[Illustration: QUESTIONING A PRISONER. ]

FAMOUS ADVENTURESAND PRISON ESCAPESOF THE CIVIL WAR

[Illustration]

NEW YORK THE CENTURY CO. 

1913

Copyright 1885, 1888, 1889, 1890, 1891, 1893, by

THE CENTURY CO. 

CONTENTS

 PAGE

WAR DIARY OF A UNION WOMAN IN THE SOUTH 1

THE LOCOMOTIVE CHASE IN GEORGIA 83

A ROMANCE OF MORGAN'S ROUGH-RIDERS 116

COLONEL ROSE'S TUNNEL AT LIBBY PRISON 184

A HARD ROAD TO TRAVEL OUT OF DIXIE 243

ESCAPE OF GENERAL BRECKINRIDGE 298

ILLUSTRATIONS

 PAGE

QUESTIONING A PRISONER Frontispiece

THE LOCOMOTIVE CHASE 85

GENERAL JOHN H. MORGAN 117

MAP OF THE MORGAN RAID 118

THE FARMER FROM CALFKILLER CREEK 123

GENERAL DUKE TESTS THE PIES 125

HOSPITALITIES OF THE FARM 131

LOOKING FOR THE FOOTPRINTS OF THE VAN 137

CORRIDOR AND CELLS IN THE OHIO STATE PENITENTIARY--CAPTAINHINES'S CELL 161

EXTERIOR OF THE PRISON--EXIT FROM TUNNEL 163

WITHIN THE WOODEN GATE 167

OVER THE PRISON WALL 171

"HURRY UP, MAJOR!" 175

CAPTAIN HINES OBJECTS 178

COLONEL THOMAS E. ROSE 185

A CORNER OF LIBBY PRISON 187

LIBBY PRISON IN 1865 189

MAJOR A. G. HAMILTON 191

LIBBY PRISON IN 1884 197

LIBERTY! 223

FIGHTING THE RATS 230

SECTION OF INTERIOR OF LIBBY PRISON AND TUNNEL 233

GROUND-PLAN OF LIBBY PRISON AND SURROUNDINGS 235

LIEUTENANTS E. E. SILL AND A. T. LAMSON 255

WE ARRIVE AT HEADEN'S 263

THE ESCAPE OF HEADEN 271

GREENVILLE JAIL 277

PINK BISHOP AT THE STILL 283

ARRIVAL HOME OF THE BAPTIST MINISTER 285

SURPRISED AT MRS. KITCHEN'S 291

THE MEETING WITH THE SECOND OHIO HEAVY ARTILLERY 295

SAND AS A DEFENSE AGAINST MOSQUITOS 307

SEARCHING FOR TURTLES' EGGS 310

THROUGH A SHALLOW LAGOON 313

EXCHANGING THE BOAT FOR THE SLOOP 315

OVER A CORAL-REEF 325

A ROUGH NIGHT IN THE GULF STREAM 331

FAMOUS ADVENTURES AND PRISON ESCAPES OF THE CIVIL WAR

WAR DIARY OF A UNION WOMAN IN THE SOUTH

EDITED BY G. W. CABLE

The following diary was originally written in lead-pencil and in a bookthe leaves of which were too soft to take ink legibly. I have it directfrom the hands of its writer, a lady whom I have had the honor to knowfor nearly thirty years. For good reasons the author's name is omitted, and the initials of people and the names of places are sometimesfictitiously given. Many of the persons mentioned were my ownacquaintances and friends. When, some twenty years afterward, she firstresolved to publish it, she brought me a clear, complete copy in ink. Ithad cost much trouble, she said; for much of the pencil writing had beenmade under such disadvantages and was so faint that at times she coulddecipher it only under direct sunlight. She had succeeded, however, inmaking a copy, _verbatim_ except for occasional improvement in thegrammatical form of a sentence, or now and then the omission, forbrevity's sake, of something unessential. The narrative has since beenseverely abridged to bring it within magazine limits. 

In reading this diary one is much charmed with its constantunderstatement of romantic and perilous incidents and conditions. Butthe original penciled pages show that, even in copying, the strong bentof the writer to be brief has often led to the exclusion of facts thatenhance the interest of exciting situations, and sometimes the omissionrobs her own heroism of due emphasis. I have restored one example ofthis in a foot-note following the perilous voyage down the Mississippi. 

G. W. CABLE. 

I

SECESSION

_New Orleans, Dec. 1, 1860. _--I understand it now. Keeping journals isfor those who cannot, or dare not, speak out. So I shall set up ajournal, being only a rather lonely young girl in a very small and hatedminority. On my return here in November, after a foreign voyage andabsence of many months, I found myself behind in knowledge of thepolitical conflict, but heard the dread sounds of disunion and warmuttered in threatening tones. Surely no native-born woman loves hercountry better than I love America. The blood of one of itsRevolutionary patriots flows in my veins, and it is the Union for whichhe pledged his "life, fortune, and sacred honor" that I love, not anydivided or special section of it. So I have been reading attentivelyand seeking light from foreigners and natives on all questions at issue. Living from birth in slave countries, both foreign and American, andpassing through one slave insurrection in early childhood, the saddestand also the pleasantest features of slavery have been familiar. If theSouth goes to war for slavery, slavery is doomed in this country. To sayso is like opposing one drop to a roaring torrent. 

_Sunday, Dec. ----, 1860. _--In this season for peace I had hoped for a lullin the excitement, yet this day has been full of bitterness. "Come, G. , "said Mrs. ---- at breakfast, "leave _your_ church for to-day and comewith us to hear Dr. ---- on the situation. He will convince you. " "It isgood to be convinced, " I said; "I will go. " The church was crowded tosuffocation with the élite of New Orleans. The preacher's text was, "Shall we have fellowship with the stool of iniquity which framethmischief as a law?" . . . The sermon was over at last, and then followed aprayer. . . . Forever blessed be the fathers of the Episcopal Church forgiving us a fixed liturgy! When we met at dinner Mrs. F. Exclaimed, "Now, G. , you heard him prove from the Bible that slavery is right andthat therefore secession is. Were you not convinced?" I said, "I was sobusy thinking how completely it proved too that Brigham Young is rightabout polygamy that it quite weakened the force of the argument for me. "This raised a laugh, and covered my retreat. 

_Jan. 26, 1861. _--The solemn boom of cannon to-day announced that theconvention have passed the ordinance of secession. We must take a reefin our patriotism and narrow it down to State limits. Mine still sticksout all around the borders of the State. It will be bad if New Orleansshould secede from Louisiana and set up for herself. Then indeed I wouldbe "cabined, cribbed, confined. " The faces in the house are jubilantto-day. Why is it so easy for them and not for me to "ring out the old, ring in the new"? I am out of place. 

_Jan. 28, Monday. _--Sunday has now got to be a day of specialexcitement. The gentlemen save all the sensational papers to regale uswith at the late Sunday breakfast. Rob opened the battle yesterdaymorning by saying to me in his most aggressive manner, "G. , I believethese are your sentiments"; and then he read aloud an article from the"Journal des Debats" expressing in rather contemptuous terms the factthat France will follow the policy of non-intervention. When I answered, "Well, what do you expect? This is not their quarrel, " he raved at me, ending by a declaration that he would willingly pay my passage toforeign parts if I would like to go. "Rob, " said his father, "keep cool;don't let that threat excite you. Cotton is king. Just wait till theyfeel the pinch a little; their tone will change. " I went to TrinityChurch. Some Union people who are not Episcopalians go there now becausethe pastor has not so much chance to rail at the Lord when things arenot going to suit. But yesterday was a marked Sunday. The usual prayerfor the President and Congress was changed to the "governor and peopleof this commonwealth and their representatives in convention assembled. "

The city was very lively and noisy this evening with rockets and lightsin honor of secession. Mrs. F. , in common with the neighbors, illuminated. We walked out to see the houses of others gleaming amid thedark shrubbery like a fairy scene. The perfect stillness added to theeffect, while the moon rose slowly with calm splendor. We hastened hometo dress for a soirée but on the stairs Edith said, "G. , first come andhelp me dress Phoebe and Chloe [the negro servants]. There is a ballto-night in aristocratic colored society. This is Chloe's firstintroduction to New Orleans circles, and Henry Judson, Phoebe's husband, gave five dollars for a ticket for her. " Chloe is a recent purchase fromGeorgia. We superintended their very stylish toilets, and Edith said, "G. , run into your room, please, and write a pass for Henry. Put Mr. D. 's name to it. " "Why, Henry is free, " I said. "That makes nodifference; all colored people must have a pass if out late. They choosea master for protection, and always carry his pass. Henry chose Mr. D. , but he's lost the pass he had. "

II

THE VOLUNTEERS--FORT SUMTER

_Feb. 24, 1861. _--The toil of the week is ended. Nearly a month haspassed since I wrote here. Events have crowded upon one another. On the4th the cannon boomed in honor of Jefferson Davis's election, and daybefore yesterday Washington's birthday was made the occasion of anothergrand display and illumination, in honor of the birth of a new nationand the breaking of that Union which he labored to cement. We drove tothe race-course to see the review of troops. A flag was presented to theWashington Artillery by ladies. Senator Judah Benjamin made animpassioned speech. The banner was orange satin on one side, crimsonsilk on the other, the pelican and brood embroidered in pale green andgold. Silver crossed cannon surmounted it, orange-colored fringesurrounded it, and crimson tassels drooped from it. It was a brilliant, unreal scene; with military bands clashing triumphant music, elegantvehicles, high-stepping horses, and lovely women richly appareled. 

Wedding-cards have been pouring in till the contagion has reached us;Edith will be married next Thursday. The wedding-dress is beingfashioned, and the bridesmaids and groomsmen have arrived. Edith hasrequested me to be special mistress of ceremonies on Thursday evening, and I have told this terrible little rebel, who talks nothing but bloodand thunder, yet faints at the sight of a worm, that if I fill thatoffice no one shall mention war or politics during the whole evening, onpain of expulsion. 

_March 10, 1861. _--The excitement in this house has risen to fever-heatduring the past week. The four gentlemen have each a different plan forsaving the country, and now that the bridal bouquets have faded, thethree ladies have again turned to public affairs; Lincoln's inaugurationand the story of the disguise in which he traveled to Washington is anever-ending source of gossip. The family board being the common forum, each gentleman as he appears first unloads his pockets of papers fromall the Southern States, and then his overflowing heart to his eagerfemale listeners, who in turn relate, inquire, sympathize, or cheer. IfI dare express a doubt that the path to victory will be a flowery one, eyes flash, cheeks burn, and tongues clatter, till all are checked upsuddenly by a warning for "Order, order!" from the amiable ladypresiding. Thus we swallow politics with every meal. We take a mouthfuland read a telegram, one eye on table, the other on the paper. One mustbe made of cool stuff to keep calm and collected, but I say but little. This war fever has banished small talk. Through all the black servantsmove about quietly, never seeming to notice that this is all about them. 

"How can you speak so plainly before them?" I say. 

"Why, what matter? They know that we shall keep the whip-handle. "

_April 13, 1861. _--More than a month has passed since the last datehere. This afternoon I was seated on the floor covered with loveliestflowers, arranging a floral offering for the fair, when the gentlemenarrived and with papers bearing news of the fall of Fort Sumter, which, at her request, I read to Mrs. F. 

_April 20. _--The last few days have glided away in a halo of beauty. Butnobody has time or will to enjoy it. War, war! is the one idea. Thechildren play only with toy cannons and soldiers; the oldest inhabitantgoes by every day with his rifle to practice; the public squares arefull of companies drilling, and are now the fashionable resorts. We havebeen told that it is best for women to learn how to shoot too, so as toprotect themselves when the men have all gone to battle. Every eveningafter dinner we adjourn to the back lot and fire at a target withpistols. Yesterday I dined at Uncle Ralph's. Some members of the barwere present, and were jubilant about their brand-new Confederacy. Itwould soon be the grandest government ever known. Uncle Ralph saidsolemnly, "No, gentlemen; the day we seceded the star of our glory set. "The words sunk into my mind like a knell, and made me wonder at the mindthat could recognize that and yet adhere to the doctrine of secession. 

In the evening I attended a farewell gathering at a friend's whosebrothers are to leave this week for Richmond. There was music. No minorchord was permitted. 

III

TRIBULATION

_April 25. _--Yesterday I went with Cousin E. To have her picture taken. The picture-galleries are doing a thriving business. Many companies areordered off to take possession of Fort Pickens (Florida), and all seemto be leaving sweethearts behind them. The crowd was in high spirits;they don't dream that any destinies will be spoiled. When I got homeEdith was reading from the daily paper of the dismissal of Miss G. Fromher place as teacher for expressing abolition sentiments, and that shewould be ordered to leave the city. Soon a lady came with a papersetting forth that she has established a "company"--we are nothing ifnot military--for making lint and getting stores of linen to supply thehospitals. 

My name went down. If it hadn't, my spirit would have been wounded aswith sharp spears before night. Next came a little girl with asubscription paper to get a flag for a certain company. The littlegirls, especially the pretty ones, are kept busy trotting around withsubscription lists. Latest of all came little Guy, Mr. F. 's youngestclerk, the pet of the firm as well as of his home, a mere boy ofsixteen. Such senseless sacrifices seem a sin. He chattered brightly, but lingered about, saying good-by. He got through it bravely untilEdith's husband incautiously said, "You didn't kiss your littlesweetheart, " as he always called Ellie, who had been allowed to sit up. He turned and suddenly broke into agonizing sobs and then ran down thesteps. 

_May 10. _--I am tired and ashamed of myself. Last week I attended ameeting of the lint society to hand in the small contribution of linen Ihad been able to gather. We scraped lint till it was dark. A paper wasshown, entitled the "Volunteer's Friend, " started by the girls of thehigh school, and I was asked to help the girls with it. I positivelydeclined. To-day I was pressed into service to make red flannelcartridge-bags for ten-inch columbiads. I basted while Mrs. S. Sewed, and I felt ashamed to think that I had not the moral courage to say, "Idon't approve of your war and won't help you, particularly in themurderous part of it. "

_May 27. _--This has been a scenic Sabbath. Various companies about todepart for Virginia occupied the prominent churches to have their flagsconsecrated. The streets were resonant with the clangor of drums andtrumpets. E. And myself went to Christ Church because the WashingtonArtillery were to be there. 

_June 13. _--To-day has been appointed a Fast Day. I spent the morningwriting a letter on which I put my first Confederate postage-stamp. Itis of a brown color and has a large 5 in the center. To-morrow must bedevoted to all my foreign correspondents before the expected blockadecuts us off. 

_June 29. _--I attended a fine luncheon yesterday at one of the publicschools. A lady remarked to a school official that the cost ofprovisions in the Confederacy was getting very high, butter, especially, being scarce and costly. "Never fear, my dear madam, " he replied. "Texasalone can furnish butter enough to supply the whole Confederacy; we'llsoon be getting it from there. " It's just as well to have this sublimeconfidence. 

_July 15. _--The quiet of midsummer reigns, but ripples of excitementbreak around us as the papers tell of skirmishes and attacks here andthere in Virginia. "Rich Mountain" and "Carrick's Ford" were the last. "You see, " said Mrs. D. At breakfast to-day, "my prophecy is coming truethat Virginia will be the seat of war. " "Indeed, " I burst out, forgetting my resolution not to argue, "you may think yourselves luckyif this war turns out to have any seat in particular. "

So far, no one especially connected with me has gone to fight. How gladI am for his mother's sake that Rob's lameness will keep him at home. Mr. F. , Mr. S. , and Uncle Ralph are beyond the age for active service, and Edith says Mr. D. Can't go now. She is very enthusiastic about otherpeople's husbands being enrolled, and regrets that her Alex is notstrong enough to defend his country and his rights. 

_July 22. _--What a day! I feel like one who has been out in a high wind, and cannot get my breath. The newsboys are still shouting with theirextras, "Battle of Bull's Run! List of the killed! Battle of Manassas!List of the wounded!" Tender-hearted Mrs. F. Was sobbing so she couldnot serve the tea; but nobody cared for tea. "O G. !" she said, "threethousand of our own, dear Southern boys are lying out there. " "My dearFannie, " spoke Mr. F. , "they are heroes now. They died in a gloriouscause, and it is not in vain. This will end it. The sacrifice had to bemade, but those killed have gained immortal names. " Then Rob rushed inwith a new extra, reading of the spoils captured, and grief wasforgotten. Words cannot paint the excitement. Rob capered about andcheered; Edith danced around ringing the dinner-bell and shouting, "Victory!" Mrs. F. Waved a small Confederate flag, while she wiped hereyes, and Mr. D. Hastened to the piano and in his most brilliant stylestruck up "Dixie, " followed by "My Maryland" and the "Bonnie Blue Flag. "

"Do not look so gloomy, G. , " whispered Mr. S. "You should be happyto-night; for, as Mr. F. Says, now we shall have peace. "

"And is that the way you think of the men of your own blood and race?" Ireplied. But an utter scorn came over me and choked me, and I walked outof the room. What proof is there in this dark hour that they are notright? Only the emphatic answer of my own soul. To-morrow I will pack mytrunk and accept the invitation to visit at Uncle Ralph's country house. 

_Sept. 25. _--When I opened the door of Mrs. F. 's room on my return, therattle of two sewing-machines and a blaze of color met me. 

"Ah, G. , you are just in time to help us; these are coats for JeffThompson's men. All the cloth in the city is exhausted; theseflannel-lined oil-cloth table-covers are all we could obtain to makeovercoats for Thompson's poor boys. They will be very warm andserviceable. "

"Serviceable--yes! The Federal army will fly when they see those coats!I only wish I could be with the regiment when these are shared around. "Yet I helped make them. 

Seriously, I wonder if any soldiers will ever wear these remarkablecoats--the most bewildering combination of brilliant, intense reds, greens, yellows, and blues in big flowers meandering over as vividgrounds; and as no table-cover was large enough to make a coat, thesleeves of each were of a different color and pattern. However, thecoats were duly finished. Then we set to work on gray pantaloons, and Ihave just carried a bundle to an ardent young lady who wishes to assist. A slight gloom is settling down, and the inmates here are not quite socheerfully confident as in July. 

IV

A BELEAGUERED CITY

_Oct. 22. _--When I came to breakfast this morning Rob was capering overanother victory--Ball's Bluff. He would read me, "We pitched the Yankeesover the bluff, " and ask me in the next breath to go to the theaterthis evening. I turned on the poor fellow. "Don't tell me about yourvictories. You vowed by all your idols that the blockade would be raisedby October 1, and I notice the ships are still serenely anchored belowthe city. "

"G. , you are just as pertinacious yourself in championing your opinions. What sustains you when nobody agrees with you?"

_Oct. 28. _--When I dropped in at Uncle Ralph's last evening to welcomethem back, the whole family were busy at a great center-table copyingsequestration acts for the Confederate Government. The property of allNortherners and Unionists is to be sequestrated, and Uncle Ralph canhardly get the work done fast enough. My aunt apologized for the roomslooking chilly; she feared to put the carpets down, as the city might betaken and burned by the Federals. "We are living as much packed up aspossible. A signal has been agreed upon, and the instant the armyapproaches we shall be off to the country again. "

Great preparations are being made for defense. At several other placeswhere I called the women were almost hysterical. They seemed to lookforward to being blown up with shot and shell, finished with cold steel, or whisked off to some Northern prison. When I got home Edith and Mr. D. Had just returned also. 

"Alex, " said Edith, "I was up at your orange-lots to-day, and the souroranges are dropping to the ground, while they cannot get lemons for oursick soldiers. "

"That's my kind, considerate wife, " replied Mr. D. 

"Why didn't I think of that before? Jim shall fill some barrelsto-morrow and take them to the hospitals as a present from you. "

_Nov. 10. _--Surely this year will ever be memorable to me for itsperfection of natural beauty. Never was sunshine such pure gold, ormoonlight such transparent silver. The beautiful custom prevalent hereof decking the graves with flowers on All Saints' day was wellfulfilled, so profuse and rich were the blossoms. On All-hallow eve Mrs. S. And myself visited a large cemetery. The chrysanthemums lay likegreat masses of snow and flame and gold in every garden we passed, andwere piled on every costly tomb and lowly grave. The battle of Manassasrobed many of our women in mourning, and some of those who had no gravesto deck were weeping silently as they walked through the scentedavenues. 

A few days ago Mrs. E. Arrived here. She is a widow, of Natchez, afriend of Mrs. F. 's, and is traveling home with the dead body of hereldest son, killed at Manassas. She stopped two days waiting for a boat, and begged me to share her room and read her to sleep, saying shecouldn't be alone since he was killed; she feared her mind would giveway. So I read all the comforting chapters to be found till she droppedinto forgetfulness, but the recollection of those weeping mothers in thecemetery banished sleep for me. 

_Nov. 26. _--The lingering summer is passing into those misty autumn daysI love so well, when there is gold and fire above and around us. But theglory of the natural and the gloom of the moral world agree not welltogether. This morning Mrs. F. Came to my room in dire distress. "Yousee, " she said, "cold weather is coming on fast, and our poor fellowsare lying out at night with nothing to cover them. There is a wail forblankets, but there is not a blanket in town. I have gathered up all thespare bed-clothing, and now want every available rug or table-cover inthe house. Can't I have yours, G. ? We must make these small sacrificesof comfort and elegance, you know, to secure independence and freedom. "

"Very well, " I said, denuding the table. "This may do for a drummerboy. "

_Dec. 26, 1861. _--The foul weather cleared off bright and cool in timefor Christmas. There is a midwinter lull in the movement of troops. Inthe evening we went to the grand bazaar in the St. Louis Hotel, got upto clothe the soldiers. This bazaar has furnished the gayest, mostfashionable war-work yet, and has kept social circles in a flutter ofpleasant, heroic excitement all through December. Everything beautifulor rare garnered in the homes of the rich was given for exhibition, andin some cases for raffle and sale. There were many fine paintings, statues, bronzes, engravings, gems, laces--in fact, heirlooms andbric-à-brac of all sorts. There were many lovely creole girls present, in exquisite toilets, passing to and fro through the decorated rooms, listening to the band clash out the Anvil Chorus. 

_Jan. 2, 1862. _--I am glad enough to bid '61 good-by. Most miserableyear of my life! What ages of thought and experience have I not lived init!

The city authorities have been searching houses for firearms. It is agood way to get more guns, and the homes of those men suspected ofbeing Unionists were searched first. Of course they went to Dr. B. 's. Hemet them with his own delightful courtesy. "Wish to search for arms?Certainly, gentlemen. " He conducted them all through the house withsmiling readiness, and after what seemed a very thorough search bowedthem politely out. His gun was all the time safely reposing between thecanvas folds of a cot-bed which leaned folded up together against thewall, in the very room where they had ransacked the closets. Queerly, the rebel families have been the ones most anxious to conceal allweapons. They have dug graves quietly at night in the back yards, andcarefully wrapping the weapons, buried them out of sight. Every manseems to think he will have some private fighting to do to protect hisfamily. 

V

MARRIED

_Friday, Jan. 24, 1862. _ (_On Steamboat W. , Mississippi River. _)--With achanged name I open you once more, my journal. It was a sad time to wed, when one knew not how long the expected conscription would spare thebridegroom. The women-folk knew how to sympathize with a girl expectedto prepare for her wedding in three days, in a blockaded city, and aboutto go far from any base of supplies. They all rallied round me withtokens of love and consideration, and sewed, shopped, mended, andpacked, as if sewing soldier clothes. And they decked the whole houseand the church with flowers. Music breathed, wine sparkled, friends cameand went. It seemed a dream, and comes up now again out of the afternoonsunshine where I sit on deck. The steamboat slowly plows its way throughlumps of floating ice, --a novel sight to me, --and I look forwardwondering whether the new people I shall meet will be as fierce aboutthe war as those in New Orleans. That past is to be all forgotten andforgiven; I understood thus the kindly acts that sought to brighten thethreshold of a new life. 

_Feb. 15. _ (_Village of X. _)--We reached Arkansas Landing at nightfall. Mr. Y. , the planter who owns the landing, took us right up to hisresidence. He ushered me into a large room where a couple of candlesgave a dim light, and close to them, and sewing as if on a race withTime, sat Mrs. Y. And a little negro girl, who was so black and sat sostiff and straight she looked like an ebony image. This was a largeplantation; the Y. 's knew H. Very well, and were very kind and cordialin their welcome and congratulations. Mrs. Y. Apologized for continuingher work; the war had pushed them this year in getting the negroesclothed, and she had to sew by dim candles, as they could obtain no moreoil. She asked if there were any new fashions in New Orleans. 

Next morning we drove over to our home in this village. It is thecounty-seat, and was, till now, a good place for the practice of H. 'sprofession. It lies on the edge of a lovely lake. The adjacent planterscount their slaves by the hundreds. Some of them live with a good dealof magnificence, using service of plate, having smoking-rooms for thegentlemen built off the house, and entertaining with great hospitality. The Baptists, Episcopalians, and Methodists hold services on alternateSundays in the court-house. All the planters and many others near thelake shore keep a boat at their landing, and a raft for crossingvehicles and horses. It seemed very piquant at first, this taking ourboat to go visiting, and on moonlight nights it was charming. The woodsaround are lovelier than those in Louisiana, though one misses themoaning of the pines. There is fine fishing and hunting, but thesecotton estates are not so pleasant to visit as sugar plantations. 

But nothing else has been so delightful as, one morning, my first sightof snow and a wonderful new, white world. 

_Feb. 27. _--The people here have hardly felt the war yet. There are buttwo classes. The planters and the professional men form one; the verypoor villagers the other. There is no middle class. Ducks andpartridges, squirrels and fish, are to be had. H. Has bought me a nicepony, and cantering along the shore of the lake in the sunset is apanacea for mental worry. 

VI

HOW IT WAS IN ARKANSAS

_March 11, 1862. _--The serpent has entered our Eden. The rancor andexcitement of New Orleans have invaded this place. If an incautious wordbetrays any want of sympathy with popular plans, one is "traitorous, ""ungrateful, " "crazy. " If one remains silent and controlled, then one is"phlegmatic, " "cool-blooded, " "unpatriotic. " Cool-blooded! Heavens! ifthey only knew. It is very painful to see lovable and intelligent womenrave till the blood mounts to face and brain. The immediate cause ofthis access of war fever has been the battle of Pea Ridge. They scoutthe idea that Price and Van Dorn have been completely worsted. Those whobrought the news were speedily told what they ought to say. "No, it isonly a serious check; they must have more men sent forward at once. Thiscountry must do its duty. " So the women say another company _must_ beraised. 

We were guests at a dinner-party yesterday. Mrs. A. Was very talkative. "Now, ladies, you must all join in with a vim and help equip anothercompany. "

"Mrs. L. , " she said, turning to me, "are you not going to send yourhusband? Now use a young bride's influence and persuade him; he would beelected one of the officers. " "Mrs. A. , " I replied, longing to spring upand throttle her, "the Bible says, 'When a man hath married a new wife, he shall not go to war for one year, but remain at home and cheer up hiswife. '"

"Well, H. , " I questioned, as we walked home after crossing the lake, "can you stand the pressure, or shall you be forced into volunteering?""Indeed, " he replied, "I will not be bullied into enlisting by women, orby men. I will sooner take my chance of conscription and feel honestabout it. You know my attachments, my interests are here; these are mypeople. I could never fight against them; but my judgment disapprovestheir course, and the result will inevitably be against us. "

This morning the only Irishman left in the village presented himself toH. He has been our wood-sawyer, gardener, and factotum, but havingjoined the new company, his time recently has been taken up withdrilling. H. And Mr. R. Feel that an extensive vegetable garden must beprepared while he is here to assist, or we shall be short of food, andthey sent for him yesterday. 

"So, Mike, you are really going to be a soldier?"

"Yes, sor; but faith, Mr. L. , I don't see the use of me going to shtop abullet when sure an' I'm willin' for it to go where it plazes. "

_March 18, 1862. _--There has been unusual gaiety in this little villagethe past few days. The ladies from the surrounding plantations went towork to get up a festival to equip the new company. As Annie and myselfare both brides recently from the city, requisition was made upon us forengravings, costumes, music, garlands, and so forth. Annie's heart wasin the work; not so with me. Nevertheless, my pretty things werecaptured, and shone with just as good a grace last evening as ifwillingly lent. The ball was a merry one. One of the songs sung was"Nellie Gray, " in which the most distressing feature of slavery isbewailed so pitifully. To sing this at a festival for raising money toclothe soldiers fighting to perpetuate that very thing was strange. 

_March 20, 1862. _--A man professing to act by General Hindman's ordersis going through the country impressing horses and mules. The overseerof a certain estate came to inquire of H. If he had not a legal rightto protect the property from seizure. Mr. L. Said yes, unless the agentcould show some better credentials than his bare word. This answer soonspread about, and the overseer returned to report that it excited greatindignation, especially among the company of new volunteers. H. Waspronounced a traitor, and they declared that no one so untrue to theConfederacy should live there. When H. Related the circumstance atdinner, his partner, Mr. R. , became very angry, being ignorant of H. 'sreal opinions. He jumped up in a rage and marched away to the villagethoroughfare. There he met a batch of the volunteers, and said, "We knowwhat you have said of us, and I have come to tell you that you areliars, and you know where to find us. "

Of course I expected a difficulty; but the evening passed, and weretired undisturbed. Not long afterward a series of indescribable soundsbroke the stillness of the night, and the tramp of feet was heardoutside the house. Mr. R. Called out, "It's a serenade, H. Get up andbring out all the wine you have. " Annie and I peeped through the parlorwindow, and lo! it was the company of volunteers and a diabolical bandcomposed of bones and broken-winded brass instruments. They piped andclattered and whined for some time, and then swarmed in, while we ladiesretreated and listened to the clink of glasses. 

_March 22. _--H. , Mr. R. , and Mike have been very busy the last few daysgetting the acre of kitchen-garden plowed and planted. The stay-law hasstopped all legal business, and they have welcomed this work. But to-daya thunderbolt fell in our household. Mr. R. Came in and announced thathe had agreed to join the company of volunteers. Annie's Confederateprinciples would not permit her to make much resistance, and she hasbeen sewing and mending as fast as possible to get his clothes ready, stopping now and then to wipe her eyes. Poor Annie! She and Max havebeen married only a few months longer than we have; but a noble sense ofduty animates and sustains her. 

VII

THE FIGHT FOR FOOD AND CLOTHING

_April 1. _--The last ten days have brought changes in the house. Max R. Left with the company to be mustered in, leaving with us his weepingAnnie. Hardly were her spirits somewhat composed when her brotherarrived from Natchez to take her home. This morning he, Annie, andReeney, the black handmaiden, posted off. Out of seven of us only H. , myself, and Aunt Judy are left. The absence of Reeney will be not theleast noted. She was as precious an imp as any Topsy ever was. Hertricks were endless and her innocence of them amazing. When sent out tobring in eggs she would take them from nests where hens were hatching, and embryo chickens would be served up at breakfast, while Reeney stoodby grinning to see them opened; but when accused she was imperturbable. "Laws, Mis' L. , I nebber done bin nigh dem hens. Mis' Annie, you can gocount dem dere eggs. " That when counted they were found minus thenumber she had brought had no effect on her stolid denial. H. Hasplenty to do finishing the garden all by himself, but the time ratherdrags for me. 

_April 13, 1862. _--This morning I was sewing up a rent in H. 's gardencoat, when Aunt Judy rushed in. 

"Laws! Mis' L. , here's Mr. Max and Mis' Annie done come back!" A buggywas coming up with Max, Annie, and Reeney. 

"Well, is the war over?" I asked. 

"Oh, I got sick!" replied our returned soldier, getting slowly out ofthe buggy. 

He was very thin and pale, and explained that he took a severe coldalmost at once, had a mild attack of pneumonia, and the surgeon got himhis discharge as unfit for service. He succeeded in reaching Annie, anda few days of good care made him strong enough to travel back home. 

"I suppose, H. , you've heard that Island No. 10 is gone?"

Yes, we had heard that much, but Max had the particulars, and anexciting talk followed. At night H. Said to me, "G. , New Orleans will bethe next to go, you'll see, and I want to get there first; thisstagnation here will kill me. "

_April 28. _--This evening has been very lovely, but full of a saddisappointment. H. Invited me to drive. As we turned homeward he said:

"Well, my arrangements are completed. You can begin to pack your trunksto-morrow, and I shall have a talk with Max. "

Mr. R. And Annie were sitting on the gallery as I ran up the steps. 

"Heard the news?" they cried. 

"No. What news?"

"New Orleans is taken! All the boats have been run up the river to savethem. No more mails. "

How little they knew what plans of ours this dashed away. But ourdisappointment is truly an infinitesimal drop in the great waves oftriumph and despair surging to-night in thousands of hearts. 

_April 30. _--The last two weeks have glided quietly away withoutincident except the arrival of new neighbors--Dr. Y. , his wife, twochildren, and servants. That a professional man prospering in Vicksburgshould come now to settle in this retired place looks queer. Max said:

"H. , that man has come here to hide from the conscript officers. He hasbrought no end of provisions, and is here for the war. He has chosenwell, for this county is so cleaned of men it won't pay to send theconscript officers here. "

Our stores are diminishing and cannot be replenished from without;ingenuity and labor must evoke them. We have a fine garden in growth, plenty of chickens, and hives of bees to furnish honey in lieu of sugar. A good deal of salt meat has been stored in the smoke-house, and, withfish from the lake, we expect to keep the wolf from the door. The seasonfor game is about over, but an occasional squirrel or duck comes to thelarder, though the question of ammunition has to be considered. What wehave may be all we can have, if the war lasts five years longer; andthey say they are prepared to hold out till the crack of doom. Food, however, is not the only want. I never realized before the varied needsof civilization. Every day something is _out_. Last week but two barsof soap remained, so we began to save bones and ashes. Annie said: "Nowif we only had some china-berry trees here, we shouldn't need any othergrease. They are making splendid soap at Vicksburg with china-balls. They just put the berries into the lye and it eats them right up andmakes a fine soap. " I did long for some china-berries to make thisexperiment. H. Had laid in what seemed a good supply of kerosene, but itis nearly gone, and we are down to two candles kept for an emergency. Annie brought a receipt from Natchez for making candles of rosin andwax, and with great forethought brought also the wick and rosin. Soyesterday we tried making candles. We had no molds, but Annie said thelatest style in Natchez was to make a waxen rope by dipping, then wrapit round a corn-cob. But H. Cut smooth blocks of wood about four inchessquare, into which he set a polished cylinder about four inches high. The waxen ropes were coiled round the cylinder like a serpent, with thehead raised about two inches; as the light burned down to the cylinder, more of the rope was unwound. To-day the vinegar was found to be allgone, and we have started to make some. For tyros we succeed prettywell. 

VIII

DROWNED OUT AND STARVED OUT

_May 9. _--A great misfortune has come upon us all. For several daysevery one has been uneasy about the unusual rise of the Mississippi andabout a rumor that the Federal forces had cut levees above to swamp thecountry. There is a slight levee back of the village, and H. Wentyesterday to examine it. It looked strong, and we hoped for the best. About dawn this morning a strange gurgle woke me. It had a pleasing, lulling effect. I could not fully rouse at first, but curiosityconquered at last, and I called H. 

"Listen to that running water. What is it?"

He sprung up, listened a second, and shouted: "Max, get up! The water ison us!" They both rushed off to the lake for the skiff. The levee hadnot broken. The water was running clean over it and through the gardenfence so rapidly that by the time I dressed and got outside Max waspaddling the pirogue they had brought in among the pea-vines, gatheringall the ripe peas left above the water. We had enjoyed one mess, and hevowed we should have another. 

H. Was busy nailing a raft together while he had a dry place to standon. Annie and I, with Reeney, had to secure the chickens, and the backpiazza was given up to them. By the time a hasty breakfast was eaten thewater was in the kitchen. The stove and everything there had to be putup in the dining-room. Aunt Judy and Reeney had likewise to move intothe house, their floor also being covered with water. The raft had to befloated to the storehouse and a platform built, on which everything waselevated. At evening we looked around and counted the cost. The gardenwas utterly gone. Last evening we had walked round the strawberry-bedsthat fringed the whole acre and tasted a few just ripe. The hives wereswamped. Many of the chickens were drowned. Sancho had been sent tohigh ground, where he could get grass. In the village everything greenwas swept away. Yet we were better off than many others; for this house, being raised, we have escaped the water indoors. It just laves the edgeof the galleries. 

_May 26. _--During the past week we have lived somewhat like Venetians, with a boat at the front steps and a raft at the back. Sunday H. And Itook skiff to church. The clergyman, who is also tutor at a planter'sacross the lake, preached to the few who had arrived in skiffs. We shallnot try it again, it is so troublesome getting in and out at thecourt-house steps. The imprisonment is hard to endure. It threatened tomake me really ill, so every evening H. Lays a thick wrap in thepirogue, I sit on it, and we row off to the ridge of dry land runningalong the lake-shore and branching off to a strip of wood also out ofwater. Here we disembark and march up and down till dusk. A great dealof the wood got wet and had to be laid out to dry on the galleries, withclothing, and everything that must be dried. One's own trials areintensified by the worse suffering around that we can do nothing torelieve. 

Max has a puppy named after General Price. The gentlemen had both goneup-town yesterday in the skiff when Annie and I heard little Price'sdespairing cries from under the house, and we got on the raft to findand save him. We wore light morning dresses and slippers, for shoes arebecoming precious. Annie donned a Shaker and I a broad hat. We got theraft pushed out to the center of the grounds opposite the house, andcould see Price clinging to a post; the next move must be to navigatethe raft up to the side of the house and reach for Price. It soundseasy; but poke around with our poles as wildly or as scientifically aswe might, the raft would not budge. The noonday sun was blazing rightoverhead, and the muddy water running all over slippered feet and daintydresses. How long we stayed praying for rescue, yet wincing already atthe laugh that would come with it, I shall never know. It seemed like aday before the welcome boat and the "Ha, ha!" of H. And Max were heard. The confinement tells severely on all the animal life about us. Half thechickens are dead and the other half sick. 

The days drag slowly. We have to depend mainly on books to relieve thetedium, for we have no piano; none of us like cards; we are very poorchess-players, and the chess-set is incomplete. When we gather round theone lamp--we dare not light any more--each one exchanges the gems ofthought or mirthful ideas he finds. Frequently the gnats and themosquitos are so bad we cannot read at all. This evening, till a strongbreeze blew them away, they were intolerable. Aunt Judy goes about in adignified silence, too full for words, only asking two or three times, "W'at I done tole you fum de fust?" The food is a trial. This eveningthe snaky candles lighted the glass and silver on the supper-table witha pale gleam, and disclosed a frugal supper indeed--tea without milk(for all the cows are gone), honey, and bread. A faint ray twinkled onthe water swishing against the house and stretching away into the darkwoods. It looked like civilization and barbarism met together. Just aswe sat down to it, some one passing in a boat shouted that Confederatesand Federals were fighting at Vicksburg. 

_Monday, June 2. _--On last Friday morning, just three weeks from the daythe water rose, signs of its falling began. Yesterday the groundappeared, and a hard rain coming down at the same time washed off muchof the unwholesome debris. To-day is fine, and we went out without aboat for a long walk. 

_June 13. _--Since the water ran off, we have, of course, been attackedby swamp fever. H. Succumbed first, then Annie, Max next, and then I. Luckily, the new Dr. Y. Had brought quinine with him, and we took heroicdoses. Such fever never burned in my veins before or sapped strength sorapidly, though probably the want of good food was a factor. The two orthree other professional men have left. Dr. Y. Alone remains. The roadsnow being dry enough, H. And Max started on horseback, in differentdirections, to make an exhaustive search for food supplies. H. Got backthis evening with no supplies. 

_June 15. _--Max got back to-day. He started right off again to cross thelake and interview the planters on that side, for they had not sufferedfrom overflow. 

_June 16. _--Max got back this morning. H. And he were in the parlortalking and examining maps together till dinner-time. When that was overthey laid the matter before us. To buy provisions had proved impossible. The planters across the lake had decided to issue rations of corn-mealand pease to the villagers whose men had all gone to war, but theyutterly refused to sell anything. "They told me, " said Max, "'We willnot see your family starve, Mr. R. ; but with such numbers of slaves andthe village poor to feed, we can spare nothing for sale. '" "Well, ofcourse, " said H. , "we do not purpose to stay here and live on charityrations. We must leave the place at all hazards. We have studied outevery route and made inquiries everywhere we went. We shall have to godown the Mississippi in an open boat as far as Fetler's Landing (on theeastern bank). There we can cross by land and put the boat into Steele'sBayou, pass thence to the Yazoo River, from there to Chickasaw Bayou, into McNutt's Lake, and land near my uncle's in Warren County. "

_June 20. _--As soon as our intended departure was announced, we werebesieged by requests for all sorts of things wanted in everyfamily--pins, matches, gunpowder, and ink. One of the last cases H. AndMax had before the stay-law stopped legal business was the settlement ofan estate that included a country store. The heirs had paid in chattelsof the store. These had remained packed in the office. The main contentsof the cases were hardware; but we found treasure indeed--a keg ofpowder, a case of matches, a paper of pins, a bottle of ink. Red ink isnow made out of pokeberries. Pins are made by capping thorns withsealing-wax, or using them as nature made them. These were articlesmoney could not get for us. We would give our friends a few matches tosave for the hour of tribulation. The paper of pins we divided evenly, and filled a bank-box each with the matches. H. Filled a tight tin caseapiece with powder for Max and himself and sold the rest, as we couldnot carry any more on such a trip. Those who did not hear of this intime offered fabulous prices afterward for a single pound. But moneyhas not its old attractions. Our preparations were delayed by Aunt Judyfalling sick of swamp fever. 

_Friday, June 27. _--As soon as the cook was up again, we resumedpreparations. We put all the clothing in order, and had it nicely doneup with the last of the soap and starch. "I wonder, " said Annie, "when Ishall ever have nicely starched clothes after these? They had no starchin Natchez or Vicksburg when I was there. " We are now furbishing updresses suitable for such rough summer travel. While we sat at workyesterday, the quiet of the clear, calm noon was broken by a low, continuous roar like distant thunder. To-day we are told it was probablycannon at Vicksburg. This is a great distance, I think, to have heardit--over a hundred miles. 

H. And Max have bought a large yawl and are busy on the lake-bankrepairing it and fitting it with lockers. Aunt Judy's master has beennotified when to send for her; a home for the cat Jeff has been engaged;Price is dead, and Sancho sold. Nearly all the furniture is disposed of, except things valued from association, which will be packed in H. 'soffice and left with some one likely to stay through the war. It ishardest to leave the books. 

_Tuesday, July 8. _--We start to-morrow. Packing the trunks was aproblem. Annie and I are allowed one large trunk apiece, the gentlemen asmaller one each, and we a light carpet-sack apiece for toilet articles. I arrived with six trunks and leave with one! We went over everythingcarefully twice, rejecting, trying to off the bonds of custom and getdown to primitive needs. At last we made a judicious selection. Everything old or worn was left; everything merely ornamental, exceptgood lace, which was light. Gossamer evening dresses were all left. Icalculated on taking two or three books that would bear the most readingif we were again shut up where none could be had, and so, of course, took Shakspere first. Here I was interrupted to go and pay a farewellvisit, and when we returned Max had packed and nailed the cases of booksto be left. Chance thus limited my choice to those that happened to bein my room--"Paradise Lost, " the "Arabian Nights, " a volume ofMacaulay's History I was reading, and my prayer-book. To-day theprovisions for the trip were cooked: the last of the flour was made intolarge loaves of bread; a ham and several dozen eggs were boiled; the fewchickens that have survived the overflow were fried; the last of thecoffee was parched and ground; and the modicum of the tea was wellcorked up. Our friends across the lake added a jar of butter and two ofpreserves. H. Rode off to X. After dinner to conclude some businessthere, and I sat down before a table to tie bundles of things to beleft. The sunset glowed and faded, and the quiet evening came on calmand starry. I sat by the window till evening deepened into night, and asthe moon rose I still looked a reluctant farewell to the lovely lake andthe grand woods, till the sound of H. 's horse at the gate broke thespell. 

IX

HOMELESS AND SHELTERLESS

_Thursday, July 10. _ (---- _Plantation. _)--Yesterday about four o'clockwe walked to the lake and embarked. Provisions and utensils were packedin the lockers, and a large trunk was stowed at each end. The blanketsand cushions were placed against one of them, and Annie and I sat onthem Turkish fashion. Near the center the two smaller trunks made aplace for Reeney. Max and H. Were to take turns at the rudder and oars. The last word was a fervent God-speed from Mr. E. , who is left in chargeof all our affairs. We believe him to be a Union man, but have neverspoken of it to him. We were gloomy enough crossing the lake, for it wasevident the heavily laden boat would be difficult to manage. Last nightwe stayed at this plantation, and from the window of my room I see themen unloading the boat to place it on the cart, which a team of oxenwill haul to the river. These hospitable people are kindness itself, till you mention the war. 

_Saturday, July 12. _ (_Under a cotton-shed on the bank of theMississippi River. _)--Thursday was a lovely day, and the sight of thebroad river exhilarating. The negroes launched and reloaded the boat, and when we had paid them and spoken good-by to them we felt we werereally off. Every one had said that if we kept in the current the boatwould almost go of itself, but in fact the current seemed to throw itabout, and hard pulling was necessary. The heat of the sun was verysevere, and it proved impossible to use an umbrella or any kind ofshade, as it made steering more difficult. Snags and floating timberswere very troublesome. Twice we hurried up to the bank out of the way ofpassing gunboats, but they took no notice of us. When we got thirsty, itwas found that Max had set the jug of water in the shade of a tree andleft it there. We must dip up the river water or go without. When it gottoo dark to travel safely we disembarked. Reeney gathered wood, made afire and some tea, and we had a good supper. We then divided, H. And Iremaining to watch the boat, Max and Annie on shore. She hung up amosquito-bar to the trees and went to bed comfortably. In the boat themosquitos were horrible, but I fell asleep and slept till voices on thebank woke me. Annie was wandering disconsolate round her bed, and when Iasked the trouble, said, "Oh, I can't sleep there! I found a toad and alizard in the bed. " When dropping off again, H. Woke me to say he wasvery sick; he thought it was from drinking the river water. Withdifficulty I got a trunk opened to find some medicine. While doing so agunboat loomed up vast and gloomy, and we gave each other a good fright. Our voices doubtless reached her, for instantly every one of her lightsdisappeared and she ran for a few minutes along the opposite bank. Wemomently expected a shell as a feeler. 

At dawn next morning we made coffee and a hasty breakfast, fixed up aswell as we could in our sylvan dressing-rooms, and pushed on; for it issettled that traveling between eleven and two will have to be given upunless we want to be roasted alive. H. Grew worse. He suffered terribly, and the rest of us as much to see him pulling in such a state ofexhaustion. Max would not trust either of us to steer. About eleven wereached the landing of a plantation. Max walked up to the house andreturned with the owner, an old gentleman living alone with his slaves. The housekeeper, a young colored girl, could not be surpassed in hergraceful efforts to make us comfortable and anticipate every want. I wasso anxious about H. That I remember nothing except that the colddrinking-water taken from a cistern beneath the building, into whichonly the winter rains were allowed to fall, was like an elixir. Theyoffered luscious peaches that, with such water, were nectar and ambrosiato our parched lips. At night the housekeeper said she was sorry theyhad no mosquito-bars ready, and hoped the mosquitos would not be thick, but they came out in legions. I knew that on sleep that night dependedrecovery or illness for H. , and all possibility of proceeding next day. So I sat up fanning away mosquitos that he might sleep, toppling overnow and then on the pillows till roused by his stirring. I contrived tokeep this up till, as the chill before dawn came, they abated and I gota short sleep. Then, with the aid of cold water, a fresh toilet, and agood breakfast, I braced up for another day's baking in the boat. 

If I had been well and strong as usual, the discomforts of such ajourney would not have seemed so much to me; but I was still weak fromthe effects of the fever, and annoyed by a worrying toothache whichthere had been no dentist to rid me of in our village. 

Having paid and dismissed the boat's watchman, we started and traveledtill eleven to-day, when we stopped at this cotton-shed. When our daiswas spread and lunch laid out in the cool breeze, it seemed a blessedspot. A good many negroes came offering chickens and milk in exchangefor tobacco, which we had not. We bought some milk with money. 

A United States transport just now steamed by, and the men on the guardscheered and waved to us. We all replied but Annie. Even Max wassurprised into an answering cheer, and I waved my handkerchief with avery full heart as the dear old flag we had not seen for so long floatedby; but Annie turned her back. 

_Sunday, July 13. _ (_Under a tree on the east bank of theMississippi_)--Late on Saturday evening we reached a plantation whoseowner invited us to spend the night at his house. What a delightfulthing is courtesy! The first tone of our host's welcome indicated thetrue gentleman. We never leave the oars with the watchman; Max takesthese, Annie and I each take a band-box, H. Takes my carpet-sack, andReeney brings up the rear with Annie's. It is a funny procession. Mr. B. 's family were absent, and as we sat on the gallery talking, it neededonly a few minutes to show this was a "Union man. " His home was elegantand tasteful, but even here there was neither tea nor coffee. 

About eleven we stopped here in this shady place. While eating lunch thenegroes again came imploring for tobacco. Soon an invitation came fromthe house for us to come and rest. We gratefully accepted, but foundtheir idea of rest for warm, tired travelers was to sit in the parlor onstiff chairs while the whole family trooped in, cool and clean in freshtoilets, to stare and question. We soon returned to the trees; however, they kindly offered corn-meal pound-cake and beer, which were excellent. 

Eight gunboats and one transport have passed us. Getting out of theirway has been troublesome. Our gentlemen's hands are badly blistered. 

_Tuesday, July 15. _--Sunday night about ten we reached the place where, according to our map, Steele's Bayou comes nearest to the Mississippi, and where the landing should be; but when we climbed the steep bankthere was no sign of habitation. Max walked off into the woods on asearch, and was gone so long we feared he had lost his way. He couldfind no road. H. Suggested shouting, and both began. At last a distanthalloo replied, and by cries the answerer was guided to us. A negro cameforward and said that was the right place, his master kept the landing, and he would watch the boat for five dollars. He showed the road, andsaid his master's house was one mile off and another house two miles. Wemistook, and went to the one two miles off. At one o'clock we reachedMr. Fetler's, who was pleasant, and said we should have the best he had. The bed into whose grateful softness I sank was piled with mattresses towithin two or three feet of the ceiling; and, with no step-ladder, getting in and out was a problem. This morning we noticed the high-watermark, four feet above the lower floor. Mrs. Fetler said they had livedup-stairs several weeks. 

X

FRIGHTS AND PERILS IN STEELE'S BAYOU

_Wednesday, July 16. _ (_Under a tree on the bank of Steele'sBayou. _)--Early this morning our boat was taken out of the Mississippiand put on Mr. Fetler's ox-cart. After breakfast we followed on foot. The walk in the woods was so delightful that all were disappointed whena silvery gleam through the trees showed the bayou sweeping along, fullto the banks, with dense forest trees almost meeting over it. The boatwas launched, calked, and reloaded, and we were off again. Toward noonthe sound of distant cannon began to echo around, probably fromVicksburg again. About the same time we began to encounter rafts. To getaround them required us to push through brush so thick that we had tolie down in the boat. The banks were steep and the land on each side abog. About one o'clock we reached this clear space with dry shelvingbanks, and disembarked to eat lunch. To our surprise a neatly dressedwoman came tripping down the declivity, bringing a basket. She said shelived above and had seen our boat. Her husband was in the army, and wewere the first white people she had talked to for a long while. Sheoffered some corn-meal pound-cake and beer, and as she climbed back toldus to "look out for the rapids. " H. Is putting the boat in order for ourstart, and says she is waving good-by from the bluff above. 

_Thursday, July 17. _ (_On a raft in Steele's Bayou. _)--Yesterday we wenton nicely awhile, and at afternoon came to a strange region of rafts, extending about three miles, on which persons were living. Many salutedus, saying they had run away from Vicksburg at the first attempt of thefleet to shell it. On one of these rafts, about twelve feet square, [1]bagging had been hung up to form three sides of a tent. A bed was in onecorner, and on a low chair, with her provisions in jars and boxesgrouped round her, sat an old woman feeding a lot of chickens. 

[Footnote 1: More likely twelve yards. --G. W. C. ]

Having moonlight, we had intended to travel till late. But about teno'clock, the boat beginning to go with great speed, H. , who wassteering, called to Max:

"Don't row so fast; we may run against something. "

"I'm hardly pulling at all. "

"Then we're in what she called the rapids!"

The stream seemed indeed to slope downward, and in a minute a dark linewas visible ahead. Max tried to turn, but could not, and in a secondmore we dashed against this immense raft, only saved from breaking up bythe men's quickness. We got out upon it and ate supper. Then, as theboat was leaking and the current swinging it against the raft, H. AndMax thought it safer to watch all night, but told us to go to sleep. Itwas a strange spot to sleep in--a raft in the middle of a boilingstream, with a wilderness stretching on either side. The moon madeghostly shadows, and showed H. , sitting still as a ghost, in the sternof the boat, while mingled with the gurgle of the water round the raftbeneath was the boom of cannon in the air, solemnly breaking the silenceof night. It drizzled now and then, and the mosquitos swarmed over us. My fan and umbrella had been knocked overboard, so I had no weaponagainst them. Fatigue, however, overcomes everything, and I contrived tosleep. 

H. Roused us at dawn. Reeney found lightwood enough on the raft to makea good fire for coffee, which never tasted better. Then all handsassisted in unloading; a rope was fastened to the boat, Max got in, H. Held the rope on the raft, and, by much pulling and pushing, it wasforced through a narrow passage to the farther side. Here it had to becalked, and while that was being done we improvised a dressing-room inthe shadow of our big trunks. During the trip I had to keep the time, therefore properly to secure belt and watch was always an anxious partof my toilet. The boat is now repacked, and while Annie and Reeney arewashing cups I have scribbled, wishing much that mine were the hand ofan artist. 

_Friday morn, July 18. _ (_House of Colonel K. , on Yazoo River. _)--Afterleaving the raft yesterday all went well till noon, when we came to anarrow place where an immense tree lay clear across the stream. Itseemed the insurmountable obstacle at last. We sat despairing what todo, when a man appeared beside us in a pirogue. So sudden, so silent washis arrival that we were thrilled with surprise. He said if we had ahatchet he could help us. His fairy bark floated in among the brancheslike a bubble, and he soon chopped a path for us, and was delighted toget some matches in return. He said the cannon we heard yesterday werein an engagement with the ram _Arkansas_, which ran out of the Yazoothat morning. We did not stop for dinner to-day, but ate a hasty lunchin the boat, after which nothing but a small piece of bread was left. About two we reached the forks, one of which ran to the Yazoo, theother to the Old River. Max said the right fork was our road; H. Saidthe left, that there was an error in Max's map; but Max steered into theright fork. After pulling about three miles he admitted his mistake andturned back; but I shall never forget Old River. It was the vision of adrowned world, an illimitable waste of dead waters, stretching into agreat, silent, desolate forest. 

Just as we turned into the right way, down came the rain so hard andfast we had to stop on the bank. It defied trees or umbrellas, andnearly took away the breath. The boat began to fill, and all five of ushad to bail as fast as possible for the half-hour the sheet of water waspouring down. As it abated a cold breeze sprang up that, striking ourclothes, chilled us to the bone. All were shivering and blue--no, I wasgreen. Before leaving Mr. Fetler's Wednesday morning I had donned adark-green calico. I wiped my face with a handkerchief out of my pocket, and face and hands were all dyed a deep green. When Annie turned roundand looked at me she screamed, and I realized how I looked; but she wasnot much better, for of all dejected things wet feathers are the worst, and the plumes in her hat were painful. 

About five we reached Colonel K. 's house, right where Steele's Bayouempties into the Yazoo. We had both to be fairly dragged out of theboat, so cramped and weighted were we by wet skirts. The family wereabsent, and the house was headquarters for a squad of Confederatecavalry, which was also absent. The old colored housekeeper received uskindly, and lighted fires in our rooms to dry the clothing. My trunkhad got cracked on top, and all the clothing to be got at was wet. H. Had dropped his in the river while lifting it out, and his clothes werewet. A spoonful of brandy apiece was left in the little flask, and Ifelt that mine saved me from being ill. Warm blankets and the brandyrevived us, and by supper-time we got into some dry clothes. 

Just then the squad of cavalry returned; they were only a dozen, butthey made much uproar, being in great excitement. Some of them wereknown to Max and H. , who learned from them that a gunboat was coming toshell them out of this house. Then ensued a clatter such as twelve mensurely never made before--rattling about the halls and galleries inheavy boots and spurs, feeding horses, calling for supper, clankingswords, buckling and unbuckling belts and pistols. At last supper wasdespatched, and they mounted and were gone like the wind. We had a quietsupper and a good night's rest in spite of the expected shells, and didnot wake till ten to-day to realize we were not killed. About elevenbreakfast was furnished. Now we are waiting till the rest of our thingsare dried to start on our last day of travel by water. 

_Sunday, July 20. _--A little way down the Yazoo on Friday we ran intoMcNutt's Lake, thence into Chickasaw Bayou, and at dark landed at Mrs. C. 's farm, the nearest neighbors of H. 's uncle. The house was full ofConfederate sick, friends from Vicksburg, and while we ate supper allpresent poured out the story of the shelling and all that was to be doneat Vicksburg. Then our stuff was taken from the boat, and we finallyabandoned the stanch little craft that had carried us for over onehundred and twenty-five miles in a trip occupying nine days. The luggagein a wagon, and ourselves packed in a buggy, were driven for four orfive miles, over the roughest road I ever traveled, to the farm of Mr. B. , H. 's uncle, where we arrived at midnight and hastened to hide in bedthe utter exhaustion of mind and body. Yesterday we were too tired tothink, or to do anything but eat peaches. 

XI

WILD TIMES IN MISSISSIPPI

This morning there was a most painful scene. Annie's father came intoVicksburg, ten miles from here, and learned of our arrival from Mrs. C. 's messenger. He sent out a carriage to bring Annie and Max to townthat they might go home with him, and with it came a letter for me fromfriends on the Jackson Railroad, written many weeks before. They hadheard that our village home was under water, and invited us to visitthem. The letter had been sent to Annie's people to forward, and thushad reached us. This decided H. , as the place was near New Orleans, togo there and wait the chance of getting into that city. Max, when heheard this from H. , lost all self-control and cried like a baby. Hestalked about the garden in the most tragic manner, exclaiming:

"Oh! my soul's brother from youth up is a traitor! A traitor to hiscountry!"

Then H. Got angry and said, "Max, don't be a fool. "

"Who has done this?" bawled Max. "You felt with the South at first; whohas changed you?"

"Of course I feel _for_ the South now, and nobody has changed me but thelogic of events, though the twenty-negro law has intensified myopinions. I can't see why I, who have no slaves, must go to fight forthem, while every man who has twenty may stay at home. "

I also tried to reason with Max and pour oil on his wound. "Max, whatinterest has a man like you, without slaves, in a war for slavery? Evenif you had them, they would not be your best property. That lies in yourcountry and its resources. Nearly all the world has given up slavery;why can't the South do the same and end the struggle. It has shown youwhat the South needs, and if all went to work with united hands theSouth would soon be the greatest country on earth. You have no right tocall H. A traitor; it is we who are the true patriots and lovers of theSouth. "

This had to come, but it has upset us both. H. Is deeply attached toMax, and I can't bear to see a cloud between them. Max, with Annie andReeney, drove off an hour ago, Annie so glad at the prospect of againseeing her mother that nothing could cloud her day. And so the closecompanionship of six months, and of dangers, trials, and pleasuresshared together, is over. 

_Oak Ridge, July 26, Saturday. _--It was not till Wednesday that H. Couldget into Vicksburg, ten miles distant, for a passport, without which wecould not go on the cars. We started Thursday morning. I had to rideseven miles on a hard-trotting horse to the nearest station. The day wasburning at white heat. When the station was reached my hair was down, my hat on my neck, and my feelings were indescribable. 

On the train one seemed to be right in the stream of war, amongofficers, soldiers, sick men and cripples, adieus, tears, laughter, constant chatter, and, strangest of all, sentinels posted at the lockedcar doors demanding passports. There was no train south from Jacksonthat day, so we put up at the Bowman House. The excitement wasindescribable. All the world appeared to be traveling through Jackson. People were besieging the two hotels, offering enormous prices for theprivilege of sleeping anywhere under a roof. There were many refugeesfrom New Orleans, among them some acquaintances of mine. The peculiarstyles of [women's] dress necessitated by the exigencies of war gave thecrowd a very striking appearance. In single suits I saw sleeves of onecolor, the waist of another, the skirt of another; scarlet jackets andgray skirts; black waists and blue skirts; black skirts and gray waists;the trimming chiefly gold braid and buttons, to give a military air. Thegray and gold uniforms of the officers, glittering between, made up acarnival of color. Every moment we saw strange meetings and partings ofpeople from all over the South. Conditions of time, space, locality, andestate were all loosened; everybody seemed floating he knew not whither, but determined to be jolly, and keep up an excitement. At supper we hadtough steak, heavy, dirty-looking bread, Confederate coffee. The coffeewas made of either parched rye or corn-meal, or of sweet potatoes cut insmall cubes and roasted. This was the favorite. When flavored with"coffee essence, " sweetened with sorghum, and tinctured with chalkymilk, it made a curious beverage which, after tasting, I preferred notto drink. Every one else was drinking it, and an acquaintance said, "Oh, you'll get bravely over that. I used to be a Jewess about pork, but nowwe just kill a hog and eat it, and kill another and do the same. It'sall we have. "

Friday morning we took the down train for the station near my friend'shouse. At every station we had to go through the examination of passes, as if in a foreign country. 

The conscript camp was at Brookhaven, and every man had been ordered toreport there or to be treated as a deserter. At every station I shiveredmentally, expecting H. To be dragged off. Brookhaven was also thestation for dinner. I choked mine down, feeling the sword hanging overme by a single hair. At sunset we reached our station. The landlady waspouring tea when we took our seats, and I expected a treat, but when Itasted it was sassafras tea, the very odor of which sickens me. Therewas a general surprise when I asked to exchange it for a glass of water;every one was drinking it as if it were nectar. This morning we droveout here. 

My friend's little nest is calm in contrast to the tumult not far off. Yet the trials of war are here too. Having no matches, they keep fire, carefully covering it at night, for Mr. G. Has no powder, and cannotflash the gun into combustibles as some do. One day they had to go withthe children to the village, and the servant let the fire go out. Whenthey returned at nightfall, wet and hungry, there was neither fire norfood. Mr. G. Had to saddle the tired mule and ride three miles for a panof coals, and blow them, all the way back, to keep them alight. Crockeryhas gradually been broken and tin cups rusted out, and a visitor told methey had made tumblers out of clear glass bottles by cutting them smoothwith a heated wire, and that they had nothing else to drink from. 

_Aug. 11. _--We cannot get to New Orleans. A special passport must beshown, and we are told that to apply for it would render H. Very likelyto be conscripted. I begged him not to try; and as we hear that activehostilities have ceased at Vicksburg, he left me this morning to returnto his uncle's and see what the prospects are there. I shall be inmisery about conscription till he returns. 

_Sunday, Sept. 7. _ (_Vicksburg, Washington Hotel. _)--H. Did not returnfor three weeks. An epidemic disease broke out in his uncle's family andtwo children died. He stayed to assist them in their trouble. Tuesdayevening he returned for me, and we reached Vicksburg yesterday. It wasmy first sight of the "Gibraltar of the South. " Looking at it from aslight elevation suggests the idea that the fragments left fromworld-building had tumbled into a confused mass of hills, hollows, hillocks, banks, ditches, and ravines, and that the houses had raineddown afterward. Over all there was dust impossible to conceive. Thebombardment has done little injury. People have returned and resumedbusiness. A gentleman asked H. If he knew of a nice girl for sale. Iasked if he did not think it impolitic to buy slaves now. 

"Oh, not young ones. Old ones might run off when the enemy's linesapproach ours, but with young ones there is no danger. "

We had not been many hours in town before a position was offered to H. Which seemed providential. The chief of a certain department was in illhealth and wanted a deputy. It secures him from conscription, requiresno oath, and pays a good salary. A mountain seemed lifted off my heart. 

_Thursday, Sept. 18. _ (_Thanksgiving Day. _)--We stayed three days at theWashington Hotel; then a friend of H. 's called and told him to come tohis house till he could find a home. Boarding-houses have all beenbroken up, and the army has occupied the few houses that were for rent. To-day H. Secured a vacant room for two weeks in the onlyboarding-house. 

_Oak Haven, Oct. 3. _--To get a house in V. Proved impossible, so weagreed to part for a time till H. Could find one. A friend recommendedthis quiet farm, six miles from ---- [a station on the Jackson Railroad]. On last Saturday H. Came with me as far as Jackson and put me on theother train for the station. 

On my way hither a lady, whom I judged to be a Confederate"blockade-runner, " told me of the tricks resorted to to get things outof New Orleans, including this: A very large doll was emptied of itsbran, filled with quinine, and elaborately dressed. When the owner'strunk was opened, she declared with tears that the doll was for a poorcrippled girl, and it was passed. 

This farm of Mr. W. 's[2] is kept with about forty negroes. Mr. W. , nearly sixty, is the only white man on it. He seems to have been wiserin the beginning than most others, and curtailed his cotton to make roomfor rye, rice, and corn. There is a large vegetable-garden and orchard;he has bought plenty of stock for beef and mutton, and laid in a largesupply of sugar. He must also have plenty of ammunition, for a man iskept hunting and supplies the table with delicious wild turkeys andother game. There is abundance of milk and butter, hives for honey, andno end of pigs. Chickens seem to be kept like game in parks, for I neversee any, but the hunter shoots them, and eggs are plentiful. We havechicken for breakfast, dinner, and supper, fried, stewed, broiled, andin soup, and there is a family of ten. Luckily I never tire of it. Theymake starch out of corn-meal by washing the meal repeatedly, pouring offthe water, and drying the sediment. Truly the uses of corn in theConfederacy are varied. It makes coffee, beer, whisky, starch, cake, bread. The only privations here are the lack of coffee, tea, salt, matches, and good candles. Mr. W. Is now having the dirt floor of hissmoke-house dug up and boiling from it the salt that has dripped into itfor years. To-day Mrs. W. Made tea out of dried blackberry leaves, butno one liked it. The beds, made out of equal parts of cotton andcorn-shucks, are the most elastic I ever slept in. The servants aredressed in gray homespun. Hester, the chambermaid, has a gray gown sopretty that I covet one like it. Mrs. W. Is now arranging dyes for thethread to be woven into dresses for herself and the girls. Sometimes herhands are a curiosity. 

[Footnote 2: On this plantation, and in this domestic circle, I myselfafterward sojourned, and from them enlisted in the army. The initialsare fictitious, but the description is perfect. --G. W. C. ]

The school at the nearest town is broken up, and Mrs. W. Says thechildren are growing up heathens. Mr. W. Has offered me a liberal priceto give the children lessons in English and French, and I have acceptedtransiently. 

_Oct. 28. _--It is a month to-day since I came here. I only wish H. Couldshare these benefits--the nourishing food, the pure aromatic air, thesound sleep away from the fevered life of Vicksburg. He sends me all thepapers he can get hold of, and we both watch carefully the movementsreported lest an army should get between us. The days are full of usefulwork, and in the lovely afternoons I take long walks with a big dog forcompany. The girls do not care for walking. In the evening Mr. W. Begsme to read aloud all the war news. He is fond of the "Memphis Appeal, "which has moved from town to town so much that they call it the "MovingAppeal. " I sit in a low chair by the fire, as we have no other light toread by. Sometimes traveling soldiers stop here, but that is rare. 

_Oct. 31. _--Mr. W. Said last night the farmers felt uneasy about the"Emancipation Proclamation" to take effect in December. The slaves havefound it out, though it had been carefully kept from them. 

"Do yours know it?" I asked. 

"Oh, yes. Finding it to be known elsewhere, I told it to mine with fairwarning what to expect if they tried to run away. The hounds are not faroff. "

The need of clothing for their armies is worrying them too. I never sawMrs. W. So excited as on last evening. She said the provost-marshal atthe next town had ordered the women to knit so many pairs of socks. 

"Just let him try to enforce it and they will cowhide him. He'll getnone from me. I'll take care of my friends without an order from him. "

"Well, " said Mr. W. , "if the South is defeated and the slaves set free, the Southern people will all become atheists; for the Bible justifiesslavery and says it shall be perpetual. "

"You mean, if the Lord does not agree with you, you'll repudiate him. "

"Well, we'll feel it's no use to believe in anything. "

At night the large sitting-room makes a striking picture. Mr. W. , spare, erect, gray-headed, patriarchal, sits in his big chair by the odorousfire of pine logs and knots roaring up the vast fireplace. His driverbrings to him the report of the day's picking and a basket of snowycotton for the spinning. The hunter brings in the game. I sit on theother side to read. The great spinning-wheels stand at the other end ofthe room, and Mrs. W. And her black satellites, the elderly women withtheir heads in bright bandanas, are hard at work. Slender andauburn-haired, she steps back and forth out of shadow into shinefollowing the thread with graceful movements. Some card the cotton, somereel it into hanks. Over all the firelight glances, now touching thegolden curls of little John toddling about, now the brown heads of thegirls stooping over their books, now the shadowy figure of little Jule, the girl whose duty it is to supply the fire with rich pine to keep upthe vivid light. If they would only let the child sit down! But that isnot allowed, and she gets sleepy and stumbles and knocks her headagainst the wall and then straightens up again. When that happens oftenit drives me off. Sometimes while I read the bright room fades and avision rises of figures clad in gray and blue lying pale and stiff onthe blood-sprinkled ground. 

_Nov. 15. _--Yesterday a letter was handed me from H. Grant's army wasmoving, he wrote, steadily down the Mississippi Central, and might cutthe road at Jackson. He has a house and will meet me in Jacksonto-morrow. 

_Nov. 20. _ (_Vicksburg. _)--A fair morning for my journey back toVicksburg. On the train was the gentleman who in New Orleans had told uswe should have all the butter we wanted from Texas. On the cars, aselsewhere, the question of food alternated with news of the war. 

When we ran into the Jackson station, H. Was on the platform, and Igladly learned that we could go right on. A runaway negro, an old man, ashy-colored from fright and exhaustion, with his hands chained, wasbeing dragged along by a common-looking man. Just as we started out ofJackson the conductor led in a young woman sobbing in a heartbrokenmanner. Her grief seemed so overpowering, and she was so young andhelpless, that every one was interested. Her husband went into the armyin the opening of the war, just after their marriage, and she had neverheard from him since. After months of weary searching she learned he hadbeen heard of at Jackson, and came full of hope, but found no clue. Thesudden breaking down of her hope was terrible. The conductor placed herin care of a gentleman going her way and left her sobbing. At the nextstation the conductor came to ask her about her baggage. She raised herhead to try and answer. "Don't cry so; you'll find him yet. " She gave astart, jumped from her seat with arms flung out and eyes staring. "Therehe is now!" she cried. Her husband stood before her. 

The gentleman beside her yielded his seat, and as hand grasped hand ahysterical gurgle gave place to a look like Heaven's peace. The lowmurmur of their talk began and when I looked around at the next stationthey had bought pies and were eating them together like happy children. 

Midway between Jackson and Vicksburg we reached the station near whereAnnie's parents were staying. I looked out, and there stood Annie with alittle sister on each side of her, brightly smiling at us. Max hadwritten to H. , but we had not seen them since our parting. There wasonly time for a word and the train flashed away. 

XII

VICKSBURG

We reached Vicksburg that night and went to H. 's room. Next morning thecook he had engaged arrived, and we moved into this house. Martha'signorance keeps me busy, and H. Is kept close at his office. 

_January 7, 1863. _--I have had little to record here recently, for wehave lived to ourselves, not visiting or visited. Every one H. Knows isabsent, and I know no one but the family we stayed with at first, andthey are now absent. H. Tells me of the added triumph since the repulseof Sherman in December, and the one paper published here shouts victoryas much as its gradually diminishing size will allow. Paper is a seriouswant. There is a great demand for envelops in the office where H. Is. Hefound and bought a lot of thick and smooth colored paper, cut a tinpattern, and we have whiled away some long evenings cutting envelops andmaking them up. I have put away a package of the best to look at when weare old. The books I brought from Arkansas have proved a treasure, butwe can get no more. I went to the only book-store open; there were nonebut Mrs. Stowe's "Sunny Memories of Foreign Lands. " The clerk said Icould have that cheap, because he couldn't sell her books, so I got itand am reading it now. The monotony has only been broken by letters fromfriends here and there in the Confederacy. One of these letters tells ofa Federal raid to their place, and says: "But the worst thing was, theywould take every toothbrush in the house, because we can't buy any more;and one cavalryman put my sister's new bonnet on his horse, and said, 'Get up, Jack, ' and her bonnet was gone. "

_February 25. _--A long gap in my journal, because H. Has been ill untodeath with typhoid fever, and I nearly broke down from loss of sleep, there being no one to relieve me. I never understood before how terribleit was to be alone at night with a patient in delirium, and no onewithin call. To wake Martha was simply impossible. I got the best doctorhere, but when convalescence began the question of food was a trial. Igot with great difficulty two chickens. The doctor made the drug-storesell two of their six bottles of port; he said his patient's lifedepended on it. An egg is a rare and precious thing. Meanwhile theFederal fleet has been gathering, has anchored at the bend, and shellsare thrown in at intervals. 

_March 20. _--The slow shelling of Vicksburg goes on all the time, and wehave grown indifferent. It does not at present interrupt or interferewith daily avocations, but I suspect they are only getting the range ofdifferent points; and when they have them all complete, showers of shotwill rain on us all at once. Non-combatants have been ordered to leaveor prepare accordingly. Those who are to stay are having caves built. Cave-digging has become a regular business; prices range from twenty tofifty dollars, according to size of cave. Two diggers worked at ours aweek and charged thirty dollars. It is well made in the hill that slopesjust in the rear of the house, and well propped with thick posts, asthey all are. It has a shelf also, for holding a light or water. When wewent in this evening and sat down, the earthy, suffocating feeling, asof a living tomb, was dreadful to me. I fear I shall risk death outsiderather than melt in that dark furnace. The hills are so honeycombed withcaves that the streets look like avenues in a cemetery. The hill calledthe Sky-parlor has become quite a fashionable resort for the fewupper-circle families left here. Some officers are quartered there, andthere is a band and a field-glass. Last evening we also climbed the hillto watch the shelling, but found the view not so good as on a quiet hillnearer home. Soon a lady began to talk to one of the officers: "It issuch folly for them to waste their ammunition like that. How can theyever take a town that has such advantages for defense and protection asthis? We'll just burrow into these hills and let them batter away ashard as they please. "

"You are right, madam; and besides, when our women are so willing tobrave death and endure discomfort, how can we ever be conquered?"

Soon she looked over with significant glances to where we stood, andbegan to talk at H. 

"The only drawback, " she said, "are the contemptible men who are stayingat home in comfort, when they ought to be in the army if they had aspark of honor. "

I cannot repeat all, but it was the usual tirade. It is strange I havemet no one yet who seems to comprehend an honest difference of opinion, and stranger yet that the ordinary rules of good breeding are now soentirely ignored. As the spring comes one has the craving for fresh, green food that a monotonous diet produces. There was a bed of radishesand onions in the garden that were a real blessing. An onion salad, dressed only with salt, vinegar, and pepper, seemed a dish fit for aking; but last night the soldiers quartered near made a raid on thegarden and took them all. 

_April 2. _--We have had to move, and thus lost our cave. The owner ofthe house suddenly returned and notified us that he intended to bringhis family back; didn't think there'd be any siege. The cost of the cavecould go for the rent. That means he has got tired of the Confederacyand means to stay here and thus get out of it. This house was the onlyone to be had. It was built by ex-Senator G. , and is so large our tinyhousehold is lost in it. We use only the lower floor. The bell is oftenrung by persons who take it for a hotel and come beseeching food at anyprice. To-day one came who would not be denied. "We do not keep a hotel, but would willingly feed hungry soldiers if we had the food. " "I havebeen traveling all night, and am starving; will pay any price for justbread. " I went to the dining-room and found some biscuits, and set outtwo, with a large piece of corn-bread, a small piece of bacon, some nicesyrup, and a pitcher of water. I locked the door of the safe and lefthim to enjoy his lunch. After he left I found he had broken open thesafe and taken the remaining biscuits. 

_April 28. _--I never understood before the full force of thosequestions--What shall we eat? what shall we drink? and wherewithal shallwe be clothed? We have no prophet of the Lord at whose prayer the mealand oil will not waste. Such minute attention must be given the wardrobeto preserve it that I have learned to darn like an artist. Making shoesis now another accomplishment. Mine were in tatters. H. Came across amoth-eaten pair that he bought me, giving ten dollars, I think, and theyfell into rags when I tried to wear them; but the soles were good, andthat has helped me to shoes. A pair of old coat-sleeves saved--nothingis thrown away now--was in my trunk. I cut an exact pattern from my oldshoes, laid it on the sleeves, and cut out thus good uppers and sewedthem carefully; then soaked the soles and sewed the cloth to them. I amso proud of these home-made shoes, think I'll put them in a glass casewhen the war is over, as an heirloom. H. Says he has come to have anabiding faith that everything he needs to wear will come out of thattrunk while the war lasts. It is like a fairy casket. I have but a dozenpins remaining, so many I gave away. Every time these are used they arestraightened and kept from rust. All these curious labors are performedwhile the shells are leisurely screaming through the air; but as long aswe are out of range we don't worry. For many nights we have had butlittle sleep, because the Federal gunboats have been running past thebatteries. The uproar when this is happening is phenomenal. The firstnight the thundering artillery burst the bars of sleep, we thought it anattack by the river. To get into garments and rush up-stairs was thework of a moment. From the upper gallery we have a fine view of theriver, and soon a red glare lit up the scene and showed a small boat, towing two large barges, gliding by. The Confederates had set fire to ahouse near the bank. Another night, eight boats ran by, throwing ashower of shot, and two burning houses made the river clear as day. Oneof the batteries has a remarkable gun they call "Whistling Dick, "because of the screeching, whistling sound it gives, and certainly itdoes sound like a tortured thing. Added to all this is the indescribableConfederate yell, which is a soul-harrowing sound to hear. I have gainedrespect for the mechanism of the human ear, which stands it all withoutinjury. The streets are seldom quiet at night; even the dragging aboutof cannon makes a din in these echoing gullies. The other night we wereon the gallery till the last of the eight boats got by. Next day afriend said to H. , "It was a wonder you didn't have your heads takenoff last night. I passed and saw them stretched over the gallery, andgrape-shot were whizzing up the street just on a level with you. " Thedouble roar of batteries and boats was so great, we never noticed thewhizzing. Yesterday the _Cincinnati_ attempted to go by in daylight butwas disabled and sunk. It was a pitiful sight; we could not see thefinale, though we saw her rendered helpless. 

XIII

PREPARATIONS FOR THE SIEGE

_Vicksburg, May 1, 1863. _--It is settled at last that we shall spend thetime of siege in Vicksburg. Ever since we were deprived of our cave, Ihad been dreading that H. Would suggest sending me to the country, wherehis relatives lived. As he could not leave his position and go alsowithout being conscripted, and as I felt certain an army would getbetween us, it was no part of my plan to be obedient. A shell from oneof the practising mortars brought the point to an issue yesterday andsettled it. Sitting at work as usual, listening to the distant sound ofbursting shells, apparently aimed at the court-house, there suddenlycame a nearer explosion; the house shook, and a tearing sound wasfollowed by terrified screams from the kitchen. I rushed thither, butmet in the hall the cook's little girl America, bleeding from a wound inthe forehead, and fairly dancing with fright and pain, while she utteredfearful yells. I stopped to examine the wound, and her mother boundedin, her black face ashy from terror. "Oh! Miss V. , my child is killedand the kitchen tore up. " Seeing America was too lively to be a killedsubject, I consoled Martha and hastened to the kitchen. Evidently ashell had exploded just outside, sending three or four pieces through. When order was restored I endeavored to impress on Martha's mind thenecessity for calmness and the uselessness of such excitement. Lookinground at the close of the lecture, there stood a group of Confederatesoldiers laughing heartily at my sermon and the promising audience Ihad. They chimed in with a parting chorus:

"Yes, it's no use hollerin', old lady. "

"Oh! H. , " I exclaimed, as he entered soon after, "America is wounded. "

"That is no news; she has been wounded by traitors long ago. "

"Oh, this is real, living, little black America. I am not talking insymbols. Here are the pieces of shell, the first bolt of the comingsiege. "

"Now you see, " he replied, "that this house will be but paper tomortar-shells. You must go in the country. "

The argument was long, but when a woman is obstinate and eloquent, shegenerally conquers. I came off victorious, and we finished preparationsfor the siege to-day. Hiring a man to assist, we descended to thewine-cellar, where the accumulated bottles told of the "banquet-halldeserted, " the spirit and glow of the festive hours whose lights andgarlands were dead, and the last guest long since departed. To emptythis cellar was the work of many hours. Then in the safest corner aplatform was laid for our bed, and in another portion one arranged forMartha. The dungeon, as I call it, is lighted only by a trap-door, andis so damp it will be necessary to remove the bedding and mosquito-barsevery day. The next question was of supplies. I had nothing left but asack of rice-flour, and no manner of cooking I had heard or inventedcontrived to make it eatable. A column of recipes for making deliciouspreparations of it had been going the rounds of Confederate papers. Itried them all; they resulted only in brick-bats or sticky paste. H. Sallied out on a hunt for provisions, and when he returned thedisproportionate quantity of the different articles obtained provoked asmile. There was a _hogshead_ of sugar, a barrel of syrup, ten pounds ofbacon and peas, four pounds of wheat-flour, and a small sack ofcorn-meal, a little vinegar, and actually some spice! The wheat-flour hepurchased for ten dollars as a special favor from the sole remainingbarrel for sale. We decided that must be left for sickness. The sack ofmeal, he said, was a case of corruption, through a special providence tous. There is no more for sale at any price; but, said he, "a soldier whowas hauling some of the Government sacks to the hospital offered me thisfor five dollars, if I could keep a secret. When the meal is exhausted, perhaps we can keep alive on sugar. Here are some wax candles; hoardthem like gold. " He handed me a parcel containing about two pounds ofcandles, and left me to arrange my treasures. It would be hard for me topicture the memories those candles called up. The long years meltedaway, and I

 Trod again my childhood's track, And felt its very gladness. 

In those childish days, whenever came dreams Of household splendor orfestal rooms or gay illuminations, the lights in my vision were alwayswax candles burning with a soft radiance that enchanted every scene. . . . And, lo! here on this spring day of '63, with war raging through theland, I was in a fine house, and had my wax candles sure enough; but, alas! they were neither cerulean blue nor rose-tinted, but dirty brown;and when I lighted one, it spluttered and wasted like any vulgar tallowthing, and lighted only a desolate scene in the vast handsome room. Theywere not so good as the waxen rope we had made in Arkansas. So, with along sigh for the dreams of youth, I return to the stern present in thisbesieged town--my only consolation to remember the old axiom, "A citybesieged is a city taken, "--so if we live through it we shall be out ofthe Confederacy. H. Is very tired of having to carry a pass around inhis pocket and go every now and then to have it renewed. We have been sovery free in America, these restrictions are irksome. 

_May 9. _--This morning the door-bell rang a startling peal. Martha beingbusy, I answered it. An orderly in gray stood with an official envelopin his hand. 

"Who lives here?"

"Mr. L. "

Very imperiously--"Which Mr. L. ?"

"Mr. H. L. "

"Is he here?"

"No. "

"Where can he be found?"

"At the office of Deputy ----. "

"I'm not going there. This is an order from General Pemberton for you tomove out of this house in two hours. He has selected it forheadquarters. He will furnish you with wagons. "

"Will he furnish another house also?"

"Of course not. "

"Has the owner been consulted?"

"He has not; that is of no consequence; it has been taken. Take thisorder. "

"I shall not take it, and I shall not move, as there is no place to moveto but the street. "

"Then I'll take it to Mr. L. "

"Very well; do so. "

As soon as Mr. Impertine walked off, I locked, bolted, and barred everydoor and window. In ten minutes H. Came home. 

"Hold the fort till I've seen the owner and the general, " he said, as Ilocked him out. 

Then Dr. B. 's remark in New Orleans about the effect of Dr. C. 's finepresence on the Confederate officials there came to mind. They are justthe people to be influenced in that way, I thought. I look rather shabbynow; I will dress. I made an elaborate toilet, put on the best and mostbecoming dress I had, the richest lace, the handsomest ornaments, takingcare that all should be appropriate to a morning visit; dressed my hairin the stateliest braids, and took a seat in the parlor ready for thefray. H. Came to the window and said:

"Landlord says, 'Keep them out. Wouldn't let them have his house at anyprice. ' He is just riding to the country and can't help us now. Now I'mto see Major C. , who sent the order. "

Next came an officer, banged at the door till tired, and walked away. Then the orderly came again and beat the door--same result. Next, fourofficers with bundles and lunch-baskets, followed by a wagon-load offurniture. They went round the house, tried every door, peeped in thewindows, pounded and rapped, while I watched them through theblind-slats. Presently the fattest one, a real Falstaffian man, cameback to the front door and rang a thundering peal. I saw the chance forfun and for putting on their own grandiloquent style. Stealing on tiptoeto the door, I turned the key and bolt noiselessly, and suddenly threwwide back the door and appeared behind it. He had been leaning on it, and nearly pitched forward with an "Oh! what's this!" Then seeing me ashe straightened up, "Ah, madam!" almost stuttering from surprise andanger, "are you aware I had the right to break down this door if youhadn't opened it?"

"That would make no difference to me. I'm not the owner. You or thelandlord would pay the bill for the repairs. "

"Why didn't you open the door?"

"Have I not done so as soon as you rung? A lady does not open the doorto men who beat on it. Gentlemen usually ring; I thought it might bestragglers pounding. "

"Well, " growing much blander, "we are going to send you some wagons tomove; you must get ready. "

"With pleasure, if you have selected a house for me. This is too large;it does not suit me. "

"No, I didn't find a house for you. "

"You surely don't expect me to run about in the dust and shelling tolook for it, and Mr. L. Is too busy. "

"Well, madam, then we must share the house. We will take the lowerfloor. "

"I prefer to keep the lower floor myself; you surely don't expect me togo up and down stairs when you are so light and more able to do it. "

He walked through the hall, trying the doors. "What room is that?" "Theparlor. " "And this?" "My bedroom. " "And this?" "The dining-room. "

"Well, madam, we'll find you a house and then come and take this. "

"Thank you, colonel; I shall be ready when you find the house. Good-morning, sir. "

I heard him say as he ran down the steps, "We must go back, captain; yousee I didn't know they were this kind of people. "

Of course the orderly had lied in the beginning to scare me, for GeneralP. Is too far away from Vicksburg to send an order. He is looking aboutfor General Grant. We are told he has gone out to meet Johnston; andtogether they expect to annihilate Grant's army and free Vicksburgforever. There is now a general hospital opposite this house, and asmallpox hospital next door. War, famine, pestilence, and fire surroundus. Every day the band plays in front of the smallpox hospital. I wonderif it is to keep up their spirits? One would suppose quiet would be morecheering. 

_May 17. _--Hardly was our scanty breakfast over this morning when ahurried ring drew us both to the door. 

Mr. J. , one of H. 's assistants, stood there in high excitement. 

"Well, Mr. L. , they are upon us; the Yankees will be here by thisevening. "

"What do you mean?"

"That Pemberton has been whipped at Baker's Creek and Big Black, and hisarmy are running back here as fast as they can come, and the Yanks afterthem, in such numbers nothing can stop them. Hasn't Pemberton acted likea fool?"

"He may not be the only one to blame, " replied H. 

"They're coming along the Big B. Road, and my folks went down there tobe safe, you know; now they're right in it. I hear you can't see thearmies for the dust; never was anything else known like it. But I mustgo and try to bring my folks back here. "

What struck us both was the absence of that concern to be expected, anda sort of relief or suppressed pleasure. After twelve someworn-out-looking men sat down under the window. 

"What is the news?" I inquired. 

"Ritreat, ritreat!" they said, in broken English--they were LouisianaAcadians. 

About three o'clock the rush began. I shall never forget that woefulsight of a beaten, demoralized army that came rushing back, --humanity inthe last throes of endurance. Wan, hollow-eyed, ragged, foot-sore, bloody, the men limped along unarmed, but followed by siege-guns, ambulances, gun-carriages, and wagons in aimless confusion. At twilighttwo or three bands on the court-house hill and other points beganplaying "Dixie, " "Bonnie Blue Flag, " and so on, and drums began to beatall about; I suppose they were rallying the scattered army. 

_May 28. _--Since that day the regular siege has continued. We areutterly cut off from the world, surrounded by a circle of fire. Would itbe wise like the scorpion to sting ourselves to death? The fiery showerof shells goes on day and night. H. 's occupation, of course, is gone;his office closed. Every man has to carry a pass in his pocket. Peopledo nothing but eat what they can get, sleep when they can, and dodge theshells. There are three intervals when the shelling stops either for theguns to cool or for the gunners' meals, I suppose, --about eight in themorning, the same in the evening, and at noon. In that time we have bothto prepare and eat ours. Clothing cannot be washed or anything elsedone. On the 19th and 22d, when the assaults were made on the lines, Iwatched the soldiers cooking on the green opposite. The half-spent ballscoming all the way from those lines were flying so thick that they wereobliged to dodge at every turn. At all the caves I could see from myhigh perch, people were sitting, eating their poor suppers at the cavedoors, ready to plunge in again. As the first shell again flew theydived, and not a human being was visible. The sharp crackle of themusketry-firing was a strong contrast to the scream of the bombs. Ithink all the dogs and cats must be killed or starved: we don't see anymore pitiful animals prowling around. . . . The cellar is so damp and mustythe bedding has to be carried out and laid in the sun every day, withthe forecast that it may be demolished at any moment. The confinement isdreadful. To sit and listen as if waiting for death in a horriblemanner would drive me insane. I don't know what others do, but we readwhen I am not scribbling in this. H. Borrowed somewhere a lot ofDickens's novels, and we reread them, by the dim light in the cellar. When the shelling abates, H. Goes to walk about a little or get the"Daily Citizen, " which is still issuing a tiny sheet at twenty-five andfifty cents a copy. It is, of course, but a rehash of speculations whichamuses a half hour. To-day he heard while out that expert swimmers arecrossing the Mississippi on logs at night to bring and carry news toJohnston. I am so tired of corn-bread, which I never liked, that I eatit with tears in my eyes. We are lucky to get a quart of milk daily froma family near who have a cow they hourly expect to be killed. I sendfive dollars to market each morning, and it buys a small piece ofmule-meat. Rice and milk is my main food; I can't eat the mule-meat. Weboil the rice and eat it cold with milk for supper. Martha runs thegauntlet to buy the meat and milk once a day in a perfect terror. Theshells seem to have many different names: I hear the soldiers say, "That's a mortar-shell. There goes a Parrott. That's a rifle-shell. "They are all equally terrible. A pair of chimney-swallows have built inthe parlor chimney. The concussion of the house often sends down partsof their nest, which they patiently pick up and reascend with. 

_Friday, June 5. In the cellar. _--Wednesday evening H. Said he must takea little walk, and went while the shelling had stopped. He never leavesme alone for long, and when an hour had passed without his return Igrew anxious; and when two hours, and the shelling had grown terrific, Imomentarily expected to see his mangled body. All sorts of horrors fillthe mind now, and I am so desolate here; not a friend. When he came hesaid that, passing a cave where there were no others near, he heardgroans, and found a shell had struck above and caused the cave to fallin on the man within. He could not extricate him alone, and had to gethelp and dig him out. He was badly hurt, but not mortally, and I feltfairly sick from the suspense. 

Yesterday morning a note was brought H. From a bachelor uncle out in thetrenches, saying he had been taken ill with fever, and could we receivehim if he came? H. Sent to tell him to come, and I arranged one of theparlors as a dressing-room for him, and laid a pallet that he could moveback and forth to the cellar. He did not arrive, however. It is ourcustom in the evening to sit in the front room a little while in thedark, with matches and candle held ready in hand, and watch the shells, whose course at night is shown by the fuse. H. Was at the window andsuddenly sprang up, crying, "Run!"--"Where?"--"_Back_!"

I started through the back room, H. After me. I was just within the doorwhen the crash came that threw me to the floor. It was the mostappalling sensation I'd ever known--worse than an earthquake, which I'vealso experienced. Shaken and deafened, I picked myself up; H. Had strucka light to find me. I lighted one, and the smoke guided us to the parlorI had fixed for Uncle J. The candles were useless in the dense smoke, and it was many minutes before we could see. Then we found the entireside of the room torn out. The soldiers who had rushed in said, "This isan eighty-pound Parrott. " It had entered through the front, burst on thepallet-bed, which was in tatters; the toilet service and everything elsein the room smashed. The soldiers assisted H. To board up the break withplanks to keep out prowlers, and we went to bed in the cellar as usual. This morning the yard is partially plowed by a couple that fell there inthe night. I think this house, so large and prominent from the river, isperhaps taken for headquarters and specially shelled. As we descend atnight to the lower regions, I think of the evening hymn that grandmothertaught me when a child:

 Lord, keep us safe this night, Secure from all our fears; May angels guard us while we sleep, Till morning light appears. 

Surely, if there are heavenly guardians, we need them now. 

_June 7. _ (_In the cellar. _)--There is one thing I feel especiallygrateful for, that amid these horrors we have been spared that ofsuffering for water. The weather has been dry a long time, and we hearof others dipping up the water from ditches and mud-holes. This placehas two large underground cisterns of good cool water, and every nightin my subterranean dressing-room a tub of cold water is the nerve-calmerthat sends me to sleep in spite of the roar. One cistern I had to giveup to the soldiers, who swarm about like hungry animals seekingsomething to devour. Poor fellows! my heart bleeds for them. They havenothing but spoiled, greasy bacon, and bread made of musty pea-flour, and but little of that. The sick ones can't bolt it. They come into thekitchen when Martha puts the pan of corn-bread in the stove, and beg forthe bowl she mixed it in. They shake up the scrapings with water, put intheir bacon, and boil the mixture into a kind of soup, which is easierto swallow than pea-bread. When I happen in, they look so ashamed oftheir poor clothes. I know we saved the lives of two by giving a fewmeals. To-day one crawled on the gallery to lie in the breeze. He lookedas if shells had lost their terrors for his dumb and famished misery. I've taught Martha to make first-rate corn-meal gruel, because I can eatmeal easier that way than in hoe-cake, and I fixed him a saucerful, putmilk and sugar and nutmeg--I've actually got a nutmeg! When he ate itthe tears ran from his eyes. "Oh, madam, there was never anything sogood! I shall get better. "

_June 9. _--The churches are a great resort for those who have no caves. People fancy they are not shelled so much, and they are substantial andthe pews good to sleep in. We had to leave this house last night, theywere shelling our quarter so heavily. The night before, Martha forsookthe cellar for a church. We went to H. 's office, which was comparativelyquiet last night. H. Carried the bank-box; I the case of matches; Marthathe blankets and pillows, keeping an eye on the shells. We slept onpiles of old newspapers. In the streets the roar seems so much moreconfusing, I feel sure I shall run right in the way of a shell. Theyseem to have five different sounds from the second of throwing them tothe hollow echo wandering among the hills, and that sounds the mostblood-curdling of all. 

_June 13. _--Shell burst just over the roof this morning. Pieces torethrough both floors down into the dining-room. The entire ceiling ofthat room fell in a mass. We had just left it. Every piece of crockeryon the table was smashed up. The "Daily Citizen" to-day is a foot and ahalf long and six inches wide. It has a long letter from a Federalofficer, P. P. Hill, who was on the gunboat _Cincinnati_, that was sunkMay 27. Says it was found in his floating trunk. The editorial says, "The utmost confidence is felt that we can maintain our position untilsuccor comes from outside. The undaunted Johnston is at hand. "

_June 18. _--To-day the "Citizen" is printed on wallpaper; therefore hasgrown a little in size. It says, "But a few days more and Johnston willbe here"; also that "Kirby Smith has driven Banks from Port Hudson, " andthat "the enemy are throwing incendiary shells in. "

_June 20. _--The gentleman who took our cave came yesterday to invite usto come to it, because, he said, "it's going to be very bad to-day. " Idon't know why he thought so. We went, and found his own and anotherfamily in it; sat outside and watched the shells till we concluded thecellar was as good a place as that hillside. I fear the want of goodfood is breaking down H. I know from my own feelings of weakness, butmine is not an American constitution and has a recuperative power thathis has not. 

_June 21. _--I had gone up-stairs to-day during the interregnum to enjoya rest on my bed, and read the reliable items in the "Citizen, " when ashell burst right outside the window in front of me. Pieces flew in, striking all around me, tearing down masses of plaster that cametumbling over me. When H. Rushed in I was crawling out of the plaster, digging it out of my eyes and hair. When he picked up a piece as largeas a saucer beside my pillow, I realized my narrow escape. Thewindowframe began to smoke, and we saw the house was on fire. H. Ran fora hatchet and I for water, and we put it out. Another [shell] camecrashing near, and I snatched up my comb and brush and ran down here. Ithas taken all the afternoon to get the plaster out of my hair, for myhands were rather shaky. 

_June 25. _--A horrible day. The most horrible yet to me, because I'velost my nerve. We were all in the cellar, when a shell came tearingthrough the roof, burst up-stairs, tore up that room, and the piecescoming through both floors down into the cellar, one of them tore openthe leg of H. 's pantaloons. This was tangible proof the cellar was noplace of protection from them. On the heels of this came Mr. J. To tellus that young Mrs. P. Had had her thigh-bone crushed. When Martha wentfor the milk she came back horror-stricken to tell us the black girlthere had her arm taken off by a shell. For the first time I quailed. Ido not think people who are physically brave deserve much credit for it;it is a matter of nerves. In this way I am constitutionally brave, andseldom think of danger till it is over; and death has not the terrorsfor me it has for some others. Every night I had lain down expectingdeath, and every morning rose to the same prospect, without beingunnerved. It was for H. I trembled. But now I first seemed to realizethat something worse than death might come: I might be crippled, and notkilled. Life, without all one's powers and limbs, was a thought thatbroke down my courage. I said to H. , "You must get me out of thishorrible place; I cannot stay; I know I shall be crippled. " Now theregret comes that I lost control, because H. Is worried, and has losthis composure, because my coolness has broken down. 

_July 1. _--Some months ago, thinking it might be useful, I obtained fromthe consul of my birthplace, by sending to another town, a passport forforeign parts. H. Said if we went out to the lines we might be permittedto get through on that. So we packed the trunks, got a carriage, and onthe 30th drove out there. General V. Offered us seats in his tent. Therifle-bullets were whizzing so _zip, zip_ from the sharpshooters on theFederal lines that involuntarily I moved on my chair. He said, "Don't bealarmed; you are out of range. They are firing at our mules yonder. " Hishorse, tied by the tent door, was quivering all over, the most intenseexhibition of fear I'd ever seen in an animal. General V. Sent out aflag of truce to the Federal headquarters, and while we waited wrote ona piece of silk paper a few words. Then he said, "My wife is inTennessee. If you get through the lines, send her this. They will searchyou, so I will put it in this toothpick. " He crammed the silk paper intoa quill toothpick, and handed it to H. It was completely concealed. Theflag-of-truce officer came back flushed and angry. "General Grant saysno human being shall pass out of Vicksburg; but the lady may feel suredanger will soon be over. Vicksburg will surrender on the 4th. "

"Is that so, general?" inquired H. "Are arrangements for surrendermade?"

"We know nothing of the kind. Vicksburg will not surrender. "

"Those were General Grant's exact words, sir, " said the flag-officer. "Of course it is nothing but their brag. "

We went back sadly enough, but to-day H. Says he will cross the river toGeneral Porter's lines and try there; I shall not be disappointed. 

_July 3. _--H. Was going to headquarters for the requisite pass, and hesaw General Pemberton crawling out of a cave, for the shelling had beenas hot as ever. He got the pass, but did not act with his usual caution, for the boat he secured was a miserable, leaky one--a mere trough. Leaving Martha in charge, we went to the river, had our trunks put inthe boat, and embarked; but the boat became utterly unmanageable, andbegan to fill with water rapidly. H. Saw that we could not cross in it, and turned to come back; yet in spite of that the pickets at the batteryfired on us. H. Raised the white flag he had, yet they fired again, andI gave a cry of horror that none of these dreadful things had wrung fromme. I thought H. Was struck. When we landed H. Showed the pass, and saidthat the officer had told him the battery would be notified we were tocross. The officer apologized and said they were not notified. Hefurnished a cart to get home, and to-day we are down in the cellaragain, shells flying as thick as ever; provisions so nearly gone, except the hogshead of sugar, that a few more days will bring us tostarvation indeed. Martha says rats are hanging dressed in the marketfor sale with mule-meat: there is nothing else. The officer at thebattery told me he had eaten one yesterday. We have tried to leave thisTophet and failed, and if the siege continues I must summon that higherkind of courage--moral bravery--to subdue my fears of possiblemutilation. 

_July 4. _--It is evening. All is still. Silence and night are once moreunited. I can sit at the table in the parlor and write. Two candles arelighted. I would like a dozen. We have had wheat supper and wheat breadonce more. H. Is leaning back in the rocking-chair; he says:

"G. , it seems to me I can hear the silence, and feel it, too. It wrapsme like a soft garment; how else can I express this peace?"

But I must write the history of the last twenty-four hours. About fiveyesterday afternoon, Mr. J. , H. 's assistant, who, having no wife to keephim in, dodges about at every change and brings us the news, came to H. And said:

"Mr. L. , you must both come to our cave to-night. I hear that to-nightthe shelling is to surpass everything yet. An assault will be made infront and rear. You know we have a double cave; there is room for you inmine, and mother and sister will make a place for Mrs. L. Come right up;the ball will open about seven. "

We got ready, shut up the house, told Martha to go to the church againif she preferred it to the cellar, and walked up to Mr. J. 's. Whensupper was eaten, all secure, and ladies in their cave night toilet, itwas just six, and we crossed the street to the cave opposite. As Icrossed a mighty shell flew screaming right over my head. It was thelast thrown into Vicksburg. We lay on our pallets waiting for theexpected roar, but no sound came except the chatter from neighboringcaves, and at last we dropped asleep. I woke at dawn stiff. A draft fromthe funnel-shaped opening had been blowing on me all night. Every onewas expressing surprise at the quiet. We started for home and met theeditor of the "Daily Citizen. " H. Said:

"This is strangely quiet, Mr. L. "

"Ah, sir, " shaking his head gloomily, "I'm afraid (?) the last shell hasbeen thrown into Vicksburg. "

"Why do you fear so?"

"It is surrender. At six last evening a man went down to the river andblew a truce signal; the shelling stopped at once. "

When I entered the kitchen a soldier was there waiting for the bowl ofscrapings (they took turns for it). 

"Good morning, madam, " he said; "we won't bother you much longer. Wecan't thank you enough for letting us come, for getting this soup boiledhas helped some of us to keep alive; but now all this is over. "

"Is it true about the surrender?"

"Yes; we have had no official notice, but they are paroling out at thelines now, and the men in Vicksburg will never forgive Pemberton. An oldgranny! A child would have known better than to shut men up in thiscursed trap to starve to death like useless vermin. " His eyes flashedwith an insane fire as he spoke, "Haven't I seen my friends carried outthree or four in a box, that had died of starvation! Nothing else, madam! Starved to death because we had a fool for a general. "

"Don't you think you're rather hard on Pemberton? He thought it his dutyto wait for Johnston. "

"Some people may excuse him, ma'am; but we'll curse him to our dyingday. Anyhow, you'll see the blue-coats directly. "

Breakfast despatched, we went on the upper gallery. What I expected tosee was files of soldiers marching in, but it was very different. Thestreet was deserted, save by a few people carrying home bedding fromtheir caves. Among these was a group taking home a little creature bornin a cave a few days previous, and its wan-looking mother. About eleveno'clock a soldier in blue came sauntering along, who looked aboutcuriously. Then two more followed him, and then another. 

"H. , do you think these can be the Federal soldiers?"

"Why, yes; here come more up the street. "

Soon a group appeared on the court-house hill, and the flag began slowlyto rise to the top of the staff. As the breeze caught it, and it sprangout like a live thing exultant, H. Drew a long breath of contentment. 

"Now I feel once more at home in mine own country. "

In an hour more a grand rush of people setting toward the riverbegan, --foremost among them the gentleman who took our cave; all wereflying as if for life. 

"What can this mean, H. ? Are the populace turning out to greet thedespised conquerors?"

"Oh, " said H. , springing up, "look! It is the boats coming around thebend. "

Truly it was a fine spectacle to see that fleet of transports sweeparound the curve and anchor in the teeth of the battery so latelyvomiting fire. Presently Mr. J. Passed and called:

"Aren't you coming, Mr. L. ? There's provisions on those boats: coffeeand flour. 'First come, first served, ' you know. "

"Yes, I'll be there pretty soon, " replied H. 

But now the newcomers began to swarm into our yard, asking H. If he hadcoin to sell for greenbacks. He had some, and a little bartering went onwith the new greenbacks. H. Went out to get provisions. When he returneda Confederate officer came with him. H. Went to the box of Confederatemoney and took out four hundred dollars, and the officer took off hiswatch, a plain gold one, and laid it on the table, saying, "We have notbeen paid, and I must get home to my family. " H. Added a five-dollargreenback to the pile, and wished him a happy meeting. The townsfolkcontinued to dash through the streets with their arms full, canned goodspredominating. Toward five, Mr. J. Passed again. "Keep on the lookout, "he said; "the army of occupation is coming along, " and in a few minutesthe head of the column appeared. What a contrast to the sufferingcreatures we had seen so long were these stalwart, well-fed men, sosplendidly set up and accoutred! Sleek horses, polished arms, brightplumes, --this was the pride and panoply of war! Civilization, discipline, and order seemed to enter with the measured tramp of thosemarching columns; and the heart turned with throbs of added pity to theworn men in gray, who were being blindly dashed against this embodimentof modern power. And now this "silence that is golden" indeed is overall, and my limbs are unhurt, and I suppose if I were a Catholic, in myfervent gratitude I would hie me with a rich offering to the shrine of"our Lady of Mercy. "

_July 7. _--I did not enjoy quiet long. First came Martha, who announcedher intention of going to search for her sons, as she was free now. Iwas hardly able to stand since the severe cold taken in the cave thatnight; but she would not wait a day. A colored woman came in and saidshe had asked her mistress for wages and she had turned her out (wantinga place). I was in no condition to stand upon ceremony then, and engagedher at once, but hear to-day that I am thoroughly pulled to pieces inVicksburg circles; there is no more salvation for me. Next came twoFederal officers and wanted rooms and board. To have some protection wasa necessity; both armies were still in town, and for the past three daysevery Confederate soldier I see has a cracker in his hand. There ishardly any water in town, no prospect of rain, and the soldiers haveemptied one cistern in the yard already and begun on the other. Thecolonel put a guard at the gate to limit the water given. Next came theowner of the house and said we must move; he wanted the house, but itwas so big he'd just bring his family in; we could stay till we got one. They brought boarders with them too, and children. Men are at work allover the house shoveling up the plaster before repairing. Up-stairs theyare pouring it by bucketfuls through the windows. Colonel D. Broughtwork for H. To help with from headquarters. Making out the paroles andcopying them has taken so long they wanted help. I am surprised andmortified to find that two thirds of all the men who have signed madetheir mark; they cannot write. I never thought there was so muchignorance in the South. One of the men at headquarters took a fancy toH. , and presented him with a portfolio that he said he had captured whenthe Confederates evacuated their headquarters at Jackson. It containedmostly family letters written in French, and a few official papers. Among them was the following note, which I will copy here, and file awaythe original as a curiosity when the war is over. 

 HEADQUARTERS DEPT. OF TENN. TUPELO, Aug. 6, 1862. 

 CAPT: The Major-General Commanding directs me to say that he submits it altogether to your own discretion whether you make the attempt to capture General Grant or not. While the exploit would be very brilliant if successful, you must remember that failure would be disastrous to you and your men. The General commends your activity and energy, and expects you to continue to show these qualities. 

 I am, very respectfully, yr. Obt. Svt. THOMAS L. SNEAD, A. A. G. 

 CAPT. GEO. L. BAXTER, Commanding Beauregard Scouts. 

I would like to know if he tried it and came to grief or abandoned theproject. As letters can now get through to New Orleans, I wrote there. 

_July 14. _--Moved yesterday into a house I call "Fair Rosamond's bower"because it would take a clue of thread to go through it without gettinglost. One room has five doors opening into the house, and no windows. The stairs are like ladders, and the colonel's contraband valet won'trisk his neck taking down water, but pours it through the windows onpeople's heads. We sha'n't stay in it. Men are at work closing up thecaves; they had become hiding-places for trash. Vicksburg is now likeone vast hospital--every one is getting sick or is sick. My cook wastaken to-day with bilious fever, and nothing but will keeps me up. 

_July 23. _--We moved again two days ago. 

_Aug. 20. _--Sitting in my easy-chair to-day, looking out upon a grassyslope of the hill in the rear of this house, I have looked over thisjournal as if in a dream; for since the last date sickness and sorrowhave been with me. I feel as if an angry wave had passed over me, bearing away strength and treasure. For on one day there came to me fromNew Orleans the news of Mrs. B. 's death, a friend whom no tie of bloodcould have made nearer. The next day my beautiful boy ended his brieflife of ten days, and died in my arms. My own illness caused him toperish; the fatal cold in the cave was the last straw that broke downstrength. The colonel's sweet wife has come, and I do not lack now forwomanly companionship. She says that with such a prenatal experienceperhaps death was the best for him. I try to think so, and to be gladthat H. Has not been ill, though I see the effects. This book isexhausted, and I wonder whether there will be more adventures by floodand field to cause me to begin another. 

THE LOCOMOTIVE CHASE IN GEORGIA

BY WILLIAM PITTENGER

The railroad raid to Georgia, in the spring of 1862, has always beenconsidered to rank high among the striking and novel incidents of thecivil war. At that time General O. M. Mitchel, under whose authority itwas organized, commanded Union forces in middle Tennessee, consisting ofa division of Buell's army. The Confederates were concentrating atCorinth, Mississippi, and Grant and Buell were advancing by differentroutes toward that point. Mitchel's orders required him to protectNashville and the country around, but allowed him great latitude in thedisposition of his division, which, with detachments and garrisons, numbered nearly seventeen thousand men. His attention had long beenstrongly turned toward the liberation of east Tennessee, which he knewthat President Lincoln also earnestly desired, and which would, ifachieved, strike a most damaging blow at the resources of the rebellion. A Union army once in possession of east Tennessee would have theinestimable advantage, found nowhere else in the South, of operating inthe midst of a friendly population, and having at hand abundant suppliesof all kinds. Mitchel had no reason to believe that Corinth woulddetain the Union armies much longer than Fort Donelson had done, and wassatisfied that as soon as that position had been captured the nextmovement would be eastward toward Chattanooga, thus throwing his owndivision in advance. He determined, therefore, to press into the heartof the enemy's country as far as possible, occupying strategical pointsbefore they were adequately defended and assured of speedy and powerfulreinforcement. To this end his measures were vigorous and well chosen. 

On the 8th of April, 1862, --the day after the battle of PittsburgLanding, of which, however, Mitchel had received no intelligence, --hemarched swiftly southward from Shelbyville, and seized Huntsville inAlabama on the 11th of April, and then sent a detachment westward overthe Memphis and Charleston Railroad to open railway communication withthe Union army at Pittsburg Landing. Another detachment, commanded byMitchel in person, advanced on the same day seventy miles by raildirectly into the enemy's territory, arriving unchecked with twothousand men within thirty miles of Chattanooga, --in two hours' time hecould now reach that point, --the most important position in the West. Why did he not go on? The story of the railroad raid is the answer. Thenight before breaking camp at Shelbyville, Mitchel sent an expeditionsecretly into the heart of Georgia to cut the railroad communications ofChattanooga to the south and east. The fortune of this attempt had amost important bearing upon his movements, and will now be narrated. 

In the employ of General Buell was a spy named James J. Andrews, whohad rendered valuable services in the first year of the war, and hadsecured the full confidence of the Union commanders. In March, 1862, Buell had sent him secretly with eight men to burn the bridges west ofChattanooga; but the failure of expected coöperation defeated the plan, and Andrews, after visiting Atlanta, and inspecting the whole of theenemy's lines in that vicinity and northward, had returned, ambitious tomake another attempt. His plans for the second raid were submitted toMitchel, and on the eve of the movement from Shelbyville to HuntsvilleMitchel authorized him to take twenty-four men, secretly enter theenemy's territory, and, by means of capturing a train, burn the bridgeson the northern part of the Georgia State Railroad, and also one on theEast Tennessee Railroad where it approaches the Georgia State line, thuscompletely isolating Chattanooga, which was virtually ungarrisoned. 

[Illustration]

The soldiers for this expedition, of whom the writer was one, wereselected from the three Ohio regiments belonging to General J. W. Sill'sbrigade, being simply told that they were wanted for secret and verydangerous service. So far as known, not a man chosen declined theperilous honor. Our uniforms were exchanged for ordinary Southern dress, and all arms except revolvers were left in camp. On the 7th of April, bythe roadside about a mile east of Shelbyville, in the late eveningtwilight, we met our leader. Taking us a little way from the road, hequietly placed before us the outlines of the romantic and adventurousplan, which was: to break into small detachments of three or four, journey eastward into the Cumberland Mountains, then work southward, traveling by rail after we were well within the Confederate lines, andfinally the evening of the third day after the start, meet Andrews atMarietta, Georgia, more than two hundred miles away. When questioned, wewere to profess ourselves Kentuckians going to join the Southern army. 

On the journey we were a good deal annoyed by the swollen streams andthe muddy roads consequent on three days of almost ceaseless rain. Andrews was led to believe that Mitchel's column would be inevitablydelayed; and as we were expected to destroy the bridges the very daythat Huntsville was entered, he took the responsibility of sending wordto our different groups that our attempt would be postponed oneday--from Friday to Saturday, April 12. This was a natural but a mostlamentable error of judgment. 

One of the men detailed was belated, and did not join us at all. Twoothers were very soon captured by the enemy; and though their truecharacter was not detected, they were forced into the Southern army, andtwo reached Marietta, but failed to report at the rendezvous. Thus, when we assembled very early in the morning in Andrews's room at theMarietta Hotel for final consultation before the blow was struck we werebut twenty, including our leader. All preliminary difficulties had beeneasily overcome, and we were in good spirits. But some serious obstacleshad been revealed on our ride from Chattanooga to Marietta the previousevening. [3] The railroad was found to be crowded with trains, and manysoldiers were among the passengers. Then the station--Big Shanty--atwhich the capture was to be effected had recently been made aConfederate camp. To succeed in our enterprise it would be necessaryfirst to capture the engine in a guarded camp with soldiers standingaround as spectators, and then to run it from one to two hundred milesthrough the enemy's country, and to deceive or overpower all trains thatshould be met--a large contract for twenty men. Some of our partythought the chances of success so slight, under existing circumstances, that they urged the abandonment of the whole enterprise. But Andrewsdeclared his purpose to succeed or die, offering to each man, however, the privilege of withdrawing from the attempt--an offer no one was inthe least disposed to accept. Final instructions were then given, and wehurried to the ticket-office in time for the northward-bound mail-train, and purchased tickets for different stations along the line in thedirection of Chattanooga. 

[Footnote 3: The different detachments reached the Georgia StateRailroad at Chattanooga, and traveled as ordinary passengers on trainsrunning southward. --EDITOR. ]

Our ride, as passengers, was but eight miles. We swept swiftly aroundthe base of Kenesaw Mountain, and soon saw the tents of the Confederateforces camped at Big Shanty gleam white in the morning mist. Here wewere to stop for breakfast, and attempt the seizure of the train. Themorning was raw and gloomy, and a rain, which fell all day, had alreadybegun. It was a painfully thrilling moment. We were but twenty, with anarmy about us, and a long and difficult road before us, crowded withenemies. In an instant we were to throw off the disguise which had beenour only protection, and trust to our leader's genius and our ownefforts for safety and success. Fortunately we had no time for givingway to reflections and conjectures which could only unfit us for thestern task ahead. 

When we stopped, the conductor, the engineer, and many of the passengershurried to breakfast, leaving the train unguarded. Now was the moment ofaction. Ascertaining that there was nothing to prevent a rapid start, Andrews, our two engineers, Brown and Knight, and the firemen hurriedforward, uncoupling a section of the train consisting of three emptybaggage or box-cars, the locomotive, and the tender. The engineers andthe firemen sprang into the cab of the engine, while Andrews, with handon the rail and foot on the step, waited to see that the remainder ofthe party had gained entrance into the rear box-car. This seemeddifficult and slow, though it really consumed but a few seconds, for thecar stood on a considerable bank, and the first who came were pitched inby their comrades, while these in turn dragged in the others, and thedoor was instantly closed. A sentinel, with musket in hand, stood not adozen feet from the engine, watching the whole proceeding; but before heor any of the soldiers or guards around could make up their minds tointerfere all was done, and Andrews, with a nod to his engineer, steppedon board. The valve was pulled wide open, and for a moment the wheelsslipped round in rapid, ineffective revolutions; then, with a bound thatjerked the soldiers in the box-car from their feet, the little traindarted away, leaving the camp and the station in the wildest uproar andconfusion. The first step of the enterprise was triumphantlyaccomplished. 

According to the time-table, of which Andrews had secured a copy, therewere two trains to be met. These presented no serious hindrance to ourattaining high speed, for we could tell just where to expect them. Therewas also a local freight not down on the time-table, but which could notbe far distant. Any danger of collision with it could be avoided byrunning according to the schedule of the captured train until it waspassed; then at the highest possible speed we could run to theOostenaula and Chickamauga bridges, lay them in ashes, and pass onthrough Chattanooga to Mitchel at Huntsville, or wherever eastward ofthat point he might be found, arriving long before the close of the day. It was a brilliant prospect, and so far as human estimates can determineit would have been realized had the day been Friday instead of Saturday. Friday every train had been on time, the day dry, the road in perfectorder. Now the road was in disorder, every train far behind time, andtwo "extras" were approaching us. But of these unfavorable conditionswe knew nothing, and pressed confidently forward. 

We stopped frequently, and at one point tore up the track, cut telegraphwires, and loaded on cross-ties to be used in bridge-burning. Wood andwater were taken without difficulty, Andrews very coolly telling thestory to which he adhered throughout the run--namely, that he was one ofGeneral Beauregard's officers, running an impressed powder-train throughto that commander at Corinth. We had no good instruments fortrack-raising, as we had intended rather to depend upon fire; but theamount of time spent in taking up a rail was not material at this stageof our journey, as we easily kept on the time of our captured train. There was a wonderful exhilaration in passing swiftly by towns andstations through the heart of an enemy's country in this manner. Itpossessed just enough of the spice of danger, in this part of the run, to render it thoroughly enjoyable. The slightest accident to our engine, however, or a miscarriage in any part of our program, would havecompletely changed the conditions. 

At Etowah we found the "Yonah, " an old locomotive owned by an ironcompany, standing with steam up; but not wishing to alarm the enemy tillthe local freight had been safely met, we left it unharmed. Kingston, thirty miles from the starting-point, was safely reached. A train fromRome, Georgia, on a branch road, had just arrived and was waiting forthe morning mail--our train. We learned that the local freight wouldsoon come also, and, taking the side-track, waited for it. When itarrived, however, Andrews saw, to his surprise and chagrin, that itbore a red flag, indicating another train not far behind. Stepping overto the conductor, he boldly asked: "What does it mean that the road isblocked in this manner when I have orders to take this powder toBeauregard without a minute's delay?" The answer was interesting, butnot reassuring: "Mitchel has captured Huntsville, and is said to becoming to Chattanooga, and we are getting everything out of there. " Hewas asked by Andrews to pull his train a long way down the track out ofthe way, and promptly obeyed. 

It seemed an exceedingly long time before the expected "extra" arrived, and when it did come it bore another red flag. The reason given was thatthe "local, " being too great for one engine, had been made up in twosections, and the second section would doubtless be along in a shorttime. This was terribly vexatious; yet there seemed nothing to do but towait. To start out between the sections of an extra train would be tocourt destruction. There were already three trains around us, and theirmany passengers and others were all growing very curious about themysterious train, manned by strangers, which had arrived on the time ofthe morning mail. For an hour and five minutes from the time of arrivalat Kingston we remained in this most critical position. The sixteen ofus who were shut up tightly in a box-car, --personating Beauregard'sammunition, --hearing sounds outside, but unable to distinguish words, had perhaps the most trying position. Andrews sent us, by one of theengineers, a cautious warning to be ready to fight in case theuneasiness of the crowd around led them to make any investigation, while he himself kept near the station to prevent the sending off of anyalarming telegram. So intolerable was our suspense, that the order for adeadly conflict would have been felt as a relief. But the assurance ofAndrews quieted the crowd until the whistle of the expected train fromthe north was heard; then as it glided up to the depot, past the end ofour side-track, we were off without more words. 

But unexpected danger had arisen behind us. Out of the panic at BigShanty two men emerged, determined, if possible, to foil the unknowncaptors of their train. There was no telegraph station, and nolocomotive at hand with which to follow; but the conductor of the train, W. A. Fuller, and Anthony Murphy, foreman of the Atlanta railwaymachine-shops, who happened to be on board of Fuller's train, started onfoot after us as hard as they could run. Finding a hand-car they mountedit and pushed forward till they neared Etowah, where they ran on thebreak we had made in the road, and were precipitated down the embankmentinto the ditch. Continuing with more caution, they reached Etowah andfound the "Yonah, " which was at once pressed into service, loaded withsoldiers who were at hand, and hurried with flying wheels towardKingston. Fuller prepared to fight at that point, for he knew of thetangle of extra trains, and of the lateness of the regular trains, anddid not think we should be able to pass. We had been gone only fourminutes when he arrived and found himself stopped by three long, heavytrains of cars, headed in the wrong direction. To move them out of theway so as to pass would cause a delay he was little inclined toafford--would, indeed, have almost certainly given us the victory. So, abandoning his engine, he with Murphy ran across to the Rome train, and, uncoupling the engine and one car, pushed forward with about forty armedmen. As the Rome branch connected with the main road above the depot, heencountered no hindrance, and it was now a fair race. We were not manyminutes ahead. 

Four miles from Kingston we again stopped and cut the telegraph. Whiletrying to take up a rail at this point we were greatly startled. One endof the rail was loosened, and eight of us were pulling at it, when inthe distance we distinctly heard the whistle of a pursuing engine. Witha frantic effort we broke the rail, and all tumbled over the embankmentwith the effort. We moved on, and at Adairsville we found a mixed train(freight and passenger) waiting, but there was an express on the roadthat had not yet arrived. We could afford no more delay, and set out forthe next station, Calhoun, at terrible speed, hoping to reach that pointbefore the express, which was behind time, should arrive. The nine mileswhich we had to travel were left behind in less than the same number ofminutes. The express was just pulling out, but, hearing our whistle, backed before us until we were able to take the side-track. It stopped, however, in such a manner as completely to close up the other end of theswitch. The two trains, side by side, almost touched each other, and ourprecipitate arrival caused natural suspicion. Many searching questionswere asked, which had to be answered before we could get theopportunity of proceeding. We in the box-car could hear the altercation, and were almost sure that a fight would be necessary before theconductor would consent to "pull up" in order to let us out. Here againour position was most critical, for the pursuers were rapidlyapproaching. 

Fuller and Murphy saw the obstruction of the broken rail in time, byreversing their engine, to prevent wreck, but the hindrance was for thepresent insuperable. Leaving all their men behind, they started for asecond foot-race. Before they had gone far they met the train we hadpassed at Adairsville and turned it back after us. At Adairsville theydropped the cars, and with locomotive and tender loaded with armed men, they drove forward at the highest speed possible. They knew that we werenot many minutes ahead, and trusted to overhaul us before the expresstrain could be safely passed. 

But Andrews had told the powder story again with all his skill, andadded a direct request in peremptory form to have the way opened beforehim, which the Confederate conductor did not see fit to resist; and justbefore the pursuers arrived at Calhoun we were again under way. Stoppingonce more to cut wires and tear up the track, we felt a thrill ofexhilaration to which we had long been strangers. The track was nowclear before us to Chattanooga; and even west of that city we had goodreason to believe that we should find no other train in the way till wehad reached Mitchel's lines. If one rail could now be lifted we would bein a few minutes at the Oostenaula bridge; and that burned, the rest ofthe task would be little more than simple manual labor, with the enemyabsolutely powerless. We worked with a will. 

But in a moment the tables were turned. Not far behind we heard thescream of a locomotive bearing down upon us at lightning speed. The menon board were in plain sight and well armed. Two minutes--perhapsone--would have removed the rail at which we were toiling; then the gamewould have been in our own hands, for there was no other locomotivebeyond that could be turned back after us. But the most desperateefforts were in vain. The rail was simply bent, and we hurried to ourengine and darted away, while remorselessly after us thundered theenemy. 

Now the contestants were in clear view, and a race followed unparalleledin the annals of war. Wishing to gain a little time for the burning ofthe Oostenaula bridge, we dropped one car, and, shortly after, another;but they were "picked up" and pushed ahead to Resaca. We were obliged torun over the high trestles and covered bridge at that point without apause. This was the first failure in the work assigned us. 

The Confederates could not overtake and stop us on the road; but theiraim was to keep close behind, so that we might not be able to damage theroad or take in wood or water. In the former they succeeded, but not inthe latter. Both engines were put at the highest rate of speed. We wereobliged to cut the wire after every station passed, in order that analarm might not be sent ahead; and we constantly strove to throw ourpursuers off the track, or to obstruct the road permanently in some way, so that we might be able to burn the Chickamauga bridges, still ahead. The chances seemed good that Fuller and Murphy would be wrecked. Webroke out the end of our last box-car and dropped cross-ties on thetrack as we ran, thus checking their progress and getting far enoughahead to take in wood and water at two separate stations. Several timeswe almost lifted a rail, but each time the coming of the Confederateswithin rifle-range compelled us to desist and speed on. Our worsthindrance was the rain. The previous day (Friday) had been clear, with ahigh wind, and on such a day fire would have been easily andtremendously effective. But to-day a bridge could be burned only withabundance of fuel and careful nursing. 

Thus we sped on, mile after mile, in this fearful chase, round curvesand past stations in seemingly endless perspective. Whenever we lostsight of the enemy beyond a curve, we hoped that some of ourobstructions had been effective in throwing him from the track, and thatwe should see him no more; but at each long reach backward the smoke wasagain seen, and the shrill whistle was like the scream of a bird ofprey. The time could not have been so very long, for the terrible speedwas rapidly devouring the distance; but with our nerves strained to thehighest tension each minute seemed an hour. On several occasions theescape of the enemy from wreck was little less than miraculous. At onepoint a rail was placed across the track on a curve so skilfully that itwas not seen till the train ran upon it at full speed. Fuller says thatthey were terribly jolted, and seemed to bounce altogether from thetrack, but lighted on the rails in safety. Some of the Confederateswished to leave a train which was driven at such a reckless rate, buttheir wishes were not gratified. 

Before reaching Dalton we urged Andrews to turn and attack the enemy, laying an ambush so as to get into close quarters, that our revolversmight be on equal terms with their guns. I have little doubt that ifthis had been carried out it would have succeeded. But either because hethought the chance of wrecking or obstructing the enemy still good, orfeared that the country ahead had been alarmed by a telegram around theConfederacy by the way of Richmond, Andrews merely gave the plan hissanction without making any attempt to carry it into execution. 

Dalton was passed without difficulty, and beyond we stopped again to cutwires and to obstruct the track. It happened that a regiment wasencamped not a hundred yards away, but they did not molest us. Fullerhad written a despatch to Chattanooga, and dropped a man with orders tohave it forwarded instantly, while he pushed on to save the bridges. Part of the message got through and created a wild panic in Chattanooga, although it did not materially influence our fortunes. Our supply offuel was now very short, and without getting rid of our pursuers longenough to take in more, it was evident that we could not run as far asChattanooga. 

While cutting the wire we made an attempt to get up another rail; butthe enemy, as usual, were too quick for us. We had no tool for thispurpose except a wedge-pointed iron bar. Two or three bent iron clawsfor pulling out spikes would have given us such incontestablesuperiority that, down to almost the last of our run, we should havebeen able to escape and even to burn all the Chickamauga bridges. But ithad not been our intention to rely on this mode of obstruction--anemergency only rendered necessary by our unexpected delay and thepouring rain. 

We made no attempt to damage the long tunnel north of Dalton, as ourenemies had greatly dreaded. The last hope of the raid was now stakedupon an effort of a kind different from any that we had yet made, butwhich, if successful, would still enable us to destroy the bridgesnearest Chattanooga. But, on the other hand, its failure would terminatethe chase. Life and success were put upon one throw. 

A few more obstructions were dropped on the track, and our own speedincreased so that we soon forged a considerable distance ahead. The sideand end boards of the last car were torn into shreds, all available fuelwas piled upon it, and blazing brands were brought back from the engine. By the time we approached a long, covered bridge a fire in the car wasfairly started. We uncoupled it in the middle of the bridge, and withpainful suspense waited the issue. Oh for a few minutes till the work ofconflagration was fairly begun! There was still steam pressure enough inour boiler to carry us to the next wood-yard, where we could havereplenished our fuel by force, if necessary, so as to run as near toChattanooga as was deemed prudent. We did not know of the telegraphmessage which the pursuers had sent ahead. But, alas! the minutes werenot given. Before the bridge was extensively fired the enemy was uponus, and we moved slowly onward, looking back to see what they would donext. We had not long to conjecture. The Confederates pushed right intothe smoke, and drove the burning car before them to the next side-track. 

With no car left, and no fuel, the last scrap having thrown into theengine or upon the burning car, and with no obstruction to drop on thetrack, our situation was indeed desperate. A few minutes only remaineduntil our steed of iron which had so well served us would be powerless. 

But it might still be possible to save ourselves. If we left the trainin a body, and, taking a direct course toward the Union lines, hurriedover the mountains at right angles with their course, we could not, fromthe nature of the country, be followed by cavalry, and could easilytravel--athletic young men as we were, and fleeing for life--as rapidlyas any pursuers. There was no telegraph in the mountainous districtswest and northwest of us, and the prospect of reaching the Union linesseemed to me then, and has always since seemed, very fair. Confederatepursuers with whom I have since conversed freely have agreed on twopoints--that we could have escaped in the manner here pointed out, andthat an attack on the pursuing train would likely have been successful. But Andrews thought otherwise, at least in relation to the former plan, and ordered us to jump from the locomotive one by one, and, dispersingin the woods, each endeavor to save himself. Thus ended the Andrewsrailroad raid. 

It is easy now to understand why Mitchel paused thirty miles west ofChattanooga. The Andrews raiders had been forced to stop eighteen milessouth of the same town, and no flying train met him with the expectedtidings that all railroad communications of Chattanooga were destroyed, and that the town was in a panic and undefended. He dared advance nofarther without heavy reinforcements from Pittsburg Landing or thenorth; and he probably believed to the day of his death, six monthslater, that the whole Andrews party had perished without accomplishinganything. 

A few words will give the sequel to this remarkable enterprise. Therewas great excitement in Chattanooga and in the whole of the surroundingConfederate territory for scores of miles. The hunt for the fugitiveraiders was prompt, energetic, and completely successful. Ignorant ofthe country, disorganized, and far from the Union lines, they strove invain to escape. Several were captured the same day on which they leftthe cars, and all but two within a week. Even these two were overtakenand brought back when they supposed that they were virtually out ofdanger. Two of those who had failed to be on the train were identifiedand added to the band of prisoners. 

Now follows the saddest part of the story. Being in citizens' dresswithin an enemy's lines, the whole party were held as spies, and closelyand vigorously guarded. A court-martial was convened, and the leader andseven others out of the twenty-two were condemned and executed. Theremainder were never brought to trial, probably because of the advanceof Union forces, and the consequent confusion into which the affairs ofthe departments of east Tennessee and Georgia were thrown. Of theremaining fourteen, eight succeeded by a bold effort--attacking theirguard in broad daylight--in making their escape from Atlanta, Georgia, and ultimately in reaching the North. The other six who shared in thiseffort, but were recaptured, remained prisoners until the latter part ofMarch, 1863, when they were exchanged through a special arrangement madewith Secretary Stanton. All the survivors of this expedition receivedmedals and promotion. [4] The pursuers also received expressions ofgratitude from their fellow-Confederates, notably from the governor andthe legislature of Georgia. 

[Footnote 4: Below is a list of the participants in the raid:

James J. Andrews, [A] leader;William Campbell, [A] a civilian who volunteered to accompany the raiders;George D. Wilson, [A] Company B, 2d Ohio Volunteers;Marion A. Ross, [A] Company A, 2d Ohio Volunteers;Perry G. Shadrack, [A] Company K, 2d Ohio Volunteers;Samuel Slavens, [A] 33d Ohio Volunteers;Samuel Robinson, [A] Company G, 33d Ohio Volunteers;John Scott, [A] Company K, 21st Ohio Volunteers;Wilson W. Brown, [B] Company F, 21st Ohio Volunteers;William Knight, [B] Company E, 21st Ohio Volunteers;Mark Wood, [B] Company C, 21st Ohio Volunteers;James A. Wilson, [B] Company C, 21st Ohio Volunteers;John Wollam, [B] Company C, 33d Ohio Volunteers;D. A. Dorsey, [B] Company H, 33d Ohio Volunteers;Jacob Parrott, [C] Company K, 33d Ohio Volunteers;Robert Buffum, [C] Company H, 21st Ohio Volunteers;William Benzinger, [C] Company G, 21st Ohio Volunteers;William Reddick, [C] Company B, 33d Ohio Volunteers;E. H. Mason, [C] Company K, 21st Ohio Volunteers;William Pittenger, [C] Company G, 2d Ohio Volunteers. 

J. R. Porter, Company C, 21st Ohio, and Martin J. Hawkins, Company A, 33dOhio, reached Marietta, but did not get on board of the train. They werecaptured and imprisoned with their comrades. 

[A] Executed. [B] Escaped. [C] Exchanged. ]

MOSBY'S "PARTIZAN RANGERS"

BY A. E. RICHARDS

During the early stages of the war between the States, the ConfederateCongress enacted a statute known as the Partizan Ranger Act, whichprovided for independent bodies of cavalry to be organized as othergovernment troops. The officers were to be regularly commissioned andthe men to be paid like other soldiers. The distinctive features were, that the rangers should operate independently of the regular army and beentitled to the legitimate spoil captured from the enemy. 

While John S. Mosby was employed as a scout by General J. E. B. Stuart, hehad concluded that a command organized and operated as contemplated bythis act could do great damage to the enemy guarding that portion ofNorthern Virginia abandoned by the Confederate armies. But the partizanbranch of the service having been brought into disrepute by the worsethan futile efforts of others, his superior officers at first refusedhim permission to engage in so questionable an enterprise. Finally, however, General Stuart gave Mosby a detail of nine men from the regularcavalry with which to experiment. 

At that time the two main armies operating in Virginia were confrontingeach other near Fredericksburg. To protect their lines of communicationwith Washington, the Federals had stationed a considerable force acrossthe Potomac, with headquarters at Fairfax Court-house. They alsoestablished a complete cordon of pickets from a point on the river aboveWashington to a point below, thus encompassing many square miles ofVirginia territory. Upon these outposts Mosby commenced his operations. The size of his command compelled him to confine his attacks to thesmall details made nightly for picket duty. But he was so uniformlysuccessful that when the time came for him to report back to GeneralStuart, that officer was so pleased with the experiment that he allowedMosby to select fifteen men from his old regiment and return, for anindefinite period, to his chosen field of operations. 

His first exploits had been so noised abroad that the young men from theneighboring counties and the soldiers at home on furloughs would requestpermission to join in his raids. He could easily muster fifty of these, known as "Mosby's Conglomerates, " for any expedition. The opportunityfor developing his ideas of border warfare was thus presented. Withgreat vigor he renewed his attacks upon the Federal outposts. As arecognition of one of his successful exploits, the Confederategovernment sent him a captain's commission with authority to raise acompany of partizan rangers. The material for this was already at hand, and on June 10, 1862, he organized his first company. This was thenucleus around which he subsequently shaped his ideal command. The fameof his achievements had already spread throughout Virginia and Maryland, and attracted to his standard many kindred spirits from both States. Noconscripting was necessary. Those for whom this mode of warfarepossessed a charm would brave hardship and danger for the privilege ofenlisting under his banner. His recruits from Maryland, and many ofthose from Virginia, were compelled to pass through the Federal picketsin order to join his command. Yet great care had to be exercised in theselection of his men, and not every applicant was received. If anunworthy soldier procured admission, so soon as the mistake wasdiscovered he was sent under guard as a conscript to the regularservice. 

Mosby reserved the right to select all of his officers, who wereinvariably chosen from those who had already demonstrated their fitnessfor this particular service. It has been said of a great military herothat the surest proof of his genius was his skill in finding out geniusin others, and his promptness in calling it into action. Mosby, in hislimited sphere, displayed a similar talent, and to this faculty, almostas much as any one thing, may be attributed his success with hisenlarged command. When a sufficient number of men had enlisted to form anew company, he would have them drawn up in line and his adjutant wouldread to them the names of those selected for officers, with theannouncement that all who were not in favor of their election could stepout of the ranks and go to the regular service. Of course no one everleft. In order to comply with the law, the form of an election was thengone through with, and their commander's choice ratified. In no otherbody of troops were all the officers thus _unanimously_ elected. 

Mosby's command, as finally organized, consisted of eight companies ofcavalry and one of mounted artillery, officered by a colonel, alieutenant-colonel, and a major, with the usual complement of companyofficers. But the entire force was seldom combined. Instead of this, they would be divided into two or more detachments operating indifferent places. So it was not at all unusual for an attack to be madethe same night upon Sheridan's line of transportation in the valley, upon the pickets guarding the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, upon theoutposts in Fairfax County, and upon the rear of the army manoeuveringagainst Lee. This explains--what at the time seemed to many of thereaders of the Northern newspapers a mystery--how Mosby's men could bein so many different places at the same time. The safety and success ofthe Rangers were enhanced by these subdivisions, the Federals havingbecome so alert as to make it extremely difficult for a large commandeither to evade their pickets or manoeuver within their lines. Fromfifty to one hundred men were all that were usually marched together, and many of their most brilliant successes were achieved with even asmaller force. Mosby had only twenty men with him when he capturedBrigadier-General Edwin H. Stoughton. With these he penetrated the heartof the Federal camp, and carried off its commander. General Stoughtonwas in charge of an army of cavalry, infantry, and artillery, withheadquarters at Fairfax Court-house. One dark night in March, 1863, Mosby, with this small detachment, evaded the Federal pickets, passedthrough the sleeping army, and with their camp-fires gleaming allaround him, and their sentinels on duty, aroused their general from hisslumbers, and took him captive with thirty-seven of his comrades. 

But the novelty of Mosby's mode of warfare consisted chiefly in themanner of subsisting, quartering and protecting his men. The upperportion of Loudon and Fauquier counties, embracing a circuit of aboutthirty miles in diameter, was then known as "Mosby's Confederacy. " By aglance at the map it will be observed that it bordered upon the BlueRidge Mountains on the west, and the Bull Run Mountains on the east. Thevalley between is one of the richest, most beautiful, and highlycultivated in the State of Virginia. It was thickly inhabited with oldVirginia families, who were loyal and true to the Southern cause. Thesepeople received Mosby's men into their houses as their guests, andneither danger nor want could tempt their betrayal. Robin Hood's bandsought safety in the solitudes of Sherwood Forest, Marion's men secretedthemselves "in the pleasant wilds of Snow's Island" and other SouthCarolina swamps, but the Partizan Rangers of Virginia protectedthemselves by dispersing in an open country among a sympathizing people. They never established a camp; to have done so would have invitedcapture. Each soldier had his boarding-house, where he lived when offduty, as a member of the family. From these they would come, singly orin groups, bringing their rations with them to some designatedrendezvous, march rapidly to and from the point of attack, send theirprisoners under guard to the nearest Confederate post, divide the spoil, and disperse. If they were pursued by an overwhelming force as wasfrequently the case, the evening found them scattered to the four winds, where each man, mounted upon his own fleet steed, could protect himselffrom capture. If the Federals attempted to follow the chase in smallparties, the Rangers, from behind every hill and grove, wouldconcentrate and dash upon them. If they marched in solid column, theRangers would hang upon their flanks, firing upon them from behindtrees, fences, and hilltops. In this way, General Julius Stahel, who hadinvaded Mosby's Confederacy with two brigades of cavalry and four piecesof artillery for the avowed purpose of utterly demolishing the Rangers, was so annoyed that he retired, thoroughly disgusted with an enemy "whoonly fought when they got their foe at a disadvantage. "

As there were no civil officers commissioned by either party in all thatsection of Virginia, the people naturally turned to Mosby as their onlyrepresentative of law and order. It was not unusual for them to submittheir property controversies to him for decision. In this way heacquired a civil jurisdiction in connection with his militarydictatorship. Being a lawyer by profession, educated at the Universityof Virginia, his civil administration became as remarkable for itsprudence and justice as his military leadership was for magnanimity anddash. I heard an old citizen remark, "For two years Mosby was our ruler, and the country never was better governed. " He protected the people fromstragglers and deserters, who pillaged friend and foe alike. Everycaptured horse-thief was promptly executed. He required his own men totreat the citizens with fairness and courtesy, and any violation ofthis rule was punished by sending the offender to the regular service. Its observance was more easily enforced than would appear possible atfirst glance. The men were scarcely ever off duty, except for necessaryrest. The officers were then distributed among them, and by theirexample and authority controlled, when necessary, the deportment oftheir men. The citizens with whom they lived also exercised a healthyinfluence over them. These relations engendered many attachments thatran like golden threads through the soldier's life and outlived therough usages of war. 

It thus became no easy matter to drive the Rangers from a territory sodear to them, and in which they were befriended by all. On two occasionsthe entire Federal army operating against General Lee passed throughMosby's Confederacy, and yet his men did not abandon it. They hidthemselves in the mountains during the day, and descended upon the enemyat night. They thus observed every movement of the Federal army, and allvaluable information was promptly sent to the Confederate general. Onone of these occasions, June 17, 1863, Mosby found himself at teno'clock at night between the infantry and cavalry commands of GeneralHooker's army. Observing three horses hitched near a house, with anorderly standing by, he left his command with the prisoners alreadycaptured, and taking with him three men, rode up to the orderly and wasinformed by him that the horses belonged to Major William E. Sterlingand another officer. In a whisper he said to the orderly:

"My name is Mosby. Keep quiet!"

The man understood him to say that he (the orderly) was "Mosby, " andvery indignantly replied:

"No sir, I am as good a Union man as ever walked the earth. "

"Those are just the sort I am after, " said Mosby. 

Just then the two officers emerged from the house. As they approached, one of the Rangers stretched out his hand to disarm the major. Supposinghim to be an acquaintance, Major Sterling offered his hand in return, but was overwhelmed with surprise when informed that he was a prisoner. Upon examination he was found to be the bearer of important despatchesfrom General Hooker to his chief of cavalry, General Pleasonton. Thesedespatches, which developed the contemplated movements of the army anddirected the coöperation of the cavalry, were placed in General Stuart'shands by dawn of day. On this and many similar occasions informationfurnished by the Rangers proved invaluable to the Confederate generals. 

But furnishing information was not the most important service theyrendered. It has been fairly estimated that they detained on guard dutythirty thousand Federal soldiers, who otherwise might have been employedat the front. Even then the Federal lines of transportation wereconstantly being attacked, with more or less success. It was impossibleto protect them against such reckless activity as the Rangers wereconstantly displaying. No matter how vigilant the Federals were, Mosbywas sure to find an opportunity for attacking. Sometimes his successwould lie in the very boldness of the attempt. This was never morestrikingly illustrated than in one of his attacks upon Sheridan's lineof transportation. The Federal arm which had driven General Early up thevalley beyond Winchester was drawing its supplies over the turnpike fromHarper's Ferry. Mosby, taking a command of five companies of cavalry andtwo mountain howitzers, --numbering two hundred and fifty men, --passed atnight across the Blue Ridge, and fording the Shenandoah, halted a fewmiles below Berryville. Riding out to the turnpike, he discovered in hisimmediate front two large trains parked for the night--one going towardthe army loaded, the other returning empty. He determined to capture theformer, composed of one hundred and fifty wagons. At daybreak itcommenced to move, guarded by a brigade of infantry and two hundred andfifty cavalry. The train and its guard were soon strung along theturnpike. The cavalry rode on the flank near the center, a company ofinfantry marched in front of each tenth wagon, and the remaining forcewas distributed between the rear-and advance-guards. It was a brightsummer morning, and just as the sun was rising the Rangers marchedacross the open fields and halted about four hundred yards from theroad, and within full view of the moving train. Observing the Federalcavalry dismounted across the road a quarter of a mile to his left, Mosby sent two companies of his cavalry and one howitzer, with orders totake a position immediately opposite them and there await the signal ofattack, which was to be three shots fired from the howitzer left behind. This detachment did not halt until it was within seventy-five yards ofthe moving train. Of course the Federals observed all these manoeuvers, but were misled by their very boldness; they never imagined but whatthis new force was a part of their own army. So when the first shot, which fell short, was fired from the howitzer, several of their officersrode to the eminence not more than thirty steps in front of the detachedConfederate squadron, and lifting their glasses to their eyes, preparedto witness what they supposed to be artillery practice. Just then thesecond shell from the howitzer burst in the midst of their cavalry, who, supposing it had been fired in that direction through mistake, hastilyprepared to move beyond range. Immediately the rebel yell was raised, and the squadron dashed at the Federals, scattering them in everydirection, and capturing the officers with their glasses still in theirhands. Turning abruptly to the left, the Rangers charged along the road, riding over company after company of infantry until checked by a volleyfrom the advance-guard. At the same time another squadron had struck theturnpike immediately in front of their first position, and turning tothe right, had ridden down everything between them and the rear-guard. Then, with one howitzer playing upon the advance and the other upon therear-guard, the Rangers rapidly collected their prisoners, unhitched theteams, and burned the wagons. When reinforcements reached the Federalsthey deployed their skirmishers and advanced in line of battle, only tosee the Rangers riding over the hills in the distance, taking with themthree hundred prisoners, seven hundred mules and horses, and two hundredand thirty beef-cattle. But the rejoicing of the Rangers was almostturned into chagrin when they learned from the Northern papers that oneof the wagons from which they had taken the mules was loaded with aniron safe containing one million dollars to pay off the army. Uponreading it, Mosby dropped the paper with a sigh, exclaiming, "There's acool million gone after it was fairly earned! What other man couldsustain such losses with so little embarrassment?"

But this failure of the Rangers to secure their "earnings" did notalways attend them. Shortly after that they collected a sufficientamount of "dues" to enable them to determine upon greenbacks as thefuture currency of their Confederacy. It happened in this wise. Takingwith him seventy-five men, Mosby crossed, at an early hour of the night, in rear of Sheridan's army, and struck the Baltimore and Ohio Railroadabove Harper's Ferry, near Duffield Station. Here they prized up oneside of the track to a height of four feet, placing a secure foundationunder it. Soon the night express came rushing along. The engine upset, and the train came to a stand without serious injury to the passengers. Immediately the cars were boarded, and every one in Federal uniformcaptured. Among the prisoners were two paymasters, Majors Moore andRuggles, who had in a satchel and tin box $168, 000, in greenbacks, topay off the troops stationed along the road. Securing this rich booty, the Rangers burned the cars and repassed Sheridan's pickets before theday had dawned. The money was divided upon reaching their Confederacy, each man receiving something over two thousand dollars, Mosby takingnothing. 

Only the men who participated in a particular raid were allowed toshare in its spoil. The officer who commanded the expedition alwayscontrolled the distribution. It was seldom there was anything to divideexcept horses and their equipments. Those who had distinguishedthemselves in the fight were allowed the first choice as a reward fortheir gallantry, the shares of the others being divided by lot. Thissystem, by rewarding individual merit, encouraged a healthy rivalryamong the men, and at the same time removed all inducement to leave thefight for plunder. Often when a charge was ordered, a genuine horse-racefollowed, the swiftest steeds leading the way. 

In this manner the men were mounted and equipped without expense tothemselves or the Confederate Government. On the contrary, the armyquartermaster kept an agent in Mosby's Confederacy, to purchase from theRangers their surplus stock and arms. His standing price for a horse wasforty dollars in gold. But each Ranger retained two or more of the bestfor his own use. In this way they were always splendidly mounted. I onceheard a Federal officer say he was not surprised that Mosby's men rodesuch fine horses, as they had both armies to pick from. The cavalry wasarmed with pistols alone, of which each man carried at least two. Theirsuperiority over all other arms for this branch of the service wasfrequently demonstrated. It is a weapon that can be used with one hand, leaving the other to guide the horse. Cavalry is never really efficientunless trained to rush into close contact with the enemy. To see thewhites of their eyes is not sufficient; they must ride over the foe. Inthe rapid charge the carbine is not only useless, but a positiveincumbrance. The saber is comparatively harmless; it serves to frightenthe timid, but rarely ever deals a death-wound. Let two men encountereach other in the charge, one relying upon his pistol, the other uponhis saber, and the former, though an ordinary marksman, will almostinvariably get the better of his antagonist. The Rangers realized theiradvantage in this respect. It encouraged them to rush into closequarters, where the rapid discharge of their pistols soon told upon theenemy, no matter how bravely they had withstood the onset. I have seenthe victory decided alone by the superiority of the pistol over thesaber, where the opposing columns had crossed each other in the chargeand, wheeling, had mingled in the fight. 

But the Rangers were compelled to discard the carbine and the saber forother reasons than their inferiority in the hand-to-hand conflict. Itwas always their policy to take the enemy by surprise if possible. Theirfavorite plan was to wind their way through the Federal pickets duringthe night, and make the attack at break of day. The rattling of thecarbine and saber would have made it impossible to execute thesemovements with the silence necessary to success. To the uninitiated itwould be surprising to see with what noiseless secrecy these manoeuverscould be accomplished. Only whispered commands were necessary from theofficers, and the presence of danger insured silence in the ranks. Thissilence, which was observed so long as silence was proper, served tomake the charge, with its shout and its cheer, the more terrible to thefoe. 

But it must not be imagined the Rangers were always successful. Theywere themselves sometimes surprised, sometimes repulsed. Nothing elsecould be expected from almost daily encounters in a country abandoned tothe enemy. There were occasions when they were saved from total ruinonly by their knowledge of the country and the swiftness of theirsteeds. 

A ROMANCE OF MORGAN'S ROUGH-RIDERS

THE RAID, THE CAPTURE, AND THE ESCAPE

I. THE RAID

BY BASIL W. DUKE

In the summer of 1863, when, at Tullahoma, Tennessee, General Bragg'sarmy was menaced by superior numbers in flank and rear, he determined tosend a body of cavalry into Kentucky, which should operate uponRosecrans's communications between Nashville and Louisville, break therailroads, capture or threaten all the minor depots of supplies, intercept and defeat all detachments not too strong to be engaged, andkeep the enemy so on the alert in his own rear that he would lose orneglect his opportunity to embarrass or endanger the march of the armywhen its retrograde movement began. He even hoped that a part of thehostile forces before him might be thus detained long enough to preventtheir participation in the battle which he expected to fight when hecrossed the Tennessee. 

The officer whom he selected to accomplish this diversion was GeneralJohn H. Morgan, whose division of mounted riflemen was well fitted forthe work in hand. Equal in courage, dash, and discipline to the otherfine cavalry commands which General Bragg had at his disposal, it hadpassed a longer apprenticeship in expeditionary service than had anyother. Its rank and file was of that mettle which finds its naturalelement in active and audacious enterprise, and was yet thrilled withthe fire of youth; for there were few men in the division overtwenty-five years of age. It was imbued with the spirit of itscommander, and confided in his skill and fortune; no endeavor was deemedimpossible or even hazardous when he led. It was inured to constant, almost daily, combat with the enemy, of all arms and under everypossible contingency. During its four years of service the 2d KentuckyCavalry, of which General Morgan was the first colonel, lost sixty-threecommissioned officers killed and wounded; Company A of that regiment, ofwhich Morgan was the first captain, losing during the war seventy-fivemen killed. It had on its muster-roll, from first to last, nearly twohundred and fifty men. The history of this company and regiment wasscarcely exceptional in the command. 

[Illustration: GENERAL JOHN H. MORGAN. ]

Morgan was beyond all men adapted to independent command of this nature. His energy never flagged, and his invention was always equal to theemergency. Boldness and caution were united in all that he undertook. He had a most remarkable aptitude for promptly acquiring a knowledge ofany country in which he was operating; and as he kept it, so to speak, "in his head, " he was enabled easily to extricate himself fromdifficulties. The celerity with which he marched, the promptness withwhich he attacked or eluded a foe, intensified the confidence of hisfollowers, and kept his antagonists always in doubt and apprehension. 

[Illustration: Map]

In his conference with General Bragg, Morgan differed with his chiefregarding the full effect of a raid that should not be extended beyondthe Ohio. General Bragg desired it to be confined to Kentucky. He gaveMorgan _carte blanche_ to go where he pleased in that State and stay aslong as he pleased; suggesting, among other things, that he captureLouisville. Morgan urged that while by such a raid he might so divert tohimself the attention of General Henry M. Judah and the cavalry ofRosecrans that they would not molest General Bragg's retreat, he coulddo nothing, in this way, in behalf of the other equally importantfeature of the plan--the detention of troops that would otherwisestrengthen Rosecrans in the decisive battle to be fought south of theTennessee. He contended, moreover, that a raid into Indiana and Ohio, the more especially as important political elections were pending there, would cause troops to be withdrawn from Rosecrans and Burnside for theprotection of those States. But General Bragg refused permission tocross the Ohio, and instructed Morgan to make the raid as originallydesigned. 

[Illustration: THE MORGAN RAID. 

_JULY 1863. _]

Some weeks previous to this conference, by Morgan's direction I had sentcompetent men to examine the fords of the upper Ohio. He had even thencontemplated such an expedition. It had long been his conviction thatthe Confederacy could maintain the struggle only by transferringhostilities and waging war, whenever opportunity offered, on Northernsoil. Upon his return from this interview he told me what had beendiscussed, and what were General Bragg's instructions. He said that hemeant to disobey them; that the emergency, he believed, justifieddisobedience. He was resolved to cross the Ohio River and invade Indianaand Ohio. His command would probably be captured, he said; but in noother way could he give substantial aid to the army. General Bragg haddirected Morgan to detail two thousand men for the expedition. From thetwo brigades commanded respectively by myself and Colonel Adam R. Johnson, Morgan selected twenty-four hundred and sixty of thebest-mounted and most effective. He took with him four pieces ofartillery--two 3-inch Parrotts, attached to the First Brigade, and two12-pounder howitzers, attached to the Second. 

I should state that Morgan had thoroughly planned the raid before hemarched from Tennessee. He meant to cross the Cumberland in the vicinityof Burkesville, and to march directly across Kentucky to the nearestpoint at which he could reach the Ohio west of Louisville, so closelyapproaching Louisville as to compel belief that he meant to attempt itscapture. Turning to the right after entering Indiana, and marching asnearly due east as possible, he would reduce to a minimum the distancenecessary to be covered, and yet threaten and alarm the population ofthe two States as completely as by penetrating deeply into them; moreso, indeed, for pursuing this line he would reach the immediate vicinityof Cincinnati and excite fears for the safety of that city. While heintended to prolong the raid to the uttermost, he proposed to be at notime far from the Ohio, so that he might avail himself of an opportunityto recross. On reaching the borders of Pennsylvania, he intended, ifGeneral Lee should be in that State, to make every effort to join him;failing in that, to make his escape through West Virginia. Informationhe had gotten about the fords of the upper Ohio had induced him toindicate Buffington's Island as the point where he would attempt torecross that stream. He deemed the passage of the Cumberland one of thefour chief difficulties of the expedition that might prove reallydangerous and insuperable; the other three were the passage of the Ohio, the circuit around Cincinnati, and the recrossing of the Ohio. 

Before noon on the 2d of July my brigade began to cross the Cumberlandat Burkesville and at Scott's Ferry, two miles higher up the stream. Theriver, swollen by heavy and long-continued rains, was pouring down avolume of water which overspread its banks and rushed with a velocitythat seemed to defy any attempt to stem it. Two or three canoes lashedtogether and two small flats served to transport the men and thefield-pieces, while the horses were made to swim. Many of them wereswept far down by the boiling flood. This process was necessarily slow, as well as precarious. Colonel Johnson, whose brigade was crossing atTurkey Neck Bend, several miles below Burkesville, was scarcely so wellprovided with the means of ferriage as myself. About 3 P. M. The enemybegan to threaten both brigades. Had these demonstrations been madeearlier, and vigorously, we could have gotten over the river. Fortunately by this time we had taken over the 6th Kentucky and 9thTennessee of my brigade--aggregating nearly six hundred men--and alsothe two pieces of artillery. These regiments were moved beyondBurkesville and placed in a position which served all the purposes of anambuscade. When the enemy approached, one or two volleys caused hiscolumn to recoil in confusion. General Morgan instantly charged it withQuirk's scouts and some companies of the 9th Tennessee, and not onlyprevented it from rallying, but drove it all the way back to Marrowbone, entering the encampment there with the troops he was pursuing in apell-mell dash. He was soon driven back, however, by the enemy'sinfantry and artillery. 

The effect of this blow was to keep the enemy quiet for the rest of theday and night. The forces threatening Colonel Johnson were alsowithdrawn, and we both accomplished the passage of the river withoutfurther molestation. That night the division marched out on the Columbiaroad and encamped about two miles from Burkesville. On the next dayJudah concentrated the three brigades of his cavalry command in thatregion, while orders were sent to all the other Federal detachments inKentucky to close in upon our line of march. 

General Bragg had sent with the expedition a large party of commissariesof subsistence, who were directed to collect cattle north of theCumberland and drive them, guarded by one of our regiments, toTullahoma. I have never understood how he expected us to be able, underthe circumstances, to collect the cattle, or the foragers to drive themout. The commissaries did not attempt to carry out their instructions, but followed us the entire distance and pulled up in prison. They weregallant fellows and made no complaint of danger or hardship, seemingrather to enjoy it. 

[Illustration: THE FARMER FROM CALFKILLER CREEK. ]

There was one case, however, which excited universal pity. An old farmerand excellent man, who lived near Sparta, had accompanied us toBurkesville; that is, he meant to go no farther, and thought we wouldnot. He wished to procure a barrel of salt, as the supply of thatcommodity was exhausted in his part of the country. He readily purchasedthe salt, but learned, to his consternation, that the march toBurkesville was a mere preliminary canter. He was confronted with thealternative of going on a dangerous raid or of returning alone through aregion swarming with the fierce bushwhackers of "Tinker Dave" Beattie, who never gave quarter to Confederate soldier or Southern sympathizer. He knew that if he fell into their hands they would pickle him with hisown salt. So this old man sadly yet wisely resolved to follow thefortunes of Morgan. He made the grand tour, was hurried along day afterday through battle and ambush, dragged night after night on theremorseless march, ferried over the broad Ohio under fire of the militiaand gunboats, and lodged at last in a "loathsome dungeon. " On oneoccasion, in Ohio, when the home guards were peppering us in ratherlivelier fashion than usual, he said to Captain C. H. Morgan, with tearsin his voice: "I sw'ar if I wouldn't give all the salt in Kaintucky tostand once more safe and sound on the banks of Calfkiller Creek. "

[Illustration]

Pushing on before dawn of the 3d, we reached Columbia in the afternoon. The place was occupied by a detachment of Colonel Frank Wolford'sbrigade, which was quickly driven out. Encamping that evening some eightmiles from Columbia, we could hear all night the ringing of the axesnear Green River bridge, on the road from Columbia to Campbellsville. Three or four hundred of the 25th Michigan Infantry were stationed atthe bridge to protect it; but the commander, Colonel Orlando H. Moore, deliberately quitting the elaborate stockade erected near thebridge, --in which nine officers out of ten would have remained, butwhere we could have shelled him into surrender without losing a manourselves, --selected one of the strongest natural positions I ever saw, and fortified it skilfully although simply. The Green River makes herean immense horseshoe sweep, with the bridge at the toe of the horseshoe;and more than a mile south of it was the point where Colonel Mooreelected to make his fight. The river there wound back so nearly upon itsprevious course that the peninsula, or "neck, " was scarcely a hundredyards wide. This narrow neck was also very short, the river bendingalmost immediately to the west again. At that time it was thicklycovered with trees and undergrowth, and Colonel Moore, felling theheaviest timber, had constructed a formidable abatis across thenarrowest part of it. Just in front of the abatis there was open groundfor perhaps two hundred yards. South of the open was a deep ravine. Theroad ran on the east side of the cleared place, and the banks of theriver were high and precipitous. The center of the open space rose intoa swell, sloping gently away both to the north and south. On the crestof the swell Moore had thrown up a slight earthwork, which was mannedwhen we approached. An officer was promptly despatched with a flag todemand his surrender. Colonel Moore responded that an officer of theUnited States ought not to surrender on the Fourth of July, and he musttherefore decline. Captain "Ed" Byrne had planted one of the Parrottguns about six hundred yards from the earthwork, and on the return ofthe bearer of the flag opened fire, probing the work with a round shot. One man in the trench was killed by this shot, and the others ran backto the abatis. 

Colonel Johnson, whose brigade was in advance, immediately dashedforward with the 3d and 11th Kentucky to attack the main position. Artillery could not be used, for the guns could bear upon the abatisonly from the crest of which I have spoken, and if posted there thecannoneers, at the very short range, would not have been able to servetheir pieces. The position could be won only by direct assault. The menrushed up to the fallen timber, but became entangled in the network oftrunks and branches, and were shot down while trying to climb over orpush through them. I reinforced Johnson with a part of Smith's regiment, the 5th Kentucky, but the jam and confusion incident to moving in socircumscribed an area and through the dense undergrowth broke the forceof the charge. The enemy was quite numerous enough to defend a line soshort and strong and perfectly protected on both flanks. We had not morethan six hundred men actually engaged, and the fighting lasted notlonger than fifteen or twenty minutes. Our loss was about ninety, nearlyas many killed as wounded. Afterward we learned that Colonel Moore'sloss was six killed and twenty-three wounded. When General Morganordered the attack he was not aware of the strength of the position; norhad he anticipated a resistance so spirited and so skilfully planned. Hereluctantly drew off without another assault, convinced that to capturethe abatis and its defenders would cost him half his command. Among thekilled were Colonel D. W. Chenault and Captain Alexander Treble of the11th Kentucky, Lieutenant Robert Cowan of the 3d, and Major Thomas Y. Brent, Jr. , and Lieutenants Holloway and Ferguson of the 5th. Theseofficers were all killed literally at the muzzles of the rifles. 

Colonel Moore's position might easily have been avoided; indeed, wepassed around it immediately afterward, crossing the river at a fordabout two miles below the bridge. Morgan assailed it merely inaccordance with his habitual policy when advancing of attacking all inhis path except very superior forces. 

On the same afternoon Captain William M. Magenis, assistantadjutant-general of the division, a valuable officer, was murdered by aCaptain Murphy, whom he had placed under arrest for robbing a citizen. Murphy made his escape from the guard two or three days subsequently, just as the court-martial which was to have tried him was convening. 

On the morning of July 5th the column reached Lebanon, which wasgarrisoned by the 20th Kentucky Infantry, commanded by Colonel CharlesS. Hanson. The 8th and 9th Michigan Cavalry and the 11th MichiganBattery, under command of Colonel James I. David, were approaching bythe Danville road to reinforce the garrison, necessitating a largedetachment to observe them. Morgan's demand for surrender having beenrefused, artillery fire was directed upon the railroad depot and otherbuildings in which the enemy had established himself; but, as theFederals endured it with great firmness, it became necessary to carrythe town by assault. Our loss was some forty in killed and wounded, including several excellent officers. One death universally deplored wasthat of the General's brother, Lieutenant Thomas H. Morgan. He was abright, handsome, and very gallant lad of nineteen, the favorite of thedivision. He was killed in front of the 2d Kentucky in the charge uponthe depot. The Federal loss was three killed and sixteen wounded, andthree hundred and eighty were prisoners. 

Without delay we passed through Springfield and Bardstown, crossing theLouisville and Nashville Railroad at Lebanon Junction, thirty miles fromLouisville, on the evening of the 6th. At Springfield two companies ofabout ninety men were sent toward Harrodsburg and Danville to occupy theattention of the Federal cavalry in that quarter. From Bardstown, Captain W. C. Davis, acting assistant adjutant-general of the FirstBrigade, was sent with a detachment of one hundred and thirty men toscout in the vicinity of Louisville, to produce the impression that thecity was about to be attacked, and to divert attention from the passageof the Ohio by the main body at Brandenburg. He was instructed to crossthe river somewhere east of Louisville and to rejoin the column on itsline of march through Indiana. He executed the first part of the programperfectly, but was unable to get across the river. Tapping the wires atLebanon Junction, we learned from intercepted despatches that thegarrison at Louisville was much alarmed, and in expectation of animmediate attack. 

The detachments I have just mentioned, with some smaller ones previouslysent off on similar service, aggregated not less than two hundred andsixty men permanently separated from the division; which, with a loss inkilled and wounded, in Kentucky, of about one hundred and fifty, hadreduced our effective strength at the Ohio, by more than four hundred. 

The rapid and constant marching already began to tell upon both horsesand men, but we reached the Ohio at Brandenburg at 9 A. M. On the 8th. Captains Samuel Taylor and H. C. Meriwether of the 10th Kentucky had beensent forward the day before, with their companies, to capturesteamboats. We found them in possession of two large craft. One had beensurprised at the wharf, and steaming out on her, they had captured theother. Preparations for crossing were begun; but, just as the first boatwas about to push off, an unexpected musketry fire was opened from theIndiana side by a party of home-guards collected behind some houses andhaystacks. They were in pursuit of Captain Thomas H. Hines, who had thatmorning returned from Indiana to Kentucky, after having undertaken abrief expedition of his own. This fire did no harm, the river here beingeight hundred or a thousand yards wide. But in a few minutes the brightgleam of a field-piece spouted through the low-hanging mist on thefarther bank. Its shell pitched into a group near the wharf, severelywounding Captain W. H. Wilson, acting quartermaster of the First Brigade. Several shots from this piece followed in quick succession, but it wassilenced by Lieutenant Lawrence with his Parrotts. The 2d Kentucky and9th Tennessee were speedily ferried over without their horses, andforming under the bluff they advanced upon the militia, which hadretired to a wooded ridge some six hundred yards from the river-bank, abandoning the gun. The two regiments were moving across some openground, toward the ridge, sustaining no loss from the volleys fired atthem, and the boats had scarcely returned for further service when amore formidable enemy appeared. A gunboat, the _Elk_, steamed rapidlyround the bend, and began firing alternately upon the troops in the townand those already across. The situation was now extremely critical. Wecould not continue the ferriage while this little vixen remained, forone well-directed shot would have sent either of the boats to thebottom. Delay was exceedingly hazardous, affording the enemy opportunityto cut off the regiments we had already sent over, and giving thecavalry in pursuit of us time to come up. If forced to give up theattempt to cross the river, we must also abandon our comrades on theother side. So every piece of artillery was planted and opened on thegunboat, and after an hour or two of vigorous cannonading she was drivenoff. By midnight all our troops were over. 

[Illustration]

About noon of the 9th the column reached the little town of Corydon, Indiana, which proved not nearly so gentle as its name. Ouradvance-guard, commanded by Colonel R. C. Morgan, found a body of militiathere, ensconced behind stout barricades of fence rails, stretching forsome distance on each side of the road. Colonel Morgan charged thebarricade, his horses could not leap it, the militia stood resolutely, and he lost sixteen men. A few dismounted skirmishers thrown upon theflanks, and a shot or two from one of the pieces which accompanied theadvance-guard, quickly dispersed them, however, and we entered the townwithout further resistance. 

Our progress, quite rapid in Kentucky, was now accelerated, and we werehabitually twenty-one hours out of the twenty-four in the saddle, veryfrequently not halting at night or going into camp at all. For the firstthree or four days we saw nothing of the inhabitants save in theircharacter as militia, when they forced themselves on our attention muchmore frequently than we desired. The houses were entirely deserted. Often we found the kitchen fire blazing, the keys hanging in thecupboard lock, and the chickens sauntering about the yard with aconfidence which proved that they had never before seen soldiers. 

As the first scare wore off, however, we found the women and childrenremaining at home, while the men went to the muster. When a thirstycavalryman rode up to a house to inquire for buttermilk, he wasgenerally met by a buxom dame, with a half-dozen or more small childrenpeeping out from her voluminous skirts, who, in response to a questionabout the "old man, " would say: "The men hev all gone to the 'rally';you'll see 'em soon. " We experienced little difficulty in procuring foodfor man and horse. Usually upon our raids it was much easier to obtainmeat than bread. But in Indiana and Ohio we always found bread readybaked at every house. In Ohio, on more than one occasion, in desertedhouses we found pies, hot from the oven, displayed upon tablesconveniently spread. The first time that I witnessed this sort ofhospitality was when I rode up to a house where a party of my men werestanding around a table garnished as I have described, eyeing the pieshungrily, but showing no disposition to touch them. I asked, inastonishment, why they were so abstinent. One of them replied that theyfeared the pies might be poisoned. I was quite sure, on the contrary, that they were intended as a propitiatory offering. I have always beenfond of pies, --these were of luscious apples, --so I made the spokesmanhand me one of the largest, and proceeded to eat it. The men watched mevigilantly for two or three minutes, and then, as I seemed much betterafter my repast, they took hold ravenously. 

The severe marching made an exchange of horses a necessity, though as arule the horses we took were very inferior to the Kentucky and Tennesseestock we had brought with us, and which had generally a large infusionof thoroughbred blood. The horses we impressed were for the most partheavy, sluggish beasts, barefooted and grass-fed, and gave out after aday or two, sometimes in a few hours. A strong provost guard, underMajor Steele of the 3d Kentucky, had been organized to prevent the twopractices most prejudicial to discipline and efficiency--straggling andpillage. There were very good reasons, independent of the provost guard, why the men should not straggle far from the line of march; but thewell-filled stores and gaudy shop-windows of the Indiana and Ohio townsseemed to stimulate, in men accustomed to impoverished and unpretentiousDixie, the propensity to appropriate beyond limit or restraint. I hadnever before seen anything like this disposition to plunder. Ourperilous situation only seemed to render the men more reckless. At thesame time, anything more ludicrous than the manner in which theyindulged their predatory tastes can scarcely be imagined. The weatherwas intensely warm, --the hot July sun burned the earth to powder, and wewere breathing superheated dust, --yet one man rode for three days withseven pairs of skates slung about his neck; another loaded himself withsleigh-bells. A large chafing-dish, a medium-sized Dutch clock, a greenglass decanter with goblets to match, a bag of horn buttons, achandelier, and a bird-cage containing three canaries were some of thearticles I saw borne off and jealously fondled. The officers usuallywaited a reasonable period, until the novelty had worn off, and then hadthis rubbish thrown away. Baby shoes and calico, however, were thestaple articles of appropriation. A fellow would procure a bolt ofcalico, carry it carefully for a day or two, then cast it aside and getanother. 

From Corydon our route was _via_ Salem, Vienna, Lexington, Paris, Vernon, Dupont, and Sumanville to Harrison, near the Ohio State line andtwenty-five miles from Cincinnati. Detachments were sent to Madison, Versailles, and other points, to burn bridges, bewilder and confusethose before and behind us, and keep bodies of military stationary thatmight otherwise give trouble. All were drawn in before we reachedHarrison. At this point Morgan began demonstrations intended to conveythe impression that he would cross the Cincinnati, Hamilton, and DaytonRailroad at Hamilton. He had always anticipated difficulty in gettingover this road; fearing that the troops from Kentucky would beconcentrated at or near Cincinnati, and that every effort would be madeto intercept him there. If these troops lined the railroad and werejudiciously posted, he knew it would be extremely difficult to eludethem or cut his way through them. He believed that if he could pass thisordeal safely, the success of the expedition would be assured, unlessthe river should be so high that the boats would be able to transporttroops to intercept him at the upper fords. 

After remaining at Harrison two or three hours, and sending detachmentsin the direction of Hamilton, he moved with the entire column on theHamilton road. But as soon as he was clear of the town, he cut thetelegraph-wires--previously left intact with the hope that they might beused to convey intelligence of his apparent movement towardHamilton--and, turning across the country, gained the direct road toCincinnati. He hoped that, deceived by his demonstrations at Harrison, the larger part of the troops at Cincinnati would be sent to Hamilton, and that it would be too late to recall them when his movement towardCincinnati was discovered. He trusted that those remaining would bedrawn into the city, under the impression that he meant to attack, leaving the way clear for his rapid transit. He has been criticized fornot attempting the capture of Cincinnati, but he had no mind to involvehis handful of wearied men in a labyrinth of streets. We felt very muchmore at home amid rural surroundings. But if he had taken Cincinnati, and had safely crossed the river there, the raid would have been so muchbriefer, and its principal object to that extent defeated by therelease of the troops pursuing us. 

[Illustration: LOOKING FOR THE FOOTPRINTS OF THE VAN. ]

We reached the environs of Cincinnati about ten o'clock at night, andwere not clear of them until after daybreak. My brigade was marching inthe rear, and the guides were with General Morgan in the front. Thecontinual straggling of some companies in the rear of Johnson's brigadecaused me to become separated from the remainder of the column by a widegap, and I was for some time entirely ignorant of what direction Ishould take. The night was pitch-dark, and I was compelled to lighttorches and seek the track of the column by the foam dropped from themouths of the horses and the dust kicked up by their feet. At every haltwhich this groping search necessitated, scores of tired men would fallasleep and drop out of their saddles. Daylight appeared after we hadcrossed all of the principal suburban roads, and were near the LittleMiami Railroad. I never welcomed the fresh, invigorating air of morningmore gratefully. That afternoon we reached Williamsburg, twenty-eightmiles east of Cincinnati. 

The Ohio militia were more numerous and aggressive than those ofIndiana. We had frequent skirmishes with them daily, and althoughhundreds were captured, they resumed operations as soon as they wereturned loose. What excited in us more astonishment than all else we sawwere the crowds of able-bodied men. The contrast with the South, drainedof adult males to recruit her armies, was striking, and suggestive ofanything but confidence on our part in the result of the struggle. 

At Piketon we learned that Vicksburg had fallen, and that General Lee, having been repulsed at Gettysburg, had retreated across the Potomac. Under the circumstances this information was peculiarly disheartening. As we approached Pomeroy the militia began to embarrass our march byfelling trees and erecting barricades across the roads. In passing nearthat town we were assailed by regular troops, --as we called thevolunteers, in contradistinction to the militia, --and forced a passageonly by some sharp fighting. At 1 P. M. On the 18th we reached Chester, eighteen miles from Buffington's Island. A halt here of nearly two hoursproved disastrous, as it caused us to arrive at the river afternightfall, and delayed any attempt at crossing until the next morning. Morgan thoroughly appreciated the importance of crossing the river atonce, but it was impossible. The darkness was intense, we were ignorantof the ford and without guides, and were encumbered with nearly twohundred wounded, whom we were unwilling to abandon. By instruction Iplaced the 5th and 6th Kentucky in position to attack, as soon as daybroke, an earthwork commanding the ford, and which we learned wasmounted with two guns and manned by three hundred infantry. At dawn Imoved upon the work, and found it had been evacuated and the guns thrownover the bluff. Pressing on a few hundred yards to reconnoiter thePomeroy road, we suddenly encountered the enemy. It proved to be GeneralJudah's advance. The 5th and 6th Kentucky instantly attacked anddispersed it, taking a piece of artillery and forty or fifty prisoners, inflicting some loss in killed and wounded. 

The position in which we found ourselves, now that we had light enoughto examine the ground, was anything but favorable. The valley we hadentered, about a mile long and perhaps eight hundred yards wide at itssouthern extremity, --the river running here nearly due north andsouth, --gradually narrows, as the ridge which is its western boundaryclosely approaches the river-bank, until it becomes a mere ravine. TheChester road enters the valley at a point about equidistant from eitherend. As the 5th Kentucky fell back that it might be aligned on the 6thKentucky, across the southern end of the valley, into which Judah'swhole force was now pouring, it was charged by the 8th and 9th Michiganand a detachment of the 5th Indiana. A part of the 5th Kentucky was cutoff by this charge, the gun we had taken was recaptured, and ourParrotts also fell into the hands of the enemy. They were so cloggedwith dust, however, as to be almost unserviceable, and their ammunitionwas expended. Bringing up a part of the 2d Kentucky, I succeeded inchecking and driving back the regiments that first bore down on us, butthey were quickly reinforced and immediately returned to the attack. Inthe mean time Colonel Johnson's videttes on the Chester road had beendriven in, and the cavalry under Hobson, which had followed usthroughout our long march, deployed on the ridge, and attacked on thatside. I sent a courier to General Morgan, advising that he retreat upthe river and out of the valley with all the men he could extricate, while Colonel Johnson and I, with the troops already engaged, wouldendeavor to hold the enemy in check. The action was soon hot from bothdirections, and the gunboats, steaming up the river abreast of us, commenced shelling vigorously. We were now between three assailants. Asharp artillery fire was opened by each, and the peculiar formation wewere compelled to adopt exposed us to a severe cross-fire of small arms. 

We were in no condition to make a successful or energetic resistance. The men were worn out and demoralized by the tremendous march, and thefatigue and lack of sleep for the ten days that had elapsed since theyhad crossed the Ohio. Having had no opportunity to replenish theircartridge-boxes, they were almost destitute of ammunition, and afterfiring two or three rounds were virtually unarmed. To this fact isattributable the very small loss our assailants sustained. Broken downas we were, if we had been supplied with cartridges we could have piledthe ground with Judah's men as they advanced over the open plain intothe valley. As the line, seeking to cover the withdrawal of the troopstaken off by General Morgan, was rolled back by the repeated charges ofthe enemy, the stragglers were rushing wildly about the valley, withbolts of calico streaming from their saddles, and changing directionwith every shrieking shell. When the rear-guard neared the northern endof the valley, --out of which General Morgan with the greater part of thecommand had now passed, --and perceived that the only avenue of escapewas through a narrow gorge, a general rush was made for it. The Michiganregiments dashed into the mass of fugitives, and the gunboats swept thenarrow pass with grape. All order lost in a wild tide of flight. 

About seven hundred were captured here, and perhaps a hundred and twentykilled and wounded. Probably a thousand men got out with General Morgan. Of these some three hundred succeeded in swimming the river at a pointtwenty miles above Buffington, while many were drowned in the attempt. The arrival of the gunboats prevented others from crossing. GeneralMorgan had gotten nearly over, when, seeing that the bulk of his commandmust remain on the Ohio side, he returned. For six more days Morgantaxed energy and ingenuity to the utmost to escape the toils. Absolutelyexhausted, he surrendered near the Pennsylvania line, on the 26th day ofJuly, with three hundred and sixty-four men. 

The expedition was of immediate benefit, since a part of the forces thatwould otherwise have harassed Bragg's retreat and swollen Rosecrans'smuster-roll at Chickamauga were carried by the pursuit of Morgan so farnorthward that they were kept from participating in that battle. 

But Morgan's cavalry was almost destroyed, and his prestige impaired. Much the larger number of the captured men lingered in the Northernprisons until the close of the war. That portion of his command whichhad remained in Tennessee became disintegrated; the men either wereincorporated in other organizations, or, attracted by the fascinationsof irregular warfare, were virtually lost to the service. Morgan, afterfour or five months' imprisonment in the Ohio penitentiary, effected anescape which has scarcely a parallel for ingenuity and daring. He wasreceived in the South enthusiastically. The authorities at Richmondseemed at first to share the popular sympathy and admiration. But itsoon became apparent that his infraction of discipline in crossing theOhio was not forgiven. Placed for a short time in practical command ofthe Department of Southwestern Virginia, he was given inadequate meansfor its defense, and bound with instructions which accorded neither withhis temperament nor with his situation. The troops he commanded werenot, like his old riders, accustomed to his methods, confident in hisgenius, and devoted to his fortunes. He attempted aggressive operationswith his former energy and self-reliance, but not with his formersuccess. He drove out of West Virginia two invading columns, and thenmade an incursion into the heart of Kentucky--known as his last Kentuckyraid--in the hope of anticipating and deterring a movement into his ownterritory. Very successful at first, this raid ended, too, in disaster. After capturing and dispersing Federal forces in the aggregate muchlarger than his own, he encountered at Cynthiana a vastly superiorforce, and was defeated. Two months later, September 4, 1864, he waskilled at Greeneville, Tennessee, while advancing to attack the Federaldetachments stationed in front of Knoxville. [5]

[Footnote 5: E. W. Doran of Greeneville, Tenn. , gives the followingparticulars of General Morgan's death:

General Morgan came to Greeneville on September 3, and stationed histroops on a hill overlooking the town from the east, while he and hisstaff were entertained at the "Williams Mansion, " the finest residencein town. At this time Captain Robert C. Carter, in command of a companyof Colonel Crawford's regiment, was stationed three or four miles northof the town. He got accurate information of Morgan's whereabouts, andsent a messenger at once to General A. C. Gillem, at Bull's Gap, sixteenmiles distant. This message was intrusted to John Davis and two otheryoung men of his company, who rode through a fearful storm, pickingtheir way by the lightning-flashes and arriving there some time beforemidnight. Other messages were probably sent to Gillem that night fromGreeneville, but this was the first received. The report usually givenin the histories to the effect that Mrs. Joseph Williams carried thenews is not correct, as she was known to be in an opposite directionseveral miles, and knew nothing of the affair. In an hour after themessage was delivered Gillem's forces were hurrying on their way toGreeneville, where they arrived about daylight, and surrounded the housewhere Morgan was. He ran out, without waiting to dress, to concealhimself in the shrubbery and grape arbors, but was seen from the streetand shot by Andrew G. Campbell, a private in the 13th Tennessee. Campbell was promoted to a lieutenancy. Morgan's body was afterwardsecured by his friends and given decent burial. But little firing wasdone by either army; and after Morgan was killed his forces marched outof town while the Union forces marched in, in easy range of each other, yet not a shot was fired on either side. ]

The remnant of his old command served during the gloomy winter of1864-65 in the region where their leader met death, fighting often onthe same ground. When Richmond fell, and Lee surrendered, they marchedto join Joseph E. Johnston. After his capitulation they were part of theescort that guarded, Jefferson Davis in his aimless retreat fromCharlotte and laid down their arms at Woodville, Georgia, by order ofJohn. C. Breckinridge, when the armies of the Confederacy weredisbanded, and its President became a fugitive. 

II. THE CAPTURE

BY ORLANDO B. WILLCOX

When it was known at Indianapolis that General Morgan, with a largeforce, had crossed the Ohio, the city was panic-stricken. The State hadbeen literally depleted of troops to assist Kentucky, and everybody knewit. The very worst was apprehended--that railways would be cut up, passenger and freight trains robbed, bridges and depots burned, ourarsenal pillaged, two thousand Confederate prisoners at Camp Mortonliberated, and Jeffersonville, with all its Government stores, andpossibly Indianapolis itself, destroyed. 

Nor was this all. It had been reported, and partly believed, asafterward indeed proved to be the fact, that the State was literallyundermined with rebel sympathizers banded together in secretorganizations. The coming of Morgan had been looked for, and hisprogress through Kentucky watched with considerable anxiety. It wasgloomily predicted that hundreds, perhaps thousands, of "Knights of theGolden Circle" and of "Sons of Liberty" would flock to his standard andendeavor to carry the State over to the Confederacy. 

Morgan probably had fair reason to believe that his ranks would be atleast largely recruited in the southern counties of Indiana. Thegovernor of Indiana, Oliver P. Morton, went to work with all histremendous energy and indomitable will, in the face of the greatestopposition that had been encountered in any Northern State, amounting, just before, almost to open rebellion. He proclaimed martial law, thoughnot in express terms, and ordered out the "Legion, " or militia, andcalled upon the loyal citizens of the State to enroll themselves asminute-men, to organize and report for arms and for martial duty. Thousands responded to the call within twenty-four hours--many withintwo hours. [6] Everything possible was done by telegraph, until the lineswere cut. Some arms were found in the State Arsenal, and more withaccoutrements and ammunition, together with whole batteries ofartillery, were procured from Chicago and St. Louis. 

[Footnote 6: According to the report of the adjutant-general of Indiana, 30, 000 militia assembled within thirty-six hours, and about the timeMorgan was leaving the State 65, 000 men were in the field. In Ohio, according to a report made to the adjutant-general, 55, 000 militiaturned out; many of them refused pay, yet $232, 000 were disbursed forservices during the raid. It would appear, therefore, that 120, 000militia took the field against Morgan, in addition to the three brigadesof General Judah's United State cavalry. --EDITOR. ]

The disposition of the State levies that came thronging in was left tome as fast as they were armed. The three great junctions of the Ohio andMississippi Railroad in Indiana, over which troops and supplies wereshipped from all points to Rosecrans at Chattanooga--viz. , Mitchell, Seymour, and Vernon, --were first to be made secure; for surely Morganmust have some military objectives, and these appeared to be the mostlikely. The westerly junction was Mitchell. This was quickly occupiedand guarded by General James Hughes, with Legion men, reinforced by thenew organizations rising in that quarter. Seymour was the most central, and lay directly on the road to Cincinnati and Indianapolis fromLouisville; and at Seymour a brigade was assembled from the center ofthe State, with General John Love, a skilful old army officer, tocommand it, with instructions to have an eye to Vernon likewise. To thislast point Burnside ordered a battery from Cincinnati; and what fewtroops I had in Michigan, though half organized, came down to Vernon andto General Love. Besides these thus rendezvoused, the people of thesouthern counties were called upon to bushwhack the enemy, to obstructroads, to guard trains, bridges, etc. , and to make themselves generallyuseful and pestiferous. 

Our militia first came in contact with the enemy opposite Brandenburg, where he crossed; but it made the stand at Corydon Junction, where theroad runs between two abrupt hills, across which Colonel Lewis Jordanthrew up some light intrenchments. Morgan's advance attempted to rideover these "rail-piles" rough-shod, but lost some twenty troopersunhorsed. They brought up their reserve and artillery, flanked, andfinally surrounded Colonel Jordan, who, after an hour's resoluteresistance, surrendered. 

This gave the raiders the town, and the citizens the first taste ofMorgan's style, which somewhat disgusted the numerous class of Southernsympathizers. The shops were given up to plunder, and the ladies leviedon for meals for the whole command. 

Throwing out columns in various directions, Morgan pushed for Mitchell, where no doubt he expected to cut the Ohio and Mississippi Railroad, gotas far as Salem in that direction, captured or dispersed a few squads ofbadly armed minute-men who were guarding depots and bridges, which heburned, and doubtless hearing from his scouts, sent out in citizens'clothes, of Hughes's force collected at Mitchell, he discreetly turnedoff northeastward, apparently aiming next for Seymour. This I heard withgreat satisfaction. 

The panic at Indianapolis began to subside. Still I felt uneasy forSeymour, as I next heard of Morgan at Vienna, where he tapped thetelegraph-lines and learned what he could of all our plans to catch him. He came within nine miles of Seymour. General Love sent out areconnaissance of sharpshooters under Colonel C. V. De Land, with acouple of field-pieces. They found that Morgan had turned off eastward. Love divined his object, and started De Land and two Indiana regimentsof militia for Vernon. Here Morgan next turned up, planted his Parrotts, and demanded surrender. He was defied until Love's arrival with the restof his militia, and then he swept off in a hurry from Vernon, followedby our men, who captured his pickets and rear-guard, but who, having nocavalry, were soon outmarched. 

Morgan secured a great advantage by seizing all the horses withinreach, [7] leaving none for the militia or for General E. H. Hobson, whichenabled him to gain on his pursuers, and he would then have left Hobsonfar out of sight but for the home guard, who obstructed the roadssomewhat, and bushwhacked his men from every hedge, hill, or tree, whenit could be done. But the trouble was that we could not attack him withsufficient organized numbers. 

[Footnote 7: General J. M. Shackelford says in his official report: "Ourpursuit was much retarded by the enemy's burning all the bridges in ourfront. He had every advantage. His system of horse-stealing was perfect. He would despatch men from the head of each regiment, on each side ofthe road, to go five miles into the country, seizing every horse, andthen fall in at the rear of the column. In this way he swept the countryfor ten miles of all the horses. "--EDITOR. ]

After he left Vernon we felt safe at Indianapolis. "Defensive sites"were abandoned, and the banks brought back their deposits which theyhad sent off by express to Chicago and the North. Some fears, or hopes, were entertained as to Madison, toward which Morgan next bent hisway--fears for the safety of that city, and hopes that, with the help ofJudah's troops and the gunboats now on the way up the river, we mightput an end to the raid. From Indianapolis we started General Lew Wallacewith a good brigade of minute-men, and with high hopes that at eitherMadison or Lawrenceburg, farther up the river, he might "capture them. "The people ahead were asked by telegraph to coöperate. But after goingdown that line as far as Dupont, Morgan turned northeast for Versailles, where we next heard of him threatening the Cincinnati and IndianapolisRailway. This was a nice bit of work. He baffled all our calculations, and did some damage on both the Ohio and Mississippi and Cincinnatirailroads, sending off flying columns in a dozen directions at a timefor the purpose, as well as to throw Hobson off the scent. Some of thesecolumns looked like traveling circuses adorned with useless plunder andan excess of clowns. Thus they went through Pierceville and Milan toHarrison, on White River, and on the Ohio line. Here Hobson's advancecame upon them, but unfortunately it paused to plant artillery, insteadof dashing across the bridge and engaging the raiders until the mainbody should arrive. This lost us the bridge, which was burned before oureyes, and many hours' delay, marching round by the ford. Their nextdemonstration was toward Hamilton. Here there was a fine railway bridgeover the Big Miami. Hobson followed in such close pursuit through NewBaltimore, Glendale, and Miamiville that the raiders did little damage. Their attempt to burn a bridge at Miamiville was repulsed by the homeguard. My last troops were despatched from Indianapolis to head them offat Hamilton, after five hours' delay caused by the intoxication of theircommander. His successor in command was General Hascall, who swore likea trooper to find himself "just in time to be too late. " He proceededthrough Hamilton, Ohio, as far as Loveland. But Morgan had sent only adetachment toward Hamilton to divert attention from Cincinnati, towardwhich he made a rapid march with his whole united force. 

Governor Tod of Ohio had already called out the militia and proclaimedmartial law. He raised men enough, but Burnside had to organize and armthem. Morgan found the great city guarded, but he passed through thevery suburbs by a night march around it, unmolested. He crossed theLittle Miami Railroad at daylight, and came north in sight of CampDennison, where Colonel Neff half armed his convalescents, threw outpickets, dug rifle-pits, and threw up intrenchments. His fiery oldveterans saved a railway bridge, and actually captured a lieutenant andothers before they sheered off and went some ten miles northward toWilliamsburg. From that point they seemed to be steering for the greatbend of the Ohio at Pomeroy. 

In the vicinity of Cincinnati, Colonel W. P. Sanders, the splendid raiderof East Tennessee, came up from Kentucky with some Michigan cavalry, andjoined Hobson in pursuit, and these were about the only fresh horses inthe chase. Sanders had come by steamer, and, landing at Cincinnati, hadbeen thrown out from there, it was hoped, ahead of Morgan, who, however, was too quick for him. They met later on. 

Under the good management of Colonel A. V. Kautz in advance, with hisbrigade, and of Sanders, the men now marched more steadily and gainedground. Kautz had observed how the other brigade commanders had lostdistance and blown their horses by following false leads, halting andclosing up rapidly at the frequent reports of "enemy in front, " and bystopping to plant artillery. Marching in his own way, at a steady walk, his brigade forming the rear-guard, he had arrived at Batavia two hoursbefore the main body, that had been "cavorting round the country" allday, "misled by two citizen guides"--possibly Morgan's own men. 

Not stopping to draw the rations sent out to him from Cincinnati, Hobsonurged his jaded horses through Brown, Adams, and Pike counties, nowunder the lead of Kautz, and reached Jasper, on the Scioto, at midnightof the 16th, Morgan having passed there at sundown. The next day theyraced through Jackson. On the 18th, Hobson, at Rutland, learned thatMorgan had been turned off by the militia at Pomeroy, and had taken theChester road for Portland and the fords of the Ohio. The chase becameanimated. Our troopers made a march of fifty miles that day and stillhad twenty-five miles to reach Chester. They arrived there without ahalt at eleven at night, and had still fifteen miles to reach the ford. They kept on, and at dawn of the 19th struck the enemy's pickets. Twomiles out from Portland, Morgan was brought to bay--and not by Hobsonalone. First came the militia, then came Judah. His division had pushedup the river in steamers parallel with Morgan's course. Lieutenant JohnO'Neil, afterward of Fenian fame, with a troop of Indiana cavalry, keptup the touch on Morgan's right flank by a running fight, stinging it atevery vulnerable point, and reporting Morgan's course to Judah in theneck-and-neck race. Aided by the local militia, O'Neil now dashed aheadand fearlessly skirmished with the enemy's flankers from every coign ofvantage. He reached the last descent to the river-bottom near BuffingtonBar, and near the historical Blennerhasset's Island, early on themorning of the 19th. 

The Ohio River was up. It had risen unexpectedly. But here Morgan mustcross, if at all. It could not be forded by night, when he got here. Hetried the ford at Blennerhasset. Failing in this, his men collectedflatboats, and set to work calking them, meantime sending a party toBuffington Bar, where they found a small earthwork and captured itsguard; and these things delayed them until morning. General Judahattempted a reconnaissance, resulting in a fight, which he describes asfollows in his report:

 Before leaving Pomeroy I despatched a courier to General Hobson, apprising him of my direction, and requesting him to press the enemy's rear with all the forces he could bring up. Traveling all night, I reached the last descent to the river-bottom at Buffington Bar at 5. 30 A. M. On the 19th. Here, halting my force, and placing my artillery in a commanding position, I determined to make a reconnaissance in person, for the purpose of ascertaining if a report just made to me--that the gunboats had left on a previous evening, the home guards had retreated, and that the enemy had been crossing all night--was true. A very dense fog enveloped everything, confining the view of surrounding objects to a radius of about fifty yards. I was accompanied by a small advance-guard, my escort, and one piece of Henshaw's battery, a section of which, under Captain Henshaw, I had ordered to join my force. I advanced slowly and cautiously along a road leading toward the river, . . . When my little force found itself enveloped on three sides--front and both flanks--by three regiments, dismounted, and led by Colonel Basil [W. ] Duke, just discernible through the fog, at a distance of from fifty to a hundred yards. This force, as I afterward learned, had been disposed for the capture of the home guards, intrenched on the bank of the river. To use Colonel Duke's own expression after his capture, "He could not have been more surprised at the presence of my force if it had been dropped from the clouds. " As soon as discovered, the enemy opened a heavy fire, advancing so rapidly that before the piece of artillery could be brought into battery it was captured, as were also Captain R. C. Kise, my assistant adjutant-general, Captain Grafton, volunteer aide-de-camp, and between twenty and thirty of my men. Two privates were killed. Major McCook (since dead), paymaster and volunteer aide-de-camp, [8] Lieutenant F. G. Price, aide-de-camp, and ten men were wounded. Searching in vain for an opening through which to charge and temporarily beat back the enemy, I was compelled to fall back upon the main body, which I rapidly brought up into position, and opened a rapid and beautifully accurate artillery fire from the pieces of the 5th Indiana upon a battery of two pieces which the enemy had opened upon me, as well as upon his deployed dismounted force in line. Obstructing fences prevented a charge by my cavalry. In less than half an hour the enemy's lines were broken and in retreat. The advance of my artillery, and a charge of cavalry made by Lieutenant O'Neil, 5th Indiana Cavalry, with only fifty men, converted his retreat into a rout, and drove him upon General Hobson's forces, which had engaged him upon the other road. His prisoners, the piece of artillery lost by me, all of his own artillery (five pieces), his camp equipage, and transportation and plunder of all kinds, were abandoned and captured. We also captured large numbers of prisoners, including Colonels Basil [W. ] Duke, Dick [R. C. ] Morgan, and Allen [Ward?], and the most of General Morgan's staff. 

[Footnote 8: Major Daniel McCook, father of the famous fighting family, who pushed himself in, against remonstrance, to find the slayer of hisson (General Robert L. McCook), reported to be with Morgan. ]

Yet with a considerable force Morgan succeeded in making his escape, andstarted into the interior like a fox for cover. Passing around theadvanced column of his enemy, he suddenly came upon the end ofShackelford's column, under Wolford, whom he at once attacked with hisusual audacity. Shackelford reversed his column, selected his besthorses, and gave pursuit. He overtook the enemy at Backum Church, whereWolford's Kentucky fellows rushed upon Morgan's men with drawn sabersand Kentucky yells, and chased them until next afternoon, when they werefound collected on a high bluff, where some hundreds surrendered; butMorgan again escaped, and with over six hundred horsemen gave ourfellows a long chase yet by the dirt road and by rail. Continuing norththrough several counties, he veered northwest toward the Pennsylvanialine, even now burning buildings, car-loads of freight, and bridges bythe way, though hotly hounded by Shackelford, and flanked and headed offby troops in cars. 

Among the latter was Major W. B. Way, of the 9th Michigan, with abattalion of his regiment. Way had left the cars at Mingo and marchedover near to Steubenville, [9] where he began a skirmish which lastedover twenty-five miles toward Salineville, away up in Columbiana County. Here he brought Morgan to bay. The latter still fought desperately, losing 200 prisoners, and over 70 of his men killed or wounded, andskipped away. Another Union detachment came up by rail under MajorGeorge W. Rue, of the 9th Kentucky Cavalry, joined Shackelford atHammondsville, and took the advance with 300 men. 

[Footnote 9: Mr. E. E. Day makes the following statement in regard toMorgan's brief stay at Wintersville:

 Defeated at Buffington Bar, Morgan abandoned his plan of making a watering trough of Lake Erie, and fled north through the tier of river counties, keeping within a few miles of the Ohio. The river was low, but not fordable except at Coxe's Riffle, a few miles below Steubenville. Headed at this point also, he struck across the country and passed through Wintersville, a small village five miles west of Steubenville. That was a memorable Saturday in Wintersville. Morgan's progress across the State had been watched with the most feverish anxiety, and the dread that the village might lie in his path filled the hearts of many. The wildest rumors passed current. Morgan and his "guerrillas, " it was said, would kill all the men, lay the village in ashes, and carry off the women and children. The militia, or "hundred-day men, " who lived in or near the village, drilled in the village streets, and fired rattling volleys of blank cartridges at a board fence, in preparation for the coming conflict. On Friday evening word came that Morgan would attempt to force a passage at Coxe's Riffle the next morning, and the militia marched to Steubenville to help intercept him. A bloody battle was expected. About the middle of the forenoon a horseman dashed into the village shouting, "Morgan's coming! He's just down at John Hanna's!" and galloped on to warn others. Mr. Hanna was a farmer living about a mile south of the village. He had shouldered his musket and gone with the militia, leaving his wife and two children at home. About ten o'clock Morgan's men were seen coming up the road. Mrs. Hanna with her children attempted to reach a neighbor's house, but they were overtaken and ordered to the house, which they found full of soldiers. Morgan and his officers were stretched, dusty clothes, boots, and all, upon her beds, and a negro was getting dinner. While the third table was eating, a squad of militiamen appeared on a neighboring hill. Morgan ordered their capture, saying, "What will those Yankees do with the thousand men I have?" A number of Morgan's men started to carry out their chief's command, but the militia made good their escape. Soon after, word came that Shackelford's men were near, and Morgan left so hurriedly that he neglected to take the quilts and blankets his men had selected. 

 In the village all was consternation. Many of the women and children gathered at the Maxwell Tavern. Their terror upon hearing that Morgan was "just down at Hanna's" cannot be described. Word had been sent to Steubenville, and Colonel James Collier marched out with a force of about eight hundred militia, sending a squad under command of Captain Prentiss to reconnoiter. They galloped through the village, and as Morgan's advance came in sight began firing. The fire was returned, and a private named Parks, from Steubenville, was wounded. Morgan's men charged the scouting party, sending them through the village back to the main body in a very demoralized condition. The frightened women, and still worse frightened children, no sooner saw the "dust-brown ranks" of the head of Morgan's column than they beat a hasty retreat down the alley to the house of Dr. Markle, the village physician. This change of base was made under fire, as Morgan's men were shooting at the retreating militia, and also at a house owned by William Fisher, in which they had heard there were a number of militiamen. At the doctor's house all crowded into one room, and were led in prayer by the minister's wife. The retreat of the scouting party did not have a very cheering effect upon the advancing militia. As they passed a field of broom-corn several men suddenly disappeared, their swift course through the cane being easily followed by the swaying of the tassels. The militia were met by rumors that the village was in ashes. Morgan did not set fire to the village, but his men found time to explore the village store, and to search the Fisher house, in the second story of which they found a flag. Morgan's men were hardly out of sight on the Richmond road when Colonel Collier and the militia appeared. They formed line of battle on a hill east of the village just in time to see Shackelford's advance coming along the road over which they were expecting Morgan. The colonel at once opened fire with his six-pounder loaded with scrap-iron. The first shot did little damage. One piece of scrap-iron found its way to the right, and struck with a resounding thwack against the end of the Maxwell Tavern. The second shot did not hit anything. One of Shackelford's officers rode across the field and inquired, "What are you fools shooting at?" The colonel then learned, to his astonishment, that Morgan was at least two miles out on the Richmond road. Many who had been conspicuously absent then showed themselves, and the daring deeds and hairbreadth escapes which came to light are not to be lightly referred to. At least a dozen dead rebels, it was said, would be discovered in the fields when the farmers came to cut their oats, but for some reason the bodies were never found. ]

At Salineville he found Morgan, pursued by Major Way, pushing forSmith's Ford on the Ohio. Breaking into trot and gallop, he outmarchedand intercepted the fugitives at the cross-roads near Beaver Creek, andhad gained the enemy's front and flank when a flag of truce was raised, and Morgan coolly demanded his surrender. Rue's threat to open firebrought Morgan to terms, when another issue was raised. It was nowclaimed that Morgan had already surrendered, namely, to a militiaofficer, and had been by him paroled. This "officer" turned out to be"Captain" James Burbick, of the home guard. [10] Rue held Morgan, with364 officers and men and 400 horses, till General Shackelford came up, who held them as prisoners of war. 

[Footnote 10: General W. T. H. Brooks says in his report:

 Morgan had passed a company of citizens from New Lisbon, and agreed not to fire upon them if they would not fire upon him. He had taken two or three of their men prisoners, and was using them as guides. Among them was a Mr. Burbick, of New Lisbon, who had gone out at the head of a small squad of mounted men. When Morgan saw that his advance was about to be cut off by Major Rue, he said to this Captain Burbick: "I would prefer to surrender to the militia rather than to United States troops. I will surrender to you if you will agree to respect private property and parole the officers and men as soon as we get to Cincinnati. " Burbick replied that he knew nothing about this business. Morgan said, "Give me an answer, yes or no. " Burbick, evidently in confusion, said, "Yes. "

James Burbick sent a statement to Governor Tod, in which he said that hewas not a prisoner with Morgan, but that he was guiding him voluntarilyaway from the vicinity of New Lisbon, after Morgan had agreed not topass through that town. Burbick reported that he accepted Morgan'ssurrender, and started for the rear with a handkerchief tied to a stickto intercept the advancing troops, while Lieutenant C. D. Maus, aprisoner with Morgan, was sent with another flag of truce across thefields. ]

And thus ended the greatest of Morgan's raids. By it Bragg lost a finelarge division of cavalry, that, if added to Buckner's force, --alreadyequal to Burnside's in East Tennessee, --might have defeated Burnside;or, if thrown across Rosecrans's flanks or long lines of supply andcommunication, or used in reconnaissance on the Tennessee River, mighthave baffled Rosecrans's plans altogether. As it was, Rosecrans was ableto deceive Bragg by counterfeit movements that could easily have beendetected by Morgan. 

III. THE ESCAPE[11]

BY THOMAS H. HINES

On the 31st of July and the 1st of August, 1863, General John H. Morgan, General Basil W. Duke, and sixty-eight other officers of Morgan'scommand, were, by order of General Burnside, confined in the Ohio StatePenitentiary at Columbus. Before entering the main prison we weresearched and relieved of our pocket-knives, money, and of all otherarticles of value, subjected to a bath, the shaving of our faces, andthe cutting of our hair. We were placed each in a separate cell in thefirst and second tiers on the south side in the east wing of the prison. General Morgan and General Duke were on the second range, General Morganbeing confined in the last cell at the east end, those who escaped withGeneral Morgan having their cells in the first range. 

[Footnote 11: Condensed from "The Bivouac" of June, 1885. ]

From five o'clock in the evening until seven o'clock in the morning wewere locked into our cells, with no possible means of communication withone another; but in the day, between these hours, we were permitted tomingle together in the narrow hall, twelve feet wide and one hundred andsixty long, which was cut off from the other portion of the building, occupied by the convicts, by a plank partition, in one end of which wasa wooden door. At each end of the hall, and within the partitions, wasan armed military sentinel, while the civil guards of the prison passedat irregular intervals among us, and very frequently the warden or hisdeputy came through in order to see that we were secure and notviolating the prison rules. We were not permitted to talk with or in anyway to communicate with the convicts, nor were we permitted to see anyof our relatives or friends that might come from a distance to see us, except upon the written order of General Burnside, and then only in thepresence of a guard. Our correspondence underwent the censorship of thewarden, we receiving and he sending only such as met his approbation; wewere not permitted to have newspapers, or to receive information of whatwas going on in the outside busy world. 

Many plans for escape, ingenious and desperate, were suggested, discussed, and rejected because deemed impracticable. Among them wasbribery of the guards. This was thought not feasible because of thedouble set of guards, military and civil, who were jealous and watchfulof each other, so that it was never attempted, although we could havecommanded, through our friends in Kentucky and elsewhere, an almostunlimited amount of money. 

On a morning in the last days of October I was rudely treated, withoutcause, by the deputy warden. There was no means of redress, and it wasnot wise to seek relief by retort, since I knew, from the experience ofmy comrades, that it would result in my confinement in a dark dungeon, with bread and water for diet. I retired to my cell, and closed the doorwith the determination that I would neither eat nor sleep until I haddevised some means of escape. I ate nothing and drank nothing during theday, and by nine o'clock I had matured the plan that we carried intoexecution. It may be that I owed something to the fact that I had justcompleted the reading of Victor Hugo's "Les Misérables, " containing suchvivid delineations of the wonderful escapes of Jean Valjean, and of thesubterranean passages of the city of Paris. This may have led me to theline of thought that terminated in the plan of escape adopted. It wasthis: I had observed that the floor of my cell was upon a level with theground upon the outside of the building, which was low and flat, andalso that the floor of the cell was perfectly dry and free from mold. Itoccurred to me that, as the rear of the cell was to a great extentexcluded from the light and air, this dryness and freedom from moldcould not exist unless there was underneath something in the nature ofan air-chamber to prevent the dampness from rising up the walls andthrough the floor. If this chamber should be found to exist, and couldbe reached, a tunnel might be run through the foundations into the yard, from which we might escape by scaling the outer wall, the air-chamberfurnishing a receptacle for the earth and stone to be taken out inrunning the tunnel. The next morning, when our cells were unlocked, andwe were permitted to assemble in the hall, I went to General Morgan'scell, he having been for several days quite unwell, and laid before himthe plan as I have sketched it. Its feasibility appeared to himunquestioned, and to it he gave a hearty and unqualified approval. If, then, our supposition was correct as to the existence of the air-chamberbeneath the lower range of cells, a limited number of those occupyingthat range could escape, and only a limited number, because the greaterthe number the longer the time required to complete the work, and thegreater the danger of discovery while prosecuting it, in making our wayover the outer wall, and in escaping afterward. 

[Illustration: CORRIDOR AND CELLS IN THE EAST WING. A, CAPTAIN HINES'SCELL. ]

With these considerations in view, General Morgan and myself agreed uponthe following officers, whose cells were nearest the point at which thetunnel was to begin, to join us in the enterprise: Captain J. C. Bennett, Captain L. D. Hockersmith, Captain C. S. Magee, Captain Ralph Sheldon, andCaptain Samuel B. Taylor. The plan was then laid before these gentlemen, and received their approval. It was agreed that work should begin in mycell, and continue from there until completed. In order, however, to dothis without detection, it was necessary that some means should be foundto prevent the daily inspection of that cell, it being the custom of thedeputy warden, with the guards, to visit and have each cell swept everymorning. This end was accomplished by my obtaining permission from thewarden to furnish a broom and sweep my own cell. For a few morningsthereafter the deputy warden would pass, glance into my cell, complimentme on its neatness, and go on to the inspection of the other cells. After a few days my cell was allowed to go without any inspectionwhatever, and then we were ready to begin work, having obtained, throughsome of our associates who had been sent to the hospital, sometable-knives made of flat steel files. In my cell, as in the others, there was a narrow iron cot, which could be folded and propped up to thecell wall. I thought the work could be completed within a month. 

On the 4th of November work was begun in the back part of my cell, underthe rear end of my cot. We cut through six inches of cement, and tookout six layers of brick put in and cemented with the ends up. Here wecame to the air-chamber, as I had calculated, and found it six feet wideby four feet high, and running the entire length of the range of cells. The cement and brick taken out in effecting an entrance to the chamberwere placed in my bed-tick, upon which I slept during the progress ofthis portion of the work, after which the material was removed to thechamber. We found the chamber heavily grated at the end, against which alarge quantity of coal had been heaped, cutting off any chance of exitin that way. We then began a tunnel, running it at right angles from theside of the chamber, and almost directly beneath my cell. We cut throughthe foundation wall, five feet thick, of the cell block; through twelvefeet of grouting, to the outer wall of the east wing of the prison;through this wall, six feet in thickness; and four feet up near thesurface of the yard, in an unfrequented place between this wing and thefemale department of the prison. 

[Illustration: EXTERIOR OF THE PRISON. B--EXIT FROM TUNNEL. ]

During the progress of the work, in which we were greatly assisted byseveral of our comrades who were not to go out, notably among themCaptain Thomas W. Bullitt of Louisville, Kentucky, I sat at the entranceto my cell studiously engaged on Gibbon's Rome and in trying to masterFrench. By this device I was enabled to be constantly on guard withoutbeing suspected, as I had pursued the same course during the wholeperiod of my imprisonment. Those who did the work were relieved everyhour. This was accomplished, and the danger of the guards overhearingthe work as they passed obviated, by adopting a system of signals, whichconsisted in giving taps on the floor over the chamber. One knock was tosuspend work, two to proceed, and three to come out. On one occasion, byoversight, we came near being discovered. The prisoners were taken outto their meals by ranges, and on this day those confined in the firstrange were called for dinner while Captain Hockersmith was in thetunnel. The deputy warden, on calling the roll, missed Hockersmith, andcame back to inquire for him. General Morgan engaged the attention ofthe warden by asking his opinion as to the propriety of a remonstrancethat the general had prepared to be sent to General Burnside. Flatteredby the deference shown to his opinion by General Morgan, the wardenunwittingly gave Captain Hockersmith time to get out and fall into linefor dinner. While the tunnel was being run, Colonel R. C. Morgan, abrother of General Morgan, made a rope, in links, of bed-ticking, thirty-five feet in length, and from the iron poker of the hall stove wemade a hook, in the nature of a grappling-iron, to attach to the end ofthe rope. 

The work was now complete with the exception of making an entrance fromeach of the cells of those who were to go out. This could be done withsafety only by working from the chamber upward, as the cells were dailyinspected. The difficulty presented in doing this was the fact that wedid not know at what point to begin in order to open the holes in thecells at the proper place. To accomplish this a measurement wasnecessary, but we had nothing to measure with. Fortunately the deputywarden again ignorantly aided us. I got into a discussion with him as tothe length of the hall, and to convince me of my error he sent for hismeasuring-line, and after the hall had been measured, and his statementverified, General Morgan occupied his attention, while I took the line, measured the distance from center to center of the cells, --all being ofuniform size, --and marked it upon the stick used in my cell for proppingup my cot. With this stick, measuring from the middle of the hole in mycell, the proper distance was marked off in the chamber for the holes inthe other cells. The chamber was quite dark, and light being necessaryfor the work, we had obtained candles and matches through our sickcomrades in the hospital. The hole in my cell during the progress of thework was kept covered with a large hand-satchel containing my change ofclothing. We cut from underneath upward until there was only a thincrust of the cement left in each of the cells. Money was necessary topay expenses of transportation and for other contingencies as they mightarise. General Morgan had some money that the search had not discovered, but it was not enough. Shortly after we began work I wrote to my sisterin Kentucky a letter, which through a trusted convict I sent out andmailed, requesting her to go to my library and get certain books, and inthe back of a designated one, which she was to open with a thin knife, place a certain amount of Federal money, repaste the back, write my nameacross the inside of the back where the money was concealed, and sendthe box by express. In due course of time the books with the money cameto hand. It only remained now to get information as to the time of therunning of the trains and to await a cloudy night, as it was then fullmoon. Our trusty convict was again found useful. He was quite an oldman, called Heavy, had been in the penitentiary for many years, and ashe had been so faithful, and his time having almost expired, he waspermitted to go on errands for the officials to the city. I gave him tendollars to bring us a daily paper and six ounces of French brandy. Neither he nor any one within the prison or on the outside had anyintimation of our contemplated escape. 

It was our first thought to make our way to the Confederacy by way ofCanada; but, on inspecting the time-table in the paper, it was seen thata knowledge of the escape would necessarily come to the prison officialsbefore we could reach the Canadian border. There was nothing left, then, but to take the train south, which we found, if on time, would reachCincinnati, Ohio, before the cells were opened in the morning, at whichtime we expected our absence to be discovered. One thing more remainedto be done, and that was to ascertain the easiest and safest place atwhich to scale the outside wall of the prison. The windows openingoutward were so high that we could not see the wall. In the hall was aladder resting against the wall, fifty feet long, that had been used forsweeping down the wall. A view from the top of the ladder would give usa correct idea of the outside, but the difficulty was to get that viewwithout exciting suspicion. 

Fortunately the warden came in while we were discussing the greatstrength and activity of Captain Samuel B. Taylor, who was very small ofstature, when it was suggested that Taylor could go hand over hand onthe under side of the ladder to the top, and, with a moment's rest, return in the same way. To the warden this seemed impossible, and, toconvince him, Taylor was permitted to make the trial, which he didsuccessfully. At the top of the ladder he rested for a minute and took amental photograph of the wall. When the warden had left, Taylorcommunicated the fact that directly south of and at almost right anglesfrom the east end of the block in which we were confined there was adouble gate to the outer wall, the inside one being of wooden uprightsfour inches apart, and the outside one as solid as the wall; the woodengate being supported by the wing wall of the female department, whichjoined to the main outer wall. 

[Illustration: WITHIN THE WOODEN GATE. ]

On the evening of the 27th of November the cloudy weather so anxiouslywaited for came; and prior to being locked in our cells it was agreed tomake the attempt at escape that night. Cell No. 21, next to my cell, No. 20, on the first range, was occupied by Colonel R. C. Morgan, a brotherof General Morgan. That cell had been prepared for General Morgan byopening a hole to the chamber, and when the hour for locking up came, General Morgan stepped into Cell 21, and Colonel Morgan into GeneralMorgan's cell in the second range. The guard did not discover theexchange, as General Morgan and Colonel Morgan were of about the samephysical proportions, and each stood with his back to the cell door whenit was being locked. 

At intervals of two hours every night, beginning at eight, the guardscame around to each cell and passed a light through the grating to seethat all was well with the prisoners. The approach of the guard wasoften so stealthily made that a knowledge of his presence was first hadby seeing him at the door of the cell. To avoid a surprise of this kindwe sprinkled fine coal along in front of the cells, walking upon whichwould give us warning. By a singular coincidence that might have been afatality, on the day we had determined upon for the escape GeneralMorgan received a letter from Lexington, Kentucky, begging and warninghim not to attempt to escape, and by the same mail I received a letterfrom a member of my family saying that it was rumored and generallybelieved at home that I had escaped. Fortunately these letters did notput the officials on their guard. We ascertained from the paper we hadprocured that a train left for Cincinnati at 1. 15 A. M. , and as theregular time for the guard to make his round of the cells was twelveo'clock, we arranged to descend to the chamber immediately thereafter. Captain Taylor was to descend first, and, passing under each cell, notify the others. General Morgan had been permitted to keep his watch, and this he gave to Taylor that he might not mistake the time to go. 

At the appointed hour Taylor gave the signal, each of us arranged hiscot with the seat in his cell so as to represent a sleeping prisoner, and, easily breaking the thin layer of cement, descended to the chamber, passed through the tunnel, breaking through the thin stratum of earthat the end. We came out near the wall of the female prison, --it wasraining slightly, --crawled by the side of the wall to the wooden gate, cast our grappling-iron attached to the rope over the gate, made itfast, ascended the rope to the top of the gate, drew up the rope, andmade our way by the wing wall to the outside wall, where we entered asentry-box and divested ourselves of our soiled outer garments. In thedaytime sentinels were placed on this wall, but at night they were onthe inside of the walls and at the main entrance to the prison. On thetop of the wall we found a cord running along the outer edge andconnecting with a bell in the office of the prison. This cord GeneralMorgan cut with one of the knives we had used in tunneling. Beforeleaving my cell I wrote and left, addressed to N. Merion, the warden, the following:

 CASTLE MERION, CELL NO. 20, November 27, 1863. --Commencement, November 4, 1863; conclusion, November 24, 1863; number of hours for labor per day, five; tools, two small knives. _La patience est amère, mais son fruit est doux. _ By order of my six honorable Confederates. THOMAS H. HINES, _Captain, C. S. A. _

Having removed all trace of soil from our clothes and persons, weattached the iron hook to the railing on the outer edge of the wall, anddescended to the ground within sixty yards of where the prison guardswere sitting round a fire and conversing. Here we separated, GeneralMorgan and myself going to the depot, about a quarter, of a mile fromthe prison, where I purchased two tickets for Cincinnati, and enteredthe car that just then came in. General Morgan took a seat beside aFederal major in uniform, and I sat immediately in their rear. Thegeneral entered into conversation with the major, who was made the moretalkative by a copious drink of my French brandy. As the train passednear the prison-wall where we had descended, the major remarked, "Thereis where the rebel General Morgan and his officers are put forsafe-keeping. " The general replied, "I hope they will keep him as safeas he is now. " Our train passed through Dayton, Ohio, and there, forsome unknown reason, we were delayed an hour. This rendered it extrahazardous to go to the depot in the city of Cincinnati, since by thattime the prison officials would, in all probability, know of our escape, and telegraph to intercept us. In fact, they did telegraph in everydirection, and offered a reward for our recapture. Instead, then, ofgoing to the depot in Cincinnati, we got off, while the train was movingslowly, in the outskirts of the city, near Ludlow Ferry, on the OhioRiver. Going directly to the ferry we were crossed over in a skiff andlanded immediately in front of the residence of Mrs. Ludlow. We rang thedoor-bell, a servant came, and General Morgan wrote upon avisiting-card, "General Morgan and Captain Hines, escaped. " We werewarmly received, took a cup of coffee with the family, were furnished aguide, and walked some three miles in the country, where we werefurnished horses. Thence we went through Florence to Union, in BooneCounty, Kentucky, where we took supper with Daniel Piatt. On makingourselves known to Mr. Piatt, who had two sons in our command, we weretreated with the most cordial hospitality and kindness by the entirefamily. We there met Dr. John J. Dulaney of Florence, Kentucky, who wasof great benefit in giving us information as to the best route. Thatnight we went to Mr. Corbin's, near Union, --who also had gallant sons inour command, --where we remained concealed until the next night, andwhere friends supplied us with fresh horses and a pair of pistols each. 

[Illustration: OVER THE PRISON WALL. ]

On the evening of the 29th of November we left Union with a voluntaryguide, passed through the eastern edge of Gallatin County, and aftertraveling all night spent the day of the 30th at the house of a friendon the Owen County line. Passing through New Liberty, in Owen County, and crossing the Kentucky River at the ferry on the road to New Castle, in Henry County, we stopped at the house of Mr. Pollard at 2 A. M. , December 1. Our guide did not know the people nor the roads farther thanthe ferry, at which point he turned back. Not knowing the politics ofMr. Pollard, it was necessary to proceed with caution. On reaching hishouse we aroused him and made known our desire to spend the remainder ofthe night with him. He admitted us and took us into the family room, where there was a lamp dimly burning on a center-table. On the lightbeing turned up I discovered a Cincinnati "Enquirer" with largedisplayed head-lines, announcing the escape of General Morgan, CaptainHines, and five other officers from the Ohio penitentiary. The fact thatthis newspaper was taken by Mr. Pollard was to me sufficient evidencethat he was a Southern sympathizer. Glancing at the paper, I looked upand remarked, "I see that General Morgan, Hines, and other officers haveescaped from the penitentiary. " He responded, "Yes; and you are CaptainHines, are you not?" I replied, "Yes; and what is your name?" "Pollard, "he answered. "Allow me, then, to introduce General Morgan, " I found thatI had not made a mistake. 

After rest and a late breakfast and a discussion of the situation, itwas deemed inexpedient to remain during the day, as the house wasimmediately on a public highway, besides the danger of such unexplaineddelay exciting the suspicion of the negroes on the place. We assumed thecharacter of cattle-buyers, Mr. Pollard furnishing us with cattle-whipsto make the assumption plausible. Our first objective point was theresidence of Judge W. S. Pryor, in the outskirts of New Castle. Afterdinner Judge Pryor rode with us some distance, and put us in charge of aguide, who conducted us that night to Major Helm's, near Shelbyville, where we remained during the day of the 2d, and were there joined byfour of our command in citizen's dress. That night we passed throughTaylorsville, and stopped on the morning of the 3d near Bardstown. 

The night of the 4th we resumed our journey, and stopped on the morningof the 5th at Mr. McCormack's at Rolling Fork Creek, in Nelson County, thence through Taylor, Green (passing near Greensburg), Adair, andCumberland counties, crossing Cumberland River some nine miles belowBurkesville. We crossed the Cumberland, which was quite high, byswimming our horses by the side of a canoe. Near the place of crossing, on the south side, we stopped overnight with a private in Colonel R. T. Jacob's Federal cavalry, passing ourselves as citizens on the lookoutfor stolen horses. Next morning, in approaching the road fromBurkesville to Sparta, Tennessee, we came out of a byway immediately inthe rear of and some hundred yards from a dwelling fronting on theBurkesville-Sparta road, and screening us from view on the Burkesvilleend. As we emerged from the woodland a woman appeared at the back doorof the dwelling and motioned us back. We withdrew from view, but kept insight of the door from which the signal to retire was given, when aftera few minutes the woman again appeared and signaled us to come forward. She informed us that a body of Federal cavalry had just passed, going inthe direction of Burkesville, and that the officer in command informedher that he was trying to intercept General Morgan. We followed theBurkesville road something like a mile, and in sight of the rear-guard. We crossed Obey's River near the mouth of Wolf, and halted for two daysin the hills of Overton County, where we came upon forty of our men, whohad been separated from the force on the expedition into Indiana andOhio. These men were placed under my command, and thence we moveddirectly toward the Tennessee River, striking it about fifteen milesbelow Kingston, at Bridges's Ferry, December 13. There was no boat to beused in crossing, and the river was very high and angry, and about onehundred and fifty yards wide. We obtained an ax from a house near by, and proceeded to split logs and make a raft on which to cross, and bywhich to swim our horses. We had learned that two miles and a half belowus was a Federal cavalry camp. This stimulated us to the utmost, butnotwithstanding our greatest efforts we were three hours in crossingover five horses and twenty-five men. At this juncture the enemyappeared opposite, and began to fire on our men. 

[Illustration: "HURRY UP, MAJOR!"]

Here General Morgan gave characteristic evidence of devotion to hismen. When the firing began he insisted on staying with the dismountedmen and taking their chances, and was dissuaded only by my earnestappeal and representation that such a course would endanger the men aswell as ourselves. The men, by scattering in the mountains, didultimately make their way to the Confederacy. 

General Morgan, myself, and the four mounted men crossed over a spur ofthe mountains and descended by a bridle-path to a ravine or gulch uponthe opposite side, and halted in some thick underbrush about ten stepsfrom a path passing along the ravine. Not knowing the country, it wasnecessary to have information, or a guide, and observing a log cabinabout a hundred yards up the ravine, I rode there to get directions, leaving General Morgan and the others on their horses near the path. Ifound at the house a woman and some children. She could not direct meover the other spur of the mountain, but consented that her ten-year-oldson might go with me and show the way. He mounted behind me, and by thetime he was seated I heard the clatter of hoofs down the ravine, and, looking, I saw a body of about seventy-five cavalry coming directlytoward me, and passing within ten steps of where the general and his menwere sitting on their horses. I saw that my own escape was doubtful, andthat any halt or delay of the cavalry would certainly result in thediscovery and capture of General Morgan. I lifted the boy from behind meand dashed to the head of the column, exclaiming, "Hurry up, Major, orthe rebels will escape!" He responded, "Who are you?" I answered, "Ibelong to the home-guard company in the bend: hurry, or they are gone. "We dashed on, I riding by the major at the head of the column about halfa mile, when we came to where a dry branch crossed the road, and, as ithad been raining that day, it was easily seen from the soil that hadwashed down from the side of the mountain that no one had passed theresince the rain. Seeing this, the command was halted, and the major againdemanded to know who I was. I replied that I was a member of GeneralMorgan's command. "Yes, ---- you! You have led me off from Morgan; I havea notion to hang you for it. " "No, that was not General Morgan. I haveserved under him two years and know him well, and have no object indeceiving you; for if it was Morgan, he is now safe. " "You lie, for hewas recognized at the house where you got the ax. I would not havemissed getting him for ten thousand dollars. It would have been abrigadier's commission to me. I will hang you for it. " Up to this time Ihad taken the situation smilingly and pleasantly, because I did notapprehend violence; but the officer, livid with rage fromdisappointment, directed one of his men to take the halter from hishorse and hang me to a designated limb of a tree. The halter wasadjusted around my neck, and thrown over the limb. Seeing that theofficer was desperately in earnest, I said, "Major, before you performthis operation, allow me to make a suggestion. " "Be quick about it, then. " "Suppose that _was_ General Morgan, as you insist, and I have ledyou astray, as you insist, wouldn't I, being a member of his command, deserve to be hung if I had not done what you charge me with?" Hedropped his head for a moment, looked up with a more pleasantexpression, and said, "Boys, he is right; let him alone. "

[Illustration: CAPTAIN HINES OBJECTS. ]

I was placed under guard of two soldiers and sent across the river tocamp, while the officer in command took his men over the mountain insearch of General Morgan, who succeeded in making good his escape. Thenext evening the major returned with his command from his unsuccessfulpursuit. He questioned me closely, wanting to know my name, and if Iwas a private in the command, as I had stated to him at the time of mycapture. Remembering that in prison the underclothing of Captain Bullitthad been exchanged for mine, and that I then had on his with his name inink, I assumed the name of Bullitt. 

On the evening of the second day in this camp the major invited me to gowith him and take supper at the house of a Unionist half a mile away. Wespent the evening with the family until nine o'clock, when the majorsuggested that we should go back to camp. On reaching the front gate, twenty steps from the front veranda, he found that he had left his shawlin the house, and returned to get it, requesting me to await his return. A young lady of the family was standing in the door, and when he went into get the shawl, she closed the door. I was then perfectly free, but Icould not get my consent to go. For a moment of time while thus atliberty I suffered intensely in the effort to determine what was theproper thing to do. Upon the one hand was the tempting offer of freedom, that was very sweet to me after so many months of close confinement;while, on the other hand was the fact that the officer had treated mewith great kindness, more as a comrade than as a prisoner, that theacceptance of his hospitality was a tacit parole and my escape wouldinvolve him in trouble. I remained until his return. He was greatlyagitated, evidently realizing for the first time the extent of hisindiscretion, and surprised undoubtedly at finding me quietly awaitinghim. I had determined not to return to prison, but rather than breakfaith I awaited some other occasion for escape. Notwithstanding allthis, something excited suspicion of me; for the next morning, whilelying in the tent apparently asleep, I heard the officer direct thesergeant to detail ten men and guard me to Kingston, and he said to thesergeant, "Put him on the meanest horse you have and be watchful or hewill escape. " I was taken to Kingston and placed in jail, and there metthree of our party who had been captured on the north side of theTennessee River at the time we attempted to cross. They were R. C. Church, William Church, and ---- Smith. After two days' confinementthere, we were sent under guard of twelve soldiers to the camp of the 3dKentucky Federal Infantry, under command of Colonel Henry C. Dunlap. Thecamp was opposite the town of Loudon, and was prepared for winterquarters. The large forest trees had been felled for a quarter of a milearound the camp, and log huts built in regular lines for the occupationof the troops. We were placed in one of these huts with three guards onthe inside, while the guards who delivered us there were located arounda campfire some ten steps in front of the only door to our hut, andaround the whole encampment was the regular camp guard. The next day, aswe had learned, we were to be sent to Knoxville, Tennessee, which wasthen General Burnside's headquarters; and as I knew I would there berecognized, and, on account of my previous escape, that my chances forfreedom would be reduced to a minimum, we determined to escape thatnight. 

It was perfectly clear, the moon about full, making the camp almost aslight as day; and as the moon did not go down until a short time beforedaylight, we concluded to await its setting. The door of the cabin wasfastened by a latch on the inside. The night was cold. We had onlypretended to sleep, awaiting our opportunity. When the moon was down wearose, one after another, from our couches, and went to the fire to warmus. We engaged the guards in pleasant conversation, detailing incidentsof the war. I stood with my right next the door, facing the fire and thethree guards, and my comrades standing immediately on my left. Whilenarrating some incident in which the guards were absorbed, I placed myright hand upon the latch of the door, with a signal to the otherprisoners, and, without breaking the thread of the narrative, bade theguards good night, threw the door open, ran through the guards in frontof the door, passed the sentinel at the camp limits, and followed theroad we had been brought in to the mountains. The guards in front of thedoor fired upon me, as did the sentinel on his beat, the last shot beingso close to me that I felt the fire from the gun. Unfortunately andunwittingly I threw the door open with such force that it rebounded andcaught my comrades on the inside. The guards assaulted them andattempted to bayonet them, but they grappled, overpowered, and disarmedthe guards, and made terms with them before they would let them up. Allthree of these prisoners, by great daring, escaped before they weretaken North to prison. 

In running from the camp to the mountains I passed two sentinel fires, and was pursued some distance at the point of the bayonet of the soldierwho had last fired at me. All was hurry and confusion in the camp. Thehorses were bridled, saddled, and mounted, and rapidly ridden out onthe road I had taken; but by the time the pursuers reached the timber Iwas high up the mountain side, and complacently watched them as theyhurried by. As I ran from my prison-house I fixed my eye upon Venus, themorning star, as my guide, and traveled until daylight, when I reachedthe summit of the mountain, where I found a sedge-grass field of abouttwenty acres, in the middle of which I lay down on the frozen ground andremained until the sun had gone down and darkness was gathering. Duringthe day the soldiers in search of me frequently passed within thirtysteps, so close that I could hear their conjectures as to where I wasmost likely to be found. I remained so long in one position that Ithawed into the frozen earth; but the cool of the evening coming on, thesoil around me froze again, and I had some difficulty in releasingmyself. 

As it grew dark I descended the mountain, and cautiously approached ahumble dwelling. Seeing no one but a woman and some children, I enteredand asked for supper. While my supper was being prepared, no little tomy disappointment, the husband, a strapping, manly-looking fellow, withhis rifle on his shoulder, walked in. I had already assumed a character, and that was as agent to purchase horses for the Federal Government. Ihad come down that evening on the train from Knoxville, and was anxiousto get a canoe and some one to paddle me down to Kingston, where I hadan engagement for the next day to meet some gentlemen who were to havehorses there, by agreement with me, for sale. Could the gentleman tellme where I could get a canoe and some one to go with me? He said therebels were so annoying that all boats and canoes had been destroyed tokeep them from crossing. He knew of but one canoe, owned by a good Unionman some two miles down the river. Would he be kind enough to show methe way there, that I might get an early start and keep my engagement?

After supper my hospitable entertainer walked with me to the residenceof the owner of the canoe. The family had retired, and when the owner ofthe premises came out, there came with him a Federal soldier who wasstaying overnight with him. This was not encouraging. After making mybusiness known and offering large compensation, the owner of the canoeagreed to start with me by daylight. During my walk down there, my guidehad mentioned that a certain person living opposite the place where thecanoe was owned had several horses that he would like to sell. Isuggested that, in order to save time and get as early a start aspossible for Kingston, the canoe-owner should take me over to see to thepurchase of these horses that night. The river was high and dangerous tocross at night, but by promises of compensation I was taken over andlanded some quarter of a mile from the house. With an injunction toawait me, when the canoe landed I started toward the house; but when outof sight I changed my course and took to the mountains. 

For eight days I traveled by night, taking my course by the stars, lyingup in the mountains by day, and getting food early in the eveningwherever I could find a place where there were no men. On the 27th ofDecember I reached the Confederate lines near Dalton, Georgia. 

COLONEL ROSE'S TUNNEL AT LIBBY PRISON

BY FRANK E. MORAN

Among all the thrilling incidents in the history of Libby Prison, noneexceeds in interest the celebrated tunnel escape which occurred on thenight of February 9, 1864. I was one of the 109 Union officers whopassed through the tunnel, and one of the ill-fated 48 that wereretaken. I and two companions--Lieutenant Charles H. Morgan of the 21stWisconsin regiment, who has since served several terms in Congress fromMissouri, and Lieutenant William L. Watson of the same company andregiment--when recaptured by the Confederate cavalry were in sight ofthe Union picket posts. Strange as it may appear, no accurate andcomplete account has ever been given to the public of this, the mostingenious and daring escape made on either side during the civil war. Twelve of the party of fifteen who dug the tunnel are still living, including their leader. 

Thomas E. Rose, colonel of the 77th Pennsylvania Volunteers, theengineer and leader in the plot throughout, --now a captain in the 16thUnited States Infantry, --was taken prisoner at the battle ofChickamauga, September 20, 1863. On his way to Richmond he escaped fromhis guards at Weldon, N. C. , but, after a day's wandering about the pineforests with a broken foot, was retaken by a detachment of Confederatecavalry and sent to Libby Prison, Richmond, where he arrived October 1, 1863. 

[Illustration: COLONEL THOMAS E. ROSE. ]

Libby Prison fronts on Carey street, Richmond, and stands upon a hillwhich descends abruptly to the canal, from which its southern wall isdivided only by a street, and having a vacant lot on the east. Thebuilding was wholly detached, making it a comparatively easy matter toguard the prison securely with a small force and keep every door andwindow in full view from without. As an additional measure of safety, prisoners were not allowed on the ground-floor, except that in thedaytime they were permitted to use the first floor of the middlesection for a cook-room. The interior embraced nine largewarehouse-rooms 105 × 45, with eight feet from each floor to ceiling, except the upper floor, which gave more room, owing to the pitch of thegable roof. The abrupt slant of the hill gives the building anadditional story on the south side. The whole building really embracesthree sections, and these were originally separated by heavy blankwalls. The Confederates cut doors through the walls of the two upperfloors, which comprised the prisoners' quarters, and they were thuspermitted to mingle freely with each other; but there was nocommunication whatever between the three large rooms on the first floor. Beneath these floors were three cellars of the same dimensions as therooms above them, and, like them, divided from each other by massiveblank walls. For ready comprehension, let these be designated the east, middle, and west cellars. Except in the lofts known as "Streight's room"and "Milroy's room, " which were occupied by the earliest inmates ofLibby in 1863, there was no furniture in the building, and only a few ofthe early comers possessed such a luxury as an old army blanket or aknife, cup, and tin plate. As a rule, the prisoner, by the time hereached Libby, found himself devoid of earthly goods save the meager anddust-begrimed summer garb in which he had made his unlucky campaign. 

At night the six large lofts presented strange war-pictures, over whicha single tallow candle wept copious and greasy tears that ran down overthe petrified loaf of corn-broad, Borden's condensed-milk can, orbottle in which it was set. The candle flickered on until "taps, " whenthe guards, with unconscious irony shouted, "Lights out!"--at whichsignal it usually disappeared amid a shower of boots and such othermissiles as were at hand. The sleepers covered the six floors, lying inranks, head to head and foot to foot, like prostrate lines of battle. For the general good, and to preserve something like military precision, these ranks (especially when cold weather compelled them to lie closefor better warmth) were subdivided into convenient squads under chargeof a "captain, " who was invested with authority to see that every manlay "spoon fashion. "

[Illustration]

No consideration of personal convenience was permitted to interfere withthe general comfort of the "squad. " Thus, when the hard floor could nolonger be endured on the right side, --especially by the thin men, --thecaptain gave the command, "Attention, Squad Number Four! Prepare tospoon! One--two--spoon!" And the whole squad flopped over on the leftside. 

The first floor on the west of the building was used by the Confederatesas an office and for sleeping-quarters for the prison officials, and astairway guarded by sentinels led from this to Milroy's room just aboveit. As before explained, the middle room was shut off from the office bya heavy blank wall. This room, known as the "kitchen, " had two stoves init, one of which stood about ten feet from the heavy door that opened onCarey street sidewalk, and behind the door was a fireplace. The roomcontained also several long pine tables with permanent seats attached, such as may be commonly seen at picnic grounds. The floor was constantlyinundated here by several defective and overworked water-faucets and aleaky trough. 

A stairway without banisters led up on the southwest end of the floor, above which was a room known as the "Chickamauga room, " being chieflyoccupied by Chickamauga prisoners. The sentinel who had formerly beenplaced at this stairway at night, to prevent the prisoners from enteringthe kitchen, had been withdrawn when, in the fall of 1863, the horriblecondition of the floor made it untenable for sleeping purposes. 

The uses to which the large ground-floor room east of the kitchen wasput varied during the first two years of the war; but early in Octoberof 1863, and thereafter, it was permanently used and known as thehospital, and it contained a large number of cots, which were neverunoccupied. An apartment had been made at the north or front of theroom, which served as a doctor's office and laboratory. Like thoseadjoining it on the west, this room had a large door opening on Careystreet, which was heavily bolted and guarded on the outside. 

[Illustration: LIBBY PRISON IN 1865]

The arrival of the Chickamauga prisoners greatly crowded the upperfloors, and compelled the Confederates to board up a small portion ofthe east cellar at its southeast corner as an additional cook-room, several large caldrons having been set in a rudely built furnace; so, for a short period, the prisoners were allowed down there in the daytimeto cook. A stairway led from this cellar to the room above, whichsubsequently became the hospital. 

Such, in brief, was the condition of things when Colonel Rose arrived atthe prison. From the hour of his coming, a means of escape became hisconstant and eager study; and, with this purpose in view, he made acareful and minute survey of the entire premises. 

From the windows of the upper east or "Gettysburg room" he could lookacross the vacant lot on the east and get a glimpse of the yard between, two adjacent buildings which faced the canal and Carey streetrespectively, and he estimated the intervening space at about seventyfeet. From the south windows he looked out across a street upon thecanal and James River, running parallel with each other, the two streamsat this point being separated by a low and narrow strip of land. Thisstrip periodically disappeared when protracted seasons of heavy raincame, or when spring floods so rapidly swelled the river that the latterinvaded the cellars of Libby. At such times it was common to seeenormous swarms of rats come out from the lower doors and windows of theprison and make head for dry land in swimming platoons amid the cheersof the prisoners in the upper windows. On one or two occasions Roseobserved workmen descending from the middle of the south-side streetinto a sewer running through its center, and concluded that this sewermust have various openings to the canal both to the east and west of theprison. 

The north portion of the cellar contained a large quantity of loosepacking-straw, covering the floor to an average depth of two feet; andthis straw afforded shelter, especially at night, for a large colony ofrats, which gave the place the name of "Rat Hell. "

[Illustration: MAJOR A. G. HAMILTON. ]

In one afternoon's inspection of this dark end, Rose suddenlyencountered a fellow-prisoner, Major A. G. Hamilton, of the 12th KentuckyCavalry. A confiding friendship followed, and the two men entered atonce upon the plan of gaining their liberty. They agreed that the mostfeasible scheme was a tunnel, to begin in the rear of the littlekitchen-apartment at the southeast corner of Rat Hell. Without more adothey secured a broken shovel and two case-knives and began operations. 

Within a few days the Confederates decided upon certain changes in theprison for the greater security of their captives. A week afterward thecook-room was abandoned, the stairway nailed up, the prisoners sent tothe upper floors, and all communication with the east cellar was cutoff. This was a sore misfortune, for this apartment was the onlypossible base of successful tunnel operations. Colonel Rose now began tostudy other practicable means of escape, and spent night after nightexamining the posts and watching the movements of the sentinels on thefour sides of Libby. One very dark night, during a howling storm, Roseagain, unexpectedly met Hamilton in a place where no prisoner couldreasonably be looked for at such an hour. For an instant theimpenetrable darkness made it impossible for either to determine whetherhe had met a friend or foe: neither had a weapon, yet each involuntarilyfelt for one, and each made ready to spring at the other's throat, whena flash of lightning revealed their identity. The two men had availedthemselves of the darkness of the night and the roar of the storm toattempt an escape from a window of the upper west room to a platformthat ran along the west outer wall of the prison, from which they hopedto reach the ground and elude the sentinels, whom they conjectured wouldbe crouched in the shelter of some doorway or other partial refuge thatmight be available; but so vivid and frequent were the lightning flashesthat the attempt was seen to be extremely hazardous. 

Rose now spoke of the entrance from the south-side street to the middlecellar, having frequently noticed the entrance and exit of workmen atthat point, and expressed his belief that if an entrance could beeffected to this cellar it would afford them the only chance of slippingpast the sentinels. 

He hunted up a bit of pine-wood which he whittled into a sort of wedge, and the two men went down into the dark, vacant kitchen directly overthis cellar. With the wedge Rose pried a floor-board out of its place, and made an opening large enough to let himself through. He had neverbeen in this middle cellar, and was wholly ignorant of its contents orwhether it was occupied by Confederates or workmen; but as he had madeno noise, and the place was in profound darkness, he decided to go downand reconnoiter. 

He wrenched off one of the long boards that formed a table-seat in thekitchen, and found that it was long enough to touch the cellar base andprotrude a foot or so above the kitchen floor. By this means he easilydescended, leaving Hamilton to keep watch above. 

The storm still raged fiercely, and the faint beams of a street-lamprevealed the muffled form of the sentinel slowly pacing his beat andcarrying his musket at "secure" arms. Creeping softly toward him alongthe cellar wall, he now saw that what he had supposed was a door wassimply a naked opening to the street; and further inspection disclosedthe fact that there was but one sentinel on the south side of theprison. Standing in the dark shadow, he could easily have touched thisman with his hand as he repeatedly passed him. Groping about, he foundvarious appurtenances indicating that the south end of this cellar wasused for a carpenter's shop, and that the north end was partitioned offinto a series of small cells with padlocked doors, and that through eachdoor a square hole, a foot in diameter, was cut. Subsequently it waslearned that these dismal cages were alternately used for theconfinement of "troublesome prisoners"--_i. E. _, those who haddistinguished themselves by ingenious attempts to escape--and also forrunaway slaves, and Union spies under sentence of death. 

At the date of Rose's first reconnaissance to this cellar, these cellswere vacant and unguarded. The night was far spent, and Rose proceededto return to the kitchen, where Hamilton was patiently waiting for him. 

The very next day a rare good fortune befell Rose. By an agreementbetween the commissioners of exchange, several bales of clothing andblankets had been sent by our government to the famishing Unionprisoners on Belle Isle, a number of whom had already frozen to death. Acommittee of Union officers then confined in Libby, consisting ofGeneral Neal Dow, Colonel Alexander von Shrader, Lieut. -Colonel JosephF. Boyd, and Colonel Harry White, having been selected by theConfederates to supervise the distribution of the donation, ColonelWhite had, by a shrewd bit of finesse, "confiscated" a fine rope bywhich one of the bales was tied, and this he now presented to ColonelRose. It was nearly a hundred feet long, an inch thick, and almost new. 

It was hardly dark the following night before Rose and Hamilton wereagain in the kitchen, and as soon as all was quiet Rose fastened hisrope to one of the supporting posts, took up the floor-plank as before, and both men descended to the middle cellar. They were not a littledisappointed to discover that where there had been but one sentinel onthe south side there were now two. On this and for several nights theycontented themselves with sly visits of observation to this cellar, during which Rose found and secreted various tools, among which were abroad-ax, a saw, two chisels, several files, and a carpenter's square. One dark night both men went down and determined to try their luck atpassing the guards. Rose made the attempt and succeeded in passing thefirst man, but unluckily was seen by the second. The latter calledlustily for the corporal of the guard, and the first excitedly cockedhis gun and peered into the dark door through which Rose swiftlyretreated. The guard called, "Who goes there?" but did not enter thedark cellar. Rose and Hamilton mounted the rope and had just succeededin replacing the plank when the corporal and a file of men entered thecellar with a lantern. They looked into every barrel and under everybench, but no sign of Yankees appeared; and as on this night it happenedthat several workmen were sleeping in an apartment at the north end, thecorporal concluded that the man seen by the sentinel was one of these, notwithstanding their denial when awakened and questioned. After a longparley the Confederates withdrew, and Hamilton and Rose, depressed inspirits, went to bed, Rose as usual concealing his rope. 

Before the week was out they were at it again. On one of these nightsRose suddenly came upon one of the workmen, and, swift as thought, seized the hidden broad-ax with the intention of braining him if heattempted an alarm; but the poor fellow was too much paralyzed to cryout, and when finally he did recover his voice and his wits, it was tobeg Rose, "for God's sake, " not to come in there again at night. Evidently the man never mentioned the circumstance, for Rose'ssubsequent visits, which were soon resumed, disclosed no evidence of adiscovery by the Confederates. 

Hamilton agreed with Rose that there remained apparently but one meansof escape, and that was by force. To overpower the two sentinels on thesouth side would have been an easy matter, but how to do it and notalarm the rest of the guard, and, in consequence, the whole city, wasthe problem. To secure these sentinels, without alarming their comradeson the east, west, and north sides of the prison, would require theswift action of several men of nerve acting in concert. Precious timewas passing, and possibly further alterations might be decided upon thatwould shut them off from the middle cellar, as they had already beenfrom their original base of operations. Moreover, a new cause of anxietynow appeared. It soon transpired that their nocturnal prowlings andclose conferences together had already aroused the belief among manyobservant prisoners that a plan of escape was afoot, and both men weresoon eagerly plied with guarded inquiries, and besought by theirquestioners to admit them to their confidence. 

[Illustration: LIBBY PRISON IN 1884. ]

Hamilton and Rose now decided to organize an escaping party. A number ofmen were then sworn to secrecy and obedience by Colonel Rose, who wasthe only recognized leader in all operations that followed. This partysoon numbered seventy men. The band was then taken down by Rose inconvenient details to the middle cellar or carpenter's shop on manynights, to familiarize each man with the place and with his special partin the plot, and also to take advantage of any favoring circumstancesthat might arise. 

When all had by frequent visits become familiar with the rendezvous, Rose and the whole party descended one night with the determination toescape at whatever hazard. The men were assigned to their severalstations as usual, and a selected few were placed by the leader close tothe entrance, in front of which the sentinel was regularly passing. Rosecommanded strict silence, and placed himself near the exit preparatoryto giving the signal. It was an exciting moment, and the bravest heartbeat fast. A signal came, but not the one they looked for. At the verymoment of action, the man whom Rose had left at the floor-opening in thekitchen gave the danger-signal! The alert leader had, with consummatecare, told every man beforehand that he must never be surprised by thissignal, --it was a thing to be counted upon, --and that noise and panicwere of all things to be avoided as fatal folly in their operations. Asa consequence, when this signal came, Rose quietly directed the men tofall in line and reascend to the kitchen rapidly, but without noise, which they did by the long rope which now formed the easy means ofcommunication from the kitchen to the cellar. 

Rose remained below to cover the retreat, and when the last man got uphe followed him, replaced the board in the floor, and concealed therope. He had barely done so when a detail of Confederate guards enteredthe kitchen from the Carey street door, and, headed by an officer, marched straight in his direction. Meantime the party had disappeared upthe stairway and swiftly made their way over their prostrate comrades'forms to their proper sleeping-places. Rose, being the last up, andhaving the floor to fix, had now no time to disappear like hiscompanions, at least without suspicious haste. He accordingly took aseat at one of the tables, and, putting an old pipe in his mouth, coollyawaited the approach of the Confederates. The officer of the guard camealong, swinging his lantern almost in his face, stared at him for asecond, and without a remark or a halt marched past him and ascendedwith his escort to the Chickamauga room. The entrance of a guard andtheir march around the prison, although afterward common enough aftertaps, was then an unusual thing, causing much talk among the prisoners, and to the mind of Rose and his fellow-plotters was indicative ofaroused suspicion on the part of the Confederates. 

The whispering groups of men next day, and the number of his eagerquestioners, gave the leader considerable concern; and Hamiltonsuggested, as a measure of safety rather than choice, that some of themischievous talk of escape would be suppressed by increasing the party. This was acted upon; the men, like the rest, were put under oath byRose, and the party was thus increased to four hundred and twenty. Thisforce would have been enough to overpower the prison guard in a fewminutes, but the swift alarm certain to ensue in the streets and spreadlike wild-fire over Richmond, the meager information possessed by theprisoners as to the strength and position of the nearest Federaltroops, the strongly guarded labyrinth of breastworks that encircled thecity, and the easy facilities for instant pursuit at the command of theConfederates, put the success of such an undertaking clearly out of therange of probability, unless, indeed, some unusual favoring contingencyshould arise, such as the near approach of a coöperating column ofFederal cavalry. 

Nor was this an idle dream, as the country now knows, for even at thisperiod General Kilpatrick was maturing his plans for that boldexpedition for the rescue of the prisoners at Richmond and Belle Isle inwhich the lamented and heroic young cripple, Colonel Ulric Dahlgren, lost his life. Rose saw that a break out of Libby without such outsideassistance promised nothing but a fruitless sacrifice of life and thesavage punishment of the survivors. Hence the project, although eagerlyand exhaustively discussed, was prudently abandoned. 

All talk of escape by the general crowd now wholly ceased, and thecaptives resigned themselves to their fate and waited with depressedspirits for the remote contingency of an exchange. The quiet thus gainedwas Rose's opportunity. He sought Hamilton and told him that they mustby some stratagem regain access to Rat Hell, and that the tunnel projectmust be at once revived. The latter assented to the proposition, and thetwo began earnestly to study the means of gaining an entrance withoutdiscovery into this coveted base of operations. 

They could not even get into the room above the cellar they wanted toreach, for that was the hospital, and the kitchen's heavy wall shutthem off therefrom. Neither could they break the heavy wall that dividedthis cellar from the carpenter's shop, which had been the nightlyrendezvous of the party while the breakout was under consideration, forthe breach certainly would be discovered by the workmen or Confederates, some of whom were in there constantly during daylight. 

There was, in fact, but one plan by which Rat Hell could be reachedwithout detection, and the conception of this device and its successfulexecution were due to the stout-hearted Hamilton. This was to cut a holein the back of the kitchen fireplace; the incision must be just farenough to preserve the opposite or hospital side intact. It must then becut downward to a point below the level of the hospital floor, theneastward into Rat Hell, the completed opening thus to describe theletter "S. " It must be wide enough to let a man through, yet the wallmust not be broken on the hospital side above the floor, nor marred onthe carpenter's-shop side below it. Such a break would be fatal, forboth of these points were conspicuously exposed to the view of theConfederates every hour in the day. Moreover, it was imperativelynecessary that all trace of the beginning of the opening should beconcealed, not only from the Confederate officials and guards, who wereconstantly passing the spot every day, but from the hundreds ofuninitiated prisoners who crowded around the stove just in front of itfrom dawn till dark. 

Work could be possible only between the hours of ten at night, when theroom was generally abandoned by the prisoners because of its inundatedcondition, and four o'clock in the morning, when the earliest riserswere again astir. It was necessary to do the work with an old jack-knifeand one of the chisels previously secured by Rose. It must be done indarkness and without noise, for a vigilant sentinel paced on the Careystreet sidewalk just outside the door and within ten feet of thefireplace. A rubber blanket was procured, and the soot from the chimneycarefully swept into it. Hamilton, with his old knife, cut the mortarbetween the bricks and pried a dozen of them out, being careful topreserve them whole. 

The rest of the incision was made in accordance with the designdescribed, but no conception could have been formed beforehand of thesickening tediousness of cutting an S-shaped hole through a heavy wallwith a feeble old jack-knife, in stolen hours of darkness. Rose guardedhis comrade against the constant danger of interruption by alert enemieson one side and by blundering friends on the other; and, as frequentlyhappens in human affairs, their friends gave them more trouble thantheir foes. Night after night passed, and still the two men got up aftertaps from their hard beds, and descended to the dismal and reekingkitchen to bore for liberty. When the sentinel's call at Castle Thunderand at Libby announced four o'clock, the dislodged bricks were carefullyreplaced, and the soot previously gathered in the gum blanket was flungin handfuls against the restored wall, filling the seams between thebricks so thoroughly as to defy detection. At last, after many wearynights, Hamilton's heroic patience and skill were rewarded, and the waywas open to the coveted base of operations, Rat Hell. 

Now occurred a circumstance that almost revealed the plot and nearlyended in a tragedy. When the opening was finished, the long rope wasmade fast to one of the kitchen supporting posts, and Rose proceeded todescend and reconnoiter. He got partly through with ease, but lost hishold in such a manner that his body slipped through so as to pinion hisarms and leave him wholly powerless either to drop lower or return--thebend of the hole being such as to cramp his back and neck terribly andprevent him from breathing. He strove desperately, but each effort onlywedged him more firmly in the awful vise. Hamilton sprang to his aid anddid his utmost to effect his release; but, powerful as he was, he couldnot budge him. Rose was gasping for breath and rapidly getting fainter, but even in this fearful strait he refrained from an outcry that wouldcertainly alarm the guards just outside the door. Hamilton saw thatwithout speedy relief his comrade must soon smother. He dashed throughthe long, dark room up the stairway, over the forms of several hundredmen, and disregarding consequences and savage curses in the dark andcrowded room, he trampled upon arms, legs, faces, and stomachs, leavingriot and blasphemy in his track among the rudely awakened and nowfurious lodgers of the Chickamauga room. He sought the sleeping-place ofMajor George H. Fitzsimmons, but he was missing. He, however, foundLieutenant F. F. Bennett, of the 18th Regulars (since a major in the 9thUnited States Cavalry), to whom he told the trouble in a few hastywords. Both men fairly flew across the room, dashed down the stairs, and by their united efforts Rose, half dead and quite speechless, wasdrawn up from the fearful trap. 

Hamilton managed slightly to increase the size of the hole and provideagainst a repetition of the accident just narrated, and all being nowready, the two men entered eagerly upon the work before them. Theyappropriated one of the wooden spittoons of the prison, and to each sideattached a piece of clothes-line which they had been permitted to haveto dry clothes on. Several bits of candle and the larger of the twochisels were also taken to the operating-cellar. They kept this secretwell, and worked alone for many nights. In fact, they would have socontinued, but they found that after digging about four feet theircandle would go out in the vitiated air. Rose did the digging, andHamilton fanned air into him with his hat: even then he had to emergeinto the cellar every few minutes to breathe. Rose could dig, but neededthe light and air; and Hamilton could not fan, and drag out and depositthe excavated earth, and meantime keep a lookout. In fact, it wasdemonstrated that there was slim chance of succeeding without moreassistance, and it was decided to organize a party large enough foreffective work by reliefs. As a preliminary step, and to afford themeans of more rapid communication with the cellar from the fireplaceopening, the long rope obtained from Colonel White was formed byHamilton into a rope-ladder with convenient wooden rungs. Thisalteration considerably increased its bulk, and added to Rose'sdifficulty in concealing it from curious eyes. 

He now made a careful selection of thirteen men besides himself andHamilton, and bound them by a solemn oath to secrecy and strictobedience. To form this party as he wanted it required some diplomacy, as it was known that the Confederates had on more than one occasion sentcunning spies into Libby disguised as Union prisoners, for the detectionof any contemplated plan of escape. Unfortunately, the complete list ofthe names of the party now formed has not been preserved; but among theparty, besides Rose and Hamilton, were Captain John Sterling, 30thIndiana; Captain John Lucas, 5th Kentucky Cavalry; Captain Isaac N. Johnson, 6th Kentucky Cavalry; and Lieutenant F. F. Bennett, 18thRegulars. 

The party, being now formed, were taken to Rat Hell and their severalduties explained to them by Rose, who was invested with full authorityover the work in hand. Work was begun in rear of the little kitchen-roompreviously abandoned at the southeast corner of the cellar. Tosystematize the labor, the party was divided into squads of five each, which gave the men one night on duty and two off, Rose assigning eachman to the branch of work in which experiments proved him the mostproficient. He was himself, by long odds, the best digger of the party;while Hamilton had no equal for ingenious mechanical skill in contrivinghelpful, little devices to overcome or lessen the difficulties thatbeset almost every step of the party's progress. 

The first plan was to dig down alongside the east wall and under ituntil it was passed, then turn southward and make for the large streetsewer next the canal and into which Rose had before noticed workmendescending. This sewer was a large one, believed to be fully six feethigh, and, if it could be gained, there could be little doubt that anadjacent opening to the canal would be found to the eastward. It wasvery soon revealed, however, that the lower side of Libby was built uponponderous timbers, below which they could not hope to penetrate withtheir meager stock of tools--such, at least, was the opinion of nearlyall the party. Rose nevertheless determined that the effort should bemade, and they were soon at work with old penknives and case-kniveshacked into saws. After infinite labor they at length cut through thegreat logs, only to be met by an unforeseen and still more formidablebarrier. Their tunnel, in fact, had penetrated below the level of thecanal. Water began to filter in--feebly at first, but at last it brokein with a rush that came near drowning Rose, who barely had time to makehis escape. This opening was therefore plugged up; and to do thisrapidly and leave no dangerous traces put the party to their wit's end. 

An attempt was next made to dig into a small sewer that ran from thesoutheast corner of the prison into the main sewer. After a number ofnights of hard labor, this opening was extended to a point below a brickfurnace in which were incased several caldrons. The weight of thisfurnace caused a cave-in near the sentinel's path outside the prisonwall. Next day, a group of officers were seen eying the break curiously. Rose, listening at a window above, heard the words "rats" repeated bythem several times, and took comfort. The next day he entered the cellaralone, feeling that if the suspicions of the Confederates were reallyawakened a trap would be set for him in Rat Hell, and determined, ifsuch were really the case, that he would be the only victim caught. Hetherefore entered the little partitioned corner room with some anxiety, but there was no visible evidence of a visit by the guards, and hisspirits again rose. 

The party now reassembled, and an effort was made to get into the smallsewer that ran from the cook-room to the big sewer which Rose was soeager to reach; but soon it was discovered, to the utter dismay of theweary party, that this wood-lined sewer was too small to let a manthrough it. Still it was hoped by Rose that by removing the plank withwhich it was lined the passage could be made. The spirits of the partywere by this time considerably dashed by their repeated failures andsickening work; but the undaunted Rose, aided by Hamilton, persuaded themen to another effort, and soon the knives and toy saws were at workagain with vigor. The work went on so swimmingly that it was confidentlybelieved that an entrance to the main sewer would be gained on the nightof January 26, 1864. 

On the night of the 25th two men had been left down in Rat Hell to coverany remaining traces of a tunnel, and when night came again it wasexpected that all would be ready for the escape between eight and nineo'clock. In the mean time, the two men were to enter and make carefulexamination of the main sewer and its adjacent outlets. The party, whichwas now in readiness for its march to the Federal camps, waited tidingsfrom these two men all next day in tormenting anxiety, and the wearyhours went by on leaden wings. At last the sickening word came that theplanks yet to be removed before they could enter the main sewer were ofseasoned oak--hard as bone, and three inches thick. Their feeble toolswere now worn out or broken; they could no longer get air to work, orkeep a light in the horrible pit, which was reeking with cold mud; inshort, any attempt at further progress with the utensils at hand wasfoolish. 

Most of the party were now really ill from the foul stench in which theyhad lived so long. The visions of liberty that had first lured them todesperate efforts under the inspiration of Rose and Hamilton had at lastfaded, and one by one they lost heart and hope, and frankly told ColonelRose that they could do no more. The party was therefore disbanded, andthe yet sanguine leader, with Hamilton for his sole helper, continuedthe work alone. Up to this time thirty-nine nights had been spent in thework of excavation. The two men now made a careful examination of thenortheast corner of the cellar, at which point the earth's surfaceoutside the prison wall, being eight or nine feet higher than at thecanal or south side, afforded a better place to dig than the latter, being free from water and with clay-top enough to support itself. Theunfavorable feature of this point was that the only possible terminus ofa tunnel was a yard between the buildings beyond the vacant lot on theeast of Libby. Another objection was that, even when the tunnel shouldbe made to that point, the exit of any escaping party must be madethrough an arched wagon-way under the building that faced the street onthe canal side, and every man must emerge on the sidewalk in sight ofthe sentinel on the south side of the prison, the intervening spacebeing in the full glare of the gas-lamp. It was carefully noted, howeverby Rose, long before this, that the west end of the beat of the nearestsentinel was between fifty and sixty feet from the point of egress, andit was concluded that by walking away at the moment the sentinelcommenced his pace westward, one would be far enough into the shadow tomake it improbable that the color of his clothing could be made out bythe sentinel when he faced about to return toward the eastern end of hisbeat, which terminated ten to fifteen feet east of the prison wall. Itwas further considered that as these sentinels had for their specialduty the guarding of the prison, they would not be eager to burdenthemselves with the duty of molesting persons seen in the vicinityoutside of their jurisdiction, provided, of course, that the retreatingforms--many of which they must certainly see--were not recognized asYankees. All others they might properly leave for the challenge andusual examination of the provost guard who patrolled the streets ofRichmond. 

The wall of that east cellar had to be broken in three places before aplace was found where the earth was firm enough to support a tunnel. Thetwo men worked on with stubborn patience, but their progress waspainfully slow. Rose dug assiduously, and Hamilton alternately fannedair to his comrade and dragged out and hid the excavated dirt, but theold difficulty confronted him. The candle would not burn, the air couldnot be fanned fast enough with a hat, and the dirt hidden, withoutbetter contrivances or additional help. 

Rose now reassembled the party, and selected from them a number who werewilling to renew the attempt. [12] Against the east wall stood a seriesof stone fenders abutting inward, and these, being at uniform intervalsof about twenty feet, cast deep shadows that fell toward the prisonfront. In one of these dark recesses the wall was pierced, well uptoward the Carey street end. The earth here has very densely compressedsand, that offered a strong resistance to the broad-bladed chisel, whichwas their only effective implement, and it was clear that a long turn ofhard work must be done to penetrate under the fifty-foot lot to theobjective point. The lower part of the tunnel was about six inches abovethe level of the cellar floor, and its top about two and a half feet. Absolute accuracy was of course impossible, either in giving the hole aperfectly horizontal direction or in preserving uniform dimensions; buta fair level was preserved, and the average diameter of the tunnel was alittle over two feet. Usually one man would dig, and fill the spittoonwith earth; upon the signal of a gentle pull, an assistant would dragthe load into the cellar by the clothes-lines fastened to each side ofthis box and then hide it under the straw; a third constantly fanned airinto the tunnel with a rubber blanket stretched across a frame, theinvention of the ingenious Hamilton; a fourth would give occasionalrelief to the last two; while a fifth would keep a lookout. 

[Footnote 12: The party now consisted of Colonel Thomas E. Rose, 77thPennsylvania; Major A. G. Hamilton, 12th Kentucky; Captain TerranceClark, 79th Illinois; Major George H. Fitzsimmons, 30th Indiana; CaptainJohn F. Gallagher, 2d Ohio: Captain W. S. B. Randall, 2d Ohio; CaptainJohn Lucas, 5th Kentucky; Captain I. N. Johnson, 6th Kentucky; Major B. B. McDonald, 101st Ohio; Lieutenant N. S. McKean, 21st Illinois; LieutenantDavid Garbett, 77th Pennsylvania; Lieutenant J. C. Fislar, 7th IndianaArtillery; Lieutenant John D. Simpson, 10th Indiana; Lieutenant JohnMitchell, 79th Illinois; and Lieutenant Eli Foster, 30th Indiana. Thisparty was divided into three reliefs, as before, and the work ofbreaking the cellar wall was successfully done the first night byMcDonald and Clark. ]

The danger of discovery was continual, for the guards were underinstructions from the prison commandant to make occasional visits toevery accessible part of the building; so that it was not unusual for asergeant and several men to enter the south door of Rat Hell in thedaytime, while the diggers were at labor in the dark north end. Duringthese visits the digger would watch the intruders with his head stickingout of the tunnel, while the others would crouch behind the low stonefenders, or crawl quickly under the straw. This was, however, souninviting a place that the Confederates made this visit as brief as anominal compliance with their orders permitted, and they did not oftenventure into the dark north end. The work was fearfully monotonous, andthe more so because absolute silence was commanded, the men moving aboutmutely in the dark. The darkness caused them frequently to becomebewildered and lost; and as Rose could not call out for them, he hadoften to hunt all over the big dungeon to gather them up and pilot themto their places. 

The difficulty of forcing air to the digger, whose body nearly filledthe tunnel, increased as the hole was extended, and compelled theoperator to back often into the cellar for air, and for air that wasitself foul enough to sicken a strong man. 

But they were no longer harassed with the water and timbers that hadimpeded their progress at the south end. Moreover, experience was dailymaking each man more proficient in the work. Rose urged them on withcheery enthusiasm, and their hopes rose high, for already they hadpenetrated beyond the sentinel's beat and were nearing the goal. 

The party off duty kept a cautious lookout from the upper east windowsfor any indications of suspicion on the part of the Confederates. Inthis extreme caution was necessary, both to avert the curiosity ofprisoners in those east rooms, and to keep out of the range of bulletsfrom the guards, who were under a standing order to fire at a head ifseen at a window, or at a hand if placed on the bars that secured them. A sentinel's bullet one day cut a hole in the ear of Lieutenant Hammond;another officer was wounded in the face by a bullet, which fortunatelyfirst splintered against one of the window-bars; and a captain of anOhio regiment was shot through the head and instantly killed whilereading a newspaper. He was violating no rule whatever, and when shotwas from eight to ten feet inside the window through which the bulletcame. This was a wholly unprovoked and wanton murder; the cowardlymiscreant had fired the shot while he was off duty, and from the northsidewalk of Carey street. The guards (home guards they were) used, infact, to gun for prisoners' heads from their posts below, pretty muchafter the fashion of boys after squirrels; and the whizz of a bulletthrough the windows became too common an occurrence to occasion remarkunless some one was shot. 

Under a standing rule, the twelve hundred prisoners were counted twiceeach day, the first count being made about nine in the morning, and thelast about four in the afternoon. This duty was habitually done by theclerk of the prison, E. W. Ross, a civilian employed by the commandant. He was christened "Little Ross"[13] by the prisoners, because of hisdiminutive size. Ross was generally attended by either "Dick" Turner, Adjutant Latouche, or Sergeant George Stansil, of the 18th Georgia, witha small guard to keep the prisoners in four closed ranks during thecount. The commandant of the prison, Major Thomas P. Turner (no relativeof Dick's), seldom came up-stairs. 

[Footnote 13: "Little Ross" was burned to death, with other guests, atthe Spotswood House, Richmond, in 1873. ]

To conceal the absence of the five men who were daily at work at thetunnel, their comrades of the party off digging duty resorted, underRose's supervision, to a device of "repeating. " This scheme, which wasof vital importance to hoodwink the Confederates and avert mischievouscuriosity among the uninformed prisoners, was a hazardous business thatseverely taxed the ingenuity and strained the nerve of the leader andhis coadjutors. The manner of the fraud varied with circumstances, butin general it was worked by five of Rose's men, after being counted ator near the head of the line, stooping down and running toward the footof the ranks, where a few moments later they were counted a second time, thus making Ross's book balance. The whole five, however, could notalways do this undiscovered, and perhaps but three of the number couldrepeat. These occasional mishaps threatened to dethrone the reason ofthe puzzled clerk; but in the next count the "repeaters" would succeedin their game, and for the time all went well, until one day some of theprisoners took it into their heads, "just for the fun of the thing, " toimitate the repeaters. Unconscious of the curses that the party werementally hurling at them, the meddlers' sole purpose was to make "LittleRoss" mad. In this they certainly met with signal success, for thereason of the mystified clerk seemed to totter as he repeated the countover and over in the hope of finding out how one careful count wouldshow that three prisoners were missing and the next an excess offifteen. Finally Ross, lashed into uncontrollable fury by the sarcasticremarks of his employers and the heartless merriment of the grinningYanks before him, poured forth his goaded soul as follows:

"Now, gentlemen, look yere. I can count a hundred as good as any blankman in this yere town, but I'll be blank blanked if I can count ahundred of you blanked Yankees. Now, gentlemen, there's one thing sho:there's eight or ten of you-uns yere that ain't yere!"

This extraordinary accusation "brought down the house, " and theConfederate officers and guards, and finally Ross himself, were caughtby the resistless contagion of laughter that shook the rafters of Libby. 

The officials somehow found a balance that day on the books, and thedanger was for this once over, to the infinite relief of Rose and hisanxious comrades. But the Confederates appeared dissatisfied withsomething, and came up-stairs next morning with more officers and withdouble the usual number of guards; and some of these were now stationedabout the room so as to make it next to impossible to work the repeatingdevice successfully. On this day, for some reason, there were but twomen in the cellar, and these were Major B. B. McDonald and Captain I. N. Johnson. 

The count began as usual, and despite the guard in rear, two of theparty attempted the repeating device by forcing their way through thecenter of the ranks toward the left; but the "fun of the thing" had nowworn out with the unsuspecting meddlers, who resisted the passage of thetwo men. This drew the attention of the Confederate officers, and therepeaters were threatened with punishment. The result was inevitable:the count showed two missing. It was carefully repeated, with the sameresult. To the dismay of Rose and his little band, the prison registerwas now brought up-stairs and a long, tedious roll-call by name wasendured, each man passing through a narrow door as his name was called, and between a line of guards. 

No stratagem that Rose could now invent could avert the discovery by theConfederates that McDonald and Johnson had disappeared, and the mysteryof their departure would be almost certain to cause an inquiry andinvestigation that would put their plot in peril and probably reveal it. 

At last the "J's" were reached, and the name of I. N. Johnson was lustilyshouted and repeated, with no response. The roll-call proceeded untilthe name of B. B. McDonald was reached. To the increasing amazement ofeverybody but the conspirators, he also had vanished. A careful note wastaken of these two names by the Confederates, and a thousand tongueswere now busy with the names of the missing men and their singulardisappearance. 

The conspirators were in a tight place, and must choose between twothings. One was for the men in the cellar to return that night and facethe Confederates with the most plausible explanation of their absencethat they could invent, and the other alternative was the revolting oneof remaining in their horrible abode until the completion of the tunnel. 

When night came the fireplace was opened, and the unlucky pair wereinformed of the situation of affairs and asked to choose between thealternatives presented. McDonald decided to return and face the music;but Johnson, doubtful if the Confederates would be hoodwinked by anyexplanation, voted to remain where he was and wait for the finish of thetunnel. 

As was anticipated, McDonald's return awakened almost as much curiosityamong the inhabitants of Libby as his disappearance, and he was sooncalled to account by the Confederates. He told them he had fallen asleepin an out-of-the-way place in the upper west room, where the guards musthave overlooked him during the roll-call of the day before. McDonald wasnot further molested. The garrulous busybodies, who were Rose's chiefdread, told the Confederate officials that they had certainly slept nearJohnson the night before the day he was missed. Lieutenant J. C. Fislar(of the working party), who also slept next to Johnson, boldly declaredthis a case of mistaken identity, and confidently expressed his beliefto both Confederates and Federals who gathered around him that Johnsonhad escaped, and was by this time, no doubt, safe in the Union lines. Tothis he added the positive statement that Johnson had not been in hisaccustomed sleeping-place for a good many nights. The busybodies, whohad indeed told the truth, looked at the speaker in speechlessamazement, but reiterated their statements. Others of the conspirators, however, took Fislar's bold cue and stoutly corroborated him. 

Johnson, was, of course, nightly fed by his companions, and gave themsuch assistance as he could at the work; but it soon became apparentthat a man could not long exist in such a pestilential atmosphere. Notongue can tell how long were the days and nights the poor fellow passedamong the squealing rats, --enduring the sickening air, the deathlychill, the horrible, interminable darkness. One day out of three was anordeal for the workers, who at least had a rest of two days afterward. As a desperate measure of relief, it was arranged, with the utmostcaution, that late each night Johnson should come up-stairs, when allwas dark and the prison in slumber, and sleep among the prisoners untiljust before the time for closing the fireplace opening, about fouro'clock each morning. As he spoke to no one and the room was dark, hispresence was never known, even to those who lay next to him; and indeedhe listened to many earnest conversations between his neighborsregarding his wonderful disappearance. [14]

[Footnote 14: In a volume entitled "Four Months in Libby, " CaptainJohnson has related his experience at this time, and his subsequentescape. ]

As a matter of course, the incidents above narrated made day-work on thetunnel too hazardous to be indulged in, on account of the increaseddifficulty of accounting for absentees; but the party continued thenight-work with unabated industry. 

When the opening had been extended nearly across the lot, some of theparty believed they had entered under the yard which was the intendedterminus; and one night, when McDonald was the digger, so confident washe that the desired distance had been made, that he turned his directionupward, and soon broke through to the surface. A glance showed him hisnearly fatal blunder, against which, indeed, he had been earnestlywarned by Rose, who from the first had carefully estimated theintervening distance between the east wall of Libby and the terminus. Infact, McDonald saw that he had broken through in the open lot which wasall in full view of a sentinel who was dangerously close. Appalled bywhat he had done, he retreated to the cellar and reported the disasterto his companions. Believing that discovery was now certain, the partysent one of their number up the rope to report to Rose, who was asleep. The hour was about midnight when the leader learned of the mischief. Hequickly got up, went down cellar, entered the tunnel, and examined thebreak. It was not so near the sentinel's path as McDonald's excitedreport indicated, and fortunately the breach was at a point whence thesurface sloped downward toward the east. He took off his blouse andstuffed it into the opening, pulling the dirt over it noiselessly, andin a few minutes there was little surface evidence of the hole. He thenbacked into the cellar in the usual crab fashion, and gave directionsfor the required depression of the tunnel and vigorous resumption ofthe work. The hole made in the roof of the tunnel was not much largerthan a rat-hole and could not be seen from the prison. But the nextnight Rose shoved an old shoe out of the hole, and the day afterward helooked down through the prison bars and saw the shoe lying where he hadplaced it, and judged from its position that he had better incline thedirection of the tunnel slightly to the left. 

Meantime Captain Johnson was dragging out a wretched existence in RatHell, and for safety was obliged to confine himself by day to the darknorth end, for the Confederates often came into the place very suddenlythrough the south entrance. When they ventured too close, Johnson wouldget into a pit that he had dug under the straw as a hiding-hole both forhimself and the tunnelers' tools, and quickly cover himself with a hugeheap of short packing-straw. A score of times he came near being steppedupon by the Confederates, and more than once the dust of the strawcompelled him to sneeze in their very presence. 

On Saturday, February 6, a larger party than usual of the Confederatescame into the cellar, walked by the very mouth, of the tunnel, andseemed to be making a critical survey of the entire place. They remainedan unusually long time and conversed in low tones; several of them evenkicked the loose straw about; and in fact everything seemed to indicateto Johnson--who was the only one of the working party now in thecellar--that the long-averted discovery had been made. That night hereported matters fully to Rose at the fireplace opening. 

The tunnel was now nearly completed, and when Rose conveyed Johnson'smessage to the party it caused dismay. Even the stout-hearted Hamiltonwas for once excited, and the leader whose unflinching fortitude hadthus far inspired his little band had his brave spirits dashed. But hisbuoyant courage rose quickly to its high and natural level. He could notlonger doubt that the suspicions of the Confederates were aroused, buthe felt convinced that these suspicions had not as yet assumed such adefinite shape as most of his companions thought; still, he had abundantreason to believe that the success of the tunnel absolutely demanded itsspeedy completion, and he now firmly resolved that a desperate effortshould be made to that end. Remembering that the next day was Sunday, and that it was not customary for the Confederates to visit theoperating-cellar on that day, he determined to make the most in hispower of the now precious time. He therefore caused all the party toremain up-stairs, directing them to keep a close watch upon theConfederates from all available points of observation, to avoid beingseen in whispering groups, --in short, to avoid all things calculated toexcite the curiosity of friends or the suspicion of enemies, --and toawait his return. 

Taking McDonald with him, he went down through the fireplace beforedaylight on Sunday morning, and, bidding Johnson to keep a vigilantwatch for intruders and McDonald to fan air into him, he entered thetunnel and began the forlorn hope. From this time forward he never onceturned over the chisel to a relief. 

All day long he worked with the tireless patience of a beaver. Whennight came, even his single helper, who performed the double duty offanning air and hiding the excavated earth, was ill from his hard, longtask and the deadly air of the cellar. Yet this was as nothing comparedwith the fatigue of the duty that Rose had performed; and when at last, far into the night, he backed into the cellar, he had scarcely strengthenough to stagger across to the rope-ladder. 

He had made more than double the distance that had been accomplishedunder the system of reliefs on any previous day, and the non-appearanceof the Confederates encouraged the hope that another day, withoutinterruption, would see the work completed. He therefore determined torefresh himself by a night's sleep for the finish. The drooping spiritsof his party were revived by the report of his progress and hisunalterable confidence. 

Monday morning dawned, and the great prison with its twelve hundredcaptives was again astir. The general crowd did not suspect thesuppressed excitement and anxiety of the little party that waitedthrough that interminable day, which they felt must determine the fateof their project. 

Rose had repeated the instructions of the day before, and againdescended to Rat Hell with McDonald for his only helper. Johnsonreported all quiet, and McDonald taking up his former duties at thetunnel's mouth, Rose once more entered with his chisel. It was now theseventeenth day since the present tunnel was begun, and he resolved itshould be the last. Hour after hour passed, and still the busy chiselwas plied, and still the little wooden box with its freight of earthmade its monotonous trips from the digger to his comrade and back again. 

From the early morning of Monday, February 8, 1864, until an hour aftermidnight the next morning his work went on. As midnight approached, Rosewas nearly a physical wreck: the perspiration dripped from every pore ofhis exhausted body; food he could not have eaten, if he had had it. Hislabors thus far had given him a somewhat exaggerated estimate of hisphysical powers. The sensation of fainting was strange to him, but hisstaggering senses warned him that to faint where he was meant at oncehis death and burial. He could scarcely inflate his lungs with thepoisonous air of the pit; his muscles quivered with increasing weaknessand the warning spasmodic tremor which their unnatural strain induced;his head swam like that of a drowning person. 

By midnight he had struck and passed beyond a post which he felt must bein the yard. During the last few minutes he had directed his courseupward, and to relieve his cramped limbs he turned upon his back. Hisstrength was nearly gone; the feeble stream of air which his comrade wastrying, with all his might, to send to him from a distance offifty-three feet could no longer reach him through the deadly stench. His senses reeled; he had not breath or strength enough to move backwardthrough his narrow grave. In the agony of suffocation he dropped thedull chisel and beat his two fists against the roof of his grave withthe might of despair--when, blessed boon! the crust gave way and theloosened earth showered upon his dripping face purple with agony; hisfamished eye caught sight of a radiant star in the blue vault abovehim; a flood of light and a volume of cool, delicious air poured overhim. At that very instant the sentinel's cry rang out like aprophecy--"Half-past one, and all's well!"

[Illustration: LIBERTY!]

Recovering quickly under the inspiring air, he dragged his body out ofthe hole and made a careful survey of the yard in which he foundhimself. He was under a shed, with a board fence between him and theeast-side sentinels, and the gable end of Libby loomed grimly againstthe blue sky. He found the wagon-way under the south-side buildingclosed from the street by a gate fastened by a swinging bar, which, after a good many efforts, he succeeded in opening. This was the onlyexit to the street. As soon as the nearest sentinel's back was turned hestepped out and walked quickly to the east. At the first corner heturned north, carefully avoiding the sentinels in front of the"Pemberton Buildings" (another military prison northeast of Libby), andat the corner above this he went westward, then south to the edge of thecanal, and thus, by cautious moving, made a minute examination, of Libbyfrom all sides. 

Having satisfied his desires, he retraced his steps to the yard. Hehunted up an old bit of heavy plank crept back into the tunnel feetfirst, drew the plank over the opening to conceal it from the notice ofany possible visitors to the place, and crawled back to Rat Hell. McDonald was overjoyed, and poor Johnson almost wept with delight, asRose handed one of them his victorious old chisel, and gave the othersome trifle he had picked up in the outer world as a token that theUnderground Railroad to God's Country was open. 

Rose now climbed the rope-ladder, drew it up, rebuilt the fireplace wallas usual, and, finding Hamilton, took him over near one of the windowsand broke the news to him. The brave fellow was almost speechless withdelight, and quickly hunting up the rest of the party, told them thatColonel Rose wanted to see them down in the dining-room. 

As they had been waiting news from their absent leader with feverishanxiety for what had seemed to them all the longest day in their lives, they instantly responded to the call, and flocked around Rose a fewminutes later in the dark kitchen where he waited them. As yet they didnot know what news he brought, and they could scarcely wait for him tospeak out; and when he announced, "Boys, the tunnel is finished, " theycould hardly repress a cheer. They wrung his hand again and again, anddanced about with childish joy. 

It was now nearly three o'clock in the morning. Rose and Hamilton wereready to go out at once, and indeed were anxious to do so, since everyday of late had brought some new peril to their plans. None of the resthowever, were ready; and all urged the advantage of having a whole nightin which to escape through and beyond the Richmond fortifications, instead of the few hours of darkness which now preceded the day. To thisproposition Rose and Hamilton somewhat reluctantly assented. It wasagreed that each man of the party should have the privilege of takingone friend into his confidence, and that the second party of fifteenthus formed should be obligated not to follow the working party out ofthe tunnel until an hour had elapsed. Colonel H. C. Hobart, of the 21stWisconsin, was deputed to see that the program was observed. He was todraw up the rope-ladder, hide it, and rebuild the wall; and the nextnight was himself to lead out the second party, deputing sometrustworthy leader to follow with still another party on the thirdnight; and thus it was to continue until as many as possible shouldescape. 

On Tuesday evening, February 9, at seven o'clock, Colonel Rose assembledhis party in the kitchen, and, posting himself at the fireplace, whichhe opened, waited until the last man went down. He bade Colonel Hobartgood-by, went down the hole, and waited until he had heard his comradepull up the ladder, and finally heard him replace the bricks in thefireplace and depart. He now crossed Rat Hell to the entrance into thetunnel, and placed the party in the order in which they were to go out. He gave each a parting caution, thanked his brave comrades for theirfaithful labors, and, feelingly shaking their hands, bade them God-speedand farewell. 

He entered the tunnel first, with Hamilton next, and was promptlyfollowed by the whole party through the tunnel and into the yard. Heopened the gate leading toward the canal, and signaled the party thatall was clear. Stepping out on the sidewalk as soon as the nearestsentinel's back was turned, he walked briskly down the street to theeast, and a square below was joined by Hamilton. The others followed atintervals of a few minutes, and disappeared in various directions ingroups usually of three. 

The plan agreed upon between Colonels Rose and Hobart was frustrated byinformation of the party's departure leaking out; and before nineo'clock the knowledge of the existence of the tunnel and of thedeparture of the first party was flashed over the crowded prison, whichwas soon a convention of excited and whispering men. Colonel Hobart madea brave effort to restore order, but the frenzied crowd that nowfiercely struggled for precedence at the fireplace was beyond humancontrol. 

Some of them had opened the fireplace and were jumping down like sheepinto the cellar one after another. The colonel implored the maddened menat least to be quiet, and put the rope-ladder in position and escapedhimself. 

My companion, Sprague, was already asleep when I lay down that night;but my other companion, Duenkel, who had been hunting for me, was verymuch awake, and, seizing me by the collar, he whispered excitedly thefact that Colonel Rose had gone out at the head of a party through atunnel. For a brief moment the appalling suspicion, that my friend'sreason had been dethroned by illness and captivity swept over my mind;but a glance toward the window at the east end showed a quiet butapparently excited group of men from other rooms, and I now observedthat several of them were bundled up for a march. The hope of regainingliberty thrilled me like a current of electricity. Looking through thewindow, I could see the escaping men appear one by one on the sidewalkbelow, opposite the exit yard, and silently disappear, without hindranceor challenge by the prison sentinels. While I was eagerly surveying thisscene, I lost track of Duenkel, who had gone in search of furtherinformation, but ran against Lieutenant Harry Wilcox, of the 1st NewYork, whom I knew, and who appeared to have the "tip" regarding thetunnel. Wilcox and I agreed to unite our fortunes in the escape. Myshoes were nearly worn out, and my clothes were thin and ragged. I wasill prepared for a journey in midwinter through the enemy's country:happily I had my old overcoat, and this I put on. I had not a crumb offood saved up, as did those who were posted; but as I was ill at thetime, my appetite was feeble. 

Wilcox and I hurried to the kitchen, where we found several hundred menstruggling to be first at the opening in the fireplace. We took ourplaces behind them, and soon two hundred more closed us tightly in themass. The room was pitch-dark, and the sentinel could be seen throughthe door-cracks, within a dozen feet of us. The fight for precedence wassavage, though no one spoke; but now and then fainting men begged to bereleased. They begged in vain: certainly some of them must have beenpermanently injured. For my own part, when I neared the stove I wasnearly suffocated; but I took heart when I saw but three more menbetween me and the hole. At this moment a sound as of tramping feet washeard, and some idiot on the outer edge of the mob startled us with thecry, "The guards the guards!" A fearful panic ensued, and the entirecrowd bounded toward the stairway leading up to their sleeping-quarters. The stairway was unbanistered, and some of the men were forced off theedge and fell on those beneath. I was among the lightest in that crowd;and when it broke and expanded I was taken off my feet, dashed to thefloor senseless, my head and one of my hands bruised and cut, and myshoulder painfully injured by the boots of the men who rushed over me. When I gathered my swimming wits I was lying in a pool of water. Theroom seemed darker than before; and, to my grateful surprise, I wasalone. I was now convinced that it was a false alarm, and quicklyresolved to avail myself of the advantage of having the whole place tomyself. I entered the cavity feet first, but found it necessary toremove my overcoat and push it through the opening, and it fell in thedarkness below. 

I had now no comrade, having lost Wilcox in the stampede. Rose and hisparty, being the first out, were several hours on their journey; and Iburned to be away, knowing well that my salvation depended on my passagebeyond the city defenses before the pursuing guards were on our trail, when the inevitable discovery should come at roll-call. The fact that Iwas alone I regretted; but I had served with McClellan in the Peninsulacampaign of 1862, I knew the country well from my frequent inspection ofwar maps, and the friendly north star gave me my bearings. Therope-ladder had either become broken or disarranged, but it afforded mea short hold at the top; so I balanced myself, trusted to fortune, andfell into Rat Hell, which was a rayless pit of darkness, swarming withsquealing rats, several of which I must have killed in my fall. I felt atroop of them, run over my face and hands before I could regain my feet. Several times I put my hand on them, and once I flung one from myshoulder. Groping around, I found a stout stick or stave, put my back tothe wall, and beat about me blindly but with vigor. 

In spite of the hurried instructions given me by Wilcox, I had a longand horrible hunt over the cold surface of the cellar walls in myefforts to find the entrance to the tunnel; and in two minutes after Ibegan feeling my way with my hands I had no idea in what part of theplace was the point where I had fallen: my bearings were completelylost, and I must have made the circuit of Rat Hell several times. At myentrance the rats seemed to receive me with cheers sufficiently hearty, I thought; but my vain efforts to find egress seemed to kindle anewtheir enthusiasm. They had received large reinforcements, and my marcharound was now received with deafening squeaks. Finally, my exploringhands fell upon a pair of heels which vanished at my touch. Here at lastwas the narrow road to freedom! The heels proved to be the property ofLieutenant Charles H. Morgan, 21st Wisconsin, a Chickamauga prisoner. Just ahead of him in the tunnel was Lieutenant William L. Watson of thesame company and regiment. With my cut hand and bruised shoulder, thepassage through the cold, narrow grave was indescribably horrible, andwhen I reached the terminus in the yard I was sick and faint. Thepassage seemed to me to be a mile long; but the crisp, pure air and thefirst glimpse of freedom, the sweet sense of being out of doors, and therealization that I had taken the first step toward liberty and home, had a magical effect in my restoration. 

[Illustration: FIGHTING THE RATS. ]

I have related before, in a published reminiscence, [15] my experienceand that of my two companions above named in the journey toward theUnion lines, and our recapture; but the more important matter relatingto the plot itself has never been published. This is the leading motiveof this article, and therefore I will not intrude the details of mypersonal experience into the narrative. It is enough to say that it wasa chapter of hairbreadth escapes, hunger, cold, suffering, and, alas!failure. We were run down and captured in a swamp several miles north ofCharlottesville, and when we were taken our captors pointed out to usthe smoke over a Federal outpost. We were brought back to Libby, and putin one of the dark, narrow dungeons. I was afterward confined in Macon, Georgia; Charleston and Columbia, South Carolina; and in Charlotte, North Carolina. After a captivity of just a year and eight months, during which I had made five escapes and was each time retaken, I was atlast released on March 1, 1865, at Wilmington, North Carolina. 

[Footnote 15: "Philadelphia Times, " October 28, 1882. ]

Great was the panic in Libby when the next morning's roll revealed tothe astounded Confederates that 109 of their captives were missing; andas the fireplace had been rebuilt by some one and the opening of thehole in the yard had been covered by the last man who went out, no humantrace guided the keepers toward a solution of the mystery. The Richmondpapers having announced the "miraculous" escape of 109 Yankee officersfrom Libby, curious crowds flocked thither for several days, until someone, happening to remove the plank in the yard, revealed the tunnel. Aterrified negro was driven into the hole at the point of the bayonet, and thus made a trip to Rat Hell that nearly turned him white. 

Several circumstances at this time combined to make this escapepeculiarly exasperating to the Confederates. In obedience to repeatedappeals from the Richmond newspapers, iron bars had but recently beenfixed in all the prison windows for better security, and the guard hadbeen considerably reinforced. The columns of these same journals hadjust been aglow with accounts of the daring and successful escape of theConfederate General John Morgan and his companions from the Columbus(Ohio) jail. Morgan had arrived in Richmond on the 8th of January, exactly a month prior to the completion of the tunnel, and was still thelion of the Confederate capital. 

[Illustration: SECTION OF INTERIOR OF LIBBY PRISON AND TUNNEL. 

1. Streight's room; 2. Milroy's room; 3. Commandant's office; 4. Chickamauga room (upper); 5. Chickamauga room (lower); 6. Dining-room;7. Carpenter's shop (middle cellar); 8. Gettysburg room (upper); 9. Gettysburg room (lower); 10. Hospital room; 11. East or "Rat Hell"cellar; 12. South side Canal street, ten feet lower than Carey street;13. North side Carey street, ground sloping toward Canal; 14. Open lot;15. Tunnel; 16. Fence; 17. Shed; 18. Kerr's warehouse; 19. Office JamesRiver Towing Co. ; 20. Gate; 21. Prisoners escaping; 22. West cellar. ]

At daylight a plank was seen suspended on the outside of the east wall;this was fastened by a blanket-rope to one of the window-bars, and was, of course, a trick to mislead the Confederates. General John H. Winder, then in charge of all the prisoners in the Confederacy, with hisheadquarters in Richmond, was furious when the news reached him. After acareful external examination of the building, and a talk, not of thepolitest kind, with Major Turner, he reached the conclusion that such anescape had but one explanation--the guards had been bribed. Accordinglythe sentinels on duty were marched off under arrest to Castle Thunder, where they were locked up and searched for "greenbacks. " The thousandand more prisoners still in Libby were compensated, in a measure, fortheir failure to escape by the panic they saw among the "Rebs. "Messengers and despatches were soon flying in all directions, and allthe horse, foot, and dragoons of Richmond were in pursuit of thefugitives before noon. Only one man of the whole escaping party wasretaken inside of the city limits. [16] Of the 109 who got out thatnight, 59 reached the Union lines, 48 were recaptured, and 2 weredrowned. 

[Footnote 16: Captain Gates, of the 33d Ohio. ]

Colonel Streight and several other officers who had been chosen by thediggers of the tunnel to follow them out, in accordance with theagreement already referred to, lay concealed for a week in a vacanthouse, where they were fed by loyal friends, and escaped to the Federallines when the first excitement had abated. 

After leaving Libby, Rose and Hamilton turned northward and cautiouslywalked on a few squares, when suddenly they encountered someConfederates who were guarding a military hospital. Hamilton retreatedquickly and ran off to the east; but Rose, who was a little in advance, walked boldly by on the opposite walk, and was not challenged; and thusthe two friends separated. 

Hamilton, after several days of wandering and fearful exposure, camejoyfully upon a Union picket squad, received the care he painfullyneeded, and was soon on his happy journey home. 

[Illustration: GROUND-PLAN OF LIBBY PRISON AND SURROUNDINGS. 

A. Break in fireplace on floor above; B. End of tunnel; CCC. Course ofparty escaping; D. Shed; E. Cook-room (abandoned Oct. , '63); F. Lumber-room; G. Office of James River Towing Company; HH. Gates; III. Doors; J. Cells for condemned prisoners; K. First tunnel (abandoned); L. Fence. ]

Rose passed out of the city of Richmond to the York River Railroad, andfollowed its track to the Chickahominy bridge. Finding this guarded, heturned to the right, and as the day was breaking he came upon a camp ofConfederate cavalry. His blue uniform made it exceedingly dangerous totravel in daylight in this region; and seeing a large sycamore log thatwas hollow, he crawled into it. The February air was keen and biting, but he kept his cramped position until late in the afternoon; and allday he could hear the loud talk in the camp and the neighing of thehorses. Toward night he came cautiously forth, and finding theChickahominy fordable within a few hundred yards, he succeeded in wadingacross. The uneven bed of the river, however, led him into several deepholes, and before he reached the shore his scanty raiment was thoroughlysoaked. He trudged on through the woods as fast as his stiffened limbswould bear him, borne up by the hope of early deliverance, and made abrave effort to shake off the horrible ague. He had not gone far, however, when he found himself again close to some Confederate cavalry, and was compelled once more to seek a hiding-place. The day seemed ofinterminable length, and he tried vainly in sleep to escape from hungerand cold. His teeth chattered in his head, and when he rose at dark tocontinue his journey his tattered clothes were frozen stiff. In thisplight he pushed on resolutely, and was obliged to wade to his waist forhundreds of yards through one of those deep and treacherous morassesthat proved such deadly fever-pools for McClellan's army in the campaignof 1862. Finally he reached the high ground, and as the severe exertionhad set his blood again in motion and loosened his limbs, he was makingbetter progress, when suddenly he found himself near a Confederatepicket. This picket he easily avoided, and, keeping well in the shadowof the forest and shunning the roads, he pressed forward with increasinghopes of success. He had secured a box of matches before leaving Libby;and as the cold night came on and he felt that he was really in dangerof freezing to death, he penetrated into the center of the cedar groveand built a fire in a small and secluded hollow. He felt that this washazardous, but the necessity was desperate, since with his stiffenedlimbs he could no longer move along fast enough to keep the warmth oflife in his body. To add to his trouble, his foot, which had been brokenin Tennessee previous to his capture, was now giving him great pain, andthreatened to cripple him wholly; indeed, it would stiffen and disablethe best of limbs to compass the journey he had made in darkness overstrange, uneven, and hard-frozen ground, and through rivers, creeks, andbogs, and this without food or warmth. 

The fire was so welcome that he slept soundly--so soundly that waking inthe early morning he found his boot-legs and half his uniform burned up, the ice on the rest of it probably having prevented its totaldestruction. 

Resuming his journey much refreshed, he reached Crump's Cross-roads, where he successfully avoided another picket. He traveled all day, taking occasional short rests, and before dark had reached New KentCourt-house. Here again he saw some pickets, but by cautious flankingmanaged to pass them; but in crossing an open space a little farther onhe was seen by a cavalryman, who at once put spurs to his horse and rodeup to Rose, and, saluting him, inquired if he belonged to the New KentCavalry. Rose had on a gray cap, and seeing that he had a stupid sort offellow to deal with, instantly answered, "Yes, " whereupon the trooperturned his horse and rode back. A very few moments were enough to showRose that the cavalryman's report had failed to satisfy his comrades, whom he could see making movements for his capture. He plunged through alaurel thicket, and had no sooner emerged than he saw the Confederatesdeploying around it in confidence that their game was bagged. He dashedon as fast as his injured foot would let him, and entered a tract ofheavily timbered land that rose to the east of this thicket. At theborder of the grove he found another picket post, and barely escaped thenotice of several of the men. The only chance of escape lay through awide, clear field before him, and even this was in full view from thegrove that bordered it, and this he knew would soon swarm with hispursuers. 

Across the center of this open field, which was fully half a mile wide, a ditch ran, which, although but a shallow gully, afforded a partialconcealment. Rose, who could now hear the voices of the Confederatesnearer and nearer, dove into the ditch as the only chance, and droppingon his hands and knees crept swiftly forward to the eastward. In thiscramped position his progress was extremely painful, and his hands weretorn by the briers and stones; but forward he dashed, fully expecting ashower of bullets every minute. At last he reached the other end of thehalf-mile ditch, breathless and half dead, but without having onceraised his head above the gully. 

Emerging from this field, he found himself in the Williamsburg road, andbordering the opposite side was an extensive tract thickly covered withpines. As he crossed and entered this tract he looked back and could seehis enemies, whose movements showed that they were greatly puzzled andoff the scent. When at a safe distance he sought a hiding-place and tooka needed rest of several hours. 

He then resumed his journey, and followed the direction of theWilliamsburg road, which he found picketed at various points, so that itwas necessary to avoid open spaces. Several times during the day he sawsquads of Confederate cavalry passing along the road so near that hecould hear their talk. Near nightfall he reached Diasen Bridge, where hesuccessfully passed another picket. He kept on until nearly midnight, when he lay down by a great tree and, cold as he was, slept soundlyuntil daylight. He now made a careful reconnoissance, and found near theroad the ruins of an old building which, he afterward learned, wascalled "Burnt Ordinary. "

He now found himself almost unable to walk with his injured foot, but, nerved by the yet bright hope of liberty, he once more went his wearyway in the direction of Williamsburg. Finally he came to a place wherethere were some smoking fagots and a number of tracks, indicating it tohave been a picket post of the previous night. He was now nearingWilliamsburg, which, he was inclined to believe from such meagerinformation as had reached Libby before his departure, was in possessionof the Union forces. Still, he knew that this was territory that wasfrequently changing hands, and was therefore likely to be under a closewatch. From this on he avoided the roads wholly, and kept under cover asmuch as it was possible; and if compelled to cross an open field at all, he did so in a stooping position. He was now moving in a southeasterlydirection, and coming again to the margin of a wide opening, he saw, tohis unutterable joy, a body of Union troops advancing along the roadtoward him. 

Thoroughly worn out, Rose, believing that his deliverers were at hand, sat down to await their approach. His pleasant reverie was disturbed bya sound behind and near him, and turning quickly he was startled to seethree soldiers in the road along which the troops first seen wereadvancing. The fact that these men had not been noticed before gave Rosesome uneasiness for a moment; but as they wore blue uniforms, andmoreover seemed to take no note of the approaching Federal troops, allthings seemed to indicate that they were simply an advanced detail ofthe same body. This seemed to be further confirmed by the fact that thetrio were now moving down the road, apparently with the intent ofjoining the larger body; and as the ground to the east rose to a crest, both of the bodies were a minute later shut off from Rose's view. 

In the full confidence that all was right he rose to his feet and walkedtoward the crest to get a better view of everything and greet hiscomrades of the loyal blue. A walk of a hundred yards brought him againin sight of the three men, who now noticed and challenged him. 

In spite of appearances a vague suspicion forced itself upon Rose, who, however, obeyed the summons and continued to approach the party, who nowwatched him with fixed attention. As he came closer to the group, thebrave but unfortunate soldier saw that he was lost. 

For the first time the three seemed to be made aware of the approach ofthe Federals, and to show consequent alarm and haste. The unhappy Rosesaw before the men spoke that their blue uniform was a disguise, and thediscovery brought a savage expression to his lips. He hoped and tried toconvince his captors that he was a Confederate, but all in vain; theyretained him as their prisoner, and now told him that they wereConfederates. Rose, in the first bitter moment of his misfortune, thought seriously of breaking away to his friends so temptingly near;but his poor broken foot and the slender chance of escaping threebullets at a few yards made this suicide, and he decided to wait for abetter chance, and this came sooner than he expected. 

One of the men appeared to be an officer, who detailed one of hiscompanions to conduct Rose to the rear in the direction of Richmond. Theprisoner went quietly with his guard, the other two men tarried a littleto watch the advancing Federals, and now Rose began to limp like a manwho was unable to go farther. Presently the ridge shut them off from theview of the others. Rose, who had slyly been staggering closer andcloser to the guard, suddenly sprang upon the man, and before he hadtime to wink had twisted his gun from his grasp, discharged it into theair, flung it down, and ran off as fast as his poor foot would let himtoward the east and so as to avoid the rest of the Confederates. Thedisarmed Confederate made no attempt at pursuit, nor indeed did theother two, who were now seen retreating at a run across the adjacentfields. 

Rose's heart bounded with new hope, for he felt that he would be withhis advancing comrades in a few minutes at most. All at once a squad ofConfederates, hitherto unseen, rose up in his very path, and beat himdown with the butts of their muskets. All hands now rushed around andsecured him, and one of the men called out excitedly, "Hurry up, boys;the Yankees are right here!" They rushed their prisoner into the woodedravine, and here they were joined by the man whom Rose had justdisarmed. He was in a savage mood, and declared it to be his particulardesire to fill Rose full of Confederate lead. The officer in chargerebuked the man, however, and compelled him to cool down, and he wentalong with an injured air that excited the merriment of his comrades. 

The party continued its retreat to Barhamsville, thence to the WhiteHouse on the Pamunkey River, and finally to Richmond, where Rose wasagain restored to Libby, and, like the writer, was confined for a numberof days in a narrow and loathsome cell. On the 30th of April hisexchange was effected for a Confederate colonel, and on the 6th of July, 1864, he rejoined his regiment, in which he served with conspicuousgallantry to the close of the war. 

As already stated, Hamilton reached the Union lines safely after manyvicissitudes, and did brave service in the closing scenes of therebellion. He is now a resident of Reedyville, Kentucky. Johnson, whoseenforced confinement in Rat Hell gave him a unique fame in Libby, alsomade good his escape, and now lives at North Pleasantville, Kentucky. 

Of the fifteen men who dug the successful tunnel, four are dead, viz. :Fitzsimmons, Gallagher, Garbett, and McDonald. Captain W. S. B. Randalllives at Hillsboro, Highland County, Ohio; Colonel Terrance Clark atParis, Edgar County, Illinois; Captain Eli Foster at Chicago; ColonelN. S. McKean at Collinsville, Madison County, Illinois; and Captain J. C. Fislar at Lewiston, I. T. The addresses of Captains Lucas, Simpson, andMitchell are unknown at this writing. 

Colonel Rose has served faithfully almost since the end of the war withthe 16th United States Infantry, in which he holds a captain'scommission. No one meeting him now would hear from his reticent lips, orread in his placid face, the thrilling story that links his name in soremarkable a manner with the history of the famous Bastile of theConfederacy. 

A HARD ROAD TO TRAVEL OUT OF DIXIE

BY W. H. SHELTON

It was past noon of the first day of the bloody contest in theWilderness. The guns of the Fifth Corps, led by Battery D of the 1st NewYork Artillery, were halted along the Orange turnpike, by which we hadmade the fruitless campaign to Mine Run. The continuous roar of musketryin front and to the left indicated that the infantry was desperatelyengaged, while the great guns filling every wooded road leading up tothe battle-field were silent. Our drivers were lounging about thehorses, while the cannoneers lay on the green grass by the roadside orwalked by the pieces. Down the line came an order for the centersection, under my command, to advance and pass the right section, whichlay in front of us. General Warren, surrounded by his staff, sat on agray horse at the right of the road where the woods bordered an openfield dipping between two wooded ridges. The position we were leavingwas admirable, while the one to which we were ordered, on the oppositeside of the narrow field, was wholly impracticable. The captain hadreceived his orders in person from General Warren, and joined my commandas we passed. 

We dashed down the road at a trot, the cannoneers running beside theirpieces. At the center of the field we crossed by a wooden bridge over adeep, dry ditch, and came rapidly into position at the side of theturnpike and facing the thicket. As the cannoneers were not all up, thecaptain and I dismounted and lent a hand in swinging round the heavytrails. The air was full of Minié balls, some whistling by like madhornets, and others, partly spent, humming like big nails. One of thelatter struck my knee with force enough to wound the bone withoutpenetrating the grained-leather boot-leg. In front of us the ground roseinto the timber where our infantry was engaged. It was madness tocontinue firing here, for my shot must first plow through our own linesbefore reaching the enemy. So after one discharge the captain orderedthe limbers to the rear, and the section started back at a gallop. Myhorse was cut on the flanks, and his plunging, with my disabled knee, delayed me in mounting, and prevented my seeing why the carriages keptto the grass instead of getting upon the roadway. When I overtook theguns they had come to a forced halt at the dry ditch, now full ofskulkers, an angle of which cut the way to the bridge. Brief as theinterval had been, not a man of my command was in sight. The lead horseof the gun team at my side had been shot and was reeling in the harness. Slipping to the ground, I untoggled one trace at the collar to releasehim, and had placed my hand on the other when I heard the demand"Surrender!" and turning found in my face two big pistols in the handsof an Alabama colonel. "Give me that sword, " said he. I pressed theclasp and let it fall to the ground, where it remained. The colonel hadtaken me by the right arm, and as we turned toward the road I took inthe whole situation at a glance. My chestnut horse and the captain'sbald-faced brown were dashing frantically against the long, swaying gunteams. By the bridge stood a company of the 61st Alabama Infantry inbutternut suits and slouch-hats, shooting straggling and wounded Zouavesfrom a Pennsylvania brigade as they appeared in groups of two or threeon the road in front. The colonel as he handed me over to his menordered his troops to take what prisoners they could and to ceasefiring. The guns which we were forced to abandon were a bone ofcontention until they were secured by the enemy on the third day, atwhich time but one of the twenty-four team horses was living. 

With a few other prisoners I was led by a short detour through thewoods. In ten minutes we had turned the flank of both armies and reachedthe same turnpike in the rear of our enemy. A line of ambulances wasmoving back on the road, all filled with wounded, and when we saw avacant seat beside a driver I was hoisted up to the place. The boydriver was in a high state of excitement. He said that two shells hadcome flying down this same road, and showed where the trace of the nearmule had been cut by a piece of shell, for which I was directlyresponsible. 

The field hospital of General Jubal Early's corps was near Locust GroveTavern, where the wounded Yankees were in charge of Surgeon Donnelly ofthe Pennsylvania Reserves. No guard was established, as no one wassupposed to be in condition to run away. At the end of a week, however, my leg had greatly improved, although I was still unable to use it. Inour party was another lieutenant, an aide on the staff of General JamesC. Rice, whose horse had been shot under him while riding at full speedwith despatches. Lieutenant Hadley had returned to consciousness to findhimself a prisoner in hospital, somewhat bruised, and robbed of hisvaluables, but not otherwise disabled. We two concluded to start forWashington by way of Kelly's Ford. I traded my penknife for a haversackof corn-bread with one of the Confederate nurses, and a wounded officer, Colonel Miller of a New York regiment, gave us a pocket compass. Iprovided myself with a stout pole, which I used with both hands in lieuof my left foot. At 9 P. M. We set out, passing during the night thenarrow field and the dry ditch where I had left my guns. Only a pile ofdead horses marked the spot. 

On a grassy bank we captured a firefly and shut him in between the glassand the face of our pocket compass. With such a guide we shaped ourcourse for the Rapidan. After traveling nearly all night we lay downexhausted upon a bluff within sound of the river, and slept untilsunrise. Hastening to our feet again, we hurried down to the ford. Justbefore reaching the river we heard shouts behind us, and saw a manbeckoning and running after us. Believing the man an enemy, we dashedinto the shallow water, and after crossing safely hobbled away up theother side as fast as a man with one leg and a pole could travel. Iafterward met this man, himself a prisoner, at Macon, Georgia. He wasthe officer of our pickets, and would have conducted us into our linesif we had permitted him to come up with us. As it was, we found a snughiding-place in a thicket of swamp growth, where we lay in concealmentall day. After struggling on a few miles in a chilling rain, my legbecame so painful that it was impossible to go farther. A house was nearby and we threw ourselves on the mercy of the family. Good Mrs. Brandonhad harbored the pickets of both armies again and again, and hadluxuriated in real coffee and tea and priceless salt at the hands of ourofficers. She bore the Yankees only good-will, and after dressing mywound we sat down to breakfast with herself and daughters. 

After breakfast we were conducted to the second half-story, which wasone unfinished room. There was a bed in one corner, where we were tosleep. Beyond the stairs was a pile of yellow ears of corn, and from therafters and sills hung a variety of dried herbs and medicinal roots. Here our meals were served, and the girls brought us books and readaloud to pass away the long days. I was confined to the bed, and mycompanion never ventured below stairs except on one dark night, when atmy earnest entreaty he set out for Kelly's Ford, but soon returnedunable to make his way in the darkness. One day we heard the door openat the foot of the stairs, a tread of heavy boots on the steps, and aclank, clank that sounded very much like a saber. Out of the floor rosea gray slouch-hat with the yellow cord and tassel of a cavalryman, andin another moment there stood on the landing one of the most astonishedtroopers that ever was seen. "Coot" Brandon was one of "Jeb" Stuart'srangers, and came every day for corn for his horse. Heretofore the cornhad been brought down for him, and he was as ignorant of our presenceas we were of his existence. On this day no pretext could keep him fromcoming up to help himself. His mother worked on his sympathies, and hedeparted promising her that he would leave us undisturbed. But the verynext morning he turned up again, this time accompanied by another rangerof sterner mold. A parole was exacted from my able-bodied companion, andwe were left for another twenty-four hours, when I was considered incondition to be moved. Mrs. Brandon gave us each a new blue overcoatfrom a plentiful store of Uncle Sam's clothing she had on hand, and Iopened my heart and gave her my last twenty-dollar greenback--and wishedI had it back again every day for the next ten months. 

I was mounted on a horse, and with Lieutenant Hadley on foot we weremarched under guard all day until we arrived at a field hospitalestablished in the rear of Longstreet's corps, my companion being senton to some prison for officers. Thence I was forwarded with a train-loadof wounded to Lynchburg, on which General Hunter was then marching, andwe had good reason to hope for a speedy deliverance. On more than oneday we heard his guns to the north, where there was no force but a fewcitizens with bird-guns to oppose the entrance of his command. Theslaves were employed on a line of breastworks which there was noadequate force to hold. It was our opinion that one well-disciplinedregiment could have captured and held the town. It was several daysbefore a portion of General Breckinridge's command arrived for thedefense of Lynchburg. 

I had clung to my clean bed in the hospital just as long as my rapidlyhealing wound would permit, but was soon transferred to a prison whereat night the sleepers--Yankees, Confederate deserters, and negroes--wereso crowded upon the floor that some lay under the feet of the guards inthe doorways. The atmosphere was dreadful. I fell ill, and for threedays lay with my head in the fireplace, more dead than alive. 

A few days thereafter about three hundred prisoners were crowded intocattle-cars bound for Andersonville. We must have been a week on thisrailroad journey when an Irish lieutenant of a Rochester regiment and I, who had been allowed to ride in the baggage-car, were taken from thetrain at Macon, Georgia, where about sixteen hundred Union officers wereconfined at the fair-grounds. General Alexander Shaler, of Sedgwick'scorps, also captured at the Wilderness, was the ranking officer, and tohim was accorded a sort of interior command of the camp. Before passingthrough the gate we expected to see a crowd bearing some outwardsemblance of respectability. Instead, we were instantly surrounded byseveral hundred ragged, barefooted, frowzy-headed men shouting "Freshfish!" at the top of their voices and eagerly asking for news. With rareexceptions all were shabbily dressed. There was, however, a little knotof naval officers who had been captured in the windings of the narrowRappahannock by a force of cavalry, and who were the aristocrats of thecamp. They were housed in a substantial fair-building in the center ofthe grounds, and by some special terms of surrender must have broughttheir complete wardrobes along. On hot days they appeared in spotlesswhite duck, which they were permitted to send outside to be laundered. Their mess was abundantly supplied with the fruits and vegetables of theseason. The ripe red tomatoes they were daily seen to peel were the envyof the camp. I well remember that to me, at this time, a favoriteoccupation was to lie on my back with closed eyes and imagine the dinnerI would order if I were in a first-class hotel. It was no unusual thingto see a dignified colonel washing his lower clothes in a pail, cladonly in his uniform dresscoat. Ladies sometimes appeared on theguard-walk outside the top of the stockade, on which occasions thecleanest and best-dressed men turned out to see and be seen. I was quiteproud to appear in a clean gray shirt, spotless white drawers, andmoccasins made of blue overcoat cloth. 

On the Fourth of July, after the regular morning count, we repaired tothe big central building and held an informal celebration. One officerhad brought into captivity, concealed on his person, a little silknational flag, which was carried up into the cross-beams of thebuilding, and the sight of it created the wildest enthusiasm. We cheeredthe flag and applauded the patriotic speeches until a detachment of theguard succeeded in putting a stop to our proceedings. They tried tocapture the flag, but in this they were not successful. We were informedthat cannon were planted commanding the camp, and would be opened on usif we renewed our demonstrations. 

Soon after this episode the fall of Atlanta and the subsequent movementsof General Sherman led to the breaking up of the camp at Macon, and tothe transfer of half of us to a camp at Charleston, and half toSavannah. Late in September, by another transfer, we found ourselvestogether again at Columbia. We had no form of shelter, and there was nostockade around the camp, only a guard and a dead-line. During two hoursof each morning an extra line of guards was stationed around anadjoining piece of pine woods, into which we were allowed to go and cutwood and timber to construct for ourselves huts for the approachingwinter. Our ration at this time consisted of raw corn-meal and sorghummolasses, without salt or any provision of utensils for cooking. Thecamp took its name from our principal article of diet, and was by commonconsent known as "Camp Sorghum. " A stream of clear water was accessibleduring the day by an extension of the guards, but at night the lineswere so contracted as to leave the path leading to the water outside theguard. Lieutenant S. H. M. Byers, who had already written the well-knownlyric "Sherman's March to the Sea, " was sharing my tent, which consistedof a ragged blanket. We had been in the new camp but little more than aweek when we determined to make an attempt at escape. Preparatory tostarting we concealed two tin cups and two blankets in the pine woods towhich we had access during the chopping hours, and here was to be ourrendezvous in case we were separated in getting out. Covering myshoulders with an old gray blanket and providing myself with a stick, about the size of a gun, from the woodpile, I tried to smuggle myselfinto the relief guard when the line was contracted at six o'clock. Unfortunately an unexpected halt was called, and the soldier in frontturned and discovered me. I was now more than ever determined on gettingaway. After a hurried conference with Lieutenant Byers, at which Ipromised to wait at our rendezvous in the woods until I heard theposting of the ten-o'clock relief, I proceeded alone up the side of thecamp to a point where a group of low cedars grew close to the dead-line. Concealing myself in their dark shadow, I could observe at my leisurethe movements of the sentinels. A full moon was just rising above thehorizon to my left, and in the soft, misty light the guards were plainlyvisible for a long distance either way. An open field from which thesmall growth had been recently cut away lay beyond, and between the campand the guard-line ran a broad road of soft sand--noiseless to cross, but so white in the moonlight that a leaf blown across it by the windcould scarcely escape a vigilant eye. The guards were bundled in theirovercoats, and I soon observed that the two who met opposite to my placeof concealment turned and walked their short beats without looking back. Waiting until they separated again, and regardless of the fact that Imight with equal likelihood be seen by a dozen sentinels in eitherdirection, I ran quickly across the soft sand road several yards intothe open field, and threw myself down upon the uneven ground. First Idragged my body on my elbows for a few yards, then I crept on my knees, and so gradually gained in distance until I could rise to a standingposition and get safely to the shelter of the trees. With somedifficulty I found the cups and blankets we had concealed, and lay downto await the arrival of my companion. Soon I heard several shots whichI understood too well; and, as I afterward learned, two officers wereshot dead for attempting the feat I had accomplished, and perhaps inemulation of my success. A third young officer, whom I knew, was alsokilled in camp by one of the shots fired at the others. 

At ten o'clock I set out alone and made my way across the fields to thebank of the Saluda, where a covered bridge crossed to Columbia. Hidingwhen it was light, wandering through fields and swamps by night, andventuring at last to seek food of negroes, I proceeded for thirteen daystoward the sea. 

In general I had followed the Columbia turnpike; at a quaint littlechapel on the shore of Goose Creek, but a few miles out of Charleston, Iturned to the north and bent my course for the coast above the city. About this time I learned that I should find no boats along the shorebetween Charleston and the mouth of the Santee, everything able to floathaving been destroyed to prevent the escape of the negroes and thedesertion of the soldiers. I was ferried over the Broad River by acrusty old darky who came paddling across in response to my cries of"O-v-e-r, " and who seemed so put out because I had no fare for him thatI gave him my case-knife. The next evening I had the only taste of meatof this thirteen days' journey, which I got from an old negro whom Ifound alone in his cabin eating possum and rice. 

I had never seen the open sea-coast beaten by the surf, and after beingsatisfied that I had no hope of escape in that direction it was in partmy curiosity that led me on, and partly a vague idea that I would getConfederate transportation back to Columbia and take a fresh startwestward bound. The tide was out, and in a little cove I found anabundance of oysters bedded in the mud, some of which I cracked withstones and ate. After satisfying my hunger, and finding the sea ratherunexpectedly tame inside the line of islands which marked the easternhorizon, I bent my steps toward a fire, where I found a detachment ofConfederate coastguards, to whom I offered myself as a guest as coollyas if my whole toilsome journey had been prosecuted to that end. 

In the morning I was marched a few miles to Mount Pleasant, near FortMoultrie, and taken thence in a sail-boat across the harbor toCharleston. At night I found myself again in the city jail, where with alarge party of officers I had spent most of the month of August. Mycell-mate was Lieutenant H. G. Dorr of the 4th Massachusetts Cavalry, with whom I journeyed by rail back to Columbia, arriving at "CampSorghum" about the 1st of November. 

I rejoined the mess of Lieutenant Byers, and introduced to the othersLieutenant Dorr, whose cool assurance was a prize that procured us allthe blessings possible. He could borrow frying-pans from the guards, money from his brother Masons at headquarters, and I believe if we hadasked him to secure us a gun he would have charmed it out of the hand ofa sentinel on duty. 

[Illustration: LIEUTENANTS E. E. SILL AND A. T. LAMSON. ]

Lieutenant Edward E. Sill, of General Daniel Butterfield's staff, whom Ihad met at Macon, during my absence had come to "Sorghum" from afruitless trip to Macon for exchange, and I had promised to join himin an attempt to escape when he could secure a pair of shoes. OnNovember 29 our mess had felled a big pine-tree and had rolled into campa short section of the trunk, which a Tennessee officer was to splitinto shingles to complete our hut, a pretty good cabin with an earthenfireplace. While we were resting from our exertion, Sill appeared withhis friend Lieutenant A. T. Lamson of the 104th New York Infantry, andreminded me of my promise. The prisoners always respected their paroleon wood-chopping expeditions, and went out and came in at the mainentrance. The guards were a particularly verdant body of back-countrymilitia, and the confusion of the parole system enabled us to practiseruses. In our present difficulty we resorted to a new expedient andforged a parole. The next day all three of us were quietly walking downthe guard-line on the outside. At the creek, where all the camp came forwater, we found Dorr and Byers and West, and calling to one of them inthe presence of the guard, asked for blankets to bring in spruce boughsfor beds. When the blankets came they contained certain haversacks, cups, and little indispensable articles for the road. Falling back intothe woods, we secured a safe hiding-place until after dark. Just beyondthe village of Lexington we successfully evaded the first picket, beingwarned of its presence by the smoldering embers in the road. A fewnights after this, having exposed ourselves and anticipating pursuit, wepushed on until we came to a stream crossing the road. Up this we wadedfor some distance, and secured a hiding-place on a neighboring hill. Inthe morning we looked out upon mounted men and dogs, at the very pointwhere we had entered the stream, searching for our lost trail. We spenttwo days during a severe storm of rain and sleet in a farm-barn wherethe slaves were so drunk on applejack that they had forgotten us andleft us with nothing to eat but raw turnips. One night, in our searchfor provisions, we met a party of negroes burning charcoal, who took usto their camp and sent out for a supply of food. While waiting avenerable "uncle" proposed to hold a prayer-meeting. So under the talltrees and by the light of the smoldering coal-pits the old man prayedlong and fervently to the "bressed Lord and Massa Lincoln, " and heartyamens echoed through the woods. Besides a few small potatoes, one driedgoat ham was all our zealous friends could procure. The next day, havingmade our camp in the secure depths of a dry swamp, we lighted the onlyfire we allowed ourselves between Columbia and the mountains. The ham, which was almost as light as cork, was riddled with worm-holes, and ashard as a petrified sponge. 

We avoided the towns, and after an endless variety of adventuresapproached the mountains, cold, hungry, ragged, and foot-sore. On thenight of December 13 we were grouped about a guide-post, at a fork inthe road, earnestly contending as to which way we should proceed. Lieutenant Sill was for the right, I was for the left, and no amount ofpersuasion could induce Lieutenant Lamson to decide the controversy. Iyielded, and we turned to the right. After walking a mile in a state ofgeneral uncertainty, we came to a low white farm-house standing verynear the road. It was now close upon midnight, and the windows were alldark; but from a house of logs, partly behind the other, gleamed abright light. Judging this to be servants' quarters, two of us remainedback while Lieutenant Sill made a cautious approach. In due time a negroappeared, advancing stealthily, and, beckoning to my companion and me, conducted us in the shadow of a hedge to a side window, through which weclambered into the cabin. We were made very comfortable in the glow of abright woodfire. Sweet potatoes were already roasting in the ashes, anda tin pot of barley coffee was steaming on the coals. Rain and sleet hadbegun to fall, and it was decided that after having been warmed andrefreshed we should be concealed in the barn until the following night. Accordingly we were conducted thither and put to bed upon a pile ofcorn-shucks high up under the roof. Secure as this retreat seemed, itwas deemed advisable in the morning to burrow several feet down in themow, so that the children, if by any chance they should climb so high, might romp unsuspecting over our heads. We could still look out throughthe cracks in the siding and get sufficient light whereby to study a mapof the Southern States, which had been brought us with our breakfast. Aluxurious repast was in preparation, to be eaten at the quarters beforestarting; but a frolic being in progress, and a certain negro present ofquestionable fidelity, the banquet was transferred to the barn. Thegreat barn doors were set open, and the cloth was spread on the floor bythe light of the moon. Certainly we had partaken of no such substantialfare within the Confederacy. The central dish was a pork-pie, flanked bysavory little patties of sausage. There were sweet potatoes, fleecybiscuits, a jug of sorghum, and a pitcher of sweet milk. Most deliciousof all was a variety of corn-bread having tiny bits of fresh pork bakedin it, like plums in a pudding. [17]

[Footnote 17: Major Sill contributes the following evidence of theimpression our trio made upon one, at least, of the piccaninnies wholooked on in the moonlight. The picture of Lieutenants Sill and Lamsonwhich appears on page 255 was enlarged from a small photograph taken ontheir arrival at Chattanooga, before divesting themselves of the ragsworn throughout the long journey. Years afterward Major Sill gave one ofthese pictures to Wallace Bruce of Florida, at one time United Statesconsul at Glasgow. In the winter of 1888-89 Mr. Bruce, at his Floridahome, was showing the photograph to his family when it caught the eye ofa colored servant, who exclaimed: "O Massa Bruce, I know those gen'men. My father and mother hid 'em in Massa's barn at Pickensville and fed'em; there was three of 'em; I saw 'em. " This servant was a child barelyten years old in 1864, and could have seen us only through the barn doorwhile we were eating our supper in the uncertain moonlight. Yet morethan twenty years thereafter he greeted the photograph of the raggedYankee officers with a flash of recognition. ]

Filling our haversacks with the fragments, we took grateful leave of oursable benefactors and resumed our journey, retracing our steps to thepoint of disagreement of the evening before. Long experience in nightmarching had taught us extreme caution. We had advanced along the newroad but a short way when we were startled by the barking of ahouse-dog. Apprehending that something was moving in front of us, weinstantly withdrew into the woods. We had scarcely concealed ourselveswhen two cavalrymen passed along, driving before them a prisoner. Awarethat it was high time to betake ourselves to the cross-roads anddescribe a wide circle around the military station at Pickensville, wefirst sought information. A ray of light was visible from a hut in thewoods, and believing from its humble appearance that it shelteredfriends, my companions lay down in concealment while I advanced toreconnoiter. I gained the side of the house, and, looking through acrack in the boards, saw, to my surprise, a soldier lying on his backbefore the fire playing with a dog. I stole back with redoubled care. Thoroughly alarmed by the dangers we had already encountered, we decidedto abandon the roads. Near midnight of December 16 we passed through awooden gate on a level road leading into the forest. Believing that thelateness of the hour would secure us from further dangers, we resolvedto press on with all speed, when two figures with lighted torches camesuddenly into view. Knowing that we were yet unseen, we turned into thewoods and concealed ourselves behind separate trees at no great distancefrom the path. Soon the advancing lights revealed two hunters, merelads, but having at their heels a pack of mongrel dogs, with which theyhad probably been pursuing the coon or the possum. The boys would havepassed unaware of our presence, but the dogs, scurrying along with theirnoses in the leaves, soon struck our trail, and were instantly yelpingabout us. We had possessed ourselves of the name of the commandingofficer of the neighboring post at Pendleton, and advanced boldly, representing ourselves to be his soldiers. "Then where did you get themblue pantaloons?" they demanded, exchanging glances, which showed theywere not ignorant of our true character. We coolly faced them down andresumed our march leisurely, while the boys still lingered undecided. When out of sight we abandoned the road and fled at the top of ourspeed. We had covered a long distance through forest and field beforewe heard in our wake the faint yelping of the pack. Plunging into thefirst stream, we dashed for some distance along its bed. Emerging on theopposite bank, we sped on through marshy fields, skirting high hills andbounding down through dry watercourses, over shelving stones andaccumulated barriers of driftwood; now panting up a steep ascent, andnow resting for a moment to rub our shoes with the resinous needles ofthe pine; always within hearing of the dogs, whose fitful cries variedin volume in accordance with the broken conformation of the interveningcountry. Knowing that in speed and endurance we were no match for ourfour-footed pursuers, we trusted to our precautions for throwing themoff the scent, mindful that they were but an ill-bred kennel and themore easily to be disposed of. Physically we were capable of prolongedexertion. Fainter and less frequent came the cry of the dogs, until, ceasing altogether, we were assured of our escape. 

At Oconee, on Sunday, December 18, we met a negro well acquainted withthe roads and passes into North Carolina, who furnished us informationby which we traveled for two nights, recognizing on the second objectswhich by his direction we avoided (like the house of Black BillMcKinney), and going directly to that of friendly old Tom Handcock. Thefirst of these two nights we struggled up the foot-hills and outlyingspurs of the mountains, through an uninhabited waste of rolling barrens, along an old stage road, long deserted, and in places impassable to asaddle-mule. Lying down before morning, high up on the side of themountain, we fell asleep, to be awakened by thunder and lightning, andto find torrents of hail and sleet beating upon our blankets. Chilled tothe bone, we ventured to build a small fire in a secluded place. Afterdark and before abandoning our camp, we gathered quantities of wood, stacking it upon the fire, which when we left it was a wild tower offlame lighting up the whole mountain-side in the direction we had come, and seeming, in some sort, to atone for a long succession of shiveringdays in tireless bivouac. We followed the same stage road through thescattering settlement of Casher's Valley in Jackson County, NorthCarolina. A little farther on, two houses, of hewn logs, with verandasand green blinds, just fitted the description we had received of thehome of old Tom Handcock. Knocking boldly at the door of the fartherone, we were soon in the presence of the loyal mountaineer. He and hiswife had been sleeping on a bed spread upon the floor before the fire. Drawing this to one side, they heaped the chimney with green wood, andwere soon listening with genuine delight to the story of our adventures. 

After breakfast next day, Tom, with his rifle, led us by a back road tothe house of "'Squire Larkin C. Hooper, " a leading loyalist, whom we meton the way, and together we proceeded to his house. Ragged and forlorn, we were eagerly welcomed at his home by Hooper's invalid wife anddaughters. For several days we enjoyed a hospitality given as freely toutter strangers as if we had been relatives of the family. 

[Illustration: WE ARRIVE AT HEADEN'S. ]

Here we learned of a party about to start through the mountains for EastTennessee, guided by Emanuel Headen, who lived on the crest of the BlueRidge. Our friend Tom was to be one of the party, and other refugeeswere coming over the Georgia border, where Headen, better known in thesettlement as "Man Heady, " was mustering his party. It now being nearChristmas, and the squire's family in daily expectation of a relative, who was a captain in the Confederate army, it was deemed prudent for usto go on to Headen's under the guidance of Tom. Setting out at sunset onthe 23d of December, it was late in the evening when we arrived at ourdestination, having walked nine miles up the mountain trails over alight carpeting of snow. Pausing in front of a diminutive cabin, throughthe chinks of whose stone fireplace and stick chimney the whole interiorseemed to be red hot like a furnace, our guide demanded, "Is Man Headyto hum?" Receiving a sharp negative in reply, he continued, "Well, canTom get to stay all night?" At this the door flew open and a skinnywoman appeared, her homespun frock pendent with tow-headed urchins. 

"In course you can, " she cried, leading the way into the cabin. Neverhave I seen so unique a character as this voluble, hatched-faced, tireless woman. Her skin was like yellow parchment, and I doubt if sheknew by experience what it was to be sick or weary. She had built thestake-and-cap fences that divided the fields, and she boasted of theacres she had plowed. The cabin was very small. Two bedsteads, with anarrow alleyway between, occupied half the interior. One was heaped withrubbish, and in the other slept the whole family, consisting of father, mother, a daughter of sixteen, and two little boys. When I add that theroom contained a massive timber loom, a table, a spinning-wheel, and avariety of rude seats, it will be understood that we were crowdeduncomfortably close to the fire. Shrinking back as far as possible fromthe blaze, we listened in amused wonder to the tongue of this seeminglyuntamed virago, who, nevertheless, proved to be the kindest-hearted ofwomen. She cursed, in her high, pitched tones, for a pack of fools, themen who had brought on the war. Roderic Norton, who lived down themountain, she expressed a profane desire to "stomp through the turnpike"because at some time he had stolen one of her hogs, marked, as to theear, with "two smooth craps an' a slit in the left. " Once only she hadjourneyed into the low country, where she had seen those twin marvels, steam cars and brick chimneys. On this occasion she had driven a heiferto market, making a journey of forty miles, walking beside her horseand wagon, which she took along to bring back the corn-meal received inpayment for the animal. Charged by her husband to bring back the heiferbell, and being denied that musical instrument by the purchaser, itimmediately assumed more importance to her mind than horse, wagon, andcorn-meal. Baffled at first, she proceeded to the pasture in the gray ofthe morning, cornered the cow, and cut off the bell, and, in her ownpicturesque language, "walked through the streets of Walhalla cussin'. "Rising at midnight she would fall to spinning with all her energy. Tous, waked from sleep on the floor by the humming of the wheel, sheseemed by the light of the low fire like a witch in a sunbonnet, dartingforward and back. 

We remained there several days, sometimes at the cabin and sometimes ata cavern in the rocks such as abound throughout the mountains, and whichare called by the natives "rock houses. " Many of the men at that timewere "outliers"--that is, they camped in the mountain fastnesses, receiving their food from some member of the family. Some of these men, as now, had their copper stills in the rock houses, while others, morewary of the recruiting sergeant, wandered from point to point, theironly furniture a rifle and a bed-quilt. On December 29, we were joinedat the cavern by Lieutenant Knapp and Captain Smith, Federal officers, who had also made their way from Columbia, and by three refugees fromGeorgia, whom I remember as Old Man Tigue and the two Vincent boys. During the night our party was to start across the mountains forTennessee. Tom Handcock was momentarily expected to join us. Our guidewas busy with preparations for the journey. The night coming on icycold, and a cutting wind driving the smoke of the fire into our granitehouse, we abandoned it at nine o'clock and descended to the cabin. Headen and his wife had gone to the mill for a supply of corn-meal. Although it was time for their return, we were in nowise alarmed bytheir absence, and formed a jovial circle about the roaring chimney. About midnight came a rap on the door. Thinking it was Tom Handcock andsome of his companions, I threw it open with an eager "Come in, boys!"The boys began to come in, stamping the snow from their boots andrattling their muskets on the floor, until the house was full, and yetothers were on guard without and crowding the porch. "Man Heady" and hiswife were already prisoners at the mill, and the house had been picketedfor some hours awaiting the arrival of the other refugees, who haddiscovered the plot just in time to keep out of the toils. Marshaled insome semblance of military array, we were marched down the mountain, over the frozen ground, to the house of old Roderic Norton. The Yankeeofficers were sent to an upper room, while the refugees were guardedbelow, under the immediate eyes of the soldiery. Making the best of ourmisfortune, our original trio bounced promptly into a warm bed, whichhad been recently deserted by some members of the family, and secured agood night's rest. 

Lieutenant Knapp, who had imprudently indulged in frozen chestnuts onthe mountain-side, was attacked with violent cramps, and kept thehousehold below stairs in commotion all night humanely endeavoring toassuage his agony. In the morning, although quite recovered, hecunningly feigned a continuance of his pains, and was left behind in thekeeping of two guards, who, having no suspicion of his deep designs, left their guns in the house and went out to the spring to wash. Knapp, instantly on the alert, possessed himself of the muskets, and breakingthe lock of one, by a powerful effort he bent the barrel of the other, and dashed out through the garden. His keepers, returning from thespring, shouted and rushed indoors only to find their disabled pieces. They joined our party later in the day, rendering a chapfallen accountof their detached service. 

We had but a moderate march to make to the headquarters of thebattalion, where we were to spend the night. Our guards we found kindlydisposed toward us, but bitterly upbraiding the refugees, whom theysaluted by the ancient name of Tories. Lieutenant Cogdill, in command ofthe expedition, privately informed us that his sympathies were entirelyours, but as a matter of duty he should guard us jealously while underhis military charge. If we could effect our escape thereafter we hadonly to come to his mountain home and he would conceal us until suchtime as he could despatch us with safety over the borders. Thesemountain soldiers were mostly of two classes, both opposed to the war, but doing home-guard duty in lieu of sterner service in the field. Numbers were of the outlier class, who, wearied of continual hiding inthe laurel brakes, had embraced this service as a compromise. Many weredeserters, some of whom had coolly set at defiance the terms of theirfurloughs, while others had abandoned the camps in Virginia, and, versed in mountain craft, had made their way along the Blue Ridge andput in a heroic appearance in their native valleys. 

That night we arrived at a farm-house near the river, where we foundMajor Parker, commanding the battalion, with a small detachment billetedupon the family. The farmer was a gray-haired old loyalist, whom I shallalways remember, leaning on his staff in the middle of the kitchen, barred out from his place in the chimney-corner by the noisy circle ofhis unbidden guests. Major Parker was a brisk little man, clad inbrindle jeans of ancient cut, resplendent with brass buttons. Two smallpiercing eyes, deep-set beside a hawk's-beak nose, twinkled from underthe rim of his brown straw hat, whose crown was defiantly surmounted bya cock's feather. But he was exceedingly jolly withal, and welcomed theYankees with pompous good-humor, despatching a sergeant for a jug ofapplejack, which was doubtless as inexpensive to the major as his otherhospitality. Having been a prisoner at Chicago, he prided himself on hisknowledge of dungeon etiquette and the military courtesies due to ourrank. 

We were awakened in the morning by high-pitched voices in the roombelow. Lieutenant Sill and I had passed the night in neighboring cavernsof the same miraculous feather-bed. We recognized the voice of themajor, informing some culprit that he had just ten minutes to live, andthat if he wished to send any dying message to his wife or children thenand there was his last opportunity; and then followed the tramping ofthe guards as they retired from his presence with their victim. Hastilydressing, we hurried down to find what was the matter. We were welcomedwith a cheery good-morning from the major, who seemed to be in thesunniest of spirits. No sign of commotion was visible. "Step out to thebranch, gentlemen; your parole of honor is sufficient; you'll findtowels--been a prisoner myself. " And he restrained by a sign thesentinel who would have accompanied us. At the branch, in the yard, wefound the other refugees trembling for their fate, and learned thatHeaden had gone to the orchard in the charge of a file of soldiers witha rope. While we were discussing the situation and endeavoring to calmthe apprehensions of the Georgians, the executioners returned from theorchard, our guide marching in advance and looking none the worse forthe rough handling he had undergone. The brave fellow had confided hislast message and been thrice drawn up toward the branch of anapple-tree, and as many times lowered for the information it wassupposed he would give. Nothing was learned, and it is probable he hadno secrets to disclose or conceal. 

Lieutenant Cogdill, with two soldiers, was detailed to conduct us toQuallatown, a Cherokee station at the foot of the Great Smoky Mountains. Two horses were allotted to the guard, and we set out in military order, the refugees two and two in advance, Headen and Old Man Tigue lashedtogether by the wrists, and the rear brought up by the troopers onhorseback. It was the last day of the year, and although a wintermorning, the rare mountain air was as soft as spring. We struck thebanks of the Tuckasegee directly opposite to a feathery waterfall, which, leaping over a crag of the opposite cliff, was dissipated in aglittering sheet of spray before reaching the tops of the trees below. As the morning advanced we fell into a more negligent order of marching. The beautiful river, a wide, swift current, flowing smoothly betweenthickly wooded banks, swept by on our left, and on the right wild, uninhabited mountains closed in the road. The two Vincents werestrolling along far in advance. Some distance behind them were Headenand Tigue; the remainder of us following in a general group, Sillmounted beside one of the guards. Advancing in this order, a cry fromthe front broke on the stillness of the woods, and we beheld Old ManTigue gesticulating wildly in the center of the road and screaming, "He's gone! He's gone! Catch him!" Sure enough the old man was alone, the fragment of the parted strap dangling from his outstretched wrist. The guard, who was mounted, dashed off in pursuit, followed by thelieutenant on foot, but both soon returned, giving over the hopelesschase. Thoroughly frightened by the events of the morning, Headen[18]had watched his opportunity to make good his escape, and, as weafterward learned, joined by Knapp and Tom Handcock, he conducted aparty safely to Tennessee. 

[Footnote 18: A short time ago the writer received the following letter:"Casher's Valley, May 28, 1890. Old Manuel Headen and wife are living, but separated. Julia Ann is living with her mother. The old lady isblind. Old man Norton (Roderic), to whose house you were taken asprisoner, has been dead for years. Old Tom Handcock is dead. --W. R. HOOPER. "]

At Webster, the court town of Jackson County, we were quartered for thenight in the jail, but accompanied Lieutenant Cogdill to a venisonbreakfast at the parsonage with Mrs. Harris and her daughter, who hadcalled on us the evening before. Snow had fallen during the night, andwhen we continued our march it was with the half-frozen slush crushingin and out, at every step, through our broken shoes. Before the closeof this dreary New-Year's day we came upon the scene of one of thosewild tragedies which are still of too frequent occurrence in thoseremote regions, isolated from the strong arm of the law. Our road leddown and around the mountain-side, which on our right was a barren, rocky waste, sloping gradually up from the inner curve of the arc wewere describing. From this direction arose a low wailing sound, and alittle farther on we came in view of a dismal group of men, women, andmules. In the center of the gathering lay the lifeless remains of afather and his two sons; seated upon the ground, swaying and weepingover their dead, were the mother and wives of the young men. A burialparty, armed with spades and picks, waited by their mules, while at arespectful distance from the mourners stood a circle of neighbors andpassers-by, some gazing in silent sympathy, and others not hesitating toexpress a quiet approval of the shocking tragedy. Between two families, the Hoopers and the Watsons, a bitter feud had long existed, and fromtime to time men of each clan had fallen by the rifles of the other. TheHoopers were loyal Union men, and if the Watsons yielded any loyalty itwas to the State of North Carolina. On one occasion shortly before thefinal tragedy, when one of the young Hoopers was sitting quietly in hisdoor, a light puff of smoke rose from the bushes and a rifle-ball plowedthrough his leg. The Hoopers resolved to begin the new year by wipingout their enemies, root and branch. Before light they had surrounded thelog cabin of the Watsons and secured all the male inmates, except onewho, wounded, escaped through a window. The latter afterward executed asingular revenge by killing and skinning the dog of his enemies andelevating the carcass on a pole in front of their house. 

[Illustration: THE ESCAPE OF HEADEN. ]

After a brief stay at Quallatown we set out for Asheville, leavingbehind our old and friendly guard. Besides the soldiers who now had usin charge, a Cherokee Indian was allotted to each prisoner, withinstructions to keep his man constantly in view. To travel with an armedIndian, sullen and silent, trotting at your heels like a dog, with veryexplicit instructions to blow out your brains at the first attempt toescape, is neither cheerful nor ornamental, and we were a sorry-lookingparty plodding silently along the road. Detachments of prisoners werefrequently passed over this route, and regular stopping-places wereestablished for the nights. It was growing dusk when we arrived at thefirst cantonment, which was the wing of a great barren farm-house ownedby Colonel Bryson. The place was already occupied by a party ofrefugees, and we were directed to a barn in the field beyond. We hadbrought with us uncooked rations, and while two of the soldiers wentinto the house for cooking utensils, the rest of the party, includingthe Indians, were leaning in a line upon the door-yard fence; Sill andLamson were at the end of the line, where the fence cornered with ahedge. Presently the two soldiers reappeared, one of them with an ironpot in which to cook our meat, and the other swinging in his hand aburning brand. In the wake of these guides we followed down to the barn, and had already started a fire when word came from the house that forfear of rain we had best return to the corn-barn. It was not until wewere again in the road that I noticed the absence of Sill and Lamson. Ihastened to Smith and confided the good news. The fugitives were missedalmost simultaneously by the guards, who first beat up the vicinity ofthe barn, and then, after securing the remainder of us in a corn-crib, sent out the Indians in pursuit. Faithful dogs, as these Cherokees hadshown themselves during the day, they proved but poor hunters when thegame was in the bush, and soon returned, giving over the chase. Half anhour later they were all back in camp, baking their hoe-cake in genuineaboriginal fashion, flattened on the surface of a board and inclined tothe heat of the fire. [19]

[Footnote 19: Sill and Lamson reached Loudon, Tennessee, in February. Afew days after their escape from the Indian guard they arrived at thehouse of "Shooting John Brown, " who confided them to the care of theyoung Hoopers and a party of their outlying companions. From a rockycliff overlooking the valley of the Tuckasegee they could look down onthe river roads dotted with the sheriff's posse in pursuit of theHoopers. So near were they that they could distinguish a relative of theWatsons leading the sheriff's party. One of the Hooper boys, withcharacteristic recklessness and to the consternation of the others, stood boldly out on a great rock in plain sight of his pursuers (if theyhad chanced to look up), half resolved to try his rifle at the last ofthe Watsons. ]

That I was eager to follow goes without saying, but our keepers hadlearned our slippery character. All the way to Asheville, day and night, we were watched with sleepless vigilance. There we gave our parole, Smith and I, and secured thereby comfortable quarters in the court-housewith freedom to stroll about the town. Old Man Tigue and the Vincentswere committed to the county jail. We were there a week, part of myspare time being employed in helping a Confederate company officer makeout a correct pay-roll. 

When our diminished ranks had been recruited by four more officers fromColumbia, who had been captured near the frozen summit of the GreatSmoky Mountains, we were started on a journey of sixty miles toGreenville in South Carolina. The night before our arrival we werequartered at a large farm-house. The prisoners, together with theprivates of the guard, were allotted a comfortable room, whichcontained, however, but a single bed. The officer in charge had retiredto enjoy the hospitality of the family. A flock of enormous whitepullets were roosting in the yard. Procuring an iron kettle from theservants, who looked with grinning approval upon all forms of chickenstealing, we sallied forth to the capture. Twisting the precious necksof half a dozen, we left them to die in the grass while we pierced theside of a sweet-potato mound. Loaded with our booty we retreated to thehouse undiscovered, and spent the night in cooking in one pot instead ofsleeping in one bed. The fowls were skinned instead of plucked, and, vandals that we were, dressed on the backs of the picture-frames takendown from the walls. 

At Greenville we were lodged in the county jail to await thereconstruction of railway-bridges, when we were to be transported toColumbia. The jail was a stone structure, two stories in height, withhalls through the center on both floors and square rooms on each side. The lock was turned on our little party of six in one of these upperrooms, having two grated windows looking down on the walk. Through thedoor which opened on the hall a square hole was cut as high as one'sface and large enough to admit the passage of a plate. Aside from therigor of our confinement we were treated with marked kindness. We hadscarcely walked about our dungeon before the jailer's daughters were atthe door with their autograph albums. In a few days we were playingdraughts and reading Bulwer, while the girls, without, were preparingour food and knitting for us warm new stockings. Notwithstanding allthese attentions, we were ungratefully discontented. At the end of thefirst week we were joined by seven enlisted men, Ohio boys, who likeourselves had been found at large in the mountains. From one of thesenew arrivals we procured a case-knife and a gun screw-driver. Down onthe hearth before the fire the screw-driver was placed on the thick edgeof the knife and belabored with a beef bone until a few inches of itsback were converted into a rude saw. The grate in the window was formedof cast-iron bars, passing perpendicularly through wrought-iron plates, bedded in the stone jambs. If one of these perpendicular bars, an inchand a half square, could be cut through, the plates might be easily bentso as to permit the egress of a man. With this end in view we cautiouslybegan operations. Outside of the bars a piece of carpet had beenstretched to keep out the raw wind, and behind this we worked withsafety. An hour's toil produced but a few feathery filings on thehorizontal plate, but many hands make light work, and steadily the cutgrew deeper. We recalled the adventures of Claude Duval, Dick Turpin, and Sixteen-string Jack, and sawed away. During the available hours ofthree days and throughout one entire night the blade of steel wasworrying, rasping, eating the iron bar. At last the grosser yielded tothe temper and persistence of the finer metal. It was Saturday nightwhen the toilsome cut was completed, and preparations were already underway for a speedy departure. The jail had always been regarded as toosecure to require a military guard, although soldiers were quartered inthe town; besides, the night was so cold that a crust had formed on thesnow, and both citizens and soldiers, unused to such extreme weatherwould be likely to remain indoors. For greater secrecy of movement, wedivided into small parties, aiming to traverse different roads. I was togo with my former companion, Captain Smith. Lots were cast to determinethe order of our going. First exit was allotted to four of the Ohiosoldiers. Made fast to the grating outside were a bit of rope and stripof blanket, along which to descend. Our room was immediately over thatof the jailer and his sleeping family, and beneath our opening was awindow, which each man must pass in his descent. At eleven o'clock theexodus began. The first man was passed through the bars amid asuppressed buzz of whispered cautions. His boots were handed after himin a haversack. The rest of us, pressing our faces to the frostygrating, listened breathlessly for the success of the movement we couldno longer see. Suddenly there was a crash, and in the midst ofmutterings of anger we snatched in the rag ladder and restored the pieceof carpeting to its place outside the bars. Our pioneer had hurt hishand against the rough stones, and, floundering in mid-air, had dashedhis leg through sash and glass of the window below. We could see nothingof his further movements, but soon discovered the jailer standing in thedoor, looking up and down the street, seemingly in the dark as to wherethe crash came from. At last, wearied and worried and disappointed, welay down in our blankets upon the hard floor. 

[Illustration: GREENVILLE JAIL. ]

At daylight we were awakened by the voice of Miss Emma at the hole inthe door. "Who got out last night?" "Welty. " "Well, you was fools youdidn't all go; pap wouldn't 'a' stopped you. If you'll keep the breakconcealed until night we'll let you all out. " The secret of the extremekindness of our keepers was explained. The jailer, a loyalist, retainedhis position as a civil detail, thus protecting himself and sons fromconscription. Welty had been taken in the night before, his bruises hadbeen anointed, and he had been provisioned for the journey. 

We spent the day repairing our clothing and preparing for the road. Mylong-heeled cowhides, "wife's shoes, " for which I had exchanged auniform waistcoat with a cotton-wooled old darky on the banks of theSaluda, were about parting soles from uppers, and I kept the twaintogether by winding my feet with stout cords. At supper an extra rationwas given us. As soon as it was dark the old jailer appeared among usand gave us a minute description of the different roads leading westinto the mountains, warning us of certain dangers. At eleven o'clockMiss Emma came with the great keys, and we followed her, in single file, down the stairs and out into the back yard of the jail. From the brokengratings in front, the bit of rope and strip of blanket were leftdangling in the wind. 

We made short work of leave-taking, Captain Smith and I separatingimmediately from the rest, and pushing hurriedly out of the sleepingtown, by back streets, into the bitter cold of the country roads. Westopped once to warm at the pits of some negro charcoal-burners, andbefore day dawned had traveled sixteen miles. We found a sheltered nookon the side of the mountain open to the sun, where we made a bed of dryleaves and remained for the day. At night we set out again, due west bythe stars, but before we had gone far my companion, who claimed to knowsomething of the country, insisted upon going to the left, and within amile turned into another left-hand road. I protested, claiming that thiscourse was leading us back. While we were yet contending, we came to abridgeless creek whose dark waters barred our progress, and at the samemoment, as if induced by the thought of the fording, the captain wasseized with rheumatic pains in his knees, so that he walked withdifficulty. We had just passed a house where lights were still showing, and to this we decided to return, hoping at least to find shelter forSmith. Leaving him at the gate, I went to a side porch and knocked atthe door, which was opened by a woman who proved to be friendly to ourcause, her husband being in the rebel army much against his will. Wewere soon seated to the right and left of her fireplace. Blazingpine-knots brilliantly lighted the room, and a number of beds lined thewalls. A trundle-bed before the fire was occupied by a very old woman, who was feebly moaning with rheumatism. Our hostess shouted into the oldlady's ear, "Granny, them's Yankees. " "Be they!" said she, peering at uswith her poor old eyes. "Be ye sellin' tablecloths?" When it wasexplained that we were just from the war, she demanded, in an absentway, to know if we were Britishers. We slept in one of the comfortablebeds, and, as a measure of prudence, passed the day in the woods, leaving at nightfall with well-filled haversacks. Captain Smith wasagain the victim of his rheumatism, and directing me to his friends atCæsar's Head, where I was to wait for him until Monday (it then beingTuesday), he returned to the house, little thinking that we wereseparating forever. 

I traveled very rapidly all night, hoping to make the whole distance, but day was breaking when I reached the head waters of the Saluda. Following up the stream, I found a dam on which I crossed, and althoughthe sun was rising and the voices of children mingled with the lowing ofcattle in the frosty air, I ran across the fields and gained a securehiding-place on the side of the mountain. It was a long, solitary day, and glad was I when it grew sufficiently dark to turn the littlesettlement and get into the main road up the mountain. It was six zigzagmiles to the top, the road turning on log abutments, well anchored withstones, and not a habitation on the way until I should reach Bishop'shouse, on the crest of the divide. Half-way up I paused before a bigsummer hotel, looming up in the woods like the ghost of a desertedfactory, its broken windows and rotting gateways redoubling the solitudeof the bleak mountain-side. Shortly before reaching Bishop's, "wife'sshoes" became quite unmanageable. One had climbed up my leg half-way tothe knee, and I knocked at the door with the wreck of the other in myhand. My visit had been preceded but a day by a squad of partizanraiders, who had carried away the bedding and driven off the cattle ofmy new friends, and for this reason the most generous hospitality couldoffer no better couch than the hard floor. Stretched thereon in closeproximity to the dying fire, the cold air coming up through the widecracks between the hewn planks seemed to be cutting me in sections aswith icy saws, so that I was forced to establish myself lengthwise on abroad puncheon at the side of the room and under the table. 

In this family "the gray mare was the better horse, " and poor Bishop, aninoffensive man, and a cripple withal, was wedded to a regular Xantippe. It was evident that unpleasant thoughts were dominant in the woman'smind as she proceeded sullenly and vigorously with preparations forbreakfast. The bitter bread of charity was being prepared with avengeance for the unwelcome guest. Premonitions of the coming stormflashed now and then in lightning cuffs on the ears of the children, orcrashed venomously among the pottery in the fireplace. At last therepast was spread, the table still standing against the wall, as is thecustom among mountain housewives. The good-natured husband now advancedcheerfully to lend a hand in removing it into the middle of the room. Itwas when one of the table-legs overturned the swill-pail that the longpent-up storm burst in a torrent of invective. The prospect of spendingseveral days here was a very gloomy outlook, and the relief was greatwhen it was proposed to pay a visit to Neighbor Case, whose house was inthe nearest valley, and with whose sons Captain Smith had lain inconcealment for some weeks on a former visit to the mountains. I wascurious to see his sons, who were famous outliers. From safe cover theydelighted to pick off a recruiting officer or a tax-in-kind collector, or tumble out of their saddles the last drivers of a wagon-train. Theselively young men had been in unusual demand of late, and theirhiding-place was not known even to the faithful, so I was condemned tothe society of an outlier of a less picturesque variety. Pink Bishop wasa blacksmith, and just the man to forge me a set of shoes from theleather Neighbor Case had already provided. The little still-shed, concealed from the road only by a low hill, was considered an unsafeharbor, on account of a fresh fall of snow with its sensibility totell-tale impressions. So, we set up our shoe-factory in a desertedcabin, well back on the mountain and just astride of that imaginary linewhich divides the Carolinas. From the fireplace we dug away thecorn-stalks, heaping the displaced bundles against broken windows andwindy cracks, and otherwise secured our retreat against frost andenemies. Then ensued three days of primitive shoemaking. As may beinferred, the shoes made no pretension to style. I sewed the short seamsat the sides, and split the pegs from a section of seasoned maple. Rudely constructed as these shoes were, they bore their wearertriumphantly into the promised land. 

[Illustration: PINK BISHOP AT THE STILL. ]

I restrained my eagerness to be going until Monday night, the timeagreed upon, when, my disabled companion not putting in an appearance, Iset out for my old friend's in Casher's Valley. I got safety over a longwooden bridge within half a mile of a garrisoned town. I left the road, and turned, as I believed, away from the town; but I was absolutely lostin the darkness of a snow-storm, and forced to seek counsel as well asshelter. In this plight I pressed on toward a light glimmering faintlythrough the blinding snow. It led me into the shelter of the porch to asmall brown house, cut deeply beneath the low eaves, and protected atthe sides by flanking bedrooms. My knock was answered by a girlishvoice, and from the ensuing parley, through the closed door, I learnedthat she was the daughter of a Baptist exhorter, and that she was alonein the house, her brother being away at the village, and her father, whopreached the day before at some distance, not being expected home untilthe next morning. Reassured by my civil-toned inquiries about the road, she unfastened the door and came out to the porch, where she proceededto instruct me how to go on, which was just the thing I least desired todo. By this time I had discovered the political complexion of thefamily, and, making myself known, was instantly invited in, with theassurance that her father would be gravely displeased if she permittedme to go on before he returned. I had interrupted my little benefactressin the act of writing a letter, on a sheet of foolscap which lay on anold-fashioned stand in one corner of the room, beside the ink-bottle andthe candlestick. In the diagonal corner stood a tall bookcase, thecrowded volumes nestling lovingly behind the glass doors--the onlycollection of the sort that I saw at any time in the mountains. Afeather-bed was spread upon the floor, the head raised by means of aturned-down chair, and here I was reposing comfortably when the brotherarrived. It was late in the forenoon when the minister reached home, hisrickety wagon creaking through the snow, and drawn at a snail's pace bya long-furred, knock-kneed horse. The tall but not very clerical figurewas wrapped in a shawl and swathed round the throat with many turns of awoolen tippet. The daughter ran out with eagerness to greet her fatherand tell of the wonderful arrival. I was received with genuine delight. It was the enthusiasm of a patriot eager to find a sympathetic ear forhis long-repressed views. [20]

[Footnote 20: The Rev. James H. Duckworth, now postmaster of Brevard, Transylvania County, North Carolina, and in 1868 member of the StateConstitutional Convention, in his letter of June 24, 1890, says: "I havenot forgotten those things of which you speak. I can almost see you(even in imagination) standing at the fire when I drove up to the gateand went into the house and asked you, 'Have I ever seen you before?'Just then I observed your uniform. 'Oh, yes, ' said I; 'I know who it isnow. ' . . . This daughter of whom you speak married about a year after, and is living in Morgantown, North Carolina, about one hundred milesfrom here. Hattie (for that is her name) is a pious, religious woman. "]

[Illustration: ARRIVAL HOME OF THE BAPTIST MINISTER. ]

When night came and no entreaties could prevail to detain me overanother day, the minister conducted me some distance in person, passingme on with ample directions to another exhorter, who was located forthat night at the house of a miller who kept a ferocious dog. I camefirst to the pond and then to the mill, and got into the house withoutencountering the dog. Aware of the necessity of arriving before bedtime, I had made such speed as to find the miller's family still lingeringabout the fireplace with preacher number two seated in the lay circle. That night I slept with the parson, who sat up in bed in the morning, and after disencumbering himself of a striped extinguisher nightcap, electrified the other sleepers by announcing that this was the firsttime he had ever slept with a Yankee. After breakfast the parson, armedwith staff and scrip, signified his purpose to walk with me during theday, as it was no longer dangerous to move by daylight. We must havebeen traveling the regular Baptist road, for we lodged that night at thehouse of another lay brother. The minister continued with me a few milesin the morning, intending to put me in the company of a man who wasgoing toward Casher's Valley on a hunting expedition. When we reachedhis house, however, the hunter had gone; so, after parting with myguide, I set forward through the woods, following the tracks of thehunter's horse. The shoe-prints were sometimes plainly impressed in thesnow, and again for long distances over dry leaves and bare ground butan occasional trace could be found. It was past noon when I arrived atthe house where the hunters were assembled. Quite a number of men weregathered in and about the porch, just returned from the chase. Blindedby the snow over which I had been walking in the glare of the sun, Iblundered up the steps, inquiring without much tact for the rider whohad preceded me, and was no little alarmed at receiving a rude and gruffreception. I continued in suspense for some time, until my man found anopportunity to inform me that there were suspicious persons present, thus accounting for his unexpected manner. The explanation was made at acombination meal, serving for both dinner and supper, and consistingexclusively of beans. I set out at twilight to make a walk of thirteenmiles to the house of our old friend Esquire Hooper. Eager for thecordial welcome which I knew awaited me, and nerved by the frosty air, Isped over the level wood road, much of the way running instead ofwalking. Three times I came upon bends of the same broad rivulet. Takingoff my shoes and stockings and rolling up my trousers above my knees, Itried the first passage. Flakes of broken ice were eddying against thebanks, and before gaining the middle of the stream my feet and anklesached with the cold, the sharp pain increasing at every step until Ithrew my blanket on the opposite bank and springing upon it wrapped myfeet in its dry folds. Rising a little knoll soon after making the thirdford, I came suddenly upon the familiar stopping-place of my formerjourney. It was scarcely more than nine o'clock, and the littlehardships of the journey from Cæsar's Head seemed but a cheap outlay forthe joy of the meeting with friends so interested in the varied fortunesof myself and my late companions. Together we rejoiced at the escape ofSill and Lamson, and made merry over the vicissitudes of my checkeredcareer. Here I first learned of the safe arrival in Tennessee of Knapp, Man Heady, and old Tom Handcock. 

After a day's rest I climbed the mountains to the Headen cabin, nowpresided over by the heroine of the heifer-bell, in the absence of herfugitive husband. Saddling her horse, she took me the next evening tojoin a lad who was about starting for Shooting Creek. Young Green wasawaiting my arrival, and after a brief delay we were off on a journey ofsomething like sixty miles; the journey, however, was pushed to asuccessful termination by the help of information gleaned by the way. Itwas at the close of the last night's march, which had been long anduneventful, except that we had surmounted no fewer than threesnow-capped ridges, that my blacksmith's shoes, soaked to a pulp by thewet snow, gave out altogether. On the top of the last ridge I foundmyself panting in the yellow light of the rising sun, the sad wrecks ofmy two shoes dangling from my hands, a wilderness of beauty spread outbefore me, and a sparkling field of frosty forms beneath my tinglingfeet. Stretching far into the west toward the open country of EastTennessee was the limitless wilderness of mountains, drawn like mightyfurrows across the toilsome way, the pale blue of the uttermost ridgesfading into an imperceptible union with the sky. A log house was insight down in the valley, a perpendicular column of smoke rising fromits single chimney. Toward this we picked our way, I in my stockingfeet, and my boy guide confidently predicting that we should find therequired cobbler. Of course we found him in a country where every familymakes its own shoes as much as its own bread, and he was ready to servethe traveler without pay. Notwithstanding our night's work, we tarriedonly for the necessary repairs, and just before sunset we looked downupon the scattering settlement of Shooting Creek. Standing on the bleakbrow of "Chunky Gall" Mountain, my guide recognized the first familiarobject on the trip, which was the roof of his uncle's house. At ShootingCreek I was the guest of the Widow Kitchen, whose house was the chiefone in the settlement, and whose estate boasted two slaves. The husbandhad fallen by an anonymous bullet while salting his cattle on themountain in an early year of the war. 

On the day following my arrival I was conducted over a ridge to anothercreek, where I met two professional guides, Quince Edmonston and MackHooper. As I came upon the pair parting a thicket of laurel, with theirlong rifles at a shoulder, I instantly recognized the coat of the latteras the snuff-colored sack in which I had last seen Lieutenant Lamson. Ithad been given to the man at Chattanooga, where these same guides hadconducted my former companions in safety a month before. QuinceEdmonston, the elder, had led numerous parties of Yankee officers overthe Wacheesa trail for a consideration of a hundred dollars, pledged tobe paid by each officer at Chattanooga or Nashville. 

[Illustration: SURPRISED AT MRS. KITCHEN'S. ]

Two other officers were concealed near by, and a number of refugees, awaiting a convoy, and an arrangement was rapidly made with the guides. The swollen condition of the Valley River made it necessary to remainfor several days at Shooting Creek before setting out. Mack and I werestaying at the house of Mrs. Kitchen. It was on the afternoon of amemorable Friday, the rain still falling in torrents without, that Isat before the fire poring over a small Sunday-school book, --the onlyprinted book in the house, if not in the settlement. Mack Hooper wassitting by the door. Attracted by a rustling sound in his direction, Ilooked up just in time to see his heels disappearing under the nearestbed. Leaping to my feet with an instinctive impulse to do likewise, Iwas confronted in the doorway by a stalwart Confederate officer fullyuniformed and armed. Behind him was his quartermaster-sergeant. This wasa government party collecting the tax in kind, which at that timethroughout the Confederacy was the tenth part of all crops and otherfarm productions. It was an ugly surprise. Seeing no escape, I ventureda remark on the weather: only a stare in reply. A plan of escape flashedthrough my mind like an inspiration. I seated myself quietly, and for aninstant bent my eyes upon the printed pages. The two soldiers hadadvanced to the corner of the chimney nearest the door, inquiring forthe head of the family, and keeping their eyes riveted on my hostileuniform. At this juncture I was seized with a severe fit of coughing. With one hand upon my chest, I walked slowly past the men, and laid mycarefully opened book face down upon a chest. With another step or two Iwas in the porch, and bounding into the kitchen I sprang out through awindow already opened by the women for my exit. Away I sped bareheadedthrough the pelting rain, now crashing through thick underbrush, now upto my waist in swollen streams, plunging on and on, only mindful toselect a course that would baffle horsemen in pursuit. After some milesof running I took cover behind a stack, within view of the road whichMack must take in retreating to the other settlement; and sure enoughhere he was, coming down the road with my cap and haversack, which wasalready loaded for the western journey. Mack had remained undiscoveredunder the bed, an interested listener to the conversation that ensued. The officer had been assured that I was a friendly scout; but, convincedof the contrary by my flight, he had departed swearing he would capturethat Yankee before morning if he had to search the whole settlement. Soalarmed were we for our safety that we crossed that night into a thirdvalley and slept in the loft of a horse-barn. 

On Sunday our expedition assembled on a hillside overlooking ShootingCreek, where our friends in the secret of the movement came up to bid usadieu. With guides we were a party of thirteen or fourteen, but onlythree of us officers who were to pay for our safe conduct. Each mancarried his supply of bread and meat and bedding. Some were wrapped infaded bed-quilts and some in tattered army blankets; nearly all woreragged clothes, broken shoes, and had unkempt beards. We arrived upon amountain-side overlooking the settlement of Peach Tree, and wereawaiting the friendly shades of night under which to descend to thehouse of the man who was to put us across Valley River. Prematuredarkness was accompanied with torrents of rain, through which wefollowed our now uncertain guides. At last the light of the cabin wewere seeking gleamed humidly through the trees. Most of the family fledinto the outhouses at our approach, some of them not reappearing untilwe were disposed for sleep in a half-circle before the fire. The lastarrivals were two tall women in homespun dresses and calico sunbonnets. They slid timidly in at the door, with averted faces, and then with arush and a bounce covered themselves out of sight in a bed, where theyhad probably been sleeping in the same clothing when we approached thehouse. Here we learned that a cavalcade of four hundred Texan Rangershad advanced into Tennessee by the roads on the day before. Our guides, familiar with the movements of these dreaded troopers, calculated thatwith the day's delay enforced by the state of the river a blow wouldhave been struck and the marauders would be in full retreat before weshould arrive on the ground. We passed that day concealed in a stable, and as soon as it was sufficiently dark we proceeded in a body to thebank of the river, attended by a man and a horse. The stream was narrow, but the current was full and swift. The horse breasted the flood withdifficulty, but he bore us all across one at a time, seated behind thefarmer. 

We had now left behind us the last settlement, and before us lay onlywild and uninhabited mountains. The trail we traveled was an Indian pathextending for nearly seventy miles through an uninhabited wilderness. Instead of crossing the ridges it follows the trend of the range, winding for the most part along the crests of the divides. Theoccasional traveler, having once mounted to its level, pursues hissolitary way with little climbing. 

Early in the morning of the fourth day our little party was assembledupon the last mountain overlooking the open country of East Tennessee. Some of us had been wandering in the mountains for the whole winter. Wewere returning to a half-forgotten world of farms and fences, roads andrailways. Below us stretched the Tellico River away toward the line oftowns marking the course of the Nashville and Chattanooga Railroad. Oneof the guides who had ventured down to the nearest house returned withinformation that the four hundred Texan Rangers had burned the depot atPhiladelphia Station the day before, but were now thought to be out ofthe country. We could see the distant smoke arising from the ruins. Where the river flowed out of the mountains were extensive iron-works, the property of a loyal citizen, and in front of his house we halted forconsultation. He regretted that we had shown ourselves so soon, as therear-guard of the marauders had passed the night within sight of wherewe now stood. Our nearest pickets were at Loudon, thirty miles distanton the railway, and for this station we were advised to make all speed. 

[Illustration: THE MEETING WITH THE SECOND OHIO HEAVY ARTILLERY. ]

For half a mile the road ran along the bank of the river, and thenturned around a wooded bluff to the right. Opposite this bluff andaccessible by a shallow ford was another hill, where it was feared thatsome of the Rangers were still lingering about their camp. As we came tothe turn in the road our company was walking rapidly in Indian file, guide Edmonston and I at the front. Coming around the bluff from theopposite direction was a countryman mounted on a powerful gray mare. Hisovercoat was army blue, but he wore a bristling fur cap, and his riflewas slung on his back. At sight of us he turned in his saddle to shoutto some one behind, and bringing his gun to bear came tearing andswearing down the road, spattering the gravel under the big hoofs of thegray. Close at his heels rode two officers in Confederate gray uniforms, and a motley crowd of riders closed up the road behind. In an instantthe guide and I were surrounded, the whole cavalcade leveling their gunsat the thicket and calling on our companions, who could be plainly heardcrashing through the bushes, to halt. The dress of but few of ourcaptors could be seen, nearly all being covered with rubber talmas; buttheir mounts, including mules as well as horses, were equipped withevery variety of bridle and saddle to be imagined. I knew at a glancethat this was no body of our cavalry. If we were in the hands of theRangers, the fate of the guides and refugees would be the hardest. Ithought they might spare the lives of the officers. "Who are you? Whatare you doing here?" demanded the commander, riding up to us andscrutinizing our rags. I hesitated a moment, and then, throwing off theblanket I wore over my shoulders, simply said, "You can see what I am. "My rags were the rags of a uniform, and spoke for themselves. 

Our captors proved to be a company of the 2d Ohio Heavy Artillery, inpursuit of the marauders into whose clutches we thought we had fallen. The farmer on the gray mare was the guide of the expedition, and the twomen uniformed as rebel officers were Union scouts. The irregularequipment of the animals, which had excited my suspicion most, as wellas the animals themselves, had been hastily impressed from the countryabout the village of Loudon, where the 2d Ohio was stationed. On thefollowing evening, which was the 4th of March, the day of the secondinauguration of President Lincoln, we walked into Loudon and gladlysurrendered ourselves to the outposts of the Ohio Heavy Artillery. 

ESCAPE OF GENERAL BRECKINRIDGE

BY JOHN TAYLOR WOOD

As one of the aides of President Jefferson Davis, I left Richmond withhim and his cabinet on April 2, 1865, the night of evacuation, andaccompanied him through Virginia, the Carolinas, and Georgia, until hiscapture. Except Lieutenant Barnwell, I was the only one of the party whoescaped. After our surprise, I was guarded by a trooper, a German, whohad appropriated my horse and most of my belongings. I determined, ifpossible, to escape; but after witnessing Mr. Davis's unsuccessfulattempt, I was doubtful of success. However, I consulted him, and headvised me to try. Taking my guard aside, I asked him, by signs (for hecould speak little or no English), to accompany me outside thepicket-line to the swamp, showing him at the same time a twenty-dollargold piece. He took it, tried the weight of it in his hands, and put itbetween his teeth. Fully satisfied that it was not spurious, he escortedme with his carbine to the stream, the banks of which were lined with afew straggling alder-bushes and thick saw-grass. I motioned him toreturn to camp, only a few rods distant. He shook his head, saying, "_Nein, nein_. " I gave him another twenty-dollar gold piece; he chinkedthem together, and held up two fingers. I turned my pockets inside out, and then, satisfied that I had no more, he left me. 

Creeping a little farther into the swamp, I lay concealed for aboutthree hours in the most painful position, sometimes moving a few yardsalmost _ventre à terre_ to escape notice; for I was within hearing ofthe camps on each side of the stream, and often when the soldiers camedown for water, or to water their horses, I was within a few yards ofthem. Some two hours or more passed thus before the party moved. Thewagons left first, then the bugles sounded, and the president started onone of his carriage-horses, followed by his staff and a squadron of theenemy. Shortly after their departure I saw some one leading twoabandoned horses into the swamp, and recognized Lieutenant Barnwell ofour escort. Secreting the horses, we picked up from the debris of thecamp parts of two saddles and bridles, and with some patching and tyingfitted out our horses, as sad and war-worn animals as ever man bestrode. Though hungry and tired, we gave the remains of the camp provisions to aMr. Fenn for dinner. He recommended us to Widow Paulk's, ten milesdistant, an old lady rich in cattle alone. 

The day after my escape, I met Judah P. Benjamin as M. Bonfals, a Frenchgentleman traveling for information, in a light wagon, with ColonelLeovie, who acted as interpreter. With goggles on, his beard grown, ahat well over his face, and a large cloak hiding his figure, no onewould have recognized him as the late secretary of state of theConfederacy. I told him of the capture of Mr. Davis and his party, andmade an engagement to meet him near Madison, Florida, and there decideupon our future movements. He was anxious to push on, and left us tofollow more leisurely, passing as paroled soldiers returning home. Forthe next three days we traveled as fast as our poor horses would permit, leading or driving them; for even if they had been strong enough, theirbacks were in such a condition that we could not ride. We held on tothem simply in the hope that we might be able to dispose of them orexchange them to advantage; but we finally were forced to abandon one. 

On the 13th we passed through Valdosta, the first place since leavingWashington, in upper Georgia, in which we were able to purchaseanything. Here I secured two hickory shirts and a pair of socks, a mostwelcome addition to my outfit; for, except what I stood in, I had leftall my baggage behind. Near Valdosta we found Mr. Osborne Barnwell, anuncle of my young friend, a refugee from the coast of South Carolina, where he had lost a beautiful estate, surrounded with all the comfortsand elegances which wealth and a refined taste could offer. Here in thepine forests, as far as possible from the paths of war, and almostoutside of civilization, he had brought his family of ladies andchildren, and with the aid of his servants, most of whom had followedhim, had built with a few tools a rough log cabin with six or eightrooms, but without nails, screws, bolts, or glass--almost as primitive abuilding as Robinson Crusoe's. But, in spite of all drawbacks, theingenuity and deft hands of the ladies had given to the premises an airof comfort and refinement that was most refreshing. Here I rested twodays, enjoying the company of this charming family, with whom LieutenantBarnwell remained. On the 15th I crossed into Florida, and rode toGeneral Finnegan's, near Madison. Here I met General Breckinridge, thelate secretary of war of the Confederacy, alias Colonel Cabell, and hisaide, Colonel Wilson, --a pleasant encounter for both parties. Mr. Benjamin had been in the neighborhood, but, hearing that the enemy werein Madison, had gone off at a tangent. We were fully posted as to thedifferent routes to the seaboard by General Finnegan, and discussed withhim the most feasible way of leaving the country. I inclined to theeastern coast, and this was decided on. I exchanged my remaining horsewith General Finnegan for a better, giving him fifty dollars to boot. Leaving Madison, we crossed the Suwanee River at Moody's Ferry, and tookthe old St. Augustine road, but seldom traveled in late years, as itleads through a pine wilderness, and there is one stretch of twentymiles with only water of bad quality, at the Diable Sinks. I rode out ofmy way some fifteen miles to Mr. Yulee's, formerly senator of the UnitedStates, and afterward Confederate senator, hoping to meet Mr. Benjamin;but he was too wily to be found at the house of a friend. Mr. Yulee wasabsent on my arrival, but Mrs. Yulee, a charming lady, and one of anoted family of beautiful women, welcomed me heartily. Mr. Yuleereturned during the night from Jacksonville, and gave me the first newsof what was going on in the world that I had had for nearly a month, including the information that Mr. Davis and party had reached HiltonHead on their way north. 

Another day's ride brought us to the house of the brothers William andSamuel Owens, two wealthy and hospitable gentlemen, near Orange Lake. Here I rejoined General Breckinridge, and we were advised to secure theservices and experience of Captain Dickinson. We sent to Waldo for him, and a most valuable friend he proved. During the war he had renderednotable services; among others he had surprised and captured the UnitedStates gunboat _Columbine_ on the St. John's River, one of whose smallboats he had retained, and kept concealed near the banks of the river. This boat with two of his best men he now put at our disposal, withorders to meet us on the upper St. John. 

We now passed through a much more interesting country than the two orthree hundred miles of pines we had just traversed. It was betterwatered, the forests were more diversified with varied species, occasionally thickets or hummocks were met with, and later these gaveplace to swamps and everglades with a tropical vegetation. The road ledby Silver Spring, the clear and crystal waters of which show at thedepth of hundreds of feet almost as distinctly as though seen throughair. 

We traveled incognito, known only to good friends, who sent us stage bystage from one to another, and by all we were welcomed most kindly. Besides those mentioned, I recall with gratitude the names of JudgeDawkins, Mr. Mann, Colonel Summers, Major Stork, all of whom overwhelmedus with kindness, offering us of everything they had. Of money they wereas bare as ourselves, for Confederate currency had disappeared assuddenly as snow before a warm sun, and greenbacks were as yet unknown. Before leaving our friends, we laid in a three weeks' supply of stores;for we could not depend upon obtaining any further south. 

On May 25 we struck the St. John's River at Fort Butler, oppositeVolusia, where we met Russell and O'Toole, two of Dickinson's command, in charge of the boat; and two most valuable and trustworthy comradesthey proved to be, either in camp or in the boat, as hunters orfishermen. The boat was a man-of-war's small four-oared gig; her outfitwas scanty, but what was necessary we rapidly improvised. Here GeneralBreckinridge and I gave our horses to our companions, and thus ended mylong ride of a thousand miles from Virginia. 

Stowing our supplies away, we bade good-by to our friends, and startedup the river with a fair wind. Our party consisted of GeneralBreckinridge; his aide, Colonel Wilson of Kentucky; the general'sservant, Tom, who had been with him all through the war; besidesRussell, O'Toole, and I, --six in all. With our stores, arms, etc. , itwas a tight fit to get into the boat; there was no room to lie down orto stretch. At night we landed, and, like old campaigners, were sooncomfortable. But at midnight the rain came down in bucketfuls, andcontinued till nearly morning; and, notwithstanding every effort, alarge portion of our supplies were soaked and rendered worthless, and, what was worse, some of our powder shared the same fate. 

Morning broke on a thoroughly drenched and unhappy company; but a littlerum and water, with a corn-dodger and the rising sun, soon stirred us, and with a fair wind we made a good day's run, --some thirty-five miles. Except the ruins of two huts, there was no sign that a human being hadever visited these waters; for the war and the occasional visit of agunboat had driven off the few settlers. The river gradually becamenarrower and more tortuous as we approached its head waters. The banksare generally low, with a few sandy elevations, thickly wooded orswampy. Occasionally we passed a small opening, or savanna, on whichwere sometimes feeding a herd of wild cattle and deer; at the latter wehad several potshots, all wide. Alligators, as immovable as the logs onwhich they rested, could be counted by hundreds, and of all sizes up totwelve or fifteen feet. Occasionally, as we passed uncomfortably near, we could not resist, even with our scant supply of ammunition, givingthem a little cold lead between the head and shoulders, the onlyvulnerable place. With a fair wind we sailed the twelve miles acrossLake Monroe, a pretty sheet of water, the deserted huts of Enterpriseand Mellonville on each side. Above the lake the river became stillnarrower and more tortuous, dividing sometimes into numerous branches, most of which proved to be mere _culs-de-sac_. The long moss, reachingfrom the overhanging branches to the water, gave to the surroundings amost weird and funereal aspect. 

On May 29 we reached Lake Harney, whence we determined to make theportage to Indian River. O'Toole was sent to look for some means ofmoving our boat. He returned next day with two small black bulls yokedto a pair of wheels such as are used by lumbermen. Their owner was acompound of Caucasian, African, and Indian, with the shrewdness of thewhite, the good temper of the negro, and the indolence of the red man. He was at first exorbitant in his demands; but a little money, sometobacco, and a spare fowling-piece made him happy, and he was ready tolet us drive his beasts to the end of the peninsula. It required someskill to mount the boat securely on the wheels and to guard against anyupsets or collisions, for our escape depended upon carrying it safelyacross. 

The next morning we made an early start. Our course was an easterly one, through a roadless, flat, sandy pine-barren, with an occasional thicketand swamp. From the word "go" trouble with the bulls began. Their ownerseemed to think that in furnishing them he had fulfilled his part of thecontract. They would neither "gee" nor "haw"; if one started ahead, theother would go astern. If by accident they started ahead together, theywould certainly bring up with their heads on each side of a tree. Occasionally they would lie down in a pool to get rid of the flies, andonly by the most vigorous prodding could they be induced to move. 

Paul, the owner, would loiter in the rear, but was always on hand whenwe halted for meals. Finally we told him, "No work, no grub; no drivebulls, no tobacco. " This roused him to help us. Two days were thusoccupied in covering eighteen miles. It would have been less labor tohave tied the beasts, put them into the boat, and hauled it across theportage. The weather was intensely hot, and our time was made miserableby day with sand-flies, and by night with mosquitos. 

The waters of Indian River were a most welcome sight, and we hoped thatmost of our troubles were over. Paul and his bulls of Bashan were gladlydismissed to the wilderness. Our first care was to make good any defectsin our boat: some leaks were stopped by a little calking and pitching. Already our supply of provisions began to give us anxiety: only baconand sweet potatoes remained. The meal was wet and worthless, and, whatwas worse, all our salt had dissolved. However, with the waters alivewith fish, and some game on shore, we hoped to pull through. 

We reached Indian River, or lagoon, opposite Cape Carnaveral. It extendsalong nearly the entire eastern coast of Florida, varying in width fromthree to six miles, and is separated from the Atlantic by a narrow sandridge, which is pierced at different points by shifting inlets. It isvery shoal, so much so that we were obliged to haul our boat out nearlyhalf a mile before she would float, and the water is teeming withstingarees, sword-fish, crabs, etc. But once afloat, we headed to thesouthward with a fair wind. 

For four days we continued to make good progress, taking advantage ofevery fair wind by night as well as by day. Here, as on the St. John'sRiver, the same scene of desolation as far as human beings wereconcerned was presented. We passed a few deserted cabins, around whichwe were able to obtain a few cocoanuts and watermelons, a most welcomeaddition to our slim commissariat. Unfortunately, oranges were not inseason. Whenever the breeze left us the heat was almost suffocating;there was no escape for it. If we landed, and sought any shade, themosquitos would drive us at once to the glare of the sun. When sleepingon shore, the best protection was to bury ourselves in the sand, withcap drawn down over the head (my buckskin gauntlets proved invaluable);if in the boat, to wrap the sail or tarpaulin around us. Besides thisplague, sand-flies, gnats, swamp-flies, ants, and other insectsabounded. The little black ant is especially bold and warlike. If, inmaking our beds in the sand, we disturbed one of their hives, they wouldrally in thousands to the attack, and the only safety was in a hastyshake and change of residence. Passing Indian River inlet, the riverbroadens, and there is a thirty-mile straight-away course to Gilbert'sBar, or Old Inlet, now closed; then begin the Jupiter Narrows, where thechannel is crooked, narrow, and often almost closed by the dense growthof mangroves, juniper, saw-grass, etc. , making a jungle that only awater-snake could penetrate. Several times we lost our reckoning, andhad to retreat and take a fresh start; an entire day was lost in theseeverglades, which extend across the entire peninsula. Finally, by goodluck, we stumbled on a short "haulover" to the sea, and determined atonce to take advantage of it, and to run our boat across and launch herin the Atlantic. A short half-mile over the sand-dunes, and we wereclear of the swamps and marshes of Indian River, and were reveling inthe Atlantic, free, at least for a time, from mosquitos, which hadpunctured and bled us for the last three weeks. 

[Illustration: SAND AS A DEFENSE AGAINST MOSQUITOS. ]

On Sunday, June 4, we passed Jupiter Inlet, with nothing in sight. Thelighthouse had been destroyed the first year of the war. From this pointwe had determined to cross Florida Channel to the Bahamas, about eightymiles; but the wind was ahead, and we could do nothing but work slowlyto the southward, waiting for a slant. It was of course a desperateventure to cross this distance in a small open boat, which even amoderate sea would swamp. Our provisions now became a very seriousquestion. As I have said, we had lost all the meal, and the sweetpotatoes, our next main-stay, were sufficient only for two days more. Wehad but little more ammunition than was necessary for our revolvers, andthese we might be called upon to use at any time. Very fortunately forus, it was the time of the year when the green turtle deposits its eggs. Russell and O'Toole were old beach-combers, and had hunted eggs before. Sharpening a stick, they pressed it into the sand as they walked along, and wherever it entered easily they would dig. After some hours' searchwe were successful in finding a nest which had not been destroyed, and Ido not think prospectors were ever more gladdened by the sight of "theyellow" than we were at our find. The green turtle's egg is about thesize of a walnut, with a white skin like parchment that you can tear, but not break. The yolk will cook hard, but the longer you boil the eggthe softer the white becomes. The flavor is not unpleasant, and for thefirst two days we enjoyed them; but then we were glad to vary the farewith a few shell-fish and even with snails. 

[Illustration: SEARCHING FOR TURTLES' EGGS. ]

From Cape Carnaveral to Cape Florida the coast trends nearly north andsouth in a straight line, so that we could see at a long distanceanything going up or down the shore. Some distance to the southward ofJupiter Inlet we saw a steamer coming down, running close to the beachto avoid the three-and four-knot current of the stream. From her yardsand general appearance I soon made her out to be a cruiser, so we hauledour boat well up on the sands, turned it over on its side, and went backamong the palmettos. When abreast of us and not more than half a mileoff, with colors flying, we could see the officer of the deck andothers closely scanning the shore. We were in hopes they would look uponour boat as flotsam and jetsam, of which there was more or less strewnupon the beach. To our great relief, the cruiser passed us, and when shewas two miles or more to the southward we ventured out and approachedthe boat, but the sharp lookout saw us, and, to our astonishment, thesteamer came swinging about, and headed up the coast. The question atonce arose, What was the best course to pursue? The general thought wehad better take to the bush again, and leave the boat, hoping they wouldnot disturb it. Colonel Wilson agreed with his chief. I told him thatsince we had been seen, the enemy would certainly destroy or carry offthe boat, and the loss meant, if not starvation, at least privation, andno hope of escaping from the country. Besides, the mosquitos would suckus as dry as Egyptian mummies. I proposed that we should meet themhalf-way, in company with Russell and O'Toole, who were paroled men, andfortunately had their papers with them, and I offered to row off and seewhat was wanted. He agreed, and, launching our boat and throwing in twobuckets of eggs, we pulled out. By this time the steamer was abreast ofus, and had lowered a boat which met us half-way. I had one oar, andO'Toole the other. To the usual hail I paid no attention except to stoprowing. A ten-oared cutter with a smart-looking crew dashed alongside. The sheen was not yet off the lace and buttons of the youngster incharge. With revolver in hand he asked us who we were, where we camefrom, and where we were going. "Cap'n, " said I, "please put awaythat-ar pistol, --I don't like the looks of it, --and I'll tell you allabout us. We've been rebs and there ain't no use saying we weren't; butit's all up now, and we got home too late to put in a crop, so we justmade up our minds to come down shore and see if we couldn't findsomething. It's all right, Cap'n; we've got our papers. Want to see 'em?Got 'em fixed up at Jacksonville. " O'Toole and Russell handed him theirparoles, which he said were all right. He asked for mine. I turned mypockets out, looked in my hat, and said: "I must er dropped mine incamp, but 'tis just the same as theirn. " He asked who was ashore. I toldhim, "There's more of we-uns b'iling some turtle-eggs for dinner. Cap'n, I'd like to swap some eggs for tobacco or bread. " His crew soon producedfrom the slack of their frocks pieces of plug, which they passed onboard in exchange for our eggs. I told the youngster if he'd come tocamp we'd give him as many as he could eat. Our hospitality wasdeclined. Among other questions he asked if there were any batteries onshore--a battery on a beach where there was not a white man within ahundred miles! "Up oars--let go forward--let fall--give 'way!" were allfamiliar orders; but never before had they sounded so welcome. As theyshoved off, the coxswain said to the youngster, "That looks like aman-of-war's gig, sir"; but he paid no attention to him. We pulledleisurely ashore, watching the cruiser. The boat went up to the davitsat a run, and she started to the southward again. The general was verymuch relieved, for it was a narrow escape. 

[Illustration: THROUGH A SHALLOW LAGOON. ]

The wind still holding to the southward and eastward, we could workonly slowly to the southward, against wind and current. At times wesuffered greatly for want of water; our usual resource was to dig forit, but often it was so brackish and warm that when extreme thirstforced its use the consequences were violent pains and retchings. Onemorning we saw a few wigwams ashore, and pulled in at once and landed. It was a party of Seminoles who had come out of the everglades like thebears to gather eggs. They received us kindly, and we devouredravenously the remnants of their breakfast of fish and _kountee_. Onlythe old chief spoke a little English. Not more than two or three hundredof this once powerful and warlike tribe remain in Florida; they occupysome islands in this endless swamp to the southward of Lake Okeechobee. They have but little intercourse with the whites, and come out on thecoast only at certain seasons to fish. We were very anxious to obtainsome provisions from them, but excepting kountee they had nothing tospare. This is an esculent resembling arrowroot, which they dig, pulverize, and use as flour. Cooked in the ashes, it makes a palatablebut tough cake, which we enjoyed after our long abstinence from bread. The old chief took advantage of our eagerness for supplies, anddetermined to replenish his powder-horn. Nothing else would do; not evenan old coat, or fish-hooks, or a cavalry saber would tempt him. Powderonly he would have for their long, heavy small-bore rifles withflintlocks, such as Davy Crockett used. We reluctantly divided with himour very scant supply in exchange for some of their flour. We partedgood friends, after smoking the pipe of peace. 

[Illustration: EXCHANGING THE BOAT FOR THE SLOOP. ]

On the 7th, off New River Inlet, we discovered a small sail standing tothe northward. The breeze was very light, so we downed our sail, got outour oars, and gave chase. The stranger stood out to seaward, andendeavored to escape; but slowly we overhauled her, and finally a shotcaused her mainsail to drop. As we pulled alongside I saw from the dressof the crew of three that they were man-of-war's men, and divined thatthey were deserters. They were thoroughly frightened at first, for ourappearance was not calculated to impress them favorably. To ourquestions they returned evasive answers or were silent, and finallyasked by what authority we had overhauled them. We told them that thewar was not over so far as we were concerned; that they were ourprisoners, and their boat our prize; that they were both deserters andpirates, the punishment of which was death; but that under thecircumstances we would not surrender them to the first cruiser we met, but would take their paroles and exchange boats. To this theystrenuously objected. They were well armed, and although we outnumberedthem five to three (not counting Tom), still, if they could get thefirst bead on us the chances were about equal. They were desperate, andnot disposed to surrender their boat without a tussle. The general and Istepped into their boat, and ordered the spokesman and leader to goforward. He hesitated a moment, and two revolvers looked him in theface. Sullenly he obeyed our orders. The general said, "Wilson, disarmthat man. " The colonel, with pistol in hand, told him to hold up hishands. He did so while the colonel drew from his belt a navy revolverand a sheath-knife. The other two made no further show of resistance, but handed us their arms. The crew disposed of, I made an examination ofour capture. Unfortunately, her supply of provisions was verysmall--only some "salt-horse" and hardtack, with a breaker of freshwater, and we exchanged part of them for some of our konatee andturtles' eggs. But it was in our new boat that we were particularlyfortunate: sloop-rigged, not much longer than our gig, but with morebeam and plenty of freeboard, decked over to the mast, and well found insails and rigging. After our experience in a boat the gunwale of whichwas not more than eighteen inches out of water, we felt that we had acraft able to cross the Atlantic. Our prisoners, submitting to theinevitable, soon made themselves at home in their new boat, became morecommunicative, and wanted some information as to the best course bywhich to reach Jacksonville or Savannah. We were glad to give them thebenefit of our experience, and on parting handed them their knives andtwo revolvers, for which they were very thankful. 

Later we were abreast of Green Turtle Key, with wind light and ahead;still, with all these drawbacks, we were able to make some progress. Ournew craft worked and sailed well, after a little addition of ballast. Before leaving the coast, we found it would be necessary to call at FortDallas or some other point for supplies. It was running a great risk, for we did not know whom we should find there, whether friend or foe. But without at least four or five days' rations of some kind, it wouldnot be safe to attempt the passage across the Gulf Stream. However, before venturing to do so, we determined to try to replenish our larderwith eggs. Landing on the beach, we hunted industriously for some hours, literally scratching for a living; but the ground had evidently beenmost effectually gone over before, as the tracks of bears proved. A fewonions, washed from some passing vessel, were eagerly devoured. Wescanned the washings along the strand in vain for anything that wouldsatisfy hunger. Nothing remained but to make the venture of stopping atthe fort. This fort, like many others, was established during theSeminole war, and at its close was abandoned. It is near the mouth ofthe Miami River, a small stream which serves as an outlet to theoverflow of the everglades. Its banks are crowded to the water's edgewith tropical verdure, with many flowering plants and creepers, all thecolors of which are reflected in its clear waters. The old barracks werein sight as we slowly worked our way against the current. Located in asmall clearing, with cocoanut-trees in the foreground, the whitebuildings made, with a backing of deep green, a very pretty picture. Weapproached cautiously, not knowing with what reception we should meet. As we neared the small wharf, we found waiting some twenty or thirtymen, of all colors, from the pale Yankee to the ebony Congo, all armed:a more motley and villainous-looking crew never trod the deck of one ofCaptain Kidd's ships. We saw at once with whom we had to deal--desertersfrom the army and navy of both sides, with a mixture of Spaniards andCubans, outlaws and renegades. A burly villain, towering head andshoulders above his companions, and whose shaggy black head scorned anycovering, hailed us in broken English, and asked who we were. Wreckers, I replied; that we left our vessel outside, and had come in for waterand provisions. He asked where we had left our vessel, and her name, evidently suspicious, which was not surprising, for our appearance wascertainly against us. Our head-gear was unique: the general wore a strawhat that napped over his head like the ears of an elephant; ColonelWilson, an old cavalry cap that had lost its visor; another, a turbanmade of some number 4 duck canvas; and all were in our shirt-sleeves, the colors of which were as varied as Joseph's coat. I told him we hadleft her to the northward a few miles, that a gunboat had spoken us afew hours before, and had overhauled our papers, and had found them allright. After a noisy powwow we were told to land, that our papers mightbe examined. I said no, but if a canoe were sent off, I would let one ofour men go on shore and buy what we wanted. I was determined not totrust our boat within a hundred yards of the shore. Finally a canoepaddled by two negroes came off, and said no one but the captain wouldbe permitted to land. O'Toole volunteered to go, but the boatmen wouldnot take him, evidently having had their orders. I told them to telltheir chief that we had intended to spend a few pieces of gold withthem, but since he would not permit it, we would go elsewhere forsupplies. We got out our sweeps, and moved slowly down the river, alight breeze helping us. The canoe returned to the shore, and soon somefifteen or twenty men crowded into four or five canoes and dugouts, andstarted for us. We prepared for action, determined to give them a warmreception. Even Tom looked after his carbine, putting on a fresh cap. 

Though outnumbered three to one, still we were well under cover in ourboat, and could rake each canoe as it came up. We determined to take allthe chances, and to open fire as soon as they came within range. I toldRussell to try a shot at one some distance ahead of the others. He broketwo paddles on one side and hit one man, not a bad beginning. This canoedropped to the rear at once; the occupants of the others opened fire, but their shooting was wild from the motions of their small craft. Thegeneral tried and missed; Tom thought he could do better than hismaster, and made a good line shot, but short. The general advisedhusbanding our ammunition until they came within easy range. Waiting alittle while, Russell and the colonel fired together, and the bowman inthe nearest canoe rolled over, nearly upsetting her. They were nowevidently convinced that we were in earnest, and, after giving us anineffectual volley, paddled together to hold a council of war. Soon asingle canoe with three men started for us with a white flag. We hoveto, and waited for them to approach. When within hail, I asked what waswanted. A white man, standing in the stern, with two negroes paddling, replied:

"What did you fire on us for? We are friends. "

"Friends do not give chase to friends. "

"We wanted to find out who you are. "

"I told you who we are; and if you are friends, sell us someprovisions. "

"Come on shore, and you can get what you want. "

Our wants were urgent, and it was necessary, if possible, to make someterms with them; but it would not be safe to venture near their lairagain. We told them that if they would bring us some supplies we wouldwait, and pay them well in gold. The promise of gold served as a bait tosecure some concession. After some parleying it was agreed that O'Tooleshould go on shore in their canoe, be allowed to purchase someprovisions, and return in two hours. The bucaneer thought the time tooshort, but I insisted that if O'Toole were not brought back in twohours, I would speak the first gunboat I met, and return with her andhave their nest of freebooters broken up. Time was important, for we hadnoticed soon after we had started down the river a black column of smokeascending from near the fort, undoubtedly a signal to some of theircraft in the vicinity to return, for I felt convinced that they hadother craft besides canoes at their disposal; hence their anxiety todetain us. O'Toole was told to be as dumb as an oyster as to ourselves, but wide awake as to the designs of our dubious friends. The generalgave him five eagles for his purchase, tribute-money. He jumped into thecanoe, and all returned to the fort. We dropped anchor underfoot toawait his return, keeping a sharp lookout for any strange sail. The twohours passed in pleasant surmises as to what he would bring off; anotherhalf-hour passed, and no sign of his return; and we began to despair ofour anticipated feast, and of O'Toole, a bright young Irishman, whosegood qualities had endeared him to us all. The anchor was up, and slowlywith a light breeze we drew away from the river, debating what should beour next move. The fort was shut in by a projecting point, and three orfour miles had passed when the welcome sight of a canoe astern made usheave to. It was O'Toole with two negroes, a bag of hard bread, twohams, some rusty salt pork, sweet potatoes, fruit, and, most importantof all, two breakers of water and a keg of New England rum. WhileO'Toole gave us his experience, a ham was cut, and a slice between twoof hardtack, washed down with a jorum of rum and water, with a dessertof oranges and bananas, was a feast to us more enjoyable than any evereaten at Delmonico's or the Café Riche. On his arrival on shore, ourambassador had been taken to the quarters of Major Valdez, who claimedto be an officer of the Federals, and by him he was thoroughlycross-examined. He had heard of the breaking up of the Confederacy, butnot of the capture of Mr. Davis, and was evidently skeptical of ourstory as to being wreckers, and connected us in some way with the losingparty, either as persons of note or a party escaping with treasure. However, O'Toole baffled all his queries, and was proof against bothblandishments and threats. He learned what he had expected, that theywere looking for the return of a schooner; hence the smoke signal, andthe anxiety to detain us as long as possible. It was only when he saw usleaving, after waiting over two hours, that the major permitted him tomake a few purchases and rejoin us. 

Night, coming on, found us inside of Key Biscayne, the beginning of thesystem of innumerable keys, or small islands, extending from this pointto the Tortugas, nearly two hundred miles east and west, at theextremity of the peninsula. Of coral formation, as soon as it is builtup to the surface of the water it crumbles under the action of the seaand sun. Sea-fowl rest upon it, dropping the seed of some marine plants, or the hard mangrove is washed ashore on it, and its all-embracing rootssoon spread in every direction; so are formed these keys. Darkness andshoal water warned us to anchor. We passed an unhappy night fightingmosquitos. As the sun rose, we saw to the eastward a schooner of thirtyor forty tons standing down toward us with a light wind; no doubt it wasone from the fort sent in pursuit. Up anchor, up sail, out sweeps, andwe headed down Biscayne Bay, a shoal sheet of water between the reefsand mainland. The wind rose with the sun, and, being to windward, theschooner had the benefit of it first, and was fast overhauling us. Thewater was shoaling, which I was not sorry to see, for our draft musthave been from two to three feet less than that of our pursuer, and werecognized that our best chance of escape was by drawing him into shoalwater, while keeping afloat ourselves. By the color and break of thewater I saw that we were approaching a part of the bay where the shoalsappeared to extend nearly across, with narrow channels between them likethe furrows in a plowed field, with occasional openings from one channelinto another. Some of the shoals were just awash, others bare. Ahead wasa reef on which there appeared but very little water. I could see noopening into the channel beyond. To attempt to haul by the wind oneither tack would bring us in a few minutes under fire of the schoonernow coming up hand over hand. I ordered the ballast to be thrownoverboard, and determined, as our only chance, to attempt to force herover the reef. She was headed for what looked like a little breakwateron our port bow. As the ballast went overboard we watched the bottomanxiously; the water shoaled rapidly, and the grating of the keel overthe coral, with that peculiar tremor most unpleasant to a seaman underany circumstances, told us our danger. As the last of the ballast wentoverboard she forged ahead, and then brought up. Together we wentoverboard, and sank to our waists in the black, pasty mud, through whichat intervals branches of rotten coral projected, which only served tomake the bottom more treacherous and difficult to work on. Relieved of ahalf-ton of our weight, our sloop forged ahead three or four lengths, and then brought up again. We pushed her forward some distance, but asthe water lessened, notwithstanding our efforts, she stopped. 

Looking astern, we saw the schooner coming up wing and wing, not morethan a mile distant. Certainly the prospect was blue; but one chance wasleft, to sacrifice everything in the boat. Without hesitation, overboard went the provisions except a few biscuits; the oars were madefast to the main-sheet alongside, and a breaker of water, the anchor andchain, all spare rope, indeed everything that weighed a pound, wasdropped alongside, and then, three on each side, our shoulders under theboat's bilges, at the word we lifted together, and foot by foot movedher forward. Sometimes the water would deepen a little and relieve us;again it would shoal. Between the coral-branches we would sink at timesto our necks in the slime and water, our limbs lacerated with the sharpprojecting points. Fortunately, the wind helped us; keeping all sail on, thus for more than a hundred yards we toiled, until the water deepenedand the reef was passed. Wet, foul, bleeding, with hardly strengthenough to climb into the boat, we were safe at last for a time. As wecleared the shoal, the schooner hauled by the wind, and opened fire froma nine-or twelve-pounder; but we were at long range, and the firing waswild. With a fair wind we soon opened the distance between us. 

General Breckinridge, thoroughly used up, threw himself down in thebottom of the boat; at which Tom, always on the lookout for his master'scomfort, said, "Marse John, s'pose you take a little rum and water. "This proposal stirred us all. The general rose, saying, "Yes, indeed, Tom, I will; but where is the rum?" supposing it had been sacrificedwith everything else. 

[Illustration: OVER A CORAL-REEF. ]

"I sees you pitchin' eberyt'ing away; I jes put this jug in hyar, 'ca'seI 'lowed you'd want some. "

Opening a looker in the transom, he took out the jug. Never was a potionmore grateful; we were faint and thirsty, and it acted like a charm, and, bringing up on another reef, we were ready for another tussle. Fortunately, this proved only a short lift. In the mean time theschooner had passed through the first reef by an opening, as her skipperwas undoubtedly familiar with these waters. Still another shoal wasahead; instead of again lifting our sloop over it, I hauled by the wind, and stood for what looked like an opening to the eastward. Our pursuerswere on the opposite tack and fast approaching; a reef intervened, andwhen abeam, distant about half a mile, they opened fire both with theirsmall arms and boat-gun. The second shot from the latter was welldirected; it grazed our mast and carried away the luff of the mainsail. Several Minié balls struck on our sides without penetrating; we did notreply, and kept under cover. When abreast of a break in the reef, we uphelm, and again went off before the wind. The schooner was now satisfiedthat she could not overhaul us, and stood off to the northward. 

Free from our enemy, we were now able to take stock of our supplies anddetermine what to do. Our provisions consisted of about ten pounds ofhard bread, a twenty-gallon breaker of water, two thirds full, and threegallons of rum. Really a fatality appeared to follow us as regards ourcommissariat. Beginning with our first drenching on the St. John's, every successive supply had been lost, and now what we had bought withso much trouble yesterday, the sellers compelled us to sacrifice to-day. But our first care was to ballast the sloop, for without it she was socrank as to be unseaworthy. This was not an easy task; the shore of allthe keys, as well as that of the mainland in sight, was low and swampy, and covered to the water's edge with a dense growth of mangroves. Whatmade matters worse, we were without any ground-tackle. 

At night we were up to Elliott's Key, and anchored by making fast to asweep shoved into the muddy bottom like a shad-pole. When the wind wentdown, the mosquitos came off in clouds. We wrapped ourselves in thesails from head to feet, with only our nostrils exposed. At daylight westarted again to the westward, looking for a dry spot where we mightland, get ballast, and possibly some supplies. A few palm-trees risingfrom the mangroves indicated a spot where we might find a little _terrafirma_. Going in as near as was prudent, we waded ashore, and found asmall patch of sand and coral elevated a few feet above the everlastingswamp. Some six or eight cocoa-palms rose to the height of forty orfifty feet, and under their umbrella-like tops we could see the bunchesof green fruit. It was a question how to get at it. Without saying aword, Tom went on board the boat, brought off a piece of canvas, cut astrip a yard long, tied the ends together, and made two holes for hisbig toes. The canvas, stretched between his feet, embraced the roughbark so that he rapidly ascended. He threw down the green nuts, andcutting through the thick shell, we found about half a pint of milk. Thegeneral suggested a little milk-punch. All the trees were stripped, andwhat we did not use we saved for sea-stores. 

To ballast our sloop was our next care. The jib was unbent, the sheetand head were brought together and made into a sack. This was filledwith sand, and, slung on an oar, was shouldered by two and carried onboard. 

Leaving us so engaged, the general started to try to knock over some ofthe numerous water-fowl in sight. He returned in an hour thoroughly usedup from his struggles in the swamp, but with two pelicans and a whitecrane. In the stomach of one of the first were a dozen or more mullet, from six to nine inches in length which had evidently just beenswallowed. We cleaned them, and wrapping them in palmetto-leaves, roasted them in the ashes, and they proved delicious. Tom took the birdsin hand, and as he was an old campaigner, who had cooked everything froma stalled ox to a crow, we had faith in his ability to make thempalatable. He tried to pick them, but soon abandoned it, and skinnedthem. We looked on anxiously, ready after our first course of fish forsomething more substantial. He broiled them, and with a flourish laidone before the general on a clean leaf, saying, "I's 'feared, MarseJohn, it's tough as an old muscovy drake. "

"Let me try it, Tom. "

After some exertion he cut off a mouthful, while we anxiously awaitedthe verdict. Without a word he rose and disappeared into the bushes. Returning in a few minutes, he told Tom to remove the game. His tone andexpression satisfied us that pelican would not keep us from starving. The colonel thought the crane might be better, but a taste satisfied usthat it was no improvement. 

Hungry and tired, it was nearly night before we were ready to move; and, warned by our sanguinary experience of the previous night, we determinedto haul off from the shore as far as possible, and get outside the rangeof the mosquitos. It was now necessary to determine upon our futurecourse. We had abandoned all hope of reaching the Bahamas, and thenearest foreign shore was that of Cuba, distant across the Gulf Streamfrom our present position about two hundred miles, or three or fourdays' sail, with the winds we might expect at this season. With thestrictest economy our provisions would not last so long. However, nearlya month in the swamps and among the keys of Florida, in the month ofJune, had prepared us to face almost any risk to escape from thoseshores, and it was determined to start in the morning for Cuba. Well outin the bay we hove to, and passed a fairly comfortable night; next dayearly we started for Cæsar's Canal, a passage between Elliott's Key andKey Largo. The channel was crooked and puzzling, leading through alabyrinth of mangrove islets, around which the current of the GulfStream was running like a sluice; we repeatedly got aground, when wewould jump overboard and push off. So we worked all day before we wereclear of the keys and outside among the reefs, which extend three orfour miles beyond. Waiting again for daylight, we threaded our waythrough them, and with a light breeze from the eastward steered south, thankful to feel again the pulsating motion of the ocean. 

Several sail and one steamer were in sight during the day, but all at adistance. Constant exposure had tanned us the color of mahogany, and ourlegs and feet were swollen and blistered from being so much in the saltwater, and the action of the hot sun on them made them excessivelypainful. Fortunately, but little exertion was now necessary, and ouronly relief was in lying still, with an impromptu awning over us. General Breckinridge took charge of the water and rum, doling it out atregular intervals, a tot at a time, determined to make it last as longas possible. 

Toward evening the wind was hardly strong enough to enable us to holdour own against the stream. At ten, Carysfort Light was abeam, and soonafter a dark bank of clouds rising in the eastern sky betokened a changeof wind and weather. Everything was made snug and lashed securely, withtwo reefs in the mainsail, and the bonnet taken off the jib. I knew fromexperience what we might expect from summer squalls in the straits ofFlorida. I took the helm, the general the sheet, Colonel Wilson wasstationed by the halyards, Russell and O'Toole were prepared to bail. Tom, thoroughly demoralized, was already sitting in the bottom of theboat, between the general's knees. The sky was soon completely overcastwith dark lowering clouds; the darkness, which could almost be felt, wasbroken every few minutes by lurid streaks of lightning chasing oneanother through black abysses. Fitful gusts of wind were the heralds ofthe coming blast. Great drops of rain fell like the scattering fire of askirmish-line, and with a roar like a thousand trumpets we heard theblast coming, giving us time only to lower everything and get the sternof the boat to it, for our only chance was to run with the storm untilthe rough edge was taken off, and then heave to. I cried, "All handsdown!" as the gale struck us with the force of a thunderbolt, carrying awall of white water with it which burst over us like a cataract. Ithought we were swamped as I clung desperately to the tiller, thoughthrown violently against the boom. But after the shock, our brave littleboat, though half filled, rose and shook herself like a spaniel. Themast bent like a whip-stick, and I expected to see it blown out of her, but, gathering way, we flew with the wind. The surface was lashed intofoam as white as the driven snow. The lightning and artillery of theheavens were incessant, blinding, and deafening; involuntarily we bowedour heads, utterly helpless. Soon the heavens were opened, and thefloods came down like a waterspout. I knew then that the worst of it hadpassed, and though one fierce squall succeeded another, each one wastamer. The deluge, too, helped to beat down the sea. To give an orderwas impossible, for I could not be heard; I could only, during theflashes, make signs to Russell and O'Toole to bail. Tying themselves andtheir buckets to the thwarts, they went to work and soon relieved her ofa heavy load. 

[Illustration: A ROUGH NIGHT IN THE GULF STREAM. ]

From the general direction of the wind I knew without compass or anyother guide that we were running to the westward, and, I feared, weregradually approaching the dreaded reefs, where in such a sea our boatwould have been reduced to match-wood in a little while. Therefore, without waiting for the wind or sea to moderate, I determined to heaveto, hazardous as it was to attempt anything of the kind. Giving thecolonel the helm, I lashed the end of the gaff to the boom, and thenloosed enough of the mainsail to goose-wing it, or make a leg-of-muttonsail of it. Then watching for a lull or a smooth time, I told him to putthe helm a-starboard and let her come to on the port tack, head to thesouthward, and at the same time I hoisted the sail. She came by the windquickly without shipping a drop of water, but as I was securing thehalyards the colonel gave her too much helm, bringing the wind on theother bow, the boom flew round and knocked my feet from under me, andoverboard I went. Fortunately, her way was deadened, and as I came up Iseized the sheet, and with the general's assistance scrambled on board. For twelve hours or more I did not trust the helm to any one. The stormpassed over to the westward with many a departing growl and threat. Butthe wind still blew hoarsely from the eastward with frequent gustsagainst the stream, making a heavy, sharp sea. In the trough of it theboat was becalmed, but as she rose on the crest of the waves even thelittle sail set was as much as she could stand up under, and she had tobe nursed carefully; for if she had fallen off, one breaker would haveswamped us, or any accident to sail or spar would have been fatal: butlike a gull on the waters, our brave little craft rose and breastedevery billow. 

By noon the next day the weather had moderated sufficiently to make moresail, and the sea went down at the same time. Then, hungry and thirsty, Tom was thought of. During the gale he had remained in the bottom of theboat as motionless as a log. As he was roused up, he asked:

"Marse John, whar is you, and whar is you goin'? 'Fore de Lord, I neverwant to see a boat again. "

"Come, Tom, get us something to drink, and see if there is anything leftto eat, " said the general. But Tom was helpless. 

The general served out a small ration of water and rum, every drop ofwhich was precious. Our small store of bread was found soaked, but, laidin the sun, it partly dried, and was, if not palatable, at least arelief to hungry men. 

During the next few days the weather was moderate, and we stood to thesouthward; several sail were in sight, but at a distance. We wereanxious to speak one even at some risk, for our supplies were down to apint of rum in water each day under a tropical sun, with twowater-soaked biscuits. On the afternoon of the second day a brig driftedslowly down toward us; we made signals that we wished to speak her, and, getting out our sweeps, pulled for her. As we neared her, the captainhailed and ordered us to keep off. I replied that we were shipwreckedmen, and only wanted some provisions. As we rounded to under his stern, we could see that he had all his crew of seven or eight men at quarters. He stood on the taff-rail with a revolver in hand, his two mates withmuskets, the cook with a huge tormentor, and the crew with handspikes. 

"I tell you again, keep off, or I'll let fly. "

"Captain, we won't go on board if you will give us some provisions; weare starving. "

"Keep off, I tell you. Boys, make ready. "

One of the mates drew a bead on me; our eyes met in a line over thesights on the barrel. I held up my right hand. 

"Will you fire on an unarmed man? Captain, you are no sailor, or youwould not refuse to help shipwrecked men. "

"How do I know who you are? And I've got no grub to spare. "

"Here is a passenger who is able to pay you, " said I, pointing to thegeneral. 

"Yes; I will pay for anything you let us have. "

The captain now held a consultation with his officers, and then said:"I'll give you some water and bread. I've got nothing else. But you mustnot come alongside. "

A small keg, or breaker, was thrown overboard and picked up, with a bagof fifteen or twenty pounds of hardtack. This was the reception given usby the brig _Neptune_ of Bangor. But when the time and place areconsidered, we cannot wonder at the captain's precautions, for a morepiratical-looking party than we never sailed the Spanish main. GeneralBreckinridge, bronzed the color of mahogany, unshaven, with longmustache, wearing a blue flannel shirt open at the neck, exposing hisbroad chest, with an old slouch hat, was a typical bucaneer. Thankfulfor what we had received, we parted company. Doubtless the captainreported on his arrival home a blood-curdling story of his encounterwith pirates off the coast of Cuba. 

"Marse John, I thought the war was done. Why didn't you tell dem folkswho you was?" queried Tom. The general told Tom they were Yankees, andwould not believe us. "Is dar any Yankees whar you goin'?--'ca'se if daris, we best go back to old Kentucky. " He was made easy on this point, and, with an increase in our larder, became quite perky. A change in thecolor of the water showed us that we were on soundings, and had crossedthe Stream, and soon after we came in sight of some rocky islets, whichI recognized as Double-Headed Shot Keys, thus fixing our position; forour chart, with the rest of our belongings, had disappeared, or had beendestroyed by water, and as the heavens, by day and night, were our onlyguide, our navigation was necessarily very uncertain. For the nextthirty miles our course to the southward took us over Salt Key Bank, where the soundings varied from three to five fathoms, but so clear wasthe water that it was hard to believe that the coral, the shells, andthe marine flowers were not within arm's reach. Fishes of all sizes andcolors darted by us in every direction. The bottom of the bank was aconstantly varying kaleidoscope of beauty. But to starving men, with nota mouthful in our grasp, this display of food was tantalizing. Russell, who was an expert swimmer, volunteered to dive for some conchs andshell-fish; oysters there were none. Asking us to keep a sharp lookouton the surface of the water for sharks, which generally swim with thedorsal fin exposed, he went down and brought up a couple of live conchsabout the size of a man's fist. Breaking the shell, we drew thequivering body out. Without its coat it looked like a huge grub, and notmore inviting. The general asked Tom to try it. 

"Glory, Marse John, I'm mighty hungry, nebber so hungry sense we been inde almy, and I'm just ready for ole mule, pole-cat, or anyt'ing 'ceptdis worm. "

After repeated efforts to dissect it we agreed with Tom, and found itnot more edible than a pickled football. However, Russell, diving again, brought up bivalves with a very thin shell and beautiful colors, inshape like a large pea-pod. These we found tolerable; they served tosatisfy in some small degree our craving for food. The only drawback wasthat eating them produced great thirst, which is much more difficult tobear than hunger. We found partial relief in keeping our heads andbodies wet with salt water. 

On the sixth day from the Florida coast we crossed Nicholas Channel withfair wind. Soon after we made the Cuban coast, and stood to thewestward, hoping to sight something which would determine our position. After a run of some hours just outside of the coral-reefs, we sighted inthe distance some vessels at anchor. As we approached, a large town wasvisible at the head of the bay, which proved to be Cardenas. We offeredprayful thanks for our wonderful escape, and anchored just off thecustom-house, and waited some time for the health officer to give uspratique. But as no one came off in answer to our signals, I went onshore to report at the custom-house. It was some time before I couldmake them comprehend that we were from Florida, and anxious to land. Their astonishment was great at the size of our boat, and they couldhardly believe we had crossed in it. Our arrival produced as muchsensation as would that of a liner. We might have been filibusters indisguise. The governor-general had to be telegraphed to; numerous paperswere made out and signed; a register was made out for the sloop _NoName_; then we had to make a visit to the governor before we wereallowed to go to a hotel to get something to eat. After a cup of coffeeand a light meal I had a warm bath, and donned some clean linen whichour friends provided. 

We were overwhelmed with attentions, and when the governor-generaltelegraphed that General Breckinridge was to be treated as one holdinghis position and rank, the officials became as obsequious as they hadbeen overbearing and suspicious. The next day one of thegovernor-general's aides-de-camp arrived from Havana, with aninvitation for the general and the party to visit him, which weaccepted, and after two days' rest took the train for the capital. Aspecial car was placed at our disposal, and on our arrival the generalwas received with all the honors. We were driven to the palace, had along interview, and dined with Governor-General Concha. The transitionfrom a small open boat at sea, naked and starving, to the luxuries andcomforts of civilized life was as sudden as it was welcome andthoroughly appreciated. 

At Havana our party separated. General Breckinridge and Colonel Wilsonhave since crossed the great river; Russell and O'Toole returned toFlorida. I should be glad to know what has become of faithful Tom.