot from his eyes ; the road was as familiar to him as the beaten paths about his lost homestead, but he trusted nothing to chance. Not a sound escaped his practised ear, nor an unusual appearance the keen scrutiny of his eye, and more than once he called a halt, while he reconnoitred in the darkness. At last they reached the foot of a hill, when Hardy whispered to the colonel in command, and, while the troops rested on their arms, he went forward alone. Creeping up the ascent, keeping in the shadow of the trees, lest even the feeble starlight should reveal his pres- ence, he reached the summit and flung himself upon the grass. Beneath him lay the white tents of the enemy, clustering around the ruins of his homestead. A quick glance showed him that no reinforcements had, as yet, reached them, and with almost as much pleasure he saw their number was not diminished. If any change there had been, an increase of the foe would have better suited his humor. Not a man less ; for the vengeance that lired his heart burned to strike a blow never to be forgotten. The out-lying pickets passed close to the spot where he lay concealed, and as a surprise was intended, he bent his mind to the task of disposing of them. Lazily walk- ing to and fro, peering now and then out into the nigh^ 184 THE scout's revengb. the rebel sentry tliouglit of his southern home, heedless of the danger which crouched at his very feet. With such men as Hardy, action follows thought as the thunder "belches from the storm-cloud right over head, when the swift lightning cleaves its way to earth ; so quickly does the one follow the other, that they seem simultaneous. The sentry came forward, humming an air learned in the cotton fields of his own native State. A sharp noise, as of a footstep on a rotten stick, startled him ; but before he could give an alarm or call for help, the hot breath of an enemy was upon his cheek and his throat was grasped by the sinewy hand of the scout; the struggle was brief. At all times, it was not easy to find Hardy's match, and now, standing in sight of his ruined home, the remem- brance of his wrongs gave him the strength of a giant. There was a wild striking out of the arms, a clawing of the hands, a blackening of the face, horrible even in the starlight, until the knees gave way, and the picket fell a lifeless body upon the sward. Not a ray of pity, not a pang of regret fell upon the heart of the scout. To him it mattered nothing that this picket had done him no harm ; no vision of a southern hearth made desolate, or of the long agony he had pre- pared for some aching heart because he did not come, moved him. Apart from his duty to the little band who waited his guidance, the sight of the low chimney stack, standing a solitary guardian over the ashes of his home, not only strengthened his arm, but repelled all sympathy with the enemy as a weakness to be swiftly trodden under foot. To him they were all alike. Did not the flames of his house light up a strange banner, and did not that same banner wave above the encampment so quiet below ? All alike, all alike to the man — no, not all; one stood out among the throng. When Burton meets this victim of his m the coming struggle, it were well he were shriven before the fight, for Hardy has a special vow of vengeance iigainst him, and willekecute it at'all risks. THE scout's revengs, 1 85 The scout carefully drew the body of the poor wretch out of the path, and seizing his musket, while he put his trusty rifle in a safe place, boldly took up the dead man's beat. Time was flying fast; the morning would soon break, and he must needs hurry his movements ; so, taking as near as possible the gait of the picket he had slain, he walked towards his comrade. The darkness of the night favored his disguise, and the other met him without sus- picion. Hardy clutched at him with his left hand, while he made a swift movement with his right. There was a gurgling in the throat, a tide of warm blood gushed out, and formed a pool at his feet, and the second picket had started on his last journey. So far, the way was clear. What obstruction might be upon the hillside he did not know nor care ; once get the men upon the summit unobserved, and all was safe. Turning hastily, stopping only to pick up his rifle and listen, lest the struggles in which he had been engaged should have disturbed the quiet of the camp, he passed with quick steps down the slope, and put himself by the colonel's side at the head of the detachment. The men lost all sense of weariness as they advanced np the hill. But for the order for perfect silence, they would have given cheer upon cheer, so eager were they for the fray ; as it was, they pushed on vigorously, drag- ging the mountain howitzers which accompanied their march as easily as though they were some child's toys they handled, and very soon reached the top of the ascent. Here resting for a moment, to gather breath, and find proper positions for their " bull-dogs," as they called the howitzers, the little band nerved themselves for the work before them. The gray dawn was already breaking in the east, pal- ing the stars nearest the horizon, as Hardy pointed out to the colonel the arrangements of the enemy. " You kin take 'em front, kurnel, and your chance is ] 86 THE scout's revenge. inain good ; but I s'pose you'll make it surer by flanking the devils," hinting rather than advising the movement. "See," he continued, pointing with his long, bony fin- gers, " there's the boys from South Car'lina right oppo- site* the Arkansaw men lie by yon chimney stack. Ef I niought, I'd ask a favor before the fighting begins," said the scout, hesitatingly. " Speak it freely, Hardy," said the colonel kindly, with an anxious look, the while, at the brightening east. " 'Tain't a long one," said Hardy, who had caught the movement of the colonel's eye, " and the boys '11 be better for getting their wind. You know, mebbe, I had a home about here ?" The colonel nodded assent. Something in the scout's face made words needless. " This was my farm, and that chimney yonder all that's left of the old house. Don't be afraid, kurnel. I ain't a going to tell a long story. Not that it's going to be for- gotten, but I shan't talk about it. I'm satisfied if we only clean out that hornets' nest down thar, and I thought, seein' as I know the old place so well, I could pilot a couple of hundred so as to take 'em behind." " You shall have them, Hardy," said the colonel, send- ing an aid at once with orders for detailing the necessary number. The scout looked on with eager eyes. "And now, kurnel," he said, baring his head, and pushing back the thin hair which straggled over his forehead, stretching out his hand, at the same time, to the officer, '' I mought as well say, ' good-by.' My work's most done, and ef I don't come out of this skrimmage, tell the gineral how glad I am he trusted me this once. You're goin' to flax 'em out, kurnel, and the quicker the better, for mornin's comin' on," and he wrung his hand with a will. Hardy led his two hundred men quickly away along the top of the hill, till he reached a deep gorge, now dry, but in the rainy season the bed of a hillside stream, which THE SCOtTT's REVENGE. 18T formed and fretted in its course as though no stop could be put to its ravages. In this they turned, and, trusting to the morning gloom, made their way to the back of the camp. The main body felt their way down the hillside. It was not exactly the place for company movements, and a drill-sergeant would hardly have approved the irregu- larity of their march ; but the men grasped their pieces in fighting humor, and welcomed the coming struggle as eagerly as does the maiden her first ball. About half the distance towards the camp had been passed over when a sentry discovered the advancing rank, and, firing his piece to give the alarm, fled hastily to the camp. There was no time to lose ; silence was no longer observed. The commands of the ofBicers rang out on the morning air, and, at the word, the men rushed upon the enemy. Down the hill, along the open space, where the rebel soldiery were wont to drill, they broke over the slight entrenchment with a yell of delight, and a fierce hand-to-hand encounter began. Struggling among the white tents the rebel soldiery rushed to their arms, half-clad, while a few hundred gathered to the right of the camp, only to be dispersed by shell from the howitzers, which fell among their ranks. There was nothing for it but a retreat, and the beaten and scattered forces huddled together in the rear of the camp, where a new danger met them. Hardy and his men came upon the field with a ringing cheer, and dashed into the fight. The scout's duty was done, and as he neither knew nor cared anything for military movements, he fought mainly by himself. A frenzy possessed him ; his eyes glared like a demon's, and his whole frame was animated with supernatural energy. Clubbing his rifle, he rushed along the narrow alleys of the camp, heedless of the knot of soldiers who slunk away at his coming, or vainly attempted to stop 188 f^ili scib'tT'^s rEVeMJ!. his progress, till he reached the encampment of the Arkan- sas men. A fierce struggle was in progress, and Burton, at the head of the backwoodsmen, was making a desperate stand. A shout broke from the lips of the scout, and in a moment he was in the middle of it. His long rifle, swung by his powerful arm, mowed a lane for him, and he pressed on till he stood in the presence of Burton himself. The Arkansas leader was no coward, and the defence had been a desperate one ; but he trembled when he saw Hardy facing him. He had seen him once before, when the white head and stern face was lit up by the burning dwelling. Even Burton, the gambler, the duellist, the bully, could not shut his soul up from dreams, and the face of the avenger had grown familiar even in his slum- bers. Instinctively he drew his bowie-knife from its sheath, and the scout, feeling for the keen weapon he carried in his belt, dropped his rifle, and stood face to face with his great enemy. There was no cry for quarter, and both were soon locked in fearful strife. A few rapid passes of their bright blades, and the Arkansas colonel threw up his arms with a sullen moan, and muttering a ^urse, fell a -sorpse at the feet of the scout. When the battle was over, Hardy was found leaning against the ruined chimney, the pallor of death spread over his face, while the body of the rebel chief lay a few feet from him. " You are not badly hurt, I hope," said the colonel, kindly ; "what can I do for you?" " Water," he gasped ; and on taking some from a can- teen, he revived a little. " My work's done, kurnel," he said, faintly, " and it's about time. There ain't no use in a dead stick, and the green branches are all gone. Ef you will, kurnel, tell the gineral I died under the old chimney, and that I sent the Arkansas chief to say I was comin'." WHY THE LIEUTENANT ATE THE PIE. 189 A grim emile passed over his face, whicli faded as his listeners stood by. " Take some more water, Hardy," said one, "bnt he did not answer. The colonel took his hand, but no pressure came from the sinewy fingers, A slight shiver passed through his frame, and the scout was dead. The victory was complete. A short time was spent burying the slain, and, laden with spoils, the conquerors returned to their camp. When they reached it, they learned that D'Arblay had been shot by the accidental discharge of a musket the night before. Only the general knew the truth. The despatches that found their way to the papers were very brief. There had been a night reconnoissance, and a rebel camp broken up, with great loss to the enemy. Hardy's name was not mentioned ; but few who were in the expedition will forget the tall form or underestimate the services of the scout. WHY THE LIEUTENANT ATE THE PIE. Gen. Grant, the hero and veteran, who was citizen, captain, colonel, brigadier-general, and major-general within the space of nine months, although a rigid discipli- narian and a perfect Ironsides in the discharge of his ofificial duties, can enjoy a good joke, and is always ready to perpetrate one when an opportunity presents. Indeed, among his acquaintances he is as much renowned for his eccentric humor as he is for his skill and bravery as a commander. When Grant was a brigadier in southeast Missouri, he commanded an expedition against the rebels under Jeff. Thompson, in northern Arkansas. The supposed ren- dezvous of the rebels was about one hundred and ten miles, and the greater portion of the route lay through a howling wilderness. The imaginary suffering that our 190 WHY THE LIEUTENANT ATE THE PIE. soldiers endured during the first two days of their march was enormous. It was impossible to steal or " confiscate" uncultivated real estate, and not a hog, or a chicken, or an ear of corn was anywhere to be seen. On the third day, however, affairs looked more hopeful, for a few small specks of ground, in a state of partial cultivation, were here and there visible. On that day, Lieutenant W., of an Indiana cavalry regiment, commanded the advance- guard, consisting of eight mounted men. About noon he came up to a small farm-house, from the outward appear- ance of which he judged that there might be something fit to eat inside. He halted his company, dismounted, and with two second lieutenants entered the dwelling. He knew that Grant's incipient fame had already gone out through all that country, and it occurred to him that by representing himself to be the general he might obtain the best the house afforded. So assuming a very impera- tive demeanor, he accosted the inmates of the house, and told them he must have something for himself and staff to eat. They desired to know who he was, and he told them that he was Brigadier-General Grant. At the sound of that name they flew around with alarming alacrity, and served up about all they had in the house, taking great pains all the while to make loud professions of loyalty. The lieutenants ate as much as they could of the not over sumptuous meal, but which was, nevertheless, good for that country, and demanded what was to pay. "Nothing." And they went on their Avay rejoicing. In the meantime General Grant, who had halted his army a few miles further back, for a brief resting spell, came in sight of, and was rather favorably impressed with, the appearance of this same house. Riding up to the fence in front of the door, he desired to know if they would cook him a meal. " No !" said a female, in a gruff voice ; " General Grant and his staff have just been here and eaten everything in the house except one pumpkin pie." A GALLANT LAD. 191 '•'Hump"h," murmured Grant; "wTiat is jour name?" "Selvidge," replied the woman. Casting a half-dollar in at the door, he asked if she would keep the pie till he sent an officer for it, to which she replied that she would. That evening, after the camping-ground had been se- lected, the various regiments were notified that there would be a grand parade at half-past six for orders. Of- ficers would see that their men all turned out, etc. In five minutes the camp was in a perfect uproar, and filled with all sorts of rumors ; some thought the enemy- were upon them, it being so unusual to have parades when on a march. At half-past six. the parade was formed, ten columns deep, and nearly a quarter of a mile in length. After the usual routine of ceremonies the acting assist- ant adjutant-general read the following order: — Headquarters Army ix the Field, Special Order, No, . Lieutenant W., of the Indiana Cavalry, having on this day eaten everything in Mrs. Selvidge's house, at the crossing of the Ironton and Po- cahontas and Black River and Cape Girardeau Roads, except one pumpkin pie. the said Lieutenant W. is here- by ordered to return with an escort of one hundred ca- valry and eat that pie also. — U. S- Grant, Brigadier- General Commanding. Grant's orders were law, and no soldier ever attempted to evade them. At seven o'clock the lieutenant filed out of camp with his hundred men, amid the cheers of the entire army. The escort concurred in stating that he devoured the whole of the pie, and seemed to relish it. A GALLANT LAD. Captain Boggs, of the Yaruna, tells a story of a brave boy who was on board his vessel during the bombard- ^92 ON THE CUMBERLAND. ment of tlie forts on the Mississippi Rivxr, The lad. ■who answers to the name of Oscar, was but thirteen years of age but he has an old head on his shoulders, and is alert and energetic. During the hottest of the fire he "was busily engaged in passing ammunition to the gun- ners, and narrowly escaped death when one of the terrific broadsides of the Varuna's rebel antagonist was poured in. Covered with dirt and begrimed with powder, he was met by Captain Boggs, who asked " where he was going in such a hurry ?" " To get a passing-box, sir ; the other one was smashed by a ball !" And so, throughout the fight, the brave lad held his place and did his duty. When the Varuna went down, Captain Boggs missed his boy, and thought he was among the victims of the battle. But a few minutes afterwards he saw the lad gallantly swimming towards the wreck. Clambering on board of Captain Boggs's boat, he threw his hand up to his forehead, giving the usual salute, and uttering only the words, "AH right, sir! I report myself on board," passed coolly to his station. ' OU THE OUMBEELAND. Two of the gunners at the bow-guns of the Cumber- land, when the ship was sinking, clasped their guns in their arms, and would not be removed, and went down embracing them. One gunner had both his legs shot away ; but he made three steps on his bloody thighs, seized the lanyard and fired his gun, falling back dead. Another lost both arms and legs, yet lived; and when they would assist him, cried out, "Back to your guns, boys! Give 'em fits! Hurrah for the flag !" lie lived till she sank. A CHAT ABOUT STONE RIVER. 193 A CHAT ABOUT STONE EIYEE. There \vas rare comedy commingled with the tragedy at Stone River. The humorisrn of battle saturates you after carnage is ended. The richest of the drollery and fun is not printable. But we can roar over it in bivouac. Suppose we have a chapter of incidents. One of the good things was Irish, of course. An Irish rebel of the 1st Louisiana, who had charged too far into our front, was coming out of the fight a cap- tive, with a broken arm. A surgeon had dressed it temporarily. " You an Irishman and a rebeV quoth I ; " what are you fighting us for ?" " Sure, your honor," swiftly retorted Pat, " an' did ye ever hear uv the likes of an army, an' there wasn't Irish- men in it ?" " But Pat," interposed Father Trecy, "you were forced into the service." *' Yer riverence," replied Pat, respectfully saluting, " I went into it with a good will. The boys was all goin' ; there was a fight, an' sure Patrick wasn't the man to lit inny man go furninst him." Pat was an incorrigible, and we let him go. A cluster of mangled fellows were huddled about a field hospital, waiting surgical attention. A big brawny trooper, with a bullet in his left leg and another in his right arm, hobbled up, holding his wounded arm in his left hand. "By G — d, doctor," said he, with much less piety than pain, " the d — d rebs came pretty near hittin' me.'' Another fellow, blowing blood copiously from his nose — the point of which had been shot off — as a whale spouts sea water, interposed: "The d — d rascals" — sputter — *' come d — d near " — another sputter — " oyiissin'' me." An Irish soldier being hit, turned to his officer, patheti- 13 194 A CHxVT ABOUT STONE RIVER. cally exclaiming, "Lieutenant, shure an' I'm hit !" "WLat the d — 1 are you doing there, then ?" responded the lieu- tenant, taking Pat by the collar and ejecting him from the ranks. " Get out of that and give a better man your place." The general commanding displayed a distressing faculty for keeping in hot places. After several casual- ties to the staft' and while missiles were flying about promiscuously, one of his aids modestly asked liim, "Do you ihink it right to expose your life so, sir?" The gen- eral replied by dashing into a hotter place to correct an alignment and regulate a battery which was firing rather recklessly. He was suddenly checked by a regiment drawn across the field. The men were down on their bellies, and several rebel batteries were flinging shot and shell all around them. The general thought it a good opportunity to make a speech to them. AUhough a fine talker, he is not a finished orator. But he jerks out sen- tences that are not easily misunderstood. The battle-field, the orator, and the audience presented a singular specta- cle. When the general addressed the men, each elevated his head from the ground, turning his face towards the commander. '■' Men," said he, " do jon want to know how to be safe ? If you do, shoot low. Fire at their shins. But do you want to know how to be safest of all? I'll tell you. Give them a blizzard right at their shins at short range, and then let them have the bayonet. Give them the bayonet, I say !" The general thinks a " blizzard " at short range a very good thing. j» Liout. Willie Porter, of the general's staff, a promising youth of eighteen or nineteen summers, amused us by his sang fro id. When he mounted in the morning, he filled the general's haversack with luncheon, and threw it over his own shoulder. During the day a shell explotled in the midst of the staff. A fragment of it struck between Porter's side and the haversack, bruising him severely, WHAT IT COST TO BE LOYAL. 195 and tearing open the haversack. The luncheon tumbled to the ground. " There," said Porter, with a droll grim- ace, unmindful of his own narrow escape, " all the dinner is ffone." THE WEONG LEG. A lieutenant of the First North Carolina regiment, who had lost a leg in an engagement in North Carolina, and who had supplied its place with an artificial member, consisting of a stout oaken peg, was present at the fight at Olustee, Fla,, and while the battle was as warm as one would care to experience it, a rebel sharpshooter put a bul- let through his trowsers leg and through his wooden peg. He felt the blow, but escaped the twinge of pain that gene- rally accompanies the passage of a bullet through genuine flesh and muscle, and enjoying a keen sense of the ludi- crous, he forgot the battle and its dangers, and gave way to the heartiest and most explosive laughter. He pushed along the line, and approached the colonel, to whom, after a severe effort, he was able to communicate the cause of his mirth. Almost convulsed with laughter, he exclaimed : "Colonel! by George! the d — d rebels have shot me through the wooden leg ! Ha ! ha ! Devilish good joke on the fellows !" and he hobbled back to his position in the line. WHAT IT COST TO BE LOYAL. At the outbreak of the rebellion, Widow W. lived in the White Eiver country, Mo.— a land of hills and of ignorance. In that country she and her family stood almost alone upon the side of the National Union. Her neighbors were advocates of the rebellion, and even before the arrival of the army in Springfield, all loyal citizens 196 WHAT IT COST TO BE LOYAL, were warned that they must leave their homes or die. It was little that the poor widow had to leave — a miserable log-cabia aud a small patch of hillside-— bat such as it was, she was preparing to abandon it, when her son Harvey left her, in search of employment. She packed tiis bun- dle with a heavy heart, took a silk handkerchief from her neck, gave it to him, and kissed him good by, never expecting to see him again. He had not been gone many days when her persecution began. Her little boy was one evening bringing m wood for the fire, when a shot was heard — a bullet struck the log under his arm, and he dropped it with a scream. The ball had just missed his heart. Joy at his escape from death was henceforth mingled with gloomy appre hension. Next she heard of the death of Harvey. He had found a home, and fancying himself secure, was alone at work in the field. The family with whom he lived Avere ab- sent. When they returned at noon they found his dead body in. the house, pierced by a bullet. His torn cap and other signs witnessed to the severity of his struggle before he yielded to his murderer. From this time the family of Mrs. W. lived in constant fear. One day a gun was fired at them as they sat at dinner. Often they saw men prowling about with guns, lookinsr for the voung men. One man was bold enough to come into the cabin in search of .them. At night they all hid in the woods, and slept. The poor woman was one day gathering corn in the garden, and William was sitting upon the fence. "fion't sit there, William," said his mother, "you are too f lir a mark for a shot." ^V'illiam went to the door and sat upon the step. '• William," said his sister, " you are not safe there. Come into the house." He obeyed. He was sitting between two beds, whea WHAT IT COST TO BE LOYAL. 19T sudden! V another shot rang "upon the air, and the widow's second son, Samuel, whom she had not noticed sitting by another door, rose to his feet, staggered a few steps toward his mother, and fell a corpse before her. " I never wished any one in torment before," she said, " but I did wish the man that killed him was there." Her three oldest sons at onee left the cabin and fled over the hills. They were all afterwards in the National army. Samuel's sister washed the cold clay and dressed it for the grave. After two days the secession neighbors came to bury him. At first the frantic mother refused to let them touch his body. At last she consented. The clods were falling upon the coffin, each sound awakening an echo in her heart, when a whip-poor-will fluttered down with its wild melancholy cry, and settled in the open grave. The note so terrified the conscience-stricken, superstitious wretches, that for a moment they fled in dis- may. Two of her children were now in the tomb. Three had escaped for their lives. The unhappy woman was left with her two daughters and three small children, helpless and alone. She was obliged to go thirty miles upon horseback to mill for food, and afterwards to return on foot, leading her horse by the bridle, with the sack of meal upon his back. On her return she met her children, about a mile and a half from her own house. In her neigh- bor's yard her two boys, aged ten and twelve years, were digging another grave — the grave of an old man, mur- dered in her absence for the crime of loyalty to the Union. Together with a white-headed patriot, who tottered with age, they placed the corpse upon a board, rolled it, unpre- pared for burial and uncoffined, into the shalloAv pit, and then covered it with earth. Such are the trials of loyal citizens in the border slave States, and wherever rebel- lion has been in power. The widow now escaped for refuge to St. Louis. And there, to crown her sorrows in the absence of her three 198 A DESPERATE HAND-TO-HAND CONTEST. oldest remaining sons, a drunken soldier of the Eiftb. Kansas Regiment shot her daughter Marj. as she was standino^ in the door of her house. A DESPEEATE HAND-TO-HAND CONTEST. Two Minnesota boys once took it into their heads to forage a little for amusement as well as eatables. Striking out from their encampment into the forest, they followed a narrow road some distance, until, turning a bend, five Secession pickets appeared not fifty yaixls distant. The parties discovered each other simultaneously, and at once levelled their rifles and fired. Two of the Confederates fell dead, and one of the Minnesotians, the other also fill- ing, however, but with the design of trapping the other three, who at once came up, as they said, to "examine the d — — d Yankees," Drawing his revolver, the Minnesotian found he had but two barrels loaded, and with these he shot two of the pickets. Springing to his feet, he snatched his sabre bayonet from his rifle, and lunged at the survivor, who proved to be a stalwart lieutenant, armed only with a heavy sword. The superior skill of the Southron was taxed to the utmost in parrying the vigorous thrusts and lunges of the brawny lumberman, and for several min- utes the contest waged in silence, broken only by the rustle of the long grass by the roadside, and the clash of their weapons. Feigning fatigue, the Minnesotian fell back a few steps, and as his adversary closed upon him with a cat-like spring, he let his sabre come down on tlie head of Secesh, and the game was up. Collecting the arms of the Secessionists, he returned to the camp, where he obtained assistance, and buried the bodies of his com- panion and their foes in. one grave. KILLED IN ACTION. 199 nSTS AGAINST MUSKETS. During the retreat from Bull Run a large bony back- woodsman from Michigan remained behind to assist a wounded comrade, and was surrounded by four Seces- sionists. Throwing aside his musket, the Michigandti- exclaimed — "You darnation scoundrels! I can lick you without my shooting iron." And suiting the action to the word, Jonathan 'went in " by planting his burly fists between the eyes of one of the enemy, knocking him over. One more stroke, well aimed, laid the second in the dust, while the third received a stunner upon the proboscis which made him kiss the earth ; and probably the fourth would have met a similar fate had he not, with the butt of his gun, knocked Jona- than over. The gallant Michigander was stunned by the blow, when his capture Avas easily accomplished. KILLED IN ACTION. It was the day of Cedar Mountain. Crawford had such scanty numbers that the cavalry was formed as a first line of battle, supporting the advance batteries. The audacity of the movement seemed to puzzle the enemy ; for, instead of pushing us hard and driving back our feeble force, the whole morning was spent in slowly feel- ing their way into position, only now and then pitching a few harmless shell in our direction. Besides, they had about as good ground to fight on where they were as they could find further on; and they were probably ignorant what forces we might have upon tlieir flanks. From sunrise until half past three in the afternoon we stood there W'earily, only moving by squadrons to water and detachino: carbineers as skirmishers. Across tho 200 KILLED EST ACTIO*. jRelds, which rose in graceful undulations, we conld faintly discern the columns of rebel cavah-y and infantry moving from wood to wood, in the direction of our left. We were so placed that we could see nothing but the rebels, the Rhode Island Cavalry formed near us, and one battery in sections on the rise of the hill behind us. At three o'clock we had gathered some oats and wheat harvested in the adjoining field, and were feeding them to our horses in addition to the corn-blades among which we stood, when tb.e rebel batteries were moved by hand over the brow of the hill in front, and opened upon us with great rapidity of fire and accuracy of aim. Our skirmishers in the meantime were sharply engaged with theirs ; and, notwithstanding their disadvantage in being mounted and having merely the short carbine, did considerable execution, losing only one horse. They kept their enemy nervously making little rushes forward as they fired, and falling back to load, so that the rebels began to fire wilder and wilder. At last there was an advance in force, and they opened with grape upon this scattered line. Our men came back like a whirlwind, completely obscured by dust, and fell into their places in the ranks. Now the battery which our regiment was supporting began to show its brilliant qualities. I think that it was L battery, First New York Artillery, but am not positive. Its sections, one above the other, either concentrated their fire or distributed it as circumstances required; and from the first shot to the last almost every missile did its duty. An officer of ours, who was out wdth skirmishers on our right, was so placed that he could see the effects of the fire on a brigade Avho were lying hehind a hill waiting to charge upon the battery. For a few seconds they lay under the fire. Those few seconds cost them thirty men ; and as they sprang up to run away they were swept even more fearfully. The force broke, and was not, I believe, re-formed during the engagement. While the battery was doing its work we were doing KILLED IN ACTION. 20l ours — the unpleasantest duty that can be imposed. We had to sit in our saddles, motionless and helpless, exposed to a tremendous fire, and unable to return a shot. Out of the woods in our front the sharpshooters of the rebel brigade had been sent to " disperse that cavalry^ Fortu- nately for us our lieutenant-colonel was an old soldier, and had chosen our place as none but an old soldier w^ould. The corn-iield was, as I have said, full of little undula- tions. Just in front of us was a hollow, and beyond it a rising ground. If we had been in the hollow, though covered from the sharpshooters, we should have been raked by the artillery ; and the hilltop was of course bad. So we stood to the rear of the hollow, on the rise of the hill ; so that those in front, unconscious of this wide de- pression, must have thought us so much nearer to them, and have regulated their aim accordingly. This I imagine to have been the case, for a perfect storm of bullets swept across the brow of the hill, and struck up the dust at our horses' feet. Simultaneously balls come whirring through the air just above our heads, causing a shock to the nerves simihir to that occasioned by a covey of quail starting from beneath our feet, and causing a good many of the men to dodge and twist a little in their saddles. I was remarking tliis fact indignantly to the major, when, " Nonsense !" was his reply. " Why, I dodge myself!" of which he immediately gave an illus- tration. I looked around, and there were General Banks and his staff also bending gracefully to and fro. I there- ibre concluded that the fire was regarded as hot and heavy. " Steady in the first squadron ! Stead}^ there, I say ! AVhat are you about ?" sang out the major's cleaT, stern voice. As he moved to check an apparent confusion, a man made his way out of the ranks — a little pale, perhaps, but otherwise as usual. " What are you doing leaving the ranks, sir ?" 202 KILLED IN ACTION. "The man saluted him quietly, and answered "Hit; sir." He had a " pretty" sharp clip from a rifle-ball. "Go to the rear and get dressed," said the major. The line was dressed again Avithout need of commands, and there we stood again as calmly as ever under fire. But now the men began to suffer, and the horses espe- cially had been struck several times. The battery had dismounted a gun which had been run up to the sharp- shooters, to open on us with canister, but the rifle-balls and the shell were becoming more and more accurate in their aim. Bayard turned and spoke to Banks. "We heard the Major-general answer, " They stand it like veterans. I shall myself show these their new position when I move them." Presently the order came, "Pla- toons, right about wheel !" and at a walk, without break- ing a rank, we steadily moved back, crossing the exposed hill-top and descending on the other side, where we again formed. But now our whole first line was falling back upon Banks's corps, which had been formed as it had come up behind us; and the enemy had succeeded in planting a battery upon Cedar Mountain, which com- pletely enfiladed our position. Over the brow of the hill and from the left flank, the shriek of the shell thrilled our ears, and all along the line they burst with a sound that, once heard, can never be forgotten. The battery — one piece dismounted and half the horses killed — limbered up and moved ofi". Taking down the fence in our rear and that into the road at our right, the regiment again made an about, and retired a second time in line. That was the most trying time of all that day. The enemy's range was perfect, and with every discharge each man wondered how he had escaped. The apprehen- sion of immediate death was strong in every soul, and yet the line moved over that uneven ground better than it could have done on drill. Kot an attempt was made to break ranks or to straggle, even when comrades went down on either hand. Oh I how proud we were of tha KILLED IN ACTION. 203 men, and how clieerfully and confidently all the officers ever after gave their orders, certain that they would be obeyed ! As the chaplain, who had occasionally been riding along the ranks, endeavoring to cheer the men, while his services were not yet required in the hospital, turned from helping to clear away the fence, a man from the left came by, leading two or three horses, '' \Yhere are you going from the field ?" " It's the lieutenant, sir. A shell has struck him, and the boys are carrying him, while I take the horses." "Who? Not A ?" ejaculated the chaplain anxiously. " Yes, sir. Here he comes." And there lay the poor bo}^ almost a child in look, and a sort of pet among officers and men, pale and stunned, in the arms of some of his platoon, his right leg nearly severed from his body. The crushed and torn muscles showed among them the broken bone, and the blood dropped slowly to the ground, mingling with the dust. To get him into an ambulance and drive back to the hos- pital seemed fearfully long for all ; and I think that the men felt every jolt almost as sharply as did he. Behind a wood was spread out the ghastly apparatus of military surgery, and the poor boy was removed as quickly as circumstances would permit to the neighborhood of the table. As he lay in the chaplain's arms he seemed to re- cognize the voice that spoke to him, and with the gasp- ings of a dying man he whispered — *' Oh, chaplain, if I could only pray !" •• Shall I pray for you ?" "Yes." And the chaplain put up those exquisite petitions in the Episcopal service for the visitation of the sick. A 's lips moved as if he were ibl lowing the words of the petition to the very end. Then he was lifted on the table, the sponge of chloroform applied, and the 204 DRAWING RATIONS. ghastly work of amputation performed. He never reco- vered from the shock. His mind wandered again to the action, and he uttered words of command to his men. At last, with a feeble motion of the hand, he made an effort to ejaculate " Star-spangled banner !" These were his last words. The shells of the enemy came plunging through the wood, and struck against the fence behind which our hospital was established. A was placed in an ambulance, beside B , who had been hit a»h most at the same moment ; and the whole establishment moved back to a house in the rear. Scarcely had he been removed from the vehicle when he quietly breathed his last. He lies buried in Culpepper, in the southwest corner of our military graveyard, while his cousin H sleeps at Harrisonburg, awaiting the same general resur- rection. DEAWING KATIONS. There are some episodes in the life of a soldier pro- vocative of laughter, and that serve to disperse, in some measure, the ennui of camp life. A farmer, who did not reside so far from a camp of the " boys" as he wished he did, was accustomed to find every morning that several TOWS of potatoes had disappeared from the field. He bore it some time, but when the last half of his field of fine "kidneys" began to disappear, he began to think that sort of thing had gone far enough, and determined to stop it. Accordingly he made a visit to camp early next morning, and amused himself by going round to see whether the soldiers were provided with good and whole- some provisions. He had not proceeded far when he found a "boy" just serving up a fine dish of *' kidneys," which looked marvellously like those that the gude wife brought to his own table. Halting, the following coWo^ quy ensued : — hadn't heard op the war. 205 " Have fine potatoes here, I see." " Splendid !" was the reply. " Where do you get them ?" " Draw them"." " Does government furnish potatoes in your rations ?" " Nary potato." " I thought you said you drew them." " Did ! we just do that thing I" "But how, if they are not included in your rations?" "Easiest thing in the world I Won't you take some with us ?" said the soldier, as he seated himself at the ta- ble opposite the smoking vegetables. " Thank you. But will you oblige me by telling how you draw your potatoes, as they are not found by the commissary?" " Nothing easier. Draiv ''em hy the tops, mostly ! Some- times by a hoe, if one is left in the field." " Hum ! Yes I I understand ! Well, see here, if you won't draw any more of mine, I will bring you a basket every morning, and draw them myself" " Bully for you, old fellow !" was the cry, and three cheers and a tiger were given for the farmer. The cove- nant was entered into, and no one but the owner drew potatoes from that field afterward. HADN'T HEAED OP THE WAE. After Western Virginia had been for some months the theatre of active operations, a scout going out through the woods near Elkwater, on picket duty, accidentally espied, away in a dark ravine, a little log hut. Antici- pating a hearty meal, he rode up to the house, and an old woman, with a face like a pig's, came out looking the picture of consternation. The soldier dismounted, and asked for something to eat. " What ! wittles ?" exclaimed the horrible looking crea- 206 AN IMPROMPTU DUEL. tare. "Wbar did you come from, and what be a sojer doiii' here?" " Well, I came from Indianapolis, and be after some- thing to eat. Are there any secesh in these parts?" " Any what ?" " Secesh." '•' Why, gracious, what's them ?" " Are you and your folks for the Union ?" " Why, sartin. That's the old man, neow." Just at this moment there came a gaunt-eyed, slim- livered, carnivorous, yellow skinned, mountain Virginian — no doubt one of the first families. " Look heah," continued the old woman, "this 'ere sojer wants to know if you be Union."' The old fellow looked more astonished than the woman at the soldier. In the course of the conversation the Boldier inquired what the old man thought of the war. " What war ?" exclaimed the old fellow ; " the Revolu- tion ?" " Yes, the rebellion, we call it." "Oh, why, we gin the Britishers fits, didn't we?" It was evident the old man knew nothing of the rebel- lion going on. When asked if he heard the fight the other day, only six miles from his home, he opened his eyes and said that he heard it thunderin mighty loud, but couldn't see no clouds, and didn't know what to make of* it." AN IMPROMPTU DUEL. A Michigander being out on advanced picket duty one day, came in sight of a South Carolina rebel, also on simi- lar duty, when the following dialogue and duel took place. Michigan. ''Hallo, South Carolina, how are you, to- day?" AN IMPROMPTU DUEL. 207 Soutli Caroliua. " Pretty well, thank you. How are all the Yankees?" M. " So so. What's the news over in Dixie ?" S. "Nothing in particular, only we have got some rifles now that will out-shoot your Yankee guns, all hol- low." M. "Don't believe the yarn. You seceshers brag too much. Can't fool your pap on that trigger." S. "Suppose, then, you and I just take a few private passes at each other to settle that Httle question. What say you ?" M. " Agreed. Forty rods and three shots each." The question then arose as to the preliminaries, &c., there being no parties present to act as seconds. These were, however, soon settled by South Carolina giving Michigan a gold dollar for the first three shots! The par- ties then took their positions, and South Carolina blazed away his three sliots at jMichigan, who stood erect and pointed out to South , Carolina the direction each of his shots had taken. Michigan escaped unhurt, and now came his turn to fire. South Carolina, to liis credit be it said, stood erect, and received Michigan's first shot in the thigh, which brought him down upon the ground. " riellow, old fellow, none of that," said Michigan, " no dodging the question ; stand up like a man, will you? You oive me two d — d good shots, and you must pay them, mind that, or no more bragging about chivalry^ But South Carolina, having one leg broken already by a shot from Michigan's unerring Minie musket, could not stand on both pegs of his chivalry, and, therefore, squatted, and consequently cheated our honest Michi- gander out of 'Hivo d — d good sh^ts,^^ and thus eiidec^ thia funny impromptu duel. 208 HOW IKE BAKER WAS WHIPPED. HOW IKE BAEKEE WAS WHIPPED. Upon a certain day, somewhere about the middle of August, 1862, we were stationed on the side of a hill, in a thick wood commanding a full view of the main road. I was sent that morning to stand guard on the other side of the hill, a quarter of a mile distant. In front of me was a large meadow inclosed by a worm fence, which cornered about two hundred yards from where I stood, and then took off' at a right angle and was lost lo view in a deep hollow beyond. There was a small stream running through the meadow, which seemed to lake its rise in the corner before-mentioned. The weather was intensely hot, and I was very thirsty. The water in my canteen was warm, and did me no good. " I have a great notion," soliloquized I, " to go and fill my canteen at the spring yonder, if there is one." I knew this Avould not be allowed ; our sergeant had given me particular orders not to expose myself in the clearing, as there was danger of my being picked off' by some of the enemy's pickets, who were supposed to be in the neighborhood. My thirst, however, became so intolerable, I determined to risk it. I left my knapsack at the root of a tree, and taking my rifle and canteen, stepped boldly out into the open ground, and soon reached the fence. - I crept cautiously along it until I reached the corner ; here I paused for a few mi- nutes and listened intently, but could hear nothing. I stood my rifle in the corner of the fence, and sprang lightly over. There was a piece of level green sward in the corner of the field, which broke off' suddenly into a deep, rocky gorge. In approaching the edge I disco- vered a steep, narrow path leading to the bottom. I carefully descended, soon reaching the bottom, and turn- ing the angle of a large rock discovered, as I expected, the spring, and close beside it, to my utter astonishment, HOW IKE BARKER WAS WHIPPED. 209 sat a rebel soldier smoking Lis pipe. He did not seem to be the least disconcerted at my appearance, but coolly taking the pipe froia his mouth, surveyed me intently for a few minutes. " Hallo, Yankee 1" said he, " how many's of ye ?" " I am alone," I replied. "All right," said tlie rebel, resuming his pipe and puffing away vigorously. " Water, eh ?" continued he, pointing toward the spring. " There it is, cool as ice, clear as glass, and plenty in it. Ilelp yourself." I accordingly took his advice, stepped to the spring, and filling my canteen, took a hearty drink of the cool, delicious beverage. I then refilled my canteen, and pre- pared to depart, not relishing the close proximity of my new acquaintance. " On picket duty, eh ?" inquired the rebeh I answered in the affirmative. " Ditto here," said secesh. " Well, I'll bid you good day," said I. " I must get back to my post, or I shall be missed." " Ditto again," said the rebel ; " but don't be in a hurry, Yankee, I am going to start myself, and we'll be com- pany." The rebel then arose, knocked out the ashes from his j^ipe, and placed it carefully in the lining of his hat. " Go ahead, Yankee," pointing to the pathway. " I'll follei-." I did not like the appearance of my new acquaintance. He was a man of herculean proportions, and there was a look in his eye that I thought boded mischief. I, however, started up the narrow path, and soon reached the- level sward, closely followed by secesh. "■ Yankee," said he, placing his heavy hand on my shoulder, "them's a darn'dnation good pair of shoes you have on, a mighty good pair of shoes, powerful. !Nur.^L.er tens, ain't they ?" I told him I believed they were that number. U 210 now IKE BARKER WAS WHIPPED. "I knew it," said he, nodding liis head. "I was sure on it. Number ten is just mj lit. "What will you take for them, Yankee ?" I told liim I did not wish to sell them, as they were the only pair I had. " Look here, Yankee," said he, meaningly, " I need them shoes, and I'm bound to have 'em. I might take yuu along, shoes and all, to our camp, but then I mightn't get them, and I might kill you and take the shoes, but I ain't in that sort of business. Now I'll tell you what I'll do, Yankee. I'll give you a eight for your shoes in Ala- bama money, good as wheat in the mill. You'd better take it, for I'm bound to have them shoes anjdiow !" " I tell you what it is, Mr. Kebel," said I, for I began to be rather nettled, "I won't sell the shoes, and if you think you can get them in any other way, just try it on." "Hurrah for you, Yankee," said he, nodding approv- ingly. "You're pluck to the backbone, but it ain't no vise ; here's what'U settle the hash at once," and, thrusting Ills hand into his bosom, be drew forth a lars^e bowie- knife, and }Kjinting it towards me, said, " Now, Yankee, I ax(;s you I'or the last time, v/ill you give up the shoes?" "No," said I, "I wont; I'll die first." " Then die and be d — d," roared he, making a sudden plunge at m^'' breast; but I was too quick for him. I sprang nimbly back, and with my right foot gave him a violent kick on the hand. It sent the knife spinning into the air; in its descent it struck a rock and bounded far away into the hollow beneath. " Well, Yankee," said the rebel, rubbing his hands, "you think you've done it now, don't you I Them's mighty strong soles on them shoes of yourn, powerful strong ; but it only makes me the more anxious to get them ; you think, because the knife's gone, you're safe ; but you ain't; here's what'U choke the liie out of you in double quick time," opening and shutting his fingers. "Do you know who I am? I'm Ike Barker, I am, the HOW IKE BARKER WAS WHIPPED. 211 Alabama ring-tail-roarer, half horse, half alligator, the other half boa-constrictor, never was whopp'd or laid on my back by man or mortal. Yankee," continued he, drawing off'his coat and rolling up his sleeves, "look at this ; there's muscle, there's sinners ; this," said he, crook- ing and straightening his arm, " is the axletree of the world ; and this," baring his other arm, " is the sledge- hammer of destruction; you may be a pretty good man among Yankees, but I'm a man among men, and I jest tell you what it is, if you don't give up them shoes at once, vou're a gone sucker ; that's what you are." " There is only one way for you to get the shoes," re- plied I, " and that is to come and take them. But I warn you, you will be very apt to get hurt." " Darn the odds," rei)lied he, " I ain't afeared. Now look out for yourself, Yankee, for I'm down on you like a thousand of bricks." So saying, he stepped a step or two back, sprang lightly up. and came bounding towards me ; then, stopping sud- denly, before I was aware of it, caught me round the waist, and threw me heavily to the ground. But you know, George, it is pretty hard to hold me down in a scuffle; I was on my feet again in an instant, and had disengaged myself from my powerful antagonist. We once more stood face to face on the green sward. " Well, Yankee," said he, eying me curiously, "you're gome in a bar figlit, I swar you are ! But I'll have them shoes yet, I will, by thunder." And again he stepped back, preparatory to making another rush at me. I did not wait for him to come on this time, but, rushing in, planted my right fist heavily between his eyes, which nearly knocked him down, I endeavored to follow up with my left, but did not quite reach him, and he again closed with me. This time we took a fair back hold. This was my favorite mode of wrestling, and you know, George, I have wrestled with Bome of the best men in the country with that hold, and 212 HOW IKE BARKER WAS WHIPPED. never have been thrown on my back yet. But I got my match this time. I strained every nerve, tried every manoeuvre, but all to no purpose ; he was my equal in science, and had the advantage of me in strength. Our deadly struggle had now brought us close to the edge of the gorge, my strength was fast leaving me, and I knew, unless something was done at once, I should soon be as the rebel predicted — " a gone sucker !" The ground on which we were now struggling sloped towards the gorge. I was on the lower side. The rebel pressed me bard, thinking to throw me over. I suddenly let go my hold, slipped down through his arms, caught him by the legs, and, with an almost superhuman effort, threw him over my head, falling on the ground at the same time myself nearly exhausted. When I again rose to my feet I saw my antagonist Uors de combat. In his' fall his head had struck a rock, and there he lay stunned and hardly able to move. I picked up my can- teen, and hurrying down to the spring, I took a hearty drink of the cool, delicious water; then, securing the rebel's bowie-knife, which I had the good fortune to iind, I again ascended to look after my fallen antagonist. He'd contrived to raise himself into a sitting posture, and was rubbing his eyes and groaning fearfully. " Hullo," said I, " secesh ! how are you getting on ?" He looked at me confusedly for a while, like one awakened from a dream, then, shaking his head dolefully, he exclaimed, in a lugubrious voice — " Ike Barker's whopped ! Whopped, too, by a cussed Yankee. O— o— oh !" " How is it about the shoes ?" said I, preparing to take my leave. "" It's all up with them," said he, shaking his head, " gone, gone ! Number tens, too ! Just mv fit ! O — o— oh ! bo ! bo!" I handed him his canteen of water, and left him groan- in ostponed. Hopkins now re- ceived the treatment to which he was entitled, and on tlie 2d of August, 1862, left Fort Smith for exchange at Cassville. Eeporting to Colonel Harrison at Springfield, he was promoted to the captaincy of a company of the regiment in which he had enlisted some months pre- viously, and since re-entering the service has been con- stantly on duty, proving hmiself under all circumstances to be a very bold, daring, and efficient officer. HOW THE SECESH TOOK CLARK WRIGH^. 239 HOW THE SECESH TOOK CLAKK WEIGHT. Maj. Clark Wright, who has obtained considerable prominence during the piesent war as a scout and a soldier — having been in command of a squadron of the same chara(;ter as himself — moved from Ohio to Polk County, Missouri, in 1858, and, buying a large amount of prairie, commenced the business of stock raising. He was just before married to a woman of more than ordi- nary intelligence and determination, who proved herself eminently fitted for the duties which their new life im- posed upon them. He prospered greatly, and in a short time had erected a fine house, furnished in the best style possible, had two young children, an amiable wife, a good home, and was adding rapidly to an originally large for- tune. When the roar of secession came up from South Caro- lina, he heard it in common with others of his neighbors, but while avowing himself in favor of sustaining the Union, he determined to attend strictly to his own busi- ness. He had no hesitation in expressing his sentiments of loyalty to the government, but he did it quietly, and with a view not to give offence. Soon after, at a Baptist meeting near his residence, a few of the brethren, after refreshing their spiritual appetites with the crumbs of the sanctuary, took his case into consideration, and unani- mously determined that he should be made to leave the country, and appointing a committee of three to inform him of their decision. One of the party, although an ardent secessionist, hap- pened to be a personal fric-nd of Wright, and hastening away, informed him of the meeting, and that the committee would wait on him the next day, Monday. Wright thanked his kind friend, and, then like a dutiful husband, laid the case before his wife, and asked her advice. She pondered a few moments, and then asked Lira if he had 240 HOW THE SECESH TOOK CLARK WPJOHT. done anything to warrant sucli a proceeding. Nothing. "Then let us fight!" was the reply; and to fight was the conclusion. 'Wright was plentifully supplied with revol- vers ; he took two, and his wife another, loaded them care- fully, and waited further developments. Monday afternoon three men rode up and inquired for Mr. "Wright. He walked out, with the butt of a revolver sticking warily from his coat pocket, and inquired their wishes. The revolver seemed to upset their ideas. They answered nothing in particular, and proceeded to converse upon everything in general, but never alluded to their errand. Finally, after a half hour had passed, and the men still talked on without coming to the mission, Wright grew impatient, and asked if they had any special busi- ness ; if not, he had a pressing engagement, and would like to be excused. Well, they had a little business, said one, with considerable hesitation, as he glanced at the revolver butt. "Stop," says Wright, "before you tell it, I wish to say a word. I know your business, and I just promised my wife, on my honor as a man, that I would blow h — 11 out of the man who told me of it, and by the eternal God, I'll do it! Now tell me your errand!" and as he concluded he pulled out his revolver, and cocked it. The fellow glanced a moment at the deadly looking pistol, and took in the stalwart form of Wright, who was glaring at him with murder in his eye, and concluded to postpone the announcement. The three rode away, and reported the reception to their principals. The next Sunday, after another refreshing season, the brethren again met and took action upon the contumacy of Mr. Wright. The captain of a company of secessionists was present, and, after due deliberation, it was deter- mined that upon the next Thursday he should take his command, proceed to Wright's, and summarily eject him from the sacred soil of Missouri. Wright's friend was again present, and he soon communicated the state of HOW THE SECESH TOOK CLARK WRIGHT. 241 affairs to Mr. "Wright, with u suggestion that it would save trouble and bloodshed if he got away before the day appointed. Wright lived in a portion of the country remote from the cliurch and the residence of those who were endea- voring to drive him out, and he determined, if possible, to prepare a surprise for the worthy captain and his gal- lant forces. To this end he bought a barrel of whiskey, another of crackers, a few cheeses, and some other pro- visions, and then mounting a black boy upon a swift horse, sent him around the country inviting his friends to come and see him and bring their arms. By Wednes- day night he had gathered a force of about three hundred men, to whom he communicated the condition of things, and asked their assistance. They promised to back him to the death. The next day they concealed themselves in a cornfield back of the house, and awaited the develop- ment of events. A little after noon the captain and some eighty men rode up to the place and inquired for Mr. Wright. That gentleman immediately made his appearance, when the captain informed him that, being satisfied of his aboli- tionism, they had come to eject him from the State. " Won't 3^ou give me two days to settle up my aft'airs ?" asked Wright. " Two daj's be d — d ! I'll give you five minutes to pack up your traps and leave here." " But I can't get ready in five minutes. I have a fine property here, and a happy home, and if you drive me off you'll make me a beggar. I have done nothing; if I go, my wife and children must starve!" "To h — 11 with your beggars! You must travel!" "Give me two hours!'' "I'll give you just five minutes, and not a second longer! If 3'ou ain't out by that time (here the gallant soldier swore a most fearful oath), I'll blow out your cursed abolition heart!" 16 242 HOW THE SECESH TOOK CLARK WRIGHT. "Well, if I must, I must!" and Wright turned toward the house as if in deep despair, gave a preconcerted whistle, and almost instantly after, the concealed forces rushed out, and surrounded the astonished captain and his braves. " Ah, captain," said Wright, as he turned imploringly toward him, " won't you grant me two days — two hours, at least, my brave friend, only two hours in which to prepare myself and family for beggary and starvation — now do, won't you ?" The captain could give no reply, but sat upon his horse, shaking as if ague-smitten. "Don't kill me!" he at length found voice to say. "■ Kill you ! No, you black-livered coward, I won't dirty my hands with any such filthy work. If I kill you, I'll have one of my niggers do it ! Get down from that horse !" The gallant captain obeyed, imploring only for life. The result of the matter was that the whole company dismounted, laid down their arms, and then, as they were filed out, were sworn to preserve their allegiance inviolate to the United States. An hour after, Mr. Wright had organized a force of 240 men f(>r the war, and by accla- mation was elected captain. The next Sunday he started • with liis command to join the National troops under Lyon, .sto]3ping long enough on his way to surround the Hard- shell Church, at which had originated all of his miseries. After the service was over, he adn)inistered the oath of allegiance to every one present, including the Reverend Pecksniff, who officiated, and then left them to plot treason and worship God in their own peculiarly pious and har- monious manner. A RACE FOR LIFE. 243 A KACE rOR LIFE. The following narrative is given, as nearly as possible, in the words of the party immediately involved, and is another exemplification of the barbarism of slavery : — I had been doing a heavy wholesale and retail provi- sion business in the city of Augusta, Georgia, for two years, and was getting along with the inhabitants very smoothly, until a little circumstance transpired in the fall of 1860 which incited the populace against me. I had taken more or less interest in political affairs while I lived there, and, as much from policy as anything else, adopted a conservative view of matters. I was a strong Bell and Everett man, and wdien the State Convention was in session, I was mentioned as one of the State elec- tors. As it was known that I came from Iowa, some of my political constituents wrote to the latter city for informa- tion as to my antecedents. The letter was addressed to one of the prominent law firms of Dubuque, and for some unaccountable reason answered in such a manner as to direct the deepest indignation of the community where I lived towards me. They were informed that I was a loud-mouthed abolitionist, and had stumped the State of Iowa for Fremont. Within a short time of the receipt of that letter my house was surrounded by an infuriated mob, eager to wreak a blind vengeance on me. I ap- pealed to the mayor, who was a warm personal friend of mine, for protection. He responded by calling out tho entire police force to disperse the rabble. Myself an'l son-in-law stood all that night at the head of the first flight of stairs, in my house, with fire-arm.*-' and axes, resolved to sell our lives as dearly as possible, should the miscreants break in. My brave wife knew no fear, and would not leave my side, although I en- treated her to do so. She seemed nerved to desperation 244 A RACE FOR LIFE. by our common danger, and ready to face and sacrifice her life, if necessary, in defence of our borne. Tbe people were pacified at last wben they found us too resolute to be imposed upon, and after a short time I was allowed to pursue my business as usual. I satisfied them apparently that I did not entertain principles repug- nant to their peculiar views, and convinced them that the information they had received was a tissue of false- hoods, yet there ever after lurked among them a suspi- cion of my loyalty to the South. Thus we lived through the winter, the community daily becoming more excited and bitter against those who did not coincide to the letter with the damnable opinions that then ruled the hour. In illu.?tration of this I will only cite one instance. A party of merchants were discussing the impending crisis, one afternoon in a store not far from mine, when one of my neighbors made the following remark — " Gentlemen, we must be careful, and not underrate the strength of the enemy." That same night a committee culled on him, and asked him if he had made such a remark, when he replied, "Yes. I do not seethe harm in it. It is one of the first lessons in militar3'' strategy not to underrate the power of the foe." His explanation availed liim nothing. He was seized, and one side of his head and face shaved clean of the hair and whiskers. Then the newly shaved portions were daubed with tar and feathers. He then re- ceived forty lashes, and was given to understand that he had twelve hours in which to make himself scarce. This w-as not an isolated instance. Deeds of violence were of daily occurrence, and many times they resulted in the death'of the victim. With such a state of society boiling around me, I naturally felt anxious to remove my family beyond all chance of injury. Finally, when they had for some time been drafting troops from the city for Jeff Davis' arm v, I foresaw the time Avhen I would bo called on, and determined to remove my wife and A RACE FOR LIFE, 245 children to the North. I started off with them, and sent them forward, while I returned to Augusta to close up mj business. I continued in my trade there for a short time, endea- voring to convert my property into funds that would be current in Iowa. I dared not purchase gold at the bank myself, for fear of attracting the attention of the Vigilance Committee. No one was allowed to leave the country openly. Through the friendship of a young man named Powers, who had been boarding with me, I purchased some current funds, perhaps three or four hundred dollars. He was a book peddler from Ohio, who had been selling a work entitled, " Cotton is King," and it was through his friendship and services mainly that I escaped. One afternoon, an orderly sergeant came into my count- ing room and informed me that it would be necessary, in accordance with a recent requisition from Montgomery, for me to enlist. I saw that it Avould not do to hesitate an instant, and therefore manifested great readiness, and eagerness to join. I was told I could have my choice between infantry and cavalry, and that I must meet my comrades that night at the armory. I chose to join the cavalry, and at the appointed hour was on hand to enroll my name. I was very zealous, apparently, in my wishes to light the abolitionists, and by skilfully guarding my speech, led my comrades to think I was the best seces- sionist of them all. The sergeant presented me with a splendid Colt's navy revolver, which had just been stolen from the United States. I requested him to load it for me, as I was not posted in that sort of thing. He did so. Those five charges are still in the barrels, and so help me, they shall never be fired off' until they are discharged into the body of the sergeant who loaded it. I got away from the armory, and hurried home, where I found Powers making preparations to go North by the next train, which left at half past ten that night. I UAd him I must get away from Augusta that night at any 246 A RACE FOR LIFE. cost I asked him to take my carpet-bag on board tbe train, and if I did not call for it in a certain time, to send it to my family in Dubuque. He said be would do so. I locked up my store and house, the one completely furnished from top to bottom, and the other containing some nine thousand dollars' worth of goods, which I was obliged to leave behind to fall into the hands of the rebels. I then repaired to the depot nearly an hour before the time for the departure of the train, and secreted myself under the rear car, on a cross-piece which connected the Avheels. Grasping my pistol in my hand, and resolving to shoot the first man who should discover me, I waited for events. Soon after I had gained this position the Vigilance Committee came into the depot. They were a party of men appointed to see that no Northern meu went away on the train, and to exercise a general surveil- lance over all suspicious characters. If they discovered a Northern man, he was taken out, whipped, and otherwise maltreated — usually shot ; so I knew what my fate would be, if I was detected. As the hour for starting drew near, my suspense was agonizing in the extreme. Finally a little incident occurred which probably insured my sal- vation from their clutches. The committee went through the cars after the passengers were seated, and closely questioning and scrutinizing every individual. In one car they found an old man who answered to the descrip- tion of a man who had been tarred and feathered at Savannah and shipped off. Appending to the dispatch describing him, was the Christian injunction, "If you catch him, give him hell." One of the rufi&ans lifted his gray locks and saw the tar still adhering to his brow, where he had been unable to remove it. He fairly yelled with delight " Here's the old devil. We've got him !" etc. etc. They howled and then dragged him from the car to the platform outside, although they did not know of a thing he had done amiss. " Gentlemen," said the aged man respectfully, " I am an A RACE FOR LIFE. 24T old man, and do not know that I ever did any man wrong All I ask is for the privilege of getting Lome to my family. I beg you will release me." They laughed his entreaties to scorn, and bore him away in the dark, screeching and yelling like demons, doubtless to torture him with scourges, and perhaps to murder him as they have so many before him. Duiiiig all this time I lay within a dozen feet of some of the part}^ expecting every moment I would be discovered by some unlucky friend. It is well for him and me he did not, for that moment would have been the signal for his death. I would have shot as many as I could, and died dearly. At last the train moved out of the depot slowly around a curve, and when it was out of the range of the depot lamps I dropped from my perch and clambered upon the rear car. Going into the car, I sat down in the darkest corner, and drew my hat over my face in order to escape recognition. By feigning sleep I escaped the attention and "remarks of my townsmen, many of whomx were on board of the train, until morning, when Ave reached Atlanta, some two hundred miles from Augusta. If I could get beyond there I knew I was comparatively safe, as there was no telegraph between that place and Chat- tanooga, though there was one from Augusta to Atlanta. It was daylight when we left Atlanta, so that iurther concealment was impossible. My fellow passengers ex- pressed considerable surprise at seeing me, and were anxious to know where I was going. I informed them that I was going to Chattanooga, as usual, to purchase a large quantity of bacon, in which I was dealing exten- sively. Men of my acquaintance, whom I knew to be in the same business, were also going after bacon, beef, pork, flour, and grain, and such other provisions as we were forced to purchase in the more northern States We all talked secession, loudly ; and wore cockades, and invoked destruction upon the Federal government ; 248 PLfCK ON THE FRONTIER. and none were more violent in the discussion than T. It Avas my only alternutive. I was fleeing for life, and the merest hair might turn the race against me. When we arrived at Chattanooga, we found the markets almost as high as at Augusta, so we concluded to go on as far as Nashville. On our arrival there we found that the Com- missary of the Confederate army had fairly skinned the town of everything worth having in the way of provisions, BO there was nothing left for us but to go on as far as Louisville, where we could obtain an unlimited supply at reasonable rates. There were five cars of us all going for provisions. At last we landed in Louisville, and found to our disap- pomtment (?) the inducements were so small for buying there, the only alternative left was to go to the great fountain head at Cincinnati, and buy what we wanted. We all went across the river into Indiana, and every soul of us got aboard of the cars for Cincinnati. Just before the train was about to start, an old man arose and made this remark : " Gentlemen, I don't know how you all feel, but I thank God I am on free soil once more." Oh ! you should have heard the shout that went up. Every man of us had been fleeing from Southern traitors, and dare not avow it to each other. We all got out of the cars again upon the platform, and there refreshed our throats for once with three loud cheers for Freedom PLUOK ON THE PEONTIER. Before the secession of Arkansas, one Thomas Wilhito Attached himself to a company of minute men, Avho were to be ready at a moment's warning to respond to the call of public danger. The most of the company were at heart Union men, and they secretly resolved to make their organization subservient to their own Avishes. While matters were in this situation, one James M, Scott PLUCK OX THE FRONTIER. 249 raised a secession flag in Cove Creek Townsliip, and called on the minute men to rally beneath it. The mi- vules just then became hours, and Wilhite and his com- panions made haste to rally very sloivhj. In fact, they flatly refused to do so, and Mr. Scott's banner hung lazily from the staflf, looking for all the world as though it had been brought out to droop and die. Wilhite had now thoroughly committed himself to the Union cause, and it behooved him to look well to his personal safety. The rebel element predominated in his neighborhood, and the "strikers" and "tools" of the secession leaders were im- placable in their resentments. Not considering, however, that his immediate personal peril was so great as to war- rant an abrupt departure from the State, and yet feeling that he must never go about unarmed, Wilhite remained at home, and prepared to " make a crop." When follow- ing the plow, a trusty rifle was invariably slung from his back, and a brace of revolvers were belted about him. At night the rifle stood at the head of the bed, and he often slept with his revolvers on. Several times, when in the field, he descried men coming to take him prisoner. He would then leave the plow in the furrow, slip into the woods, and remain there until his enemies went away. There was no danger of their interfering with the horses or the plow. They knew too well the deadliness of his aim, and the disagreeable doubt as to who would be his victim, kept them all away from the peril. One day in June, six rebels, knowing that he was at home, rode hastily up to take him, but he was too quick for them, and, dodging around a corner of the house, with his rifle and revolvers, held his advantage while a parley took place. The?/ informed him that they had come to arrest him because he was a Union man. He informed them that they would have to reinforce and come again, that six men were not enough for the business, and that if any of them "dropped a gun," one man would fall «twe, and they would not know beforehand who it was to 250 PLUCK ON THE FRONTIER. be. Like their predecessors, wlio scouted the corn-field, thev returned as wise as they came, even requesting that they might ride away unharmed. Not long afterwards, another squad rode up to the house for a similar purpose. Fortunately ^^^ilhite was absent, but his mother was considerately shown the rope with which they intended to hang him. Going during the same summer to Kidd's mill, near Cane Ilill, for flour for the family, a knot of men gathered around and " al- lowed" to take him prisoner On the other hand, he "a] lowed" that if they made any such attempt, he should defend himself to the last ; that he had thirteen shots, and should try his best to make some of them "tell," and that they could not take him alive. His determination subdued the crowd somewhat, and a merchant of the place, interceding in his behalf, on the ground that he might yet make a good soiUhern soldier, he was permitted to transact his business at the mill and return home. There was living at this time not far away from "Wil- hite, a Baptist minister, known by many as " Old Tommy Dodson, the preacher," otherwise rejoicing in the chriii- tened name of Thomas. He was a violent secessionist, and preached whenever audiences could be assembled, whether on the Sabbath or during tlie week; nor did he confine liimself to Biblical teaching. The sword of the spirit was not, in his judgment, the only weapon to be wielded for the Confederacy. His tirades were frequent and unsparing against Union men and Black Republi- cans, who, if they did not recant, were to be driven off or shot. On one occasion, when Wilhite attended his ser- vices, the congregation was quite large for the locality, and in it were several soldiers belonging to the regular rebel army. The preacher's harangue savored, as usual, of public affairs. The secession of the State was justi- fied ; the public functionaries at Richmond lauded; a highly-wrought prophecy of the grandeur of the new Republic was pronounced, and then fell the ministerial PLUCK ON THE TRONTIER. 251 denunciation on all those wlio still clung to the old go- vernment. Warming with his subject, and evidently fifrowiug indignant, he exclaimed — " If there is a Union man within the sound of my voice, I want him to leave the house, and leave it now — a." Thinking it about time to depart, and having no re luctance to define his position, Wilhite started for the door. " Then, go — a," resumed the excited and now somewhat exhausted preacher, moving towards the retreating Fed- eral, " and darken not again the house of God. And do you, my brave boj-s," pointing to the rebel soldiers, "fight on for the glo-o-o-rious Southern Confederacy. The Lord is on our side. The Lord will help us to gain the independence of the South." By this time Wilhite was in the yard, and the Rev. Thomas Dodson began slowly to return to his normal condition. Eighteen months later, the same clerical gentleman was an inmate of the guard-house at Fayetteville, under charges for trial before a military commission, to sit at Springfield, and Wilhite was ofiicer of the guard. Alas I the mutations of sublunary affairs. The summer and autumn passed without any special peril to Wilhite, other than that referred to, except that the necessity for vigilance was greater, so much, in fact, that in November he was compelled to " lay out." Anti- cipating a winter of trouble, unless he were to take un- usual precautions against it, he had, by night, hauled one hundred bushels of corn and some other forage to a secluded spot on the Boston Mountains, intending to pass the winter in a cave and subsist a few horses. In this manner he lived, clandestinely, until the month of May, with William Zinnamon, who, for a time, had been his companion in the cave. Colonel M. La Rue Harrison was then organizing the Arkansian refugees into what subsequently became the First Regiment of Arkansas Cavalry Volunteers, and 252 PLUCK ON THE FRONTTER. Wilhite at once identified himself witli the project. Being empowered not long afterwards as a recruiting officer for the regiment, he left Springfield on the 5th of July, with Dr. Wm. Hunter, of Washington County, and Thomas J. Gilstrap, of Crawford County, afterwards respectively assistant surgeon and a lieutenant in the same regiment. Falling in with the expedition com- manded by Major Miller, they proceeded with it to Fayetteville, whence they moved on to the head of White Eiver. Recruiting in Arkansas for the Union Army was at that time a perilous undertaking. Loyal men avowed their principles at the hazard of life, and the greatest difficulty to be overcome was in getting recruits to the rendezvous of the regiment for which enlistments were being made. The Provost Marshal's department of Arkansas, as organ- ized by Major General Hindman, then commanding the trans-Mississippi district, was in active operation. Numer- ous companies of provost guards had been formed, and, under color of orders, were robbing Union men and com- mitting all manner of outrages. They were especially zealous in their efforts to check the growing tendency to enlist in the " Abolition Army," as they termed it, and hunted with the eagerness of a bloodhound those Union men who, first cautious, and then expeditious, abandoned their homes for the woods, and the woods for the Federal pickets. The general order gave license to rapine, and stimulated the blind zeal of a prejudiced people. By arrangement, Wilhite and Gilstrap, having for recruiting purposes gone into different neighborhoods, were to meet at a house on Fall Creek, in Washington County, and there concert measures for the removal, or getting northward rather, of their recruits. For some reason or other, Gilstrap had departed on Wilhite's arri- val, and the latter having with him twenty-eight men, determined to retire into the White River Hills and the Boston Mountains, and collecting from the adjoining PLUCK ON THE FRONTIER. 253 settlements still other men who were anxious to get away, bide his time for departure. At first he went to Winn's Creek, at the head of the west fork of White Kiver. His re-appearance in a country where he was so well known, and his object thoroughly understood, caused great watch- fulness on tlie part of the secession element. One, Doctor H. Spencer in particular, afterwards a citizen prisoner, at Springfield, Missouri, under the general charge of robbing Union men, was very active in his endeavors to find out how many recruits Wilhite had. An old, vindictive man, with a countenance that would have betrayed him in a church, we well remember his appearance when brought before us for examination. He had hunted Wilhite and others as the woodman seeks his game, and we made short work of preliminaries. Spencer, a home gu:.rd himself, and co-operating with the bands now organized and organizing under the general order before mentioned, placed every impediment possible in the way of the daring recruiting officer. There were now in Crawford and Washington Counties, carrying out the spirit, if not the letter of the order, no less than six companies led by notorious marauders, all of whom were on the track of Wilhite. He still, how- ever, succeeded in avoiding capture. His rendezvous was the wilds of the Boston'Mountains; his subsistence the irregular hospitality of secret Union men, and his comrades, now together and now apart, increased their numbers and their resolution alike by daring and danger. His camp of instruction was a thicket or a hill, and his times for drill the opportune moments when provost guards came within range, and his trusty weapons made targets of traitors. Lying in the woods one day in August, with six men, a bloodhound was heard baying in the distance, and appa- rently on liis track. Like a general in the field, Wilhite i rn- med lately made '•' his dispositions,"' each man taking a tree. and re-examining his weapons. Their horses were tied in a 254- PLUCK ON THE FRONTIER. thicket a short distance off, and they now awaited the approach. Presently a number of men were observed advancing; the hound had been called in, and they moved very cautiously, dismounting- when they observed Wilhite, and creeping warily toward him. Discovering three men evidently endeavoring to get a safe shot at him, he an- ticipated their design by commencing hostilities with both barrels of his shot-gun. Wounding two, the third placed a tree between himself and danger, and afterwards still further increased his chances for life by slipping away entirely. This attack, more sudden and effective than they had anticipated, cooled the ardor of the home guards, and though a number of guns were fired, which but for the friendly protection of the forest would have been deadly in their effect, they fell back, remounted their horses, and rode off. Wilhite now assumed the offensive, and approaching the highway by a devious but rapid and effective movement, came suddenly upon his foes of the hour before Singling out the leader of the party as the object of his personal aim, he missed the man, but killed his horse. Several others, however, were wounded, but succeeded in escajiing. This little affair roused the leaders again, and vigilance was redoubled. Rallying under the provost marshal of Crawford County, two hundred camped one evening at the three forks of Lee's Creek, in the county last mentioned. From a high bluff adjacent to, and over- looking their camp, Wilhite had watched them for several hours, and when niuht set in, knowing^ that he could not attack, for he had but two men, he nevertheless deter- mined to acquaint them with his proximity. Hallooing with ail his might, he informed whom it might concern, that if they wanted him they must catch him, as it would be unpleasant just then to surrender. How or why, we are unable to say, but early on the following morning the guards decamped. Possibly they feared an attack ; and then, again, should they assume the PLUCK ON THE FRONTIER. 255 offensive, tlie disagreeable uncertainty of the bushes was too fresh in memory to be rashly courted. Wilhite lin- gered long enough to see his enemies disappear, when he dashed again into the woods. A short time after this occurrence, his father was arrested while moving along the highway near the west fork of the White Eiver. There was with him a small boy, who, not being inter- fered with, hastened as expeditiously as he dared to the hiding place, not far away, of two of Wilhite's men. They were there, fortunately, and knowing where Wil- hite then was, lost no time in acquainting him with his father's arrest. Hurriedly collecting four of his men, he started down the Van Buren Road, and after a sharp run of nine miles, overtook his father, then guarded by seven men. Four of the guards "broke" for the woods, and the remaining three were taken, dismounted, relieved of their arms, and then set at liberty. About this time a warrant for the arrest and execution of Wilhite was procured from the rebel military author- ities. It proving somewhat difiicult to proceed under this warrant, according to its exigency. General Hindman offered a reward of seven thousand dollars, and three honorable discharges from the Confederate service to any man who would bring in Williite, livinj? or dead. Xo- tices to this effect were numerously posted along Cove, Fall, and Lee's Creeks, and the west fork of White Eiver. Scouting about one day in September, with a number of his men, and having occasion to cross Lee's Creek near the base of the southern slope of the Boston Mountains, Wilhite discovered one of these notices tacked to a tree. CLaiming the right to " cross notice," he appropriated the margin to his own use by inscribing thereon, a notification to this effect : That his men and himself claimed f^^ty square miles of the Boston Mountains, and that if Hind- man and his provost guards trespassed upon their do- minions, they would seek to drive them into the vaHey below, and there assume the offensive. He now takes 256 PLUCK ON THE FRONTIER. from his pocket the Jack of diamonds, nails it to the tree, writing above the liead of this well-known gentleman the significant word "Union," informed "Squire" liindman, that if he wants him he must first catch him, and to be careful at the same time that he does not " catch a Tartar." The party now rode off. A few days later, when Wilhite was lying in the wooda near the summit of the Boston Mountains, word came to him that General liindman himself had just eaten dinner at a house not far distant, and that he was then on the road to Fayetteville, moving in a carriage with a body guard of but six men. Hastily gathering a few of his com- panions, Wilhite took up the pursuit. Bearing still further from the highway than he then was, he thought to strike it again in advance of the General, but in this he failed. In the distance, however, he descried the coveted car- riage, and hastened forward with all speed. Tlie pursued now took alarm and hurried away northward. The chase was becoming exciting, but unfortunately for the pursuers they were nearing the rebel pickets at Hog Eye, twelve miles south of Fayetteville. Conscious that they had no time to lose, Wilhite and two of his men took as steady aim as circumstances would admit, and away whizzed a ball after the carriage, a second, and then a third. But General liindman was still safe, though the pursuit did not cease until the pickets, his body guard and the car- riage went pell-mell into the poetically named village so conveniently at hand. The pursuers now wheeled about and hied away to their fastnesses. Leading thus a life of wild adventure, Wilhite passed his time on, and in the vicinity of the Boston Mountains, until the advance into Arkansas of the Army of the Frontier in October, 1862. His escapes from peril were manifold. His superior knowledge, however, of the woods, and his consciousness of the fact that nature would permit only a few men to operate against him at a time, gave him confidence and strength, and though there were PLUCK ON THE FRONTIER. 25T hundreds of rebels on all sides of him, to the Boston Mountains he did not bid adieu, until of his own volition he reported with a small squad of men to General Iler- ron, at Cross Hollows, twenty-eight miles south of tlie Missouri line. As early as August it had been found impracticable to take a number of recruits northward in a body, and Wilhite had accordingly determined to remain in the mountains, annoying the enemy and taking ven- geance upon those who had so cruelly robbed and mal- treated Union men, until his passage could be safely and easily made. From Cross Hollows, Wilhite proceeded to Elkhorn Tavern, where he rejoined his company, and was at once appointed its first lieutenant, a position that had been left vacant for months in the hope that he would yet arrive to fill it. From that time onward Wilhite was constantly engaged in active service, always entering with zest upon the adventures for which there is so much incentive on the border. On one occasion, while scouting below Fay etteville, and not far from his haunts of the summer pre- vious, he drove in Marmaduke's pickets, and then suddenly wheeling was off" again to the northward. He partici- pated in a nocturnal skirmish, and while out made a descent into a cave, under circumstances worthy perhaps of a relation. The cave in question was located about six miles south- east of Black's Mills, in Benton County, and was one in wliich men were known to occasionally secrete themselves. To it, on the afternoon preceding the skirmish, the detach- ment was conducted. Arriving at its mouth, and observ- ing traces of the recent entrance of some one, the men were disposed semi-circularly around it, and the unknown individual told to come out. No response. The order was repeated. Still no answer. Wilhite now volunteered to crawl in. Buckling a brace of revolvers fii-mly about him, and grasping a third in his right hand, he com- menced operations. Advancing upon all fours, and 17 258 A NIGHT ADVENTURE OX THE POTOMAC. moving about seventy-five yards into the cave, situated on a bill side, he discovered a nnan crouching in ap- parently great fear. Breaking the silence by ordering him out, the figure began to move and he to follow. As the unknown individual approached the light, the men brought their pieces to the shoulder and awaited his ap- pearance. Presently emerged a head, then shoulders, arms and hands. At sight of the men and their weapons, the unknown stopped while yet midway between the upper and nether earth, i^ested himself firmly on his hands, and looking queerly up and around him, exclaimed, " Well ! this beats me !" Ke was beaten surely enough, but found his captors inclined to treat him kindly. Taken to Elkhorn he was afterwards released, but cau- tioned to refrain in the future from running when he saw Federals. Thus far the advice has been heeded. A NIGHT ADVENTUSE ON THE POTOMAC. I was invited bv a soldier of the regiment of the " Fire Zouaves" to accompany him in one of those private ad- ventures which were so popular among the men in his corps, while upon the banks of the Potomac. This kind of expedition always carries with it a charm which inflames the imagination of the volunteer to a de- gree unknown in the more precise movements of a regu- lar force. The individual courage of the man seems lost in comparison among a concentrated mass Avhich depends for its success not so much upon personal prowess as U|)()n a mechanical exactitude in its evolutions. Men of the description of my adventurous friend are generally despisers of stiff-collared coats and close drill, and especial admirers of a loose jacket and a " free fight." With them a niartinet, unless he prove a fighter, is simply iin abomination. In a few words, acconipanied by some mysterious ges« A NIGHT ADVENTTJHE ON THE POTOMAC. 259 tures, my friend n informed me that, through the disclosures of a deserter who had just arrived from the rebel lines, he had learned that a quantity of ammunition, consisting: of several thousand ball cartridges for musket use, had been concealed in an upper room of a house be- longing to a noted secessionist and suspected spy This house was distant about three miles from our encamp- ment, and the cartridges Avhich were concealed therein had been packed in small canvas bags; these bags the daring fellow proposed, with the assistance of myself to capture or destroy. His plan was thus : We were to ob- tain, by some means, a horse and wagon, to be ready at a certain point, a short distance from the camp, at sunset, and each proceed thither by different routes, in order the better to avoid observation, and as soon as darkness fell upon the scene, drive cautiously to within a few hundred yards of the dwelling containing the contemplated plunder. Then, hiding the wagon in a neighboring clump of trees, some distance from the road, we were to proceed in such a manner as circumstances would permit. In answer to my inquiries as to the feasibility of procuring the wagon, and the possibility of our ever being able to load it even if we succeeded in coming in contact with the coveted . . . -I ammunition bags, I was greeted by a significant wink and two or three slow successive nods of the head, which, if not productive of much intelligence, were quite indi- cative of the Zouave's determination to carry out his design. The sun was declining when I started on my journey, taking a somewhat circuitous path to the place of rendez- vous, and walking in an irregular strolling manner, the better to escape the observation of the comrades of my friend, who were always on the alert for any adventure. Behind a rising and well-wooded piece of ground, I soon discovered my friend H , coolly seated in a one-horse wagon, smoking a short pipe, and at intervals, philoso- phically lecturing a ragged son of Africa upon the pro- 260 A NIGHT ADVENTrRE ON THE POTOMAC. priety of his meeting us at this same spot on the follow- ing night, in order to receive his hofv^e and vehicle, and the desired remuneration for the use of them. After many doubtful scratches of his woolly head^ and singular expressions of dissatisfaction — all of which were met by threat disgust and heavy threats on the part of the Zouave of a marvellous punishment to be dealt out to the muti- nous " darky" if he presumed to dog our path — he per- mitted us to depart, and we left him, evidently in a thick fog as to the fate of the property so inconsiderately in- trusted to the safe keeping of a stranger. After a short drive, during which but few words were spoken, we arrived at the spot where we had agreed to conceal the horse and wagon. This operation effected, we next proceeded to calculate chances. After a few parting puff?, H shook the ashes from his pipe, thrust it into the pocket of his jacket, and drawing forth from the wagon a coil of fine rope, which he hung round his neck, gave the word to advance. It was now pitch dark; the distance from the place of our destination two hun- dred yards, according to my comrade's estimate. A solitary light, gleaming red amid the darkness ahead of us, betrayed the spot where stood the building which contained the object of our expedition. With this light for our guide, we cautiously advanced in silence, un- broken save by the occasional snapping of some dried twigs beneath our feet, and the muttered malediction be- stowed upon it by my companion. At length, we came into close proximity to the house. Everything seemed to be buried in a deep stillness. Not a sound could we hear. Not the warning growl of a dog gave notice of our approach. No light was visible, but the one which had hitherto been our guide, and this still shone from the half-closed casement of an apartment on the ground floor. The window-sill was about as high from the ground as the ordinary height of a man, and under this we crept and crouched to listen for any sounds A NIGUT ADVENTURE ON THE POTOMAC. 261 that miglit escape from tlie interior. Directly over this room, H told me, our intended prize was concealed. He was thoroughly informed as to the relative positions of the different passages necessary to pass throiigli in order to gain the desired treasure. The darkness of the night was so dense that it was with difficulty we could discern the presence of each other, as we lay and lis tened. Suddenly there was bustle within and the sound of several voices. The warning produced by the low, hiss- ing "hush" of my comrade prevented a half-uttered ex- clamation of surprise from fully escaping my lips. This noise of men and voices was evidently caused by a large party now collected in the room in which the light was burning. They must have entered the house from the other side, and the clang of arms, as we distinctly heard the men carelessly lay aside their weapons, assured us they were no neutrals in the struggle going on between our divided countrjmien. From fatigue, arising from the constrained posture in which I lay, I made a sudden movement, which caused me to fall against my companion, at the same time making the gravel beneath my feet send forth the grating sound peculiar to it when suddenly and violently disturbed. In an instant the sounds within ceased (silenced by the sus- picions caused by my most unfortunate stumbling), the casement was dashed open, and half a dozen heads were thrust out into the gloom. A movement now, if no louder than that the lizard makes among the grass, or a single sigh forced from our beating hearts and compressed breath, would have been the forerunner of certain death. Nothing could have saved us from the fate of the spy. For several minutes we remained motionless, and heard various conjectures among the men as to the cause of their sudden alarm. Little did they imagine that at that moment, within a few feet of their knives, which more than one grasped in his hand unsheathed, lay, concealed by tho 262 A NIGHT ADVENTURE ON THE POTOMAC. darkness, two of the hated invaders. But we would have been found no easy sacrifice. Each of us covered with tlie muzzle of his revolver the breast of a foe, and the first intimation given of our discovery would have cost them at least two lives that night. At length they withdrew their heads into the apart- ment, half closed the casement as before, and we were again alone. "Whether they retired perfectly satisfied as to the result cf their blind inspection or not, we could not tell. It was at this moment that H , grasping me by the arm, Avhispered me to follow him closely In croucliing attitudes we crept round the building; each step taken with peculiar care, lest any unlucky sound on our part should again arouse suspicion, which, in all pro- bability, was still unallayed. After many cautions pauses and anxious straining of eye and ear, we reached the other side of the house, where, after proceeding a few steps, my leader halted and be- gan exploring with his hand, until it lighted upon the latch of a door in the wall. Placing his mouth close to my ear, he again whispered me that it was of vitai im- portance we should cast oft" our shoes and carry them in our hands, as by leaving them behind they might be found by the enemy, and thus become the means of be- traying us. Accordingly, in a few seconds, we stood in our stockings, ready to pursue to the last limit the wind- ings of the adventure. Noiselessly lifting the door-latch, II led the way into a passage, if possible darker than the outside gloom from which we entered. Groping our way we carefully advanced, and reached the foot of a flight of stairs, which, at a sign from my companion, we ascended as swiftly as the imperative necessity for a perfect silence permitted. We reached the landing, whose extent was hidden in the same impene- trable darkness, traversed it for the distance of several feet, and at lensrth arrived at a door, which H at- tempted to open, but found locked. This he assured me A NIGHT ADVENTURE ON THE POTOMAC. 263 •was the room whicla contained the cartridge-bags, and not to gain entrance into it would render all the risk we had hitherto run useless, as all further attempts we might make would prove unavailing. At this crisis of our proceedings we discovered, within a few feet of us, a small window, which, on gently open- ing, we found led out upon the roof of the piazza that ran along all sides of the house. To step out upon this rool; closing the window after us as gently as we had opened it, was the work of a few seconds. Here we lay down, at full length, for several minutes to listen ; but no sound reached ns, excepting an indistinct clamor proceeding from the room beneath, in which was assembled the party of rebels. Relinquishing our recumbent postures, we crept on our hands and knees until we reached the next window, which belonged to the room we were so anxious to explore. To our great satisfaction, we found it not only unfastened, but opened wide, and, one after the other, we passed through into the interior. Again we paused in motionless silence, and again we listened intently,, but nothing beyond the sounds already mentioned met our ears, and we proceeded to search in darkness for the bags of ammunition. We- came upon them simultaneously in one corner of the room, piled into a heap. We com- menced our work at once by passing them out two at a time, through the window upon the piazza roof. Silently and swiftly was the task accomplished, until not a bag remained. We searched every foot of the floor, travers- ing its length and breadth until we were thoroughly convinced ourselves were the sole objects, animate or inanimate, it contained. Passing out, our next movement was to carry round the V):igs to the extreme end of the piazza. This involved the necessity of traversing the full length of one side of the building. With much labor and anxiety, as we had to pro- ceed more warily than ever, at each step, we at last accom- plished it. And now we held a consultation, whether it 2G4 A NIGHT ADVENTURE ON THE POTOMAC. were better to risk the attempt of carrying off our prize by degrees to the spot where we had concealed the wagon^ or destroy it at once by lowering bag alter bag into a deep well, H informed me was directly beneath us, as Ave leaned over the balcony of the piazza. We concluded the latter plan was the best, and accordingly, my companion uncoiling the rope he still carried around his neck and fastening one end of it to the balcony, rapidly descended, after telling me to haul up the other end again, attach to it the bags (three or four at a time), and lower them to him, when he would drop them singly into the well. We had nearly finished this part of our task, when, rendered reckless by the apparent security with which it was continued — the splashing of each bag into the well exciting no suspicion on the part of our dangerous neigh- bors at the other extremity of the dwelling — H flung down into its depths the last nine, three at once, instead of dropping them singly, as he had hitherto done. At this moment, the close proximity of approaching footsteps along the roof made me turn in the direction whence the sound they caused proceeded, and instantly I was engaged in a deadly struggle with an antagonist. The scene now became one of the wildest confusion. The rush of hostile feet along the roof bespoke the rapid advance of foes, whose numbers it would be madness to contend with. Beneath, a desperate encounter was going on between my comrade and one or more of the rebels, as many a fierce oath testified. My left hand was firmly fastened on the throat of the man with whom I was con- tending, yet he clung to me with maddening tenacity. Reflection and action were the twinborn of an urgent second. With my right hand I had managed to draw and cock my revolver. My life and liberty were in the hands of a grasping foe. There was no compromise here; my life or his! Pressing the muzzle of my pistol to his head, I fired, and he fell with scattered brains at my feet. The next instant I dropped from the balcony A NTGHT ADVENTURE ON THE POTOMAC. 265 to the ground where H was battling in close quarters Here I stumbled over a fallen man. In the act of re- gaining mj feet, my hand came in contact with his breast or side, and was instantly bathed in a warm gush of streaming blood. " Where are you, H ?" I shouted. "Here." The response came from within a yard or two of the spot where I stood. I found my companion struggling on the ground, in savage fury, with a fellow evidently of much superior muscular power to himself. Quick as thought my strength was united to his, and Avith one concentrated, determined, and desperate effort we flung our herculean foe headlong down the well. Without waiting to draw breath, we started and fled for life, baffling a host of enemies by the suddenness of our plunge amidst the thick surrounding darkness. "This way," cried H , and keeping close together we quickly reached our concealed wagon. To spring inside was the work of a second, and away we went for the camp. The Zouave drove, and his driving was like the driving of Jehu ! " I guess it would have been all up with me," he said at length, " if you hadn't come in as you did. There were two of them on me before I knew where I was, when I found I'd lost my Colt ; so I gave one a dig with the full length of my bowie, and then went in for a good wrestle with the fellow we treated to a drink." We reached camp unpursued. The wagon was re- turned punctually next night, as promised, to the as- tonished and grateful darkey, but whether or not he received any further remuneration for the loan of his property than the safe return of it I am unable to state- 266 THE TENNESSEE BLACKSMITH. THE TENNESSEE BLACKSMITH. Near the cross-roads, not far from the Cumberland Mountains, stood the village forge. The smith vras a sturdy man of fifty. He was respected, wherever known, for his stern integrit3^ He served God, and did not fear man — and it might be safely added, nor devil either. His courage was proverbial in the neighborhood ; and it was a common remark when wishing to pay any person a high compliment, to say, " He is as brave as Okl Brad- ley." One night, towards the close of September, as he stood alone by the anvil plying his labors, his counte- nance evinced a peculiar satisfiaction as he brought his hammer down with a vigorous stroke on the heated iron. While blowing the bellows he would occasionally pause and shake his head, as if communing with himself. He was evidently meditating upon something of a serious nature. It was during one of these pauses that the door was thrown open, and a pale, trembling figure staggered into the shop, and, sinking at the smith's feet, faintly ejaculated — " In the name of Jesus, protect me !" As Bradley stooped to raise the prostrate form, three men entered, the foremost one exclaiming — " We've treed him at last! There he is! Seize him!" and as he spoke he pointed at the crouching figure. The others advanced to obey the order, but Bradley suddenly arose, seized his sledge-hammer, and brandish- ing it about his head as if it were a sword, exclaimed — " Back ! Touch him not ; or, by the grace of God, I'll brain ye !" They hesitated, and stepped backward, not wishing to encounter the sturdy smith, for his countenance plainly told them that he meant what he said. "Do you give shelter to an abolitionist?" fiercely shouted the leader. THE TENNESSEE BLACKSMITH. 2G7 " I give shelter to a weak, defenceless man," replied the smith. " He is an enemy !" vociferated the leader. " Of the devil !" ejaculated Bradley. " He is a spy ! an abolition hound !" exclaimed the leader, with increased vehemence ; " and we must have him. So I tell you, Bradley, you had better not inter- fere. You know that you are already suspected, and if you insist upon sheltering him it will confirm it." " Sus-2)ect-ed ! Suspected of what?" exclaimed the smith, in a firm tone, riveting his gaze upon the speaker. " Why, of adhering to the North," was the reply. "Adhering to the North !" ejaculated Bradley, as he cast his defiant glances at the speaker. " I adhere to no North," he continued; "I adhere to my country— my whole country — and will, so help me God ! as long as I have breath !" he added, as he brought the sledge-hammer to the ground with great force. " You ha