Louisiana Anthology
Velazquez, Loreta Janeta.
Ed. by C. J. Worthington.
The Woman in Battle.
AUTHOR'S PREFATORY NOTICE.
If I expected by this story of my adventures to achieve
any literary reputation, I might be disposed, on account of its
many faults of style, to ask the indulgence of those who will
do me the honor to undertake its perusal. As, however,
I only attempted authorship because I had, as others assured
me, and as I myself believed, something to tell that was worth
telling, I have been more concerned about the matter than
the manner of my book, and I hope that the narrative will prove
of sufficient interest to compensate for a lack of literary elegance
in setting forth. Mine has been a life too busily
occupied in other matters for me to cultivate the graces
of authorship; and the best I can hope to do is to relate my
story with simplicity and truth, and then let it find its fate,
whether it be praise or condemnation.
The composition of this book has been a labor of love, and
yet one of no ordinary difficulties. The loss of my notes has
compelled me to rely entirely upon my memory; and memory
is apt to be very treacherous, especially when, after a number
of years, one endeavors to relate in their proper sequence a
long series of complicated transactions. Besides, I have been
compelled to write hurriedly, and in the intervals of pressing
business, the necessities I have been under of earning my daily
bread being such as could not be disregarded, even for the
purpose of winning the laurels of authorship. To speak
plainly, however, I care little for laurels of any kind just now,
and am much more anxious for the money that I hope this
book will bring in to me than I am for the praises of either
critics or public. The money I want badly, while praise, although it will
not be ungratifying, I am sufficiently philosophical to get along very
comfortably without.
I do not know what the good people who will read this
book will think of me. My career has differed materially
from that of most women; and some things that I have done
have shocked persons for whom I have every respect, however
much my ideas of propriety may differ from theirs. I can only
say, however, that in my opinion there was nothing essentially
improper in my putting on the uniform of a Confederate officer
for the purpose of taking an active part in the war; and, as
when on the field of battle, in camp, and during long and
toilsome marches, I endeavored, not without success, to display
a courage and fortitude not inferior to the most courageous of
the men around me, and as I never did aught to disgrace the
uniform I wore, but, on the contrary, won the hearty
commendation of my comrades, I feel that I have nothing to be
ashamed of. Had I believed that my book needed any apologies
on this score, it would never have been written; and,
having written it, I am willing to submit my conduct to the
judgment of the public, with a confidence that I will at least
receive due credit for the motives by which I was animated.
In the preparation of this book for the press, I have been greatly aided by the gentleman who has consented to act as my editor. Although during the war he was on the other side, he has interested himself most heartily in assisting me to get my narrative into the best shape for presentation to the public, and has shown a remarkable skill in detecting and correcting errors into which I had inadvertently fallen. I take pleasure in acknowledging my indebtedness to him.
The book, such as it is, mdash; and I have tried to make it all that such a
book should be by telling my story in as plain, straightforward, and
unpretending a style as I could command, mdash; is now, for good or ill, out
of my hands, and my adopted country people will have to decide for
themselves whether the writing of it was worth the while or not.
EDITOR'S PREFATORY NOTICE.
THE frank egotism of such a narrative as is contained in the volume
now in the hands of the reader needs no apology. Self-reliance, self-esteem,
and self-approbation, all were necessary for the
consummation of such adventures as those herein related; and, in the
opinion of the editor, a chief merit in the book is the perfect unreserve
with which its author gives to the world, not only the full particulars of
her numerous daring exploits and adventures, but the motives by
which she was influenced in undertaking them, and her impressions of
men and events. Since the author has not seen fit to do so, the editor
does not feel called upon to argue the question of propriety involved
in the appearance of a woman disguised in male attire on the battle-field;
but, with regard to some of the transactions in which Madame
Velazquez was engaged during the progress of the great civil war, a
few words of comment, explanatory rather than apologetic, seem to be
required.
Some of these transactions were of a character that, under ordinary
circumstances, would admit of no extenuation; but, in making up a
judgment concerning them, several important facts must be
constantly borne in mind. One of them is, that Madame Velazquez
was acting as the agent of the only government to which she
acknowledged allegiance, and that she considered herself as justified
in aiding that government by every means in her power, as well by
fighting its enemies in the field, as by embarrassing them by such
attacks in the rear as are related in her narrative. This plea will, of
course, be
worth nothing to those who refuse to admit that for any
purposes the Confederacy had a right to exist. It is necessary,
however, to view matters of this kind from a different standpoint from
this. The fact that the Federal Government was compelled to
recognize the Confederates as belligerents, and was
compelled to hold official intercourse with them, renders
argument on this head unnecessary. Admitting that they
were belligerents, they were justified, within certain
limitations, in doing all in their power to defeat their enemies, not only by
opposing them with armies in the field, but by demoralizing
them by insidious attacks in the rear, and by hampering their
efforts to keep their ranks full, and to provide the ways and
means for maintaining the armies at the highest state of
efficiency. Whatever view non-combatants might have taken
of the war, the men who did the fighting were obliged to consider it,
in a great measure, as a trial of skill and valor, and
practically to disregard sentimental or political considerations.
From a military point of view, therefore, what was proper and
justifiable for one side, was proper and justifiable for the
other, and will so be considered by impartial critics.
These remarks have particular reference to the portions of this
narrative which relate the experiences of Madame Velazquez as a
Confederate secret-service agent at the North during the last eighteen
or twenty months of the war. It will be noticed that she speaks with
undisguised contempt of some of her associates within the Federal
lines, mdash; associates without whose aid she could never have
accomplished the work she undertook. The unprejudiced reader will
have no difficulty in understanding that their position and hers were
vastly different. Some of these people were trusted officers of the
government, were sworn to loyalty and fidelity, and were in the
enjoyment of the full confidence of the public, as well as of their
immediate superiors. Others were men who were loud in their
protestations of loyalty, but who, while eager to be recognized as
stanch supporters of the Federal government, were, for the sake of
gain, secretly engaged in aiding
the enemy by every means in their power. These people, and the
shrewd, sharp woman who made use of them for the furtherance of the
work she undertook to perform for the purpose of aiding the
government to which she had given her allegiance in carrying on a
gigantic contest, are surely not to be judged by the same standard;
and that Madame Velazquez does not hesitate to relate the details of
her transactions as a Confederate agent and spy, proves that she, at
least, does not consider that she has done anything to be ashamed of,
and is willing that her conduct shall be freely criticised.
To many readers, the story of Madame Velazquez's experiences in
camp and on the battle-field while disguised as a Confederate officer,
will, from the peculiarities of her position, have a particular interest. In
the opinion of the editor, however, the most important part of the
book is that in which a revelation is made, now for the first time, of
the exact manner in which the Confederate secret-service system at
the North was managed. There is no feature of the civil war that more
needs to have light thrown on it than this; and, as the story which
the heroine of the adventures herein set down recites, is an
exceedingly curious one, it is deserving of the special consideration
of the public, both North and South.
The editor of this volume was in the United States naval service
from near the beginning to the end of the civil war; and as he gave his
adhesion to the Union cause from principle rather than passion, and
as he has never, either during the war or since its close, had other
than the kindest feelings towards those who took the other side,
under a sincere conviction that they were right, he not only had had no
hesitation in preparing the narrative of Madame Velazquez for the press,
but he feels that he can appreciate the motives which, from first to last,
seem to have actuated her. The Southern people made a great mistake
when they inaugurated the war; but it does not become those who
fought in the Federal ranks to doubt, at this late day, the sincerity or
honesty of purpose of the vast majority of them.
The great American civil war was an event that deserves to be
judged dispassionately; and to judge it dispassionately, it is
necessary that the people of both sections should understand each
other better than they did while the conflict was being waged, or,
indeed, than they do now. It is especially important that the people of
the North, being the victors, and being in a great measure responsible
for the present and future good government of the South, and for a
proper appreciation there of the advantages of a cordial and fraternal,
as well as a political union, should study the war from a Southern
point of view. The present volume, the editor believes, is not only a
most interesting narrative of adventure of a very exceptional kind, but
it is an important and valuable contribution to the history of the war.
Madame Velazquez, whose enthusiasm for the cause of Southern
independence induced her to discard the garments of her sex, and to
assume male attire for the purpose of appearing upon the battle-field,
is a typical Southern woman of the war period; and there are
thousands of officers and soldiers who fought in the Confederate
armies who can bear testimony, not only to the valor she displayed in
battle, and under many circumstances of difficulty and danger, but to
her integrity, her energy, her ability, and her unblemished reputation.
Upon these points, however, it is not necessary to dilate; her story
will speak for itself, and that it is a true story in every particular, there
are abundant witnesses whose testimony will not be disputed.
As Madame Velazquez is a typical Southern woman of the war
period, so her story furnishes a curious inside view of the
Confederacy, and it throws much light on a great number of obscure
points in its history. For this reason, if no other, it will deserve the
attention of Northern readers, who will find many things stated in it
which it is well for them to know. No commendation of any kind is
needed to command for it the consideration of the people of the
South. From the breaking out of the war to its close, the Confederate
cause had no more
enthusiastic or zealous supporter than the woman who was known as
Lieutenant Harry T. Buford. According to her opportunities, she
labored with unsurpassed zeal and efficiency, and with a
disinterestedness that cannot but be admired.
With regard to the part performed by the editor in preparing this
work for the press, it may be proper to say a few words. The
manuscript, when it was placed in his hands, was found to be very
minute and particular in some places, and rather meagre in others,
where particularity seemed desirable. Having undertaken to get this
material into proper shape, correspondence was opened with
Madame Velazquez, and a number of interviews with her were had. A
general plan having been agreed upon, it was left entirely to the
judgment of the editor what to omit or what to insert, Madame
Velazquez agreeing to supply such information as was needed to make
the story complete, in a style suitable for publication. From her
correspondence, and from notes of her conversations, a variety of very
interesting details, not in the original manuscript, were obtained and
incorporated in the narrative. The editor, also, in several places has
corrected palpable errors of time and place, and has added a few facts
not supplied by the author. These corrections and additions have been
made after consultation with the author, and with her entire
approbation. In preparing her manuscript, Madame Velazquez seems to
have endeavored to narrate the incidents of her career in the fullest
manner possible; and it consequently contains a large amount of
matter which can be of but very little, if any, interest to the general
public. It has been necessary, therefore, while expanding in some
places, to make large excisions in others; but the story is such an
extraordinary one, in many of its aspects, that it has been judged
better to give it in too great fulness, rather than to omit what the
purchasers of the book would have a right to find in it. The excisions
have, therefore, been carefully made, and it is believed that nothing
has been omitted that is of value or importance. A few expressions that
might needlessly give
offence, have either been stricken out or altered, while some,
which persons of severe taste may object to, have been permitted
to remain as they were originally written, they being in some
way characteristic of the writer, or of the circumstances under
which she was placed. While Madame Velazquez does not
pretend to any literary accomplishments, her style has a certain
flavor which is far from unpleasant; and the editor has been
careful, in making such changes and alterations as have seemed
necessary, to retain the author's own words wherever practicable.
Owing to the loss of her diary, Madame Velazquez was
compelled to write her narrative entirely from memory, which will account
for the errors to which allusion has been made. Indeed, considering
the multiplicity of events, it is very remarkable that she has been able
to relate her story with any degree of accuracy. It is possible that,
despite the pains that have been taken to make the narrative exact in
every particular with regard to its facts, a few errors may have been
permitted to remain uncorrected. These errors, however, are not
material, and do not in any way impair the interest of the story.
Madame Velazquez is a very remarkable woman, and some account
of her personal appearance, other than can be obtained from the
portraits of her which are given in this book, will doubtless be
appreciated by the reader. She is rather slender, something above
medium height, has more than the average of good looks, is
quick and energetic in her movements, and is very vivacious in
conversation. Her frame is firmly knit, and she is evidently endowed
with great powers of physical endurance. Those who have seen her
in male attire say that her skill in disguising herself was very great, and
that she readily passed for a man. At the same time she is anything
but masculine, either in appearance, manners, or address. She is a
shrewd, enterprising, and energetic business woman, and in society is
a brilliant and most entertaining conversationalist, abounding in a fund of racy
anecdotes, and endowed with a mimetic power that enables her to relate her
anecdotes in the most telling manner. In New York, Philadelphia, and
other Northern cities, as well as throughout the South and West, she
has a large number of very warm friends, who hold her in the highest
esteem on account of her eminent talents, her fascinating social
qualities, and her unblemished reputation. It is to be hoped that the
publication of the story of her checkered career will have the effect of
increasing, rather than of diminishing, the number of these friends.
Her story is a most remarkable one, in nearly every respect. During the
war a number of women, on both sides, from time to time, performed
spy duty, and several of them are said to have occasionally assumed
male attire. Madame Velazquez, however, it is believed, is the only one
of her sex, who, for any length of time, wore a masculine garb, or who
participated as a combatant in a series of hard-fought battles.
Narratives of the adventures of several heroines on the Federal side
have been published, but none of them will at all compare in extent and
variety of interest with the volume now before the reader, which has an
additional claim on the regards of the public as being the only
authentic account of the career of a Confederate heroine that has
issued from the press.
CONTENTS.
- CHAPTER I.
CHILDHOOD.
The Woman in Battle. — Heroines of History. — Joan of Arc. — A Desire to
emulate Her. — The Opportunity that was Offered. — Breaking out of the War
between the North and the South. — Determination to take Part in the Contest.
— A noble Ancestry. — The Velazquez Family. My Birth at Havana. — Removal
of my Family to Mexico. — The War between the United States and Mexico. —
Loss of my Father's Estates. — Return of the Family to Cuba. — My early
Education. — At School in New Orleans. — Castles in the Air. — Romantic
Aspirations. — Trying to be a Man. — Midnight Promenades before the Mirror in Male Attire. . . . . 33
-
CHAPTER II.
MARRIAGE.
My Betrothal. — Love Matches and Marriages of Convenience. — Some new
Ideas
picked up from my Schoolmates. — A new Lover appears upon the Field — I
Figure as a Rival to a Friend. — Love's Young Dream. — A new Way of
Popping
the Question. — A Clandestine Marriage. — Displeasure of my Family. — Life
as the Wife of an Army Officer. — The Mormon Expedition. — Birth of my
first
Child, and Reconciliation with my Family. — Commencement of the War
between the North and South. — Death of my Children. — Resignation of my
Husband from the Army. — My Determination to take Part in the coming
Conflict as a Soldier. — Opposition of my Husband to my Schemes. . . . . 43
-
CHAPTER III.
ASSUMING MALE ATTIRE.
A Wedding Anniversary. — Preparing for my Husband's Departure for the
Seat of War. — My Desire to accompany Him. — His Arguments to dissuade
Me. — My First Appearance in Public in Male Attire. — A Barroom
Scene. — Drinking Success to the Confederacy. — My First Cigar.
— A Tour of the Gambling-Houses and Drinking-Saloons. — The
unpleasant Points of Camp Life set forth in strong Colors. — Departure of
my Husband. — Donning Male Attire. — My First Suit of Male Clothing.
— Description of my Disguise. — The Practicability of a Woman
disguising herself effectively. — Some of the Features of Army Life. —
What Men think of Women Soldiers . . . . .52
-
CHAPTER IV.
DISGUISED AS A CONFEDERATE OFFICER.
Preparing a Military Outfit. — Consultations with a Friend. — Argument
against my proposed Plan of Action — Assuming the Uniform of a
Confederate
Officer. — A Scene in a Barber's Shop. — How young Men try to make their
Beards Grow. — Taking a social Drink. — A Game of Billiards. — In a Faro
Bank. — Some War Talk. — Drinks all Around. — The End of an exciting
Day. — Making up a Complexion. — A false Mustache. — Final
Preparations. — Letters from Husband and Father. — Ready to start for the
Seat of War. . . . . 61
-
CHAPTER V.
RECRUITING.
My Plan of Action. — On the War Path. — In Search of Recruits in
Arkansas. — The Giles Homestead. — Sensation caused by a Soldier's
Uniform. — A prospective Recruit. — Bashful Maidens. — A nice little
Flirtation. — Learning how to be agreeable to the Ladies. — A Lesson in
Masculine Manners. — A terrible Situation. — Causeless Alarm. — The young
Lady becoming Sociable. — A few Matrimonial Hints. — The successful
Commencement of a Soldier's Career. — Anticipations of future
Glory. — Dreamless Slumbers. . . . . 70
-
CHAPTER VI.
-
A WIDOW.
-
Flirtation and Recruiting. — My brilliant Success in enlisting a
Company. —
Embarkation for New Orleans. — Letter from My Husband. — Change of
Plans. —
Cheered while passing through Mobile. — Arrival at
Pensacola. — Astonishment
of My Husband. — Sudden Death of my Husband by the Bursting of a
Carbine. —
Determination to go to the Front. — A fascinating Widow. — A Lesson in
Courtship. — Starting for the Seat of War. — Unpleasant Companions. — A bit
of Flirtation with a Columbia Belle. — In Charge of a Party of Ladies
and Children at Lynchburg. — Arrival in Richmond. — Another Lady in Love
with me. — The Major wants to make a Night of it. — A quiet Game of
Cards. — Off for the Battle-field. . . . . 82
-
CHAPTER VII.
-
THE BATTLE OF BULL RUN.
-
Joining the Army in the Field. — Trying to get a Commission. — The
Skirmish at Blackburn's Ford. — Burying the Dead. — I attach myself to
General Bee's Command. — The Night before the Battle of Bull Run. —
A sound Sleep. — The Morning of the Battle. — A magnificent Scene. —
The Approach of the Enemy. — Commencement of the Fight. — An Exchange of
Compliments between old Friends. — Bee's Order to fall back, and his
Rally. — "Stonewall" Jackson. — The Battle at its Fiercest. — The Scene at
Midday. — Huge Clouds of Dust and Smoke. — Some
tough Fighting. — How Beauregard and Johnston rallied their Men. — The
Contest for the Possession of the Plateau. — Bee and Bartow
Killed. — Arrival of Kirby Smith with Re-enforcements. — The Victory
Won. — Application for Promotion. — Return to Richmond. . . . . 95
-
CHAPTER VIII.
-
AFTER THE BATTLE.
-
Erroneous Ideas about the War. — Some of the Effects of the Battle of
Bull
Run. — The Victory not in all Respects a Benefit to the Cause of the
Confederacy. — Undue Elation of Soldiers and Civilians. — Richmond
Demoralized. — A Quarrel with a drunken Officer. — An Insult Resented. — I
leave Richmond. — Prospect of another Battle. — Cutting a Dash in
Leesburg. — A little Love Affair. — Stern Parents. — A clandestine
Meeting. — Love's young Dream. — Disappointed Affections. — In front of the
Enemy once More. — A Battle expected to come off. . . . . 107
-
CHAPTER IX.
-
THE BATTLE OF BALL'S BLUFF.
-
An Appetite for Fighting. — The Sensations of the Battle-field. — My
second
Battle. — The Conflict at Ball's Bluff. — My Arrival at General Evans's
Headquarters. — Meeting an old Acquaintance. — Hospitalities of the
Camp. —
The Morning of the Battle. — Commencement of the Fight. — A fierce
Struggle. — In Charge of a Company. — A suspicious Story. — Bob figures as a
Combatant. — Rout of the Enemy. — The Federals driven over the Bluff into
the River. — I capture some Prisoners. — A heart-rending
Spectacle. — Escape of Colonel Devens, of the Fifteenth Massachusetts
Regiment, by swimming
across the River. — Sinking of the Boats with the wounded Federals in
Them. —
Night, and the End of the Battle. . . . . 115
-
CHAPTER X.
FIRST EXPERIENCES AS A SPY.
Reaction after the Excitements of a Battle. — The Necessity for mental
and
bodily Occupation. — I form a new Project. — War as we imagine it, and as
it
Is. — Fighting not the only Thing to be Done. — The Dreams of Youth, and
the Realities of Experience. — The Secret of Success. — The Difficulties
which the Confederate Commanders experienced in obtaining Information of
the
Movements of the Enemy. — What a Woman can do that a Man Cannot. — A
Visit to Mrs. Tyree. — The only Way of keeping a Secret. — I assume the
Garments of my own Sex again as a Disguise. — Getting across the Potomac
at
Night. — Asleep in a Wheat-Stack. — A suspicious Farmer. — A Friend in
Need. — Maryland Hospitality. — Off for Washington. . . . . 126
-
CHAPTER XI.
IN WASHINGTON.
Inside the Enemy's Lines. — Arrival at the Federal Capital. — Renewing an
Acquaintance with an old Friend. — What I found out by a judicious
System of Questioning. — The Federal Plans with regard to the
Mississippi. —
An Attack on New Orleans Surmised. — A Tour around Washington. — Visit to
the War Department, and Interview with Secretary Cameron and General
Wessells. — An Introduction to the President. — Impressions of Mr.
Lincoln. — I succeed in finding out a Thing or two at the
Post-Office. — Sudden Departure from Washington. — Return to
Leesburg. — Departure for Columbus, Kentucky. . . . . 136
-
CHAPTER XII.
ACTING AS MILITARY CONDUCTOR.
At Memphis Again. — Ending my first Campaign. — My Friend the
Captain and I
exchange Notes. — I reach Columbus, and report to General Leonidas
Polk. — Assigned to Duty as Military Conductor. — Unavailing
Blandishments of the
Women. — A mean Piece of Malice. — General Lucius M. Polk tries
to play a
Trick on Me. — The Path of Duty. — The General put under
Arrest. — An
Explanation concerning a one-sided Joke. — I become dissatisfied, and
tender
my Resignation. — A Request to Return to Virginia and enter the Secret
Service. — Acceptance of my Resignation. — The Lull before the
Storm. . . . . 145
-
CHAPTER XIII.
A MERRY-MAKING.
In Search of active Employment. — On the Road to Bowling Green,
Kentucky. —
My travelling Companions. — A Halt at Paris. — A hog-killing and
corn-shucking Frolic. — Dancing all Night in the School-house. — A
Quilting-Party. — My particular Attentions to a Lady. — The other Girls
Unhappy. — The Reward of Gallantry. — What General Hardee had to say to
Me. — The Woodsonville Fight. — On the back Track for Fort Donelson. . . .
. 154
-
CHAPTER XIV.
THE FALL OF FORT DONELSON.
The Spirit of Partisanship. — My Opinions with regard to the
Invincibility of the Southern Soldiers. — Unprepared to sustain the
Humiliation of Defeat. — The Beginning of the End. — At Fort
Donelson. — The Federal Attack Expected. — Preparations for the
Defence. — The Garrison confident of their Ability to
hold the Fort. — The Difference between Summer and Winter Campaigning. —
Enthusiasm supplanted by Hope and Determination. — My Boy Bob and I go
to Work in the Trenches. — Too much of a Good Thing. — Dirt-digging not
exactly in my Line. — The Federals make their Appearance. — The Opening of
the Battle. — On Picket Duty in the Trenches at Night. — Storm of Snow and
Sleet. — The bitter Cold. — Cries and Groans of the Wounded — My Clothing
stiff with Ice. — I find Myself giving Way, but manage to endure until
the
Relief Comes. — Terrible Suffering. — Singular Ideas. — A Four Days'
Battle. — The Confederate Successes on the first and second Days. — The
Gunboats driven Off. — Desperate Fighting on the third Day. — A breathing
Spell. — The Confederates finally driven back into the Fort. — It is
resolved to Surrender. — Generals Floyd and Pillow make their
Escape. — General Buckner surrenders to General Grant. — Terrible Scenes
after the Battle is Over. — The Ground strewn for Miles with Dead and
Dying. — Wounded Men crushed by the Artillery Wagons. — The Houses of
the Town of Dover filled with Wounded. — My Depression of Spirits on
Account of the Terrible Scenes I had Witnessed. . . . . 161
-
CHAPTER XV.
DETECTION AND ARREST IN NEW ORLEANS.
Taking a Rest at Nashville. — Again on the March. — I join General A. S.
Johnston's Army. — Wounded in a Skirmish. — Am afraid of having my Sex
discovered, and leave suddenly for New Orleans. — In New Orleans I am
suspected of being a Spy, and am Arrested. — The Officer who makes the
Arrest in Doubt. — The Provost Marshal orders my Release. — I am again
arrested by the Civil Authorities on suspicion of being a Woman. — No Way
out of the Scrape but to reveal my Identity. — Private Interview with Mayor
Monroe. — The Mayor Fines and Imprisons Me. — I enlist as a Private
Soldier. — On arriving at Fort Pillow, obtain a Transfer to the Army of East
Tennessee. . . . . 174
-
CHAPTER XVI.
AN UNFORTUNATE LOVE AFFAIR.
Again at Memphis. — Public and private Difficulties. — Future Prospects.
— Arrival of my Negro Boy and Baggage from Grand Junction. — A new
uniform Suit. — Prepared once more to face the World. — I fall in with an
old Friend. — An Exchange of Compliments. — Late Hours. — Some of the
Effects of Late Hours. — Confidential Communications. — The Course of true
Love runs not Smooth. — I renew my Acquaintance with General Lucius M.
Polk. — The General disposed to be Friendly. — My Friend and I call on his
Lady-love and her Sister. — Surprising Behavior of the young Lady. —
A genuine Love-letter. — A Secret Disclosed. — Incidents of a
Buggy Ride. — A Declaration of Love. — Lieutenant H. T. Buford as
a
Lady-killer. — Why should Women not pop the Question as well as Men? — A
melancholy Disclosure for my Friend. — I endeavor to encourage Him. — A
Visit to the Theatre and an enjoyable Evening. — I meet a Friend from New
Orleans, and endeavor to
remove any Suspicions with regard to my Identity from his
Mind. — Progress
of my Love-affair with Miss M. — The young Lady and I have our Pictures
Taken. — I proceed to Corinth for the Purpose of taking Part in the
expected
Battle. — The Confederate Army advances from Corinth towards Pittsburg
Landing. . . . . 183
-
CHAPTER XVII.
THE BATTLE OF SHILOH.
A Surprise upon the Federal Army at Pittsburg Landing Arranged. — A brilliant
Victory Expected. — I start for the Front, and encamp for the Night at
Monterey. — My Slumbers disturbed by a Rain-storm. — I find General Hardee
near Shiloh Church, and ask Permission to take a Hand in the Fight. — The
Opening of the Battle. — Complete Surprise of the
Federals. — I see my Arkansas Company, and join It. — A Lieutenant being
killed, I take his Place, amid a hearty Cheer from the Men. — A Secret
Revealed. — I fight through the Battle under the Command of my
Lover. — Furious Assaults on the Enemy's Lines. — The Bullets fly Thick and
Fast. — General Albert Sydney Johnston Killed. — End of the First Day's
Battle, and Victory for the Confederates. — Beauregard's Error in not pursuing
his Advantage. — I slip through the Lines after Dark, and watch what is going
on at Pittsburg Landing. — The Gunboats open Fire. — Unpleasant Effect of
Shells from big Guns. — Utter Demoralization of the Federals. — Arrival of
Buell with Re-enforcements. — General Grant and another general Officer pass
near Me in a Boat, and I am tempted to take a Shot at Them. — I return to
Camp, and wish to report what I had seen to General Beauregard, but am dissuaded
from doing so by my Captain. — Uneasy Slumbers. — Commencement of the Second
Day's Fight. — The Confederates unable to contend with the Odds against
Them. — A lost Opportunity. — The Confederates defeated, and compelled to
retire from the Field. — I remain in the Woods near the Battle-field all
Night. . . . . 200
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CHAPTER XVIII.
WOUNDED.
The Morning after the Battle of Shiloh. — My Return to Camp. — A Letter from
my Memphis Lady-love. — A sad Case. — My Boy Bob Missing. — I start out to
search for Him. — A runaway Horse, and a long Tramp through the Mud. —
Return to the Battle-field. — Horrible Scenes along the Road. — Out on a
Scouting Expedition. — Burying the Dead. — I receive a severe Wound. — A
long and painful Ride back to Camp. — My Wound dressed by a Surgeon, and my
Sex discovered. — A Fugitive. — Arrival at Grand Junction. — Crowd of
anxious Inquirers. — Off for New Orleans. — Stoppages at Grenada, Jackson,
and Osyka on Account of my Wound. — The Kindness of Friends. — Fresh Attempt
to reach New Orleans. — Unsatisfactory Appearance of the Military Situation.
— The Passage of the Forts by the Federal Fleet. — A new Field of
Employment opened for Me. — I resume the Garments of my Sex. . . . . 219
-
CHAPTER XIX.
THE CAPTURE OF NEW ORLEANS, AND BUTLER'S ADMINISTRATION.
Capture of Island No. 10. — The impending Attack on New Orleans. — The
unsatisfactory Military Situation. — Confidence of Everybody in the River
Defences. — My Apprehensions of Defeat. — The Fall of New
Orleans. — Excitement in the City on the News of the Passage of the Forts
being Received. — I resolve to abandon the Career of a Soldier, and to resume
the Garments of my own Sex. — Appearance of the Fleet opposite the
City. — Immense Destruction of Property. — My Congratulations to Captain
Bailey of the Navy. — Mayor Monroe's Refusal to raise the Federal
Flag. — General Butler assumes Command of the City. — Butler's Brutality. —
I procure the foreign Papers of an English Lady, and strike up an Acquaintance
with the Provost Marshal. — Am introduced to other Officers, and through
them gain Access to Headquarters. — Colonel Butler furnishes me with the
necessary Passes to get through
the Lines. — I drive an active Trade in Drugs and Confederate Money while
carrying Information to and Fro. — Preparations for a grand final Speculation
in Confederate Money. — I am intrusted with a Despatch for the "Alabama," and
am started for Havana. . . . . 232
-
CHAPTER XX.
A VISIT TO HAVANA.
A Trip to Havana. — My Purposes in making the Journey. — The Results of a
Year of Warfare. — Gloomy Prospects. — A Gleam of Hope in Virginia. — The
Delights of a Voyage on the Gulf of Mexico. — The Island of Cuba in
Sight. — The Approach to Havana. — I communicate with the Confederate
Agents and deliver my Despatches. — An Interchange of valuable
Information. — The Business of Blockade-running and its enormous
Profits. — The Injury to the Business caused by the Capture of New
Orleans. — My Return to New Orleans and Preparation for future Adventures. . .
. . 244
-
CHAPTER XXI.
A DIFFICULTY WITH BUTLER. — ESCAPE FROM NEW ORLEANS.
Butler's Rule in New Orleans. — A System of Terrorism. — My Acquaintance
with Federal Officers. — I resume the Business of carrying Information
through the Lines. — A Trip to Robertson's Plantation for the Purpose of
carrying a Confederate Despatch. — A long Tramp after Night. — Some of the
Incidents of My Journey. — The Alligators and Mosquitoes. — Arrival at my
Destination, and Delivery of the Despatch to a Confederate Officer. — My
hospitable Entertainment by Friends of the Confederacy. — My Return to
New Orleans. — Capture of the Bearer of my Despatch, and my Arrest. — I am
taken before Butler, who endeavors to extort a Confession from Me. — Butler
as a Bully. — I refuse to confess, and am ordered to be imprisoned in
the
Custom-House. — My Release, through the Intercession of the British
Consul. — I resolve to leave New Orleans, for fear of getting into further
Trouble. — A Bargain with a Fisherman to take me across Lake Pontchartrain. —
My Escape from Butler's Jurisdiction. . . . . 253
-
CHAPTER XXII.
CARRYING DESPATCHES.
Uncertainties of the Military Situation. — I go to Jackson,
Mississippi. —
Burning of the Bowman House in that Place by Breckenridge's Soldiers.
— The unpleasant Position in which Non-combatants were Placed. — A Visit
to the Camp of General Dan. Adams, and Interview with that Officer. — I
visit Hazlehurst, and carry a Message to General Gardner at Port
Hudson. — Recovery of my Negro Boy Bob. — General Van Dorn's Raid on
Holly Springs. — I resolve to return to Virginia. — The Results of two
Years of Warfare. — Dark Days for the Confederacy. — Fighting against
Hope. . . . . 268
-
CHAPTER XXIII.
UNDER ARREST AGAIN.
Commencement of a new Campaign. — Return to Richmond, and Arrest on
Suspicion of being a Woman. — Imprisonment in Castle Thunder. — Kindness
to Me of
Major J. W. Alexander and his Wife. — I refuse to resume the
Garments of
my Sex. — I am released, and placed on Duty in the Secret Service
Corps. — General Winder, the Chief of the Secret Service
Bureau. — A
remarkable Character. — General Winder sends me with blank Despatches to
General Van Dorn to try Me. — A Member of the North Carolina Home Guards
attempts to arrest Me at Charlotte. — I resist the Arrest, and am
permitted to
Proceed. — The Despatches delivered to Van Dorn in Safety. — My Arrest in
Lynchburg. — The Rumors that were in Circulation about Me. — I am pestered
with curious Visitors. — A Couple of Ladies deceived by a simple Trick. —
A comical Interview with an old Lady. — She declares herself insulted. —
An insulting Letter from a general Officer. — My indignant Reply, and
Offer
to fight Him. — I obtain my Release, and leave Lynchburg. . . . . 276
-
CHAPTER XXIV.
RUNNING THROUGH THE FEDERAL LINES.
At Charlotte, North Carolina. — Arrival of Longstreet's Corps, on its
Way to re-enforce Bragg's Army. — I obtain Permission for Myself and
other Officers to go on the Train Southward. — I arrive in Atlanta,
Georgia, and receive Letters from several Members of my Family. — I
learn for the first Time that my Brother is in the Confederate Army. —
I receive Information of the Officer to whom I am engaged to be
married, and whom I have not seen since the Battle of Shiloh. — I make an
Attempt to reach Him, but am unable to do so. — Failing in an Endeavor
to become attached to General Armstrong's Command, I determine
to undertake an Expedition through the Lines. — Finding a Supply
of female Garments in a deserted Farm-house, I attire Myself as a
Woman. — My Uniform hid in an Ash-barrel. — An Invasion of the
Dairy. — I start for the Federal Lines. . . . . 288
-
CHAPTER XXV.
THE MILITARY SECRET SERVICE. — RETURN FROM A SPYING EXPEDITION.
The Duties of Spies. — The Necessity for their Employment. — The Status of
Spies, and the extraordinary Perils they Run. — Some Remarks about the
Secret Service, and the Necessity for its Improvement. — I reach the Federal
Lines, and obtain a Pass to go North from General Rosecrans. — On my
Travels in search of Information. — Arrival at Martinsburg, and am put in the
Room of a Federal Officer. — A Disturbance in the Night. — "Who is that
Woman?" — I make an advantageous Acquaintance. — A polite
Quartermaster. — All about a pretended dead Brother. — How Secret Service
Agents go about their Work. — A Visit to my pretended Brother's Grave, and
what I gained by It. — I succeed in giving one of Mosby's Pickets an important
Bit of Information. — The polite Attention of Federal Officers. — I return to Chatanooga, and
resume my Confederate Uniform. — A perilous Attempt to reach the
Confederate Lines. — What a Drink of Whiskey can do. — I become lame in
my wounded Foot, and am sent to Atlanta for medical Treatment. . . . . 298
-
CHAPTER XXVI.
IN THE HOSPITAL.
The Kind of People an Army is made up Of. — Gentlemen and
Blackguards. — The Demoralization of Warfare. — How I managed to keep out
of Difficulties. — The Value of a fighting Reputation. — A Quarrel with a
drunken General. — I threaten to shoot Him. — My Illness, and the kind
Attentions received from Friends. — I am admitted to the Empire
Hospital. — The Irksomeness of a Sick-bed. — I learn that my Lover is in the
same Hospital, and resolve to see him as soon as I am Convalescent. . . . . 310
-
CHAPTER XXVII.
A STRANGE STORY OF TRUE LOVE.
Sick-bed Fancies. — Reflections on my military Career. — I almost resolve to
abandon the Garb of a Soldier. — Difficulties in the Way of achieving
Greatness. — Warfare as a laborious Business. — The Favors of Fortune
sparingly Bestowed. — Prospective Meeting with my Lover. — Anxiety to
know what he would think of the Course I had been pursuing in figuring in the
Army as a Man. — A strange Courtship. — More like a Chapter of Romance
than a grave Reality. — My Recollections of an old Spanish Story, read in my
Childhood, that in some Respects reminds me of my own Experiences[.] — The
Story
of Estela. — How the Desires of a Pair of Lovers were opposed by stern
Parents. — An Elopement Planned. — The Abduction of Estela through the
Instrumentality of a Rival. — She is carried off by Moorish Pirates, and
sold as a Slave. — Her Escape from Slavery, and how she entered the Army
of the
Emperor disguised as a Man. — Estela saves the Emperor's Life, and is
promoted to a high Office[.] — Her Meeting with her Lover, and her Endeavors
to make him confess his Faith in her Honor. — The Appointment of Estela as
Governor of her native City. — The Trial of her Lover on the Charge of
having murdered her. — Happy Ending of the Story. — I am inspired, by my
Recollections of the Story of Estela, to hear from the Lips of my Lover his
Opinion of me before I reveal myself to him. — Impatient Waiting for the
Hour of Meeting. . . . . 317
-
CHAPTER XXVIII.
AGAIN A WIFE AND AGAIN A WIDOW.
Convalescence. — I pay a Visit to my Lover. — A Friendly Feeling. — A
Surprise in Store for him. — I ask him about his Matrimonial Prospects, and
endeavor to ascertain the State of his Affections towards me. — An affecting
Scene. — The Captain receives a Letter from his Lady-love. — "She has come!
She has come!" — The Captain prepares for a Meeting with his Sweetheart. —
A Question of Likeness. — A puzzling Situation. —
I reveal my Identity. — Astonishment and Joy of my Lover.
— Preparations for our Wedding. — A very quiet Affair Proposed. — The
Wedding. — A short Honeymoon. — Departure of my Husband for the
Front. — My Apprehensions for his Health. — My Apprehensions justified in
the News of his Death in a Federal Hospital in Chatanooga. — Once more a
Widow. . . . . 326
-
CHAPTER XXIX.
IN THE CONFEDERATE SECRET SERVICE.
Altered Circumstances. — The Result of two Years and a half Experience in
Warfare. — The Difference between the Emotions of a raw Recruit and a
Veteran. — Difficulties in the Way of deciding what Course it was best to
pursue for the Future. — I resolve to go to Richmond in Search of active
Employment of some Kind. — The Military Situation in the Autumn of
1863. — Concentration of the Armies at Richmond and Chatanooga. —
Richmond safe from Capture. — The Results of the Battle of
Chickamauga. — Rosecrans penned up in Chatanooga by Bragg. — The Pinch of
the Fight Approaching. — Hopes of foreign Intervention. — An apparently
encouraging Condition of Affairs. — I go to Richmond, and have Interviews
with President Davis and General Winder. — I am furnished by the Latter with a
Letter of Recommendation, and start on a grand Tour through the
Confederacy. — Arrival at Mobile, and Meeting with old Army Friends. . . . . 339
-
CHAPTER XXX.
ON DUTY AS A SPY.
I receive a mysterious Note, requesting me to meet the Writer. — I go to the
appointed Place, and find an Officer of the Secret Service Corps, who wants
me to go through the Lines with Despatches. — I accept the
Commission, and the next Day go to Meridian for the Purpose of completing
my Arrangement and receiving my Instructions. — A Visit to General Ferguson's
Headquarters. — Final Instructions from the General, who presents me with a
Pistol. — I start for the Federal Lines, and ride all Night and
all the next Day. — A rough and toilsome Journey. — I spend the Night in a
Negro's Cabin. — Off again at three o'clock in the Morning with an old Negro
Man for a Guide. — We reach the Neighborhood of the Federal Pickets, and I
send my Guide back. — I bury my Pistol in a Church. — I am halted by a
Picket-guard, and am taken to Moscow. — A Cross-examination by the Colonel in
Command. — Satisfactory Result for Myself. — On the Train for
Memphis. — Insulting Remarks from the Soldiers. — A Major interferes for my
Protection. — Off for General Washburn's Headquarters. . . . . 348
-
CHAPTER XXXI.
SENDING INFORMATION TO THE CONFEDERATES FROM MEMPHIS.
My Friend, the Lieutenant, concludes that he will make himself better
acquainted with me. — Indiscreet Confidences. — Some of the Traits of
Human Nature. — The Kind of Secrets Women can Keep. — Women better
than Men for certain Kinds of Secret Service Duty. — The Lieutenant wants to
know all about me. — I suspect that he has Matrimonial Inclinations. — He is
anxious to discover whether I have any wealthy Relations. — I am induced to
think that I can make him useful in obtaining Information with regard to the
Federal Movements. — The Lieutenant expresses his Opinion about the
War. — Arrival at Memphis. — Visit to the Provost Marshal's Office. —
General Washburn too ill to see me. — I enclose him the bogus Despatch I have
for him, with an explanatory Note. — The Lieutenant escorts me to the
Hardwick House, and I request him to call in the Morning. — Procuring a Change
of Dress through One of the Servants, I slip out, and have an Interview with my
Confederate, and give him the Despatch for General Forrest.
— On returning to the Hotel, I meet the Lieutenant on the Street, but manage
to pass him without being observed. — Satisfactory Accomplishment of my
Errand. . . . . 362
-
CHAPTER XXXII.
FORREST'S GREAT RAID. — GOING NORTH ON A MISSION OF MERCY.
A Friend in Need is a Friend Indeed. — The Lieutenant aids me in procuring a
new Wardrobe. — I succeed in finding out all I want to know about the
Number and the Disposition of the Federal Troops on the Line of the
Memphis and Charleston Railroad. — A Movement made in accordance with
the bogus Despatch which I had brought to General Washburn. — Forrest makes
his Raid, and I pretend to be alarmed lest the Rebels should capture me. — The
Lieutenant continues his Attentions, and Something occurs to induce me to
change my Plans. — I have an Interview with an Officer of my Brother's
Command, and learn that he is a Prisoner. — I resolve to go to him, and leave
North on a Pass furnished by General Washburn. — At Louisville I have
an Interview with a mysterious secret Agent of the Confederacy, who supplies
me with Funds. — On reaching Columbus, Ohio, I obtain a Permit to see my
Brother. — Through the Agency of Governor Brough my Brother is released,
and we go East together, — he to New York, I to Washington. . . . . 373
-
CHAPTER XXXIII.
SECRET SERVICE DUTY AT THE NORTH.
New Scenes and new Associations. — My first Visit to the North. — The Wealth
and Prosperity of the North contrasted with the Poverty and Desolation of
the South. — Much of the northern Prosperity fictitious. — The anti-war
Party and its Strength. — How some of the People of the
North made Money during the War. — "Loyal" Blockade-runners and
Smugglers. — Confederate Spies and Emissaries in the Government
Offices. — The Opposition to the Draft. — The bounty-jumping Frauds. — My
Connection with them. — Operations of the Confederate Secret Service
Agents. — Other Ways of fighting the Enemy than by Battles in the Field. — I
arrange a Plan of Operations, and place myself in communication with the
Confederate Authorities at Richmond, and also with Federal Officials at
Washington and Elsewhere. — I abandon Fighting for Strategy. . . . . 383
-
CHAPTER XXXIV.
PLAYING A DOUBLE GAME.
Studying the Situation. — I renew my Acquaintance with old Friends of
The Federal Army. — Half-formed Plans. — I obtain an Introduction to
Colonel Lafayette C. Baker, Chief of the United States Secret Service
Corps. — Colonel Baker and General Winder of the Confederate Secret
Service compared. — Baker a good Detective Officer, but far inferior to
Winder as the Head of a Secret Service Department. — I solicit Employment
from Baker as a Detective, and am indorsed by my Friend General
A. — Baker gives a rather indefinite Answer to my Application. — I go
to New York, and fall in with Confederate Secret Service Agents, who
employ me to assist them in various Schemes. — Learning the Ropes. —
I send Intelligence of my Movements to Richmond, and am enrolled as
a Confederate Agent. — I have several Interviews with Baker, and succeed
in gaining his Confidence. — Baker's Surprise and Disgust at various
Times at his Plans leaking Out. — The Secret of the Leakage Revealed. . .
. . 392
-
CHAPTER XXXV.
VISIT TO RICHMOND AND CANADA.
An Attack on the Rear of the Enemy in Contemplation. — The Difficulties
in the Way of its Execution. — What it was expected to Accomplish. —
The Federals to be placed between two Fires. — I have an Interview
with Colonel Baker, and propose a Trip to Richmond. — He assents,
and furnishes me with Passes and Means to make the Journey. — I run
through the Lines, and reach Richmond in Safety. — I return by a
roundabout Route, laden with Despatches, Letters, Commercial Orders,
Money Drafts, and other valuable Documents. — I am delayed in
Baltimore,
and fall short of Money. — The Difficulties I had in getting my
Purse filled. — Sickness. — I visit Lewes, Delaware, and deliver
Instructions to a Blockade-runner. — On reaching New York I learn that a
Detective is after me. — I start for Canada, and meeting the
Detective in the
Cars, strike up an Acquaintance with him. — He shows me a Photograph,
supposed
to be of myself, and tells me what his Plans are. — The Detective
baffled, and
my safe Arrival in Canada. — Hearty Welcome by the Confederates
there. — I
transact my Business, and prepare to return. . . . . 403
-
CHAPTER XXXVI.
ARRANGEMENTS FOR A WESTERN TRIP.
I return to Washington for the Purpose of reporting to Colonel Baker. —
Apprehensions with regard to the Kind of Reception I am likely to have
from him. — The Colonel amiable, and apparently unsuspicious. — I
give him an Account of my Richmond Trip, and receive his Congratulations.
— General A. calls on me, and he, Baker, and I go to the Theatre. —
A Supper at the Grand Hotel. — Baker calls on me the next
Morning, and proposes that I shall visit the Military Prisons at Johnson's
Island and elsewhere, for the Purpose of discovering whether the
Confederate Prisoners have any Intentions of Escaping. — I accept the
Commission, and start for the West. — Reflections on the Military and
Political Situations. . . . . 420
-
CHAPTER XXXVII.
JOHNSON'S ISLAND. — PREPARATIONS FOR AN ATTACK ON THE FEDERAL REAR.
On the Way to Sandusky. — I am introduced to a Federal Lieutenant on the
Cars, who is conducting Confederate Prisoners to Johnson's Island. — He
permits me to converse with the Prisoners, and I distribute some Money
among them. — Arrival at Sandusky. — First View of Johnson's Island. — I
visit the Island, and, on the strength of Colonel Baker's Letter, am
permitted
to go into the Enclosure and converse with the Prisoners. — I have a Talk
with
a young Confederate Officer, and give him Money and Despatches, and
explain what
is to be done for the Liberation of himself and his
Companions. — Returning to Sandusky, I send Telegraphic Despatches to the
Agents in Detroit, Buffalo, and Indianapolis. — How the grand Raid was
to have been made. — Its Failure
through the Treason or Cowardice of one Man. . . . . 433
-
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
IN THE INDIANAPOLIS ARSENAL. — FAILURE OF THE PROJECTED RAID.
I deliver Despatches to Agents in Indianapolis. — Waiting for Orders. —
I obtain Access to the Prison Camp, and confer with a Confederate Officer
confined there. — I apply to Governor Morton for Employment, and
am sent by him to the Arsenal. — I obtain a Situation in the Arsenal,
and am set to work packing Cartridges. — I form a Project for blowing
up the Arsenal. — Reasons for its Abandonment. — I receive a suspicious
Number of Letters. — How I obtained my Money Package from
the Express Office. — I go to St. Louis, and endeavor to obtain Employment
at the Planters' House, for the Purpose of enabling me to gain
Information from the Federal Officers lodging there. — Failing in this,
I strike up an Acquaintance with a Chambermaid, and by Means of her
Pass Key gain Access to several Rooms. — I gain some Information
from Despatches which I find, and am very nearly detected by a Bell
Boy. — I go to Hannibal to deliver a Despatch relating to the Indians. —
Hearing of the Failure Of the Johnson's Island Raid, I return East, and
send in my Resignation to Colonel Baker. . . . . 444
-
CHAPTER XXXIX.
BLOCKADE-RUNNING.
Making Preparations for going into Business as a Blockade-runner. — The Trade
in Contraband Goods by Northern Manufacturers and Merchants. — Profits
versus Patriotism. — The secret History of the War yet to be told. — This
Narrative a Contribution to it. — Some dark Transactions of which I was
Cognizant. — Purchasing Goods for the Southern Market, and shipping them on
Board of a Schooner in the North River. — How such Transactions were
managed. — The Schooner having sailed, I go to Havana by Steamer. —
On reaching Havana I meet some old Friends. — The Condition of the
blockade-running Business during the last Year of the War. — My Acquaintances
in Havana think that the Prospects of the Confederacy are rather gloomy. —
I visit Barbadoes,
and afterwards St. Thomas. — While at St. Thomas the Confederate Cruiser
Florida comes in, coals, and gets to Sea again, despite the Federal Fleet
watching her. . . . . 454
-
CHAPTER XL.
AN ATTACK ON THE FEDERAL TREASURY.
The Bounty-jumping and Substitute-brokerage Business. — Rascalities in
high Life and low Life. — Bounty-jumpers and Substitute-brokers not
the worst Rogues of the Period. — High Officials of the Government
implicated in Swindles. — Baker's Raid on the Treasury Ring, and the
Charges of Conspiracy brought against him by Members of Congress
and others. — A Committee of Congress exonerates the guilty Parties,
and blames Baker for exposing them. — What I know about these
Transactions. — Money needed to carry on the Confederate Operations
at the North. — Federal Officials countenancing the Issue of counterfeit
Confederate Bonds and Notes. — I go to Washington for the Purpose of
getting in with the Treasury Ring. — A rebel Clerk introduces me to a
high Official, who, on condition of sharing in the Profits, introduces
me to the Printing Bureau of the Treasury. — The Trade with England
in bogus Federal and Confederate Securities. — Making Johnny Bull
pay some of the Expenses of the War. . . . . 464
-
CHAPTER XLI.
COUNTERFEITING AND BOGUS BOND SPECULATIONS.
Introduction to an Official of the Printing Bureau of the Treasury Department.
— The Chief of the Treasury Ring. — I am referred by him to
another Person in the Bureau, who arranges for a private Interview
with me under a Cedar Tree in the Smithsonian Grounds. — The Influence
of certain Rascals in the Treasury Department with Secretary Chase and other
high Officials. — The Scandals about the Women Employees in the Department. —
Baker's Investigation baffled. — The Case of Dr. Gwynn. — The Conference
under the Cedar Tree. — A grand Scheme for speculating with Government Funds.
— I obtain Possession of an Electrotype Fac-Simile of a One-Hundred Dollar
Compound Interest Plate. — A Package of Money left for me under the Cedar
Tree. — Speculation in bogus Confederate and Federal Notes and Bonds. — How
the Thing was Managed. — Increase of illicit Speculation as the War
Progressed. — Bankers, Brokers, and other Men of High Reputation implicated in
it. — Counterfeiting, to a practically unlimited Extent, carried on with the
Aid of Electrotypes furnished from the Treasury Department. — Advantages taken
by the Confederate Agent of the general Demoralization. . . . . 476
-
CHAPTER XLII.
BOUNTY-JUMPING.
The Bounty-jumping and Substitute-brokerage Frauds, and their Origin.
— New York the Headquarters of the Bounty and Substitute-Brokers. —
Prominent Military Officers and Civilians implicated in the Frauds. — How
newly-enlisted Men managed to escape from Governor's Island. —
Castle Garden the great Resort of Substitute-brokers. — How the poor
Foreigners were entrapped by lying Promises made to them. — How these
Frauds could have been prevented by an impartial Conscription Law
impartially administered. — Colonel Baker arrives in New York for the
Purpose of commencing an Investigation. — He asks me to assist him, which I
consent to do, after warning my Associates. — How Baker went to
Work. — Striking up an Acquaintance with Jim Fisk. — Fisk gives me Money
for a Charitable Object, and Railroad Passes for poor Soldiers. — An Oil
Stock Speculation. . . . . 488
-
CHAPTER XLIII.
THE SURRENDER OF LEE.
Another Expedition to the West. — Hiring out as a House Servant. — A
Termagant Mistress. — Obtaining a Situation in a Copperhead Family.
— Introduction to Confederate Sympathizers. — A Contribution to the
Fund for the Relief of Confederate Prisoners. — I go to Canada, and from there
to New York, with Orders for various Confederate Agents. — Sherman's March
through the Carolinas. — I am induced to go to London on a financial
Mission. — Unsatisfactory News received, and I hasten Home. — The News of
Lee's Surrender brought on board the Steamer by the Pilot. — Excitement in
Wall Street. — A Settlement with my Partner, and the last of my secret
Banking. . . . . 499
-
CHAPTER XLIV.
THE ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN, AND END OF THE WAR.
Another Western Trip. — Delivering Despatches to Quantrell's Courier.
— A Stoppage at Columbus, Ohio. — News of the Assassination of President
Lincoln. — Return to New York. — Derangement of Plans caused by the
Assassination. — I again go West. — Mr. Lincoln's Body lying in State
at Columbus. — Return to Washington, and Interview with Baker. — I meet a
Confederate Officer, and get him to take a Message for me
to the South. — An aged Admirer. — Colonel Baker proposes that I shall start
on an Expedition in Search of myself. — A Letter from my Brother, and a
Request to meet him in New York. — A Determination to visit Europe. — I
accept Baker's Commission, and start for New York. . . . . 508
-
CHAPTER XLV.
A TOUR THROUGH EUROPE.
Off for Europe. — Seasickness. — An over-attentive
Doctor. — Advantages of
knowing more Languages than one. — A young Spaniard in
Love. — Arrival in
London. — Paris and its Sights. — Rheims and the Champagne
Country. —
Frankfort on the Main. — A beautiful Country, and a thriving
People. — A Visit to Poland. — Return to Paris, and Meeting
with old Confederates. — Friends who knew me, and who did not know
me. — Finding out what my old Army Associates thought of
Me. — Back to
London. — A Visit to Hyde Park, and a Sight of Queen
Victoria. — Manchester
and its Mills. — Homeward Bound. — Return to New York, and
Separation from
my Brother and his Family. . . . . 519
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CHAPTER XLVI.
SOUTH AMERICAN EXPEDITION.
A Southern Tour. — Visit to Baltimore and Washington. — The
Desolations
of War as visible in Richmond, Columbia, and Charlotte. — A Race with
a
Federal Officer at Charleston. — Meeting with old Friends at
Atlanta. — A
Surprise for one of them. — Travelling over my old Campaigning
Ground. — The
Forlorn Appearance of Things in New Orleans. — Emigration
Projects. — I make
some Investigation into them, and decide to go to South America for the
Purpose
of looking at the Country, and reporting to my Friends. — The
Venezuelan
Expedition and its Projector. — I suspect that it is a mere
Speculation, but
conclude to accompany it. — My third Marriage. — I endeavor to
persuade my
Husband to seek a Home in the Far West, but on his Refusal, sail with him
for
Venezuela. — Forty-nine Persons packed in a small Schooner, with no
Conveniences, and with scanty Provisions. — A horrible
Voyage. — Sighting
the Mouth of the River Orinoco. . . . . 531
-
CHAPTER XLVII.
VENEZUELA.
Taking a Pilot on board. — A perplexing Predicament. — Beautiful
Scenery
along the Orinoco. — Negro Officials. — Disgust of some of the
Emigrants. —
Frightened Natives. — Arrival at the City of Bolivar. — The
United States
Consul ashamed of the Expedition. — Death of my
Husband. — Another
Expedition makes its Appearance. — Sufferings of the
Emigrants. — I write a
Letter to my Friends in New Orleans, warning them not to come to
Venezuela. —
Rival Lovers. — I conclude that I have had enough of Matrimony, and
encourage
neither of them. — A Trip by Sea to La Guyra and Caraccas. — I
prepare to
leave. — What I learned in Venezuela. — The Resources of the
Country. . . . . 542
-
CHAPTER XLVIII.
DEMERARA, TRINIDAD, BARBADOES, AND ST. LUCIA
From Venezuela to Demerara. — The Hotels of Georgetown,
Demerara. — The
United States Consul at Georgetown. — A Visit to a Coffee
Plantation. — A
Cooly murders his Wife. — Excitement in the Streets of
Georgetown. — The
Products of Demerara. — Fort Spain, Trinidad. — A very dirty
Town. —
Bridgetown, Barbadoes. — Having a good Time among old
Friends. — A Drive to
Speightstown. — St. Lucia. — The old
Homestead. — Reminiscences of
Childhood. — The Past, the Present, and the Future. — The Family
Burying-ground. . . . . 553
-
CHAPTER XLIX.
ST. THOMAS AND CUBA.
St. Thomas. — A cordial Welcome. — A Reception at the
Hotel. — Points of
Interest at St. Thomas. — The Escape of the Florida. — Santiago
de Cuba. —
Hospitalities. — Havana. — Visits from my
Relatives. — Courtesies from
Spanish Officials and others. — I take part in a Procession,
attired as a Spanish Officer. — General Mansana taken sick. — A
Steamer in
the Harbor, with Emigrants from the United States on board, bound for
Para. —
I endeavor to persuade them to Return. — Death of General
Mansana. — I start
for New York. . . . . 562
-
CHAPTER L.
ACROSS THE CONTINENT.
Across the Continent in search of a Fortune. — Omaha. — A Meeting
with the
veteran General Harney. — Governor C. asks me to introduce him to the
General. — The Backwoodsman and the veteran Soldier. — The
General induces
me to tell the Story of my Career, and gives me some good
Advice. — Off for a
long Stage-coach Ride. — Rough Fellow-Travellers. — An unmannerly
Army
Officer taught Politeness. — Julesburg. — An undesirable Place
for a
permanent Residence. — An atrocious Murder. — More unpleasant
travelling
Companions. — Cheyenne. — A Frontier Hotel. — Lack of even
decent
Accommodations. — An undesirable Bedfellow. — A Visit to
Laporte. — Again
on the Road. — A Water-Spout in Echo Canon. — The Coach caught in
a
Quicksand. — Mormon Hospitalities. — Salt Lake
City. — Arrival at the City
of Austin, Nevada. . . . . 570
-
CHAPTER LI.
MINING IN UTAH AND NEVADA. — THE MORMONS AND THEIR COUNTRY.
Noisy Neighbors. — A Nevada Desperado. — The Aristocracy of
Austin. — My
Marriage. — Speculation in Mines and Mining Stock. — Removal to
Sacramento
Valley, California. — Off for the Gold Regions again. — A
characteristic
Fraud. — "Salting" a Mine. — The Wellington
District. — A Description of
the Country, and its Animal, Vegetable, and Mineral Products. — A
Residence in
Salt Lake City. — Acquaintance with prominent Mormons, and Inquiries
into the
Nature of their Belief. — Mormon Principles and Practices. — Salt
Lake City
and its Surroundings. — The Mineral Wealth of Utah. — Preparing
to Return to
the East. . . . . 584
-
CHAPTER LII.
COLORADO, NEW MEXICO, AND TEXAS. — CONCLUSION.
Denver. — Pueblo. — Trinidad. — Stockton's Ranche. — A
Headquarters for
Desperadoes. — Cattle Stealing. — A private
Graveyard. — Maxwell's
Ranche. — Dry Cimmaron. — Fort Union. — Santa Fe. — The
oldest City in
New Mexico. — A Wagon Journey down the Valley of the Rio
Grande. — Evidences
of Ancient Civilization. — Fort McRae and the Hot Spring. — Mowry
City. —
The Gold Mining Region of New Mexico and Arizona. — El Paso. — A
thriving
Town. — A Stage Ride through Western Texas. — Fort
Bliss. — Fort Quitman
and Eagle Spring. — The Leon Holes. — Fort Stockton. — The
Rio Pecos. —
A fine Country. — Approaching Civilization. — The End of the
Story. . . . . 597
THE WOMAN IN BATTLE.
CHAPTER I.
CHILDHOOD.
The Woman in Battle. — Heroines of History. — Joan
of Arc. — A Desire to emulate Her. — The Opportunity that was
offered. — Breaking out of the War between the North and
the South. — Determination to take part in the Contest. — A noble
Ancestry. — The Velazquez Family. — My Birth at
Havana. — Removal of my Family to Mexico. — The War
between The United States and Mexico. — Loss of my Father's
Estates. — Return of the Family to Cuba. — My early
Education. — At School in New Orleans. — Castles in the
Air. — Romantic Aspirations. — Trying to be a Man. — Midnight
Promenades before the Mirror in Male Attire.
HE
woman in battle is an infrequent figure on the pages of history, and
yet, what would not history lose were the glorious records of the
heroines, — the great-souled women, who have stood in the front rank
where
the battle was hottest and the fray most deadly, — to be obliterated?
When women have rushed to the battle-field they have invariably
distinguished themselves; and their courage, their enthusiasm, and their
devotion to the cause espoused, have excited the brave among the men
around them to do and to dare to the utmost, and have shamed the
cowards into believing that it was worth while to peril life itself in a noble
cause, and that
honor to a soldier ought to be more valuable than even life. The
records of the women who have taken up arms in the cause of
home and country; who have braved the scandals of the camp;
who have hazarded reputation, — reputation dearer than
life, — and who have stood in the imminent
deadly breach, defying the enemy, if not so imposing in
numbers as those in which the deeds of male warriors are
recited, are glorious nevertheless; and if steadfast courage,
true-hearted loyalty, and fiery enthusiasm go for anything, women
have nothing to blush for in the martial deeds of those of their
sex who have stood upon the battle-field.
Far back in the early days of the Hebrew commonwealth
Deborah rallied the despairing warriors of Israel, and led them
to victory. Semiramis, the Queen of the Assyrians, commanded
her armies in person. Tomyris, the Scythian queen, after the
defeat of the army under the command of her son, Spargopises,
took the field in person, and outgeneralling the Persian king,
Cyrus, routed his vastly outnumbering forces with great
slaughter, the king himself being among the slain. Boadicea, the
British queen, resisted the Roman legions to the last, and fought
the invaders with fury when not a man could be found to lead the
islanders to battle. Bona Lombardi, an Italian peasant girl, fought
in male attire by the side of her noble husband, Brunaro, on more
than one hotly contested field; and on two occasions, when he had
been taken prisoner and placed in close confinement, she
effected his release by her skill and valor.
The Nun-Lieutenant.
Catalina de Eranso, the Monja
Alferez, or the nun-lieutenant,
who was born in the city of Sebastian, Spain, in 1585, was
one of the most remarkable of the heroines who have
distinguished themselves by playing the masculine rôle, and
venturing into positions of deadly peril. This woman,
becoming disgusted with the monotony of convent life, made
her escape, and in male garb joined one of the numerous
expeditions then fitting out for the New World. Her intelligence
and undaunted valor soon attracted the notice of her superior
officers, and she was rapidly promoted. Participating in a
number of hard-fought battles, she won the reputation of being
an unusually skilful and daring soldier, and would have
achieved both fame and fortune, were it not that her fiery temper
embroiled her
in frequent quarrels with her associates. One of her many
disagreements resulted in a duel, in which she had the
misfortune to kill her antagonist, and, to escape the vengeance
of his friends, she was compelled to fly. After traversing a
large portion of the New World, and encountering innumerable
perils, she returned to Europe, where she found that the
trumpet of fame was already heralding her name, and that
there was the greatest curiosity to see her. Travelling through
Spain and Italy, she had numerous exceedingly romantic
adventures; and while in the last named country she managed to obtain an
interview with Pope Urban VIII., who was so pleased with
her appearance and her conversation that he granted her
permission to wear male attire during the balance of her life.
Within the past hundred years more than one heroine has
stamped her name indelibly upon the role of fame. All
Amercans know how brave Molly Pitcher, at the battle of
Monmouth, busied herself in carrying water to the parched and
wearied soldiers, and how, when her husband was shot down
at his gun, instead of woman fashion, sorrowing for him with
unavailing tears, she sprang to take his place, and through the
long, hot summer's day fought the foreign emissaries who were
seeking to overthrow the liberties of her country, until, with
decimated ranks they fled, defeated from the field.
At the seige of Saragossa, in 1808, when Palafox, and the
men under his command, despaired of being able to resist the
French, Agostino, "the maid of Saragossa," appeared upon the
scene, and with guerra al cuchillo — "war to the knife" — as
her battle-cry, she inspired the general and his soldiers to fight
to the last in resisting the French invaders, and by her words
and deeds became the leading spirit in one of the most heroic
defences of history.
Appolonia Jagiello.
Nearer our own time Appolonia Jagiello fought valiantly for
the liberation of Poland and Hungary. She had kingly blood in
her veins, and her heart burned within her at the
wrongs which her native country, Poland, suffered at the hands
of her oppressors. When the insurrection at Cracow took
place, in 1846, she assumed male attire, and went into the
thickest of the fight. The insurrection was a failure, although
it might not have been had the men who began it been as
stout-hearted and as enthusiastic in a great cause as Appolonia
Jagiello. In 1848 she participated in another outbreak at
Cracow, and distinguished herself as one of the most valorous
of the combatants. After the failure of this attempt at
rebellion she went to Vienna, where she took part in an
engagement in the faubourg Widen. Her object in visiting the
Austrian capital, however, was chiefly to ascertain the exact
character of the struggle which was in progress, in order to
carry information to the Hungarians. After numerous perilous
adventures she joined the Hungarian forces, and fought
at the battle of Enerzey, in which the Austrians were defeated,
and on account of the valor she displayed was promoted
to the rank of lieutenant. After this she joined an
expedition under General Klapka, which assaulted an took
the city of Raab. When the Hungarians were finally defeated
and there was no longer any hope that either Hungary or
Poland would gain their independence, Mademoiselle Jagiello
came to the United States, in 1848, with other refugees, and for
a number of years resided in the city of Washington, respected
and beloved by all who knew her. No braver soldier than this
lady ever trod the field of battle, while the universal testimony
of all who were honored with her acquaintance is, that she was
a most womanly woman, and was lacking in nothing that
makes true womanhood esteemed by right-thinking people.
Joan Of Arc.
But, whenever I think of the women who have distinguished
themselves in battle, my affections turn to the greatest and
noblest of them all, and my imagination fires with a desire to
emulate the glorious deeds of Joan of Arc, the Maid of Orleans.
A religious enthusiast, as well as a born leader of men, and a
martial genius of the first order, this great woman infused, by
the power of her matchless eloquence, courage and
determination into the heart of a weak, cowardly, and vacillating
king, and then, seizing the banner of France, she rallied the
defeated and demoralized armies, and led them with terrible
effect against the British foe. At last, betrayed into the hands of
her enemies, she suffered with all the unbending courage of her
heroic nature, a martyrdom at the stake, which, while it
embalmed her memory in the hearts of the French people,
covered with shame the names of the cowardly ruffians who
decreed her death on a pretended charge, because they were
afraid to let her live for fear that
her existence, even as a prisoner, would be a perpetual menace
to them, and a perpetual encouragement to the French people
to fight to the death. The statue of Joan of Arc, chiselled by the
fair hands of a French princess, stands to-day in the market-place
at Rouen where she suffered, and the memory of her
glorious deeds as a great-hearted patriot remains to all time as
an example of what a woman may do if she only dares, and
dares to do greatly.
From my early childhood Joan of Arc was my favorite
heroine; and many a time has my soul burned with an
overwhelming desire to emulate her deeds of valor, and to
make for myself a name which, like hers, would be enrolled in
letters of gold among the women who had the courage to fight
like men — ay, better than most men — for a great cause, for
friends, and for father-land.
At length an opportunity offered, in the breaking out of the
conflict between the North and the South in 1861, for me to
carry out my long-cherished ideas; and it was embraced with
impetuous eagerness, combined with a calm determination to
see the thing through, and to shrink from nothing that such a
step would involve.
My opportunities and my circumstances were different from
those of my ideal woman, Joan of Arc, and consequently my
story has but little resemblance to hers. I did all that it was
possible for me to do, however, for the cause I espoused, and
the great French heroine did no more. Happily I escaped her
dreadful fate, and live to relate the many adventures that befell
me while playing the part of a warrior. So many persons have
assured me that my story — prosaic as much of it seems to me — is
full of romance, and that it cannot fail to interest readers both
South and North, that I have been induced to narrate it for
the benefit of those who wish to make
the acquaintance of a woman warrior, and to be entertained,
and perhaps instructed, by a recital of her adventures. If there are
any such, — and I am sure there are, — they will find in these
pages an unaffected and unpretending, but truthful,
and I hope interesting narrative of what befell me while
attached to the army of the Confederate States of America, and while
performing services other than those of a strictly military character
under the pseudonyme of Lieutenant Harry T. Buford.
Hundreds, nay thousands of officers and men in the Confederate
service, knew me well under this name, and although
my disguise was finally penetrated, and I was forced to resume
the garments of my sex, it is probable that a vast number of
my late associates will now for the first time learn that the
handsome young officer — I was accounted an uncommonly
good-looking fellow, when dressed in my best uniform, in those
days — was a woman, and a woman who was mentally making
some very uncomplimentary notes with regard to much of their
very naughty conversation. My experience is, that the language
used by the very best men in masculine society is too often not
such as pure-minded women would like to listen to, while that of
the worst is so utterly revolting, that it is a pity some men
cannot always have decent women at their elbows to keep their
tongues from being fouled with blasphemy and obscenity. I
hope that some of my late associates, when they learn that the
Lieutenant Harry T. Buford, whose ears were so often
greeted by their profanity and ribaldry, will have enough
self-respect to blush with shame at having addressed the language
they did to a woman, and a modest woman at that.
What I have just said will give a hint of some of the most
unpleasant incidentals of the rôle which I undertook to play.
I was not to be deterred, however, from carrying out my plans by
the bad language I was compelled to listen to, nor by any other
of the disagreeable features of camp life. How well I did play
my part, happily does not depend upon my own testimony alone,
for some of the most distinguished officers of the Confederate
army, and many equally distinguished civilians, can and will
testify to the truthfulness of the story I am about to relate, and
to the unblemished character I bore while in the Confederate
service. I not only assumed the garment of my sex once more
with the credit of having done the state some important
services, and of having labored with efficiency, courage, and
energy to secure the independence of the Confederacy, but,
with my womanly reputation unblemished by even a suspicion
of impropriety; and I take this occasion to say, in a very
positive manner, that women, if they will, may pass through the most
trying scenes with unblemished reputations, and that they have
much more to dread in this particular matter from the
scandalous gossip of city, village, and country neighborhoods,
than they have from camp associations, with all their license of
language and conduct.
The Velazquez Family.
I have every reason to be proud of the name I bear, and of
the ancestry from whom I inherited it. My father's family is a
very ancient one, and the blood which flows in my veins is that
of Castilian nobles, whose deeds are intimately connected
with some of the most impressive episodes of Spanish history.
Reckless as some portions of my own career may seem to
unthinking persons, I have the satisfaction of knowing, in my
own soul, that by no act of mine has the noble name of
Velazquez been brought into discredit, and that at all times, and
under the most discouraging circumstances, I have ever upheld
my own honor and that of my family.
Both in Spain and in the Spanish dominions on this side of the
Atlantic, is the name of Velazquez well known and highly
honored. Don Diego Velazquez, the conqueror and the first
governor of Cuba, under whose superintendence the expedition
which discovered Mexico was sent out, was one of my
ancestors, and Don Diego Rodriguez Velazquez, the greatest
artist that Spain ever produced, was a member of my family. It
will thus be seen that I came of excellent, although somewhat
fiery and headstrong stock, and, if in assuming the garments of
a man, and endeavoring to do a man's work on the battle-field, I
transgressed against the conventionalities of modern society,
the reader will, I am sure, charitably attribute some of the
blame to the adventuresome blood of old Governor Don Diego,
which I inherited, and, which fired my brain and steeled my
nerves when there was a prospect held out that, despite the
fact of my being a woman, I might be able to enjoy the
excitements of the battlefield, and win for myself a warrior's
fame.
My father was a native of the city of Carthagena, and he
received a very thorough education at the universities of
Madrid and Paris. He was an accomplished Latin, French and
German scholar, and spoke all these languages fluently. English
he paid but little attention to until alter his marriage with my
mother. Like all the members of his family, he was a very
strict Catholic. Two of his brothers being in the Spanish army,
and his tastes inclining him to the life of a civilian, a diplomatic
appointment was procured for him, and he went to Paris as an
attaché of the Spanish embassy.
It was while residing in Paris that my father became
acquainted with the lady whom he married, and made the
mother of his children. My mother was the daughter of a French
naval officer, by an American lady, the daughter of a wealthy
merchant. She, of course, spoke English fluently, and tried to
instruct my father in it. He managed, in time, to understand it
very well, but he never spoke it without
some accent. My father's marriage occurred a short time
before the expiration of his term of office, and after his
recall to Spain he took up his residence in the city of Madrid,
where three sons and two daughters were born.
My Birth.
In 1840 my father was appointed to an official position in
Cuba, and two years later I, his sixth and last child, came
into the world in a house on the Calle Velaggas, near the walls
in the city of Havana, on the 26th of June, 1842. I was christened
Loreta Janeta.
When I was almost one year old, my father fell heir to a
large estate in Texas, which was then a part of the republic of
Mexico. He accordingly resigned his position as an employee of
the Spanish government in Cuba, and in 1844 removed with his
family to San Luis Potosi, in Central Mexico. His property
consisted of a very large tract of land and immense herds of cattle,
and as he was a careful and accurate business man, the probabilities
are, that in a short time he would have become one of the wealthiest
landed proprietors of that region. Unfortunately we had scarcely been
settled in our new home a twelvemonth, when the war between Mexico
and the United States broke out. I was too young at the time, of course,
to recollect anything of this memorable contest, although it had
a potent influence on my own destiny.
The Mexican War.
My father, so soon as war was declared, decided to take
part in the conflict, and offered his services to the Mexican
government to assist in expelling the invaders. His offer was
accepted, and he received a commission as an officer in the
army. Sending his family to the Island of St. Lucia, one of the
British West Indian provinces, where my mother's only brother
resided, he took the field, and fought until the
end of the war against the forces of the United States. During
the conflict his estates were devastated and his
property destroyed, and this, combined with the non-success of
the Mexican arms, greatly imbittered him against the
Americans, and this bitterness he retained till the day of his
death.
When the war was ended, and a large portion of the
northern part of Mexico ceded to the United States, my
father, whose estates were included in this territory, refused to
live under a government which he disliked so intensely, and he
consequently abandoned his property and went to Santiago de
Cuba, where he was rejoined by his family. In the mean time
he had fallen heir to another valuable estate at Puerto de
Palmas, and settling upon it, he engaged actively in the sugar,
tobacco, and coffee trade. The profits on these articles being
very large, he speedily acquired great wealth, and was able to
surround his family with every luxury.
While we were residing on the Puerto de Palmas plantation
an English governess was employed to conduct my education. I
remained under this good lady's instruction until 1849, learning
the elementary branches, and acquiring a fair knowledge of the
English language. In that year my father, at my mother's urgent
solicitation, determined to send me to New Orleans for the
purpose of completing my education. I accordingly took up my
abode with Madame R., my mother's only surviving sister, who
resided in Rue Esplanade, New Orleans. My aunt was rather
strict with me, but she took much pains with my education, and
for two years I studied under her supervision, mainly devoting
myself to acquiring an accurate knowledge of English, so as to
be able to read, write, and speak it with fluency. Having become
reasonably proficient in such studies as were assigned me by my aunt,
I was sent to the school conducted by the Sisters of Charity, to
learn the ornamental branches. Here I remained until the
romantic clandestine marriage, which did so much towards
shaping my future career, took place.
Dreams Of Glory.
From my earliest recollections my mind has been filled with
aspirations, of the most ardent possible kind, to fill some great
sphere. I expended all my pocket money, not in candies and
cakes, as most girls are in the habit of doing, but in the purchase
of books which related the events of the lives of kings, princes,
and soldiers. The story of the siege of Orleans, in particular, I
remember, thrilled my young heart, fired my imagination, and
sent my blood bounding through my veins with excitement. Joan
of Arc became my heroine, and I longed for an opportunity to
become such another as she. I built air-castles without number,
and in my day-dreams I was fond of imagining myself as the
hero of most stupendous adventures. I wished that I was a
man, such a man as Columbus or Captain Cook, and could
discover new worlds, or explore unknown regions of the earth.
I could not even write a social letter to my father to inform him
of the state of my health, or my educational progress, without
putting in it some romantic project which I had on hand. This
propensity of mine evidently annoyed him greatly, for he
frequently reprimanded me with much severity, although he
took no measures to remove me from influences which were
certainly not unattended with danger to a girl of my impulsive
and imaginative disposition; so that it is no wonder I was soon
engaged in a romantic escapade which gave my family great
offense and anxiety.
I was especially haunted with the idea of being a man; and
the more I thought upon the subject, the more I was disposed to
murmur at Providence for having created me a woman. While
residing with my aunt, it was frequently my habit, after all in the
house had retired to bed at night, to dress myself in my cousin's
clothes, and to promenade by the hour before the mirror,
practicing the gait of a man, and admiring the figure I made in
masculine raiment. I wished that I could only change places
with my brother Josea. If I could have done so I would never
have been a doctor, but would have marked out for myself a
military career, and have disported myself in the gay uniform
of an officer.
CHAPTER II.
MARRIAGE.
My Betrothal. — Love Matches and Marriages of Convenience. — Some
new Ideas picked up from my Schoolmates. — A new Lover appears
upon the Field. — I Figure as a Rival to a Friend. — Love's Young
Dream. — A new Way of popping the Question. — A Clandestine
Marriage. — Displeasure of my Family. — Life as the Wife of an
Army Officer. — The Mormon Expedition. — Birth of my first Child,
and Reconciliation with my Family. — Commencement of the War
between the North and South. — Death of my Children. — Resignation
of my Husband from the Army. — My Determination to take Part in the
coming Conflict as a Soldier. — Opposition of my Husband to my
Schemes.
OME
time previous to my admission to the Sisters' school,
I was betrothed to a young Spaniard, Raphael R.,
in accordance with plans which my relatives had
formed with regard to me, and without any action
on my part. Indeed, my consent was not asked,
my parents, thinking that they were much better
qualified to arrange a suitable alliance than I was,
and that, provided other things were satisfactory,
love was something of minor importance, that
could very well be left to take care of itself They
were mistaken, however, as other parents have
been in similar cases, for, like a good many girls,
as soon as I was old enough to do much thinking
for myself, I had no difficulty in coming to the
conclusion that the choice of a husband was
something I ought to have a voice in.
I had been educated under very old-fashioned ideas with
regard to the duties which children owe to their parents, for,
among my father's country people, children, even when they
have arrived at years of discretion, are supposed to be under
the authority of their father and mother, and marriages for love,
having their origin in a spontaneous affection of young people
for each other, are very rare. It is the custom in Spain,
and among the Spanish people in America, for the parents to
make what they consider suitable matches for their children,
and the young people are expected to accept any arrangement
that may be concluded in their behalf, without murmuring.
This does not seem to be the proper way of conducting such an
important piece of business as marriage, and it is very contrary to
the notions which are common in the United States. A good deal,
however, could be said in favor of it, and it is certain that quite as
large a number of marriages of convenience, such as are usual in
Europe, turn out happily as of the love matches which are usual in
the United States. The fact is, that the majority of young people
really do not know their own minds, and they often fancy
themselves in love when they are not. Marriage undeceives them,
and then they wish that they had exercised a little more discretion,
and had not been in quite such a hurry. On the other hand, in a
marriage of convenience, if the parties are at all suited to each
other, and are at all disposed to make the best of the situation, they
soon become affectionate, and love after marriage is, perhaps, in
reality, the most likely to be enduring. As a general principle,
however, there can be no doubt that a couple ought to be fond of
each other before marriage, and if a young man and young woman
of proper age, and with the means to start housekeeping, fall in love,
and want to get married, parents do wrong to oppose them unless
there are some very serious reasons for so doing.
A marriage by parental arrangement was the last thing in the
world to suit a scatter-brained, romantic girl like myself, whose
head was filled with all sorts of wild notions, and it is not to be
wondered at, therefore, that I rebelled. When I was betrothed
to Raphael, however, I had not the slightest notion of objecting;
and although I did not feel a particle of affection for him, I
accepted him for my future husband, as a matter of course,
and received his visits with a proper degree of complacency, if
not with any great demonstrations of regard.
I had not been long in the school, however, when, from my
association with American girls, I obtained considerable
enlightenment on a good many subjects about which I had
previously been profoundly ignorant; and concerning this
matter of marriage, in particular, I learned that it was not
considered the correct thing at all for the parents of a young
lady to pick out a husband for her. The girls, when they found
that I was betrothed without my own consent, were at a great
deal of pains to inform me that this was a free country, and that
one of the chief blessings of living in a free country was, that a
girl could not be compelled to marry any particular man if she
did not choose to do so.
This kind of talk excited me very much and I began to wish to
break my engagement with Raphael, even before a rival
stepped in to secure the affections which belonged to him,
according to the arrangement my parents had made. I did not
see my way very clear, however, and probably would have
married him eventually, had not a more acceptable lover put in
an appearance. Some of the girls professed to know a good
deal about the law, and insisted that if my parents wished to
force me to marry against my own consent, I could defy their
authority, and appeal to the courts to allow me to choose a
guardian. Such a course as this, however, I knew would sever
me from my family; and as I had the fondest regard for my
dear father and mother, I dreaded to find myself cut off,
disinherited, and thrown upon the charity of strangers. I
consequently took no steps to get rid of Raphael until I chanced
to make the acquaintance of a young American army officer
who was paying particular attention to one of my schoolmates,
Nellie V.
A Real Lover.
Nellie was a beautiful girl, of about sixteen years of age, and
a very warm regard subsisted between us up to the time of her
discovery that I was endeavoring to capture her lover. Her
affection for me did not last long after that, and she said a great
many disagreeable things about me, for which I have long
since forgiven her, as I doubt not she has me for running away
with her handsome young officer.
He was indeed a handsome young officer, and his manly and
graceful appearance, especially when attired in his brilliant
uniform, made such an impression on my heart, that I soon
could think of nothing else. I found now that love was a reality,
and my thoughts by day and my dreams by night had no other
object than the gentleman who, while paying his assiduous
attentions to Nellie, never imagined what ravages he was
making in the heart of her schoolmate. I learned to hate
Raphael, and his attempts to make himself agreeable
to me only served to increase my dislike. Of Nellie I soon
became savagely jealous, and was ready to cry with rage and
vexation whenever I saw her lover paying her any delicate
attentions. We, however, to all appearances, continued fast
friends, it was not for several months that she discovered I was
her rival. The object of my devotion was also profoundly
ignorant of my feelings towards him, and I had not the courage
to tell him. At length I became desperate, and determined at the
earliest opportunity to acquaint the young officer with the
affection I entertained for him.
Declaration Of Love.
The wished-for opportunity finally offered. One evening
Nellie and I agreed to exchange partners, for the purpose of
finding out how much they loved us. Raphael did not fancy this
manoeuvre a bit, but submitted to it with as good a grace as
possible. The officer and myself managed to get out of ear-shot
of the other couple, but, now that the opportunity I had sighed
for was mine, I was afraid to open my mouth on the subject
nearest my heart. I trembled all over, but was determined
before we separated to let him know the state of my heart.
Finding that I had not courage to speak, I wrote a few words in
his pocket diary, which told him everything.
He was intensely surprised; but he declared, with much
warmth, that he had long wished to speak with me on this very
matter, and would have done so, were it not that he thought I
was betrothed, and that under any circumstances there would
be no chance for an American to win my affections. My new
lover behaved in the most honorable manner, for, as soon as he
obtained my consent for him to pay his addresses, he went to
my aunt, and asked permission to visit at her house. She
granted his request, with the condition that he was to
understand that I was betrothed, and would demean himself
towards me accordingly. This condition he listened to, but with
a determination to pay little heed to it, his main object being
accomplished in securing the right to see me without fear of
being interfered with.
When my lover began to appear at my aunt's as a pretty
constant visitor, Raphael was quick to suspect him as a rival,
who was more highly appreciated than himself, and became
furiously jealous. I cannot tell what torture I suffered in
endeavoring to be amiable to a man whom I hated, in order
that I might prevent an explosion which would deprive me of the
society of the one I really loved with the most devoted
fondness. Finally Raphael, unable to endure the sight of his rival
constantly in attendance upon me, and evidently finding
extreme favor in my eyes, prevailed upon my aunt to forbid him
admittance to the house, on the plea that he was becoming
altogether too intimate with the betrothed of another. This
gratified Raphael's malignity, and it was a severe blow to both
of us. Although we could not meet on the same pleasantly
familiar terms as before, we were resolved not to be separated,
for we were now too much in love to be willing to give each
other up. In spite of my aunt's endeavors to keep us apart, and
in spite of Raphael's jealous vigilance, William — for that was my
lover's name — found means to carry on a correspondence with
me, to meet me at the houses of mutual friends, and to speak to
me on the street on my way to and from school. Raphael, who
took pains to have us closely watched, informed my aunt of
what was going on, and I was accordingly threatened with being
locked up in a convent, or with being sent back to Cuba, if I did
not conduct myself with more propriety. I was horror-stricken at
the idea of either fate, but as I knew my aunt to be a very
determined woman, who would certainly carry out her threat if I
did not take measures to place it out of her power to do so, I
was not long in making up my mind what course to follow, and
having fixed upon a plan of action, I only awaited a suitable
opportunity to put it into execution.
The opportunity I sighed for was not long in offering itself;
for one evening, as I was sitting at my window, in company
with a young French creole girl, I saw William pass and look
up. I waved my handkerchief in salutation, and he recognized
the signal by raising his cap. I then asked the young lady if she
would not do me the favor of taking a letter to him, and of
permitting us to have an interview at her home. She readily
consented; and carrying a hastily written note to William,
soon returned with an answer, to the effect that he would meet
me in an hour's time. My aunt did not permit me to go out alone
in the evening; but as she suspected nothing wrong in the
proposed visit to my friend's house, she consented, without
hesitation, for me to go under the escort of one of the servants.
As my escort, of course, on our arrival at the rendezvous,
remained with the servants of the
house, I was able to converse with William without fear of
espial, or of being interrupted.
A Runaway Match.
My lover informed me that he expected soon to be
ordered to one of the frontier posts. He declared that he could
not exist without me, and proposed that we should elope, and
get married privately. As this was my own plan exactly, I gave
my consent, without any hesitation, the moment the proposition
was made. On a little reflection, however, my conscience began
to trouble me, for I knew that I should not be doing right; so I
told him I would prefer that he should make an open and
straightforward proposition for my hand to my parents. I
considered that it was a duty I owed them to ask their consent
first, but promised, if they opposed the marriage, that I would
not let their disapprobation interfere with the consummation of
our wishes. William himself thought that this was the proper
and honorable course to pursue, and he accordingly wrote to my
father, and asked his permission to marry me. A reply to his
request was not long forthcoming, in which he was reprimanded
in very harsh terms for daring to make it, knowing me to be the
betrothed of another. This settled the matter; and accordingly,
on the 5th of April, 1856, we were clandestinely married.
I told no one of the step I had taken, and remained at my
aunt's, on the same apparent footing as before, until the
following October, meeting William privately, when I could do
so without being observed, but taking more pains to prevent our
interviews from being noted than I had done previous to our
marriage. At length I had a furious quarrel with my aunt on
account of Raphael. She reproached me in severe terms for my
conduct towards him; and I replied by discarding him, and
refusing to have anything more to do with him. My aunt was
extremely indignant; and finding me obdurate, threatened to put
me in the convent at Baton Rouge. I was terribly frightened at
this, and concluded that it was time for me to act with
decision. I accordingly informed my husband of the situation,
and he came immediately and claimed me as his wife,
presenting the certificate of marriage to my horror-stricken
relative.
This was a terrible blow to my aunt, but a greater one to my
parents, especially to my father, who idolized me. My
father's indignation got the better of his affection, and he
promptly informed me that I might consider myself as
repudiated and disinherited. The pangs this cruel message
caused me were intense, but I was consoled with the lavish
affection bestowed upon me by my handsome young husband,
and with the thought that, in course of time, my parents would
relent, and be willing to again receive me as their daughter.
With the exception of my estrangement from my family,
there was but one thing that interfered with my happiness. My
husband was a Protestant, and desired me to believe as he did.
It required a hard struggle for me to forsake the faith in which
I had been educated; but eventually I learned to think as my
husband did about religious matters, and became a member of
the Methodist church.
My separation from my family caused me much grief, but I
tried hard not to let my husband see how much I suffered. I
entered as far as possible into his thoughts and wishes, and only
gratified a natural taste by giving a large portion of my time to
the study of military tactics. I longed for a war to break out,
and resolved that if one did occur, I would follow my husband
to the battle-field, and minister to him, even if I was not
allowed to fight by his side.
The Mormon Expedition.
In 1857 there appeared to be a chance that my martial
aspiration would be gratified. The government organized an
expedition against the Mormons, and my husband was ordered
to accompany it. In the mean time, however, I had become a
mother; and much as I desired to accompany the army to
Utah, I was forced to acknowledge the impracticability of a
journey across the plains with an infant in my arms, and was
compelled to submit to remaining behind.
When my baby came into the world I yearned more than
ever to be reconciled with my family, and, with my husband's
consent, wrote to my mother and to my favorite brother, who,
but a few months before, had graduated with distinction from
the College de France. This brother had long since forgiven
me, and, in confederation with my mother, had labored to
soften the heart of my father towards me. On the receipt of the
letter announcing the birth of my child, and my earnest desire
to be forgiven for my fault, they worked so successfully on the
feelings of my father, that, after a somewhat stubborn
resistance, he yielded, and consented to have my mother and
brother visit me in St. Louis. My brother, after becoming
acquainted with my husband, esteemed him highly, and finally
the bad feeling which had been caused by my clandestine
marriage wore away, my father alone treating me with a
coolness which he had never previously shown. When I met
him for the first time after my marriage, he turned his cheek to
me, saying, "You can never impress a kiss on my lips after a
union with my country's enemy," — from which I concluded that
it was not so much my marriage without his consent, as my
alliance with an American soldier that imbittered him.
After the Mormon expedition had returned, my husband met
me at New Orleans, and from thence took me to Fort
Leavenworth, then a remote frontier town. The living
accommodations at this place were miserable, and the cooking,
especially, was atrociously bad. I bore every discomfort,
however, without a murmur, out of deference to my husband's
feelings, and in every way endeavored to make myself as little
of a burden to him as possible. In course of time I became a
good American in thought and manner, and despite the
inconveniences of life at a frontier post, was as happy as I
could wish to be.
In the spring of 1860 I returned to St. Louis, while my
husband went to Fort Arbuckle. During his separation from
me, our third babe was born and died. In October of the same
year he returned, having received a summons from his
father — a resident of Texas — to the effect that there was
reason to believe a war was about to break out between the
North and the South, and desiring him to resign.
About this time my two remaining children died of fever,
and my grief at their loss probably had a great influence in
reviving my old notions about military glory, and of exciting
anew my desires to win fame on the battle-field. I was
dreadfully afraid that there would be no war, and my spirits
rose and sank as the prospects of a conflict brightened or
faded. When my husband's State determined to secede, I
brought all my influence to bear to induce him to resign his
commission in the United States army, and my persuasions,
added to those of his father, finally induced him, very
reluctantly, to yield. It was a great grief for him to forsake the
uniform he had worn so long with honor, and to sever the
bonds which existed between him and his comrades. He much
doubted, too, the wisdom of the Southern States in
taking the action they did, and wished most sincerely that the
political difficulties which caused their secession could be
settled in some other manner than by an armed conflict.
As for me, I was perfectly wild on the subject of war; and
although I did not tell my husband so, I was resolved to forsake
him if he raised his sword against the South. I felt that now the
great opportunity of my life had arrived, and my mind was busy
night and day in planning schemes for making my name famous
above that of any of the great heroines of history, not even
excepting my favorite, Joan of Arc. Having decided to enter the
Confederate service as a soldier, I desired, if possible, to obtain
my husband's consent, but he would not listen to anything I had
to say on the subject; and all I could do was to wait his
departure for the seat of war, in order to put my plans into
execution without his knowledge, as I felt that it would be
useless to argue with him, although I was obstinately bent upon
realizing the dream of my life, whether he approved of my
course or not.
CHAPTER III.
ASSUMING MALE ATTIRE.
A Wedding Anniversary. — Preparing for my Husband's Departure for
the Seat of War. — My Desire to accompany him. — His Arguments
to dissuade me. — My First Appearance in Public in Male Attire. — A
Bar-room Scene. — Drinking Success to the Confederacy. — My First
Cigar. — A Tour of the Gambling-Houses and Drinking-Saloons. — The
unpleasant Points of Camp Life set forth in strong Colors. — Departure
of my Husband. — Donning Male Attire. — My First Suit of Male
Clothing. — Description of my Disguise. — The Practicability of a
Woman disguising herself effectively. — Some of the Features of Army
Life. — What Men think of Women Soldiers.
HE
fifth anniversary of our wedding was celebrated in a very quiet
fashion at the old Commercial Hotel, Memphis, Tennessee. We passed
the day pretty much in our own room, packing trunks and preparing for
my husband's departure for Richmond, where he expected to meet some
of his old army friends, such as General Robert E. Lee, General Reynolds,
Captain Bernard Bee, and Captain Cabell, who had linked their fortunes
with those of the South. His hardest struggle had been to throw off the
uniform he had so long worn; but, that deed having once been
consummated, it was not difficult for me to persuade him to offer his
sword to the South, especially when so many of his old friends of the
United States army were arraying themselves in antagonism to the
flag under which they had once fought.
While preparing for his departure, on the anniversary of our wedding,
we talked over the whole situation; and I cannot tell how proud and
delighted I felt when he attired himself in his elegant new gray
uniform. He never looked handsomer
in his life, and I not only gave full vent to my admiration, but
insisted upon broaching my favorite scheme again. My husband
desired me to go to Galveston, and to write to my father to meet
me there; but my heart was set upon accompanying him to the seat
of war, and I would listen to no other arrangement. He used every
possible argument to dissuade me from my purpose, representing the
difficulties and dangers in the darkest colors, and contending that it
would be impossible for him to permit his wife to follow an
undisciplined army of volunteers. The situation, he told me,
was entirely different from anything I had ever been accustomed to,
and that the hordes of rude, coarse men collected together in a camp
in an emergency like this, would have but little resemblance to the
regular troops in garrison with whom I had been familiar; and that
a delicately nurtured and refined woman would find camp life, during
such a war as that just commencing, simply intolerable. He was
not to be persuaded, while I turned a deaf ear to all his remonstrances,
and persisted in arguing the point with him to the last.
First Assumption Of Male Attire.
Finally, my husband, finding that his words made no impression,
thought he would be able to cure me of my erratic fancies
by giving me an insight into some of the least pleasing features of
masculine life. The night before his departure, therefore, he
permitted me to dress myself in one of his suits, and said
he would take me to the bar-rooms and other places of male resort,
and show me something of what I would be compelled to go through
with if I persisted in unsexing myself. Braiding my hair very close,
I put on a man's wig, and a false mustache, and by tucking my
pantaloons in my boots, as I had seen men do frequently, and otherwise
arranging the garments, which were somewhat large for me, I
managed to transform myself into a very presentable man. As I surveyed
myself in the mirror I was immensely pleased with the figure I cut, and
fancied that I made quite as good looking a man as my husband. My
toilet once completed, it was not long before we were in the street, I
doing my best to walk with a masculine gait, and to behave as if I had
been accustomed to wear pantaloons all my life. I confess, that when
it actually came to the point of appearing in public in this sort of
attire, my heart began to fail me a little; but I was bent on going
through with the thing, and so, plucking up courage, I strode along
by the side of my husband with as unconcerned an air as it was
possible for me to put on.
Presently we crossed over to a bar-room, which we found nearly
filled with men smoking and drinking, and doing some pretty tall
talking about the war, and the style in which the Yankees were
going to be wiped out. To judge by the conversation, every man
present was full of fight, and was burning with a furious desire to
meet the enemy. I was too frightened and bewildered by the
novelty of my situation to pay very close attention to all I saw and
heard, but it flashed upon me that some of these loud-talking,
hard-drinking, and blaspheming patriots were not so valiant, after all, as
they professed to be. My after experiences fully confirmed my first
impressions, that the biggest talkers are not always the
best fighters, and that a good many men will say things over a
glass of whiskey in a bar-room, who won't do a tenth part of what
they say if they are once placed within smelling distance of
gunpowder.
I had scarcely time to take a good look at the room and its
occupants, when my husband caught sight of a couple of men who
had belonged to his regiment, and who were very particular friends
of mine. I was dreadfully afraid they would recognize me, but there
was no escaping from them, as they came up so soon as they saw
us, and I was introduced as a young fellow who was on a visit to
Memphis to see the sights and to pick up war news.
Treating.
My husband treated, he and his two comrades taking something
strong, while I, in accordance with the instructions given me before
starting out, called for a glass of cider, only a part of which I
imbibed. After a little conversation, my husband whispered to me to
call for the next treat. I was getting to be somewhat disgusted with
the whole business, but was bound not to break down; so, stepping
up to the bar, I invited the party, with as masculine a manner as I
could put on, to drink with me. This time I took a glass of
sarsaparilla, and when all had their drinks poured out, raising my
tumbler, I cried out, "Gentlemen, here's to the success of our young
Confederacy."
As I said this, my heart was almost ready to jump out of
my throat. The men, however, gave a rousing cheer, and one
of them yelled out, "We drink that toast every time,
young fellow."
He then put his hand into his pocket, as if about to get his
money to pay for the drinks, but I prevented him, saying, "Excuse
me, sir, this is my treat," and laid a twenty dollar gold piece
on the counter. Each of us then took a cigar, I watching to see
how they managed theirs before daring to put mine in my mouth.
After I had gotten a light, I was not able to take more than
three or four whiffs, for my head began to swim, and I knew if
I kept on I should soon be deathly sick. As it was, I did not
feel at all comfortable, but thought I could bear up, and said
nothing for fear of being laughed at.
I was very glad to get out of the bar-room, and into the
fresh air again; so, bidding our friends good night, we started
off, I throwing my cigar away at the first opportunity I had of
doing so without being observed. Eager to hear my husband's
opinion, I asked him if he did not think I played my part pretty
well. He replied, "O, yes;" but I could see that he was very
much dissatisfied with the whole performance. Before
returning to the hotel we made a general tour of the city,
visiting all the principal gambling-houses and saloons, my
husband evidently hoping I should be so shocked with what I
saw and heard that I should be ready to give up my wild
scheme without further talk about it.
When we were once more in our room he locked the door,
and, throwing himself on the lounge, said, "Well, don't you feel
pretty much disgusted?"
To please him I said, "Yes;" adding, however, "but then I
can stand anything to be with you, and to serve the sunny
South."
"Now, Loreta," said he, "I have done this to-night for the
purpose of showing you what men are like, and how they
behave themselves when they are out of the sight and hearing
of decent women, whom they are forced to respect. What you
have seen and heard, however, is nothing to what you will
be compelled to see and hear in camp, where men are entirely
deprived of female society, and are under the most
demoralizing influences. The language that will constantly greet
your ears, and the sights that will meet your eye in camp,
where thousands of men are congregated, are simply
indescribable; and it is out of all reason that you should even
think of associating in the manner you propose with soldiers
engaged in warfare."
This, with a good deal of the same kind of talk, convinced me that
he would never give his consent to my project; so I pretended to be
satisfied with his arguments, but was, nevertheless, resolved more
firmly than ever, so soon as he took his departure, to put my plans
into execution. I waited impatiently for him to leave, intending to
give him a genuine surprise when next we met, and to show him that
his wife was as good a soldier as he, and was bent upon doing as
much or more for the cause which both had at heart. For the
present, however, I said nothing concerning my intentions.
My Husband's Departure.
On the 8th of April my husband started for Richmond,
apparently under the impression that, as I had said nothing for
several days about accompanying him, I had abandoned all notion
of doing so. He ought to have known me better, and to have been
assured that a woman of my obstinate temper was not to be
prevented by mere argument from carrying out a pet scheme which
promised such glorious results as the one we had been discussing.
My husband's farewell kisses were scarcely dry upon my lips,
when I made haste to attire myself in one of his suits, and to
otherwise disguise myself as a man, as well as was practicable with
such material as I had at hand. The first thing to be done before I
made any attempt to play a masculine rôle at all prominently in public
was, of course, to get some properly fitting clothing. Exactly how to
accomplish this without being discovered, or at least suspected, was
the great problem now before me. Everything depended, I well knew,
upon starting right; and the slightest suspicion at this time, in the
mind of any one who happened to see or speak to me, might, and
probably would, interfere materially with the success of my
operations in the future. I had, however, some time before taken
notice of a small tailor's shop on a retired street not very far from the
hotel, the presiding genius of which was a not very brilliant-looking
German, and I thought perhaps I might run the gantlet of his
scrutiny without much fear of detection, especially as I proposed to
leave Memphis at as early a day as possible after obtaining my male
raiment.
I accordingly went to this German tailor, and ordered two uniform
suits, for which I agreed to pay him eighty-five dollars each. As he
took my measure he eyed me pretty close, and seemed to imagine
that something was not quite right. I was dreadfully afraid he would
discover me to be a woman, but resolved, if he did, that I would
endeavor to silence him with a handsome bribe for a few days, until
he got my suits done and I could leave the city, trusting to be able to
disguise myself thereafter so effectually that he would not recognize
me again, even if he saw me.
"Ah," said the tailor, looking at me rather sharply, "what you want
to go to war for? You is too young for the fightin'; isn't you? What
your mammy say to that, eh?"
I replied, with as careless an air as I could possibly assume, that I
was twenty-two years of age, and was a graduate of West Point,
following up this information with other fictitious statements which it
somewhat staggered me to utter, and which, if he had been a trifle
sharper, he would have had some difficulty in crediting.
He, however, was satisfied, or appeared to be, and promised to
have the clothing ready in two days. I was afraid to tell him to pad
the coat all around in such a manner as to conceal my feminine
shape; this I was compelled to do myself after I got possession of
the clothing. With a little alteration, however, the coats and
pantaloons made by the German tailor at Memphis answered my
immediate purpose, and enabled me to get under way with my grand
scheme, but my disguise was really not perfected until I reached
New Orleans, and was able to command facilities greater than
Memphis afforded.
My Disguise.
As this seems to be a very proper point in my narrative for a
description of the means adopted for the concealment of my sex,
while I was doing duty in the Confederate army as an officer, I will
gratify the curiosity of the reader in that matter before proceeding
any farther with the story of my adventures.
My coats were heavily padded in the back and under the arms to
the hips, until I reached New Orleans. This served to disguise my
shape; but the padding was very uncomfortable, and I soon made up
my mind that it would never do for a permanent arrangement. So
soon as I got to New Orleans, I
went to an old French army tailor in Barrack Street, who I knew
was very skillful, and who understood how to mind his own
business by not bothering himself too much about other people's
affairs, and had him make for me half a dozen fine wire net shields.
These I wore next to my skin, and they proved very satisfactory in
concealing my true form, and in giving me something of the shape of
a man, while they were by no means uncomfortable. Over the
shields I wore all undershirt of silk or lisle thread, which fitted
close, and which was held in place by straps across the chest and
shoulders, similar to the shoulder-braces sometimes worn by men. A
great many officers in the Confederate army have seen the
impressions of these straps through my shirt when I have had my
coat off, and have supposed them to be shoulder-braces. These
undershirts could be rolled up into the small compass of a collar-box.
Around the waist of each of the undershirts was a band, with
eyelet-holes arranged for the purpose of making the waistbands of my
pantaloons stand out to the proper number of inches. A woman's
waist, as a general thing, is tapering, and her hips very large in
comparison with those of a man, so that if I had undertaken to wear
pantaloons without some such contrivance, they would have
drawn in at the waist and revealed my true form. With such
underwear as I used, any woman who can disguise her features can
readily pass for a man, and deceive the closest observers. So many
men have weak and feminine voices that, provided the clothing is
properly constructed and put on right, and the disguise in other
respects is well arranged, a woman with even a very high-pitched
voice need have very little to fear on that score. One of the princpal
causes of my detection, after having successfully passed myself off
as a man to thousands of keen-eyed observers, under
circumstances where everything was against the concealment of
my sex, was, that my apparatus got out of order, so that I was forced
to dispense with it. I was to blame, too, for permitting myself to grow
careless, and not always being on my guard.
There were several points about my disguise which were strictly
my own invention, and which, for certain good and sufficient
reasons, I do not care to give to the public. These added greatly to
its efficiency. Indeed, after I had once become accustomed to male
attire, and to appearing before anybody and everybody in it, I lost
all fear of being found out, and learned to act, talk, and almost to
think as a man. Many
a time, when in camp, I have gone to sleep when from fifty to
sixty officers have been lying close together wrapped in their
blankets, and have had no more fear of detection than I had of
drinking a glass of water.
Camp Life.
The style of conversation that was common in camp, and the kind
of stories told around our fires at night, I will leave to the reader's
imagination, hoping, however, that he or she has not imagination
enough to compass anything so utterly vile. My favorite amusement
was a game of cards, and I preferred this way of entertaining myself,
and of beguiling the weary hours, to listening to anecdotes which
could only debase my mind. Anything relating to military affairs, to
social science, to the deeds of great men or women, or whatever else
I could improve myself by listening to, I took great delight in. From
my earliest recollection, however, I have had a thorough distaste for
vulgarity of language and profanity, and my camp experiences only
tended to increase my disgust at the blackguardism which many men
are so fond of indulging in. The manner in which too many men are in
the habit of referring to the other sex in conversation among
themselves is, in my opinion, thoroughly despicable; and I really
think that it would be morally and intellectually beneficial to many of
my sex, especially those who are the victims of masculine
viciousness, if they could only listen to some such conversations as
I have been compelled to listen to, and learn how little respect or real
regard of any kind men have for them.
I would that God would put it into my power to utter such a
warning as would be heeded, to the weak and erring of my sex, and
which would enable them to fortify themselves against the
temptations constantly assailing them. But I suppose no warning
would prevent those who are disposed to sin from doing so,
although I well know that women, and men too, can resist temptation,
and can avoid vileness in living and in language if they will only
choose to do so. I do not pretend to say that I am possessed of
firmer nerves, or am less under the influence of the natural emotions
of my sex, than many others; but my strong constitution, and the
perfect health I enjoyed, enabled me to endure more fatigue and
hardship than most women, while my firm-mindedness, and resolute
determination to carry my point, enabled me to avoid anything like
laxity
of conduct. I was compelled to sink my sex entirely, for the least
inadvertence would have thwarted my plans, and prevented the
realization of all I aimed at.
Many and many a time has the subject of women serving in the
army as soldiers been discussed at the mess-tables and around the
camp-fires; and officers, who have been in my company for days,
and weeks, and months, have boasted, with very masculine
positiveness, that no woman could deceive them, little suspecting
that one was even then listening to them. I have sometimes been
asked my opinion on the subject; but have generally answered
evasively, without expressing, in very decided terms, my ideas one
way or the other. Some of the men with whom I have been associated
have spoken in respectful and even commendatory terms concerning
women serving as soldiers; but too many have had nothing but
vileness to utter on the subject. I can never forget, although I may
forgive, the disgraceful language which some of these individuals
have used with regard to this matter; and my experiences in the army
will not have been in vain, even if they have taught me nothing more
than the utter contemptibleness of some individuals, whom it would
be a stretch of courtesy to call gentlemen.
CHAPTER IV.
DISGUISED AS A CONFEDERATE OFFICER.
Preparing a military Outfit. — Consultations with a Friend. — Argument
against any proposed Plan of Action. — Assuming the Uniform of a
Confederate Officer. — A Scene in a Barber's Shop. — How young Men try
to make their Beards grow. — Taking a social Drink. — A Game of
Billiards. — In a Faro Bank. — Some War Talk. — Drinks all around. — The
End of an exciting Day. — Making up a Complexion. — A false
Mustache. — Final Preparations. — Letters from Husband and
Father. — Ready to start for the Seat of War.
ITHIN
three days I managed to provide myself with a very complete
military outfit; quite sufficient to enable me to commence operations
without delay, which was the main thing I was after, for I was
exceedingly anxious to carry out a magnificent idea I had in my mind,
and to present myself before my husband, under such auspices that he
could no longer find an excuse for refusing his consent to my joining the
Southern army as a soldier. My uniform suit having been arranged for, it was
an easy matter for me to procure the rest of my outfit without
unduly attracting attention, and I soon had in my room a trunk
well packed with the wearing apparel of an army officer, and
neatly marked upon the outside with the name I had concluded to adopt.
Lieutenant H. T. Buford, C. S. A.
When I saw the trunk with this name upon it as large as
life, my heart fairly jumped for joy, and I felt as if the dream
of my life were already more than half realized. There was a
good deal, however, to be done before I could move any
farther in this momentous affair, and while waiting for the tailor to
send my uniform suit, I thought and planned until my head fairly
ached. At length I hit upon a method of arranging my financial
matters which I judged would prove satisfactory, and concluded
to call in a gentleman who was a very old and intimate friend of both my
husband and myself, and demand his assistance.
Harry T. Buford
1st Lt Indpt Scouts C.S.A.
[Signed]
A Friend In Need.
This friend, in whom I knew full reliance could be placed, came to
my room immediately upon my summons, and having first sworn him
to secrecy, I made a full revelation with regard to what I proposed to
do. He turned deadly pale when I informed him of my intention to
disguise myself as a man, and to enter the army on exactly the same
footing as other combatants; but, having recovered from his first
astonishment and dismay, he tried to treat the whole matter as a
jest, and evidently believed that I was either a little demented, or was
indulging in an absurd bit of pleasantry. He was convinced,
however, that I really meant business, when he saw the trunk with
my military pseudonyme upon it, the male garments which the tailor
had just sent home, and the accoutrements I had purchased within the
past two or three days.
As I had anticipated, he thought it his duty to endeavor to
persuade me to abandon my wild ideas, as he called them. He went
over all the arguments my husband had used, adding a great many
of his own, and painted military associations in the blackest and most
repulsive colors. He might as well have talked to the wind, for my
heart was fixed on achieving fame, and of accomplishing even
more than the great heroines of history had been able to do. I turned
a deaf ear to all his remonstrances, and the only answer I gave to his
pleadings that I would abandon the thought of unsexing myself, was
to insist upon his aid. This he finally promised to give, although most
reluctantly, when he found that nothing he could say would move
me from my purpose.
My friend suggested that the first thing to be done was, for me to
leave the hotel; so, sending for a man, he had my trunk and military
equipments carried to the house in which he occupied apartments.
My other baggage was prepared for removal, and was taken away to
be stored in a place of safety until I should need it again, which I
hoped would not
be very soon. After paying my bill, and giving the proprietor to
understand that I was about to leave the city, my friend managed
to get me into my new quarters without my being observed by
anyone. Telling me that he would take care to prevent any
interruption while I was making my toilet, he retired and left
me to myself.
I immediately proceeded to change my garments, and ere a
great many minutes had elapsed, I was transformed into a
man, so far as it was possible for clothing to transform me.
When I was ready I called my friend, and asked his opinion of
the figure I cut. He admitted that I was not a bad looking
specimen of a man, considering I had only been about five
minutes, and thought that in time I should be able to do credit
to the name I bore and the clothes I wore.
The only regret I had in making up my disguise, was the
necessity for parting with my long and luxuriant hair. This gave
me a real pang; but there was no help for it, and I submitted
with as good a grace as I could muster, while my friend played
the part of tonsorial artist with a pair of shears. He trimmed
my hair tolerably close, and said that it would answer until I
could visit a barber's shop with him, and be initiated into some
of the mysteries of such a peculiarly masculine place of resort.
Before going to the barber's, however, he made me promenade
the room, practising a masculine gait, until I had acquired it
tolerably well, and gave me a great number of very minute
instructions about the proper manner of conducting myself so
that my sex would not be suspected. He particularly enjoined
me to watch his actions closely at the barber's, in the drinking
saloons, the billiard rooms, and the other places he intended
conducting me to, for the purpose of informing me with regard
to some masculine habits and ways of acting, talking, and
thinking.
At The Barber's
A carriage having been sent for, we were driven to the
shop or an old Virginian negro barber, whom my friend was
accustomed to patronize. Entering first, he took off his hat and
coat, and hung them up, and throwing himself into one of the
barber's chairs, asked to have his hair trimmed and his face
shaved. I followed his movements as closely as I was able,
and was soon in my shirt sleeves and in possession of another
chair, with an obsequious colored individual standing
over me, vigorously mixing lather in a cup, which he evidently
intended to apply to my face, notwithstanding that I had not the
least sign of a beard. I was very much amused, but also a trifle
frightened at this manoeuvre, for I really did not want to have my face
scraped with a razor, and yet scarcely knew whether it would be the
correct thing to decline going through the performance. My friend
saw the dilemma I was in, and came to the rescue, by informing the
barber that his young friend only wanted to have his hair trimmed in
the latest style. The negro took the hint, but grinned a little as he put
away the shaving apparatus, at which I was almost inclined to
believe that he had suspicions with regard to me.
I was somewhat reassured, however, and at the same time gained a
bit of information with regard to certain masculine traits, when, as he
commenced to trim my hair, he said, "De young gemmen in de
military always likes to be shaved, sah, even if dey hasn't any beard.
Dey tinks dat it helps to make de beard grow, sah;" and then he
laughed heartily, as if he thought he was getting off a first-rate joke
at the expense of a large and important class of his customers. For my
own part I appreciated the joke immensely, in spite of the
embarrassment under which I labored, and assured my colored
friend that I had no disposition to force my beard, but thought that it
would come of itself in course of time without assistance. The barber
took this view of the case himself, and intimated confidentially that
in his opinion a good many young fellows in their haste to get
beards before nature intended that they should have any, not only
give themselves considerable unnecessary pain by hacking their
chins with awkwardly handled razors, but interfered materially with
the proper and graceful growth of the hirsute adornment when it did
begin to make its appearance.
I was entertained, and not a little edified, by the talk with which the
barber regaled me while he was cutting my hair; and, as it was evident
from his manner that he took me for a young man, I was greatly
reassured with regard to the success of my disguise, and left
the shop with an increased confidence in my ability to play the part
I had assumed. I was the more encouraged as my friend, when we
were once more in the street, told me that I had conducted myself
first rate, although he warned me that he was about to take me to a
number of places with which I would not be so well pleased as I had
been with the barber's shop, and in which I would be
compelled to be constantly on my guard. He advised me to
watch closely what he did, to treat to drinks or cigars after him,
but not to take part in any games.
Strolling down the street, we soon came to the hotel, and
entered the bar-room, where my companion met a number of
friends, to whom he introduced me as a young officer on his
way to the seat of war. I was received with much cordiality,
and the whole party speedily engaged in an animated
conversation about the coming conflict. I said as little as
possible, but tried to take part in the discussion, when I was
compelled to speak, in as easy and natural a manner as I could
without unduly obtruding myself. Of course, as soon as the first
introductions were over, somebody suggested drinks. The men
all took whiskey straight; but I did not venture on anything
stronger than cider. Soon my companion managed to give me
a quiet hint, and I treated the party to drinks and cigars. We
then adjourned to the billiard-room, and my friend, taking off
his coat, went at a game in good earnest with another member of
the party. I had never seen the game of billiards played before,
and I soon became intensely interested in watching, from a chair
in which I sat in my shirt sleeves, pretending to smoke my cigar,
the balls rolling over the table. As the weather was warm, I very
soon, after entering the billiard-room, availed myself of what
seemed to be the custom of the place, to take off my heavily
padded coat, which began to be unbearable, and found myself
much more at my ease sitting in my shirt sleeves.
A Visit To A Faro Bank.
The players kept pushing the balls about, until nearly one
o'clock in the morning, I sitting all the time watching them
intently, and endeavoring to obtain some idea of the game.
When one o'clock struck, my friend proposed that we should go
to a faro bank; and although I was both sleepy and tired, for it
was long after my usual hour for retiring, and I was pretty well
used up with the excitement of the day, I felt bound to do
whatever my instructor in masculine manners desired me. I
knew what the game of faro was, for my father's country
people are all extravagantly fond of sports of every kind, while
in the army, especially upon lonely frontier stations, a game of
cards is frequently the only diversion that officers
have. Both before and after my
marriage, therefore, I had been accustomed to card-playing,
and was familiar with all the principal games. although
there were some, like faro, used only for gambling purposes,
which I had never seen played in a regular manner.
Before entering the faro bank, my companion cautioned
me not, under any circumstances, at the present or any future
time, to take part in games like faro, or to drink any strong
liquor. Card-playing for money, he said, I could avoid with
tolerable ease, but I would frequently be so situated that I
would be compelled to drink, and that I had better at once
establish a reputation for temperance, and only take
something that could not possibly intoxicate. If it was once
understood that I never touched whiskey, brandy, or even
wine, I could manage to get along very well, even with hard
drinkers, and would very seldom be troubled by being forced
to imbibe when I did not wish to do so, while all sensible
people would respect me. My friend liked very well to take
something stronger than water himself, but he felt that what
would do for him would not do for me, and that even a very
slight indiscretion with regard to such a matter as this might get
me into serious trouble and thwart all my plans. His present
object was simply to show me some points of masculine life,
which it was important I should be acquainted with in order
that I might play my part with entire success; for, having
failed to dissuade me from my grand scheme, he was
exceedingly solicitous that I should acquit myself with credit,
and get through without tarnishing my fair fame.
The faro bank was crowded with men, some deeply
interested in the play, others looking on, and others standing
about talking and drinking. The majority of the men in the
room were civilians; but not a few officers, in their brilliant
uniforms, were present, and the war seemed to be the one
topic of conversation. My friend immediately recognized a
number of acquaintances, to whom he introduced me.
Among others was a major, who, I thought, eyed me pretty
close, but who did not address me particularly, except to
exchange the ordinary civilities. This officer, after we had
been conversing a few moments, proposed that we should
take a drink, and the whole party went up to the bar. All but
myself called for brandy; I took cider. Whereupon the major
said, with a smile, "Lieutenant, you don't appear to be a heavy
drinker?"
"No," replied my friend for me, "he is quite temperate;
and it's just as good for him. If he don't begin to drink strong
stuff, he'll never want to."
"That's so," said the major; "hard drinking is a bad habit,
and I wish sometimes I hadn't acquired it; but when a
fellow's in camp, and cut off from civilization, he is apt to take
more than is good for him; and when he once gets a start in
that way, it is hard to stop." Then turning to me, he said,
"What part of the country do you come from?"
"He has just returned from the North," put in my friend.
"Ah, indeed!" said the major. "To what command are you
attached, sir?"
"To none, as yet," I replied.
Said my friend, "He is a West-Pointer, and has made up his
mind to do some fighting for the South."
"The devil he is!" remarked the major, shaking me heartily
by the hand; "I am glad to find him on the right side. This is
the kind of fellow we want, and, with a few more of the same
sort, we will whip the Yankees inside of ninety days."
Some War Talk.
In a few moments a dozen or more men were gathered
around, eagerly shaking my hand and plying me with all kinds of
questions. They made such a decided demonstration, that I
began to be a little frightened, but stood my ground valiantly,
and replied to their queries the best I was able.
Said one, "What do the Yankees think of us people down
South?"
"Why," replied I, "most persons say that there will be no
fighting, and I do not think they want to fight if they can help
it."
"We'll show them about the fighting," said another.
"Yes, lieutenant," said a third, "one Southerner can whip
any ten they send down here, and will do it in thirty days at
the farthest."
The major now asked, "What do you think about foreign intervention?"
This was something I had never given even a thought to; but
I answered very boldly, and in a style that I thought would be
appreciated by my auditors, "We don't want any
foreign help in a war like this. I reckon we can manage to do
our own fighting."
"That's the kind of talk," cried the major.
There was considerable more conversation of this kind,
during which the drinking went on pretty freely, I treating the
same as the rest, but being careful not to take anything that
would upset me. I informed them that it was my intention to
recruit and equip a company at my own expense in
Rackensack, on the Mississippi, among the country people,
and that I had eighty-eight thousand dollars with which to see
myself through. This made a great impression, and the major
remarked, "You are going to just the right place. The boys
down there are first-rate marksmen, and you won't have
any trouble in getting as many of them as you want."
The major by this time was pretty full, and he proposed to
show me the sights, if I would make a night of it with him.
I thanked him, but said that as it was very late, and I was tired
from travelling, I would like to retire. My friend seconded
my efforts to get away; which we did finally, after some
further argument with my new acquaintances, the major
especially showing a disposition to insist upon my going with
him to see what he called the sights. Finally we reached the
house, where my friend put me into his room, while he went
and took possession of another apartment occupied by a
friend. It was after four o'clock when I went to sleep,
pretty well used up with the excitement and unusual exertion
which my masculine début had caused me.
The next day I completed my outfit by purchasing a pair of
field-glasses, a pair of blankets, a rubber overcoat, and a
rubber blanket. On returning to my room I made out a form
of attorney in my friend's name, and authorized him to attend
to all my business matters for me. I also prepared a lot of
recruiting papers on the model of some genuine ones
I succeeded in getting hold of, and some muster rolls, and
procured a manual of tactics, and before the day was over,
was pretty nearly ready to commence active operations.
My friend, thinking that my disguise could be somewhat
improved, and a more manly air given to my countenance,
obtained a false mustache, and a solution with which to stain my
face, in order to make it look tanned. I rubbed on the solution
until my skin was about the right tint, and then my friend
carefully fastened the mustache on my upper lip with glue.
This was a very great improvement, and I scarcely
knew myself when I looked in the glass, and laughed at the thought
of what my husband would say when he saw me in this disguise.
During the day I received two letters; one from my father,
informing me that he was about to return to Cuba, which
relieved my anxiety lest he should come after me, and the other
dated Vicksburg, from my husband. In my reply to the latter, I stated
that I was going to Texas, for the purpose of accompanying my
father to Cuba. This I thought would prevent my husband from
being apprehensive with regard to me, and enable me to get matters
under good headway before he could interfere, for I was extremely
anxious to give him a first-rate surprise.
Everything was now in proper trim for me to commence
operations in earnest; so, packing my trunk, rolling up my blankets in
army style, as I had often seen soldiers do, preparing my papers, and
getting ready a change of underwear, and other matters for immediate
use in a small satchel, I was ready to start on my campaign with as
stout a heart as ever beat in the breast of a soldier.
CHAPTER V.
RECRUITING.
My Plan of Action. — On the War Path. — In Search of Recruits in
Arkansas. — The Giles Homestead. — Sensation caused by a Soldier's
Uniform. — A prospective Recruit. — Bashful Maidens. — A
nice little Flirtation. — Learning how to be agreeable to the Ladies. —
A Lesson in masculine Manners. — A terrible Situation. — Causeless Alarm.
— The young Lady becoming sociable. — A few matrimonal Hints. — The
successful Commencement of a Soldier's Career. — Anticipations of future
Glory. — Dreamless Slumbers.
HE
plan of action I had fixed upon, after mature reflection, was to raise
and equip a battalion at my own expense, taking care to select good
material for it, and then to appear at the head of my little army before my
husband, and to offer him the command. I pictured to myself again
and again the look of astonishment he would put on when he recognized
his wife as the leader of a gallant band who were pledged to fight to
the death for the cause of Southern independence, and flattered myself
with the idea that, so far from being
inclined to censure me for my obstinate persistence in
carrying out my idea of becoming a soldier, he would be
disposed to praise without reservation, and so far from being
ashamed of my action, would be proud of it. Whatever view
of the matter he might take, however, he would be
compelled to yield to my wishes, whether he desired to do so
or not, and I would consequently be free to follow the bent of
my inclinations without fear of further opposition on his part.
My desire was to serve with him, if possible; but if this could
not be done, I intended to play my part in the war in my own way,
without his assistance. I, however, did not contemplate any
further difficulty in obtaining his consent, and even his assistance, in
the execution of my plans, and so started out on the war-path with a
light heart, and with brilliant anticipations for the future.
With my satchel, containing a change of under-clothing and a
few other traps, in my hand, I crossed over to Hopefield, on the
Arkansas side of the river, and took the five o'clock train, not
knowing exactly where I proposed to bring up. For a time I busied
myself with the study of my Manual of Tactics, with the intention of
becoming sufficiently posted on certain points to get my recruits into
something like military training immediately. Having been the wife of
an army officer for a number of years, and having seen some hard
service on the frontier, I was, in a measure, pretty well qualified for
the work I had now undertaken, especially as I had paid a good deal
of attention to the details of military organizations, and had seen
soldiers drilled hundreds of times. I had not been in the train very
long, before, finding the conductor at leisure, I entered into
conversation with him, with a view of obtaining information that
might be useful in the furtherance of my designs.
Explaining to this individual, who appeared to take the liveliest
interest in my affairs, that I was on a recruiting expedition, I asked
him if he could not suggest a good neighborhood for me to
commence operations in. He said that Hurlburt Station was as likely
a place as I could find to pick up a company of strong, hearty
fellows, who would do some good fighting, and advised me to try
my luck there. Hurlburt, he told me, was not much of a place, — a saw-mill,
a country store, in which the post office was located, a school-house,
which was also used as a church, being pretty much all there
was of it. The country around, however, was tolerably well settled,
and most of the young men thereabouts would, he thought, be
rather glad of a chance to have a crack at the Yankees.
Hurlburt Station.
The train speeded through the swamps, and it was not a great
while before we reached Hurlburt Station, where, in accordance with
the conductor's suggestion, I alighted. With my satchel in my hand, I
made for the nearest house, and inquired of a negro, who was
chopping wood, whether his master
was at home. The darkey stared at me a bit, evidently attracted
by something in my appearance, and then, grinning until he showed
all his ivories, said that the old boss was away, but that the young
boss was about somewhere. I accordingly told him to call the young
boss; and soon up came a well-built, good-looking young fellow,
whom I fixed upon immediately as a suitable recruit. In response to
my inquiry whether I could stop there a few days, he said, with a
laugh, "I guess so, if you can stand our fare. We haven't any
accommodation for travellers, but pap never turns anybody away."
I replied, "I guess I can stand your fare, if you treat me well in
other respects."
"We'll do the best we can for you," he said. "Come in, and I'll
call mammy and the gals."
The house to which he conducted me was a rude affair,
constructed with logs daubed over with mud, and with only one
door, which appeared to have no other fastening than a wooden
latch. I quickly made up my mind that a smart young fellow like
Frank Giles — for such, he took occasion to inform me, was his
name — would not hesitate very long about making up his mind to
abandon these rather dismal surroundings, for the sake of
embracing such an opportunity for seeing something of the world,
and of participating in exciting adventures, as I proposed to offer
him.
As we entered the house, Frank bawled out at the top of his
voice, "Mammy, here's a man who wants to stop here."
The old woman put in an appearance in a moment or two, and
greeted me with a certain amount of cordiality, saying, in reply to
my request for board and lodging for four or five days, "Well, sir,
we're poor folks, and ain't got much to give you; but we'll do the
best we can, if you choose to stop with us."
I replied that I reckoned things would suit well enough, as I
wasn't hard to please, and, in compliance with an invitation to
make myself at home, took off my cap, and began to remove my
duster.
The old woman and the young fellow both stared at me with
open-mouthed astonishment when they saw my uniform, which,
up to this time, had been concealed by my long linen duster. When
they could recover themselves, they began to deluge me with
questions. The old woman seemed rather suspicious of me at first,
and evidently surmised that I
had some intention of carrying off Frank, and making a soldier
of him. As for Frank, the sight of my brass buttons fired him
with military ardor immediately, and I perceived that there
would be no difficulty whatever in securing his enlistment.
"I guess you're an officer; ain't you?" said Frank, following
up this question with another one before I could open my mouth
for a reply. "What are you going to do down here?"
"Yes, I am an officer, on a recruiting trip," I answered.
"What chance do you think I will have in getting some good
fighting fellows in this neighborhood?"
"What army do you belong to?" demanded Frank, apparently a little
dubious about the colors I fought under.
"To the army of Virginia," I replied.
"Then I reckon you are for the South?" said he.
"Certainly, sir," said I; "and you swear by the same
colors
that I do; don't you?"
"Of course I do." And then he commenced a perfect siege of
questions about what a soldier would have to do, how long was
the war going to last, would there be much fighting, and
expressed the liveliest desire to take a hand at licking the
Yankees.
I told him that I had the army regulations with me, and would
take pleasure in explaining them to him in the morning. I then
asked him to give me some water, so that I could clean myself
up a bit before supper, as I was pretty well covered with dust
and cinders after my ride. He accordingly got me a basin of
water, and then left me to go off and hunt the old man, full of
eagerness to tell him of the arrival of the recruiting officer, and
of his own desire to go soldiering.
A Sensation Among The Women.
The sudden intrusion of a gallant young officer, in a gay
uniform, plentifully decorated with buttons and lace, into the
Giles homestead, made an even greater impression on the female than
upon the male part of the family. My arrival had clearly created
an intense excitement, and I understood very well that I was
the subject of the whispered conversation
that I heard going on outside. From the manner in which the old
woman and her son had addressed me, I knew [torn page]
they
had
no suspicions of my being other than what I s [torn page]
but
I
judged that it would be necessary to be pretty
[torn page]
how I carried myself before the former, for she was clearly a
sharp one, and would be quick to take note of any peculiarly
feminine traits of manner I might display. I therefore
determined to play the man right manfully, whether I
thought myself observed or not; and this I found to be a very
good rule to go by throughout the entire period during which I
wore my disguise.
While making my toilet, I noticed the old woman and a
couple of girls peeping at me through a crack in the wall, and I
accordingly, without appearing to notice them, took pains to
strut about in as mannish a manner as I could, and to imitate a
man's actions and gestures while washing my face and hands
and arranging my hair.
After a bit, Mrs. Giles and her daughters came into the
room, the girls blushing up to their eyes, and dreadfully
abashed, at being compelled to go through with the ceremony
of an introduction to the handsome and gayly dressed young
officer. The eldest of the two daughters was about sixteen,
and was attired in a bright, flaring yellow calico; the
youngest was about twelve years of age, and was somewhat
less unbecomingly dressed in pink. Both of the girls had put
on the best they had to do honor to the occasion, and the
eldest, especially, so soon as her first bashfulness wore off,
seemed very much disposed to attract the particular attention
of the visitor by various little feminine artifices, which I
understood very well, and which amused me immensely.
On entering the room, the old woman said, awkwardly
waving her hands towards her daughters, "These is my gals,
sir."
I bowed in the politest manner, and said, with what I
intended to be a particularly fascinating smile, "Good
evening, ladies," laying a particular emphasis on the word "ladies;"
which had the desired effect, for both of the girls
blushed deeper than ever, and the eldest simpered as if she
heartily enjoyed it. The daughters, however, were too much
confused just yet to do a great deal in the way of conversation; so, for
the sake of sociability, and to put the entire party at their
ease, I started a talk with the old woman, by remarking that
it had been an exceedingly pleasant day.
"Yes," replied Mrs. Giles; "but the craps need rain."
After a few commonplaces of this kind about the weather,
[torn page]
other matters of no particular moment, I thought I might
[torn page]
proceed to business at once; for I expected that I
would have some opposition from the old woman in my effort to
enlist Frank. So I said, "Madam, I am trying to enlist your son
for a soldier in my company; don't you think you can spare him?"
She burst out crying, and exclaimed, "O, sir, I can't let my boy go
for a soldier and get killed."
The youngest girl, seeing her mother in tears, began to blubber a
little also; but the eldest not only did not cry, but she looked at me
in such a peculiar way, that I was convinced she wished I would
take her instead of Frank.
An Arkansas Belle.
The idea of having a mild little flirtation with this fair flower of the
Arkansas forest rather grew upon me as I noticed the impression I
was making upon her susceptible imagination. I had some curiosity
to know how love-making went from the masculine standpoint,
and thought that the present would be a good opportunity to gain
some valuable experience in that line; for it occurred to me that if I was
to figure successfully in the rôle of a dashing young Confederate
officer, it would be necessary for me to learn how to make myself
immensly agreeable to the ladies. I knew how to make myself
agreeable to the men, or thought I did, and I could, if I chose, be
agreeable to women in a feminine sort of fashion; but I had never
studied the masculine carriage towards my sex critically, with a view of
imitating it, and it was important, therefore, that I should begin at
once to do so, in order that when compelled to associate with
women, as I assuredly would be to a greater or less extent, I might
not belie my outward appearances by my conduct. I flatter myself
that during the time I passed for a man I was tolerably successful
with the women; and I had not a few curious and most amusing
adventures, which gave me an insight into some of the peculiarities
of feminine human nature which had not impressed themselves on
my mind before, perhaps because I was a woman.
My flirtation with Miss Sadie Giles was not a very savage one,
and I hope that it did not inflict more damage on her heart than it did
on mine. It was immensely amusing to me while it lasted, and I
presume, if not exactly amusing, it might at least be deemed
entertaining to her. At any rate, I succeeded not only in having a
little sly fun at her expense, but I picked up an idea or two that I
subsequently found useful.
Noticing that Miss Sadie was developing a marked partiality for
me, but was much too bashful to give me any encouragement,
except some shy glances out of the corners of her eyes, I
commenced to ogle her, and, whenever I had an opportunity, to pay
her some delicate attentions, for the purpose of making her think I
was just a bit fascinated with her. It soon became very evident that
the heart which beat under that yellow calico dress was in a great
state of excitement, and Miss Sadie, while not encouraging me by
any direct advances, made it very plainly understood that my little
attentions were appreciated.
While I was conversing with the old woman on the subject of
Frank's enlistment, and trying to convince her that it was better for
him to volunteer than to wait to be drafted, — following Miss Sadie
with my eyes all the while, and letting her see plainly that I was
thinking more of her than of her mother, — I heard the youngest
daughter, Fan, who had meanwhile left the room, saying to her father
that there was a soldier in the house who had come to take Frank
away to the war. The old man made his appearance a moment later, and,
shaking me very cordially by the hand, gave me a hearty welcome,
and apologized for the meagreness of the accommodations he was
able to offer. I judged from his manner and from his language that he
had seen better days, and that his education was much superior to
that of his wife and children.
Supper was now announced, and we all sat down to a tolerably
plentiful repast, the principal features of which were bacon, cabbage,
and fried chickens — the latter having been prepared in my honor.
Miss Sadie managed to place herself by my side, by a dexterous
little manoeuvre, which escaped the attention of the family, but
which I understood perfectly. I, for my part, strove to play the
gallant by helping her bountifully to the bacon, cabbage, and
chicken, and by endeavoring to induce her to join in the
conversation. She undoubtedly appreciated my attentions at their
full value, but was not sufficiently self-possessed to do much
talking; indeed, during the supper I could scarcely get anything out
of her except a timid yes or no.
The old man, on the contrary, was very talkative, and plied me
with all kinds of questions about myself, my errand, the war, and
the prospect of a speedy accomplishment of Southern
independence. I told him that my name was Buford, that I was a
lieutenant in the army, and that I had been sent down
to Arkansas for the purpose of recruiting a company for service in
Virginia. He said that I would have no difficulty in getting all the
recruits I wanted, as the young fellows in those parts were every
one eager to have a dash at the Yankees, and promised to aid me in
every way possible.
The apartment in which the supper was served was about ten by
twelve feet, and was used as a kitchen as well as dining and
sleeping-room. Everything about it was dreadfully dirty, and the table at which
we were eating, and the bench upon which Miss Sadie and myself
were seated, were both so greasy that I was much afraid of
seriously soiling my new clothes; and I do not doubt that my agitation
on this subject was attributed by the yellow-calico clad damsel
beside me to the close proximity in which I was placed to her. I ate
heartily of the viands that were set before me, paying more attention,
however, to the chicken than to the greasy bacon and cabbage,
which latter, however, were eaten with great gusto by my entertainers.
My Mustache In Danger.
Before the supper was over I had a terrible fright, and for a few
moments fancied that I was on the brink of a discovery that would
upset all my plans, and nip my enterprise in the bud. While drinking a
glass of buttermilk, which I greatly enjoyed, for it was the best thing
on the table, and was most refreshing, my mustache got full of the
fluid, and when I attempted to wipe this ornament, which my
Memphis friend had so carefully glued upon my upper lip, and which
added so much to the manliness of my countenance, I fancied that it
was loose and was about to fall off. Here was a terrible situation, and
I cannot undertake to describe what I felt. To say that I was
frightened, scarcely gives an idea of the cold chills that ran down my
back. The ridicule of my entertainers, and especially of Miss Sadie,
was the least thing that I feared, and I would rather brave any number
of perils at the cannon's mouth than to repeat the emotions of that
dreadful moment. Such a situation as this is ludicrous enough, but it
was not a bit funny for me at that time; and I was on pins and needles
until I could get away, and take means to secure the mustache firmly
on again. I managed, however, to keep a straight countenance, and to
join in the conversation with a tolerable degree of equanimity,
keeping my hand up to my mouth all the time though, and doing my
best to hold the mustache
on. My fright, after all, was causeless, for on examination I found
that the hair was too firmly glued to my lip to be easily
removed; indeed, I subsequently discovered that it was
practically impossible to move it without the aid of alcohol.
After supper, the old man and Frank went off to finish up
their work before going to bed, and the women folks busied
themselves in clearing the dishes. I had thus a little time to
myself, and took advantage of it, first of all, to ascertain about
the security of my mustache. To my intense relief I found it
as fast as if it actually grew on my lip; and so, with a light
heart, I returned to the house, and joined the old woman and the
girls.
During the supper, the elder Giles nearly monopolized the
conversation, and scarcely gave his wife and children a
chance to put a word in edgewise. I saw very plainly that
the old woman was worried at the prospect of losing Frank,
and consequently prepared to sustain a heavy siege of queries
and expostulations from her. Leaving the girls to finish putting
away the supper things, she seated herself in the corner, and
began pulling vigorously at a pipe filled with some very
strong-smelling tobacco, which was far from grateful to my
nostrils.
After a variety of inquiries about the war, the duties of a
soldier, the chances of being killed, the amount of pay a soldier
received, and like matters, she asked whether I had any parents.
I replied that my father was living.
"Ain't he opposed to your going to the war?" said she.
"O, no," I answered; "he knows that it is what a military
man must expect; and he not only wants me to go, but he will
be disappointed if I do not see some hard fighting, and have a
chance to distinguish myself."
"Are you married?" was the next query.
"No, madam," I replied, giving a sharp look at Sadie, who
made a pause in her rattling of the dishes to hear what I
would say; "I am one of the unfortunate single men."
"You are much better off, young man," struck in the old
man Giles, who just then came in; and throwing himself on
the bench, began to smoke a very strong pipe rather
furiously.
Hearing the girls giggle at this, I glanced over my shoulder,
and seeing that Miss Sadie had finished her work, and was
apparently anxious to be better acquainted with me, I politely
arose and offered her my raw-hide chair. This she blushingly
declined, but took a wooden stool, upon which she seated herself
quite close to me. I could think of nothing so likely to loosen her
tongue, and make her properly sociable, as a reference to religious
matters; so I asked her if there were any churches in the neighborhood.
She said that there was no regular church, but that on Sundays
a preacher held forth in the school-house; and then, without much
difficulty, we got into quite a discussion about religion, and from that
to other matters of more immediate interest, if not of so much
permanent importance. The old man, I presume, was rather tired, and
so, taking advantage of this change of subject in our conversation,
he went to bed, and soon was snoring lustily. Finally, Miss Sadie got
back to what was the subject uppermost in her thoughts, and began
questioning me about my own affairs, by asking if I had any
brothers.
"Yes," I replied; "one, older than myself, who is more fortunate,
for he is married," — giving a look at her out of the corner of my eye,
which I intended her to understand as an intimation that, although
not married, I had no objections to being so if I could find a girl to
suit me.
"You ought to be married, too," said Miss Sadie, with a simper,
and apparently appreciating this kind of conversation much better
than the war talk the old man and I had been indulging in.
"How can I get married when none of the girls will have me?" I
retorted.
"You git out," was the rather irrelevant remark Miss Sadie made
at this point, but giving me no reason to believe that she meant her
words to be construed literally.
The old woman thinking, I suppose, to flatter me, said, "A
handsome young fellow like you, with, I dare say, a pretty fair
education, needn't be afraid of the gals not having you."
At this point of the conversation the old man awoke, and sang
out, "Don't you women talk that man to death. Why don't you git out
and let him go to bed?" and then, pointing to a bed in the corner,
he told me to turn in there when I felt like it.
The End Of A Day's Adventure.
This was a broad enough hint that Mr. Giles did not want to hear
any more conversation that night; so I excused myself to the old
woman and the girls, and stepped out on the porch to
think a little by myself as to what I had best do next. Here I was at
the end of my first day's experience in playing the part of a soldier,
with every reason to believe that I had thus far played it most
successfully, and that I had really made quite a brilliant start. The
prospects were all in favor of the easy accomplishment of my
immediate designs, and I saw myself, in imagination, already at the
head of a company of stalwart young recruits, appearing in the
presence of my astonished husband, and asking him to lead us to
battle. That I could successfully pass myself off for a man with both
sexes was an assured fact, for the elder Giles and Frank undoubtedly
took me for just what I professed to be, and the latter was both
willing and anxious to enter himself upon my muster-roll, while the
susceptible heart of Miss Sadie was apparently touched in a way
that it could never have been had the faintest suspicion of my not
being a man crossed her mind. The old woman, too, who, in a matter
of this kind, would be quite certain to be a more critical observer
than the rest of the family, had no hesitation in believing me to be a
gallant young soldier; so that, taking all things into consideration, I
had reason to congratulate myself upon a brilliant opening to my campaign.
My hopes were high, and my heart beat quick at the thoughts that
crowded upon me of the future that seemed opening out before me,
as under the soft stars of that April night I paced up and down
before the house maturing my plans for the morrow, and indulging
in romantic imaginings of the glory that awaited me, could I but
follow up successfully the career so auspiciously begun. The
thought of possible failure only crossed my mind to be banished
from it, and I resolved to dare everything to make success a
certainty and not a mere peradventure. At length, wearied in mind
and body by the fatigues and excitements of the day, I sought the
couch which the hospitality of the Giles family had provided me.
When I got back to the room the old woman and the girls had
disappeared, and the head of the house was snoring in one corner
of the room. I had a large sum of money on my person, and a
handsome gold watch; quite enough portable property, in fact, to
tempt people so dead poor as my entertainers, and I was somewhat
dubious at first about the best manner of disposing of my
valuables for the night. I finally, however, concluded to merely
take off my coat, vest, and boots, and to put my money and watch
under me in such a manner
that they could not be touched without my being aroused. My
revolver was also examined, and found to be in good shooting
condition, and was placed beneath the pillow so that I could easily
grasp it in any emergency requiring its use. These preparations
completed, I threw myself upon the bed, and ere many minutes,
overcome with fatigue, I fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
CHAPTER VI.
A WIDOW.
Flirtation and Recruiting. — My brilliant Success in
enlisting a Company. — Embarkation for New Orleans. — Letter from
my Husband. — Change
of Plans. — Cheered while passing through Mobile. — Arrival at
Pensacola. — Astonishment of my Husband. — Sudden Death of my
Husband by the Bursting of a Carbine. — Determination to go to the
Front. — A fascinating Widow. — A Lesson in
Courtship. — Starting for the
Seat of War. — Unpleasant Companions. — A bit of Flirtation with a
Columbia Belle. — In Charge of a Party of Ladies and Children at
Lynchburg. — Arrival in Richmond. — Another Lady in Love with
me. — The Major wants to make a Night of it. — A great Game of
Cards. — Off for the Battle-field.
HE
noise of a coffee-mill, operated in a very energetic manner by one of the
daughters of the house, and the yelling of half a dozen ill-conditioned dogs,
disturbed my slumbers in the morning, at an hour when I fain would
have kept possession of my couch, in spite of its unsavoriness.
I knew that it was time to get up, but the fingers of sleep
pressed heavily upon my eyelids, and I lay for some time half
awake and half lost in slumber, not quite certain as to exactly
where I was, wondering if camp-life was as rough as this,
amused at myself for thinking of such a thing, when I knew
that many a soldier would envy me my surroundings, and then
dropping off amid a cloud of fancies into a sound doze again.
The rather piercing tones of Miss Sadie, calling to Frank, and a
fresh outbreak of yells from the dogs, awoke me again, and
this time in good earnest. I jumped out of bed, thinking that
this kind of laziness would never do if I intended to be a
soldier, and pulling on my boots, I stepped out on the porch.
The dawn was far advanced, but the sun was still below the
horizon, and the air was dull and heavy with dampness and with
the miasmatic vapors of the neighboring swamps. It required
some little exertion for me to shake off the lethargy
that clung to my limbs, but after a wash in a wooden bowl
filled with water, that Frank brought me, I felt refreshed, and ready
to begin with proper energy the work of the day. I was not very long in
arranging my toilet, using my own soap and towels, which I fortunately had
brought with me, for they were articles with which the Giles homestead did not
appear to be over plentifully supplied, and was in the midst of a
discussion with Frank as to the best method of proceeding in order to enlist the
number of men I desired, when the old woman put her head out of the door and
squeaked, "Come to breakfast, Mister."
I was in a few moments seated by the side of Miss Sadie, who was still
attired in the brilliant yellow calico dress, which was evidently the
most esteemed bit of costume her wardrobe afforded. She blushed furiously as I
greeted her, but was so evidently partial to me, that the other members of the
family could not but take notice of it, and there was not a little sport at her
expense. I overheard Frank say to her, in a loud whisper, "You need not stick
yourself up for that fellow; he don't want you."
At this I redoubled my attentions, and Miss Sadie showed
very plainly by her manner that she was highly flattered by
them, so much so, that when Frank, seeing how things were
going, whispered maliciously, "I'll tell Bob how you are going
on with that soldier," she only turned up her nose, and gave
her head a toss in a manner that indicated as plain as words,
that Sadie's Arkansas sweetheart had been completely cut out
by the military individual seated beside her. It was not
altogether bad fun to indulge in a bit of a flirtation with
Miss Sadie, for she enjoyed the flattering attentions I paid
her immensely, but as I had matters of more importance upon my
hands, it was impossible for me to make myself as agreeable to
her as she would have liked me to.
Recruiting.
When breakfast was over, I went out to see the girls milk
the cows, and then, after chatting a bit with Sadie, I crossed
over to the school-house, where I found half a dozen rather
rough fellows waiting to see me, all of whom expressed themselves
as extremely anxious to enlist. One very hard-looking
specimen, who could not even write his name, wanted very
badly to be captain; indeed, they all were quite ambitious to
be officers, and I had some difficulty in explaining to them,
that in the army, in time of war, where actual fighting was
being done, it was a very different thing holding the position of
an officer, from what it was in the militia. I, however,
encouraged them to believe that they all might be lieutenants,
captains, and even generals, some day, if they fought
bravely, and succeeded in creating such an enthusiasm among
them over the prospect of a brush with the Yankees, to be
followed by rapid promotion, that the whole party were
soon ready to enlist on any terms I chose to suggest.
After talking the matter over with these men for some time,
and explaining the situation in the best style I was able, I
wrote out solve bills calling for volunteers, one of which I posted
on the school-house door, and the rest I gave to Frank, who
mounted a horse, and started off to distribute them through the
country. During the day I read the army regulations at
least a dozen times, and tried to make the men understand
what they meant, This was not a very easy matter, but I
succeeded in enrolling thirty-six, whom I ordered to report for
roll call the next morning. This they did not much fancy; but
on my stating that they were under oath, and bound to obey,
they yielded without making any trouble about it, but apparently
with no great admiration for military discipline.
My quota was easily filled in four days, and I then
proceeded to get my battalion organization complete, and to
make preparations for departure. Two of the most intelligent
of the men I appointed subordinate officers, one sergeant and
the other corporal; and gave them instructions about drilling the
battalion, and maintaining discipline in my absence.
Everything now being in proper trim, I sent a messenger
ahead to the friend in Memphis who had so efficiently aided
my plans, with instructions for him to engage transportation,
and then getting my troops into marching order, off we started.
Having seen my little army under way, I lingered for a
moment to bid good-by to the Giles family. The old man did not
much fancy losing both his boys, — for his youngest son Ira
had enlisted as well as Frank, — but he stood it bravely; the old
woman, however, broke down entirely, while both the girls
cried, Miss Sadie, I thought, more at the idea of parting with
me than at losing her brothers. I, however, begged them to
keep their courage up, and to expect the boys home soon,
covered with glory, as the heroes of many well-fought fields.
Miss Sadie's hand I squeezed a bit as I said farewell, and I
fancy that her lover, Bob, had some difficulty after that in
obliterating the impression the young officer had made upon her heart.
On The March.
I determined to march my men to the river, in order to
break them in; but before we got to the landing, a good many
of them were decidedly of the opinion that soldiering was
much harder work than they had calculated upon. None of them
showed any disposition to back out, however, and the majority,
despite the fatigue of the march, were quite elated at the prospect
before them of being able to see something of the world. I do
not think any of them appreciated the real importance of what they
were doing, and looked upon the whole affair much in the light of
an excursion, which would be rather jolly than otherwise. Indeed,
to tell the truth, I rather regarded the thing in that light myself,
notwithstanding that I had seen enough of military life for me to
understand something of its serious character.
At the landing I met my Memphis friend with my baggage and
equipments and a tent, and with blankets and camp utensils
for the use of the men. He also handed me a letter from my husband.
This I eagerly read, and much to my disappointment, learned from it
that he had gone to Pensacola. I determined, however, to push on and
meet him there, for I was bent on carrying out my original idea of
surprising him, and of offering him the command of my battalion. I
accordingly embarked my men — two hundred and thirty-six in
all — upon the steamer Ohio Belle, and issued to them blankets and
other articles necessary for their comfort.
My plan now was to go down to New Orleans, where I should be able to
procure
such stores and equipments as were immediately needed, and where I could
perfect
my disguise; for, not only did my padded coat not fit me as it ought, but
it was
almost unbearably warm, and I was anxious to substitute something more
comfortable for the padding at the earliest possible moment. My friend
accompanied me as far as Vicksburg, where he bade me adieu, the tears
springing
to his eyes as he did so, for he could not dispossess himself of the
impression
that I was engaged in a foolhardy and dangerous enterprise, out of which
I could
scarcely come with credit to myself and friends. He, however, did not
attempt to
dissuade me,
for the time for argument had long since passed, and he knew perfectly
well that
I was determined to follow my own inclinations at whatever hazard.
On arriving at New Orleans, I landed my men a short distance above the
city, and
then, with as little delay as possible, purchased my quartermaster and
commissary stores, and perfected my private outfit in the manner stated in a
previous chapter. Among my other purchases was a fine horse, which I obtained
from Dr. Elliott, on Union Street. No finer body of men ever went out of New
Orleans than the Arkansas Grays, as my battalion was called. As we passed
through Mobile we were heartily cheered, the men waving their hats, and the
women their handkerchiefs, and everybody commenting in the most laudatory terms
upon our martial appearance. I cannot pretend to tell how proud I was, when I
noted how much attention we were attracting; and if the shadow of a doubt as to
the propriety of the course I was pursuing remained in any mind, it assuredly
vanished as the cheers of the citizens of Mobile greeted my ears. I felt that,
in spite of my being a woman, I was intended for a military leader, and I
resolved, more firmly than ever, to let nothing stand in the way of my winning
the fame I coveted.
A Genuine Surprise.
At Pensacola we were received by my husband, who came to meet us in response to
a telegraphic despatch I had sent him, signed by my nom de guerre. He had not
the slightest idea who I was, and would not have recognized me had I not
revealed myself. So soon as I was able, however, after landing my men from the
train, I took him aside where I could speak to him privately, and disclosed my
identity. He was intensely astonished, and greatly grieved, to see me come
marching into Pensacola at the head of a body of men in such a guise, and said,
that although I had done nobly, he would not for the world have had me attempt
such a thing. I told him, however, that there was no use of discussing the
matter, for I was determined to be a soldier, and then placed in his hands the
muster-rolls of my company, to show him how well I could do what I undertook. He
was proud of the ability I had displayed in carrying out my plans, and seeing
the uselessness of further argument, took command of the men, and commenced
putting them in training. After they were
mustered in, and stationed in camp, Thomas C. De Caulp was appointed first
lieutenant, and Frank Murdock second lieutenant, while I was ordered back
to New Orleans to purchase more stores and equipments.
The Death Of My Husband.
I had scarcely arrived at my destination when I received a despatch announcing
the death of my husband, and requesting my immediate return. Terribly shocked,
and nearly wild with grief, I started for Pensacola again, and found, upon my
arrival there, that, while drilling his men, my husband undertook to explain the
use of the carbine to one of the sergeants, and the weapon exploded in his
hands, killing him almost instantly. I was now alone in the world, and more than
ever disposed to take an active part in the war, if only for the purpose of
revenging my husband's death. Smothering my grief as much as possible, I turned
over the command of my battalion to Lieutenant De Caulp, for the double reason
that the men were only enlisted for three months, and were to be stationed in
Pensacola, or its vicinity, where there was not much prospect of very active
service just then, and that I had resolved to go to the front in the character
of an independent, with a view of leading a life of more stirring adventures
than I probably should be able to do if permanently attached to a particular
command.
A Pretty Widow.
During the brief time I had been in Pensacola I had formed the acquaintance of a
number of officers who were going to the front, and, as they intended to leave
for Richmond shortly, I concluded that it would be better to go in their
company, especially as several of them were first-rate fellows, and one or two
particular friends of my late husband. I also became acquainted with a good many
ladies, one of whom, a dashing young widow, paid my masculine charms the
compliment of falling desperately in love with them. This lady did not require
any encouragement from me; but finding that, while polite to her, I was rather
shy and reserved, and apparently insensible to her attractions, she made a dead
set at me, and took pains to let me know, in terms that could not be
misunderstood, the sentiments she felt for me.
I was really in no mood for nonsense of this kind, and, to tell the
truth, I was not particularly pleased with the decidedly unfeminine
advances that were made towards me. The necessity of playing the
character I had assumed, however, in a successful manner, pressed
upon me, and I felt that diversion of some kind was requisite to
divert my mind from the sad and gloomy thoughts caused by my
bereavement. I accordingly determined to meet my fair one half
way, and paid her numerous attentions, such as taking her to the
theatre, and to drive upon the beach. I, however, resolutely refused
to accept any of the numerous very broad hints she threw out, to the
effect that a little more love-making would be more than agreeable,
at which she seemed considerably surprised. Finding, at length,
that I either could not or would not understand what she was
driving at, she bluntly reproached me for not being more tender in my
demonstrations towards her. I put on the innocent air of a green
schoolboy, perfectly nonplussed with the advances of a pretty
woman, and assured her that I had never courted a lady in my life,
and really did not know how to begin. The eagerness with which
the widow undertook to instruct me, was decidedly comical, and I
learned more about some of the fine points of feminine human nature
from her in a week, than I had picked up for myself in twenty years.
The courting was pretty much all on her side, and I really had not
imagined before that it was possible for a lady to take such an
important matter so entirely out of the gentleman's hands. For the fun
of the thing I pretended to soften to her, and by the time I was ready
to start for Virginia, we were the best possible friends; and although
I was careful to make no definite promises, the widow parted from me
with the understanding that when the war was over we were to be
something more than friends to each other. If I were a man, it
would be absurd for me to tell all this, but being a woman, this and
other of my love adventures have a comical interest for me, as I
doubt not they will have for the reader. If they do not show some of
the members of my own sex in the best possible light, it is their fault
and not mine.
Off For Virginia.
On the 16th of June I started for Virginia, in company with quite a
jovial party of fellows, who were much disposed to make a frolic of
their journey. They had a good deal of
whiskey with them, and I was constantly importuned to drink, my
declining to do so not having the best possible effect on some of
them. The conversation became more and more profane and ribald,
as the wiskey produced its natural effect; and being almost the only
sober person in the party, I was not only intensely disgusted, but the
warnings I had received from my husband came into my mind, and
had a most depressing influence upon me. Much of the talk
was mere meaningless blackguardism, and my ears were saluted for the
first time with nastiness in the shape of language, such as it would
have been impossible for me to have imagined the tongues of
human beings to utter. It was an intense relief to me when, about
four o'clock, the train arrived at Montgomery, and I was able to get by
myself for a little while.
At the Exchange Hotel I met Mr. Leroy P. Walker, the secretary
of war, with whom I had a very pleasant conversation about the
prospects of the contest with the North, the political situation, and
other matters of interest. The next day I bought a smart and mannerly
negro boy, named Bob, of about eighteen years of age. I procured
him a proper suit of clothes and a military cap, and then gave him
charge of my baggage, with instructions to keep a sharp eye on my
effects, to behave himself properly, and to come to me when he
wanted spending money. Bob proved an excellent servant, taking
care of my clothing in good style, and when we were in camp,
attending to my two horses in a very satisfactory manner.
From Montgomery I went to Columbia, South Carolina, where I
remained over for several days. During my stay in
this place I formed the acquaintance of a very pleasant family, one
of the young ladies of which, Miss Lou, seemed to be quite taken
with me. I was invited to the house, and passed a number of agreeable
hours there, and on parting, Miss Lou gave me her address,
requesting me to write to her, and pinned a small C. S. flag on my
coat.
On the train bound north, there was another quite jovial party,
but, very much to my gratification, not so much addicted to
whiskey-drinking, blasphemy, and obscenity, as that with which I had
started out. A good deal of the conversation was about wives and
sweethearts and pictures of the loved ones at home were freely
handed about. I was rallied rather severely because I could not show
a photograph of my sweetheart, and some of the men intimated that I must
be a poor kind of a man not to be able to find a girl to exchange
photographs with me. I took the sharp things they thought fit to say of
me in good part, and replied that I did not doubt of my ability to
get a sweetheart soon enough when I wanted one.
A Lady's Man.
Before the journey was ended, I had an opportunity to prove
myself as good a lady's man as the best of them, for at Lynchburg,
where we were compelled to remain over all night, on taking the
train for Richmond, an elderly gentleman stepped up, and after
inquiring my destination, asked if I could take charge of some ladies. I
replied that I would do so with pleasure; but was rather taken
aback when I found myself placed in the position of escort to five
women and two children. I could not imagine what induced the old
gentleman to pick out a little fellow like me, when so many much
larger, older, and more experienced officers were present, some of
whom were greatly my superiors in rank. I was dreadfully
embarassed, but resolved to play the gallant to the best of my
ability, although my heart was in my throat, and I could scarcely
find voice to announce myself as Lieutenant Buford, when he
inquired my name for the purpose of introducing me.
I was about to inquire whether the ladies had their tickets and
checks, when the old gentleman presented them, very much to my
satisfaction. Excusing myself for a few moments, I went to attend
to checking my own baggage. While I was engaged in this
occupation, an officer of my party, who was tolerably full of liquor,
approached, and slapping me on the back, exclaimed, "You're a
lucky fellow to fall in with such a nice lot of feminines; won't you
introduce me?"
"Not unless the ladies give their consent," I replied. "If they are
willing, and a good opportunity offers, I have no objections."
Just then the bell rang, and I hastened to escort the ladies to the
car. My tipsy friend, who was determined to show his gallantry at all
hazards, whether his services were agreeable or not, stood ready to
lend his assistance; but as he could not but make himself offensive
in the condition he was in, I determined to snub him so completely
that he would not have the temerity to intrude on us again. Drawing
myself up to my full height, and putting on as severe a manner as I could
command, I said, "Excuse me, sir, but these ladies are under my
charge, and I am able to take care of them without assistance."
He gave me a rather defiant look, but otherwise took this snub
quietly enough, and went into another car, while I joined the ladies
feeling several inches taller, and with an increased confidence in
myself.
We were soon under way, and had a pleasant enough ride, or at
least it would have been pleasant enough had I not been tormented
with the fear that they would penetrate my disguise, and discover
that I was not what I pretended to be. No suspicions were excited,
however, and we finally arrived at Richmond without anything
having happened to mar the enjoyment of the journey. On alighting
from the cars, I procured carriages to convey the several members of
the party to their destination; two of the ladies, however,
accompanied me to the Ballard House, where I obtained rooms for
them. The youngest of my newly-found female friends, — a very
pretty girl, who seemed to have taken quite a fancy to me, — had the
room adjoining mine, and I had scarcely established myself in my new quarters,
when a waiter knocked at the door and handed me a card from her, asking me to
escort her to supper. I laughed to myself at this, and fancying that I had
succeeded in making another conquest, determined to get myself up in the best
style I could, and to do credit to the uniform I wore by showing her
that her appreciation was not misapplied. I dressed myself in my best
apparel, and, after a visit to the barber's, I was ready to play the
gallant in the best possible manner.
An Embarrassing Position.
It was all well enough while I was pacing the corridors of the
hotel with mademoiselle on my arm, but I confess that my heart
failed me when we entered the dining-room, and I fancied that
everybody was looking at us. When the big steward, advancing
towards us with his politest bow, said, "Lieutenant, step this way
with your lady," and then turning to one of the waiters, told him to
attend to this gentleman and lady, it seemed to me as if every eye in
the room was fixed on me. I was a rather conspicuous object, it is
true, for my uniform, made of the best cloth, and trimmed with
buttons and gold lace, was well calculated to attract attention,
while the lady on my arm being rather taller than myself,
made me even more an object for the curious to gaze at than
if I had been alone. The probabilities, however, are, that I
imagined myself to be creating a much greater sensation
than I was, and it was not a great while before I became
accustomed to be stared at, and learned not to mind. My
feelings on entering the dining-room, however, were not the less
unpleasant for being imaginary, and I was in no mood to
develop my talents as a conversationalist for the delectation
of my companion.
The young lady was nothing daunted by me silence, and
chattered away at a great rate on all imaginable subjects, and
finally succeeded in putting me somewhat at my ease. I
was just beginning to feel a little comfortable, when in came
several persons, my friend, the major, among them, whom I
had met in Memphis. They sat down nearly opposite to us,
on the other side of the room. I could see by their glances in
our direction, and by the laughing manner in which they
conversed, that they were discussing my lady and me, and I
tried all I could to avoid noticing them. The major, however,
at length caught my eye and saluted me, and from a motion
he made, I was dreadfully afraid that he intended to come
over and join us. My lady at length finished her supper,
much to my relief, and I hurried her out of the room as fast as
I could, and repaired to the drawing-room, where I excused
myself on the plea that I had urgent business to attend to, as
I intended leaving the city on the first train. She seemed
extremely reluctant to part company with me, and would not
let me go until I promised to see her again before I left the city.
In bidding her good night, she extended her hand; and when I
took it, she gave mine a squeeze, that indicated as plain as
words that a trifle more forwardness on my part would not be
disagreeable. I was a little bit disgusted with her very
evident desire to capture me, and was very glad to get her off
my hands, my determination on parting being not to see her
again if I could avoid doing so.
As I strode down the hall, I was overhauled by my Memphis
friends, who were very glad to see me, and asked me all
kinds of questions about myself, affairs in Memphis, the
operations of the Army of the West, and other matters of
similar interest. A good deal of the information I gave them
was fictitious, while the rest was made up from telegrams, the
newspapers, and conversations I had overheard; but it answered the
purposes of the moment, and was probably about as near the
truth as the greater part of the war talk that was going on around us. I
told them that I intended joining Johnston's army, and that I was
bound to have a hand in the fight that was coming off, and was
anxious to get to the front as soon as possible.
After some further conversation of this kind, the major
proposed that we should take a carriage and see the city. We
accordingly drove around for a while, seeing the sights, and
visiting numerous bar-rooms and gambling-houses, and before a
great while the major, who took rather big drinks every time,
was very much inclined to be noisy, and to insist upon our
making a night of it with him. I had no desire for his company
any longer than I could help, and I especially did not desire to
go through with the particular kind of performance which he
called "making a night of it;" so, resisting his his importunities,
I invited another member of the party, a captain, and a very
gentlemanly, quiet sort of a fellow, to play a game of cards with
me. The major, finding that he could not get us to join him, started
off to hunt other companions, while the captain and I returned to
the hotel, where we played "old sledge," until one o'clock in the
morning.
On going to my room, I found a note from my lady friend,
requesting me to visit her in her chamber. This considerably
astonished me, and assuredly did not increase my good
opinion of her. I was almost tempted, however, to comply, just
for the sake of hearing what she had to say to me, but wisely
concluded that, situated as I was, it would be more prudent to
avoid any further acquaintance with such a forward specimen
of my sex.
I slept late the next morning, having forgotten to give
directions for being called, and found, much to my satisfaction, on
inquiring of the clerk, that my lady had left before I was out
of bed. After breakfast, I ordered Bob to have everything
ready for our departure by the six o'clock train. While strolling
about the street, I was accosted by an officer, who asked me
to show my papers. I told him that I had none, but that I was
an independent, and had recruited, and put in the field, at my
own expense, a battalion of two hundred and thirty-six men.
This seemed to highly delight him, for he shook me
warmly by the hand, asked me to step over to his office,
where he could furnish me with transportation, and otherwise
showed a desire to be of service to me. I
thanked him, but declined the offer, on the plea that I proposed
to pay my own way.
During the day I bought two horses and shipped them, and
provided myself with a number of articles necessary for the
campaign upon which I was about entering. Returning to the hotel, I
paid my bill, had a lunch put up, and my baggage got ready,
while Bob blacked my hoots and brushed my coat. As ill
luck would have it, however, I missed the six o'clock train, and
was consequently compelled to remain another night in
Richmond. The next morning, however, Bob and I were off in
the five o'clock train, the darkey apparently as anxious as
myself to see what fighting really was.
CHAPTER VII.
THE BATTLE OF BULL RUN.
Joining the Army in the Field. — Trying to get a
Commission. — The
Skirmish at Blackburn's Ford. — Burying the Dead. — I attach myself to
General Bee's Command. — The Night before the Battle of Bull
Run. — A sound Sleep. — The Morning of the Battle. — A magnificent
Scene. — The Approach of the Enemy. — Commencement of the
Fight. — An Exchange of Compliments between old Friends. — Bee's
Order to fall back, and his Rally. — "Stonewall"
Jackson. — The Battle at
its fiercest. — The Scene at Midday. — Huge Clouds of Dust and
Smoke. — Some tough Fighting. — How Beauregard and Johnston
rallied their Men. — The Contest for the Possession of the
Plateau. — Bee and Bartow killed. — Arrival of Kirby Smith with
Re-enforcements. — The Victory Won. — Application for
Promotion. — Return to Richmond.
WAS
now about to enter upon the realization of all my dreams, to
see some real warfare, to engage in real battles, to do
some real fighting, and, as I fondly hoped, to have some
opportunities of distinguishing myself in a signal
manner. I was never in better health and spirit than on that
bright summer morning, when I left Richmond for the
purpose of joining the forces of the Confederacy
in the face of the enemy; and the nearer we
approached our destination, the more elated did I become at the
prospect before me of being able to prove myself as good a
fighter as any of the gallant men who had taken up arms in behalf of
the cause of Southern independence. I had only one fear, and that
was, that I should be stopped on account of not having the
proper papers; but my motto was, "Nothing venture, nothing
have;"
and I was bent on facing the thing through, and trusting to luck
to bring me out all right. Fortunately I had no trouble of any kind,
and arrived safely at Clifton, — a supply-station about a dozen
miles from the headquarters of the army in the field.
At Clifton I bought a couple of fine horses, and on the 15th of July
set out for headquarters, with a view of being assigned to a
command where I should have a chance to see some fighting. I
sought an interview with a prominent general, but he
was in rather a crusty humor; and as he did not seem inclined
to talk with me, I concluded not to bother him, but to take my
chances as matters might shape themselves for the
accomplishment of my designs. His adjutant was more polite,
and desired to employ me as a courier; but this did not suit my
notions, and I consequently declined. I told him that I was an
independent, paying my own expenses, and that the only thing
I wanted was an opportunity to take a hand in the coming
fight. I suppose he thought that I was entirely too independent
for him, for he said no more, but turned away, and went about
other affairs.
Trying To Get A Commission.
General Beauregard was in command of the entire army;
but I felt a hesitation in approaching him, especially after the
rebuff I had just received. Thinking that the shortest way to
get what I wanted was to obtain a regular commission, I
offered an officer, with whom I became acquainted, five
hundred dollars for his. He would not sell, however; and I then
went over to Brigadier General Bonham, who was holding
Mitchell's Ford, and introduced myself to him. General
Bonham looked at me sharply, and asked what company I
belonged to.
"To none," I replied. "I belong wherever there is work to do."
"Well," said Bonham, "you are the right sort to have
around when a fight is going on. If you stay here a little while,
I reckon you will be able to find plenty of work."
I took this as a hint that I might make myself at home, and,
bowing myself out of the general's presence, went to look
after my boy Bob. The darkey was just beginning to have
some appreciation of what fighting was really like, and was
badly scared. I told him that if he ran off and left me, I would
kill him if I ever caught him again; which threat had its desired
effect, for he stuck to me through thick and thin.
The Skirmish At Blackburn's Ford.
At half past twelve o'clock, on the 18th, the enemy made a
sharp attack, but did not do any great damage. Kemper's
battery, which occupied the ridge on the left of the Centreville
road, performed efficient service in holding the Yankees
in check. Soon, however, the enemy advanced in strong force,
and attacked General Longstreet's brigade at Blackburn's Ford. Our
pickets fell slowly back across the Ford, which was crossed by our
skirmishers, and for some time a rapid but irregular firing was
kept up between the two contending armies. Longstreet,
however, soon was in a condition to meet the attack squarely;
and bringing about three thousand infantry into position, he
succeeded in repulsing the enemy after a sharp skirmish of
nearly an hour's duration. Later, Longstreet was re-enforced
by Brigadier General Early's brigade, and the enemy finding us
too strong for them, was forced to retreat from the field. As
they broke and ran, I fired a last shot at them with a dead man's
musket, which I picked up. During the greater part of this fight,
the men belonging to the two armies who engaged in it were
often not more than a few feet from each other, and it seemed
more like a series of duels than anything such as I had
imagined a battle would be. It was during this affair that I had the
pleasure of meeting with a man I had heard a great deal
about, — Colonel J. B. Walton, of the Washington artillery. He
was a brave man, and a very genial, pleasant fellow.
This skirmish was but the prelude to the great battles of
Manassas or Bull's Run, which was fought on the 21st of July,
1861. It served, however, to initiate me, and to make me
impatient to see an engagement of real importance, in which I
should have an opportunity to make a first-rate display of my
fighting qualities. I was the more anxious for a big fight soon,
as I had been placed temporarily in command of a company,
the senior officer of which had been killed, and I was afraid
that if a fight was long delayed I should be superseded, and
should be compelled to lose my best chance of distinguishing
myself. I had no occasion, however, to be afraid of a fight not
coming off, for we had ample information of all the movements of
the enemy, and knew that he was about to advance upon us in
full force, so that the conflict was likely to begin at almost any
moment. I was able, therefore, to take part in the first great
battle of the war, under the best possible auspices, and to
thus accomplish what had been one of the great objects of my
ambition from my earliest childhood. There may have been
men who did harder fighting at Bull Run than myself, but no
one went through the fight with a stouter heart, or with a
greater determination to behave valiantly, and, if possible, to
give the enemy a sound thrashing, if only
for the sake of affording him an idea of the magnitude of the job he
had undertaken in attempting to coerce the Southern people.
Burying The Dead.
On the 18th I assisted, with the rest, to bury the dead, my boy, Bob, rendering
us efficient service in the performance of this duty. When night
came I was tired out, and, lying down on the bare ground, slept
soundly until four o'clock the next morning. When I awoke, I was
weary and sore in all my limbs through the unusual exertions I had
been compelled to make, and the exposure to the hot sun in the day
time, and the damp air and cold ground at night. I was not sick,
however; and as I had no doubt that I should soon get used to this
kind of rough life, I never thought of giving up, especially as a great
battle was impending, upon taking part in which my heart was bent.
At daybreak, on the 19th, I was in my boots, and ready to march.
Passing through Ashby's Gap, we reached the little town of
Piedmont, on the Manassas Gap Railroad, where we halted. On the
20th, General Johnston arrived at Manassas about noon, and was
followed by two Georgia regiments and Jackson's brigade of gallant
Virginians. Then came Bernard E. Bee, with the fourth Alabama
regiment and the second regiment, and three companies of the
eleventh regiment of Mississippians. On account of some delay, or
detention on the railroad, it was now found necessary to hold a council of
war, and to make some changes in the plans already aranged.
When the troops were once more in motion, I followed Bee's line
through a dense wood, as far as Sudley's Road. General Bee, at this
place, appointed me a special messenger, and sent me with an order
to Colonel Wheat, of the Louisiana battalion, and also to General
Evans, whose command was about six hundred yards distant. Evans
was an officer whom I had heard much talked of, and whom I
greatly desired to see. He was commonly designated, by the officers
and men, as "Shanks," and he looked very much as if the kind of
liquor he was in the habit of drinking did not agree with him.
It was well known that the Federals intended to attack us in force
on Sunday, the 21st, and preparations were made to give them the
right kind of a reception when they appeared. Although full of
excitement at the prospect of taking part in a great battle, one that,
perhaps, would enable us to secure
the independence of the South at a single blow, — for the
skirmishes in which I had thus far been engaged only seemed to
whet my appetite for fighting, and to make me more than ever
desirous of seeing what a really desperate-fought battle was
like, — I succumbed to the fatigues I had undergone, and passed
the greater part of the night, before the terrific conflict at Bull
Run, in a dreamless sleep. I had fancied that sleep would be
impossible to me under such circumstances; but a very little
experience as a soldier was sufficient for me to be able to fall into
a soldier's way of doing things, and I soon learned to take my rest as
naturally and composedly upon the bare ground as if on the most
downy couch, and not even the excitements and anxieties incident to an
impending battle could prevent my tired eyes from closing after a
long and fatiguing day passed under a broiling July sun.
The Morning Of The Battle Of Bull Run.
On the morning of the day of the battle I was awake at dawn,
and ready to play my part in the great drama which was about
to begin; and although some of the men around me had been
disposed to laugh at the efforts of the little dandified
independent to get a chance to display his valor, not one of
them was more eager for the fight than myself, or was more
bent upon doing deeds of heroism. If I had allowed myself to be
irritated by snubs from officers, who behaved as if they thought the
results of the war depended upon them alone, I should have
gone back to Richmond in disgust several days before the battle
came off, and should have resumed the garb of my sex, with a
determination never to figure as a man again. I was not to be
bluffed by anybody, however; and having come thus far to see
and to take a hand in a great battle, I had no thought of turning
back for any cause, or under any circumstances, no matter
what might be said or thought of me.
I labored under some disadvantages in not having a regular
commission, and not being attached to a regular command. This
exposed me to slights that would otherwise not have been put
upon me, and prevented officers, who would, under some
circumstances, have gladly taken advantage of my readiness to
attend faithfully to any task assigned me, to avail themselves of
my services. On the other hand, my being an independent,
enabled me, to a great extent, to choose my own position in the
battle, and I probably, therefore, had a better
opportunity of distinguishing myself than I should have had
otherwise. I was especially bent upon showing some of them, who
were disposed to smile at me on account of my petite figure and jaunty
air, that I was as good a man as any one of them, and was able to
face the enemy as valiantly. This I did show them before the day was
over, and I was highly elated at the commendations which some of
the best soldiers bestowed upon the "plucky little devil," as they
called me.
By the time it was fairly daylight, the preparations for meeting the
enemy were well advanced, and the sun rose in all his majesty upon a
host of men drawn up in battle array, — the brave among them anxious
for the fray to begin, the cowards — and there were plenty of them in
both armies, — trembling in their boots, and eager for a pretext to
sneak away, and hide themselves from the coming danger. The
morning was a beautiful one, although it gave promise of a
sweltering day; and the scone presented to my eyes, as I surveyed
the field, was one of marvellous beauty and grandeur. I cannot
pretend to express in words what I felt, as I found myself one among
thousands of combatants, who were about to engage in a deadly and
desperate struggle. The supreme moment of my life had arrived, and
all the glorious aspirations of my romantic girlhood were on the
point of realization. I was elated beyond measure, although cool-headed
enough, and watched the preparations going on around me
with eager interest. Fear was a word I did not know the meaning of;
and as I noted the ashy faces, and the trembling limbs of some of the
men about me, I almost wished that I could feel a little fear, if only for
the sake of sympathizing with the poor devils. I do not say this for
brag, for I despise braggarts as much as I do cowards; but, in a
narrative like this, the reader has a right to know what my feelings, as
well as my impressions, were, upon so important an occasion as my
appearance as a combatant upon the battle-field, where the
Confederate troops first gave the enemy a taste of their genuine
quality, and achieved their first great victory.
The Advance Of The Enemy.
As the hot July sun mounted upwards through the almost
cloudless sky, and the mists of the morning disappeared before his
ardent beams, the approach of the enemy could be distinctly
traced by the clouds of dust raised by the tramping of
thousands of feet, and, once in a great while, the gleam of the
bayonets was discerned among the heavy clumps of timber that
covered the undulating plain which the commanders of the armies
of the South and the North had selected for their first trial of
strategy and of strength. The desultory firing
with which the battle opened soon was followed by rapid
volleys, and ere the morning was far advanced, the sharp
rattling of the musketry, the roar of the artillery, and the
yelling of the soldiers, developed into an incessant tumult;
while along the entire line, for miles, arose clouds of yellow dust
and blue smoke, as the desperateness of the conflict increased,
and the men on either side became excited with the work they
had in hand.
It soon became apparent that the position in which fortune
had placed me was to be the chief point of the Federal attack,
and that my immediate comrades would be compelled to bear
the brunt of the battle. The gallant Colonel Wheat was
severely wounded early in the day, but he succeeded in
checking the advance of the enemy, and in maintaining his
position, until General Bee, on being informed of the peril he
was in, advanced to the Henry House with the Alabama
regiment and Imboden's artillery, and from thence crossed the
valley to the support of Evans's command. The Federals were in
strong force, there being, probably, fifteen thousand
immediately in front of us, and they followed up their first sharp
attack with some desperate fighting. The commands of Bee,
Evans, and Bartow were all soon actively engaged in resisting
the advance of vastly superior numbers, and had quite as
much as they could attend to to do it. I attached myself to my
favorite officer, Bee, and remained with his command during
the entire day.
Bee Orders His Men To Fall Back.
The Federal artillery, which sent its shell showering over us,
and bursting in our ranks, creating terrible slaughter, was
commanded by an acquaintance of mine, Ricketts. I did the
best I could to give him as good as he sent, for the sake of old
times when we were friends, and when we neither of us
imagined that we would some day be opposed to each other on
the battle-field. The Confederates, although greatly
outnumbered, succeeded for a long time in maintaining
their ground, in spite of the odds against them, and again
and again
pierced through the enemy's lines. Our men suffered terribly,
however, the seventh Georgia and fourth Alabama regiments, especially,
being very badly cut up. At length, despite all our efforts, Bee was
compelled to give the order for us to fall back, the enemy having been
heavily re-enforced by the commands of Sherman and Keyes.
The Federals, doubtless, thought that the victory was theirs when
they saw us in retreat. It was a terrible moment, and my heart failed
me when I heard Bee's order. I was wrought up to such a pitch of
excitement, while the fight was going on, that I had no
comprehension whatever of the value of the movements being made
by the different commanders. I only saw the enemy before me, and
was inspired by an eager desire to conquer him. I forgot that I was
but a single figure in a great military scheme; and as, while we stood
face to face with the foe, every man on the other side became for the
moment my personal enemy, whom I was furious to overcome, so,
when by the general's command, we were compelled to fall back, I
was overcome with rage and indignation, and felt all the shame and
mortification of a personal defeat.
"Stonewall" Jackson.
I soon, however, saw the object Bee had in view in his momentary
retreat, when he rallied his men in the rear of a house, and gave them
a breathing spell, until Wade Hampton's legion and Jackson's
brigade could come to their assistance. This movement on the part of
Bee afforded me an opportunity to cool off a little, and to observe the
ebb and flow of the tide of battle more critically. I ere long was able to
understand the general plan upon which the action was being
conducted, and to view the combatants as masses to be wielded in a
certain way for the accomplishment of definite objects, and not as a
mere howling mob, bent only on a momentary success. From this
point, therefore, the battle became more interesting than ever, and
while none the less exciting, simply as a personal adventure, — for
my spirit rose and sank as victory or defeat seemed likely to rest
upon our banners, — I was more under the dominion of my reason,
and less of my passions, than I had been when the fight commenced.
Bee rallied his men, with a voice of thunder, saying, "My boys,
at them again! Victory or death! See how Jackson stands there like
a stone wall." This last expression seemed
to please the men mightily, for they took it up immediately; and with
a cheer for "Stonewall" Jackson, they made another dash at the enemy.
At noon the battle was at its fiercest, and the scene was
grand beyond description. The simile that came into my mind
was the great Desert of Sahara, with a broiling sun overhead,
and immense whirlwinds of sand rolling along over the plain
between heaven and earth. The red dust from the parched and
sun-dried roads arose in clouds in every direction, while the
smoke from the artillery and musketry slowly floated aloft in
huge, fantastic columns, marking the places where the battle
was being fought with most bitterness. The dry and motionless
air was choking to the nostrils, from the dust and smoke which
filled it, while the pitiless July sun poured its hottest rays upon
the parched and weary combatants. It was a sight never to be
forgotten, — one of those magnificent spectacles that cannot
be imagined, and that no description, no matter how eloquent,
can do justice to. I would not have missed it for the wealth of
the world, and was more than repaid for all that I had
undergone, and all the risks to my person and my womanly
reputation that I incurred, in being not only a spectator, but an
actor, in such a sublime, living drama.
The Pinch Of The Fight.
At the moment when Bee rallied his men for another
grapple with the enemy, I would have given anything could I
but have had the strength to make a clean sweep of our
opponents, and, by a single blow, end the great struggle.
Looking towards the hill which, in the morning, had been
occupied by three of our bravest and best generals —
Beauregard, Johnston, and Bonham — and their staffs,
I saw it covered with men fighting with desperation; all
along the valley were dense clouds of dust and smoke, while
the yells of the excited soldiery, and the roar of the guns,
were almost deafening.
Hard pressed by the greatly superior Federal force, our men
at several points wavered and fell back, and at one time there
was every prospect of a panic. This disgrace was spared,
however, largely by the personal exertions of Beauregard and
Johnston, who darted along the line, and succeeded in rallying
the men, and in bringing them up to their work again. General
Johnston turned the fortunes of the day by charging on the
enemy, with the colors of the fourth Alabama
regiment at his side. This was the pinch of the fight; for the
enemy were bearing down upon us with a large force of
infantry, cavalry, and artillery, and the personal example of
Generals Beauregard, Johnston, and other prominent officers,
who plunged into the thickest of the mêlée, had an immense effect
in encouraging the men to resist to the last, no matter what
the odds against them might be.
The fiercer the conflict grew the more my courage rose. The
example of my commanders, the desire to avenge my
slaughtered comrades, the salvation of the cause which I had
espoused, all inspired me to do my utmost; and no man on the
field that day fought with more energy or determination than
the woman who figured as Lieutenant Harry T. Buford.
At two o'clock the right of Beauregard's line was ordered
to advance — with the exception of the reserves — to recover
the plateau, for the possession of which both armies had
been fiercely contending. Stonewall Jackson succeeded in
piercing the enemy's centre, but his troops suffered terribly in
doing so. Bee, while leading his fourth Alabama regiment in
a charge, fell mortally wounded about a hundred yards from
the Henry House. Fifty yards farther north, Bartow was
shot, and was caught, as he fell from his horse, by General
Gartrell, then commanding the 7th Georgia, and by his order
carried to the rear. His last words were, "Boys, I am killed;
but don't give up the field." Colonel Fisher, of the sixth North
Carolina regiment, was also among the killed. He was a
noble fellow. The conflict now became more bitter than
ever, and at one time it seemed that we should be compelled
to succumb to the fierce attacks which the enemy were
making against us. At this crisis, a courier came up to me with
a message for General Johnston, to the effect that the
Federals had reached the line of the Manassas Gap Railroad,
and were marching on us with a heavy force. Had this
information been correct, it would have been all up with us.
Fortunately, however, the advancing troops were those of
Kirby Smith, and consisted of about two thousand infantry
and Beekman's artillery. The arrival of this force decided the
fate of the battle, and the Federals fled, defeated, from the
field, while our army fell back to Manassas Junction.
After the battle, I appealed to General Jackson for the
promotion which I considered that I had fully earned, and he
gave me a recommendation to General Bragg for a recruiting
commission. This I did not care about, for I thought that I
did not need his permission or his aid to do recruiting duty, and
determined to wait and see if something better would not offer. I
accordingly remained for some time with my acquaintances of the
fifth and eighth Louisiana regiment, hoping that another battle
would come off at an early day. Finding, however, that there was no
prospect of a fight very soon, and becoming tired of inactivity, I
determined to return to Richmond, for the purpose of seeing whether
it was not possible for me to find some work to do suited to my
abilities.
CHAPTER VIII.
AFTER THE BATTLE.
Erroneous Ideas about the War. — Some of the Effects of the Battle of Bull
Run. — The Victory not in all Respects a Benefit to the Cause of the
Confederacy. — Undue Elation of Soldiers and Civilians. — Richmond
demoralized. — A Quarrel with a drunken Officer. — An Insult resented.
— I leave Richmond. — Prospect of another Battle. — Cutting a Dash in
Leesburg. — A little love Affair. — Stern Parents. — A clandestine
Meeting. — Love's young Dream. — Disappointed Affections. — In Front of
the Enemy once more. — A Battle expected to come off.
HAVE
remarked in a previous chapter with regard to the men
belonging to the battalion which I recruited in Arkansas, that
they seemed to be under the idea that they were going on
a pleasant holiday excursion, rather than that they were
engaging in a very serious business, which would demand all
their energies, if the object they had in view was to be
secured. I frankly confess that I was not altogether free
from the feeling which prevailed, not merely with the young
fellows like my Arkansas recruits, who were glad of any
pretext for getting away from their rather dismal
surroundings, and who thought that fighting the Yankees
would be good fun, but with all classes of society. The
expression constantly heard, that one Southerner could whip
five Yankees, was not mere bounce, but it really
represented what nearly everybody thought; and very few
had any doubt as to the speedy end of the conflict that had
been begun, or that it would end in the recognition of Southern
independence. It took time to convince our people that they had
no holiday task to perform; but the difficulty of effectively
forcing the Federal lines, in spite of victories won by Confederate
arms in the field, combined with the privations caused
by the constantly increasing efficiency of the blockade, at
length compelled all classes of people at the South to realize the
fact that they had a tough job on their hands, and that if they
expected to obtain their independence it would be necessary for
them to work, and to work hard for it.
In many respects, the victory at Bull Run was anything but a
benefit to the South. The panic which overtook the Federal
soldiers, so far from communicating itself to the people of the
North, only inspired them with a determination to wipe out the
disgrace, and they hurried men to the front with such rapidity
and in such numbers, that they soon had a force in the field
which compelled the Confederates to act upon the defensive,
and to think about the means of resisting invasion instead of
attempting to assume the aggressive. On the other hand, not only
the men who fought at Bull Run, but the whole South, were greatly
elated at having won the first great battle; and, overestimating
the importance of their victory, they were more than ever
impressed with the idea that whipping the Yankees was a
remarkable easy thing to do.
Relaxation In Discipline.
The result of all this was, that discipline in the army, instead
of being kept up to the best standard, was relaxed, and
hundreds of good fighting men, who thought that the war was
virtually over, were permitted to go home, while many others
lounged round the camps, or went to Richmond, for the purpose
of having a good time, when they ought to have been following
up their success by further blows at the enemy.
It is easy enough now to see the mistakes that were made,
and any narrative of the war would be incomplete were not
some note made of them. I do not pretend, however, that I
was any wiser at the time them other people, or that I had any
better appreciation of the magnitude of the task we had before
us. Experience is a bitter teacher; and Experience in this case
was too late in giving her instructions for it to do any good.
As for myself, I was just like hundreds of other young
officers, eager to fight as much for the excitement of the thing
as anything else; but having little comprehension of the real
situation, or the gigantic obstacles which stood in the way of
the realization of our hopes, I chafed at the inactivity which
followed the battle of Bull Run, hoping for another engagement
which would enable me to display my valor, but was disposed
to have as good a time as was possible while the thing lasted,
whether any fighting was going on or not.
The victory at Bull Run, while it elated the whole Southern
people, and very greatly excited their hopes and expectations,
was most demoralizing to Richmond, to which city the capital of
the Confederacy had been removed a short time before the
battle came off. Crowds of soldiers, officers, and privates
thronged the streets, when they ought to have been on duty in
the field; while innumerable adventurers, male and female, were
attracted to the seat of government in the hope of making
something out of the war, careless of what happened so long as
they were able to fill their pockets. Money was plenty, entirely
too plenty, and the drinking-saloons, gambling-houses, and
worse resorts, reaped a rich harvest. For a time all went
merrily; but after a while, as month after month wore away,
and no substantial fruits of our brilliant victory were reaped, and
the prospect of a severe contest became every day more
decided, those who, like myself, had their hearts in the cause,
began to be impatient and disgusted at the inactivity that
prevailed, and were disposed to do a good deal of growling. I
confess that I enjoyed the excitement of life in Richmond at this
period hugely for a time, but I soon had enough of it, and
was glad to get away.
After the battle of Bull Run I did as much tall talking as
anybody, and swaggered about in fine style, sporting my
uniform for the admiration of the ladies, and making myself
agreeable to them in a manner that excited the envy of the
men, and raised me immensely in my own esteem; for I began
to pride myself as much upon being a successful lady's man as
upon being a valiant soldier.
A Little Unpleasantness.
The only adventure of any consequence that I had in
Richmond, however, was a difficulty with a lieutenant, who
started a quarrel with me without the slightest provocation on
my part, and who, finding me apparently indisposed to have any
words with him, seemed to think that he could insult me with
impunity. I stood a good bit of insolence from him on account
of his being in liquor, and endeavored to avoid him. As I was
much smaller than himself, and so evidently
unwilling to quarrel, he probably thought that it was a good
opportunity to air the spirit of blackguardism, which is the
strongest characteristic of some people, and persisted in following
me up. At length I could not stand his insolence any
longer, and to put a stop to it slapped his face. He evidently had
not expected anything of this kind, for he seemed stunned for
a moment, while I walked off, determined to take no further
notice of him, unless absolutely compelled to do so. When he
recovered himself he gave me a volley of abuse, and threatened
to shoot me; but, fortunately for himself, a friend who
had seen the encounter stepped up, and taking him in charge,
prevented him from making a fool of himself any further. I
thought that perhaps he might attempt to revenge himself in
some way for the indignity I had put upon him, but he doubtless
came to the conclusion that this was a case where discretion
was the better part of valor, and so prudently kept out of my
way. I never saw his homely visage again, although I every day
appeared in the most public places, where he would have had
no difficulty in finding me if he had desired to.
One Of Cupid's Mistakes.
Not being successful in getting the kind of appointment I
desired at Richmond, I concluded to try my luck elsewhere. I
went to Danville, and remained a couple of days, and on my
return to Richmond obtained a pass and transportation for the
West. When I got as far as Lynchburg, however, I changed my
mind, owing to meeting some of the boys from Leesburg, who
persuaded me to go there with them, as there was every
prospect of another fight coming off soon. This suited me
exactly, and to Leesburg I accordingly went, with a full
determination to take a hand in a battle if one did come off.
The fight did occur, although not so soon as I expected or
wished, and I played my part in it as successfully as I had done
at Bull Run. In the mean time, however, I splurged around
Leesburg in fine style, and enjoyed myself immensely, being
quite as successful as I had been in other places in winning the
regards of the members of my own sex, not one of whom
appeared to have the slightest suspicion that I was other than I
pretended to be.
One young lady in particular, Miss E., showed a marked
regard for me; and as she was a very charming girl, our
acquaintance would probably have developed into a decided
attachment, had I not been sailing under false colors. I was
sorry that I could not reciprocate, in a proper manner, the very
evident partiality she displayed towards me; and I more than
half regretted that I permitted matters to go as far as I did,
when I found what an impression I was making on her
susceptible heart. It was necessary for me to sustain the
character I had assumed, of a dashing young officer; and,
situated as I was, it was important that I should make myself
as agreeable as possible to the members of my own sex. Apart
from this, however, much of the male society into which I was
thrown was so very disagreeable to me, that I was glad to
escape from it by seeking that of lady friends. It afforded me
some amusement, too, to carry on a bit of a flirtation with a nice
girl; and I was very much tempted to entertain myself in this
manner, without reflecting very deeply as to the consequences.
I am very willing to admit that I ought not to have acted as I did
in this, and some other similar cases; and if anything should
occur to induce me to assume male attire again, I should
carefully avoid making love to young ladies, unless I had
occasion to do so for the immediate furtherance of my plans.
My error in allowing myself to indulge in flirtations with my own
sex, arose from thoughtlessness, and from a desire to play my
part to the best advantage; and I am sure my readers will
forgive me, as I hope the youug ladies, whom I induced to
indulge false expectations, will, when the publication of this
narrative makes known to the world the whole truth about the
identity of Lieutenant Harry T. Buford, C. S. A.
A Cool Reception.
I met Miss E., by accident, in a store, and she was
introduced to me by a youug dry goods clerk, with whom I
had struck up an acquaintance. After a little conversation on
indifferent subjects, she gave me a very pressing invitation to
call on her. I said that I would do myself the honor, and
accordingly put in an appearance, dressed in my best, at her
residence. She received me with many smiles and with great
cordiality, and introduced me to her father and mother. As I
noticed that the old people were rather inclined to be a little
cool, and evidently did not regard me with overmuch favor, I
cut short my visit, and, politely bowing myself out, determined,
in my own mind, never to enter the house again.
Had I been a man, the conduct of the parents would probably
have spurred me to court the favor of the daughter with more
pertinacity than ever. I have noticed that parental opposition to
a young man generally has this sort of stimulating effect upon
him; but, being a woman, I did not look at the thing exactly from
a masculine point of view, and, as the French say, Le jeu n'en
valait pas la chandelle.
I was sufficiently piqued, however, to accept any advances
the young lady might make with some degree of favor, and to
revenge myself upon the old people, by making myself intensely
agreeable to the daughter, in spite of them. When Miss E.,
therefore, showed a very marked disposition to continue our
acquaintance, I was quite ready to meet her half way.
The next day I met her on the street, and she, with a
pleasant smile, said, "I hope that you were not offended last night."
"Certainly not," said I. "Why should I be? Nothing has
happened to offend me;" just as if I had not noticed the behavior of her
parents.
"O, yes, there has," she answered. "Pa did not behave
at all polite to you; but then he treats all the young men who
come to see me in the same way, so you must not mind him."
She then informed me that, if I wished, I could see her at her
cousin's; and as she seemed to be exceed anxious to have me
call upon her again, I consented to do so. As we walked up the
street together she pointed out her cousin's house, and I made
an appointment to meet her there the next day, at five o'clock. I
then went with her to within a short distance of her home, but
declined to go to the door; not that I cared for what the old
folks might say or think, but because I thought that perhaps she
might get a scolding.
On parting with my little lady, I went immediately to a livery
stable, and, hiring a team, ordered my boy Bob to drive past
Miss E.'s home, for the sake of showing the old gentleman
what kind of style I could put on. Then going to the dry goods
store, I took my friend, the clerk, out with me for a turn around
the town, but did not inform him with regard to what had
occurred between the young lady and myself.
I was punctual in keeping my appointment with Miss E.; and
whether it was that my stylish team had impressed her
imagination, or that it was really a case of love at first sight,
she was even more cordial in her manner towards me than on
the previous occasions when we had met.
She asked me innumerable questions about myself, where
I was from, who were my parents, and seemed to be
particularly anxious to find out all about me.
I made up a story that I thought was suited to the occasion
and the auditor; and, among other things, told her that I was
the son of a millionnaire, that I had joined the army for the fun
of the thing, and that I was paying my own expenses.
This seemed to make a great impression, on her; and,
with a very significant smile, she said she wished that the war
would soon end, and that I would settle permanently in
Leesburg. This was a rather broad hint, and I could scarcely
refrain from laughing at it; but restraining myself, and keeping
my countenance straight, I asked, "Why do you take such a
fancy to me, Miss E., when there are so many elegant,
accomplished, and wealthy young men in Leesburg, with
whom you have been acquainted for a long time? You know
nothing whatever of me."
"It won't be hard for us to become better acquainted," she replied.
"Well," said I, "I don't want to deceive you; but the fact is, I
am as good as married already;" and producing a young lady's
photograph, which I had in my pocket, added, "I expect
to be married to this lady as soon as the war is over."
An Embarrassing Situation.
She turned pale at this, and the tears sprang to her eyes,
while I could not but feel regret at having permitted the matter
to go thus far. For a time neither of us spoke; and at length, to
put an end to a scene that was becoming embarrassing to both
of us, I arose, and, extending my hand, said that I must bid her
good evening.
She looked at me in a pitiable sort of way, and said, "Will
I never see you again?"
I answered that she might, if I was not killed, but a battle was
expected shortly, and it was my intention to take part in it. I
then said adieu, and precipitately left her, not feeling
altogether comfortable about the affair; but judging, as a woman, that
the young lady would, before a great while, find herself heart-whole,
and be none the worse for having permitted
herself to become unduly interested in Lieutenant Harry
T. Buford.
So ended my Leesburg flirtation; and a desire to avoid
meeting Miss E. again, at least until she had had time to
recover her equanimity, as well as my eager wish to see
some more fighting, induced me to leave the town as
soon as possible.
CHAPTER IX.
THE BATTLE OF BALL'S BLUFF.
An Appetite for Fighting. —
The Sensations of the Battle-Field. —
My Second Battle. — The Conflict at Ball's Bluff. — My Arrival at
General Evans's Headquarters. — Meeting an old Acquaintance. —
Hospitalities of the Camp. — The Morning of the Battle. —
Commencement of the Fight. — A fierce Struggle. — In Charge of a
Company. — A suspicious Story. — Bob figures as a Combatant. —
Rout of the Enemy. — The Federals driven over the Bluff into the
River. — I capture some Prisoners. — A heart-rending Spectacle.
— Escape of Colonel Devens, of the Fifteenth Massachusetts
Regiment, by swimming across the River. — Sinking of the Boats
with the wounded Federals in them. — Night, and the End of the Battle.
T
might be supposed that one battle would have been
enough for me, and that after having seen, as at Bull
Run, the carnage incident to a desperate conflict between thousands of
infuriated combatants, I should have been glad to have
abandoned a soldiers career, and to have devoted myself
to the service of the Confederacy in some other capacity than
that of a fighter. Indeed, it so turned out, that the most efficient
services I did perform in behalf of the cause which I espoused,
were other than those of a strictly military character, although
quite as important as any rendered by the bravest fighters
when standing face to face to the enemy. But it was, in a
measure, due to necessity rather than to original choice, that I
undertook work of a different kind from that which I had in my
mind when first donning my uniform. We are all of us, more or
less, the creatures of circumstances; and when I saw that the
fact of my being a woman would enable me to play another
rôle from that which I had at first intended, I did not hesitate,
but readily accepted what Fate had to offer.
The battle of Bull Run, however, only quickened my ardor to
participate in another affair of a similar kind, and the months of
enforced inaction, which succeeded that battle, had
the effect of making me long, with exceeding eagerness, to
experience again the excitement which thrilled me on the sultry July
day, when the army of the Confederacy won its first great
victory. The sensations which, on the battle-field, overcome a
soldier who knows nothing of fear, can only be compared to
those of a gambler who is playing for enormous stakes. The
more noble origin of the emotions experienced in the one case
over those excited by the other does not prevent them from
being essentially similar, although the gambler, who is staking
his all on the turn of a card, can know little or nothing of the
glorious excitement of the soldier engaged in a deadly conflict
with an enemy, and feeling that its issue depends upon his
putting forth his utmost exertions, and that determined valor
can alone secure him the victory.
The Pleasures Of Fighting.
The sensations of a soldier in the thick of a fight baffle
description; and, as his hopes rise or sink with the ebb and flow
of the battle, as he sees comrades falling about him dead and
wounded, hears the sharp hiss of the bullets, the shrieking of the
shells, the yells of the soldiers on each side as they smite each
other, there is a positive enjoyment in the deadly perils of the
occasion that nothing can equal.
At Bull Run, it so happened that I was placed where the
fight was hottest, where the enemy made his most determined
attacks, where the soldiers of the South made their most
desperate resistance, and where, for hours, the fate of the
battle trembled in the balance. When at length victory crowned
our banners, the enemy fled from the field, and we saw no more
of them, and desperate as was the fight, it was, notwithstanding
the great number of killed and wounded, unattended with the
peculiar horrors, the mere thought of which is calculated to
send a shudder through the strongest nerves.
The second battle in which I participated — that at Ball's
Bluff — was accompanied by every circumstance of horror; and
although in the excitement of the moment, when every faculty
of mind and body was at extreme tension, and I was only
inspired with an intense eagerness to do my whole duty for my
cause, I did not fully realize the enormities of such a slaughter
as was involved in the defeat of the Federals at that place, I
have never been able to think of it without a shudder,
notwithstanding that I have fought on more than one
bloody field since. Such scenes, however, are inseparable from
warfare, and those who take up arms must steel themselves
against them.
In The Field Once More.
It was the 10th of October, 1861, when I left Leesburg and
went to the headquarters of General Evans, where I met quite a
number of acquaintances, and was received with great
cordiality by them. A young officer of the eighteenth Mississippi
regiment invited me to take up my quarters with him; but as I
had all my camp equipage with me, I preferred setting up my
own tent. Seeking General Evans, I showed him my papers,
and asked to be employed. He accordingly sent me to Colonel
Burt, of the eighth Virginia regiment, who, however, told me
that as he had no vacancy in his command, he could do nothing
for me. I had no other resource now but to await events, and
see what should turn up in my favor, feeling a little disappointed
at not being able to become attached definitely to some
command, but with ample confidence in my own ability to take
care of myself, and to find some means of having a hand in the
expected battle, whenever it came off.
A Friend Of My Youth.
At Hunton's headquarters I had the pleasure of meeting
Colonel Featherstone, of the seventeenth Mississippi regiment.
This fine officer I had known when I was quite a small child,
and I was decidedly amused at the idea of renewing my
acquaintance with him under existing circumstances. He had
not the shadow of an idea that the dashing little lieutenant who
stood before him was a woman whom he had known as a
child. He, however, took a very polite interest in me, and
asked where I was from, and a variety of other questions,
which I had to draw rather extensively upon my imagination to
answer in proper style. I told him that I belonged to
Mississippi, and a good deal more of the same kind of fiction,
which, if not quite as interesting as the truth would have been,
was sufficiently satisfying for the moment.
After we had chatted a little while, Colonel Featherstone
invited me over to his tent, and handing out a bottle of whiskey,
told me to help myself.
"No, thank you, colonel," I said; "I never drink anything
strong; it does not agree with me, and I accordingly make it a
rule not to touch it."
He did not urge me when he noticed that I was very positive
in declining; but pouring out a sizable one for himself, said,
"Well, a drink of the right kind of liquor, now and then, is a pretty
good thing, I think. Here's my regards;" — and, nodding towards
me, he swallowed it at a gulp, without winking an eye.
He then said, "Lieutenant, you can turn in here if you wish,
if you have not been assigned to quarters. You are welcome to
all I have, and can make yourself at home."
I thanked him, and said that there was, fortunately, no
necessity for trespassing on his hospitality. Whereupon he said,
"If you won't stop with me, come in and see me often. I will be
glad to talk to you."
Thanking him again for his kindness, I said good-night, and
went over to my own tent, where I found Bob sound asleep.
Arousing him, I ordered him to be up by three o'clock in the
morning, and to cook plenty of provisions, as we expected
something to happen. The darkey knew very well that I meant
a fight was probably coming off soon; but by this time he had
tolerably well gotten over his first scare, and was beginning
to find enjoyment in the excitements of warfare, as well as
myself. He grinned, and promised compliance with my order,
and I lay down to sleep, convinced from what I had heard
during the evening, that my desire to participate in another
battle was likely to be gratified very soon.
The Battle Of Ball's Bluff.
The next morning, October 22, I was up, and ready for
whatever might happen, at an early hour. Having learned that a
large force of the enemy, belonging to the command of Colonel
Baker, had succeeded in crossing at Edwards' Ferry, and had
gained the Bluffs, prompt preparations were made to give them
a warm reception.
The brigade under the command of General Evans consisted
of four regiments, — the eighth Virginia, and the thirteenth,
seventeenth, and eighteenth Mississippi, which were
respectively commanded by Colonels Hunton, Burt,
Featherstone, and Barksdale. The first brunt of the fight was
borne by Lieutenant Colonel Janifer, who, with five companies,
was covering the approach to Leesburg.
About twelve o'clock, the eighth Virginia regiment
advanced to Janifer's assistance, and this, I saw, was my
chance if I wished to participate in the battle. My darkey had
his fighting blood up too, and was, apparently, as anxious as I
was to have a crack at the enemy; for, he said, "Give me a
gun, Mas' Harry. I want to shoot, too."
"You'll have a chance to do some fighting pretty soon,
Bob, if I am not mistaken," said I, as we pushed forward as
fast as we could in the direction of the firing, which became
more rapid every moment.
Immediately on top of the Bluff, where the enemy had
succeeded in effecting a landing, and for some distance back,
there was a tolerably open piece of ground, cut up somewhat
by ridges and hollows, and surrounded by a thick growth of
woods. This timber for a while concealed the combatants from
each other, and it was impossible for us to tell what force we
were contending with. The woods seemed to be alive with
combatants, and it was thought that the enemy was strongly
fortified. Notwithstanding the uncertainties with regard to the
number of our opponents, we attacked with spirit, and for a
time the fight was bravely carried on by both armies. The
enemy certainly fought exceedingly well, especially
considering the precariousness of their position, although, of
course, we did not know at the time the attack was made that
our foes were in such a desperate predicament.
Colonel Burt, with his eighteenth Mississippi regiment,
advanced to the attack on the left of our line, while Janifer and
the Virginians held the centre. Burt's Mississippians were
compelled to undergo a most terrific fire from the enemy, who
were concealed in the hollows, but they succeeded in holding
them in check, although they suffered severely, and Colonel
Burt himself was numbered among the slain before the
victory was won.
The Fight At Its Hottest.
At three o'clock, Colonel Featherstone came up with his
regiment, and advanced at a double-quick to the assistance of
Burt. The firing now became general all along the line, and the
men on both sides seemed to be disposed to fight with the
utmost fury. I thought the struggle at Bull Run a desperate one,
but that battle at its fiercest did not begin to equal this; and
when finally we did succeed in routing the enemy, I
experienced a sense of satisfaction and relief that was overwhelming.
For three weary hours the fighting continued
without intermission; and although for a long while the result
was dubious, at length, as the chilly October day was about
closing, the enemy having lost a great number of men and
officers, including Colonel Baker, and being hemmed in on
three sides, were driven in confusion into the river.
Shortly after the fight commenced, I took charge of a
company which had lost all its officers, and I do not think that
either my men or myself failed to do our full duty. Perhaps, if I
had been compelled to manoeuvre my command in the open
field, I might not have done it as skilfully as some others
would, although I believe that I could have played the part
of a captain quite as well as a good many of them who held
regular commissions as commanders of companies, and a good
deal better than some others who aspired to be officers before
learning the first rudiments of their business, and without having
the pluck to conduct themselves before the enemy in a
manner at all correspondent to their braggart style of behavior
when not smelling gunpowder under compulsion. In this battle,
however, fighting as we were for the most part in the woods,
there was little or no manoeuvring to be done, and my main
duties were to keep the men together, and to set them an
example. This latter I certainly did.
After the battle was over, the first lieutenant of the company
which I was commanding came in and relieved me, stating that
he had been taken prisoner, but had succeeded in making his
escape in the confusion incident to the Federal defeat. I did not
say anything, but had my very serious doubts as to the story
which he told being the exact truth. He had a very sheepish
look, as if he was ashamed of himself for playing a sneaking,
cowardly trick; and I shall always believe that when the firing
commenced, he found an opportunity to slink away to the rear
for the purpose of getting out of the reach of danger.
I have seen a good many officers like this one, who were
brave enough when strutting about in the streets of cities and
villages, showing themselves off in their uniforms to the women,
or when airing their authority in camp, by bullying the soldiers
under them, but who were the most arrant cowards under fire,
and who ought to have been court-marshalled and shot,
instead of being permitted to disgrace their uniforms, and to
demoralize their men, by their dastardly behavior when in the
face of the enemy. My colored boy Bob was a better
soldier than some of the white men who thought themselves
immensely his superiors; and having possessed himself of a
gun, he fought as well as he knew how, like the rest of us.
When the enemy gave way, I could hear Bob yelling
vociferously; and I confess that I was proud of the darkey's
pluck and enthusiasm.
The Enemy Put To Flight.
The daylight was beginning to fail, when, at length, the
enemy broke, and ran towards the river, a confused mob of
fugitives, instead of an organized and disciplined army. I was
so wearied that I could scarcely stand. But at this moment I
would rather have died than have faltered. All my Southern
blood was stirred in my veins, and however little my help might
be, I was resolved to give it to complete the victory.
The yells of triumph that broke from our boys, as they saw
their foes flying before them, were terrific; and they rushed
after them, pursuing them through the woods, and over the
open ground, to the very edge of the Bluff. General Evans gave
orders to drive them into the river, or to capture them; and
every officer and man seemed animated by a determination to
make the defeat of the enemy as signal as possible. I advanced
my company, in compliance with Evans's orders, until we
neared the river, when I called a halt; saying, as I did so, to the
boys, "This is warm work, but they are badly whipped, I
think."
Looking under me into a little ravine, I espied a Yankee
sergeant reaching for a musket, evidently with the intention of
treating me to its contents. Levelling a pistol at him, I cried out,
"No, you don't! Drop that, and come up here, you scoundrel!"
He obeyed in very short order; and when he had reached
me, I said, "What do you mean by that? If it wasn't for
having the name of murdering a prisoner, I would shoot you."
He answered, sullenly, "I don't care a d——n whether you do
or not;" and I don't believe that he did care much, just then, for
he evidently felt badly at having been defeated.
While talking with this prisoner, a number of other fugitives
were discovered hid in the gulleys, whom I immediately
captured.
"To what command do you belong?" I asked.
They told me that they belonged to the fifteenth Massachusetts
regiment, but that the army was under the command of
General Stone.
Horrible Incidents.
At the point where I stood the Potomac River was very
wide, and it presented a sight such as I prayed that I might
never behold again. The enemy were literally driven down
the Bluff, and into the river, and crowds of them were floundering
in the water, and grappling with death. This horrible
spectacle made me shudder; for, although they were my
foes, they were human beings, and my heart must have been
hard, indeed, could it not have felt for their sufferings. I
was willing to fight them to death's door in the open field,
and to ask no favors, taking the same chances for life as
they had; but I had no heart for their ruthless slaughter. All the
woman in me revolted at the fiendish delight which some
of our soldiers displayed at the sight of the terrible agony
endured by those who had, but a short time before, been contesting
the field with them so valiantly, and I could scarcely
refrain from making some decisive effort to put a stop to the
carnage, and to relieve my suffering foes. For the first time
since putting on my uniform I was thrown off my guard, and
should certainly have done something to betray my secret had I
not fortunately restrained myself in time. Such scenes as these,
however, are inseparable from warfare, and they must be
endured by those who adopt a soldier's career. The pitiable
spectacles which followed our brilliant victory at Ball's Bluff,
however, had the effect of satisfying my appetite for fighting
for a time; and after it was all over, I was by no means as
anxious for another battle, as I had been after the victory at
Bull Run.
I have not the ability to give a minute description of the
horrid incidents attending the rout of the Federals at Ball's
Bluff, even if I had the disposition. As this battle, however, was
an important event in my military career, and as it made a very
painful impression upon me, some account, even if a very
meagre one, of one of the most striking features of the affair,
seems to be necessary in order to make my narrative complete.
When the enemy broke before the galling fire which we
poured into them, they stampeded for the river, a disordered
and panic-stricken crowd. Over the Bluff they went, pell-mell,
leaping, rolling, and tumbling, more like a herd of frightened
buffalo fleeing from the savages of the plains, than human beings,
hundreds being shot down while attempting to cross, and hundreds of
others being captured before they could gain the river. I was sick
with horror; and as the cold shivers ran through me, and my
heart stood still in my bosom, I shut my eyes for a moment,
wishing that it was all over, but only to open them again to
gaze on a spectacle that had a terrible fascination for me,
in spite of its horrors.
Escape Of Colonel Devens.
Directly, one of the prisoners whom I was guarding,
shouted, "There goes my colonel!"
"What is his name?" I inquired.
"Colonel Devens, of the fifteenth Massachusetts
regiment," he replied, as he pointed to a figure striking out in
an attempt to swim across the river.
I said, "I hope the poor fellow will get safely to land, for
he has fought bravely, and deserves a better fate than a
watery grave."
Colonel Devens, it appears, in the confusion got separated
from his men, and seeing no chance of rallying them, or of
doing anything to turn the tide of defeat, had, when all hope of
ever effecting an orderly retreat was gone, sought to save
himself in the desperate manner I have indicated. He was,
apparently, a powerful swimmer, for he was soon out of musket-shot,
and I believe he managed to gain the other shore. He had my
best wishes in the attempt at any rate, for I have not a cruel or
vindictive nature, and at this time my womanly sympathies
were being awakened in the liveliest manner.
When the rout began, there was but one boat in the river,
and this was quickly filled with a struggling mass of humanity,
each man being intent only on making good his own escape
from the deadly fire of the Confederates. On the bank, a
dense crowd of fugitives were throwing away their arms, and
divesting themselves of their clothing, some of them,
apparently, resolved to save themselves, like Colonel Devens,
by swimming. A large number of those who plunged into the
river were drowned in the icy waters, and the shrieks of these
poor fellows fairly appalled me as I heard them, and rang in my
ears for days afterwards.
Our men had orders to keep up a fire from the Bluff, and
only too many seemed to delight in the bloody work, as they
poured volley after volley into the fugitives. On my left, a
Federal captain came charging up the hill at the head of his
men, apparently not aware of the full extent of the disaster
which had befallen his comrades. As soon, however, as he
reached a place where he could survey the field, he saw plainly
that it was useless to attempt further resistance, and so he raised a
white flag, and surrendered himself and command.
I fired my revolver at another officer — a major, I believe —
who was in the act of jumping into the river. I saw him spring
into the air, and fall; and then turned my head away, shuddering
at what I had done, although I believed that it was only my
duty. An officer near me exclaimed, "Lieutenant, your ball took
him;" — words that sent a thrill of horror through me.
The most awful episode of the day was the sinking of the
boats containing the wounded and dying; and from this I turned
away, sick at heart, unable to endure the sight of it.
So ended the battle of Ball's Bluff; and the soldiers of the
Confederacy had won another great victory, although at a
terrible sacrifice; for many of our bravest officers and men
were slain, and a great number severely wounded. I had the
satisfaction of knowing that I had done my duty, and had
fought as bravely as the bravest. It cost me a pang to think
of the noble fellows who fell in defence of the cause they
loved, and I particularly mourned the death of the gallant
Colonel Burt. I had regrets, too, for the foemen who were so
ruthlessly slaughtered, and would willingly have spared them
had it been in my power to do so. There were, I think, about
nineteen hundred men engaged at Ball's Bluff on the
Confederate side, and six pieces of artillery. Exactly how many
the Federals had I do not know, but their numbers were
certainly equal to ours, if not greater.
When night finally closed upon the battle-field, and put an
end to the carnage, I was completely used up by the fatigues
and excitements of the day, and not even the terrible scenes
which haunted me in my mind's eye, long after I had ceased to
gaze upon them, could prevent me from dropping into a sound
and dreamless sleep.
CHAPTER X.
FIRST EXPERIENCES AS A SPY.
Reaction after the Excitements of a Battle. — The Necessity for mental
and bodily Occupation. — I form a new Project. — War as we imagine
it, and as it is. — Fighting not the only Thing to be done. — The
Dreams of Youth, and the Realities of Experience. — The Secret of
Success. — The Difficulties which the Confederate Commanders
experienced in obtaining Information of the Movements of the Enemy. —
What a Woman can do that a Man cannot. — A Visit to Mrs. Tyree. —
The only Way of keeping a Secret. — I assume the Garments of my own
Sex again as a Disguise. — Getting across the Potomac at Night. —
Asleep in a Wheat-Stack. — A suspicious Farmer. — A Friend in Need.
— Maryland Hospitality. — Off for Washington.
F
too restless and impulsive a disposition to endure
patiently the prolonged inaction which seemed inevitable
after a battle, it fretted me to be obliged to lounge about camp,
or to participate in the too often most demoralizing amusements of the
city, as I had been compelled to do for many weeks after the fight at
Bull Run. I was disgusted, too, at the difficulties which presented
themselves at every step whenever I attempted to get myself
attached to a regular command, or to be assigned for the kind
of service which I felt best qualified to perform, and which was
most in accordance with my tastes. It was an absolute
necessity for me to be in motion, to be doing something, and the
slow and inconclusive progress of the military movements
annoyed me beyond expression. The inevitable reaction, after
the intense excitements of the battle of Ball's Bluff, caused a
depression of spirits which I felt I must do something to shake
off. The terrible sights and sounds of that battle haunted me
night and day, for I could not help thinking of them, and the
more I thought of them the more horrible they appeared.
I determined, therefore, very shortly after the battle, to put
into execution a project I had for some time been meditating,
which would require the exercise of all my faculties, and which
would give me constant employment for mind and body, such
as the routine of camp life did not afford, and which would
compel me to concentrate my mind on the invention and
execution of plans for the achievement of definite results for
the cause of Southern independence.
Before entering upon the career of a soldier, I of course
knew a great deal about military life, having been the wife of
an army officer, and having resided at frontier stations, but I
had nevertheless very crude and superficial notions about the
exigencies of warfare. My ideas, however, were no cruder
than those of thousands of others, for it is very doubtful
whether any but a few veterans understood what would have
to be gone through with by soldiers in the field, especially
when large armies were operating against each other over an
immense stretch of country.
The books I had read, in which the doings of heroes and
heroines were recorded, devoted a large space to the
description of battles, and these, as a matter of course, being
more interesting and exciting than the other portions, it was
only natural, perhaps, that the notion should become fixed in my
mind that fighting was a soldier's chief, if not only employment.
Romance And Reality.
I was soon disillusioned on these points, and, after a very
brief experience, discovered that actual warfare was far
different from what I had supposed it would be. Neither of the
battles in which I had thus far been engaged impressed me at
all as I had expected they would, although, in some particulars,
they were agreeable disappointments; for there was an
exhilaration in an actual, hotly-contested fight that far
surpassed anything my imagination had pictured. Battles,
however, I found were likely to be few and far between, while
there were thousands of disagreeable incidents connected with
military life which I had never suspected, and of which my
husband's warnings had scarcely given me the slightest hint.
The inaction of the camp, when one is day after day hoping
and half expecting something startling will happen, only to be
subjected to perpetual disappointment, and the dull round of
camp duties, and the trivial devices adopted to kill time, after a
very brief period become most oppressive.
Not only did I discover that fighting was not the only, or the
most frequent, employment of the soldier, but I soon
awakened to the fact that, in a great war, like the one in which
I was now taking part, it was not always the men who wore
the uniforms and handled the muskets who performed the most
efficient services. As there were other things besides fighting
to do, so there must be other than soldiers to perform
necessary portions of the work, and to aid in advancing the
interests of the cause.
Dreams Of Delusion.
Many of our hopes, anticipations, and aspirations are mere
dreams of delusion, which can have no practical fulfilment in
this working-day world, and it sometimes costs a pang to
dismiss forever a cherished but mistaken idea, and to weave
our own web of romance from the parti-colored threads of
commonplace reality; it is like parting with a portion of our own
being. But, the illusion once dispelled, we are able to step
forward more firmly and more resolutely, to act the part which
the will of Providence assigns us to play in the great drama of
life.
We may regret that the dreams of our youth do not come
true, just as we once loved to hope that they would, almost
without endeavor on our part; but who shall say that our own
life romances, woven out of the tissues of events from day to
day, with much labor, doubt, and pain, are not fairer and
brighter than any imagination could create? It is good to do
one's duty quietly amid the rush of great events, even when
the path of duty lies in hidden places, where the gaze of the
crowd penetrates not, where applause cannot follow; and one's
own satisfaction at duty well and nobly performed, is, after all,
the best recompense that can be had.
To be a second Joan of Arc was a mere girlish fancy, which
my very first experiences as a soldier dissipated forever; and it
did not take me long to discover that I needed no model, but
that, to win success in the career I had chosen, I must be
simply myself, and not a copy, even in the remotest particular,
of anybody else; and that the secret of success consisted in
watching the current of events, and in taking advantage of
circumstances as they arose.
In a life so novel as that I was now leading, however, it took
me some time to become sufficiently informed to be able
to do anything effective in the way of shaping my career; I
was, of necessity, obliged to go ahead somewhat at random,
and to wait and learn, not only what I could do with the best
effect, but what there was for me to do. In assuming the garb
of a soldier, I had no other idea than to do a soldier's duty: this
was my ambition, and I scarcely gave thought to anything else.
The experiences of actual warfare, however, soon had the
effect of convincing me that a woman like myself, who had a
talent for assuming disguises, and who, like me, was possessed
of courage, resolution, and energy, backed up by a ready wit, a
plausible address, and attractive manners, had it in her power to
perform many services of the most vital importance, which it
would be impossible for a man to even attempt.
Difficulties In Obtaining Information.
The difficulty which our commander experienced in gaining
accurate and thoroughly reliable information with regard to the
movements of the enemy, the rumors that prevailed of the
enormous preparations being made by the Federal government
to crush the South, an insatiable desire to see and to hear for
myself what was going on within the enemy's lines, all
stimulated me to make an attempt, the hazardous character of
which I well knew; but, trusting to my woman's wit to see me
safely through, I resolved that the attempt should be made.
My plans were tolerably well matured when the battle of
Ball's Bluff took place, and I should probably have put them in
execution before I did, had it not been for the insatiate desire I
had to take part in another fight. After that battle, I more than
ever felt the necessity for some constant, active
employment, for I chafed under the ennui of the camp, and felt
irresistibly impelled to be moving about and doing something.
I accordingly was not long in resolving that the time had now
arrived for me to attempt something more than I had yet done,
and for me to effect a coup that might either make or mar my
fortunes, but that, whatever its result might be, would give me
the excitement I craved, and demonstrate my abilities, and my
disposition to serve the Confederacy in such a signal manner
that it would be impossible for those in authority any longer
to ignore me.
A Woman's Advantages And Disadvantages.
A woman labors under some disadvantages in an attempt to
fight her own way in the world, and at the same time, from the
mere fact that she is a woman, she can often do things that a
man cannot. I have no hesitation in saying that I wish I had
been created a man instead of a woman. This is what is the
matter with nearly all the women who go about complaining of
the wrongs of our sex. But, being a woman, I was bent on
making the best of it; and having for some time now figured
successfully in the garments of the other sex, I resolved upon
resuming those of my own for a season, for the
accomplishment of a purpose I had in my mind. This purpose I
felt sure I could accomplish as a woman; and although I had a
tolerably good appreciation of the perils I should run, I had
confidence in my abilities to see myself through, and the perils
attending my enterprise were incentives, rather than otherwise,
for me to attempt it.
Having obtained a letter of introduction to General Leonidas
Polk, and my transportation papers, — for it was my intention,
after making the trip I had immediately in view, to visit the part
of the country in which his army was operating, as it was
more familiar to me, and I thought that I could perform more
efficient service there than in Virginia, — I turned in my camp
equipage to the quartermaster, and bidding farewell to my
friends, started off in search of new adventures.
Stopping in Leesburg, I went, in company with a couple of
other officers, to pay a visit to Mrs. Tyree, a brave and true-hearted
Virginia lady, who, with her interesting family, had
suffered greatly through the devastation of her property by the
enemy. We tried, by every argument we could imagine, to
persuade her to remove to some safer locality, representing
that the Federals, though defeated at Ball's Bluff, were likely to
repeat the attack at any time, and to march on Leesburg with a
large force. Our appeals were in vain, however, and she
answered every argument, by saying, "This is my home, and I
will perish in it, if necessary." I heartily wished that I had a
force of soldiers under my command at the moment, so that I
could compel her to remove for her own sake and that of her
family; and when I said adieu to her, it was with the sincerest
admiration for her inflexible courage and her devotion to
the cause of the South.
The Way To Keep A Secret.
Leaving my boy where he would be taken care of, I stated to
my acquaintances that I intended to make a journey, and that I
expected to be gone about ten days, but did not tell any one where
I was going, or what my plans were. No one but myself
had the slightest notion as to what project I had on foot, for I
felt that success would very largely depend upon my secret
being kept to myself, at least until I had accomplished, or had
tried to accomplish, what I proposed. What I dreaded more
than any dangers I was likely to be exposed to was the ridicule
that would probably meet me in case of failure, to say nothing
of the probabilities in favor of my sex being discovered, or at
least suspected. But ridicule, as well as danger, was what I
resolved to brave when putting on male attire, and I really
dreaded it less than I did my own heart-burnings in the event of
my not winning the desperate game I was playing. The way to
keep a secret, as I had long since found out, is not to tell it to
anybody; and acting upon this very excellent principle, I have
generally succeeded in keeping my secrets — and I have, in my
time, had some important ones — until the proper moment for
revealing them came. Some people are never happy when
possessed of a secret until they have told it to somebody else,
of course in the strictest confidence. My experience is that this
is a sure way to get the matter, whatever it may be, put into
circulation as a bit of general information.
Assuming A New Disguise.
It was necessary, however, for me to have some
assistance in getting my enterprise started, just as it had been
for me to select a confidant when I first assumed the uniform
of an officer; and I would say here that, to the infinite honor of
the friend whose aid I sought on that occasion, the secret of
my transformation was as faithfully kept as if it were his own;
but, as the circumstances were different, a different kind of an
agent was in this case selected. My appeal, this time, was to
the strongest sentiments of self-interest, and even then my
confidant was only intrusted with the knowledge of a change of
apparel.
Going to an old negro woman who had washed for me, and
who had shown considerable fondness for me, I told her that
I intended visiting the Yankees for the purpose of seeing them
about coming and freeing the colored folk, and asked her to let
me have a suit of woman's clothes, so that I could get through
the lines without being stopped. I made up quite a long yarn
about what I proposed to do, and the poor old soul, believing all
I told her without a moment's hesitation, consented to aid me in
every way she could, her ardor being materially quickened by a
twenty dollar Confederate note which I handed her.
She was not long in having me attired in the best she had, —
a calico dress, a woollen shawl, a sun-bonnet, and a pair of
shoes much too large for me, — and hiding away my uniform
where it would be safe during my absence, she started me off
with a full expectation that I would be back in a couple of
weeks, with the whole Yankee army at my back, for the
purpose of liberating all the slaves. The old woman put such
implicit faith in me that I really felt sorry at deceiving her, but
quieted my conscience with the thought that lying was as
necessary as fighting in warfare, and that the prospects were
that I would be compelled to do much more fibbing than this
before the errand upon which I was about starting would be
achieved.
Crossing The Potomac.
Managing to make my way to the river without attracting any
particular attention, I found an old negro who had a boat, and
making up a story that I fancied would answer the purpose, I
struck a bargain with him to take me across to the Maryland
shore for twenty-five dollars. He was eager to get the money,
probably never having handled so much before in his life at any
one time, but warned me that it would be a risky piece of
business, for the weather was very cold, the river broad and
deep, and the current strong, and there was considerable
danger of my being fired at by the pickets on either bank. I told
him that I was not afraid to take all the risks, and that I thought
I could stand the cold. I accordingly concealed myself in his
cabin until the time for commencing the crossing arrived,
neither of us deeming it prudent to start before midnight.
It was after midnight before we were launched in our
little craft on the black, swift-running water of the Potomac,
and it was quite three hours before we reached the opposite
shore. My old ferryman pulled lustily, but it was hard work
for him, although the handsome fee he was to receive when his
task was accomplished was a decided stimulant. He really had
the best of it, however, in having some work to do, for the
night air was bitter cold, and I was thinly clad. I would have
been glad to have taken a turn at the oars, just for the sake
of warming myself, had I believed myself possessed of the
physical strength to wield them with efficiency. I was too
eager to get over this unpleasant and hazardous part of my
journey, however, to incur any delay by attempting to pull an
oar, and bore the sharp winds that swept over the water, and at
times seemed to cut me to the bones, with what equanimity I
could command.
At length we reached the Maryland side of the river, to my
infinite satisfaction, for I was numb with the cold, and stiff in
all my limbs, from the cramped position in which I had been
obliged to sit in the boat, and was heartily glad of an
opportunity to tread dry land once more. Dismissing the
boatman, and enjoining him not to say anything, I made my way
to a farm-house which I espied a short distance from the place of
landing, and about four o'clock in the morning, finding no better
place to rest my weary limbs, I crept into a wheat-stack, and
slept there until daylight.
I scarcely know whether to say that I enjoyed this sort of
thing or not. For a thinly clad woman to find no better place for
repose during a chilly night in the latter part of October, after
having endured the cutting blasts for three hours while crossing
the Potomac in an open boat, was certainly hard lines. It is true
that, for some months, I had accustomed myself to tolerably
rough living, but this was a trifle rougher than anything I had as
yet experienced. As there was no one but myself to applaud
my heroism, this particular episode did not, and could not, have
the same attraction that some even more perilous ones had;
and yet, despite the discomforts of the situation, I had a certain
amount of satisfaction, and even of pleasure, in going through
with it. My enjoyment — if I can designate my peculiar
emotions by such a word — I can only attribute to my insatiable
love for adventure; to the same overmastering desire to do
difficult, dangerous, and exciting things, and to accomplish
hazardous enterprises, that had induced me to assume the
dress of the other sex, and to figure as a soldier on the battle-field.
When I crept into that wheat-stack, however, I was not in
a mood to indulge in any philosophical reflections on the
situation,
or on my own motives or feelings; I was simply in search
of a reasonably sheltered place where I could repose until morning;
and having found one, I was not long in closing my eyes, and
lapsing into temporary oblivion of the cares and trials of this
wicked world.
I managed to get a nap of a couple of hours' duration, when
I was awakened by the increasing light, and by the noises of
the farm-yard. Adjusting my clothing as well as I could, and
shaking off the straw that clung to me, I approached the house,
a little dubious with regard to the kind of reception I should get,
but trusting to luck to be able to obtain what I wanted. A man
came out to meet me, and looked rather sullenly at me, as if he
thought me a suspicious character, whom it would be well to
have cautious dealings with. My appearance was such that
there was certainly good cause for his distrust. The old colored
woman's calico dress, woollen shawl, sun-bonnet, and shoes did
not come near fitting me, while my slumbers in the wheat-stack
had not tended to make me a particularly attractive object. I
had no difficulty in believing that I was a perfect fright, and
was amused, rather than displeased, at the rather discourteous
reception I met with.
Plucking up courage, however, I advanced, and told him that
I had been driven out of Virginia, and was trying to get back to
my people in Tennessee. I did not give any hint of my political
predilections, thinking it more prudent to find how he and his
folk stood first. I then asked him if I could not go into the house
and warm myself, and get some breakfast, as I was both cold
and hungry, and I suppose must have looked so pitiable that he
felt compelled to grant my request, if only for charity's sake. He
accordingly invited me into the dining-room, and called his wife.
When the woman came, I told a long rigmarole, taking pains
to show that I had some money, with which I could, if
necessary, pay for what I ate and drank. My story, I saw
plainly, did not take very well, and the man was evidently afraid
to say much. The woman, however, soon let out on the
Yankees with such fiery energy that I understood at once how
matters stood, and consequently began to feel more at my
ease.
I now began to embellish my story with plenty of abuse of
the Yankees, and with such details of the sufferings I had
endured on account of my having sided with the South, that
their sympathies were at once aroused, and I felt certain that
I could easily get all the assistance from them that I wished.
Both of them — but the man especially — were eager to know all
about the battle. I had told them that I had just come from the
neighborhood of Leesburg, and I accordingly gave them an
account of the affair, dilating particularly upon the magnificent
manner in which the Confederates had whipped the Yankees,
and prophesying that, with a little more of this kind of fighting,
there would soon be an end of the war.
The woman now invited me to a nice, warm breakfast, which
I enjoyed immensely, for I was desperately hungry after my
night's adventure. During the meal I showed them a letter,
written by myself, for use in such an emergency as this, which,
of course, tended to confirm the story I told, and treated them
to the style of conversation they evidently liked to hear. After
breakfast was over, the woman, taking pity upon my mean
attire, insisted upon dressing me in some of her own clothing. I
was soon, therefore, in a somewhat more presentable
condition than I had been, and, having obtained such
information as they were able to give in regard to the best
method of proceeding in order speedily to reach my
destination, I bade them good-by, sincerely grateful for their
kindness, and started for Washington, where I hoped to be able
to pick up some useful bits of information, — in fact, to make
what the soldiers would call, a reconnoissance in force.
CHAPTER XI.
IN WASHINGTON.
Inside the Enemy's Lines. — Arrival at the Federal Capital. —
Renewing an Acquaintance with an old Friend. — What I found out
by a judicious System of Questioning. — The Federal Plans with regard
to the Mississippi. — An Attack on New Orleans surmised. — A Tour
around Washington. — Visit to the War Department, and Interview with
Secretary Cameron and General Wessells. — An Introduction to the
President. — Impressions of Mr. Lincoln. — I succeed in finding out
a Thing or two at the Post-Office. — Sudden Departure from Washington.
— Return to Leesburg. — Departure for Columbus, Kentucky.
AVING
once penetrated the lines of the enemy, there was,
I knew, little to fear. As a Confederate soldier, I was
figuring in a disguise which was likely, at any time, to get
me into trouble of some sort, and not the least danger I
saw was that of being arrested as a spy. When I first
undertook to be a soldier, this was an idea that never
occurred to me; but a very short experience in
actual campaigning taught me that I would have
to be careful to prevent the fact that I was disguised from being
found out, if for no other reason than that my loyalty to the
Southern cause might not be suspected. I relied, however, upon the
good fighting I had done, and the other services I had
rendered, which were proofs of the genuineness of my devotion,
as well as the influence of my friends to get me out of any scrape
into which I might fall through the discovery that I was not a man.
Here, in the enemy's country, however, I passed for exactly
what I was, with nobody nearer than Memphis who knew me,
both as a man and as a woman, and I consequently felt
perfectly secure in moving about pretty much as I chose,
having a plausible story on the end of my tongue to tell
anybody who might question me. I concluded that, as it was
most likely I would meet in Washington people who knew me
as a woman, — indeed, I relied greatly upon finding some
acquaintance through whom I could be able to obtain the kind
of information I desired, — that it would be safer, and in all
respects better for me to attempt no disguise, but to figure
as myself, and as nobody else.
On The Road To Washington.
The kindness of my friend, the farmer's wife, in furnishing
me with an outfit from her own wardrobe, enabled me to make
a presentable appearance, for, although I was by no means
elegantly attired, my clothing was quite good enough for me to
pass as a lady; and when I left the farm-house and started en route
for Washington, it was with a light heart, and with no
apprehensions of difficulty, except, perhaps, in getting back
safely, and of being able to resume my disguise again without
being discovered. The prospect of having some trouble in these
respects, however, only gave a zest to the adventure; and as I
had managed to get safely within the Federal lines, I had little
doubt that I would be able to elude the Confederate pickets in
returning, especially as I understood how matters were
managed on the Virginia side, and knew, or thought I knew,
how to elude the vigilance of our boys.
Between my starting-point on the Maryland side and
Washington, I saw a good many soldiers, from which I judged
that the approaches to the Federal capital were strongly
guarded, and that very efficient means were being taken to
prevent anything like a surprise on the part of the
Confederates. This was the most important information I
succeeded in obtaining; and except that I was enabled to form
some estimates of the force that was guarding the Maryland
side of the Potomac it was of no special value, as it was well
understood among the Confederates that the enemy were well
prepared to resist an attack upon Washington, and were
concentrating a large army in and about the city.
There were matters better worth knowing than this that I
hoped to discover; and to discover them, it was necessary for
me to go to Washington, and when there, to obtain facilities for
conversing with people who knew what I wanted to know.
I had a plan of procedure in my mind in which I had great
confidence, but I really trusted more to circumstances than to
any definite plan, having ample belief in my own ability to take
advantage of anything that might turn up. While on the way to
Washington, therefore, I judged it prudent to do as little talking
as possible, although I kept my eyes and ears open for any
scraps of useful knowledge that might present themselves.
Arrival In Washington.
On arriving in Washington, I went to Brown's Hotel, and
having learned that an officer of the regular Federal army, with
whom I was well acquainted, and who had been a warm
personal friend of my late husband, was in the city, I sent him a
note, asking him to call on me. He came to see me very
promptly on receiving my message, and greeting me with a
good deal of cordiality, expressed a desire to aid me in any
manner that lay in his power. I told him that I was just from
New York, and making up a plausible story to account for my
being in Washington, began to question him about the progress
of the war. He evidently had not the slightest idea that I was in
Washington for any other purpose than what he would have
considered a perfectly legitimate one, and consequently spoke
without any reserve concerning a number of matters about
which he would certainly have kept silent had he suspected that
I had just come from the other side of the Potomac, and that
my object was to pick up items of information that would be
useful to the Confederacy.
He greatly lamented the defeat which the Federals had met
with at Ball's Bluff, and from what he said, I judged that the
affair was the great sensation of the hour, and that it had
caused much discouragement, not only in the army, but among
all classes of people at the North. Indeed, my friend was
decidedly blue when discussing the subject, and expressed
himself in very energetic terms with regard to the rebels, little
thinking that he was conversing with one who had played a
most active part in the very thickest of the battle. He went on
to say, however, that it was expected that the defeat at Ball's
Bluff would be more than compensated for very shortly. and
that in Kentucky, particularly, the Federals were making great
preparations for an active campaign, which, it was hoped,
would do material damage to the Confederacy.
I succeeded, by judicious questioning, in obtaining a few
points from him with regard to the operations of the Federal
forces in the West; but although he was tolerably well posted
about the general movements, he was apparently not
accurately informed with regard to particulars. It is probable,
too, that he might have known a good deal that he did not
choose to tell, even to me, unsuspicious as he was about my
real character.
Something Worth Knowing.
The information of most vital moment, however, that I
succeeded in obtaining from him was, that active preparations
were being made to secure possession of the upper Mississippi,
and that a very large fleet was being fitted out for the purpose
of blockading the mouth of the river. I instantly surmised from
this that an attack on New Orleans was in contemplation, and
resolved to bend my energies, during my stay in Washington, to
the task of finding out all I could with regard to the actual
intentions of the Federal government. I did succeed in obtaining
ample confirmation of all my friend told me, and to a limited
extent of my guesses. Those, however, who really knew, were
very close-mouthed about what particular work was being cut
out for the fleet to perform, and the desire seemed to be to
leave the impression that it was to undertake blockade duty
simply, and to close the mouths of the river to the ingress and
egress of vessels. There were some things which I heard,
however, that did not exactly conform to this theory, and by the
time I left Washington, I was tolerably well convinced that a
grand blow was shortly to be struck, either at Mobile or New
Orleans, but most likely at the latter city. I pumped, in a quiet
way, everybody I met, who was at all likely to know anything;
but I was really afraid to push my inquiries too far, or to seem
too inquisitive, as I did not care to be suspected as a spy and
put under surveillance, especially as I learned that the government
was greatly annoyed by the presence of numbers of
Confederate spies in Washington, and was disposed to deal
vigorously with them if they were caught.
This, it must be remembered, was simply a reconnoitring
expedition, undertaken entirely on my own account, without
authority from anybody; and while I, of course, wanted to find
out all I could, my real object was more to make an experiment
than anything else, and I did not wish to spoil my chances for
future operations — for I fully
expected to visit Washington again on similar service to this
— by getting into trouble just then, and consequently making
myself liable to suspicion in the future.
After a somewhat prolonged and very pleasant conversation
with my friend, he took his departure, promising, however, to
call the next day, and as I was a stranger in Washington, — having
never visited the city before, — to take me to the
different places of interest. This was exactly what I wanted,
for I was desirous of being informed, as soon as possible,
exactly where the public offices were situated, and the best
means of obtaining access to them, and I counted greatly upon
this obliging and very gallant gentleman unsuspectingly starting
me on the right road for the accomplishment of the ends I had
in view.
He made his appearance promptly at the appointed hour the
next morning, and took me to see the Patent Office, the
Treasury Department, and the War Department. With this
latter, especially, I was, as might be supposed, particularly
interested; and skilfully hinting to my escort an intense desire to
know something with regard to how the operations of a great
conflict, like the one in progress, were directed from
headquarters, I led him up to making a proposal that he should
introduce me to the Secretary of War. In a demure sort of
way, I expressed myself as delighted at the honor of being able
to meet so great a man, and so, in a few moments more, I was
bowing, in my politest manner, to Secretary Cameron.
At The War Department.
The secretary seemed to be busy, and evidently did not
have much time to give to me, and my conversation with him
scarcely amounted to more than an exchange of the most
ordinary civilities. I made the most of my opportunities,
however, for studying his face, and forming some estimate of
his character.
I cannot say that the Secretary of War impressed me very
favorably. He was abundantly courteous in his manners, but
there was a crafty look in his eyes, and a peculiar expression
about his mouth, that I thought indicated a treacherous
disposition, and that I did not like. I concluded that Mr.
Cameron would be a hard man to deal with, unless dealing
were made well worth his while; but in spite of his evident
knowingness, and his evident confidence in his own abilities,
I left him, feeling tolerably sure that I could prove myself a fair
match for him in case our wits were ever brought into conflict.
I was much better pleased with General Wessells, the
Commissary General of Prisoners, to whom I was also
introduced, than I was with Secretary Cameron. He was very
polite, indeed, and I decided immediately that I was likely to
make more out of him than I was out of the secretary. On the
impulse of the moment, and just for the sake of feeling my
ground with him, I said, in a careless sort of way, during our
conversation, that I had a brother who was a prisoner, and
whom I would like to see, if it could be permitted,
notwithstanding that he was on the wrong side. General
Wessells very politely said that I could see him if I wished;
whereupon I thanked him, and said that I would, perhaps,
shortly avail myself of his kindness.
The reader may be sure that while at the War Department I
saw and heard all I could, and that I took particular pains to
note the movements of everybody, and to observe exactly how
things were done, so that in case I should ever be obliged to
call there again on any special errand, I should feel reasonably
at home, and be able to go about whatever work I had in hand
with as little embarrassment as possible.
A Visit To Mr. Lincoln.
From the War Department we went to the White House,
where my friend said he would introduce me to the President. I
really had some dread of this interview, although I
experienced a great curiosity to see Mr. Lincoln, and would not
have willingly missed such an opportunity as this of meeting
him. I had heard a great deal about him, of course, and not
much that was favorable, either as regards his character or his
personal appearance, and I considered him more than any one
person responsible for the war. Mr. Lincoln, however, was an
agreeable disappointment to me, as I have no doubt he was to
many others. He was certainly a very homely man, but he was
not what I should call an ugly man, for he had a pleasant,
kindly face, and a pleasantly familiar manner, that put one at
ease with him immediately.
I did not have an opportunity to exchange a great many
words with Mr. Lincoln, but my interview, brief as it was,
induced me to believe, not only that he was not a bad man,
but that he was an honest and well-meaning one, who thought
that he was only doing his duty in attempting to conquer the
South. He impressed me in a very different way from the
Secretary of War; and I left the White House, if not with a
genuine liking for him, at least with many of my prejudices
dispelled, and different feelings towards him than I had when I
entered.
My change of sentiment with regard to Mr. Lincoln, as may
be supposed, did not influence me in the least with regard to
my own opinions concerning the rights and wrongs of the
contest between the North and the South, nor did I allow it to
interfere in any way with the carrying out of my plans. I was
simply trying to do my duty, just as I suppose he was trying to
do his, as he understood it; and I was, equally with him,
determined to aid, by every means in my power, the
particular side I advocated.
After leaving the White House, we visited the Capitol, and
listened to the debates in Congress for a while; but as the
subjects which the senators and representatives happened to
be discussing at the moment were of no particular interest to
me, I had more pleasure in looking about the really noble
building than I had in hearing them talk.
Our next visit was made to the Post Office, where my
friend had some business to transact. Here I succeeded in
finding out a number of things I wanted to know, and obtained
some really important information, simply by listening to the
conversation I heard going on around me, which is a
demonstration of the necessity for people who do not want
their secrets discovered by the very ones whom it is desirable
should not discover them, not to do too much loud talking
before total strangers. I was really annoyed at some of the
conversation I heard between government officials while at the
Post Office, and wondered how the Federal authorities ever
expected to prevent the Confederates from finding out their
plans if this kind of thing was going on all the time.
My tour around Washington, and especially my visit to the
War and Post Office Departments, convinced me, not only that
Washington would be a first-rate place for me to operate in, if I
could obtain a definite attachment to the detective corps, but
that I had the abilities to become a good detective, and would,
in a very short time, be able to put the Confederate authorities
in possession of information of the first value with regard to the
present and prospective movements of the enemy.
Having fulfilled my errand, and accomplished all that I had
expected when starting out on this trip, I left Washington as
suddenly as I had entered it, giving my friend to understand that
I was going to New York. I had as little trouble in getting back
to Leesburg as I had in getting away from it, and put in an
appearance at the house of the old colored woman, who had
my uniform hid away for me, within thirteen days from the
time I left it.
In Uniform Again.
Attiring myself once more in the garb of a Confederate
officer, I returned the old woman her calico dress, shawl,
sun-bonnet, and shoes, and in response to her eager inquiries,
told her a good deal of nonsense about the Yankees being on
their way to free the colored people, and made her believe that
they would soon be along. Another suit of female clothing I
took up to the hotel with me, and told my boy Bob, who
seemed to be very curious about them, that I had bought them
for my girl. Bob seemed to be delighted to see me again, as he
had been apprehensive, from my long absence, that something
had happened, and that I might never return. He was most
anxious to know where I had been; but I put a short stop to his
questionings on that topic, by giving him orders to have
everything ready for an early start on a long journey in the
morning. The next day we were en
route for Columbus,
Tennessee, where I expected to find General Polk, under
whom I was now desirous of serving.
Like hundreds of others, I had gone to Virginia with the
opening of summer, inspired by high hopes and great
expectations. These hopes and expectations were far from
being realized, although I had succeeded in gratifying some of
the most ardent desires that had animated me in setting out, for
I had gone through with a number of perilous adventures, such
as would have certainly satisfied the ambition of most women.
Notwithstanding, however, that the Confederates had won the
first great victory, it became apparent, at an early day, that a
single battle was not going to finish the war, and that if the
South was to achieve its independence, it must go through a
long and bloody conflict. My visit to Washington more than
confirmed the opinion I had formed, that the Federals were in
command of enormous resources in comparison with ours, and
that they were settling down to a deadly
determination bring all their resources to bear for the purpose of
fighting the thing out to the bitter end. When I took the back
track, therefore, nearly six months from the time of starting out,
and when the chill winds of winter were beginning to make
their severity felt by the poor soldiers, I was prepared for a long
and desperate war, which would be a very different thing from
the holiday affair which my Arkansas recruits, in common with
many others, had expected. I was as resolute as ever in my
determination to see the thing out, however, and I experienced
even a certain amount of pleasure in the certainty that a
prolonged struggle would afford me abundant opportunities for
exciting and perilous adventures. There was not a man in the
Confederacy who was more willing to fight to the last than I
was, or who was willing to venture into greater peril for the
sake of the cause; and, perhaps, if all the men had been as
eager to find the last ditch as myself, before giving up, the war
might have had a different termination.
This is something, however, about which it is scarcely worth
while to speculate now. It is enough to say, that I left Virginia
in a different mood from that in which I had entered it.
Experience had opened my eyes to a good many things I did
not clearly understand before, but although in some particulars I
was disappointed, I was certainly not discouraged; and my head
was as full of ideas, and of much better arranged, and more
practical plans, than it was when I resolved to become a
soldier. I now knew tolerably well what I could do, and the
particular kind of work I could do best, and I was as
enthusiastic as ever, although, perhaps, in a more sober fashion,
to give the cause the benefit of my best exertions.
CHAPTER XII.
ACTING AS MILITARY CONDUCTOR.
At Memphis again. — Ending my first Campaign. — My
Friend the
Captain and I exchange Notes. — I reach Columbus and report to General
Leonidas Polk. — Assigned to Duty as Military
Conductor. — Unavailing Blandishments of the Women. — A mean
Piece of Malice. — General Lucius M. Polk tries to play a trick on
me. — The Path of Duty. — The General put under Arrest. — An
Explanation concerning a
one-sided Joke. — I become dissatisfied, and tender my
Resignation. — A Request to return to Virginia and enter the Secret
Service. — Acceptance of my Resignation. — The Lull before the Storm.
FEW
days of hard travel, and I was back at my starting-point,
Memphis, having made the circuit of the entire Confederacy east of
the Mississippi. I was wiser by a good deal of valuable practical
knowledge than I was when I set out on my Arkansas recruiting
expedition, and I had passed through scenes that made it seem
years, instead of a few short months, since I had made my first
important attempt at practicing essentially characteristic
masculine manners with the damsel in yellow calico down
there at Hurlburt Station. The mere school-girl romance had
been pretty well knocked out of me by the rough experiences
of actual warfare. I thought very little just then about Joan of
Arc, or indeed, about any of the dead and gone heroes and
heroines; but my mind was considerably occupied with my own
fortunes, and with those of the cause to which I had pledged myself.
My experiences — I do not allude to the mere hardships
of a soldier's life — had not all been of the most pleasurable
kind. I had learned much concerning some of the very weak
points of human nature; that all men are not heroes who wish
to be considered as such; that self-seeking was more common
than patriotism; that mere courage sufficient to face the
enemy in battle is not a very rare quality, and is frequently
associated with meanness of spirit; that it is easier to meet the
enemy
bravely in battle, than it is to exercise one's brains so as to meet
him most effectively; that great names are not always worthily borne
by great men, and that a spirit of petty jealousy is
even more prevalent in a camp than it is in a girl's boarding-school.
These and a good many other things worth knowing, even if the knowledge
was not of the most agreeable kind, I had picked up, as well as much
information of a different sort, that qualified me to make a second
start as something better than an apprentice in the art of war.
Notwithstanding many unpleasant things connected with this,
my first campaign, however, I had certainly enjoyed myself
immensely, after a certain fashion; for, to have taken part in
two such battles as that at Bull Run and that at Ball's Bluff,
and to have satisfactorily attempted a trip to Washington for
the sake of finding out what they were doing in the Federal
capital, were experiences that more than counterbalanced
some which I could not reflect upon with equal complacency.
If I returned to Memphis a disappointed woman in certain
particulars, I also returned a hopeful one, for I knew better
now how to go about the work I had in hand; and as it was
evident that some of the hardest fighting of the war was to be
done in this region, I confidently expected to have abundant
opportunity to distinguish myself, both as a soldier and as a
scout, and had scarcely a doubt of being employed in such
services as I was best qualified to perform.
Ready To Make Another Start.
Behold me, then, back in Memphis, ready to commence a
second campaign, inspired by a different kind of enthusiasm
from that which moved me when I shocked my husband and
the friend whom I persuaded to assist me in my enterprise, by
my determination to be a soldier, but even more firmly resolved
to do my full share of the fighting, and to give the Confederate
cause the benefit of all my energy, wit, and courage.
The friend of whom I have spoken I still found in Memphis.
He was now captain in the Confederate service, and on my
meeting with him he seemed both rejoiced and surprised to see
me again. We did not have much of an opportunity to talk
matters over, as I was anxious to get to Columbus as soon as
possible, but I contrived to find time to relate briefly some of
my adventures, and he appeared to be intensely interested
in my recital. It astonished him somewhat to find that what I
had seen of warfare had not disgusted me with it, and that I
was bent upon being a soldier so long as there was any
fighting to do; but this time, however, he made no
attempt to dissuade me from my purpose, being
perfectly well convinced of my ability to take care of
myself. Wishing each other good luck, we parted again, and I
took the first boat for Columbus, where I expected to find
General Leonidas Polk.
On landing at Columbus, I gave my equipage and the two
horses I had bought at Memphis, in charge of Bob, with
directions to keep a sharp eye on them, and went to Barnes'
Hotel, to see if I could come across anybody I knew, and to
make the inquiries necessary for my next movement.
Columbus was one of the liveliest places I had ever visited,
or at least it seemed so that evening. There was an immense
amount of bustle and confusion, and everything seemed to
indicate that the campaign in this region was being pushed with
considerable energy; although, as I had found out before, noise
and activity in and about headquarters do not always mean
remarkable energy in the field; for an obstinate enemy, bent on
doing some hard fighting, takes a good deal of the nonsense out
of mere cabinet generalship. Soon after supper I got my tent
up, and the next morning I went in search of the general for the
purpose of presenting my letter.
I Report For Duty To General Polk.
General Polk, who had been a bishop before the war broke
out, received me cordially enough, although he seemed to be
too busy to do much talking, and after reading my letter,
dismissed me with the rather indefinite observation that he
would see what he could do for me. This might mean anything
or nothing; but as I had no other resource than to wait and see
what conclusion he would come to with regard to me, I made
my bow and retired, determined to be as patient as my
impatient disposition would let me.
While waiting for the general to assign me to duty I visited
the different camps, made a number of acquaintances, and
picked up what information I could about the military situation
in the West. Everybody was expecting hard fighting, and a
desperate struggle with the Federals for the possession of the
Mississippi, as it seemed to be well understood that the enemy
were making great preparations for some heavy work
on this river. It was thought, however, the defences were
sufficiently strong to resist any attacks, and the idea that an
attempt would ere a great while be made against New Orleans by way
of the Gulf of Mexico, was scarcely entertained seriously by any
one. I thought differently; but then I had special reasons for my
own opinions, which I did not consider it necessary to communicate
to all of my new-made friends, deeming it prudent to keep quiet
about my visit to Washington, although ready enough to tell all I knew
concerning the military situation in Virginia in exchange for
what I learned from them about the condition of things in the West.
The third day after my arrival at Columbus, General Polk
sent for me, and told me that he had assigned me to the
detective corps. I was considerably elated at this, as I supposed
that he intended to employ me in running through the lines as a
spy. I had taken a great fancy to this kind of service, and felt
myself especially well qualified for it. I wanted something to do
that would keep me constantly employed, and especially that
would require me to give my whole mind to whatever task I
had in hand. There was an element of positive peril in scout
duty that had a wonderful fascination for me, and that I felt
would give me a keen enjoyment, such as lounging around a
camp, with only the disagreeable routine of campaigning,
broken by an occasional battle, could never afford.
I Am Made A Military Conductor.
I was not particularly well pleased, therefore, when I found
that I was to run on the cars as military conductor. This,
however, was active duty of a specific kind, and I thought that
perhaps it might lead to something better, or might even offer
me opportunities for distinguishing myself that I did not suspect.
I took it, therefore, without complaining, resolved to do my
best while on duty, and to resign the position, and go elsewhere
for employment, so soon as I found the service getting too
uncongenial. I accordingly went, under orders from General
Polk, to Camp Beauregard, where I was directed to relieve
Captain Jannett, on the Nashville road.
It was while acting in the capacity of military conductor on
this road that some of the most amusing incidents of my career
occurred, or, at least, incidents that were amusing enough to
me at the time, although I presume that they would
seem stupid enough on repetition; for many of the events of
our lives that cause the heartiest laughter, depend so much on
the surroundings and accessories, that it is difficult to raise
even a smile at them when narrated. Nearly every day,
however, little controversies would occur between myself and
ladies who tried to beguile me with their smiles, little suspecting
how well fortified I was against their fascinating
arts; and I often laughed heartily to myself at noting the nice
feminine wiles that were brought to bear to beguile me from
the strict line of my duty. I am afraid that, had I been a man,
some of these wiles would have been successful; but as, in
spite of my garments, I was compelled to view the arts of my
feminine passengers, and would-be passengers, from a feminine
standpoint, I am scarcely able to doubt that the military
conductorship on this particular line was run on more rigidly virtuous
principles, during my term of service, than before or afterwards.
My duty was to run on the trains and examine passes,
furloughs, and leaves of absence; and as I could place any
one under arrest who was not travelling with the right kind of
papers, or who was unprovided with papers of any kind, I was
a personage of considerable importance, not only to the
officers and soldiers who were going back and forth, but to the
ladies, who courted me with remarkable assiduity, with a view
of inducing me to grant them favors. The women folk
tormented me a good deal more than the men did, for the
average masculine had a wholesome dread of the rigors of
military discipline, and was consequently manageable, while my
own sex relied on accomplishing, by means of their
fascinations, what was impossible to the men. They would
make all kinds of excuses, and tell all kinds of improbable
stories, to induce me to pass them; but as I put a stop to all that
kind of nonsense at the very start, and made up my mind to do
business on strictly military principles, I soon became anything
but popular. Occasionally some of my would-be charmers,
finding it impossible to make any impression on me, would
abuse me roundly for refusing to grant their request. This, of
course, did not have any other effect than to afford me much
amusement; but it enabled me to understand why my
predecessor seemed so well pleased at being relieved, although
I have doubts as to whether he was as strict in enforcing the
regulations as myself. Indeed, I have excellent reasons for
believing that he was not at all strict.
While the women, as a rule, gave me the most trouble, there
were a good many hard customers among the men, with whom
it was not easy to have pleasant dealings. Merely obstreperous
fellows, however, I could generally manage by letting them see
that I was dead in earnest; but there were plenty of officers
who were willing to violate orders, and then put the blame, in
case there should be any trouble, on my shoulders, and who
took it as a personal grievance that I would not let them travel
without the proper papers. One malicious scoundrel, because I
would not permit him to travel without a pass, trumped up a
most scandalous false charge against me, to General Lucius M.
Polk, who undertook to look into the matter himself.
Following The Path Of Duty.
I did not know or suspect of anything being wrong; and had I
been other than resolutely bent upon doing my whole duty, at all
hazards, I should probably have fallen into the trap so
cunningly laid for me on this occasion. I had seen enough of
military life, however, to know that the only safe course for a
soldier is to obey orders, no matter who suffers; and, as my
orders were to pass no one unprovided with the right kind of
papers, I was resolved to carry them out to the letter, under all
circumstances, without regard to consequences.
General Polk, bent upon knowing how I was making out as
military conductor, and whether I was entirely trustworthy, — it
having been reported to him, by the scamp referred to, that I
was not, — stepped aboard the train with a ten days' leave of
absence in his pocket. He probably thought that I was as good
as detected in neglecting my duty, but he found out his mistake
before he got through; and if he had not taken the precaution to
provide himself with the proper official documents before
starting, the ending of the adventure would have been anything
but a merry one for him, for I should certainly have arrested
him.
A Game Of Bluff.
On entering the car, I sang out, as usual, "Show your
passes, gentlemen."
The general turned his head, and commenced looking out of
the window rather intently, as travellers not provided with
passes were very much in the habit of doing. When I reached
him, in going through the car, I gently tapped his shoulder, and
said, "Have you a pass?"
"No," said he. "Won't you let me go through without one?"
"No sir," I replied; "I cannot pass any one. My orders are
very strict, especially with regard to officers and soldiers."
"Well," said he, "don't you think you could go back on your
orders for once? Did you never favor a friend in this line?"
"Sir," I answered, rather severely, "I know no friends in
connection with my duty, or general orders."
"Well, what are you going to do in my case; for I haven't
got any pass," said the general.
I replied, "I will send you back to headquarters, under
guard."
"But," said he, "do you know, sir, that I am General
Polk?" putting on all the magnificent style he could command
as he spoke.
I was considerably nettled, both by his conduct in
endeavoring to persuade me to pass him in violation of orders
and by his manner, and so said, rather sharply, "I don't care,
sir, who you are; you can't travel on this line without a pass,
even if you are Jeff Davis himself."
I was, by this time, rather angry, and determined to have no
further controversy with him; so I called a soldier to take
charge of him, while I finished going through the train.
The conductor, who had seen the whole performance,
and who was afraid that I was getting myself into serious
trouble, strongly advised me to release the general, and to pass
him through as he desired. I told him, however, that I
understood my duty perfectly, and that I intended to perform it
to the letter, in this as in every other instance; and that if
General Polk didn't know better than to undertake to travel
without his papers, he would have to bear the consequences.
When we were nearing the station, General Polk beckoned
to me, and said, "I have a leave of absence."
I held out my hand, and he produced it from his pocket,
laughing as he did so at what he evidently considered a good
joke on the military conductor. I looked at it, and returned it,
simply saying, "That is all right, sir." The general held out his
hand to me with a very cordial smile, and was evidently
desirous of doing away with any ill feeling that the incident
might have occasioned on my side. I was very badly
vexed, however, that he should have attempted to play such a
trick upon me, and to have doubted my honor; and I did not
receive his greeting with any great amount of cordiality, being
resolved, in my own mind, to be even with him some day.
On his return, General Polk explained the whole affair, and
apologized very handsomely for having made such a test of my
fidelity. I told him very plainly, however, that I did not like that
sort of thing, and that I proposed to tender my resignation
shortly, as I preferred service in the field to duty like this,
where I had to be acting the part of a spy on the people all the
time, while being myself subjected to the surveillance of my
superiors in a manner that was far from agreeable. He
attempted to discourage me from indulging in the idea of
resigning; but although I did not care to argue the matter with
him, my mind was fully made up to try my luck in some other
line of duty.
I Am Wanted In Virginia.
I was the more anxious to get away, as I had received an
urgent letter from my friend, Captain Shankey, asking me to
return to Virginia and enter the secret service. This would
have suited me exactly, had I been certain of getting the kind
of employment I wanted by complying with Captain Shankey's
request. But having just come from Virginia, where I had been
for a number of months waiting in vain for a fair chance to
make myself useful in such a manner that I could take a
genuine pride and interest in my work, I was disposed to
wait a while and see something of military operations in the
West before returning. This call to go East was, however, a
good pretext for throwing up a position that was becoming
unpleasant, and that promised to be abundantly annoying,
without offering any corresponding advantages. It was an
additional string to my bow, and I could, at least, consider it
while making another effort to tempt Fortune, before putting in
an appearance on my old campaign ground again.
It was really, however, my intention to go back to Virginia,
so soon as I could get relieved from the duty I was engaged in,
and had that object in my mind when I sent in my resignation,
although circumstances occurred that induced me to change
my plans. My resignation was accepted without much hesitation at
headquarters, and once more, after three weeks,
service as a military conductor, I was free to follow my own
inclinations.
These three weeks were very fruitful in experiences, and I
learned a good many things which I do not particularly care to
set down in black and white, but which were worth knowing.
Between what I saw and heard, both in the East and the
West, I was beginning to understand why things did not move
briskly, and why, in spite of successes in the field, the
Confederate cause, instead of making headway, was losing
ground; and I was, in a measure, prepared for the disasters
which shortly after began to follow thick and fast. But, before
disasters did come, there were some bright days, which, in my
memory, seem brighter than, perhaps, they really were, from
the contrast between them and the dismal times by which they
were succeeded. These I enjoyed to the utmost, and when the
darkness of defeat and disaster did begin to settle down upon
the doomed Confederacy, I, for one, bore up with undaunted
spirit to the very last hour, and was willing to fight the thing out
even when every hope of success had vanished. But these are
matters that do not properly come up for discussion in this
place; and what we are now concerned with are the pleasant
hours of genuine fun and frolic — the last I saw for many a
day — that preceded the bursting of the storm-cloud which
was beginning to overshadow the fortunes of the Confederacy.
CHAPTER XIII.
A MERRY-MAKING.
In Search of active Employment. — On the Road to Bowling
Green,
Kentucky. — My travelling Companions. — A Halt at Paris. — A
Hog-killing and Corn-shucking Frolic. — Dancing all Night in the
School-house. — A Quilting-Party. — My particular Attentions
to a Lady. — The other Girls unhappy. — The Reward of Gallantry.
— What General Hardee had to say to me. — The Woodsonville Fight.
— On the back Track for Fort Donelson.
T
would, perhaps, have been better for me, in many
respects, had I gone back to Virginia; for the
probabilities were that I would, very shortly, if not
immediately, have obtained the gratification of my
desire for active employment in the secret service
corps, and I would, consequently, not only have put in
my time to much better advantage than I did, both for
myself and for the Confederacy, but I would have been spared
a number of particularly unpleasant occurrences which were fruitful
of nothing but abundance of disgust on my part. If
everything happened to us, however, just as we desired
in this world, not only would we not properly appreciate
heaven, when we get there, — if we ever do, — but
adventure would lose much of its zest. So, the best
way, after all, is, perhaps, to take things about as they
come, and keeping a sharp lookout for the main chances, do what
we can with them to advance the ends we have in view.
My campaign in the West, before I trod Virginia ground
again, was certainly adventuresome enough to satisfy all my
cravings, were adventure alone what I wanted. While,
however, I plunged into adventures for the love of the thing,
and cared not what perils presented themselves when I had an
object to attain, I was neither reckless nor foolhardy, and
wanted to have something definite in view beyond the
excitement of the hour.
It was because I thought that there would be a chance for
me, ere a great while, in Kentucky, to demonstrate my value
either as a soldier or as a spy, — for some heavy fighting was
undoubtedly about to begin, — that I determined to defer going
East for the present, thinking that Fortune would favor me
where I was. So I remained, and began to look about for a
good place to commence operations in again. As there was
evidently nothing to be had at Columbus that I wanted, I decided
to try what could be done at the other end of the Confederate
line of operations, — at Bowling Green.
Starting For Bowling Green.
For Bowling Green I accordingly started, my travelling
companions being Colonel Bacon and Captain Billingsley. They
were both genial, pleasant gentlemen, — gentlemen in every
sense of the word, — and I enjoyed their society greatly during
the journey.
Soldiers are generally fond of taking a hand in anything in the
shape of a frolic that is going on, more especially as a
uniform-coat is tolerably sure to be a passport to the
favor of the ladies; consequently, when on reaching the little
town of Paris, we found that there was some sport in progress
in the shape of a hog-killing and corn-shucking festival, we
concluded that the best thing we could do would be to stop and
have a bit of fun. Well, it was genuine fun, of a downright
hearty kind, and all three of us enjoyed ourselves
immensely, although, I am afraid that the captain and the
colonel appreciated the thing more than I did; for they were
both great ladies' men, and this was such a chance as did not
present itself every day for them to exert their powers of
fascination upon the fair sex. I considered that I had a manly
reputation to sustain, too, and I consequently resolved not
to be beaten by them in the matter of gallant attentions to
the girls of Paris. My previous experience in winning the
regards of my sex, induced me to believe that I could, with
comparative ease, become the hero of the occasion, in spite of
their superiority of official rank and superior dignity of manly
carriage. This was the first occasion since my assumption of
male attire that I had been offered a fair chance to attempt a
bit of rivalry of this kind, and I thought that it would be a
first-rate notion to improve the occasion. I determined, therefore,
on an active campaign for the smiles of the fair one with
the captain and the colonel.
A Favorite With The Ladies.
The welcome which extended to us was all that could be
desired in the way of cordiality, the girls, especially, evidently
being delighted to have three dashing officers take part with
them in the frolic. It was not a great while, therefore, before
each of us had a young lady in charge, and were doing our
best to be as agreeable as possible. I had, perhaps, rather the
advantage of the colonel and the captain at the start, for I
figured as one of those nice little fellows who, for some
unaccountable reason, seem to be admired by many women in
a greater degree than are more manly-looking men; and as I
exerted myself to be as fascinating as possible, my two
companions were speedily thrown in the shade, and I found
myself the special object of the adoration of the Parisian
damsels, very much to my amusement.
The colonel and the captain, however, had the best of me in
the long run, for, as I was only playing a part, I was not able to
keep up the competition with as much animation as they did;
and although the first successes were mine, I was tired out,
and ready to retire from the field some time before they showed
any disposition to give up. I think that both of my friends
perceived that I was trying to outshine them with the Paris
girls; but as they did not understand the situation as I did, they
were, of course, unable to see exactly where the laugh came in.
Could they have but known who I really was, they would,
undoubtedly, have been intensely amused, and would have
enjoyed the whole performance immensely.
A Village Ball.
The serious business of hog-killing and corn-shucking was
supplemented by a feast, at which the viands were chiefly
winter apples and cider, and the frolic concluded with a dance
in the school-house, which lasted until morning. My two friends
and myself were in great demand as partners, and we nearly
danced the breath out of our bodies before the affair wound
up; which it finally did about daybreak, very much to my
satisfaction, for I was nearly used up, having found waltzing all
night much harder and more exhausting work than campaigning.
The affair, however, was a right merry one, and I enjoyed
myself immensely.
When day began to dawn, we took our girls home, and then
sought our beds. It was not long before I was sound asleep,
and so worn out with my exertions of the night, that I did not
wake up until nearly supper-time.
The next evening we went to a quilting-party, I acting as
escort to an old maid who had been compelled to play the part
of a wall-flower nearly all the night before, and to whom I
determined to pay particular attention, just for the sake of a
joke, and to annoy the younger girls, who showed a marked
disposition to monopolize all the masculine attentions at her
expense. It was very funny to note the dismay which this
choice of mine caused in the breasts of those who thought they
had a better right to my courtesies. I had the satisfaction of
seeing, however, that my politeness was keenly appreciated by
the recipient of it, and I redoubled my exertions to make myself
agreeable when I noticed the chagrin my conduct was exciting
among the rivals of my lady.
As for the lady herself, she had evidently not received so
much marked attention from anybody in masculine garb for a
long time, and she plumed herself immensely on having made a
conquest of the dashing little lieutenant, and was, doubtless,
inspired by a higher appreciation of her own powers of
fascination than she had ever been before. Repeated attempts
were made to win me away from her side, but all in vain; the
sport was too entertaining for me to give it up, and I
steadfastly resisted all the allurements of the rival beauties,
with not a little enjoyment of their discomfiture.
I Take The Needle In Hand.
The quilting-party was a very merry and very noisy one,
although the full was not of quite so uproarious a character as
that of the previous night. I offered to take a hand at the work
that was going on, making a great boast of my skill with the
needle. The probabilities are that I could have manipulated that
little feminine instrument quite as deftly as most of those
present, but did not think it expedient to show myself too handy
with it. Taking my place at the frame, therefore, I set about
making a figure with something of masculine awkwardness, and
succeeded in putting in quite as shocking a bit of work as most
men would have done under the circumstances.
While I was doing this, the girls all looked on with great
eagerness, praising my work, and endeavoring to flatter me
into the belief that I was doing magnificently. When I had
completed the figure, I pretended that I thought it much too
bad to remain, and offered to pick it out. At this, there was a
chorus of indignant remonstrance from all the feminines
present, and I was, consequently, compelled to let it stand, the
young ladies very prettily professing to be lost in admiration,
and my old maid, in particular, smiling on my humble effort
with touching sweetness.
There was now an increased effort to win me from my
first love; but with a firmness that would have done me infinite
credit, had my coat and trowsers rightly represented my sex, I
persisted in my preference, leaving it for the colonel and the
captain to sustain the credit of the army for gallantry with
the other feminine members of the party.
Tokens Of Esteem.
My rather excessive politeness to the lady in question was
not without its ample reward; for when the time for leaving
Paris came, she gave me a substantial token of her esteem and
of her keen appreciation of my attentions, by putting me up a
lunch, consisting of a fried chicken, biscuits, apples, and two
bottles of cider, which, if she is still living, and should have the
pleasure of reading this narrative, she will learn were keenly
enjoyed by my two friends and myself as we journeyed
towards Bowling Green.
So ended the episode of the Paris frolic. It was good fun
while it lasted, and it becomes a particularly bright spot in my
memory in contrast with the dismal and harrowing scenes by
which it was so soon to be succeeded. The Paris girls
furnished the colonel, the captain, and myself topics of
conversation during a good part of the balance of our journey,
and my companions had considerable fun at my expense, on account
of my peculiar manner of conducting myself towards the
ladies of that village. I took their raillery in good part, of course,
smiling to myself at certain amusing incidents, the full
significance of which it was impossible for them to understand.
Soon, however, all three of us had enough of other things to
think of to induce us to dismiss Paris, and the delights of hog-killing,
corn-shucking, and quilting-frolics from our minds, and to bend our
thoughts to the consideration of matters of more serious interest.
On arrival at General Hardee's headquarters, I went to him,
and showing him my commission, stated that I wanted to go
into active service as a scout. He said that he thought there
would soon be a chance for me; which was so nearly like the
answers I had received from a number of other commanders,
that I did not feel especially encouraged by it. It really meant
about as much as similar remarks made by others, for nothing
came of it, and I was compelled to drift about, looking out
myself for something to do to kill time while waiting in hope that
the current of events would shape themselves in a manner
favorable to my idea.
At this period of the war I could have been employed to very
great advantage as a spy, to go to and fro through the lines;
and there is no doubt that I could, with comparative ease, have
obtained information of the first value to the Confederate
commanders. The Federals, as we all knew, were making
immense preparations for an important forward movement;
and had I been employed as I wanted to be, I could, most
likely, have succeeded in saving the Confederates from waiting
for defeat to teach them what they ought to have known while
making their preparations to meet the enemy.
Perhaps if General Hardee, and others, had known exactly
who and what I was, and what were my particular talents in
the line of duty I desired to follow, they would have shown a
greater disposition to afford me opportunities to signalize
myself. They did see, however, that I was ready, willing, and,
apparently, able to work; and I scarcely think that they were
blameless in not, at least, giving me a fair trial.
The Fight At Woodsonville.
I was bent, however, notwithstanding the disappointment
under which I labored, on showing my devotion to the cause of
Southern independence; and, in accordance with my general
plan of not letting slip an opportunity of being on hand when
there was any real, serious work to be done, I took part in the
fight at Woodsonville, on Green River, and faced the enemy as
valiantly as anybody. In this fight, Colonel Terry, a brave
Texan officer, whom I greatly admired, was among the slain.
The affair at Woodsonville was something of a diversion
from the monotony of camp life, but it did not satisfy my
ambition or my intense desire for active service; and coming
to the conclusion that lounging about Bowling Green and vicinity
was much too slim a business for me, I decided to shift my
quarters to where there was a somewhat better prospect of
hard fighting to be done. It was by this time evident that the
Federals intended making a determined attempt to capture
Forts Henry and Donelson, on the Tennessee and Cumberland
Rivers, and as I felt confident that our people would make a
brave and desperate resistance, I resolved to go and take a
hand in the approaching battle, in the hope that something to
my advantage would result from it. If a desire to witness some
hard fighting was my chief object in this movement, it was
more than gratified, for the horrors of the siege of Donelson far
surpassed anything I had yet witnessed, and by the time it was
over, I certainly got enough of the excitement of battle to
satisfy me for some time to come. Happily for ourselves, we
cannot foresee the future, and in blissful ignorance of the
agonizing scenes which I would soon be called upon to witness,
I started for Fort Donelson with a comparatively light heart,
bent only on so demonstrating my devotion to the cause as
would compel the recognition of my superiors.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE
FALL OF FORT DONELSON.
The Spirit of Partisanship. — My Opinions with Regard to the
Invincibility of the Southern Soldiers. — Unprepared to sustain
the Humiliation of Defeat. — The Beginning of the End. — At Fort
Donelson. — The Federal Attack expected. — Preparations for the
Defence. — The Garrison confident of their Ability to hold the
Fort. — The Difference between Summer and Winter
Campaigning. — Enthusiasm supplanted by Hope and
Determination. — My Boy Bob and I
go to Work in the Trenches. — Too much of a good
Thing. — Dirt-Digging not exactly in my Line — The Federals make
their
Appearance. — The Opening of the Battle. — On picket Duty in the
Trenches at Night. — Storm of Snow and Sleet. — The bitter
Cold. — Cries and Groans of the Wounded. — My Clothing stiff with
Ice. — I find myself giving Way, but manage to endure until the
Relief
comes. — Terrible Suffering. — Singular Ideas. — A four Days'
Battle. — The Confederate Successes on the first and second
Days. — The Gunboats driven off. — Desperate Fighting on the third
Day. — A breathing Spell. — The Confederates finally driven back
into the Fort. — It is resolved to surrender. — Generals Floyd and
Pillow make their Escape. — General Buckner surrenders to General
Grant. — Terrible Scenes after the Battle is over. — The Ground
strewn for Miles with Dead and Dying. — Wounded Men crushed by the
artillery Wagons. — The Houses of the Town of Dover filled with
Wounded. — My Depression of Spirits on Account of the terrible
Scenes I had witnessed.
AM
a partisan, by instinct and by education. It is an impossibility
for me to limit or divide my affections and predilections; and in
choosing a side in a great contest like that which was waged between
the South and the North, I must do so with my whole heart and soul.
Others, abler than myself, may have done more to promote the cause of
Southern independence, and may have labored with greater efficiency; but
no man or woman in the whole Confederacy was inspired by a more
ardent devotion to the cause than myself, or had greater faith in its
ultimate success, no matter what odds it might be compelled to contend
against. I trusted to my impulses, perhaps, more than to my
reason; but every
strong partisan must do this, in a greater or less degree, and if I
miscalculated, or was ignorant of the real power of the
North, and of the resources which the Federal government
was able to command, I had plenty of companions in my
error, for there were thousands who possessed far more
perfect means of information than myself, who were quite as
eager to enter upon a war without calculating the cost or
estimating the consequences.
The fact was, however, that I did not think of calculating
with regard to the probable result of the contest. I had the most
exalted opinion of the invincibility of our Southern soldiers, and
of the skill of our generals, and I was unable to think of them
otherwise than as about to enter upon a career of victory.
Up to the time of which I am now writing, nearly
everything had contributed to the encouragement of my original
notions. In both of the great battles in which I had participated
the Confederates had been brilliantly successful; and while the
permanent results had scarcely been equal to my hopes and
expectations, my opinion with regard to Southern invincibility
had scarcely received a serious check. My nature and
temperament are such, that just as when, amid the excitement
of a battle, each combatant in the opposing army becomes for
the moment a personal enemy, so in the hour of defeat I am
compelled to feel a humiliation as keen as if it was my own
alone. Such a humiliation I was very shortly to endure; but, in
hurrying towards Fort Donelson, I little knew that I was about
to become the spectator of a defeat so crushing and disastrous
as for a time to annihilate in my bosom all hope, and which
gave a death-blow to the impetuous but untutored enthusiasm
with which I had started out.
I had tasted the sweets of victory, and had felt all the
exultation which fills the breast of the soldier after a
hard-fought battle in seeing the enemy flee before him, and
now I was called upon to taste the bitterness of defeat, and of
defeat attended with unspeakable horrors. The capture of Fort
Donelson was the beginning of the end, although I hardly so
understood it at the time; but soon it was followed by other
disasters scarcely less crushing, and the enthusiasm of
despair, rather than of hope, was the inspiration not only of
myself, but of the whole Southern people during the last
three years of the contest.
An Estimate Of The Position.
When I reached Fort Donelson, General Pillow was in command, and
preparations for meeting the enemy were being pushed forward with all
possible energy. Fort Henry, on the Tennessee River, about fifteen
miles from Fort Donelson, had been captured by the Federals, and
Donelson, every one knew, would be the next object of attack, both by
land and water. The fortifications were very strong, although, being
built for the purpose of commanding the river, they were weaker on the
land than on the water side, and the great duty of the hour was
the construction of earthworks for the protection of the
exposed side. The labor required for the execution of this task
was immense, but every one went at it with a good will, and
with a feeling of confidence in our ability to give the Federals
the repulse that the garrison of Fort Henry had failed to do,
although we were certain that they were about to assail us with
a very large force, and that they considered the capture of the
position a matter of such vital importance that they would spare
no effort to accomplish it. While, however, there was the
greatest belief in the impregnability of the position, and in the
ability of our garrison, composed of Southern soldiers of tried
courage and gallantry, to hold it, even against heavy odds, all
felt that a desperate and bloody conflict was about to begin,
and nerved themselves for the dreadful task before them.
The Teachings Of Experience.
I entered upon this conflict with far different emotions from
those which animated me when about to take part in the battle
of Bull Run. Then I was inspired by all the enthusiasm of
ignorance, and was, perhaps, animated as much by an intense
desire to see what a great battle was like, as by any other
feeling. I could not get rid of the idea that the rout of the enemy
would mean their annihilation, and the triumphant
accomplishment of all the ends for which we had taken up
arms. I might have known better than this, if I had thought; but
I did not think. I only felt, just like thousands of others. The
battle of Bull Run, too, was fought in the middle of summer, in
beautiful, clear, July weather; and although fighting the enemy
through that long, sultry day, with the blazing sun overhead,
was no holiday task,
and it taxed the energies of officers and men to the utmost to
achieve the defeat of the enemy, it was a very different thing
from defending a series of earthworks from a combined attack,
by land and water, in the dead of winter.
Premonitions Of Defeat.
I had seen much of war and its horrors since the battle of
Bull Run, and better comprehended now what serious work it
was, and what enormous labor would have to be performed, if
the hopes and expectations of the summer were to be realized.
In fact, I appreciated the situation from the standpoint of a
veteran, rather than from that of the raw recruit. Of
enthusiasm, or, at least, such enthusiasm as that by which I
was originally inspired, I had little or nothing; but I had hope
and determination, and was as much bent upon doing my very
best as I was the day I was first under fire. There was
something most depressing, however, in the idea of figuring in a
desperate conflict in midwinter. The whole proceeding seemed
unseasonable, and this peculiar feeling, combined with a
singular sense of discomfort and constraint at being shut in
fortifications from which there was next to no escape, except
by driving off the enemy, or surrendering to him, had a
powerful effect in dampening my ardor.
At the first intimation of these unpleasant feelings coming
over me, however, I shook them off with all the resolution I
could command, and determined to show myself in every way
worthy of the garments I wore, by doing a full man's work, in
preparing for the expected attack. There was a great deal that
had to be done, and done quickly, in the way of completing the
intrenchments, and I made up my mind to lend a hand, as I felt
sure that volunteers would be welcome when hard labor like
this was to be performed, even if they were not regarded with
the best favor by those in authority at other times.
At Work In The Trenches.
My boy Bob and I, therefore, went into the trenches, and
commenced to shovel dirt with all possible energy and good
will. In the execution of such a task as this, Bob soon proved
himself to be a much better man than I was, and he easily
threw two shovelfuls to my one, and was apparently in
a condition to keep on indefinitely, when I, finding that I had
miscalculated my strength, was compelled to desist. There
are some things which men can do better than women, and
digging intrenchments in the frozen ground is one of them. I
was not a very great while in discovering this most important
fact, and concluding that I had better try and make myself
useful in some other manner, I repaired, with aching back and
blistered hands, to the headquarters of General Floyd, who had
just arrived with his Virginians, where I lounged about, waiting
for events so to shape themselves that I would be able to show
my fighting qualities to advantage, for nature had evidently
intended me for a warrior rather than for a dirt-digger.
Commencement Of The Siege.
The Federals made their appearance on the afternoon of
Wednesday the 12th, and they could be seen at various
points through the woods making preparations for
commencing their attack by stationing themselves in
advantageous positions for the environment of the fort on its
land side, while the gunboats were to give us the benefit of
their heavy ordnance from the river. These latter we felt
very sure of being able to manage with comparative ease, as,
indeed, we succeeded in doing; for the fort, as I have before
stated, was constructed chiefly with a view to the resistance
of an attack upon this side, and our heaviest guns were
mounted so as to command the river. The navy, therefore,
would have to do some remarkably efficient service if it
expected to make any marked impression on us, and the chief
anxiety of our officers and men was on account of the
comparative weakness of the land defences. But even these,
such was the confidence all had in the proverbial Southern
valor, it was believed we would be able to hold successfully.
The battle opened on Thursday, February 13, 1862, and, as if
to increase the discomforts and sufferings of the combatants,
the weather, which had been quite moderate and pleasant,
suddenly became intensely cold. On Thursday night, about
eight o'clock, a tremendous storm of snow and sleet came on,
to the full fury of which I was exposed; for a young officer,
who wanted to take French leave for the night, had taken
advantage of my eagerness for active service, and made an
arrangement for me to go on picket duty for him in
the trenches. I was less fitted to stand this kind of exposure
than many of my comrades, for, independently of my sex, I
was born and brought up in a semi-tropical climate, and
although inured to hardships during the months I had been
figuring as a soldier, I was but indifferently qualified to endure
the sufferings of this terrible night.
On Picket Duty At Night.
When entering upon a soldier's career, however, I was
animated by a stern resolve not to shirk any duty I
might be called on to undertake, no matter how arduous or
uncongenial it might be; and although I was, on this occasion,
really intruding myself where I did not belong, my pride would
not have permitted me to back down, even had I fully
appreciated, before starting for the trenches, what I would
have to go through with before I could return to shelter again.
As for the person whose duty I had undertaken to perform, he
undoubtedly thought himself particularly lucky in getting rid of
such an ugly job, and I fancy that he considered me a fool for
the eagerness I displayed to get into a scrape for his benefit. I
hope he managed to have a good time during the long hours of
that dreadful night, for in spite of what I suffered I bore him no
hard feelings.
If repentance for my rashness in resolving to play a soldier's
part in the war was ever to overcome me, however, now was
the time; and I confess that, as the sleet stung my face, and the
biting winds cut me to the bones, I wished myself well out
of it, and longed for the siege to be over in some shape, even if
relief came only through defeat. The idea of defeat, however,
was too intolerable to be thought of, and I banished it from my
mind whenever it occurred to me, and argued with myself that
I was no better than the thousands of brave men around, who
were suffering from these wintry blasts as much as I.
A Night Of Horror.
The agonized cries of the wounded, and their piteous calls
for water, really affected me more than my own discomfort;
and had it not been for the heart-rending sounds that greeted
my ear every moment, I could, perhaps, have succeeded
better than I did in bearing up under the horrors of the night
with some degree of equanimity. Every now and then a shriek
would be uttered that would strike terror to my soul, and make
my blood run cold, as the fiercest fighting I had ever seen had
not been able to do. I could face the cannon better than I
could this bitter weather, and I could suffer myself better than
I could bear to hear the cries and groans of these wounded
men, lying out on the frozen ground, exposed to the beatings of
this pitiless storm. Several times I felt as if I could stand it no
longer, and was tempted to give the whole thing up, and lie
down upon the ground and die; but, although my clothing was
perfectly stiff with ice, and I ached in every limb from the cold,
I succeeded in rallying myself whenever I found these fits of
despondency coming over me, and stood my ground to the last.
I understood, from this brief but sufficient experience,
what must have been the sufferings of the army of
Napoleon, on the retreat from Moscow; and the story of
that retreat, which had hitherto seemed to me more like a
romance than a narrative of actual occurrences, was now
presented to my mind as a terrible reality. I even tried to find
some consolation in thinking that, after all, it was only for a few
hours that I would be called upon to endure, while the soldiers
in that most disastrous retreat were for weeks exposed to all
the severities of an almost Arctic winter, in their long march
over desert plains, but was forced to the conclusion that
reflecting on the woes of others is but an indifferent
alleviation of our own.
Fantastic Ideas.
In such a situation as the one I am describing, the most
singular ideas run through one's mind. The minutes are
lengthened out into hours, and the hours into days, until the
reckoning of time is lost; and as the past seems to fade away
into a remoteness that makes the painlessness of yesterday
appear like the fragment of a happy dream, so the future, when
it will all be over, and the commonplace routine of uneventful
every-day life will commence again, is as far off as a child's
imagination pictures heaven to be. We actually catch ourselves
wondering whether it has always been so, and whether it will
always be so until we die, and when we die, whether
eternity will have anything better to offer. Little incidents in our
past lives, of no possible moment, and which had perhaps never
been thought of from the date of their occurrence, present
themselves suddenly, with astonishing
vividness, to the memory. The mental and the physical beings
seem to be engaged in a contest for the mastery, and as the
numbness of the half-frozen limbs increases, the brain shapes
more and more fantastic ideas, and if the terrible contest is too
long protracted, and the strain upon the endurance is not
removed, fantasy develops into madness, and madness
swiftly results in death.
More than once I felt myself giving way; more than once I
detected my mind wandering off strangely from the
surroundings of the moment; but, by a resolute effort of will,
and by an indomitable determination not to succumb, I
succeeded in sustaining myself until my relief came, and I
was able to seek shelter and the repose I so sorely needed.
The Progress Of The Battle.
The battle lasted four days and nights, and, although the
Confederates fought with desperate valor, they were at length
compelled to yield, and the humiliation of defeat was added to
the unspeakable sufferings which the conduct of a fierce and
prolonged contest like this, in the middle of a winter of
unparalleled severity, entailed upon them. Fortune, which had
favored the side of the Confederacy in the battles in which I
had heretofore been engaged, was against us now, however,
and in spite of the fierce resistance which the garrison made to
the Federal attacks, the result was, that nothing was left for us
to do but surrender.
The results of the first day's fighting were favorable to us,
the Federals being repulsed at all points, and we all felt
tolerably sure that we would be able either to drive them off,
or to cut our way through their lines.
The Gunboats Brought Into Action.
On Friday, the forces on the land side, evidently
discouraged by their ill luck of the day before, did not attempt
any very serious demonstrations. It was now the turn of
the gunboats to try what they could do towards driving us out
of the fort. The navy, however, did not have any better success
than the army. In the afternoon the boats advanced up the
river, and commenced to shell our works, but they inflicted on
us no particular damage, while our fire told on them with
terrible effect. The contest between the batteries
and the gunboats continued for about an hour and a half, at
the end of which time we had the satisfaction of seeing them
drift down the river, evidently very badly cut up. So the end of
the second day's battle was in favor of the Confederates.
In the mean time, however, the besieging army was
receiving large re-enforcements, and was apparently preparing
to renew the attack on the land side with increased vigor.
The Confederate Sortie.
With characteristic energy, the Confederate commanders resolved
not to wait to be attacked, but to sally from the fort, and strike
the enemy a deadly blow. The sortie was gallantly made, and our
soldiers fell upon their antagonists with a fury that made them
recoil. The contest was conducted with terrible vigor on both sides
for some hours, and our men succeeded in driving back the Federals,
with great loss. They, however, were unable to follow up their
advantage, and there came a lull in the storm of battle, during which
both armies seemed to be taking breath, preparatory to renewing the
fight with greater ferocity than ever.
At length the Federals rallied, and stormed the intrenchments with a
much larger force than before, and, after a severe struggle, the
Confederates were driven back into the fort, leaving hundreds of the
dead and wounded lying on the frozen ground. By this time our ranks had
been so thinned out, that every one felt it would be madness to
continue the contest longer against the greatly superior force of the
enemy. We had fought, and fought gallantly, doing all that
soldiers could do to maintain ourselves; but, in spite of the
desperate valor that the garrison had displayed, defeat stared us in
the face, and it would have been useless bloodshed to have attempted a
prolongation of the battle. The Federals, for this once, at least, were
masters of the field, and all we cared longer to do was to get as many
of our men as possible away before the surrender took place, and to
retrieve the disaster by meeting the enemy under more auspicious
circumstances another time.
Departure Of Floyd And Pillow.
I felt the most profound pity for General Floyd, when he
found that further resistance was useless, and that the fort
must be given up to the enemy. He actually shed tears, and both
he and General Pillow seemed borne down by the keenest
humiliation, when, after turning over the command to
General Buckner, they embarked their men hurriedly on the
boats at night, and effected their escape. Every one knew that
they could do no good by remaining, and that, by so doing, they
would only give so many more prisoners to the exultant victors;
but many of those who were left behind seemed to consider
their departure as cowardly, and as an attempt to shirk danger,
and greeted them with hisses and groans as they embarked. I
was indignant at this, for I knew that they had done all that
could have been expected of them, and that for them to
participate in the surrender would only increase the extent of
the disaster, and add to the importance of the Federal victory.
This was undoubtedly one of the most terrible battles of
the whole war, the fact of its having been fought in the
midst of an unusually severe winter serving to increase its
horrors tenfold. Towards the last, the contest between the
besiegers and besieged was hand to hand, both sides
contending for the mastery with a ferocity which I cannot
pretend to command words to describe. Again and again were
the Federals repulsed from the works, and, at some points,
they were so much cut up that it seemed impossible for them to
rally again. Re-enforcements of fresh troops, however, came
continually to the relief of the defeated assailants, while each
hour thinned out the garrison terribly. After every repulse, the
enemy advanced to the attack with increased force, or made a
furious assault in a new place, and by the time General Buckner
surrendered the fort to General Grant, the vicinity of the
earthworks, for miles around, presented a sickening spectacle
of devastation and human suffering.
After The Battle.
In every direction the ground was trampled by thousands of
feet, was cut up by the artillery carriages, and was strewn
with dead horses and men, and with all kinds of munitions of
war. In many of the trenches, especially where the fiercest
fighting had taken place, the bodies were heaped together, six
or seven feet high, and the faces of the corpses, distorted
with the agonies of their death struggles, were hideous to look
at. Those who fell, and died where they were shot, were
comparatively fortunate, for their sufferings were soon ended.
It was sickening, however, to think of the many poor fellows
who, after fighting bravely, and falling helpless from their
wounds, had their lives crushed out, and their forms mangled
beyond recognition, by the furiously driven artillery.
All the houses in the town of Dover were filled with the
wounded, and the air was fairly alive with the groans. Dr.
Moore, and other surgeons, did their best to alleviate the
sufferings of the victims of cruel war; but the best they could
do was but little. Some of the men, with their limbs fearfully
mangled, pleaded most piteously not to have them amputated,
many of them stating that they preferred death to this new
torture. Others could do no more than groan, or utter such
cries as "God help me;" while not a few besought the
surgeons to kill them, and end their misery. It was no wonder
Dr. Moore said that it was no place for women, and that it was
as much as the strong nerves of a man could do to bear up
under such an accumulation of horrors.
More accustomed to such scenes than most women, and
better able to face the terrible sights by which I was
surrounded, I endeavored, notwithstanding I was worn out,
bodily and mentally, and was overwhelmed in spirit by the
fearful disaster which had overtaken the Confederate arms, to
aid, as much as lay in my power, to make the wounded men as
comfortable as possible, until I saw that, if I intended to escape,
I must do so at once.
Although the horrors of a great battle like this affected me
greatly at the time of their occurrence, still the excitement
enabled me to bear up, and it was not until after a battle was
over, and I was compelled to reflect, that I fully realized what a
fearful thing this human slaughtering was. Immediately after
the defeat at Fort Donelson, especially, I was greatly depressed
in spirit, and it was long before I could shake off the disposition
to shudder, and the feeling of intense melancholy, that
overcame me to such an extent, that I almost resolved to give
up the whole business, and to never allow myself to be put in
the way of witnessing anything of the kind again.
In course of time, however, this feeling wore off, and as,
with restored health, — for I was quite sick from the exposures,
fatigues, and horrors of the battle, — my spirits regained their
elasticity, my restless disposition would not let me remain
inactive while so many exciting scenes were being
enacted around me, and while the fate of the Confederacy
was trembling in the balance. If I did not forget the horrors of
Fort Donelson, they erelong ceased to oppress me, and I was
as ready as ever to do my share of any fighting that was going
on. It was never my disposition to brood over misfortunes, and,
although this one affected me deeply for a season, I succeeded
in overcoming its effects, and, after a little rest and
recuperation, was ready to resume my life of adventure
as a soldier of fortune.
CHAPTER XV.
DETECTION
AND ARREST IN NEW ORLEANS.
Taking a Rest at Nashville. — Again on the March. — I join General A.
S. Johnston's Army. — Wounded in a Skirmish. — Am afraid of having
my Sex discovered, and leave suddenly for New Orleans. — In New
Orleans I am suspected of being a Spy, and am arrested. — The Officer
who makes the Arrest in Doubt. — The Provost Marshal orders my
Release. — I am again arrested by the Civil Authorities on Suspicion
of being a Woman. — No Way out of the Scrape but to reveal my
Identity. — Private Interview with Mayor Monroe. — The Mayor fines
and imprisons me. — I enlist as a private Soldier. — On arriving
at Fort Pillow, obtain a Transfer to the Army of East Tennessee.
ROM
Fort Donelson I went, with what speed I could, to Nashville, and
took rooms at the St. Cloud Hotel. I was utterly used up from fatigue,
exposure, anxiety, and bitter disappointment; and both I and my negro
boy Bob — who had been taken quite sick during the battle — needed
an opportunity to thoroughly rest ourselves. It was an immense relief
to reach a good hotel, where I could have a shelter over my head, a
comfortable bed, and wholesome food; but such was the restlessness of
my disposition, and the agitation of my mind, on account of the terrible
scenes through which I had just passed, that I could not keep quiet; and
scarcely had I recovered a little from my fatigue, than I was eager to be
in motion again.
The Excitement In Nashville.
Nashville was in an intense state of excitement over the
unexpected result of the attack upon Fort Donelson; and,
stimulated, perhaps, as much by the turmoil around me, and by
the apprehensions that were felt by every one, lest the Federals
should follow up their success by marching on the city, my old
eagerness to be an active participant in the contest which was
being waged, returned with all its former force, and I was
soon as anxious as ever to do a soldier's full duty. If the
Federals were to be effectively resisted, and the defeat of
Donelson retrieved, there was but one course for the friends of
the Confederacy, whether soldiers or citizens, to pursue, and
strenuous exertion was the duty which the exigencies of the
situation enforced upon every one. I felt that this was not the
time for me to shirk the responsibilities I had voluntarily
assumed, for if ever my services were needed, they were
needed now. After a very brief repose at the St. Cloud,
therefore, I was ready to brave the hardships and dangers
of the battle-field again.
Sending my negro boy to Grand Junction in charge of a
friend, I went to the headquarters of General Albert Sydney
Johnston, and upon asking for employment, was put in the
detective corps. There was plenty of work for everybody to do,
for the fall of Fort Donelson had rendered it necessary that the
whole Southern army should fall back for the purpose of
taking up a new line, and I had no reason to complain of a lack
of activity, although the activity of a retreat was not exactly
what I most admired. I was not very long in getting my fighting
blood up again; but, unfortunately, my combative propensities,
this time, had a somewhat serious result, which compelled me
to abandon the line of duty I had chosen, and to disappear from
the sight of my new associates.
Wounded.
While participating in a skirmish with the enemy, who
were harassing us whenever an opportunity offered, I was
wounded in the foot. This lamed me, and compelled me to
have the hurt dressed by the surgeon, at which I was not a
little alarmed, for I knew that I was now in imminent danger
of having my sex discovered. The wound was not a very
severe one, and I probably magnified its importance; but the
circumstances were such that it could scarcely have a fair
chance to heal speedily if I remained in the field, and
dreading the prospect of being for a long period under the
care of the surgeon, who would be much more likely to suspect
me than any one else, I resolved that the only course for me to
pursue was to abandon the army before I got into trouble.
I therefore availed myself of the earliest possible opportunity
to take French leave, and quietly slipped away to Grand
Junction, where I remained for three days, and then, in company
with my boy Bob, repaired to Jackson, Mississippi. At
Jackson I hired Bob out, as I wanted to get rid of him for a
while, having in my mind certain plans, in the execution of
which it would have been an incumbrance for him to have
been with me. Bob being disposed of in a satisfactory manner,
I hastened, without further delay, to New Orleans, and took up
my quarters at the Brooks House.
By abandoning the army, however, and going to New Orleans at this
particular juncture, I was, to use a homely phrase, jumping out of the
frying-pan into the fire. Rigid as was army discipline, and strict as
were the precautions taken to prevent treachery and the surveillance of
spies, I had managed to sustain myself in the army as an independent
without difficulty, and was on the best possible terms with everybody.
In New Orleans, on the other hand, I found the spirit of suspicion
rampant. Confidence in the ability of the city to defend itself
against the impending Federal attack was expressed on all sides, but
the fact that an attempt was undoubtedly to be made, before a great
while, for its reduction, and the uncertainty with regard to the exact
nature of the blow, or the exact direction from which it would fall,
caused an uneasiness that could not be disguised. The Federals were
known to be mustering an enormous fleet at the mouth of the river, and
a large army on the Sound, and my surmises of months before, based upon
what I had heard in Washington, were, apparently, about to be realized.
New Orleans Apprehensive Of An Attack.
While the city was in this condition of suspense, each man
looked more or less askance at his neighbor, and the fear of
Federal spies was a feeling that preponderated over all others
in the hearts of many. People who, in war time, don't do any
fighting, are, according to my experience, as bellicose in their
language as they are cowardly in the face of real danger,
making up in suspiciousness and vindictiveness what they lack
in valor. It was not to be wondered at, therefore, that I
speedily got myself into serious trouble, to escape the
consequences of which I was compelled to resort to some
desperate shifts.
I did not at all appreciate the situation when I went to New
Orleans. When I entered Washington it was as a spy, and I
consequently had all my wits about me; but in New Orleans
I thought I was among my friends, and very imprudently
neglected ordinary precautions for avoiding difficulties.
During the eight or nine months I had been wearing male
attire, I had, as the reader is aware, seen a great deal of very
hard service. My clothing was well worn, and my apparatus for
disguising my form was badly out of order; and the result
was, that I scarcely presented as creditable a manly
appearance as I did upon the occasion of my last visit to New
Orleans. I had, too, by this time become so much accustomed
to male attire that I ceased to bear in my mind, constantly, the
absolute necessity for preserving certain appearances, and had
grown careless about a number of little matters that, when
attended to properly, aided materially in maintaining my
incognito. In addition to all this, I was in very low spirits, if not
absolutely sick, when I reached New Orleans, and was not in
a mood to play my part in the best manner.
My Arrest As A Spy.
I had not been in the city very long before it was noted by
prying people that there was some mystery about me, and for
any one to have a mystery just then, was equivalent to falling
under the ban of both military and civic authorities. I, of
course, imagining no evil, was not prepared for a
demonstration against me, and was accordingly thunderstruck
when I was arrested on the charge of being a spy, and taken
before the provost marshal.
Terror, dismay, and indignation struggled for mastery with
me when this outrage, as I considered it, was perpetrated. My
great secret, I feared, was now on the point of being
discovered; and if it was discovered, the probabilities were
that I would be unable any longer to continue the career I had
marked out for myself. I was enraged at the idea of being
charged with acting as a spy, and of having my patriotism
doubted after all I had done to promote the cause of Southern
independence; and at the same time I appreciated the
difficulties and dangers of the situation, and puzzled my brain
to devise a plan for getting myself out of a very ugly scrape.
Reviewing the matter very rapidly in my own mind, I
determined that the best, if not the only plan, was to present a
bold front, and to challenge my accusers to prove anything against me,
reserving a revelation of my identity as a last alternative.
I entered a vigorous protest against the whole proceeding to
the officer who made the arrest, and I could see, from his
hesitating and indecisive manner, that he was in possession of
no definite charge against me, and was inclined to be dubious
about the propriety or legality of his action. This encouraged
me, and induced me to believe that I might be able to brave the
thing through; but I resolved, if I did get clear, to cut my visit to
New Orleans as short as possible. My protest, however, was of
no avail, so far as procuring an instantaneous release was
concerned, for the officer insisted upon my accompanying
him to the office of the provost marshal.
A Delicate Situation.
While on my way to the provost marshal's, my conductor questioned
me closely, but I gave him such answers as evidently increased his
uneasy feelings, and I soon saw that he was beginning to seriously
doubt whether he was doing exactly the correct thing in making the
arrest. Finally, he proposed to release me; but to this I objected
in very decided terms, and insisted on knowing exactly what accusations
there were against me.
To the office of the provost marshal we accordingly went,
and, after a very few questions, that official decided, with
gratifying promptness, that there was no justification for
holding me, and ordered my discharge from custody.
This appeared to astonish the individual who had made the
arrest very much, and it was evident that he was repenting of
his rashness, and was anxious to get out of an unpleasant
predicament the best way he could.
I enjoyed his discomfiture immensely, and, turning to him
with all the dignity I could command, I demanded his name.
This, with very evident reluctance, he at length gave me, and
making him a stiff bow, I said, in a quiet but threatening
manner, "I will see you again about this matter, sir," as I
walked out of the office.
My Sex Suspected.
In spite of my bravado, however, this incident gave me a
great deal of uneasiness, for I saw that I was in a dangerous
predicament, and was liable at any moment to get into further
trouble. I was not much surprised, therefore, although greatly
disgusted, when the next evening I was again arrested, this
time on suspicion of being a woman. Now what I had so long
dreaded was come to pass, and there was nothing to do but to
get out of the difficulties which environed me the best way I could.
Being taken before Mayor Monroe, I was interrogated by that individual
in a style that I did not at all admire. It seemed to me that he was
assuming a certain lordliness of manner that did not sit gracefully upon
him, and that was entirely uncalled for by the exigencies of the
occasion.
My replies to the queries of the mayor were not satisfactory to him,
for his very imperious and pompous bearing made me angry, and rather put
me on my mettle. He consequently chose to assume that I was a woman, and
ordered me to change my apparel.
I, however, was resolved not to give up without a severe
contest, having made up my mind, on assuming male attire, not
to acknowledge my sex except in the last extremity, and for the
sake of securing ends that could not otherwise be accomplished. So,
turning to Mr. Monroe, I said, with a dignified severity quite equal to
his own, "Sir, prove that I am a woman; it will be quite time, when
you do that, for you to give me an order to change my dress."
The Mayor Puzzled.
This rather disconcerted the mayor and his satellites; and,
watching their countenances closely, I saw that they were
nonplussed, and were doubtful how to proceed, being uncertain
whether or not they had made a mistake. My hopes of a
prompt discharge, however, were doomed to disappointment,
for the mayor, after a brief consultation, decided to remand me
to the calaboose, until it should be settled to his satisfaction
who I was, and whether I was a man or a woman. To the
calaboose I accordingly went, horrified at being subjected to
such an indignity, and with anything but pleasant or friendly
feelings towards the mayor, and the meddlesome, prying
busybodies who had been instrumental in getting me into this
trouble.
The circumstances of the case having, in the mean time,
become generally known, I was visited the next morning by a
local reporter, who showed a very eager desire to find out all
he could about me, for the purpose of writing a sensational
article for the paper with which he was connected. As may
be imagined, this sort of thing did not increase my amiability, or
tend to make me bear my misfortunes in a philosophical spirit.
I gave Mr. Reporter very little satisfaction, shaping my
conversation with him with a view of inducing him to believe
that a great mistake had been committed, and that I was the
victim of a very unjust persecution.
The reporter was troublesome, but I was not alarmed at
him, as I was at my next visitor, Dr. Root, of the Charity Hospital.
This gentleman, I knew, would be much more difficult to deal with; and
before he got through with questioning me, I was convinced, from his
manner, that his mind was made up with regard to me. I felt sure that
the easiest and best method, indeed, the only method I could safely
adopt, was to confess frankly to the mayor that I was really a woman,
trusting that this fact being settled in a manner satisfying to his
magisterial dignity, he would have no further pretext for keeping me in
confinement, and would order my release.
I therefore wrote a note to his honor, requesting a private
interview. This request he granted, and without any more
equivocation I told him who I was, and gave him what I hoped
would be satisfactory reasons for assuming the garb I wore.
My confession having been made, I next endeavored to treat
with the mayor for an immediate release, promising to leave
the city so soon as liberated, my idea being to return to
military life forthwith, as I had had quite enough of New
Orleans for the present.
A Fine And Imprisonment.
Mr. Monroe, however, having gotten me in his clutches,
was not disposed to let me go so easily, and he said that he
would be compelled to fine me ten dollars, and to sentence me
to ten days' imprisonment — a decision that did not increase my
good opinion of him, for absolutely nothing had been brought
up against my character or my conduct, and I could not, and do
not now, see the justice or propriety of such a proceeding.
I thought that this was pretty rough treatment,
considering all that I had done to serve the Confederacy.
From the outbreak of the war I had been on active duty in the
face of the enemy, and had taken part in some of the hardest
fought battles in the war, while my persecutor had remained at
home enjoying his ease, and taking good care to keep out of
danger. To prove this to him, as I could easily have done
by procuring
testimonials from my numerous friends in the army,
would have ruined all my hopes and expectations for the future,
however, for, in spite of my present unpleasant situation, I was
resolved not to give the thing up. So I concluded that the best
plan was to suffer in silence, and to allow the mayor to have
what satisfaction he could get out of my ten dollars — I wonder
if any of it went into the city treasury? — and out of keeping
me incarcerated for ten days.
Resolving to be as patient as I could, and to be even with
Mr. Monroe some day, if ever a good opportunity presented
itself, I consoled myself with the idea that my term of
imprisonment was a short one, and would soon be over. I was
dreadfully tired of it, however, before the hour of release
arrived; and each day my indignation at such an unwarranted
outrage increased. The more I thought over the matter the less
was I able to see that there was any valid reason for my being
subjected to such treatment. At length, after long and impatient
waiting, I was free once more; and now the problem was to get
out of New Orleans as quickly as possible, before I was
recognized by too many people, and in such disguise that I
would be able to follow the bent of my inclinations without hinderance.
Exactly how to manage this, I had some difficulty in
determining; but as the situation was a somewhat desperate
one, I was ready to resort to a desperate measure to
accomplish my ends. I felt sure that once more with the army I
would be safe; but, with so many suspicious people watching
me, it would be, I knew, extremely difficult to get away as I
had come, and to enter upon my old career as an independent,
without questioning or hinderance. It was therefore necessary
for me to smuggle myself, so to speak, among the soldiers
again, and I hit upon an expedient for doing so, which, although
I felt that it was risky, I resolved to try, and to take my
chances for getting out of a new difficulty in case I should
fall into one.
I Enlist.
As soon as possible, therefore, after obtaining my
release, I proceeded to the recruiting office at the corner of
Jefferson and Chatham Streets, and enlisted in Captain B. Moses'
company, of the twenty-first Louisiana regiment. The next day we
started for Fort Pillow, to join the balance of the regiment.
In this manner I contrived to get clear of New Orleans, but,
as I had no fancy for going on duty as a private soldier any
longer than was absolutely necessary, although the regiment of
which I was a member was as gallant a one as ever went into
battle, and my comrades were, most of them, pleasant,
agreeable fellows, my next thought was to resume my independent
footing at the earliest moment. I therefore went
privately to General Villipigue, and, showing my commission,
told a plausible story to account for my enlistment, and asked
him to give me employment as an officer. The officers and
men of the regiment, of course, knew nothing of my being in
possession of this document, or of my previous history. General
Villipigue was not able to do anything for me, as there were
no vacancies, and I therefore applied for a transfer to the
army of East Tennessee, and was very cheerfully granted it.
This was the first time I had ever been regularly mustered
into the service, and the step was taken, not from choice, but
for the purpose of escaping from the surveillance of Mayor
Monroe and the Provost Marshal, two individuals whom, after a
very brief acquaintance, I did not particularly care to know
more intimately. I had many regrets in parting from the officers
and men of the twenty-first regiment, whom I had learned to
like very much in the short time I had been with them, but I felt
that my interests demanded a removal to another locality.
Consequently, so soon as I received my papers, I said adieu to
my new friends, and was off with all possible speed.
I was not in a very happy frame of mind, and my physical
condition was scarcely better than my mental. The occurrences
of the weeks that had just passed had not been of the most
pleasurable character, and my personal difficulties in New
Orleans, coming as they did when I had not recovered from the
mental and bodily suffering caused by the contest at Fort
Donelson, did not have the eject of making me view life from its
bright side. After the episode of a ten days' sojourn in prison,
however, it was a great relief for me to feel that I had my
destiny in my own hands once more; and at the prospect of
again entering upon a life of adventure that would afford me
opportunities for winning distinction, my spirit rose, and I was
disposed to dismiss the past, with all its unpleasantnesses, and
to make a fresh start with all the energy I could command.
CHAPTER XVI.
AN UNFORTUNATE LOVE AFFAIR.
Again at Memphis. — Public and private
Difficulties. — Future
Prospects. — Arrival of my Negro Boy and Baggage from Grand
Junction. — A new uniform Suit. — Prepared once more to face the
World. — I
fall in with an old Friend. — An Exchange of Compliments. — Late
Hours. — Some of the Effects of Late Hours. — Confidential
Communications. — The Course of true Love runs not smooth. — I renew
my Acquaintance with General Lucius M. Polk. — The General disposed to
be friendly. — My Friend and I call on his Lady-love and her
Sister. — Surprising Behavior of the young Lady. — A genuine
Love-letter. — A secret disclosed. — Incidents of a Buggy
Ride. — A
Declaration of Love. — Lieutenant H. T. Buford as a
Lady-killer. — Why should Women not pop the Question as well as
Men? — A melancholy
Disclosure for my Friend. — I endeavor to encourage him. — A Visit
to the Theatre and an enjoyable Evening. — I meet a Friend from New
Orleans, and endeavor to remove any Suspicions with regard to my
Identity from his Mind. — Progress of my Love-affair with Miss
M. — The young Lady and I have our Pictures taken. — I proceed to
Corinth for the Purpose of taking Part in the expected Battle. — The
Confederate Army advances from Corinth towards Pittsburg
Landing.
AVING
secured my transportation and transfer papers, I went to Memphis
by the first boat, and was erelong once again at my original
starting-point, but in a much less enviable mood than when I had last
visited it. Then I was dissatisfied with the way in which things seemed
to be going, and especially with the — as it appeared to me —
very unnecessary and vexatious difficulties that presented themselves
whenever I attempted to secure such a position as would enable me to
labor with the most efficiency. My confidence in the sacredness of the
cause, in the ability of the Southern armies to sustain it, and its
ultimate triumph, were, however, unbroken, notwithstanding that I
believed precious time was being wasted, and that, through a mistaken
policy, the Confederates were compelled to stand upon the defensive,
when they ought to have assumed the aggressive, and attacked
the enemy on his own ground.
Now, however, things had changed. The terrible disaster at
Fort Donelson had been a rude blow to my ideas of Southern
invincibility in the field, and if it did not induce me to despair, it
certainly opened my eyes to the magnitude of the task we had
on hand, and compelled me to recognize the fact, that we were
contending with a resolute and powerful enemy, whose
resources were enormously superior to ours, and who was
evidently bent upon crushing us to the earth, and compelling us
to submit to his dictation. All the fine dreams of the previous
summer were dissipated into thin air, but there still remained the
consolation, that during the bitter struggle yet to come, there
would doubtless be plenty of opportunities for me to serve the
cause with efficiency, and to win personal glory by my performances.
I had a certain grim satisfaction, too, in thinking that, as
things were going, my ambition to do some genuine hard work
would scarcely be so lightly regarded in certain quarters as it
had been, and that my zeal would consequently be recognized
and rewarded as I thought that it deserved to be.
Difficulties Of My Position.
Apart altogether from the disappointments incident to
the military situation, were my private difficulties. My sex had
been discovered; and notwithstanding my motives for assuming
male attire, and my exemplary conduct while doing a soldier's
duty, I had been subjected to gross indignities, simply because I
chose to perform a man's, rather than a woman's work. This
galled me, especially as my secret having once been revealed, it
would now be more than ever difficult for me to figure
successfully as a man, and I knew that I would constantly
be in danger of detection.
Notwithstanding this, however, I was undismayed, and was
resolved upon carrying out my original programme, so
far as was practicable, and only sought a field of operations
where I would be able to follow the bent of my inclinations
with as little probability as possible of being interfered with.
Having accomplished my object in leaving New Orleans,
and of maintaining a masculine appearance in doing so, I was
encouraged to believe that I would be able, by a little discreet
management, to get along without a repetition of the troubles
I had encountered in that city, that in the sharp fighting about to
occur between the contending armies, I would be able to show
my qualities as a soldier to even greater advantage than
hitherto, and that amid the excitements of the battle-field and
the camp I would forget, or at least cease to think about, the
unpleasant things of the past.
So soon as I arrived at Memphis, I telegraphed to Grand
Junction for my baggage and my servant, and then went to the
tailor, and giving him an order for an officer's uniform suit, with
instructions to have it ready at the earliest possible moment,
borrowed from him a coat to wear until my new clothing
should be ready. I discarded my soldier's jacket with quite as
much satisfaction as had inspired me on assuming it, and
prepared myself to wait, with what equanimity I could
command, the moment when I might be able to figure once
more in the eyes of both sexes as the dashing young
independent, Lieutenant Harry T. Buford. Clothing, and
particular cuts of clothing, have a great deal to do towards
making us all, men or women, appear what we would like the
world to take us for; and as, although my borrowed coat
answered a temporary purpose very well, it did not show me
off to the best advantage, I resolved to keep out of sight as
much as possible until the tailor had executed his task. I was
really not sorry for an opportunity to shut myself up for a day
or two, so that I could take a thorough rest, and think, without
being interrupted, what was the best plan of action for the
immediate future.
My Negro Boy Bob.
The next night, about eleven o'clock, my faithful boy Bob
arrived with my baggage, and was delighted to see me again,
although my haggard appearance evidently surprised and
shocked him. Poor fellow! He little knew what I had passed
through since I had parted with him.
"Why, Mas' Harry," he said, "you do look dreadful bad. Has
you been sick?"
"Yes, Bob," I replied. "I have been quite ill since I left you,
but I am getting quite well now, and am ready to go for the
Yankees again."
Bob's eyes sparkled at this, for he was beginning to love
fighting almost as much as myself, although the experiences
of Fort Donelson had served to extinguish a good deal of the
martial ardor that was burning in his heart. I told him enough
about my movements since I had seen him last to gratify his
curiosity, and to enable him to make satisfactory answers in
case any one should question him; and then, giving him orders
to call a hack, we drove to the Gegora House, where I took
rooms, and prepared to have as good a time as circumstances
would permit.
In Uniform Again.
My new uniform suit was ready at the appointed time, and I
hastened to array myself in it. Making my toilet with more than
usual care, and rearranging my mustache and imperial, which
had become somewhat demoralized of late, I took a cane in
hand, and strolled out to see what was to be seen, not without
a little trepidation, but feeling, on the whole, better satisfied with
myself and with things in general than I had done for a long time.
After stepping in and out of a number of the principal
saloons and drinking-places, I finally came across a friend
whom I was really very glad to meet. This was Lieutenant
Philip Hastings, a whole-souled fellow, for whom I had an
especial liking, and whom I accordingly greeted with great
cordiality. Hastings returned my greeting in an equally cordial
manner. Shaking me by the hand, he said, "I am glad to see
you, old fellow. What is the good news with you? Where are
you from?"
"I am just from the Gulf City," I replied.
"Ah," said he; "what is there new there? Did you have a
good time? I suppose you were on a leave of absence."
"O, yes," said I; "I always manage to have a pretty good
time wherever I go."
A Delicate Subject.
Said Hastings, looking at me sharply, "I see you have
been raising a new crop of mustaches."
I am afraid that I smiled in a rather sickly manner at this;
but putting on as bold an air as I could command, I gave the
ornaments of my upper lip a twist, to let him see that they
were on tight, and said, "Yes, I have been letting them rush a
little; the girls tell me they are an improvement."
Hastings then asked me where I was going; and I replied,
that I expected to join Beauregard's army, but that my plans
were a little uncertain, as I was unfortunately an independent,
who belonged nowhere in particular; and that, as the
commanding officers were getting so confoundedly strict with
regard to a good many things, while they were not half strict
enough about others of more consequence, I was not sure
where I would bring up. I added, that I was at present in the
detective corps, and offered to serve him in any way in my
power. He thanked me; and then I asked him how he was
getting along, and what time he had been stationed in
Memphis.
He informed me that he had been on duty there about three
months, but that he expected to be ordered to the front very
soon.
After a little more conversation of this sort, Hastings
said, "I am trying to marry a mighty pretty girl here, but I don't
somehow get along with her as well as I could wish. She is a
good girl, just as good as they get to be, and she has a
deucedly pretty sister, about fifteen years of age, who I think
would suit you. They are not rich, but they are mighty nice,
and I would like to introduce you."
"Well, Phil," said I, "I am willing — anything to pass the
time pleasantly."
"Well, let's take a drink," said Hastings, "and we will go
and see them."
After Visiting Hours.
Hastings had been taking something before I met him, and
as I had treated just after we met, this additional drink had the
effect of making him rather livelier than the law allowed. He
took a brandy smash, and a full-sized one, while I, according to
custom, drank cider. Then lighting our cigars, we strolled down
the street, my companion bent on making the proposed call. I
knew, however, that it must be past visiting hours, and,
stopping under a lamp-post, pulled out my watch, and,
glancing at it, asked him if he knew what time it was.
"O, it's not late," said he; "about eleven o'clock; they won't
be gone to bed yet."
I showed him the dial of the watch, and he exclaimed,
"Thunder and lightning! Why, it's one o'clock."
Notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, however, he was
very much disposed to insist on going to see the ladies, but
finally I succeeded in persuading him of the impropriety of such a
course, although he yielded very unwillingly. He then wanted to go
and make a night of it somewhere; and on my refusing, started off by
himself, I being unable to induce him to go home and get in bed. I did,
however, talk him into letting me take charge of his money, with the
exception of his small change, and on the plea that I had promised to
meet a friend at the hotel, contrived to get away from him. I disliked
very much to let Phil go off by himself in the condition he was in, but
as he was just enough under the influence of what he had imbibed to be
troublesome, and was bent upon having what he called, some fun, my own
safety demanded that I should leave him. My New Orleans experience had
been a severe one, and it was much too fresh in my memory for me to be
willing to run any unnecessary risks of being arrested on similar
charges in Memphis, especially as I felt certain that it would not be so
easy to get out of the clutches of the authorities a second time, while
my future prospects would, in all probability, be irreparable damaged.
So, cautioning my friend to take good care of himself, I went back to
the hotel as fast as I could, and was soon asleep.
Misplaced Affection.
The next morning Phil came around to the hotel to claim his money, which
amounted to over two thousand dollars in Confederate bills. He did not
look as fresh as he might have done if he had followed the good advice I
gave him the night before, was in a somewhat repentent mood, and, as
people when feeling rather badly through their own indiscretion are apt
to feel, he was very confidential about a variety of private affairs.
During our conversation that morning, he told me any number of his
secrets, and especially gave me to understand that matters were not
going as well as could be wished between him and his lady-love. I had a
fancy that the young lady was, perhaps, offended at something he had
said or done while a little under the influence of liquor, and tried to
console him and to encourage him, by offering to aid him in any way I
could towards straightening matters out. I little suspected what the
real difficulty was, or I, perhaps, would not have been so ready in
offering my assistance. Alas, poor Phil! his affections were bestowed in
the wrong direction, but he lived in hope that things would finally
shape themselves
according to his wishes, and he confidently expected that in time he
would be able so to soften the lady's heart towards him, that she
would accept his hand. His dreams of happiness, however, were cut short
in an untimely manner, for I saw him fall, while fighting bravely,
about two weeks subsequently, at the head of his company, at the battle
of Shiloh.
Phil took breakfast with me, and after our meal was despatched, we went
to a livery stable, and, obtaining a couple of horses, rode out to camp.
I dined with him about four o'clock, and then we rode leisurely back to
town, and went up to my room, where we smoked and chatted until
supper-time.
On going into the supper-room, I noticed that the eyes of a number of
people whom I knew, and especially of several ladies by whom I was in
some little fear of being recognized, were fixed upon me. I, however,
gave my mustaches a savage twist, and putting on as manly a swagger as
I was able to command, determined to brave all consequences.
I Meet General L. M. Polk Again.
My old friend, General Lucius M. Polk, was seated at one of the tables,
and I took a seat which brought me nearly back to back with him. He did
not notice me when I came in, and I did not care to intrude myself upon
him, so did nothing to attract his attention. Soon, however, I said to
Hastings, pointing to an old lady in another part of the room,
"Lieutenant, there is one of the ladies who were in the habit of
visiting Camp Beauregard when I was doing provost duty on the train."
When General Polk heard this, he evidently recognized a familiar voice,
and turning round, shook hands with me very cordially.
"Excuse me, general," said I, "but I did not see you when I came in."
"When did you arrive?" said the general.
"Last evening," I replied.
"Where are you from?"
"From New Orleans."
"Is there anything new?"
"No; matters are pretty much as usual. Is there anything new in camp?"
"Well," said the general, "we are expecting to have another
battle before long."
"Then," said I, "I am just in time."
"Yes, if you want to have a hand in it," he said. "Are you going out?"
"Probably day after to-morrow," I replied.
"I go at ten o'clock this evening," said the general; and then,
turning to the lady with him, he said, "Permit me to introduce
you to Mrs. Polk."
I introduced Hastings to the general and his wife, and after a
little chat with them, they said good by, and left the room.
Hastings and I finished our supper, and then strolled into the
bar-room and lighted our cigars.
He was now impatient to have me go with him to call on
his girl; so I took his arm, and we sauntered down the street
together in the direction of the house which contained the
object of his adoration. We stood on the corner for a little
while until we had finished our smoke, and then went up to the
front door, where Phil rang the bell.
A Social Call.
I always felt a little timorous and unpleasant when
compelled to play the rôle I had undertaken, in a social way,
among members of my own sex; and whether because of my
recent adventure in New Orleans, or for some other cause, I
felt unusually reluctant to make the acquaintance of Phil's lady
friends. Had I then suspected all that I found out afterwards, I
would have been even more dubious about the propriety of
permitting myself to be introduced.
We took our seats in the parlor, and soon the two young
ladies made their appearance. I was introduced; and as I could
see that Hastings desired to converse with Miss M., I
undertook to make myself as agreeable as possible to Miss E.
We did not get along very well together, however, for she was
very shy and bashful, while I was far from feeling at my ease,
and was conscious of not distinguishing myself very greatly as
a lady's man.
After a little while, as our conversation was not very
enlivening, Miss E., apparently as much to break the monotony
of the performance as anything else, went out, and returned
shortly with a servant girl bearing a waiter of apples. This
brought the other couple out of the corner where they had
been sitting and conversing in a low tone, and the four of us
amused ourselves by eating apples and telling fortunes with the
seeds. This appeared to afford some amusement to the other
three, but I found it rather dull entertainment, and heartily
wished that the evening was over. Phil, however, was so wrapped
up with his lady, that he was in no hurry to go; but somehow
Miss M. did not appear to fancy him by any means as much as
he did her, and before a great while they had quite a falling out,
and she addressed her conversation chiefly to me, and seemed
to have taken quite a liking to me. I was not a little surprised at
the warmth of her manner, but supposed that she was merely
trying to provoke Phil by a little coquetry, and never imagined
for an instant that there was anything serious in it all.
Unexpected Cordiality.
When we arose to leave, Miss M. was scarcely polite to Phil,
but she looked at me in a very bewildering way; and squeezing
my hand a little more than our brief acquaintance warranted,
gave me a most pressing invitation to call again.
As we walked up the street, Phil asked me how I was
pleased, and then told me all about his falling out with his girl.
She, it seems, had insisted, with considerable vehemence, that
she did not, could not, and would not, love him, and he was very
much disposed to think, from what she said, and from the
manner in which she behaved, that some other fellow was
cutting him out. He little imagined that his friend, Harry T.
Buford, was the innocent and unsuspecting cause of his
troubles. I tried to cheer him up as well as I could, and then
we parted, he to get his horse for a night ride to camp, and I to
go to bed at the hotel.
A Secret Revealed.
The next day I received two letters, one of which was from
my future husband; for, gentle reader, all these months that, in
a guise of a man, I had been breaking young ladies' hearts by
my fascinating figure and manner, my own woman's heart
had an object upon which its affections were bestowed, and I
was engaged to be married to a truly noble officer of the
Confederate army, who knew me, both as a man and as a
woman, but who little suspected that Lieutenant Harry T.
Buford, and his intended wife, were one and the same person.
By this letter, I learned that my lover was then at Corinth,
where I expected to meet him in a few days, and my heart
jumped for joy at the idea of being able to fight by his side in
the battle that was coming off. This I was determined to do, if
the thing could be managed.
Under the influence of the pleasurable emotions excited by
this letter, and the prospect of again seeing the man I loved
after a separation of many months, I wrote a note to the two
young ladies I had visited the night before, inviting them to go
buggy-riding. I then went to the bank and drew some money, and
on my return to the hotel, found an acceptance from my lady friends.
I accordingly hired a couple of teams, one for Hastings, and
one for myself; but on arriving at the house, much to Phil's
disgust, Miss M. would not go with him, and he took her sister,
while his lady, with great apparent satisfaction, seated herself in
my vehicle. I felt for him, for I knew that he was terribly
disappointed; and with a just received love-letter of my own in
my pocket, I was more appreciative of his emotions than I
probably otherwise would have been, and made an attempt
towards effecting another arrangement. Phil, however, put on a
careless air, as if it were all one to him which girl he had, and
tipping me a wink, said that he was satisfied as things were.
When we got started, I said to Miss M., "I am afraid I am interfering
with my friend's pleasure."
"O," said she, "it's all right. I don't belong to
him. He is mad
with me, and I don't care if he never gets pleased again."
"You must be mistaken," I said. "I know that he thinks a
great deal of you, and he would not offend you for the
world. You oughtn't to be hurt at his brusque manner
sometimes, for it's just a way he has, and he don't mean
anything by it."
"I don't care what his manner is," she put in, rather
tartly, "for I don't love him, and wish that he wouldn't bother me."
A Good Word For A Friend.
This induced me to think that I could put in a good word for Hastings,
and, perhaps, soften the heart of the lady towards him. I accordingly
began to set forth all his good qualities
in the best light, and to try and persuade her that it was worth
while to win the affections of such a fine fellow.
So soon as she fully comprehended what my meaning was,
she would not let me proceed; saying, "It's no use of talking to
me about Lieutenant Hastings. I cannot love him, for I am in
love with another man, and would give anything in the world
if I could only possess his heart."
I thought that this was getting to be rather more confidential
than there was any necessity for, considering our short
acquaintance; and had I been a man, I suppose it would have
been quite the proper thing for me to have become embarrassed.
As things were, however, I was rather amused at the idea of the young
lady undertaking to reveal the state of her affections in such an
explicit manner, but never suspected what she was really driving at. I
fancied that she was merely trying to draw me out for the purpose of
seeing what I would say to her, and thought that her real object, after
all, was to stimulate Phil's affections by making him a little jealous.
Women, as I have more means than one of knowing, are in the
habit of playing just such little tricks as these, and it is
astonishing what luck they have in making them succeed.
After considering a moment what I had better say in reply to
Miss M.'s bit of confidential communication, I asked if I knew
the fortunate individual who had made the conquest of her affections.
"Yes," she replied, looking at me out of the corners of her
eyes, and then bashfully dropping her eyelids, and doing her
best to blush.
"Well," said I, "if you will tell me his name, I will try and
find out for you what his feelings are. Perhaps if I give him a
hint that a nice girl is in love with him, he will try and make
himself agreeable."
A Revelation.
She hesitated, sighed, bit her lips, made a desperate attempt
at blushing, and finally murmured, in what was evidently
intended to be a sweet, low, and very touching tone of
voice, "I will tell you his initials;" and then, after moment's
hesitation, "They are H. T. B."
Before this came out, I was beginning to understand from
what direction the wind was blowing; and when this very broad
hint was given, I could scarcely contain myself from
laughing outright, the situation was so supremely ridiculous.
I managed, however, to keep a straight face, and feeling a real
sympathy for Phil, and an anxiety to make matters all right for him if I
could, I pretended not to understand who the fortunate one could be,
and said, "Where does he live? Is he an officer?"
"O, yes," she answered, "and one of the sweetest, handsomest
fellows that ever lived. He stops at one of the most fashionable
hotels."
I felt immensely flattered at this, as may be conceived, but could
not help thinking that, however entertaining it might be to me, it was
awful rough on Hastings. I still, however, pretended that I could
not understand, the lady all the while wondering, doubtless, what
made me so confoundedly obtuse; and after pretending for a few
moments to be guessing, I finally said, "Well, I'll give it up; I don't
know who it can be." And then, as if a bright idea had just struck me,
added, "O, here, just write his name in my diary, if you are too
bashful to tell me."
I accordingly handed her the book and a pencil, and she wrote my
name, and handed it back, blushing more furiously than ever.
I read the name; and pretending to be astonished, and dreadfully
shocked, exclaimed, "O, this cannot be possible!"
"Yes," said she, "you are the object of my affections, and have
been for a long time, and I am determined not to love any one else."
This was rushing the thing rather stronger than I thought there
was any occasion for; and wondering what on earth the girl meant,
I asked, "Since when have I been the object of your affections? I
have only been acquainted with you since last night."
"I have loved you ever since last November, when I saw you in
the cars. We were strangers then, but I have been longing ever since
for an opportunity to make your acquaintance."
I began to wonder how many more susceptible feminine hearts I
had unwittingly conquered during my military conductorship; but
thinking still of Phil's misfortune, I asked her whether she had ever
told him of all this.
She replied that she had, but that, not knowing my name, she was
unable to inform him who his rival was, although she had informed
him that there was a rival.
Here, thought I, was a nice mess; and I scarcely knew
whether to be amused or disgusted at the perversity of Fate, which
made me such an irresistible lady-killer. Miss M. was evidently dead in
earnest, and was a nice, attractive-looking, and real good girl, who
would have made Phil a capital wife. As for her forwardness in letting
me know the state of her affections for me, I could not blame her for
that; for I had adopted a similar expedient in my own case, and
considered that, although it is, as a rule, a man's place to make the
first advances, there is no good reason why a woman who is in love
with a man should not take measures to let him know the fact. The
conventionalities of society are not always based on reason and
common sense, and even where they have a rationalistic basis, people
are very apt to quibble about very immaterial points, to the neglect of
really weighty matters.
A Question Of Propriety.
In the relations of the sexes, there are many points which society
insists upon for the sake of the proprieties, which are absolutely
absurd when tested by any common-sense standard, while permitting
a laxity of manners in others that is far from being conducive to good
morals or to the general happiness. Many a woman has lost a good
husband through a false modesty, which would not permit her to
even give him a hint with regard to her real feelings; for some of the
best and most whole-souled men are frequently as timid and bashful
as the most timid and bashful women, and require some
encouragement before they can be induced to speak; while others are
strangely obtuse, and do not even think of being anything more than
commonly polite to particular ladies, unless something is done to
stimulate them. Such backward and thick-witted men are often the
most ardent lovers, and the fondest and best of husbands when they
are once aroused. Many a woman, too, is fond of one man while she
is being persistently courted by another; and if, as is apt to be the
case, the object of her regards refuses to notice her in the manner she
wishes, — perhaps simply because he does not like to interfere with
another man's love affair, — she has no resource, if she hopes for a
happy future, but to declare herself. There was, therefore, no occasion
for censuring Miss M.; but the fact that Phil's rival happened to be, of
all people in the world, Lieutenant Harry T. Buford, C. S. A., certainly
complicated the situation.
I could not resist the temptation to have a little sport at the
expense of Miss M.; but I was really desirous of trying so to
manage matters that Phil would be placed in a better position
with his lady than before. I knew that the worst thing I could
do would be to repel her advances, and concluded that it was
incumbent upon me to at least meet her half way. As she still
continued to address me with some degree of formality as
Lieutenant, or Mr. Buford, I — giving her an ogle that was
intended to be very sympathetic, and to indicate how
profoundly my feelings had been wrought upon — suggested
that she should call me Harry. This was said in a very tender
tone, and evidently made a great impression. During the
balance of the ride we exchanged confidences in a very lover-like
manner, and by the time we reached home again, Miss M.
was in a very happy state of mind, being convinced that she
had made a conquest of the man she had so long sighed for. It
was all very absurd, of course, and very melancholy from a
certain point of view; but I could not help being amused,
although I wished myself well out of the scrape, and resolved
to inform Phil how matters stood immediately.
A Surprise For My Friend.
Having returned our teams to the livery stable, I invited
him to my room, and having settled ourselves for a smoke, I
disclosed the whole situation to him. He was very much
surprised, and a good deal cut up by what I told him, and said
Miss M. had often spoken to him of another officer for whom
she had an affection, but that he had never imagined that it was I.
I told him that I was quite as much surprised as himself, and
that I certainly should not have called upon the lady had I
known what was going to happen.
Phil paced up and down the room a good deal agitated;
and at length he burst out with, "Well, now, lieutenant, ain't
women d — d deceitful things anyhow? but I shan't mind
being gone back on in this way very long. I will leave for the
field in a few days, and I will try and forget her, and, in the
meantime, I will not call without your consent."
"O, pshaw," said I; "I am not in love with the girl, Hastings,
and I don't expect to be. I have no intention of marrying, and
I don't propose to interfere with you in the least. So go ahead,
and win the lady if you can, and I don't doubt but that you
can, if you only try hard enough."
"No," said Hastings, "I don't want to marry any girl who
don't love me, or who has a fancy for another fellow."
"Well, any how," I replied, "it is kind of pleasant,
though, to have a nice place to pass one's leisure hours in, and
you might as well visit Miss M., even if you choose to give
up the idea of marrying her, as there is, certainly, no
necessity for your doing."
The Expensiveness Of Courtship.
"But," said Phil, — and I could not help laughing at the
sorrowful energy with which he made this declaration, — "a
fellow has to make a girl so many little presents, and show her
so many attentions, that the thing gets mighty expensive, unless
both parties mean business. It takes a sight of trouble to get
into the good graces of some women, and then they are so
fickle and uncertain, that it is impossible to tell when you have
them safe.
"Why," said he, warming with his subject, "women have cost
me a small fortune, and I have had mighty little satisfaction
with them;" and then, lapsing into a reflective mood, added, "Why do
men run after them, any how, when they so often
regret it afterwards?" This was a conundrum, for which he,
apparently, found no satisfactory answer; for, after a moment's
pause, he said, "Well, I guess, it must be ordained, and we'll
have to put up with it."
This, I thought, was showing a proper philosophical spirit,
even if it was not altogether complimentary to my sex; so I said
"Well, Phil, we ought not to complain about women being what
they are; we must always remember that our mothers were women."
This appeared to touch Phil in a tender place; for he said,
in a softer tone, "That's so; and God Almighty never made
anything better than a real good woman. The good ones are
better than the best of us men. If any man were to take
advantage of my sister I would kill him."
I then suggested that he should not give it up with Miss M.
yet, and promised to aid his cause with her as best I could.
The result was, that Hastings was feeling a good deal better at
the close of the conversation than at the beginning of it, and his
little disappointment in love did not in the least prevent him
from eating, and evidently enjoying immensely, a very hearty supper.
While at supper, I proposed that we should go to the theatre,
and take the girls. To this Phil readily assented, and Bob was
accordingly despatched with an invitation. He soon returned,
with an answer to the effect that the ladies would be most
happy to accompany us.
On our way to the theatre, Miss M. suggested that we
should have our pictures taken, and gallantry would not permit
me to refuse. So I made an engagement with her for the
next day to go to the photographers. I had not seen a play
for a long time, and consequently enjoyed the entertainment
immensely; and being considerably more interested in it than in the
young lady, Phil had no reason to complain of the warmth of my
attentions to her. He tried to take advantage of the occasion to
reinstate himself in her good graces, but I am sorry to say that
he did not make much headway, and Miss M., much to his
chagrin, persisted in manifesting a decided partiality for
Lieutenant Buford.
An Alarm.
After the play was over we took the ladies home; and I
said good night to Hastings, who started for camp, while I
returned to the hotel, where I found a note from my friend,
Major Bacon, who was stopping at the Commercial Hotel. I
accordingly went to call on him, and found that he had just
arrived from New Orleans. This made me feel really uneasy,
and I was not a little alarmed when he told me that he had
heard of my arrest by the mayor. I was a trifle reassured,
however, when I was unable to notice anything in his speech or
manner to indicate that he believed me to be a women; and to
quiet any suspicions that might be lurking in his mind, I said, as
I twisted my mustache, and put on all the swagger I was able,
"I am a queer-looking female, ain't I, major?" And then, to
clinch the matter, I invited him to take a drink.
The major replied "Well, you might manage to pass for one,
if you were to put on petticoats;" but, rather to my
astonishment, he did not seem to be particularly interested in
the matter; and as I was not especially anxious to make it a
subject for conversation, we soon began to talk about something else.
The next day, in accordance with my promise, I went to the
photographers with Miss M., and we had our pictures taken,
and made an exchange. From that time, up to the date of my
departure from Memphis, I was an almost daily visitor at her
house, and was looked upon by her and her friends as an
accepted lover, although I certainly was not as explicit in my
language on the subject of matrimony as accepted lovers are
usually supposed to be under the necessity of being. On the
contrary, I tried to put in a good word for Phil as often as I
could, until I saw that it was no use pleading for him, as the
young lady seemed to have taken an unconquerable aversion
to him. That she should have discarded such a really worthy
fellow for me was a source of serious annoyance to me; and
one reason why I kept up my acquaintance with her was, in
the hope of doing him a service.
At length, all the officers in Memphis were ordered to
proceed to Corinth without delay, and then every one knew
that a big battle was expected to come off shortly. As a
consequence, the greatest excitement prevailed, and many of
the officers found it hard work parting from their friends. In
order to avoid a scene with Miss M., I wrote her a note,
bidding her farewell, which was not to be delivered until after I
left the city; and, jumping aboard the train, was soon on my
way to Corinth[.]
On arriving at Corinth, I found great preparations being made, and
everything nearly ready for a forward movement. I met a
considerable number of old friends, some of them old Virginia
comrades, whom I had not seen for a very long time. We
exchanged very cordial greetings, but otherwise we had not much
time to give to each other, they having important duties to
perform, while I was eagerly endeavoring to obtain some
official position that would enable me to participate in the coming
fight in a manner advantageous to myself. All the commanding
officers, however, were too busy just then to attend to me; and
so I resolved to follow the army to the field in my independent
capacity, and take my chances there.
The order to advance being given, the army moved out of
Corinth in the direction of Pittsburg Landing, animated by the
expectation of being able to fall upon the enemy, and deliver
a crushing blow at a moment when it was least expected.
CHAPTER XVII.
THE BATTLE OF SHILOH.
A Surprise upon the Federal Army at Pittsburg Landing
arranged. — A
brilliant Victory expected. — I start for the Front, and encamp for
the Night at Monterey. — My Slumbers disturbed by a
Rain-storm. — I find General Hardee near Shiloh Church, and ask
Permission to take a
Hand in the Fight. — The Opening of the Battle. — Complete Surprise
of the Federals. — I see my Arkansas Company, and join it. — A
Lieutenant being killed, I take his Place, amid a hearty Cheer from the
Men. — A Secret revealed. — I fight through the Battle under the
Command of my Lover. — Furious Assaults on the Enemy's Lines. — The
Bullets fly thick and fast. — General Albert Sydney Johnston
killed. — End of the first Day's Battle, and Victory for the
Confederates. — Beauregard's Error in not pursuing his
Advantage. — I slip
through the Lines after Dark, and watch what is going on at Pittsburg
Landing. — The Gunboats open Fire. — Unpleasant Effect of Shells
from big Guns. — Utter Demoralization of the Federals. — Arrival of
Buell with Re-enforcements. — General Grant and another general
Officer pass near me in a Boat, and I am tempted to take a Shot at them.
— I return to Camp, and wish to report what I had seen to General
Bureaugard, but am dissuaded from doing so by my Captain. — Uneasy
Slumbers. — Commencement of the second Day's Fight. — The
Confederates unable to contend with the Odds against them. — A lost
Opportunity. — The Confederates defeated, and compelled to retire
from the Field. — I remain in the Woods near the Battle-field all
Night.
ORT
DONELSON
was to be avenged. After the capture of that
position, the Federals had swept in triumph through Tennessee, the
Confederates having been compelled to abandon their lines
in that state and in Kentucky, and to seek a new base of operations
farther south. The Federals were now concentrating in great force at
Pittsburg Landing, on the Tennessee River, their immediate object of
attack evidently being Corinth, and General Albert Sydney Johnston,
who was in command of the entire Confederate army, resolved
upon striking a vigorous blow at once, with a view of turning
the tide of victory in our favor before the enemy were assembled
in such strength as to make it imperative for us to act
upon the defensive, and to fight behind our intrenchments. The
experiences of more than one well-fought field had shown how
well nigh irresistible the Confederate soldiers were in making
an attack, and the general knew that it would be necessary for
him to be the assailant, if he expected to get all the work out of
his men they were able to do.
The reports which we received from our scouts, and from
the country people, indicated either that the Federals were
unaware of the strength of the Confederates in their immediate
neighborhood, or else that, flushed with victory, they were
over-confident, and were taking comparatively few precautions
against a surprise. These things were the common talk of the
Confederates for days before the battle took place; and while
not a little astonishment was expressed at the temerity of the
enemy, considerable jubilation was felt at the idea of our being
able to gain a comparatively easy victory, which would put an
end to the invasion, or at least so stagger the Federals, that
subsequent operations against them would be unattended with
any great difficulties.
A Surprise In Preparation.
We all knew that a surprise was to be attempted, and all felt
confident of its success, although some hard fighting was
expected before the rout of the Federals could be achieved.
Hard fighting, however, was something from which the
Confederate soldiers did not shrink at any time, and on this
occasion every one was anxious to repair the disaster of Fort
Donelson, and to teach the enemy a lesson they would not be
likely to forget in a hurry.
At the prospect of a battle, and especially of a battle in
which the chances of winning a brilliant victory would be on
the side of the Confederates, I was as eager to participate,
notwithstanding the severity of my recent experiences, as I
was the first time I faced the enemy. If I thought of Fort
Donelson, and the retreat of Johnston's army after the fall of
that position, it was only with a desire to be revenged for the
sufferings my brave comrades and myself had endured, and
my thoughts rather turned to Bull Run and Ball's Bluff, where
Southern valor had so signally displayed itself, and where I had
assisted in defeating the enemy, and in sending them flying, a
routed and panic-stricken mob, from the field.
My love for such excitement as only a great battle can give, too,
overpowered all lesser emotions, and my mortification at the
indignities I had endured at the hands of Mayor Monroe and his
satellites in New Orleans, was overcome by the thought that,
notwithstanding the fact that I was a woman, I was as good a soldier
as any man around me, and as willing as any to fight valiantly and to
the bitter end before yielding. The fighting blood of my ancestor, old
Governor Don Diego, was making itself felt in my veins as I prepared to
follow Hardee's corps to the scene of action with all possible
expedition.
Off For The Field.
Obtaining a pass from the provost marshal, I put my tent in an army
wagon, and then Bob and I mounted our horses and started for the
field, on Saturday, April 5, 1862. The roads were in a horrible
condition from the heavy spring rains, and we made rather slow
progress, — much too slow for my impatient spirit, — and I was very
tired when, at nightfall, I reached a village of half a dozen scattered
houses called Monterey, about half way between Corinth and Shiloh
Church, a little Methodist meeting-house, just outside the Federal
picket lines.
It was necessary for me to halt here until morning; so, obtaining
sufficient forage for my horse from a Mississippi regiment, I prepared
to camp for the night, and hoped to get a sound sleep, to fit me for the
hot work of the next day.
The Night Before The Battle Of Shiloh.
My animals having been fed, I took off the saddles, and raking up a
quantity of leaves, arranged my bed by spreading a saddle blanket to
lie upon, and placing a saddle for a pillow. Then throwing myself on
this extemporized couch, I wrapped myself in an army blanket, and
was soon lost in slumber as profound as would have visited me had
my accommodations been of the most luxurious description.
I was not destined, however, to have a quiet, uninterrupted
slumber, such as I needed, for ere long I was awakened by the rain,
which began to fall in torrents, and which compelled me to seek some
more sheltered spot in which to finish the night. My first care was for
my horse, and covering him well with the blanket, I went as fast
as I could to one of the deserted
houses of the village, and stopped there until the rain was over.
It was quite three o'clock before the shower ceased, and it was high
time for me to be moving if I expected to take part in the opening of
the battle, as I was exceedingly anxious to do. I therefore ordered the
horses to be saddled, and was in a few moments ready to start. A
soldier very generously offered me a cup of army coffee, which,
although perhaps it was not quite equal in strength and flavor to
some I had tasted in the best hotels, was swallowed with great relish,
and with many benedictions on the giver, whose courtesy I rewarded
by a good-sized drink of brandy, from a flask I carried for the benefit
of my friends. His eyes fairly sparkled with delight as he gulped it
down, and he smacked his lips as if he had not had such a treat for
many a day. Then mounting my horse, I set off at a smart pace for
General Hardee's headquarters.
I found the general stationed near Shiloh Church, and rode up and
saluted him just as he was mounting his horse. Showing him my pass,
I said that I wanted to have a hand in this affair. Hardee looked at the
pass, and replied, "All right; fall in, and we'll see what can be done
for you."
Commencement Of The Fight.
The fighting had already commenced between the skirmish lines of
the two armies while I was conversing with the general, and the
troops were hurrying forward to attack the Federals before they
could gain time to prepare themselves for an effective resistance.
In obedience to Hardee's command, I fell in with his men, and we
advanced briskly upon the enemy's camp. It was a complete surprise
in every respect. Many of the enemy were only half dressed, and were
obliged to snatch up the first weapons that came to hand as the
Confederates rushed out of the woods upon them. The contest was
brief and decisive, and in a few moments such of the enemy as
escaped the deadly volleys which we poured into them were
scampering away as fast as their legs could carry them. We took
possession of their camp, with all its equipage, almost without
resistance, and I thought that this was an excellent good beginning of
the day's work, especially as I had the pleasure of eating a capital hot
breakfast, which had been prepared for some Federal
officer. I enjoyed it immensely, for I was decidedly hungry
after my early morning march, the cup of coffee tendered by
my soldier friend not having proved as satisfactory as something
more substantial might have done.
I had scarcely finished eating when I came across
General Hardee again. He was in a high good humor at the
course events had taken thus far, and said to me, in a jocular
sort of way; "Well, lieutenant, what can I do for you?"
I replied that I was anxious to do my share of the fighting,
and wanted to be stationed where there was plenty of work to
be done.
The general laughed a little at my enthusiasm, but just then
his attention was called away for a moment, and I, glancing
down the line, spied the Arkansas boys whom I had enlisted at
Hurlburt Station nearly a year before. I was immediately
seized with a desire to go into the fight with them; so I said,
"Ah, there is my old company, general; with your permission, I
will see the captain. Perhaps he can give me a chance."
I Rejoin My Arkansas Boys.
Hardee nodded an assent, and, giving him a salute, I started
off at full speed to the rear, where I got my commission out
of my pocket, and then darted along the line, closely followed
by Bob, my idea being to avoid being stopped by giving the
impression that I was bearing an order from the general.
Dismounting from my horse, I forced my way through the
ranks until I reached Captain De Caulp, who shook me heartily
by the hand, and was evidently delighted to see me, as we had
not met since I parted from him in Pensacola the previous
June, when starting for Richmond. My pleasure at the
interview, especially at meeting him again under such
circumstances as those I am describing, was of a very
different and much more intense kind than his, for reasons that
will appear hereafter.
It was no time then, however, to exchange compliments,
for there was hot work before us if the brilliant successes of
the first assaults upon the Federal position were to be followed
up to a satisfactory issue. I therefore told Captain De Caulp
that I was anxious to have a hand in the fight, and especially to
go into the thing with this company, if it could be permitted, and
asked him if he could not assign me to some duty. I spoke in
such a way, and in a sufficiently loud tone for the
other officers and the men to understand that I belonged to the
special corps, and was doing a share of the fighting just for the
love of the thing. Some of them evidently did not know who I
was, and were inclined to regard me as an intruder; for I
heard a soldier behind me say, "What little dandy is that?"
Some one replied, "Why, don't you know? That's the fellow
that raised the company," — a bit of information that
undoubtedly raised me immensely in the estimation of the
interrogator, as well as in that of others who had joined the
company since I had left it.
Among Old Friends.
Notwithstanding the number of strange faces that met my
eyes as I glanced along the ranks, I saw enough old
acquaintances to make me feel very much at home, and I was
delighted beyond measure in an opportunity to take part in a
great battle along with my own company that I had raised over
in the Arkansas swamp, that I had marched through New
Orleans and Mobile in such gallant style, and that I had so
astonished my late husband by appearing in Pensacola at the
head of, and resolved to prove myself worthy of them, and to
show that, even if I was a little dandy, I was as good a soldier
as the best of them when any hard fighting was to be done.
Indeed, all the circumstances were such as to inspire me to
distinguish myself by some unusually gallant action, and I
resolved that, if it were possible to do so, the occasion should
be made a memorable one for us all.
Captain De Caulp told me to remain with him, and to wait
and see what would happen for my advantage; for as some
desperate fighting was yet to be done, there would very
probably be some need of my services before the battle was
over. In the mean time, and until there was a special call upon
me, I could fight on my own hook, or act as a sort of aid to
him. He then sent his orderly to the rear with the boy Bob and
the horses, with directions to conduct them to the camp.
Glancing over the field, I saw the eleventh Louisiana
regiment, with a friend of mine, and a brave officer, Colonel
Sam. Marks, at its head, going for the enemy in gallant style,
and in a short time the order came for us to advance. I was
all oak, as the boys would say, and there was not upon the
whole field a prouder or more determined upholder of the
fortunes of the Confederacy, or one who was more bent upon
retrieving past disasters, and of inflicting upon the Federals a
blow from which they would not be able to recover, than
myself. I considered it a rare piece of good fortune that I was
able to take part in what all hoped and expected would be a
decisive battle with my own company, — as fine a body of men
as were in the field, — and there were special reasons for
feelings of jubilation at the idea of being permitted to fight by
the side of Captain De Caulp.
The Secret Out.
The secret might as well be told now as at any other time,
I suppose; so the reader will please know that Captain De
Caulp and I were under an engagement of marriage, having
been in correspondence with each other since my departure
from Pensacola. I had his letters in my breast pocket, and his
photograph in the lining of my coat, while, I doubt not, that he
had about him memorials of my unworthy self; and if he cared
as much for me as I was led to believe he did by the fervency
of his epistles, I was the especial object of his thoughts when,
in obedience to the command to advance, we dashed at the
enemy. He little suspected, however, that the woman to whom
his heart and hand were pledged was by his side as he led his
men into that bloody fray; for, as I have before explained, he
had an acquaintance with me both as a woman and as a man,
but did not know that the two were the same.
An Inspiring Situation.
The situation was a singularly inspiring one for me, as may
readily be imagined; it was, in fact, such a situation as I doubt
whether any woman had ever been placed in before; and yet it
seemed the most natural thing in the world that I should be
there, and that I should try to distinguish myself by deeds of
valor, for the sake of winning the approving smile of the man
who, of all others, I was anxious should give me his approbation.
It may be thought that, even if I felt no fear for myself, as a
woman I should have had some tremors when beholding my
lover advancing into the thick of a desperate fight, at the head
of his men. The idea of fear, either on his or on my own
account, however, never occurred to me at the time,
although, on reflecting over the matter afterwards, it struck me
that some slight emotion of that kind would perhaps have been
proper under the circumstances. We cannot think of everything
at once, however; and just at that time I was intent only on
defeating the enemy before me, and proving myself a good
fighter in the eyes of Captain De Caulp and his command. As
for him, I desired for his sake, even more ardently than on
my own account, that the occasion should be a glorious one,
and I had a strange delight in following him into the thickest of
the mêlée, and in watching with what undaunted spirit he bore
himself throughout the long and sternly-fought battle.
We had not been long engaged before the second lieutenant of the
company fell. I immediately stepped into his place, and assumed the
command of his men. This action was greeted by a hearty cheer from the
entire company, all the veterans of which, of course, knew me, and I
took the greeting as an evidence that they were glad to see their
original commander with them once more, and evidently anxious to do
a full share of the heavy job of work that was to be done
before the field could be ours. This cheer from the men was
an immense inspiration to me; and the knowledge that not my
lover only, but the company which I had myself recruited, and
thousands of others of the brave boys of our Southern army
were watching my actions approvingly, encouraged me to dare
everything, and to shrink from nothing to render myself
deserving of their praises.
A Furious Assault.
Our assaults upon the enemy were made with irresistible fury, and we
rushed through their lines, literally mowing them down like grain
before the mowing machine. It was grander fighting than I had ever
witnessed before, surpassing even the great sortie at Fort Donelson in
desperateness and inspirational qualities. The bullets whistled
through the air thick and fast, cutting the trees, and making
the branches snap and fly, splintering the fence rails, striking
the wagons, or sending some poor soldier suddenly to the earth.
A corporal who was by my side was shot through the heart by
a Minie ball. He fell heavily against me, and all my clothing
was reddened by his blood. His only words were, "Damn the
Yankees! they have killed me." He was a very handsome
young man, only about twenty-two years of age, and his
death perfectly infuriated me, as it did his other comrades.
The Federals never succeeded in recovering from the surprise of the
morning; and although they stood their ground most stubbornly in some
places, their entire line was gradually driven back towards the Landing,
and each succeeding hour of the fight made their total defeat more of a
certainty than ever.
General Albert Sydney Johnston Killed.
Shortly before three o'clock in the afternoon, our
commander-in-chief, General Albert Sydney Johnston, was
numbered among the slain. His death, however, was carefully
concealed from the army, and was known to but few until the
battle was over. He was a great soldier, and his loss was an
irreparable one; for had he lived to superintend the conduct of
the battle to the end, it is scarcely possible that he would have
failed to push his advantages to the utmost, or that he would
have committed the mistakes which turned a brilliant and
decisive victory into an overwhelming and most maddening defeat.
Close Of The First Day's Battle.
When the sun set that day the Confederates were successful
at every point, and although they had suffered terribly, they had
forced the enemy's lines back almost to the Landing, so that there
was nothing now left them to do but to make a final successful stand,
or else be crowded over the bluffs into the river, just as I had seen
them crowded, six months before, at Ball's Bluff. That they could have
made a final effective resistance, had the Confederates finished the
day's work in the spirit they had begun it, was scarcely within the
range of possibility; and I confidently expected, as the daylight
declined in the sky, to witness a repetition, on a larger scale, of all
the horrors of the Ball's Bluff battle. There was absolutely no
escape for the Federals; and their only hope was to hold their last
rallying ground, and to gain time until the arrival of re-enforcements,
which would enable them to recover their lost ground, and to assume the
offensive against our victorious, but worn and shattered army. Why the
Confederate advantages were not pushed that night, before
General Buell could arrive with his fresh troops, and the
Federal army either captured or annihilated, as it assuredly
would have been, was a mystery to me then, and is now.
During the afternoon, I succeeded in gaining a good deal of
very important information from several prisoners, and particularly
from a sergeant belonging to the twenty-seventh Illinois regiment. I
did this by inducing him to believe that I was only in the Confederate
army under compulsion, and that I intended to desert at the first
opportunity. I got out of him pretty much everything he knew about the
Federal situation, who the different commanders were, and even how the
forces were posted; and, in full confidence that all I told him was the
literal truth, he took out his diary and wrote a short note to his
colonel, which he intrusted to me to deliver for him. From this
prisoner I learned how desperate were the straits of the enemy,
and how anxiously they were awaiting the arrival of Buell with
re-enforcements, and I was, consequently, in despair, for I saw
our brilliant victory already slipping from us, when General
Beauregard, who had succeeded to the command after the
death of Johnston, issued the order from his headquarters at the
little Shiloh church, for us to halt in our advance, and to sleep
on our arms all night, instead of pursuing the routed enemy, and
compelling them either to surrender or to take to the river, as
we compelled them to do at Ball's Bluff.
A Fatal Mistake.
When I heard Beauregard's order, I felt that a fatal mistake
was being committed; and, in utter desperation at the very
thought of losing on the morrow all that we had gained by the
most determined and desperate fighting through that long and
bloody day, I could not resist the temptation of making an
effort to find out for myself exactly what the situation within
the enemy's lines really was, and was willing to run all the risks
of being caught and shot as a spy, rather than to endure the
suspense of a long night of uncertainty.
My station was with the advanced picket line, I having
persuaded the captain to post me in a manner most favorable
for carrying out my designs. I did not dare to tell him all I
proposed to do, for fear that he would consider it his duty to
prevent me, but gave him to understand that I intended, under
cover of the darkness, to creep up as close as I could, with
safety, to the Federal lines, with a view of trying to find out
something concerning their movements. He hesitated
somewhat at even permitting me to do this much without the
knowledge of the colonel, but finally gave a tacit consent. I
also refrained from telling my full design to my immediate
companion of the picket station, and made up a story about my
intentions, which I thought would keep him quiet, and also
promised to give him a drink of good whiskey when I got back
if he would mind his own business and not attempt to
interfere with me.
I Make A Reconnoissance.
I accordingly stole away, and creeping as noiselessly as I
possibly could through the underbrush, approached the
Landing. The command of General Wallace was stationed at
this end of the Federal line, and I had a good deal of trouble to
get past his pickets, being compelled to pause very frequently,
and to keep close to the ground, watching favorable
opportunities for advancing from one point to another. I finally,
however, did manage to get past them, and gained a tolerably
good point of observation near the river, where I could see
quite plainly what was going on at the Landing.
It was just as I had anticipated. The Federals were crowding
about the Landing in utter disorder, and were without any
means of crossing the river. They were completely in a trap,
and so evidently keenly appreciated the fact, that the capture
of the entire army ought to have been an easy matter. One
more grand charge along the entire line, in the same brilliant
fashion that we had opened the battle, and every officer and
man on this side of the river would either have been slain or
taken prisoner, while we would have gained possession of the
Landing, and have prevented any of the expected re-enforcements
from crossing.
Beauregard's Mistake.
At this moment, I felt that if I could only command our army
for two good hours I would be willing to die the moment the
victory was won, while it maddened me to think that our
commander should have permitted such an opportunity for
inflicting a perfectly crushing defeat on the enemy to pass by
unimproved. Beauregard, certainly, could not have understood
the situation, or he would inevitably have pursued his advantage;
and yet I could not understand how he could help knowing, not only that
the Federals were in desperate straits, but that fresh troops were
hurrying to their assistance, and that in the morning the battle would,
assuredly, be resumed with the odds all in their favor.
Arrival Of Federal Re-Enforcements.
While I was watching and chafing under the blunder
that I was sure had been committed, a steamboat with re-enforcements
arrived at the Landing. These fresh troops were immediately formed, and
despatched to the front. Another detachment came, before I withdrew,
overwhelmed with grief and disgust at the idea of our victory coming to
nothing, simply because there was not the requisite energy at
headquarters to strike the final blow that was needed, in order that our
hard fighting might have its proper reward.
There was, evidently, somebody on the Federal side who was bent on
retrieving the disaster; for the hurried movements of the new troops,
and the constant firing which the two gunboats — Tyler and Lexington
— kept up, indicated an aggressiveness that augured unfavorable for
our tired and badly cut up army when the fight should re-open in the
morning. The two gunboats had moved up to the mouth of Lick Creek, and
about dark commenced throwing shells into our lines in a manner that was
anything but agreeable, and that demoralized our men more than any kind
of attack they had been compelled to stand up under. I had been under
musketry and artillery fire a number of times, and did not find the
sharp hiss of the bullets, or the scream of the shells, particularly
pleasant. There was something horrible, however, about the huge missiles
hurled by the gunboats, and they excited far more disagreeable
sensations than either musket or rifle bullets, or the favors which the
field artillerists were in the habit of bestowing. These shells could
easily be seen in the air for some seconds, and each individual that
beheld them had an uncomfortable feeling that they were aiming directly
at him, with a strong probability of striking. Sometimes they burst in
the air, scattering in every direction; oftener they burst just as
they struck, and the pieces inflicted ugly wounds if they happened to
hit anybody, and occasionally they would bury themselves in the ground,
and then explode, tearing holes large enough to bury a cart and horse in.
There was something almost comical in the way the soldiers,
who had fought, without flinching, for hours in the face of a
terrific artillery and musketry fire, attempted to dodge these
shells. The hideous screams uttered by them, just before
striking, seeming to drive all the courage out of the hearts of
those against whom they were directed. Facing this kind of
attack, without being able in any way to reply to it, was much
more trying than the toughest fighting; and the rapidity with
which the gunners on board the boats kept up their fire about
dusk, undoubtedly had a great effect in checking the
Confederate's advance, and in saving the badly-beaten Federal
army from utter rout.
During the whole of the night the Tyler and Lexington threw
their shells steadily, and at frequent intervals, in the direction of
our army; but now that the fighting was over, and our men
were trying to rest for the work of the morrow, it was
comparatively easy to keep out of their way, and they
consequently did not do much damage. A heavy rain storm, in
the middle of the night, had much more to do with making the
situation an unpleasant one than the firing from the gunboats, as
it drenched every one to the skin, and seriously disturbed the
slumbers of the wearied soldiers.
General Grant's Peril.
While surveying, from my post of observation in the bushes,
the movements of the routed Federal troops at the Landing, a
small boat, with two officers in it, passed up the river. As it
drew near the place where I was concealed, I recognized
one of the officers as General Grant, and the other one I knew
by his uniform to be a general. Grant I had seen at Fort
Donelson, and I had met with pictures of him in some of the
illustrated papers, so that I had no trouble in knowing him in
spite of the darkness. The boat passed so close to me that I
could occasionally catch a word or two of the conversation that
was passing between the Federal commander and his
associate, although, owing to the splashing of the oars, and the
other noises, I could not detect what they were talking about.
My heart began to beat violently when I saw Grant, and my
hand instinctively grasped my revolver. Both he, and the officer
with him, were completely at my mercy, for they were
within easy pistol shot, and my first impulse was to kill them,
and run the risk of all possible consequences to myself. I did
even go so far as to take a good aim, and in a second more,
had I been a little firmer-nerved, the great Federal general, and
the future President of the United States, would have finished
his career.
It was too much like murder, however, and I could not
bring myself to do the deed, although it would have been as
justifiable as any killing that takes place in warfare. Any soldier,
however, will appreciate my feelings; for those who are
bravest, when standing face to face with the enemy, will
hesitate to take deliberate aim at a single man from an ambush.
I therefore permitted Grant to escape, although I knew it was
better for my cause to slay him than would be the loss of many
hundreds less important soldiers. Indeed, had Grant fallen
before my pistol, the great battle of Shiloh might have had a far
different termination; for his loss would have so completed the
demoralization of the Federals, that another rally would, in all
probability, have been an impossibility. To have shot him, as I at
first intended to do, would almost certainly have insured my
own destruction; for large numbers of the Federals were so
near me that I could plainly hear them talking, and escape
would have been almost out of the question. I would, however,
have been willing to have made a sacrifice of myself, had I not
been influenced in the course I did by other considerations than
those of prudence. At any rate, I permitted my opportunity to
slip by unimproved, and ere a great many moments the boat
and its occupants were out of my reach, and I saw the two
generals go on board one of the gunboats.
After I got back to my camp I could not help thinking that I
had committed an error; but on reflecting over the matter in
cooler moments, I was not sorry that I had resisted the
temptation to pull the trigger when I had my finger on it. If I
had fired, what would have been the consequences, so far as
the results of the war were concerned? The Federals would
have lost their ablest general, almost at the beginning of his
career. Would they have found another man who would have
commanded their armies with the brilliant success that Grant
did? These are momentous questions, when we think of the
events that have occurred since the battle of Shiloh. Much more
than the life of a single man was probably dependent upon
whether I concluded to fire or not, as I pointed my pistol at the
men in the boat that April night.
After the boat had passed by, I was strongly tempted to go
to the Federal camp and announce myself as a deserter,
taking my chances of being able to get back again, or, at least,
to give the slip before many hours, should my sincerity be
suspected, and a close watch be put over me. This, however, I
thought rather too risky a proceeding, under all the
circumstances, and therefore concluded to get back to my
post again. I succeeded in doing this, although not without
considerable difficulty; and not caring to let my comrade know
all that I had seen and thought, I told him that my errand had
been an unsuccessful one, as I had not been able to get near
enough to the Federal lines to discover anything of
importance. To insure his keeping quiet, I said that I would go
and get him a drink of that whiskey I had promised him, which
made his eyes sparkle with delight, and started off to inform
my captain with regard to what I had found out, and to
ask his advice about what I had better do.
What Had Best Be Done?
Captain De Caulp was seriously perplexed at my report;
but he said that attempting to instruct the general of an army
was a risky business, and the probabilities were, that should I
go to headquarters with my story, I would get into serious
trouble. He further suggested that, perhaps, the general was as
well informed with regard to the movements of the enemy as
myself, if not better, and was making his arrangements
accordingly; all of which did not relieve my mind of its
premonitions of impending disaster, although it convinced me
that, for my own sake, I had better hold my tongue. In spite of
everything, however, it was as much as I could do to refrain
from attempting to let Beauregard know how matters were,
and of running all the risks of his displeasure. I finally came to
the conclusion that the responsibilities were his, and not mine,
and I had no fancy for being put under arrest, and of ruining all
my future prospects by going through with my New Orleans
experiences again, under circumstances that would almost
inevitably expose me to indignities worse even than those I
had suffered at the hands of his honor Mayor Monroe.
I accordingly reluctantly concluded to wait and see what the
result of the next day's battle would be, declaring
energetically to Captain De Caulp, that if we were defeated, I
would never raise my sword in the army of Tennessee again.
I knew that there would be some hot work in the morning, whatever
the final result of the battle might be, and felt the necessity of
getting what rest I could, if I was to do a soldier's whole duty.
Wrapping myself in my blanket, therefore, I threw myself upon
the ground, and tried to sleep; but I was so agitated and
apprehensive for the morrow, that slumber was an impossibility.
Again and again as I tossed about, unable to close
my eyes, I more than half repented of my resolution not to
report the result of my spying expedition at headquarters;
but being convinced not only of the inutility, but the danger to
myself, of such a proceeding, refrained from doing so. Several
times I fell into an uneasy doze, but the sound and refreshing
slumbers that I so sorely needed would not visit my weary
eyelids, and daybreak found me as wide awake as ever, but
certainly not fit to endure the fatigues and perils of a fierce
battle in such a manner as to do myself any credit. I resolved,
however, although I felt that we were rushing on defeat, to
face every danger, and endure every trial with the bravest and
most enduring of my comrades, so long as the slightest hope
of success remained, and if finally defeat seemed
inevitable, to make off with what speed I could for the
purpose of trying my luck in some other quarter.
Commencement Of The Second Day's Battle.
At daylight the gunboats began to fire more rapidly
than they had been doing during the night, and with such
admirable execution that a prompt attack upon the part of
the Confederates was rendered impossible. The second
day of the battle, therefore, opened favorably for the
Federals, and we lost the advantage we might have gained
by assuming the offensive, and hurling our forces on the
enemy, with that elan for which our Southern soldiers
were famous, and which had served them so well on many
important occasions. The opportunity thus lost was never
regained; for although the fortunes of the fight seemed
to waver, it was easily to be seen that victory was no
longer with the Confederates, and that the grievous
mistake of the night before, in not promptly following up
our success, and finishing our work then and there, would
have all the terrible consequences I had feared.
The Federal general, Nelson, formed his troops in line of
battle on our extreme left, and threw out his skirmishers for
over a mile. Our whole force was soon engaged; but the
Federals steadily advanced, and we were compelled to retire
before them, our worn and exhausted men fighting
desperately as they went. About ten o'clock we succeeded in
making the cover of a woods, which enabled us to rally with
effect, and our forces were hurled against the enemy with such
fury, that they began to retreat in disorder; but, being supported
by re-enforcements, they were ultimately able to hold their
ground.
About this time a heavy cannonading commenced, and the
battle began to assume the phase of an artillery duel. On our
side, Terril's battery did excellent service, and succeeded in
holding the enemy at bay, giving the infantry a breathing spell
that they sorely needed. For more than two hours the artillery
and musketry fire continued at short range; and the
Confederates kept up to their work in such gallant style, that
the enemy wavered again, and one grand charge might have
routed them. Before such a charge could be made, however,
heavy re-enforcements arrived, under the command of General
Buell, as I understood; and these fresh troops, formed by
brigades, attacked us at double-quick, and drove us back half a
mile, breaking our lines, and throwing us into inextricable
confusion.
Defeat.
By two o'clock, the whole of this part of the field was cleared, and
the battle was practically lost to the Confederates, although the
fighting was obstinately continued elsewhere for an hour or two longer.
All my worst anticipations had come true; and the Federal
army, which was almost annihilated the night before, had not
only saved itself; and recovered its lost ground, but it had
inflicted upon the Confederates a most disastrous defeat. This
was the only name for it, for we were worse beaten than the
Federals were at Bull Run; and the fact that we were not
pursued on our retreat, only proved that the Federal
commanders, like our own at Bull Run, were either incapable
of appreciating the importance of vigorous action under such
circumstances, or were unable to follow up their advantages.
When I saw clearly that the day was lost, I determined to
leave the field, and half resolved that if I succeeded in getting
well away from our beaten army, I would give the whole thing
up, and never strike another blow for the Confederacy as
a soldier. I was scarcely able to contain myself for rage, not at
the defeat, but at the inexcusable blunder that caused it; and
was worked up to such a pitch, that I felt willing to die, as if
there was nothing now worth living for. The Fort Donelson
disaster, which I had hoped would be retrieved, had now been
followed by another even more terrible; and the success of the
Confederate cause was more remote, and more uncertain, than
ever. It made me gnash my teeth with impotent fury to think of
these things, and to have all my high hopes so suddenly
dashed to the ground, just when the prospects for their
realization seemed so bright.
A Valuable Prize.
About five o'clock I found my boy near the hospital. He
had my horse, and another fine animal that he had picked up. In
reply to my query, Bob said that he had found him in the woods
without a rider. He was branded "U. S," and had an officer's
saddle on; and as he seemed, from outside appearances, to be
superior to my own steed, I concluded to take possession of
him. Mounting him, I tried him over a fence, and a large log,
which he cleared like an antelope; so deeming him a prize
worth securing, I turned over my own horse to Bob, and started
him off on the road to Corinth. The boy, however, mistook the
road, and went plump into the Federal camp at Purdy, thus
depriving me of his valuable services.
As for me, I remained in the woods all night, the roads being
perfectly blocked up with the retreating army, trying to shield
myself as best I could from the furious storm of rain and hail
that came on, as if to add to the miseries which the wretched
soldiers of the Confederacy were compelled to endure on their
weary march back to Corinth. Although I had escaped from the
two days' fighting unhurt, I was so utterly worn out and
wretched, that I really did not care a great deal what became
of me, and was almost as willing to be taken prisoner by the
Federals as to return to Corinth, with a view of again
undertaking to exert myself in what was now beginning to
appear the hopeless cause of Southern independence. I
managed, however, after the worst of the storm was over, to
find a tolerably dry place, where, completely used up by the
fatigues I had undergone, I fell into a sound sleep.
CHAPTER XVIII.
WOUNDED.
The Morning after the Battle of Shiloh. — My Return to Camp. —
A Letter from my Memphis Lady-love. — A sad Case. — My Boy Bob
missing. — I start out to Search for him. — A runaway Horse, and a
long Tramp through the Mud. — Return to the Battle-field. — Horrible
Scenes along the road. — Out on a scouting Expedition. — Burying the
Dead. — I receive a severe Wound. — A long and painful Ride back to
Camp. — My Wound dressed by a Surgeon, and my Sex discovered. — A
Fugitive. — Arrival at Grand Junction. — Crowd of anxious Inquirers.
— Off for New Orleans. — Stoppages at Grenada, Jackson, and Osyka
on Account of my Wound. — The Kindness of Friends. — Fresh Attempt
to reach New Orleans. — Unsatisfactory Appearance of the military
Situation. — The Passage of the Forts by the Federal Fleet. — A new
Field of Employment opened for me. — I resume the Garments of my Sex.
ESTED,
but scarcely refreshed, by a brief slumber on the damp ground,
and with thoughts of the most gloomy description filling my mind, I
mounted my horse at daybreak and started to ride back to Corinth. I was
in rather different spirits from what I was two days before, when,
inspired by brilliant hopes, and full of confidence that with this,
the first great battle of the spring campaign, the disasters of the
winter would be more than repaired, and that our Confederate army
was about to enter upon a career of victory which would, most
likely, long before the ending of the summer, establish our
independence, I had hastened to the field, eager only to be able
to join in the fight in time to have a chance of distinguishing
myself before the Federals should be completely wiped out.
The attack was, indeed, made as brilliantly and as successfully
as I had anticipated that it would be, and at the end of a hard
day's fighting, victory was fairly within our grasp. At the end
of another day, however, we were a broken and disorganized
mass of fugitives, straggling back to our camps, and thinking
ourselves lucky that the Federals were not enterprising
enough to pursue us before we could reach our intrenchments.
There was a hope, indeed, that we would be able to hold
Corinth, and , by inducing the Federals to attack us in our
fortifications, regain something of the advantage we had lost.
The defeat, therefore, bad as it was, was not so desperate an
overthrow as the one at Fort Donelson; but, although I felt this,
and felt that if we could but hold our ground a little while all
might be well, I was so despondent over the way things
seemed to be going, that I had little heart to continue in the
contest any longer. At the same time I was loath to give the
thing up, and could not help reflecting that the true spirit of
heroism required me to bear adversity with fortitude, and to
seek to advance the interests of my cause, no matter how
unpropitious the times might seem.
Reflections After The Battle.
I was more than ever anxious now, however, to enter
upon the line of duty for which I esteemed myself particularly
fitted; for, now that the excitement of the battle-field was
over, and defeat once more compelled reflection, I could not
help thinking that I was doing no very material service by
plunging into the thick of a fight, as much for the enjoyment of
the thing as anything else, whereas I could be worth many
soldiers to the Confederacy if intrusted with certain
duties of equal responsibility and danger, which I could
perform much better than any man. How to obtain an
assignment to this kind of duty, however, was what puzzled me,
and it really almost seemed that a first-rate opportunity of
distinguishing myself as a secret service emissary would never
be offered.
Resolving in my own mind all manner of plans for the future,
but unable to determine what my next move had better be, I
made my way back to camp feeling, as I reflected on my
brilliant expectations of a few days before, as if I were
returning from a fool's errand, although I cannot say that I was
sorry on account of having taken a hand in the fight, for
throughout the two days I had borne myself as gallantly as the
best, while simply as a personal adventure, the battle was a
memorable affair for more reasons than one. It was at least
something for me to have stood by the side of my expected
husband throughout the long and bloody contest, and to have
given him proofs of my valorous disposition, such as he could
scarcely help remembering, with pleasure, in the future, when
he learned that the little independent lieutenant, and the
woman who was engaged as his wife, were one and the same
person. So far, at least, my participation in the battle was a
source of satisfaction to me, although it did not diminish my
distress at so soon again being called upon to witness another
hard-fought field lost to the Confederacy.
A Love Letter.
On arriving at camp I found a mail awaiting me. Among
my letters were some from my friends in the army of Virginia,
and one from my little Memphis lady, which read as follows: —
"Memphis, Tennessee, April 2. 1862.
"My Dear Harry:
Yours was handed to me the next morning by our trusty
and faithful old servant David, and I hastily opened it, knowing it to
be from you by the handwriting. My dear, I am afraid that this will
appear unintelligible, being wet with tears from beginning to end.
When your letter was handed to me we were at breakfast, and grandpa was
reading the "Appeal," wherein it was stated that all officers and
soldiers away from their commands should report for duty. I was afraid
that you would have to go, but some hope remained until your fatal
letter convinced me that my suspicions were too well founded. Alas,
how vain are human expectations! In the morning we dream of happiness,
and before evening are really miserable. I was promising to
myself that one month more would have joined our hands, and
now we are to be separated — yes, perhaps for years, if not
forever; for how do I know but that the next tidings may bring
intelligence of your being killed in battle, and then, farewell to
everything in this world; my prospects of a happy future will
vanish, and although unmarried, I will ever remain the widow
Buford until death.
"And is it possible my dear Harry can doubt for one
moment of my sincerity; or do you think that these affections
can ever be placed on another, which were first fixed upon
your dear self, from a convincing sense of your
accomplishments and merit? No, dear Harry, my fidelity to
you shall remain as unspotted as this paper was before it
was blotted with ink and bedewed with tears. I know not how
others love, but my engagements are for eternity. You
desire me to remind you of your duty. My dear, I know not of
any faults, nor
am I disposed to look for any. I doubt not that the religious
education you have received in your youth will enable you to
resist the strongest temptations, and make that everlasting
honor to the army, Lieutenant Buford, although not afraid to
fight, yet afraid to sin. However terrifying it may be to meet
death in the field, yet it is far more awful to appear before a
just God, whom we have offended by our iniquities. There are
no persons in the world accused more of irreligion than the
military, while from the very nature of their employment none
are more obliged to practise every Christian duty. They see
thousands of their fellow-beings hurried into eternity without a
moment's warning, nor do they know but that the next day they
may themselves meet the same fate. My dear Harry, never be
ashamed of religion; a consciousness of your own integrity will
inspire you with courage in the day of battle, and if you should
at last die in defence of the right in your country's cause, the
Divine favor will be your comfort through eternity. In the mean
time my prayers shall be constantly for your safety and your
preservation in the day of battle, and my earnest hopes will
be fixed upon your happy return.
"I will visit my aunt this fall in Alabama; she being
your friend, will be some consolation to me in your
absence. Let me hear from you as soon as possible, and as
often, and never doubt my fidelity: consider me yours already,
and I am satisfied. I hung your handsome picture opposite to
mine in the drawing-room, over where we used to sit and
chat together. Grandpa says that it does not flatter you, as we
were both lovesick. What ideas the old folks do get into their
heads, just as if they had never loved in their time. I have not
seen the captain since; I think that his command is ordered
away.
"Farewell, dear Harry, and may the wisdom of God direct
you, and His all-wise providence be your guard. This is the
sincere prayer of one who prefers you before all the world.
Grandpa and auntie wish to be remembered to you kindly. I
wrote to brother that you would hand him a letter.
"Your loving intended till death,
"M——."
I give this as a favorable specimen of the love-letters I was
in the habit of receiving during my military career, and I have
the less hesitation in doing so as it is one that no woman need
be ashamed of having written. I could not help laughing a
little as I read it, and yet I felt really sorry for the writer, and
reproached myself for having permitted my flirtation with her
to go to the length it did. The case was a particularly sad one,
for the reason that the man who loved her devotedly, and who
would doubtless in time have succeeded in curing her of her
misplaced affections for the fictitious Lieutenant Buford, was
among the slain at Shiloh. There was no braver soldier
belonging to the Confederate army engaged in that bloody
battle than Phil. Hastings, and his death was doubly a source of
regret to me, as by it I lost a warm-hearted and sincere friend,
and also an opportunity to undo the wrong I had unwittingly
done him through capturing the affections of the girl he loved,
by endeavoring to make matters right between him and her.
At the time of the receipt of this letter, however, I had
something of more pressing importance to think of than
explanations with Miss M. My boy had not put in an
appearance, and suspecting that he must have lost himself, I
started out to search for him; but, although I made diligent
inquiry, I could not obtain any intelligence of him. This vexed
me extremely, for Bob had become an invaluable servant,
being very handy and entirely trustworthy, and I felt that he
would be indispensable to me in the movement I now had more
than half determined to make, with a view of trying to win the
favors of Fortune in a somewhat new field of action.
My Horse Gets Away.
To make matters worse, when about five miles from Corinth
my horse broke from me, and stampeding out of sight, left me
to get back the best way I could. I was now in a pretty fix,
with scarcely any money about me, and with miles of terribly
rough and muddy roads to traverse before I could regain my
quarters. There was nothing, however, to do but to bear up
under my misfortunes as bravely as possible, and so plunging
through the mud, I tried to make my way back to Corinth with
what rapidity I could.
The first camp I made was that of the eleventh Louisiana
regiment, in which I had a number of friends. The Louisiana
boys imagined that I had just come from Memphis, and they
gave me a very hearty welcome, although they were not
feeling particularly good over the result of the battle. Obtaining
a horse from the quartermaster, I started back to the battle-field
field in company with Captain G. Merrick Miller, who desired
to bury the dead of his company.
The Battle-Field Revisited.
The road was lined with stragglers, many of them suffering
from severe wounds, who were slowly making their way back
to their respective camps, and as we reached the scene of the
late action the most ghastly sight met our eyes. The ground was
thickly strewn with dead men and horses, arms and accoutrements
were scattered about in every direction, wagons were
stuck in the mud and abandoned, and other abundant evidences
of the sanguinary nature of the conflict were perceptible to our
eyes. I could face the deadliest fire without flinching, but I
could not bear to look at these things, and so, after having made
a number of vain inquiries for Bob, I rode back to camp, and
said good-by to my Louisiana friends, leaving them under the
impression that I intended to take the train.
This I probably might have done had I not fallen in with
some cavalry who were about starting out on scouting duty,
and been tempted to accompany them. This was the kind of
work that I had a particular liking for; and as I had no definite
plan for the immediate future arranged, and was desirous of
finding Bob before leaving Corinth or its neighborhood, I
concluded to try whether a little cavalry service would not be
productive of some adventure worth participating in. An
adventure of importance in its influence on my future career,
sure enough, it did bring me, although it was not exactly what I
anticipated or desired.
Burying The Dead.
It was about dark when we set out, and we spent the night
hovering about in the neighborhood of the enemy, but without
anything noteworthy occurring. The next day we had a little
brush with a party of Federals, and after the exchange of a few
shots were compelled to retreat. After this, we came across
some dead men belonging to the tenth Tennessee regiment in the
woods. Carefully removing the bodies to a field near by, we put
them in a potato bin, and with a hoe, which was the only
implement we could find suited to our purpose, we covered
them, as well as we were able, with earth.
While engaged in this melancholy duty, the enemy were
occasionally firing shells in different directions, apparently
feeling for us. We paid no special attention to them, as the
Federals seemed to be firing at random, and, so far as we
could judge, did not notice our party. Soon, however, a shrapnel
burst in our midst, killing a young fellow instantly, and
wounding me severely in the arm and shoulder.
I Am Severely Wounded.
I was thrown to the ground, and stunned with the suddenness of the
thing. One of the soldiers picked me up, and stood me on my feet,
saying, "Are you hurt?"
"No, not bad," I replied, in a vague sort of way, but my
whole system was terribly shocked, and I felt deathly sick.
Before a great many moments, however, I perfectly recovered
my consciousness, and by a resolute effort of will, endeavored
to bear up bravely. I found, however, that I was unable to use
my right arm, and soon the wound began to pain me terribly.
The soldier who had picked me up, seeing that I was too
badly hurt to help myself, lifted me on my horse, and started
back to camp with me. It was a long ride, of nearly fifteen
miles, and I thought that it would never come to an end.
Every moment the pain increased in intensity, and if my horse
jolted or stumbled a little, I experienced the most excruciating
agony. My fortitude began to give way before the terrible
physical suffering I was compelled to endure; all my manliness
oozed out long before I reached camp, and my woman's nature
asserted itself with irresistible force. I could face deadly peril
on the battle-field without flinching, but this intolerable pain
overcame me completely, and I longed to be where there would
be no necessity for continuing my disguise, and where I could
obtain shelter, rest, and attention as a woman. My pride,
however, and a fear of consequences, prevented me from
revealing my sex, and I determined to preserve my secret as
long as it was possible to do so, hoping soon to reach some
place where I could be myself again with impunity.
By the time we reached camp my hand and arm were so
much swollen, that my conductor found it necessary to rip the
sleeve of my coat in order to get at the wound for the
purpose of bathing it in cold water. The application of the water
was a slight relief, but the hurt was too serious a one for such
treatment to be of permanent service, so an ambulance was
procured, and I was taken to the railroad and put on the train
bound South. The cars stopped at Corinth for two hours, and,
feeling the necessity for some medical attendance as soon as
possible, I sent for a young surgeon whom I knew intimately,
and telling him that I was wounded severely, asked him to try
and do something to relieve my suffering.
My Sex Discovered.
He immediately examined my arm, and, as I perceived by
the puzzled expression that passed over his face, he was
beginning to suspect something, and guessing that further
concealment would be useless, I told him who I really was. I
never saw a more astonished man in my life. The idea of a
woman engaging in such an adventure, and receiving such an
ugly hurt, appeared to shock him extremely, and he declared
that he would not take the responsibility of performing an
operation, but would send for Dr. S. This frightened me, for I
had witnessed some specimens of that surgeon's method
of dealing with wounded soldiers, and I insisted that he was too
barbarous, and that he should not touch me. He then proposed
to send for Dr. H., but I objected to this also, and finally, at my
urgent solicitation, he consented to make a careful examination
himself, and try what he could do.
My shoulder was found to be out of place, my arm cut, and
my little finger lacerated — a disagreeable and exceedingly
painful, but not necessarily a very dangerous wound. The
surgeon applied a dressing, and put my arm in a sling, after
which I felt a great deal more comfortable, although the pain
was still intense; and he then endeavored to induce me to stop
at Corinth until I was in better condition for travelling. Now,
however, that my sex was discovered, I was more than ever
anxious to get away from my old associates, in the hope of
finding some place where I could remain until I got well, and
able to commence operations again in a different locality,
without being annoyed by the attentions of impertinently
curious people. I therefore insisted upon pushing on to
Grenada, and he, finding that argument was useless, and,
perhaps, appreciating my reasons for getting away as soon as
possible, very kindly went and procured transportation papers
for me, and before the information that a woman, disguised as
an officer, was among the wounded on the train, we were, to
my infinite satisfaction, speeding out of sight, leaving behind us
the camp occupied by a defeated army. The thought that
our brave army should be resting under the cloud of a most
humiliating defeat was a mental torture, which even my
intense physical suffering could not pacify, and I was heartily
glad to be able to take myself off from a locality which had so
many unpleasant associations.
While on the train I suffered a great deal, although I was as
well cared for as circumstances would permit, and it was an
immense relief when we reached Grand Junction, for the
hotel proprietor there was an old and true friend of mine, and
I felt sure of receiving from him all the attention it was in his
power to bestow. I found, however, that it was almost an
impossibility to get any accommodation whatever, on account
of the crowds of people who filled the place. The wives and
other relatives of officers and soldiers had come to await the
result of the battle; and as the news that the Confederate
army had been defeated had preceded me, every thing was in
confusion, and everybody plunged in the deepest grief.
Waiting For The Loved Ones.
Some of the waiting ones had already received their
wounded friends, or the corpses of the slain, while others were
nearly wild with anxiety on account of husbands, or brothers,
or lovers who had not yet been heard from. Alas! many of
them were being stretched, stark and stiff, on the bloody field
at Shiloh, where they had bravely fought for the cause they
loved.
I was asked a thousand questions about the battle, and was
pressed with a thousand anxious interrogatories about particular
persons, and endeavored to answer as well as I could,
notwithstanding the pain which my wounded arm and shoulder
caused. Many of the women could not prevail upon themselves to
believe that the Confederate army had been again
defeated, and indulged in the fiercest invectives against the
invaders. The intense grief of these stricken people affected
me even more than the terrible scenes incident to the battle
and the retreat, and, as I was not in a fit condition to endure
anything more of anguish, and as it seemed to be impossible
to obtain a room where I could be quiet and free from intrusion,
I determined to push on to Grenada, without more delay,
although I was anything but able to endure the excitement
and discomfort of several hours' ride by rail.
Having reached Grenada, I took a good rest by remaining
there for two days, and was greatly benefited thereby, for rest
and an opportunity to cool off from the excitement I was in,
were what I particularly needed if I expected to make
satisfactory progress with the healing of my wound. I was
visited by a great many of the ladies of the place, who
presented me with bouquets, delicacies of various kinds, and
bandages for my wound, and who otherwise overwhelmed me
with attentions, for which I hope I was duly grateful. Not only
the natural restlessness of my disposition, which my wound
aggravated to such an extent that it was an impossibility for me
to keep quiet, but a desire to get as far away from the army of
Tennessee as possible, before the fact that Lieutenant Harry
T. Buford was a woman became generally known, induced me
to move on with all the speed I could make, and I consequently
started for New Orleans before I was really fit to travel. The
result was, that when I reached Jackson, I found myself too
ill to proceed farther, and was compelled, much against my will,
to make another stop.
The hospitalities I received at Jackson, I will always
remember with the warmest feelings of gratitude. I was really
very sick, and my wounded shoulder and arm were terribly
inflamed, and I scarcely know what I should have done had not
a widow lady and her daughter taken a fancy to me, and waited
on me until I was able to be on the road again. These ladies
treated me like a young lord, and I shall ever think of them as
having placed me under a debt that I can never repay.
At Jackson, I made the acquaintance of General Price's
quartermaster, who was stationed there. This gentleman I
afterwards met in Wyoming Territory, but he did not
recognize me, as, indeed, it was scarcely possible that he should.
On The Move Again.
So soon as I thought myself able to endure the fatigues
of travel, I insisted upon being on the move in spite of
the remonstrances of my friends, and made another start for
New Orleans. I had, however, miscalculated my strength, and
was compelled to make another halt at Osyka, near the
Louisiana line. At this place resided one of the best friends I ever had
in the world. He is, in truth, one of Nature's noblemen, and I
wish that our country had more like him. My fervent prayer is,
that he may have long life, health, and abundant prosperity, and
that every blessing may be showered upon him and his
family. With this kind friend I remained a couple of days, and
was treated with the greatest kindness, a kindness that would
scarcely permit of my departure, when, feeling in better health
and spirits than I had been since the battle, I announced my
intention of continuing my journey. Resisting all importunities to
make a longer stay, however, I insisted upon going, and
stepped on board the train bound for New Orleans,
determined to reach that city this time at all hazards.
By this time my wound was healing quite nicely; and
although it pained me considerably still, the feverishness which
had attended it was gone, and I began to feel myself once
more, and with restored health began to busy myself in
making plans for the future. Exactly what course next to
pursue I could not quite determine, but I felt very confident
that if I once reached New Orleans, and could prevent myself
from being interfered with by my old friends, the provost
marshal and Mayor Monroe I would very soon find some
congenial employment.
On the train there were a great many wounded men, some
of them old friends of mine whom I was glad to meet with
again. The trip, therefore, was a pleasant one in some
respects, notwithstanding its melancholy aspects, and we had a
tolerably lively time discussing the late battle, and the chances
of the Confederates being able to make headway in the
future against the force which the Federals were bringing
against them in every direction. We were obliged to
acknowledge that the outlook was not a particularly
promising one, and more than one expressed the belief that
New Orleans would be the next object of attack. There was a
good deal of confidence felt, however, that a Federal advance
against the Gulf city, if it should be attempted, would be
repulsed in a manner, that would, in some degree, compensate
for the Confederate defeats at Fort Donelson and Shiloh.
This confidence, on the part of my companions, I was scarcely
able to share, for, not only had my late experiences shaken my
belief in the invincibility of the Confederate army, but I knew
better than they did that the Federals intended to assail New
Orleans, and I felt very certain, that if the assault
was made, it would be with a force that our people would find
well-nigh irresistible. I, however, kept my thoughts to myself,
but resolved that so soon as we arrived in the city, I would exert
myself with a view of obtaining a full understanding of the
situation, and decide according to circumstances what course
it would be best for me to pursue.
Back In New Orleans.
In New Orleans I met a number of old friends, James
Doolan, Frank Moore, Captain Daugherty, and others, all of
whom were first-rate fellows, and all quite certain that in case
the Federals should put in an appearance, they would be given
a warmer reception than they bargained for. I admired their
enthusiasm, although I was not as well able to share it as I
would perhaps have been some months before, and I resolved
to see for myself, as much as I was able, exactly what the
defences of the city amounted to. I accordingly went about the
camps as much as I could, in a quiet sort of way, making
mental notes of all I observed, and I very soon came to the
conclusion that the military situation was one that I did not like
a bit. I knew, however, that the river defences were strong,
and I hoped, rather than expected, that they would be able to
repel any attack that would be made.
I was not long, however, in concluding that New Orleans
would be a good place for me to go away from at as early a
day as possible, for I had no notion of witnessing another
triumph of the enemy if I could help it. I was, however, far
from being strong enough to go on active duty, and thought that
the best thing I could do was to remain where I was until my
health was entirely restored, and to employ this enforced
leisure in maturing a definite plan of action for the future, for,
with returning health, my desire for active employment, either in
the field or on detective duty, returned with all its original force,
and I could not induce myself to entertain the idea of resuming
permanently the garments of my sex, and of abandoning the
service of the Confederacy so long as there was any work to be done.
When the news came that the Federal fleet had passed Forts
Jackson and St. Philip, I at first thought of leaving as quickly as
I could; but a little reflection induced me to change my mind,
for I saw clearly that if the Federals took possession of the
city, I would, as a woman, have a grand field of
operation. I therefore resolved to remain and see the thing
out, and the uniform of Lieutenant Harry T. Buford was
carefully put away for future use if need be, and the wearer thereof
assumed the garments of a non-combatant feminine for the purpose of
witnessing the entry of the victors into the captured city.
CHAPTER XIX.
THE
CAPTURE OF NEW ORLEANS, AND BUTLER'S ADMINISTRATION.
Capture of Island No. 10. — The impending Attack on New Orleans. —
The unsatisfactory Military Situation. — Confidence of Everybody in
the River Defences. — My Apprehensions of Defeat. — The Fall of
New Orleans. — Excitement in the City on the News of the Passage of
the Forts being received. — I resolve to abandon the Career of a
Soldier, and to resume the Garments of my own Sex. Appearance of the
Fleet opposite the City. — Immense Destruction of Property. — My
Congratulations to Captain Bailey of the Navy. — Mayor Monroe's
Refusal to raise the Federal Flag. — General Butler assumes Command
of the City. — Butler's Brutality. — I procure the foreign Papers
of an English Lady, and strike up an Acquaintance with the Provost
Marshal. — Am introduced to other Officers, and through them gain
Access to Headquarters. — Colonel Butler furnishes me with the
necessary Passes to get through the Lines. — I drive an active Trade
in Drugs and Confederate Money while carrying Information to and
fro. — Preparations for a grand final Speculation in Confederate
Money. — I am intrusted with a Despatch for the "Alabama," and am
started for Havana.
OLLOWING
close upon the defeat at Shiloh came the fall of Island No.
10, a disaster of great moment to the Confederacy, for the
strength of its fortifications had been much relied upon to check
the advance of the Federals down the Mississippi River; and
the loss of the position almost simultaneously with the
Shiloh affair was well calculated to inspire gloomy apprehensions
for the future. I heard the news that Island No. 10
had been captured, after reaching New Orleans, and the fact
that the enemy had been successful in forcing so strong a
defence with comparative ease, taken in connection with the
radical inefficiency of many of the military preparations being
made for the defence of the city, prevented me from sharing
the extreme confidence so many people expressed, and
that so many undoubtedly felt, with regard to the entire
safety of New Orleans. If a strong fort
like Island No. 10 could be taken, why should not the
Federals, especially if they made the attack with a proper
vigor, be able to overcome any resistance the defences of
New Orleans — in many respects not by any means so
strong — would be able to make?
Exactly when or where the blow would be struck, however,
it was impossible to tell. The general impression was that
the attack would be made by the army under General Butler,
and how really formidable the Federal fleet was, few, if any,
had any real notion. I suppose that scarcely any one imagined
the ships would make an unsupported effort to pass the
fortifications below the city, or that they would succeed in
doing so in case the attempt was made. I knew little or nothing
about the river defences, or the preparations that were being
made to receive a naval attack, from my own observations, but
from what I understood with regard to them, I felt tolerably
assured of their efficiency, and my chief concern was about
the inefficiency of the measures adopted to resist a land
attack.
The Federal Fleet Passes The Fort.
The Federal fleet, however, to the surprise of every one,
succeeded in overcoming the obstructions in the river, and in
passing the two principal forts, after a desperate battle, and
then New Orleans was at the mercy of the naval gunners,
specimens of whose methods of fighting had been exhibited to
me at Fort Donelson and Shiloh in such a manner as to inspire
me with a wholesome dislike for the kind of missiles they were
in the habit of throwing. The gunboats I had encountered at
Fort Donelson and Shiloh were, however, very different
affairs from the ships which fought their way past Forts
Jackson and St. Philip, — a broadside from a frigate like the
Hartford ought almost to have routed an entire army; and
when I saw these splendid vessels appearing off the levee, I
began to have a greater respect for the power of the Federal
government than I had had before, and a greater appreciation
of the weakness of the Confederacy.
But while I was thus compelled to appreciate more forcibly than
I had done the enormous difficulties in the way of a successful
termination of the contest, I was no more in a mood for
surrendering than I was at the beginning. Indeed, defeat and
disaster only nerved me to make greater exertions than ever, and
I held in utter contempt those weak-hearted people who,
when the news that the fleet had passed the forts and was
on its way up to the city reached us, were willing to regard the
game for which they were playing as lost, and the Confederate
cause as practically overthrown. I was for fighting the thing
out so long as we had a foot of ground to fight on, but I saw
very clearly that if anything was to be gained now, in the face
of the heavy disasters that were overtaking us, stratagem as
well as force would have to be called into play, and that we
would be compelled to combat the enemy's strength with cunning.
I Determine To Figure Again As A Woman.
I felt particularly that the time was now come for me to
make a display of my talents in another character than that of
a warrior, and the arrival of the fleet in front of the city found
me in the anxious and angry crowd on the levee, not
inelegantly attired in the appropriate garments of my
sex — garments that I had not worn for so long that they felt
strangely unfamiliar, although I was not altogether displeased
at having a fair opportunity to figure once more as a woman,
if only for variety sake.
Strange to say, the capture of New Orleans did not affect
me near so unpleasantly as the defeats at Fort Donelson and
Shiloh, and I felt nothing of the depression of spirit that
overcame me after these battles. This may have been
because I was getting accustomed to defeat now, and was
consequently able to bear up under it more philosophically,
although it is more than probable that it was because I was not
one of the combatants, and consequently did not have that
overpowering individual interest that a combatant must feel if
he cares anything for his cause. I experienced less of that
peculiarly disagreeable feeling of personal chagrin and
disappointment that oppresses a soldier belonging to a beaten
army. The fact, however, that when the Federals obtained
possession of the city I would probably be able to do some
detective duty in a style that would not only be satisfying to my
own ambition, but damaging to the enemy, and of essential
service to the Confederacy, really enabled me to behold the
approach of the fleet with a considerable degree of what
almost might be called satisfaction. As a woman, and
especially as a woman who had facilities for appearing as a
representative of either sex, I knew that I would be able
to observe the enemies movements,
and ferret out their plans in a signally advantageous
manner; and, confident that my cunning and skill would enable
me to perform an important work, I was really anxious to see
the enemy occupy the city, in order that I might try
conclusions with them, having ample confidence that I would
prove myself a match for the smartest Yankee of them all.
I was the more willing to try and distinguish myself in a new
field, as I had amply demonstrated to my own satisfaction,
and to that of thousands of the best fighting men of the
Confederate armies, that I lacked nothing of the valorous
disposition of a soldier, and that I could stand without flinching
before the hottest fire of the enemy, and I aspired to win fresh
laurels by performing services of a kind that would require an
exertion of all my intellectual faculties, and that would, if I
were to be even reasonably successful, bring me more real
credit, and more enduring fame, than almost any performances
in the field that I might undertake. After nearly a year of
service, I was just beginning to appreciate the fact that I
occupied a unique position, and that my efforts would be almost
profitless, alike to me and to the Confederate cause, if I was
content merely to figure as an additional combatant when the
actual clash of battle came; and while I did not regret, for a
great variety of reasons, my experiences in the field, I was
very well satisfied to abandon, for a while at least, a soldier's
life for the purpose of undertaking work more naturally
congenial than campaigning, and for which my sex, combined
with my soldierly training, peculiarly fitted me. My
experimental trip to Washington satisfied me that it was as a
detective, rather than as a soldier, that my best successes were
to be won; and now that one of my most important surmises,
based upon almost the barest hints obtained on that trip, was
proven to have been well founded, I was inspired by a special
zeal to carry out intentions which I had been revolving in my
mind ever since my visit to the Federal capital. These
intentions I had intended to carry out long before, and had I
accepted the invitation to return to Virginia, which I received
some time before the battle of Fort Donelson, I doubtless
would, long ere this, have been actively employed in passing
through the Federal lines in search of information. The
acceptance of that invitation was, however, delayed, and
finally abandoned, and circumstances prevented my making a very
serious effort to become an active attaché of the detective
corps up to the date of the fall of New Orleans. With the
capture of that city, however, I concluded that my great opportunity
had come, and that now it depended upon myself, rather than upon the
favor or whim of some commanding officer, whether I should give the
cause the benefit of my best talents or not. The opportunity I embraced
with the utmost eagerness, and with a resolve to make myself as
troublesome as possible to the conquerors of New Orleans.
General Lovell, who was in command, so soon as he saw
that the fleet had passed the forts, posted up to the city in hot
haste, and began to make preparations for leaving, and for
destroying all the cotton and other property that would be likely
to be particularly useful to the enemy. The wildest excitement
prevailed when it was understood that New Orleans was
about to fall into the hands of the Federals, and great wrath
and indignation were excited by what was believed to be the
inefficiency of the defence. Without waiting to argue the
matter, however, with the angry citizens, General Lovell turned
over the responsibility of making terms with the victors to
Mayor Monroe, and got away with the remnant of his army
as fast as he was able.
The Fleet Appears Off The City.
Late in the morning of the 25th of April, 1862, the
Federal fleet could be seen coming up the river, but it must
have dampened the enthusiasm of the Yankee sailors
somewhat to find steamboats, cotton, and all kinds of
combustible property blazing for miles along the levee. It was a
terribly magnificent spectacle, but one the like of which I
earnestly hoped I might never witness again, for it fairly made
me shudder to see millions of dollars worth of property being
utterly destroyed in this reckless manner, and it impressed me
more strongly with an idea of the horrors of warfare than all
the fighting and slaughter I had ever seen done. There
seemed, however, to be no help for it, and General Lovell
was probably justified in giving the order he did, and thereby
diminishing the value of the prize which the Federals had won.
It was about one o'clock when the fleet came in front of the
city, and the vessels, one by one, dropped their anchors. A
demand for a surrender was brought on shore by Captain
Bailey, who went up to the City Hall to have a conference
with the mayor. I was on the alert to commence operations as
soon as possible, and, desirous of being in favor with the
captors, I
sought an opportunity to speak to Captain Bailey, and to welcome him
to the city. He shook hands with me, and said that
he would see me again; but he had no time for conversation
just then, and as my object was accomplished by introducing
myself to his notice as a pretended friend of his cause, I did
not make any endeavor to further attract his attention.
Mayor Monroe behaved nobly when he was asked to
surrender the city. He said that the city was without defence,
and at the mercy of the conquerors, but that it was not within
his province as a municipal officer to surrender. He declined to
raise the United States flag over the public buildings, or to do
anything that would seem a recognition of the right of the
Federals in any way to regulate affairs in New Orleans by
anything else than the law of force. When I read his reply to
Farragut's demand for a surrender, I readily forgave my private
grievance against him. The mayor having positively refused to
have anything to do with displaying the United States flag, or
with lowering the flag of Louisiana, the raising of the stars and
stripes on the public buildings was done by the sailors from
the Federal fleet.
Mumford Pulls Down The Flag From The Mint.
The United States flag which was raised upon the mint was
pulled down again by Mumford, who paid the penalty of his life
for the act after Butler took command of the city. The
execution of this young man was an outrage on civilization,
and a crime on the part of the man who ordered it which
entitles his memory to execration. Mumford told me himself
that he perpetrated the act through a mistaken idea that the
flag had been displayed by some traitor, and that he was not
aware at the time that the Federals had assumed control of the
city. The execution of Mumford was a fair specimen of the
many dastardly actions perpetrated by Butler during the reign
of terror that he inaugurated, and that will cause his name to
be remembered with hatred in New Orleans, and, indeed,
throughout the whole South, long after the ordinary passions of
the war have died out.
When Butler took command, which he did on May 1st, he
issued orders stopping the circulation of Confederate currency,
directing the people to resume their usual avocations, and
giving everybody to understand that he intended to have his own way.
It is not necessary, in a merely personal narrative like this, to
go into any details with regard to Butler's rule in New Orleans.
The execution of Mumford for what, according to the worst construction
that could be put upon it, was a very venial offense, and what in
reality was a mere act of indiscretion, utterly unworthy of notice,
after the Federals were in full control of the city, and his infamous
"woman order," are specimens of the manner in which he conducted
himself, and they were acts that speak too loudly for themselves
to require comment.
Plans For Circumventing Butler.
I soon perceived that with such a brute as this man
Butler to deal with, it would be necessary for me to be
extremely circumspect, and to bring my best strategic talents to
bear, if I expected to accomplish anything. I was well
acquainted with the city and environs, and knew exactly how to
go about slipping in and out through the lines; but to carry on
such operations as I proposed with a reasonable degree of
safety and assurance of success, it was necessary — especially
after the deposition of Mayor Monroe, by Buttery order, and the
placing of the city under martial law — for me to keep all my
wits about me, and to take care to be on good terms with those
in authority.
I therefore set to work with due diligence and
persistency to gain the confidence of the Federal officers.
Some of them I found to be very pleasant, gentlemanly fellows,
who were disposed to make themselves as agreeable as
possible to everybody, and who were much gratified to hear any
one — especially any woman — express Union sentiments.
Many of them did not at all approve of the offensive manner in
which Butler conducted himself, and some of his orders were
carried out with a great deal of reluctance by those intrusted
with their execution. With some of these officers I soon
managed to get on very friendly terms, and they were always
so polite and considerate in their treatment of myself and
others, that I greatly regretted the necessity of deceiving them.
I, however, had objects in view with which my private
friendships and personal feelings could not be permitted to
interfere, and in all my conversations and communications
with the officers of Butler's command, I never lost sight of
opportunities to serve the Confederate cause. Following up
the line of policy I had determined upon when I introduced
myself to Captain Bailey, I professed strong Union sentiments,
and took occasion, whenever in the presence of officers or
soldiers, to denounce the cause I loved, and the welfare of
which I was so anxious to promote. This line of conduct had
the desired effect, for I soon became known as one of the few
stanch advocates of the Federal government in New Orleans,
and not only secured myself from molestation. but gained the
entire confidence of our new rulers. My Southern friends,
who could not understand what I was driving at, were, of
course, alienated from me, much to my regret and sorrow; but
this could not be helped, for it was absolutely necessary, in a
matter of this kind, that I should have no confidants, and should
depend entirely upon myself. My secret, so long as I was the
sole possessor of it, was safe, which it assuredly would not
have been under such a system of espionage as that
established by Butler, had I intrusted it to any one, or had I
failed in the slightest particular to sustain the character of a
devoted Unionist, which I had assumed. It was better for me to
risk the temporary loss of my friends, in the hope and
expectation that the vindication of my conduct would come
with time, than to risk anything by an incautious word, or even
look; and I accepted the consequences of a thorough
performance of the duties I had assigned myself without
hesitation, and with a resolute determination to give Butler as
much annoyance as was in my power.
I Procure Some Foreign Papers.
I had a stroke of good luck in the very beginning. An English
lady, with whom I had become slightly acquainted, was on the
point of returning to her own country, having come to the
conclusion that Old England was a quieter, and on the whole
more agreeable place of residence, just at that time, than
America, for a person who, like herself, had no interest in the
contest that was being carried on, but who was pretty certain,
if she remained, to suffer numerous inconveniences and
hardships. This lady was decidedly friendly, however, to the
Confederate cause, as, indeed, were all the foreign residents
of New Orleans, and she would willingly have aided it in any
way that she could without getting herself in trouble. As
matters stood, however, she was anxious to get away as soon
as possible, the capture of the city by the
Federals, with its attendant horrors, combined with a prospect
that the Confederates would before long probably make a
desperate attempt to regain it, not having the most soothing
effect upon her nerves. Hearing that she was about to leave, I
went to her, and expressed a desire to purchase her passport
and other foreign papers, confident that, armed with such
documents as these, I would be able to make a fair start against
the Federal authorities, and gain some immediate
advantages that would probably be otherwise out of the
question. The lady readily consented to part with the papers
for a fair price, being glad to get the money I offered for them,
and she either believed, or affected to believe, the story which I
told to account for my eagerness to possess them. There was,
in fact, however, no particular necessity for romancing to any
great extent on such a subject as this; for in the terror and
confusion incident to the abandonment of the city by the
Confederates and its occupation by the Federals, and in the
great uncertainty with regard to what the near future would
bring forth, it was the most natural thing in the world that a
lone and unprotected woman like myself should desire to have
the means at hand of escaping from any claims to allegiance
that either party might present, and of invoking the protection
of some foreign power.
A Talk With The Provost Marshal.
Armed with my British papers, I went to the office of the
provost marshal for the purpose of striking up an
acquaintance with that gentleman, he being the person it was
most immediately important for me to have dealings with, and
to gain the confidence of. On requesting an interview, I was
ushered into the provost marshal's presence, and
introducing myself to him under the name I had decided to
assume, told him that I was heartily glad to welcome the army
of the United States to New Orleans, and that I hoped this
wretched contest would soon be at an end, and the stars
and stripes acknowledged everywhere once more.
He seemed to be a little surprised, and even
suspicious, at my warmth of manner, and giving me a
rather keen look, which I bore without flinching, he asked
me, with some brusqueness, but at the same time not
impolitely, if I had taken the oath yet.
This was a rather delicate question, and as I had not, and
did not intend to take the oath he alluded to, I concluded to
waive it, and avoid giving a direct answer. I therefore
replied that I was a Northern woman, and that my father
was a New Yorker, but that, being in New Orleans at the time
of the establishment of the blockade, I had been unable to
communicate with my friends at the North and in England, or
to get away. This was all plausible enough, and the provost
marshal accepted it as a genuine statement of my case,
apparently without hesitation, although he did not let me off
without some cross-questioning.
"Have you a family?" said he.
"No, sir," I replied, with as sad and mournful an
expression as I could put on, "I am a widow; my husband
was an Englishman, and on his death he left me in quite
comfortable circumstances. I have, however, lost everything
by these wretched rebels, who have destroyed my property,
and robbed me without mercy." While indulging in this recital
of my troubles I wiped my eyes with my pocket handkerchief, tried
my best to squeeze out a tear or two, and looked as sorrow-stricken
as I possibly could.
The provost marshal, if he did not exactly overflow with
sympathy, appeared desirous of doing what he could for me,
and asked where I lived.
I replied that, owing to my reduced circumstances I was
unable to keep house, as I had been doing up to the breaking
out of the war, and that I was occupying a rented room,
which, small as it was, I was doubtful about being able to keep
unless I heard from my friends soon, or was able to obtain
some employment by which I could make a little money. I then
told him what my number was, and after some further
conversation, chiefly about my poverty, the wrongs I had
suffered from the rebels, and the difficulty of making ends
meet, I informed him that I had come from England to New
Orleans with my late husband, some years before the war, and
that I proposed to return there so soon as I received a
sufficient remittance. The provost marshal expressed a
willingness to aid me in any way that lay in his power, and I
bowed myself out of his presence, feeling tolerably confident
that I had produced the impression I wished, and that, if I
managed matters discreetly, he and I would have no
difficulty in getting along with each other.
The next day I met the provost marshal again. He
appeared to be quite pleased to see me, and introduced me to
two officers of the thirty-first Massachusetts regiment. They
were both gentlemen, with whom it would have been a pleasure
for me to have formed a real friendship under any other
circumstances; but, as my only object in making their
acquaintance was that I might be able to use them as instruments
for the accomplishment of my purposes as a Confederate agent,
I of course did not permit my personal liking for
them to interfere with the grand objects I had in view. They, on
their side, appeared to be not a little gratified to find at least
one woman in New Orleans who professed a decided partiality for
the stars and stripes, — for such women were rare
in those days, — and they showed a marked inclination to
continue the acquaintance. I accordingly invited them to call
upon me, and soon managed to establish such friendly relations
with them that, through their influence, I gained access to
headquarters.
General Butler I fought shy of, for I did not like his looks,
and concluded to have as little to do with him as possible. I met
his brother, Colonel Butler, however, who was the power
behind the throne, and who managed most of the transactions
which had any money in them, which the general could not
have openly touched without exciting comment, and probably
getting himself into trouble. Both the general and the colonel
were decidedly on the make, and were bent on improving the
chances which the practically unlimited control of one of the
richest cities on the continent gave them for bettering their
fortunes. The colonel, however, could attend to mere pocket-filling
operations to better advantage than his brother, and it
soon became well understood that he was the one to apply to,
if any favors from headquarters were desired.
I Obtain Passes To Go Through The Lines.
From Colonel Butler I obtained permits to go to Mandeville,
on the other side of Lake Pontchartrain, and even to visit
Mobile, without being searched. With these papers in my
possession, I set about preparing for a career of some activity
in the way of running through the lines and communicating with
the Confederate authorities. Having the same desire as the two
Butlers to earn a dollar or so when I could, and, if possible,
without stealing, I engaged quite extensively in the drug
business, while performing the duties of a special messenger
and bearer of Confederate despatches. Drugs of all
kinds were very scarce within the Confederate lines, and
consequently brought enormous prices; so that any one who
could manage to smuggle them past the Federal outposts was
certain of reaping a handsome profit. I succeeded in obtaining
a good quantity of this kind of merchandise from the different
hospitals, and, as I could carry many dollars' worth about my
person without attracting particular attention, I much more than
made my expenses on the several trips I undertook to
Mandeville and beyond. Confederate money was also cheap,
as well as plenty, in New Orleans, as everybody had some of
it; while, under Butler's orders, it could not be used. It
therefore offered fine opportunities for speculation to any one
who could carry it to where it was of more value than it was in
New Orleans just at that time. I therefore invested quite
heavily in Confederate promises to pay, and, as with the drugs,
contrived to make the speculation pay handsomely.
Having made several trips with success and with much
profit, I began to think that I was, perhaps, making out with my
enterprises entirely too well; and, apprehensive of getting into
some difficulty which I might not be able to get out of as easily
as I could wish, — for I saw a number of indications of trouble
ahead, — I resolved, while on one of my expeditions, after a
consultation with my Confederate friends, to return to New
Orleans, for the purpose of buying up a quantity of the
proscribed money, and then to leave for good, getting out of
Butler's power while I had a fair chance of doing so. This
arrangement fell through, however; for I was persuaded to
make a trip to Havana, for the purpose of carrying a despatch
to the Confederate cruiser, the "290," or "Alabama," as she
was otherwise called, and of transacting some other
business of a secret character for advancing the interests of
the Confederacy. This commission I accepted with eagerness,
and returned to New Orleans with what haste I could, with the
despatch secreted on my person, for the purpose of taking
the first vessel for Havana.
CHAPTER XX.
A VISIT TO HAVANA.
A Trip to Havana. — My Purposes in making the Journey. — The Results
of a Year of Warfare. — Gloomy Prospects. — A Gleam of Hope in
Virginia. — The Delights of a Voyage on the Gulf of Mexico. — The Island
of Cuba in Sight. — The Approach to Havana. — I communicate with the
Confederate Agents and deliver my Despatches. — An Interchange of
valuable Information. — The Business of Blockade-running and its
enormous Profits. — The Injury to the Business caused by the Capture of
New Orleans. — My Return to New Orleans and Preparation for future
Adventures.
HE
idea of making a trip to Havana was very agreeable to me for
a number of reasons. My health
was not so robust as it had been, and my wounded arm, although it had
healed up, was still very
sore, and hurt me severely at times. It was an impossibility for me to
keep quiet so long as I was in
the midst of associations calculated to excite me and to stimulate the
combativeness of my nature,
and I needed more than anything else, for restoration to perfect health,
such a rest as a sea voyage
alone could give. There was, it is true, some risks in visiting Havana at
this season, but I was
acclimated, and did not worry myself much with fears of yellow fever or
other diseases, my mind
being too intently fixed on a variety of other matters that I esteemed
of more consequence.
The most important reason for my wishing to take a run over
there was, a desire to make the
acquaintance of the Confederate agents, and to learn something
of their methods of transacting
business in the way of sending communications through the lines,
for, even when the blockade
could not be run with goods, it was often possible to smuggle
important information past the
Federal cruisers, and, some of the post lines were so complete,
that, in spite of the vigilance of
their enemies, the beleaguered Confederates managed to maintain
correspondence very regularly with their friends of the outside world.
My brief experience had convinced me that I had
peculiar talents for the kind of work in which I had been
engaged since the advent of Butler and his forces in New
Orleans, and my only regret was, that I had not made a
persistent effort to take it up sooner. I determined now,
however, to qualify myself as quickly as possible for the
business of a spy and a bearer of despatches, for I felt assured
that there would be plenty of employment found for me before
the war was over, and that if I proved myself skilful and
reliable, the Confederate authorities would avail themselves of
my services with an alacrity they had not shown when I was
skirmishing around in the character of a little dandy
independent lieutenant, seeking to have a hand in every fight.
A Discouraging Outlook.
The military situation in some of its aspects was gloomy
enough. In the West we had occasional successes, but their
permanent value was little or nothing, while the enemy was
steadily advancing and making the beleaguerment of the
Confederacy more complete every day. The loss of New
Orleans was a bewildering blow, from which there was no
recovery but by the retaking of the city, and the prospects that
we would be able to do this very soon were not particularly
promising. In the mean time the Federals were evidently
working resolutely to gain possession of the Mississippi River
throughout its entire length, and strong as were the
fortifications at Vicksburg and other points, I had not that faith
in their invincibility I once would have had. I had seen too
many positions proclaimed invincible and defended with valor,
fall before the Federal attacks, for me to have anything of my
old-time faith in the irresistible valor of Southern soldiers or the
masterly generalship of Southern commanders. The old boast
which I was accustomed to hear so often at the outbreak of
the war, that one Southerner could whip five Yankees, had
turned out to be mere boasting, and nothing more. The
Federals, while they did not have all the dash and elan of the
Confederates, had proved their fighting qualities on too many
well-contested fields for the old-fashioned talk about the
superiority of Southern prowess to be in order; and they had a
way, when they once captured an important position, of
staying there, in spite of all efforts to dislodge them, that did not
promise at all well for the future of the cause.
Were it not that the news from Virginia was in some degree
encouraging, I should have been almost willing to have concluded,
that we were indeed nearing the last ditch, which some
of our orators were so fond of alluding to. There, however, the
Confederate soldiers were indeed winning laurels, and the
capture of Richmond was as apparently as far off as it was
when I turned my back upon it to seek my fortune in the West.
If our brave boys under Lee, therefore, could only improve the
summer as the winter had been improved in the West by the
Federals, there would be some hope that, after all, we might
win the desperate game we were playing, and accomplish
substantially all for which we took up arms.
Effects Of The Blockade.
In the mean time, however, things were in a bad way in
many respects in the beleaguered Confederacy. The coast
blockade was now fully established, and the enemy's lines were
drawn so close along the principal avenues of communication
with the outside world and the interior, that our commerce was
completely killed, and our people were already suffering for
many of the necessities of life, while the requirements of
warfare with a powerful enemy, amply provided with
resources, were impoverishing them more and more every
day. Whole districts had been devastated by the manoeuvrings
of the different armies, and the suffering among the poorer
classes throughout the entire South was very great, while many
persons, who were possessed of ample wealth before the war,
were now feeling the pinchings of poverty, and were learning
what it was not to know where the next meal was coming from.
It was truly a pitiable condition of affairs; and the worst of
it was, that there was no promise of speedy amendment. If
these were the results of one year of warfare, what would be
the condition of things, should the conflict be prolonged for
another twelvemonth? Alas! it was prolonged, not for one
more year merely, but for three; and when the dreadful day of
total irremediable defeat — to which some of us, at the time
which I am now referring to, were already uneasily and
unwillingly looking forward — finally came, the South was
literally exhausted, as no other country ever had been before.
While I could not help reflecting deeply on the discouragement
of the situation, and feeling uneasy with regard to the
future, it was not my disposition to brood over possibly
imaginary misfortunes, or to allow myself to be unnerved by
disasters that might never happen. I believed in making the
most of the present, and I knew that the only way in which
success ever could be achieved, would be by those who really
had the interest of the cause at heart laboring incessantly, and
in the face of every discouragement, with all the energy at their
command. The difficulties of the situation, indeed, inspired me
with a sort of enthusiasm which I had not felt before, and the
particular sort of duty which I had now taken up was so
decidedly congenial, and promised to be so full of exciting
adventures, that there was a positive enjoyment to be got from
it, such as mere campaigning did not yield.
Off For Havana.
I started off for Havana, therefore, in anticipation of a
particularly pleasant cruise, which would not only be beneficial
to my health, but which would afford me an agreeable change
of scene, and at the same time give me facilities for carrying
on the line of operations I proposed to the best advantage.
Leaving the turbulent current and the muddy banks of the
Mississippi behind me, the vessel upon which I embarked was
soon ploughing her way through the beautiful blue waters of
the Gulf of Mexico, pointed towards my native city — a city that
I had not visited since I left it years ago, when a child, to go to
New Orleans for the purpose of completing my education. It
was upon these waters, and in their vicinity, that my adventure-loving
ancestors had achieved renown and wealth in making
explorations and conquests of the New World discovered by
Columbus. Not far from the track of the ship in which I was
now speeding towards Havana had sailed the expedition fitted
out by old Governor Don Diego Valazquez, which discovered
Mexico, and prepared the way for the brilliant exploits of Cortez
and his followers, while the whole Gulf and its surrounding shores
were alive with memories of the valiant deeds of the valiant people
of my father's race.
Nothing more delightful than a cruise on the Gulf of Mexico
during the summer season can be imagined. The water is
deeply, darkly, beautifully blue, — a blue totally unlike that of the
Atlantic Ocean, and one of the loveliest of colors, — and to sail upon
the broad bosom of this sea of sapphire, for three or four days in fine
weather, with just breeze enough to make the spray fly from the tops
of the waves, is one of the rarest enjoyments that life affords. I
certainly enjoyed it, and every warm sea breeze that fanned my
cheeks brought health, strength, and exhilaration of spirits with it.
This was just what I wanted to revive me after the trials and
sufferings — physical and mental — of the past twelve months, and to
prepare me for the trying duties yet to be performed.
Approaching Cuba.
At length, far in the distance, the lofty Cuban highlands were seen,
resting like a faint blue cloud on the horizon, but taking shape as we
approached, until, from the misty outlines, the mountain forms began
to disclose themselves, and finally cities, villages, and even single
houses and trees were revealed. It seemed like going into another
world; for anything more unlike the low, flat, and unpicturesque
country which I had just left, could scarcely be imagined, and I not
only felt proud of my beautiful native island, but I wondered not that
Spain should cling with such tenacity to this the fairest, and now the
only really important portion of the great dominion which her
valorous sons had centuries before conquered for her in the New
World. At the same time, I begrudged that this fair island should be
the dependency of a foreign power; for I was, despite my Spanish
ancestry, an American, heart and soul, and if there was anything that
could have induced me to abandon the cause of the Southern
Confederacy, it would have been an attempt on the part of the
Cubans to have liberated themselves from the Spanish yoke.
As we approached Cuba, and as the beautiful island seemed to rise
out of the sea before us, revealing more and more of its surpassing
loveliness, I wondered within myself whether such an attempt would
not some day — and some day soon — be made, and more than half
resolved that should the Cubans strike a blow for independence, I
would join my fortunes to theirs, and serve their cause with the same
assiduity that I was now serving that of the Confederacy.
After a voyage which had been to me one of uninterrupted
pleasure, our ship dropped anchor before the city of Havana.
No city on the globe has been more fitly named; for this harbor is
unsurpassed, and nestles beneath the shadow of the vine-clad
hills, — a broad, land-locked basin, in which the navies of the world
might
float. While not insensible to the beauties of the spectacle which the
place of my nativity and its surroundings presented to the eye, I was
too full of other thoughts just at that moment to give myself up to the
enjoyment of it, as I might have done at another time, and was as
eager to get on shore and execute my commission, as if my brief
sojourn on shipboard had been a thraldom to me instead of a source
of real pleasure.
Landing In Havana.
I, therefore, landed at the earliest possible moment; and making my
way through streets that seemed strangely familiar, and among
people speaking my native tongue, which sounded most oddly after
the long years since I had been accustomed to hear it habitually
spoken, I succeeded in finding the Confederate agent, into whose
trusty hands I had been directed to place my despatches for the
"Alabama." This important commission having been satisfactorily
executed, my chief responsibilities were at an end, and I was at liberty
to gratify my curiosity and my desire to learn all that could be learned
that was likely to be of service to me in any future enterprises in
which I might be engaged.
I confidently expected to visit Havana again, and, perhaps, many
times before the end of the war, and therefore was anxious to make
the most of the present opportunity for gaining all the information I
was able that would in any way aid me in the successful prosecution
of such exploits as I might hereafter think it expedient to undertake.
The friends of the Confederacy, with whom I was thrown in
contact, were eager to obtain all the news they could with regard to
the progress of events, the present situation of affairs,
and the prospect for the immediate future. I was able to tell
them a great many things that surprised them, and to give
them much important information that would never have
reached them through the ordinary news channels. There
was much, of course, that I did not tell, for a great variety of
reasons, and they were evidently puzzled to understand how
I came to be possessed of such extensive and such accurate
information. I was, of course, particularly reticent about the
part I had been playing during a greater portion of the past year, and
represented myself to be just what I then appeared, — a woman, who
was engaged in the perilous task of running the lines for the purpose
of carrying information. My evident accomplishments, and my
thorough knowledge upon many points about which they were but
meagrely informed, however, greatly increased their respect for me,
and enabled me to gain confidences that otherwise might have been withheld.
In Communication With Confederate Agents.
From Messrs. Infanta & Co., and other prominent persons, I
succeeded in learning much that was well worth knowing; and before
the time came for me to say adieu to Havana, my brain was teeming
with plans which I was all eagerness to execute. I found that the
friends of the Confederacy were completely in the ascendent in
Havana, and that more than one of its capitalists were deeply
interested in the profitable but hazardous business of blockade-running;
although, through a variety of circumstances, this city was
not the headquarters of the extensive trade which the misfortunes of
the South were building up, and which promised to yield almost
fabulous profits should the war continue for any length of time, as
these good money-loving people evidently desired that it should.
I could not help thinking, however, when I heard of the enormous
sums of money which a single cargo yielded, in event of its being
able to elude the Federal cruisers and the blockading fleet, and reach
a Southern port, of the suffering and impoverished people at whose
expense the blockade-runners were heaping up riches, and I wished
heartily that I had some way of making them devote a portion of their
wealth to the relief of the victims of cruel war, and to the
advancement of the cause. I could not help acknowledging, however,
that their money was fairly earned, and that while accumulating
magnificent profits by their operations, they were doing a great deal
in a certain way towards sustaining the Confederacy in the mighty
struggles it was making for independence.
The capture of New Orleans had been a great surprise to every one
in Havana, as it doubtless was to the friends of the Confederacy
everywhere; and it was the cause of innumerable
and bitter regrets, for it effectually put a stop to blockade-running
in that quarter, and, consequently cut off many opportunities for
tolerably easy money-making, which those in the business had
hitherto enjoyed. Every one agreed that it was by far the most
damaging blow that the Federals had yet succeeded in striking at the
Confederacy, and not a few believed that it was but the prelude to
greater disasters, and to a final overthrow of the attempt which was
being made to secure a permanent severance of the South from the
North. All, however, were agreed that, so far as they were concerned,
obedience to the adage, to make hay while the sun shines, was the
only true policy; and that, while the perils of blockade-running would
now be greatly increased, the profits were so enormous as to warrant
all the risks, and that the business would, therefore, be prosecuted
with more energy than ever, while it would be necessary to adopt a
more perfect and certain system of communication with the
Confederate authorities. I was able to give a great number of valuable
hints with regard to the best way of managing things; and, in return,
was supplied with many points which I would be likely to find useful,
both immediately and in the future.
My stay in Havana was of short duration; and having
accomplished my errand, and learned all that I could, I proposed to
return to New Orleans.
Back In New Orleans.
The return trip was as agreeable as the one out, and it greatly
refreshed and benefited me, so that when I again set foot on the
levee at New Orleans, I felt in better condition than I had been in for
a long time, and was prepared for any amount of hard work; and of
hard work there was likely to be plenty to do, for Butler was
tightening his grasp on the people, and was disposed to make his
rule over them as little gratifying to their feelings as possible. That
my old business of smuggling drugs, and other matters needed by
the Confederates, and of conveying information back and forth,
would have to be carried on — if it were carried on at all — under a
pressure of much greater difficulties than formerly, was soon very
apparent. I was not one, however, to be appalled by difficulties, but
was rather excited by them to exert myself to the utmost; and it
afforded me an immense amount of satisfaction that, in a quiet way, I
would be able to accomplish
many things for which Butler would have been highly pleased
to have strangled me, could he have discovered what I was about.
And I did manage to do several tolerably good strokes of work before
New Orleans became too unpleasant a place for me to abide in, and I
was forced to the conclusion that it was best for me to take up my
quarters elsewhere, outside of Butler's jurisdiction.
CHAPTER XXI.
A DIFFICULTY WITH
BUTLER. — ESCAPE FROM NEW ORLEANS.
Butler's Rule in New Orleans. — A System of
Terrorism. — My Acquaintance with
Federal Officers. — I resume the Business of carrying Information
through the
Lines. — A Trip to Robertson's Plantation for the Purpose of carrying
a
Confederate Despatch. — A long Tramp after Night. — Some of the
Incidents of
my Journey. — The Alligators and Mosquitoes. — Arrival at my
Destination, and
Delivery of the Despatch to a Confederate Officer. — My hospitable
Entertainment by Friends of the Confederacy. — My Return to New
Orleans. — Capture of the Bearer of my Despatch, and my
Arrest. — I am taken before
Butler, who endeavors to extort a Confession from me. — Butler as a
Bully. — I
refuse to confess, and am ordered to be imprisoned in the
Custom-House. — My
Release, through the Intercession of the British Consul. — I resolve
to leave
New Orleans, for fear of getting into further Trouble. — A Bargain
with a
Fisherman to take me across Lake Pontchartrain. — My Escape from
Butler's
Jurisdiction.
WAS
astonished, sometimes, at my own good luck in keeping clear of
controversies
with the military authorities; for Butler was bent on crushing out every
indication of
sympathy with the Confederacy, and he was most savage and relentless in
his punishment
of those who defied his mandates by attempting to hold communication with
the Southern
soldiery, who were only waiting for a proper opportunity to rescue New
Orleans, and who
were therefore anxious, of course, to understand exactly how matters
stood in the city, in
order that they might take advantage of a suitable moment, if any should
present, for
relieving its unpopular ruler of his responsibilities. The peculiar
situation of New Orleans,
on a narrow strip of land between the river and Lake Pontchartrain, and
with numerous
bayous, lakes, and other water ways in close proximity, was such as to
make the passage back
and forth of Confederate agents a much easier matter than it would have
been under some
circumstances. It was, however, a dangerous
business always, and a number of persons, of both sexes, who
undertook to defy Butler by communicating with their friends in the
interior, or who employed themselves in smuggling goods or
intelligence through the lines, were caught and punished; sentences
calculated to inspire terror in those who were capable of being
terrified being imposed, without regard to the sex or social standing
of the offenders.
A favorite punishment, for those who managed to fall under the
displeasure of the commanding general, was a sojourn, for periods of
time varying according to Butler's notions of the gravity of their
offences, on Ship Island, a desolate strip of sand on Mississippi
Sound, which had been used by the Federal forces as a rendezvous
before the attack upon the city. Butler was compelled to live on this
sandbank for a number of months, before Admiral Farragut made it
possible for him to take up his abode in one of the finest residences
of New Orleans, and he appeared to have contracted such an intense
dislike to the place, that he could imagine no worse fate for those who
were imprudent enough to defy his will, than to send them there. I
came very near being obliged to make Ship Island my home for a time
under orders from Butler, and only escaped such a fate through my
address and courage, and the thoroughness of the preparations I had
made to meet such an emergency.
Running The Lines.
Unlike many others, I settled myself down resolutely to the
business of running the lines, and was not satisfied with making a
trip or two, and then either ceasing operations altogether, or else
waiting until suspicion should die away before making another
attempt. I considered myself as much in the Confederate service as I
was when I wore the uniform of an officer, and I felt it my duty to be,
like a soldier, always vigilant, and always ready to do the enemy all
the damage I possibly could. I therefore went about the prosecution of
my plans systematically, taking all proper precautions, of course, to
avoid detection, but trusting a good deal to luck and to my ready wit
to get me out of any difficulty into which I might happen to fall.
I had very few friends or acquaintances, for I did not care to be
extensively known, being well aware that the more people there were
whose attention was attracted to me, the
more likelihood there would be of suspicion attaching to my
movements. At the same time I was anxious to avoid any appearance
of mystery, and took particular pains to let myself be seen
frequently, and to leave the impression that I was what I pretended
to be — a widow, in reduced circumstances, who was only waiting to
receive money from England in order to return to that country. I kept
up a sort of acquaintance with a few officers of the Federal army, to
whom I had been introduced, which I was the more pleased to do as
they were very pleasant gentlemen, and contrived, by frequent
allusions to the subject, to fix in their minds the idea that I had been
robbed, and otherwise outrageously maltreated by the Confederates,
and that the arrival of the Federals was a source of infinite
satisfaction to me.
From these officers I sometimes succeeded in obtaining
information that was worth having by judiciously keeping my ears
open, or by asking an apparently innocent question at the proper
moment. I was, however, very careful not to appear to question them,
or to do anything that would in the slightest degree arouse their
suspicions. My acquaintance with them was kept up for the purpose
of having it understood at headquarters, and among the officers
generally, that I was one of the few women in New Orleans who
professed Union sentiments. My means of gaining intelligence were
such as these gentlemen had little idea of, and were of such a
character that there was no necessity for me to risk anything by
imprudent conversation with them. Indeed, it was very evident
sometimes, judging from their conversation, that I
was very fully informed about a great many things with regard to
which they knew little or nothing.
I do not know whether or not Butler and his satellites ever
suspected me, up to the time they caught me. When I was finally
detected, and arraigned before the general, he tried his best to play
the bully, and to frighten me into making some admissions, and he
intimated that I had been under surveillance for a long time. This, however, was
probably all brag, or at least I chose to understand it as such; and as
I did not frighten at all to his satisfaction, he did not succeed in
making a great deal out of me.
Not a great while after my return from Havana, I undertook to go
to Robertson's Plantation, for the purpose of sending some
despatches, as well as some verbal information, to the Confederate
forces stationed at Franklin. It was necessary
for me to make the trip after nightfall, and to walk the entire
distance of seventeen miles; and that such a tramp could scarcely be
a particularly pleasant exercise, those who are acquainted with the
country around New Orleans need not be reminded. I was not to be
deterred, however, any more by the personal inconveniences
involved in my undertaking the expedition, than I was by any perils I
was likely to encounter, and set off, therefore, resolved to accomplish
my errand, if its accomplishment were possible.
A Long Walk After Night.
I had not much difficulty in getting past the outpost, and once
sure that I was out of sight and sound of the Federal pickets, I
started off at a steady pace, bent upon getting over as much ground
as I could before daylight came and rendered it necessary for me to
be more cautious in my movements. I made pretty good time, but did
not get along as fast as I would have done had I been in male attire,
and long before I reached my destination I heartily wished that it had
been possible for me to have donned a masculine habit in safety; for
a woman's skirts are not adapted for fast travelling on a Louisiana
highway, on a sultry summer's night, with only the stars and the fire-flies
to lighten the pathway.
It was a terribly lonesome walk. After getting past the pickets, I
did not meet with a single human being throughout the whole of my
long and weary journey. The only sounds to be heard were the
barking of the alligators, or the splashing of one of these monsters as
he plunged into the stream at my approach. I was frequently startled
by the sounds made by these horrid animals close at hand after a
considerable interval of silence, but pushed on resolutely despite
them, and despite the swarms of mosquitoes, which seemed to
increase in number as I proceeded, and which occasioned me infinite
annoyance. Whenever I sat down to rest, which I was compelled to
do a number of times before my journey was completed, these
venomous insects attacked me with the greatest fury, and my face
and hands were terribly bitten before I was able to escape from them.
These were some of the delights of my long night walk for the
purpose of fulfilling my mission as a bearer of despatches, and it was
an immense relief to me when, just about daybreak, I reached my
destination, foot-sore and completely tired out, but satisfied with
having accomplished my errand without having been interrupted.
The Despatch Delivered.
I found some Confederate soldiers preparing to cross the
lake, and, going to one of them, who seemed to be in command
of the party, I told him a number of things which I had
thought it more prudent not to commit to writing, and desired
him to pass the word along. Then, waiting until the boat
was ready to set sail, I gave him an enclosure containing my
despatches, asking him, if possible, to deliver it at headquarters, or if
he was unable to do this, to drop it at the earliest moment in the post-office.
I cautioned him particularly, and with the greatest earnestness, to
be exceedingly careful of the package, as it contained matters of vital
importance, upon which a great deal was dependent. He promised a
faithful compliance with my instructions, and jumping into the boat,
he and his companions shoved off from the shore, and were soon
lost in the heavy mist that rested upon the surface of the lake.
My responsibilities, so far as the custody of the despatches was
concerned, were now at an end, and with a light heart, but tired
limbs, I sought some place where I could obtain refreshment, and the
repose I so badly needed, before I attempted to return to the city.
Going to a house near by, I asked for something to eat, and an
opportunity to rest myself. Two gentlemen appeared and gave me a
very cordial welcome, for they understood, without questioning me,
what my errand was, and they were anxious to do all in their power
to make me comfortable.
Friends In Need.
I was in a most dilapidated condition, and was anything but a
presentable object, or one calculated to figure with advantage
at the breakfast-table of a respectable family. My clothing was
heavy with the night dews, and my skirts were bedraggled with dirt;
my shoes were nearly worn through, and were covered with mud; and,
taking me altogether, I was as forlorn a looking creature as could be
imagined.
My entertainers, however, knew how to excuse appearances;
and, understanding the situation thoroughly, they
would not permit me to make any excuses or apologies, but
insisted on my accepting such hospitalities as they had to offer, and
promised to procure me a change of clothing, so that I might make a
somewhat more presentable figure.
They accordingly gave me a room where I could make my toilet,
and sent a servant to wait on me, while they applied to a lady of the
neighborhood for some clothing that I might wear while my own was
being dried and cleansed. The lady complied with their requests with
the greatest alacrity, and sent me the best her wardrobe afforded,
being anxious to serve me in any manner in her power. As she was in
entire sympathy with the cause for which I was laboring, she refused
to receive any compensation, or to take back the clothing, when, at
nightfall, I prepared to resume my own, which, by diligent brushing
and rubbing, had been gotten into tolerably good condition again for
the purpose of returning to the city.
A wash, a change of garments, and a substantial breakfast
refreshed me immensely, and made me feel like another person. As it
was impossible for me to attempt to reach New Orleans without
running too many risks of discovery, or, at least, of being suspected,
except under cover of the night, and as I was sorely in need of rest,
my new-made friends insisted that I should remain where I was until
the proper time came for me to return.
Return To New Orleans.
I therefore went to bed, and slept a good part of the day, and
about eleven o'clock at night they provided me with a horse, and
escorted me to as near the outposts as I deemed it safe for them to
go. On our way, I gave them a number of points about the situation
of things in New Orleans, and informed them how they might, in
various ways, be of service to the Confederacy, if they were
disposed to extend the active workers all the aid that was in their
power. When the time came for bidding them farewell, I thanked them
in the warmest manner for their kindness to me; but they assured me
that the obligations were all on their side, and that they were only too
glad to assist, in any manner possible, a brave woman, who was willing
to venture, as I had done, for the purpose of advancing the welfare of
a cause which was a common one with us all.
After parting with the gentlemen, I made my way into the city on
foot, being as successful as on the night previous in
eluding the pickets. Having once got within the Federal lines again, I
hastened to the French market, where I obtained some breakfast, and
where I remained until the streets began to be filled with people,
before venturing to return to my room. My idea was to have any one
who might happen to take particular notice of me think that I had
been marketing. So, soon as I concluded that it would be safe for me
to show myself, I passed up St. Peter Street to Rampart Street, and
from thence to my room. On reaching my apartment I locked myself
in, and went to bed to take a good rest.
In the afternoon of the same day I wrote a note to one of the
officers of the thirty-first Massachusetts regiment, whose
acquaintance I had made shortly after the Federal occupation of the
city, and he very politely answered it by calling upon me. It was my
intention to let him know that I had been out of the city, so that, in
case any one should have been making a note of my movements,
with a view of reporting them at headquarters, there would be
somebody on hand who would be able to give my version of the
case, and thus probably prevent any investigation, and stifle
suspicion. I therefore, after a little general conversation, gave my
visitor to understand that I had been out of town; and on his
inquiring my whereabouts during my trip, I told him that I had been
to Carrolton, on a visit to a friend. He believed every word I told him,
without the slightest hesitation; and after some further talk about
matters of no moment, he went away, leaving me tolerably well
satisfied with having successfully accomplished my errand, and with
having taken all proper precaution to avoid getting into any trouble
about it.
Before Butler.
Unluckily for me, however, the very thing upon which I had not
calculated, and which I had no power to prevent, occurred. The
officer to whom I had intrusted my despatch was captured, and the
document was found upon his person. Through some means,
which I could not surmise, the provost marshal was informed that I
was the writer of the despatch, although the name signed to it was
not the one he knew me by. A negro was found, too, who swore that
he had seen me walking along the river, outside of the lines, and the
result was that I was placed under arrest, and taken before Butler himself.
Butler was not the handsomest man I ever saw in my life,
and he certainly looked the tyrant that he was. It was a
favorite amusement with him to browbeat people who were
brought before him, and he was remarkably skilful in terrifying
those who were weak enough to submit to being bullied by
him into making just the admission he wanted them to make.
I had heard a good deal about his peculiar methods of dealing
with those who had incurred his displeasure in any way, and
particularly with those who were suspected of furnishing the
Confederates with information concerning the situation within
the Federal lines, and I was therefore prepared, in a measure,
for the ordeal which I was now compelled to undergo.
I was determined to admit nothing that could not be distinctly
proved against me, to sustain to the last the character I had assumed,
and to fall back upon the protection which I felt sure my British
papers would afford me as a last resort. I promised myself that, so far
as any attempt to bully me, or to overcome me with threats were
concerned, the general would find me more than a match for him; and
the only trepidation I suffered in going before him grew out of my
uncertainty with regard to the extent of his information about my
proceedings. I felt, however, that it would be a safe course to admit
nothing, and to compel Butler to produce his proof, if he had any,
before making any acknowledgment whatever.
A Contest Of Wits.
Sure enough, when I was brought into his presence, he proceeded
on the theory that I was the person he wanted, and that I was guilty
of the charge made against me. He evidently thought the case was a
perfectly plain one, and that I would not attempt a denial. I, however,
kept cool, and refused to look at the matter from his point of view;
and, as none of the witnesses who appeared were able to swear
positively to my identity as the woman who had acted as the bearer
of the despatch found on the Confederate officer, I began to think
that I was going to get clear without a great deal of trouble.
Butler, however, was not one from whom it was easy to get away
when his suspicions were once aroused, and I saw plainly that he
was convinced of the fact that he had captured the right person this
time, and that his prisoner was a spy who had been giving him
serious annoyance. He was, therefore, resolved not to let me slip
through his fingers if he could help it; and finding that he could
not absolutely prove anything
against me, he concluded to try whether it would not be possible to
force me into committing myself.
When, therefore, instead of ordering my release, Butler settled his
podgy figure back in his chair, and, apparently, making a vigorous
attempt to look straight at me with both eyes at once, — an
impossibility, by the way, — said, with a harsh, grating voice, and
with what was intended to be an intensely satirical manner, "Well,
madam, you have shown your hand nicely; I have been wanting you
for some time past, and I propose to send you to Ship Island," — I felt
that the real ordeal was but just commencing.
Without permitting myself to be disconcerted, either by his manner
or by his threat, I replied, "I guess not; the law does not permit you
to sentence any one on mere hearsay or belief. and no evidence
has
been produced against me."
"Are you not guilty?" said Butler, blinking his eyes, and trying to
look as savage as possible.
"That is for you to prove, if you intend to punish me," I replied.
"It is very certain you have not succeeded in proving it yet."
"Come, come, madam, I don't want any of this nonsense," struck
in Butler, sharply. "I know you, and your tricks; and as your little
game is played out, you might as well confess, and be done with it."
"There is no difficulty about your finding out who I am," I
retorted. "My name, and residence, and circumstances are
well known to your officers, and have been ever since the
capture of the city. You have no proof against me, and I
have nothing to confess."
"Do you mean to say," continued the general, "that you are not
the writer of that letter, or that you did not smuggle it through the
lines?"
"I don't mean to say anything about it," I answered; "and I don't
mean to confess what I didn't do."
By this time Butler, seeing that he was not making much
headway with me, began to get angry, and he roared out,
"Well, madam, if you won't confess without compulsion, I'll
see whether I can't compel you. I'm tired of this sort of
thing, and I'm going to make an example of you for the
benefit of the other female spies who are hanging about this city."
I replied, as cool as possible, "You may get yourself into trouble,
sir, if you attempt to punish an innocent woman on a
false and scandalous charge like this, when there is not a particle of
evidence to sustain it."
This appeared to infuriate Butler more than ever; and, turning to
one of his officers, he gave an order that I should be locked up in a
cell in the Custom House until my case was investigated further.
When I heard this order I turned to him with all the dignity I could
command, and said, "One word, sir; you will please to understand
that I am a British subject, and that I claim the protection of the
British flag."
Butler, who displayed a particular antipathy to foreigners, and
especially to the English, on all occasions, blurted out, "We will see
about that; I don't care for Johnny Bull;" and then turning to the
officer he said, "Take that woman to the Custom House."
This ended the investigation, and I left the presence of the
general, feeling tolerably well satisfied with having got the best of
him thus far, but dubious about the ultimate issue of the affair, for I
was confident that he would make an endeavor to fasten the charge
on me in such a manner that there would be no escape; and I knew
that if he once got possession of the right clew, he could easily
obtain plenty of evidence against me; for, notwithstanding all my
precautions, there were necessarily a number of persons in the city
who were, to a greater or less degree, informed with regard to my
movements, and some of them, I feared, might tell what they knew if
they were put under cross-examination, backed up by a liberal use of
threats.
I, however, was not disposed to vex myself with troubles before
they came, and preserved my equanimity, trusting to my usual good
luck to bring my present difficulties to a satisfactory conclusion.
The officer in whose charge I was placed was a gentleman in every
respect, and he treated me in the most courteous manner while
escorting me to the Custom House, apologizing for being compelled
to perform so unpleasant a duty; and, on our arrival at the building
which was to serve as my prison, he procured a nice camp bed for my
cell, and in other ways tried to make me as comfortable as
circumstances would permit. He ordered that my meals should be
sent me regularly, and promised that an effort would be made to
prevent my incarceration from being any more unpleasant than was
absolutely necessary.
The behavior of this gentleman was in striking contrast to
that of his chief, and I felt very grateful to him, as I did, also, to
several unknown ladies, who sent me a number of little luxuries that
aided materially in making my imprisonment endurable. Before the
officer left me, I asked him if I could not be permitted to have the use
of writing materials. He said that he had no authority to grant such a
request, but that he would see what could be done for me, as it
would give him pleasure to oblige me by every means in his power.
A friend of mine, Sergeant B., hearing that I was imprisoned, came
to see me, and on my expressing a great desire to have some pens,
ink, and paper, he promised to procure them and slip them in to me.
He also said that he would carry any message I might desire to send
to my friends outside. I thanked him, and requested him to try and let
me have some writing materials as soon as possible. He therefore
procured them, and I immediately wrote a note to Mr. Coppell, the
British consul, in which I explained my situation briefly, and asked
his assistance.
Mr. Coppell called upon me at once, and I, claiming that I was a
British subject, and under imprisonment by General Butler's personal
order, although nothing whatever had been proven against me,
asked his protection and his influence for a release without more
delay. He promised to do what he could for me, and asked for my
proofs of British citizenship. I therefore gave him my trunk key and
the number of my room, with a description of the papers I had
purchased in view of just such an emergency as this, and he having
obtained them went to Butler's headquarters to demand my liberation.
Released From Prison.
I do not know what passed between the consul and the general,
but the result of the interview was an order for my release, and I
accordingly walked out of the Custom House under Mr. Coppell's
escort, and with all the rebel in me exultant at having got the better
of Butler.
I understood plainly that my operations as a spy in New Orleans
were now at an end, and that the safest and best thing I could do, if I
did not want to get into further trouble, would be to leave the city at
the earliest possible moment. There was, however, no longer any
necessity for keeping my rebel sympathies concealed, and I was
really glad of an opportunity to let them be seen. As we were going
out of the
Custom House I heard some one bragging how they were going to
thrash Johnny Bull, and I could not resist the temptation of turning
to Mr. Coppell, who must also have heard the remark and saying,
"That fellow must be crazy. He and his friends had better wipe out
secession first, before they talk about whipping Johnny Bull." I said
this loud enough for everbody to hear me, and it made the speaker and
others around us furious, and elicited several retorts, at which we only
laughed. This was a foolish proceeding on my part, but I could not help
taking a bit of womanly revenge on my enemies for what they had done to me.
Having obtained my freedom again, I prepared to forsake New
Orleans, and applied for a pass. This, however, was refused me; and
I saw that if I intended to get out of Butler's power so as to be able to
resume operations either as a spy or as a Confederate officer, it
would be necessary for me to run the blockade. Situated as I was, and
under suspicion of being a spy, this, I was well aware, would be a
particularly risky thing to attempt; but there was no alternative left me
except to either attempt it, or else remain in the city in idleness, and in
constant danger of having some of my many previous transactions,
in the way of carrying information to the Confederates, found out. I
felt very certain that if Butler did succeed in discovering who I was,
and in fastening upon me, beyond a doubt, any charge of a similar
nature to the one I had just eluded, I would not get off so easily as I
had done in my first controversy with him, and I therefore concluded
that I ran a greater risk in remaining in New Orleans than I did in
attempting to leave it surreptitiously.
Having made up my mind to leave, and to leave as expeditiously as
I conveniently could, I proceeded to make the
necessary arrangements, taking care to attract as little attention as
possible. The provisioning of New Orleans was a
serious problem with the military rulers of the city; and in
order to keep the markets supplied, even in a moderate degree, with
the necessities of life, they were compelled to
permit some intercourse with the surrounding country and
boats for the conveyance of food even ran between New Orleans and
Mobile, under certain stringent regulations, which,
however, were unable to prevent them from being used by
the agents of the Confederate States in a manner that Butler
did not approve. Communication, therefore, between the
city and country was always possible, although to attempt
anything of the kind without a pass, subjected the wayfarer to a
liability of being suspected and punished as a spy.
I had made a goodly number of trips in different directions,
sometimes with passes and sometimes without, and consequently
knew exactly how to proceed, and what were the
difficulties to be overcome. The chief danger to be apprehended I
knew would be from the Federal patrols, who were becoming more and
more vigilant every day, as resolute efforts were being made to break
up the Confederate spy system, and the illicit traffic which many
persons of both sexes were engaged in carrying on, to the great
discomfort of the Federal occupants of the city. I had also something
to fear lest any agent whom I might employ to aid me in making my
escape should prove treacherous, either through hope of gain or a
desire to win the favor of Butler. On this last score, however, I had
comparatively few apprehensions, as I was prepared to pay a good
round sum to any one who would be willing to perform for me the
services I needed, and I knew well that some of the stanchest
adherents of the Confederacy were to be found among the poor white
population of New Orleans and vicinity. I know that if I could once
make the other side of Lake Pontchartrain I would be safe, and that
there would be fewer risks to run in attempting an escape in that
direction than in any other. I accordingly laid my plans for a trip
across the lake, with a view of striking a point near the railroad, so
that I could reach Jackson with the least inconvenience.
Going down to the lake, I found a fisherman who was pursuing his
avocation under a permit from Butler, and taking advantage of an
opportunity to speak to him when our conversation could not be
overheard, I asked, "Do any rebels ever cross the lake without
papers?"
"Yes," said he, "sometimes."
"Do you think that you could take me over if I were to make it
worth your while?" said I.
"Are you a reb?" he, questioned, looking at me sharply.
"They say I am," I answered.
"Well, I might take you over if you will pay enough."
"I'll give you a good deal more than you can get for any
job you do for the Federals."
"All right, then," said he; and without more argument we
struck a bargain, and arranged time and place of meeting, my
boatman giving me some directions how to proceed so as to
avoid attracting attention, from which I inferred that this was not the
first time he had been engaged in running the blockade.
Going home, I put on two complete suits of clothing, as it would
not have answered for me to have carried any baggage, or even a
small package, and secreted about my person all the Confederate
money I had purchased, about nine thousand dollars in greenbacks,
and my jewelry. At the appointed time I was at the rendezvous, and
saw my boatman waiting. Fearful, however, of being apprehended
just as I was about to start, I did not show myself at first, but crept
cautiously through the bushes until I could see whether any one was
observing my movements. Finding the coast apparently clear, I made
a signal to the man, and he approached and took me into the boat.
Getting Away From New Orleans.
In a moment more the sail was hoisted, and we were speeding over
the lake before a good breeze, which promised, ere a great while, to
waft me beyond Butler's jurisdiction, and enable me once more to
give the Confederacy the benefit of my services.
I had a reasonable amount of confidence in the fidelity of the
boatman, but at the same time was determined to be prepared against
any attempt at treachery on his part. I had, accordingly, provided
myself with a six-shooter, and had taken pains to see that it was
loaded, and all in condition for instant use, before leaving my room.
On taking my seat in the boat I placed my hand on this weapon, and
was resolved to put it to the head of the man if he showed the
slightest indication of a desire to betray me. I had no fancy for a
sojourn on Ship Island, and would, without the slightest hesitation,
have used my revolver freely before submitting to a capture. The man
however, was faithful enough, and with the prospect of a liberal
reward before him, he was only eager to reach the other side of the
lake as soon as he could, and to avoid the Federal patrols in doing so.
Fortune favored us, and it was not long before we were out of the
reach of immediate danger, and in a fair way to make the Mississippi
shore without being interfered with. On landing I paid the boatman
his money, according to the bargain I had made with him, and started
off for the nearest railroad
station for the purpose of going to Jackson. Thus ended my
career in New Orleans as a Confederate spy. It was a successful one,
taking all things into consideration, but I was not sorry to get away,
and considered myself fortunate in being able to make my escape
with as much ease as I did.
CHAPTER XXII.
CARRYING DESPATCHES.
Uncertainties of the Military Situation. — I go to
Jackson, Mississippi. — Burning of the Bowman House in that place by
Breckenridge's Soldiers. — The
unpleasant Position in which Non-combatants were placed. — A Visit to the
Camp of General Dan. Adams, and Interview with that Officer. — I visit
Hazlehurst, and carry a Message to General Gardner at Port
Hudson. — Recovery of my Negro Boy Bob. — General Van Dorn's Raid
on Holly Springs. — I resolve to Return to Virginia. — The Results
of two Years of
Warfare. — Dark Days for the Confederacy. — Fighting against
Hope.
N
leaving New Orleans I had no very definite plans for the immediate future,
my hurried departure, as well as my lack of knowledge with regard to the exact
details of the military situation, having prevented me from forming
any. I was, therefore, rather at a loss exactly how to proceed, but did not doubt
of my ability to find a field for the display of my talents ere a great while. I was
now more intent than ever upon being employed on detective and scouting duty,
for which my recent residence in New Orleans had been an excellent schooling;
so excellent, indeed, that I considered myself as well out of my apprenticeship,
and as quite competent to assume all the responsibilities of the most difficult or
dangerous jobs that might be thrust upon me.
I did not doubt that
there would be plenty of work for me to do, for throughout the
entire West military matters seemed to be in a very mixed condition, and
the different
armies, both Confederate and Federal, so broken up and scattered, that
it
must have taxed the energies of the commanding officers on both
sides to have kept the run of each other's movements. The Federals,
by their victories at Fort Donelson and Shiloh, and several other
points, had succeeded in forcing both the first and second
Confederate lines of defence, and in penetrating to the heart of the
portion of the Confederacy west of
the mountains, but they had not been able to complete the conquest
they were aiming at; and the possession of the Mississippi — that
coveted prize for both parties — was something for which there was
still to be done some hard fighting.
I judged that matters ought soon to be approaching a crisis
somewhere, although exactly what definite aims the belligerents were
driving at, if, indeed, they had any just then, I could not comprehend.
I resolved, if a grand movement of any kind was coming off, that I
must have a hand in it in some shape; but that if something of importance
was not attempted before a great while I would return to Virginia, and see
what fortune had in store for me there. I judged, however, that I would not have much
difficulty in finding work to do in the west, if I went about looking
for it in the right way; and I knew of no better locality in which to
seek the information I needed before commencing operations in the
field again than Jackson.
To Jackson, therefore, I went, with what haste I could, and arrived
just in time to witness an occurrence for which I was sincerely sorry.
This was the burning of the Bowman House by Breckenridge's men,
who were infuriated at being told that the proprietor had permitted the
Federals to occupy the hotel, and that he had entertained them at one
third less than he had charged the Confederates who had claimed his
hospitalities. The unfortunate man was in reality not to blame in the
matter, for the Federals had occupied his house without his consent,
and he had taken just what they chose to give him, thinking it better
to pocket less than his dues than nothing; and fearing to make any
complaint, either about their presence in the hotel, or the money they
offered him, lest they should take it into their heads to play him some
such trick as the Confederates subsequently did.
The Sufferings Of Non-Combatants.
This incident will serve to show the desperately unpleasant
position of the non-combatants throughout this whole region at this
and later periods of the war. They were literally between two fires;
and no matter how peaceably disposed they might be, they could
satisfy neither party, and were made to suffer by both. The
proprietor of the Bowman House was forced to witness a fine
property destroyed before his eyes through the reckless and
unthinking anger of men who never
stopped to inquire whether he was guilty or not of any offence against
them or their cause before taking vengeance upon him. He was
reduced to poverty by the burning of his hotel, and I could not help
feeling the keenest regret or the occurrence, although I recognized it
as one of the inevitable calamities of warfare.
I was, myself, in the hotel when it was fired, and barely succeeded
in escaping from the building with my life. Not expecting any such
occurrence, I had taken rooms, and was proceeding to make myself
comfortable, when, all of a sudden, I found that it was in flames, and
that it would be as much as I could do to get out unscathed. The men
who fired the building did not give the proprietor an opportunity to
make explanations, or if they did, they refused to believe him.
Knowing what the passions of men engaged in warfare are, and how
little consideration they are disposed to give those who are
suspected of aiding the enemy, I was not altogether surprised at this
action, but I thought the officers in command might have succeeded
in restraining their soldiers until the exact truth of the matter could
have been ascertained.
The next day after this occurrence I visited the camp of General
Dan. Adams, from who I gained a number of points which were
useful to me in making my arrangements for the future. He gave me a
tolerably definite idea of how things stood, and advised me what
course to take if I wanted to go into active service again. Among
other things, he said it was understood that the Federal General
Grierson was on a raid in the direction of Natchez, but he thought he
would most likely have a speedy stop put to that kind of performance.
As for himself, he told me that he had been ordered to re-enforce
General Joe Johnston at Big Black, and that he expected to start for
that point shortly. Exactly what was on foot he did not know, but
thought it likely that the Federals were about to make an attempt on
Vicksburg, and that Johnston intended to be well prepared to receive
them in his best style.
Several times already had the Federals made attacks of greater or
less importance on Vicksburg, which city was now the most
important position held by the Confederacy, and commanding the
Mississippi River as it did, its possession was considered a matter of
the most vital importance. The fall of Vicksburg, everybody knew,
would practically give the Federals possession of the river
throughout its entire length;
and as such a calamity would, just at this particular junction, be an
even greater blow to the Confederate cause than the fall of New
Orleans had been, every exertion was being made to render it
impregnable. That sooner or later the Federals would make a more
determined effort than they had done previously to take this post,
appeared to be certain; but the natural advantages of the position were
such, and the fortifications in course of construction were so strong, and
were being rendered stronger with each succeeding day, that the
utmost confidence in the ability of the garrison to hold it was felt by
every one.
This confidence, unfortunately, was as ill-founded as had been
that felt with regard to other posts; and although the siege of
Vicksburg was a heavy task for the Federals to undertake, they did
undertake it, and they succeeded in their efforts after a protracted
and desperate conflict, in which the Confederates, although
ultimately compelled to surrender, won fresh laurels for their
pertinacity in fighting, until all hope of prolonging the contest was gone.
Having heard all that General Adams had to say, I took the train for
Hazlehurst, and from there I went to a portion of Logan's command
and took a look at things, stopping all night with the family of Mayor
Wallis. It was here that Lieutenant Colonel Blackburn, of General
Grierson's command, was killed subsequently, when that Federal
officer made his great raid in April, 1863.
From Hazlehurst I pushed on towards Port Hudson with a
message for General Gardner, but was met at Clinton by the special
courier of that commander, and delivering the message to him, I
hastened back to Jackson.
On my arrival at Jackson I heard of my negro boy Bob, for the first
time since I had lost him, just after the battle of Shiloh. I therefore
proceeded to Grenada, where I found the darkey, who appeared to be
heartily glad to see me again after such a long separation. Bob, it seems,
had gone plump into a Federal camp, having missed his road, after I had
started him off for Corinth; but not liking the company he found there, had slipped
away at the earliest opportunity, and had wandered about in a rather aimless
manner for some time, seeking for me. Not being able to hear anything of me,
he had made up his mind that I was dead, and was quite surprised to see me turn
up again alive and well.
At Jackson I found General Lowering in command, and heard that
General Van Dorn had surprised the Federals at Holly Springs, and
had captured the entire force there, and an immense quantity of
supplies of every description. This event took place on the 20th of
April, 1863, and was one of the most brilliant affairs of the whole
campaign. The Federals had made Holly Springs a base of supplies,
and had collected there everything that was needed for the
maintenance of the army in the operations against Vicksburg; but Van
Dorn, by one bold and skilfully executed movement, succeeded in
giving the impoverished Confederates provisions and munitions of
war which they sorely needed, and in damaging the Federals more
than a hard-fought battle would have done.
Facing Eastward Again.
From Grenada, I returned once more to Jackson, and found the
place in considerable excitement over the prospective army
movements; but as there did not seem to be much for me to do in the
particular line of business I desired to take up, I now determined to put
my old intention of returning to Virginia into execution; and as having
once made up my mind to a certain line of action, I was not in the
habit of long delaying over it, I was soon speeding eastward again on
my way to Richmond.
I should have mentioned, that after leaving New Orleans, I resumed
male attire at the earliest possible moment, and figured once more as
Lieutenant Harry T. Buford. Perhaps if I had gone to General
Johnston, or some other commanding officer of high rank, and frankly
stated that I was a woman, giving at the same time a narrative of my
exploits, and furnishing references as guarantees of the truthfulness
of my story, I would have obtained the kind of employment I was
looking for, with permission to use the garments of either sex, as I
might deem expedient for the particular errand I had in hand. I
sometimes thought that this was what I should have done; but I
could not overcome my repugnance to making any one a confidant of
my secret, even if by so doing I would have advanced my own
interests. In the then condition of affairs, when the different
commands were fully organized and disciplined, my position as an
independent was even more anomalous than it was at the
commencement of the war,
and as in the conduct of the peculiar operations then in progress,
the generals were necessarily obliged to be particular in whom they
confided, it was scarcely to be wondered at that one who, like
myself, was endeavoring to play the part of a free-lance, should
receive comparatively little countenance.
I appreciated the situation, and yet I could not help being
disappointed, that one who had done so well by the Confederacy as
myself, and who was so willing to undertake difficult and hazardous
tasks, should get such little encouragement, and so I resolved to
abandon the west, for the present at least. In Virginia, I thought that I
would be likely to have a better chance for distinguishing myself, if
only for the reason that the operations of the contending forces were
confined to a more limited space than they were in the region I was
leaving. I had an idea, too, that in case my claims to consideration at
the hands of the authorities were not admitted with the promptness I
desired, I would be able to do some business in the way of running
through the lines on my own account, just for my own satisfaction,
and for the sake of showing what I was capable of.
Once past the Confederate pickets, I believed that I could easily
reach Washington; and I felt certain that a skilful spy, such as I
esteemed myself now to be, could, without great difficulty, find out
plenty of things which the Richmond authorities would be glad to
know, and for the furnishing of which they would be glad to extend
me such recognition as I desired. The military situation in Virginia,
too, was more satisfactory than it was in the west, and I had a
hankering to be where the Confederates were occasionally winning
some victories. Since I had been in the west, I had witnessed little
else than disaster, and I greatly desired to take a hand in a fight
when the victory would rest with the Confederates, if only for the
sake of variety.
My experiences since leaving New Orleans had not been
particularly fruitful, for although I performed several services in
satisfactory style for officers to whose notice I brought myself, no
opportunity had offered for me to do anything of special moment, or
to show the full extent of my capabilities, and, as there did not seem,
from the condition things were in, that anything was to be gained by
remaining, I was not sorry to leave for the scene of my first exploits
as a Confederate soldier.
The war had now been in progress nearly two years, and,
although the South had not been conquered, affairs were
beginning to look decidedly blue for us. All our fine expectations
of an easy achievement of our independence had long
since vanished, and the situation every day was getting more
and more desperate. The country was becoming exhausted,
and had not its natural resources been enormous, our people
must, ere this, have given up the contest. As it was, with a
large portion of the male population in the field, and with
heavy drafts being constantly made upon it to fill the ranks of
the armies, the cultivation of the ground was neglected, and
the necessities of life every day became scarcer and dearer.
We were shut out, too, owing to the stringency of the Federal
blockade, from anything like regular intercourse with Europe,
and all kinds of manufactured articles, and the food we had
been accustomed to import, were held at such enormous
figures, that they were utterly beyond the reach of any but
the most wealthy. The suffering among the poorer classes in
all parts of the South was very great, and in those portions
which had been devastated by the tramp of the different
armies, many of the people were very nearly on the verge
of starvation.
A Serious Question.
It was fast becoming a serious question, how long the contest
could be prolonged, unless some signal advantage could speedily be
achieved in the field by the Confederate forces. It is impossible to
express in words how eagerly all classes looked for the achievement
of some such advantage, and how bitter was the disappointment, as
month after month wore away, and in spite of occasional victories,
the people saw, day by day, the Federals drawing their lines closer
and closer, and slowly, but surely, closing in upon them.
We were now entering upon the desperate stage of the war, when
the contest was conducted almost against hope, and had the South
been inhabited by a less determined race, or one less animated by a
fixed resolve to fight to the very last, and until it was impossible to
fight any longer, the Federal forces would have succeeded long ere
they did in compelling a surrender of the Confederate armies. The
men who commanded the armies, however, were not the sort to give
up until they were absolutely defeated, and it was starvation, rather
than the Federal arms, that at length forced the
contest to the conclusion it reached, by the surrender of the armies
under the command of Lee and Johnston.
Bad as was the situation at the time of which I am writing, and
worse as it was shortly made by the surrender of Vicksburg, and
other disasters in the west, and by the lamentable conclusion of Lee's
invasion of Pennsylvania, the Confederates fought on for two years
longer, with a heroic contempt for defeat, that won for them the
admiration of the world. History does not record any such
magnificent resistance as the South made; and however opinions
may differ with regard to the original merit of the quarrel, not even the
bitterest enemies of the Confederate cause can refuse to admit that it
was defended with splendid courage.
But it is no part of my purpose to produce a history of the war.
The story of the great contest has been written by abler pens than
mine. I only aim at giving in plain language an unadorned narrative of
the personal experiences of a single adherent of the
Confederacy — experiences which gain their chief interest from the
fact that they
were different in a marked degree from those of any other participant
in the war on either side, and I can only hope that the story of my
adventures has proved sufficiently attractive to the reader to induce
a perusal of it to the end.
CHAPTER XXIII.
UNDER ARREST AGAIN.
Commencement of a new Campaign. — Return to Richmond, and
Arrest on
Suspicion of being a Woman. — Imprisonment in Castle
Thunder. — Kindness
to me of Major G. W. Alexander and his Wife. — I refuse to resume the
Garments of my Sex. — I am released, and placed on Duty in the Secret
Service Corps. — General Winder, the Chief of the Secret Service
Bureau. — A
remarkable Character. — General Winder sends me with blank Despatches
to
General Van Dorn to try me. — A Member of the North Carolina Home
Guards attempts to arrest me at Charlotte. — I resist the Arrest, and am
permitted to proceed. — The Despatches delivered to Van Dorn in
Safety. — My Arrest in Lynchburg. — The Rumors that were in
Circulation about me. — I am pestered with curious Visitors. — A
couple of Ladies deceived by a simple
trick. — A comical Interview with an old Lady. — She declares
herself insulted. —
An insulting Letter from a general Officer. — My indignant Reply, and
offer
to fight him. — I obtain my Release, and leave
Lynchburg.
WAS
now about to commence a new campaign, and to enter upon
experiences of another kind from those through which I had just
passed. The condition of affairs was materially different in an infinite
number of ways from what it had been when I first sought the
Confederate capital with rather vague dreams of glory floating
through my brain, but with considerable confidence that the Federal
forces, against whom the brave boys of the South were marching,
would melt away before them, and that I and my comrades in arms
would, ere many days, have the flag of the Confederacy floating from
the dome of the Capitol at Washington, and, perhaps, indulge in a
march through a portion of the North, just for the sake of convincing the
Yankees that they had been rash in meddling with us.
Well, we met the forces sent out against us by the Federal
government, and long before the close of the day they were running
back as fast as their legs would take them to their intrenchments
before Washington. The flag-raising on the Capitol,
and the march through the North, were deferred by those who
were managing affairs on our side to a more convenient opportunity,
and the grand chance for winning the great stakes for which we were
fighting was lost, never to be regained. Just as at Shiloh, the
hesitation to follow up a brilliant victory, and make it complete by
the capture or annihilation of the enemy, lost us the field, and
inflicted upon us a most humiliating defeat, so at Bull Run, a similar
hesitating policy lost us not merely the substantial results of victory,
but inflicted upon us four years' of slaughter, during which the Federals
closed in upon us gradually, until at length they were able to crush us.
I mean no disparagement to the brave soldiers and the skilful
commanders on the Federal side, when I express the opinion that, as
a rule, the Confederates were better fighters, and were better
officered, than their opponents. There was inefficiency somewhere,
however, in the management of military affairs on our side. We never
seemed to be able to follow up our successes, or to gain permanent
results from our victories, no matter how brilliant they might be. The
Federals, on the other hand, had a way of staying, when they once
got to a place, that was most disheartening; and one after another the
strongest and most important of the Confederate posts fell into
their hands, never to be regained, until finally they won the grand
prize for which, during four long, weary years, vast armies had
contended in vain, and, by the capture of Richmond, virtually ended
the contest.
At the time of which I am writing, however, the capture of
Richmond, although constantly threatened, was a long way off yet,
and some trying days were to come before the abandonment of the
capital would give the signal to Southern hearts, weary of strife, but
hoping against hope, that even Hope itself was dead.
Richmond, however, was a very different place from what it was
on my last visit to it, as I soon found to my cost. Martial law was in
force in its most rigorous aspect, and General Winder, the chief of the
secret service bureau, and his emissaries, were objects of terror to
everybody, rich and poor. Beleaguered as Richmond was, every
person was more or less an object of suspicion, and strangers,
especially, were watched with a vigilance that left them few
opportunities to do mischief, or were put under arrest, and placed in
close confinement, without scruple, if Winder or his officers took it into
their heads that this would be the most expeditious way of disposing
of them.
Under Arrest In Richmond.
It is not surprising, therefore, that almost immediately upon my
arrival in Richmond I fell under the surveillance of Winder as a
suspicious character, and was called upon to give an account of
myself. My story was not accepted in the same spirit of credibility
that some rather tough yarns I had manufactured in the course of my
career, for the purpose of satisfying the curiosity of inquisitive
people, had been. The fact that my secret had already been several
times discovered, was against me to begin with; then my disguise
was not in as good order as it had been when I first assumed it; and
my papers were not of such a definite character as to inspire respect
in the minds of the Richmond police authorities. There was,
evidently, something suspicious and mysterious about me; and,
suspicion having once been excited, some lynx-eyed detective was
not long in noting certain feminine ways I had, and which even my
long practice in figuring as a man had not enabled me to get rid of;
and the result was, that I was arrested on the charge of being a
woman in disguise, and supposably a Federal spy, and was
conducted to Castle Thunder, to reflect upon the mutabilities of
fortune, until I could give a satisfactory account of myself.
I thought that this was rather hard lines; but as good luck often
comes to us in the guise of present tribulation, as matters turned out
it was the very best thing that could have happened to me, for it
compelled me to reveal myself and my plans to persons who were
willing and able to aid me, and to tell my story to friendly and
sympathetic ears.
The commander of Castle Thunder was Major G. W. Alexander, a
gentleman who, ever since I made his acquaintance through being
committed to his custody as a prisoner, I have always been proud to
number among my best and most highly-esteemed friends. Major
Alexander, and his lovely wife, both showed the greatest interest in
me, and they treated me with such kindness and consideration that I
was induced to tell them exactly who I was, what my purposes were
in assuming the male garb, what adventures I had passed through,
and what my aspirations were for the future. They not only believed
my story, but thinking that my services to the Confederacy
merited better treatment than I was then receiving at the hands
of the authorities, interested themselves greatly in my behalf.
Both the major and his wife — but the lady, especially — seemed to be
shocked, however, at the idea of a woman dressing herself in the garb
of the other sex, and attempting to play the part of a soldier; and they
eagerly urged me to resume the proper costume of my sex again,
assuring me that there would be plenty of work for me to do, if I were
disposed still to devote myself to the service of the Confederacy. The
major, however, was evidently impressed with the narrative I had
given him of my exploits, and was convinced that if regularly enlisted
in the secret service corps I would be able to render assistance of the
first value. He, however, was urgent that I should abandon my
disguise, and represented, in forcible terms, the dangers I ran in persisting in
wearing it.
To these remonstrances I turned a deaf ear. I had passed through
too many real trials to be frightened by imaginary
ones, and I did not like to change my costume under compulsion. I
accordingly refused positively to put on the garments of a woman,
except as a means of gaining my liberty, and with
the full intention of resuming male attire at the earliest opportunity.
Major Alexander, therefore, finding me fixed in my determination to
have my own way, undertook to have matters arranged to my
satisfaction without putting me to the necessity of discarding my
disguise, in representing my case to General Winder, and inducing
him to give me a trial in his corps.
In The Secret Service.
General Winder ordered my release, and, assigning me to a
position in the secret service corps, he proceeded to play a very
characteristic trick upon me, for the purpose of testing my fidelity and
my abilities. The trick was neatly played; but I got the best of the
general to such an extent that he was tolerably well convinced that I
was both trustworthy, and that I was quite wide awake enough to
take good care of myself even against such a sharp practitioner as
himself.
General Winder was one of the most remarkable men I became
acquainted with during my whole career as an officer and a spy in the
Confederate service. He was a venerable, pleasant-looking old
gentleman, with white hair, and a rather
agreeable expression of countenance that was well calculated to
deceive superficial observers with regard to his real character. He
had a most confiding, plausible way about him, and an air of general
benevolence, that completely masked the hardness of his heart, and
imposed so on his victims, that, until they found themselves fairly
caught in his cunningly-laid traps, they were unwilling to believe him
to be the desperate old sinner he really was. Calculated as General
Winder was to leave a favorable impression at first glance, he would
not bear inspection. No man of strongly-marked character can long
conceal his real self from those who are accustomed to study human
nature; and a very slight acquaintance with Winder sufficed to
convince me that he was a dangerous man to trifle with, and that
cruelty and rapacity were among his predominant traits. His eyes
were hard, cold, and piercing, and there was a wicked twist about his
mouth that was far from being reassuring. I do not believe that man
had such a thing as a conscience; that he was utterly unscrupulous
with regard to the means he took for the accomplishment of his ends,
I know. He was a most valuable officer, however, and I doubt whether
another individual in the whole Confederacy could have been found
who would have commanded the secret service corps with the signal
ability he did.
General Winder Plays A Trick On Me.
Such was the new commander under whom I was now to go on
duty, and who, when he consented to release me from prison, and
give me employment, prepared as pretty a trap as was ever devised
for catching an innocent. The trap was sprung in first-rate style, but
the intended victim was agile enough to slip through the wires, and
the result was that General Winder had nothing but his trouble for
his pains. I believe it would have delighted him to have caught me,
much more than it did to have it proved, by his ingeniously-arranged
device, that I was all that I pretended to be, and that the
probabilities were all in favor of my being able to become a most
efficient ally.
I was a little taken in by Winder's plausible manner at first, and I
really did not have a fair chance of studying his character before I
was compelled to submit myself to the test which he prepared for
me. From what I saw and heard of him, however, I easily arrived at
the conclusion that he was
a hard customer to deal with, and that I would have to be unusually
wary if I wanted to avoid getting into trouble with him. I had,
however, unlimited confidence in my own abilities, and accepted the
commission he gave me as a secret service agent with a determination
to carry out my instructions to the letter at all hazards.
Furnishing me with transportation, General Winder started me off
with despatches for General Earl Van Dorn. The despatches were
simply a lot of blank papers, and a letter explaining the little game
Winder was playing with me.
A North Carolina Militia-Man Tries To Arrest Me.
Unsuspicious of any evil intentions on the part of the white-headed,
benevolent-looking old gentleman, I hastened to execute my
orders, but suddenly found myself brought up at Charlotte, N. C.,
with a round turn, as the sailors say. Winder had telegraphed to the
provost marshal at Charlotte to have me arrested; and accordingly,
when the train stopped at that place, a gawky member of the North
Carolina home-guard put in an appearance, took me into custody, and
demanded the papers I had in my pocket. It now flashed upon me that
Winder had put up a job on me, and I resolved that he should not
have the satisfaction of succeeding, if I could help it.
I accordingly measured my captor with my eye, and saw at a glance
that he was not the brightest-witted specimen ever created, and
concluded that if I only put on enough dignity I would have no
serious difficulty in getting the best of him. It was evidently
somewhat of a novelty for the tar-heeled home-guarder to arrest an
officer; and while he felt the importance of the occasion immensely,
he was in some degree of trepidation, especially when he saw that I
was not disposed to acknowledge his authority.
I refused to give up the papers, and demanded, in the severest
manner I could command, what right he had to undertake to make the
arrest of an officer of the Confederate army travelling under orders.
He showed me his orders, which I was forced to acknowledge were
correct, but still declined either to give up the papers or to submit to
an arrest.
I, however, promptly offered to return to Richmond with them, and
report at headquarters to General Winder.
This completely nonplussed him, and he was in a terrible
quandary. His orders to arrest me were positive, and he was
confident that there was something wrong about me. My prompt
offer to return and see Winder, however, convinced him that there
must be some mistake, and he was in an agony to know what course
he had better pursue.
I pitied the poor fellow's perplexity, but could scarcely help from
laughing in his face at his desperate stupidity. He blinked his eyes at
a terrible rate, and great drops of sweat oozed from his forehead,
which he wiped off with the sleeve of his jacket, as he tried to argue
the matter with me. I, however, would not give in in the least, and
seeing that he did not have the slightest comprehension of the duties
of his office, and was puzzled to know what to do, I suggested that a
telegraphic despatch should be sent back to headquarters, asking for
further instructions. This settled the case effectually; and with a little
further parley I was released, and was soon on my way again. I don't
know whether Winder ever took any notice of this most admirable
exhibition of inefficiency on the part of the gallant defender of the
homes of Charlotte, but I thought that if I were in his place, I would
take some pains to discipline this particular tar-heel into some
adequate appreciation of the necessity for obeying orders, no matter
who was hurt. The adventure afforded me considerable amusement,
when I was well through with it, and I could not but laugh whenever
the comical expression of the puzzled North Carolinian presented itself
to my mind's eye.
Without more interruption or delay I proceeded on my journey,
and finally reached General Van Dorn, to whom I delivered my
package of supposed despatches. He read Winder's letter, and looked
through the lot of blanks which had accompanied them; then,
glancing at me, he burst into a laugh, which indicated that he saw
something funny in the proceeding, and after a few questions, he
ordered me to return. This might be good fun for Van Dorn and
Winder; but I did not particularly admire having been sent all this
distance on such a fool's errand, and was very much disposed to
resent it. A little reflection, however, told me that it was none of my
business what the pretended despatches were, and that as I had
accomplished my errand according to order, and without falling into
the snare that General Winder himself had evidently set for me, I had
every reason to be satisfied, and would probably find, on getting
back to Richmond, that he was satisfied also.
I was anxious to reach Richmond at as early a day as possible, for I
heard a number of rumors which induced me to
believe that another great battle was shortly to be fought, and
I was immediately seized with a furious desire to be on hand for the
purpose of taking part in it. Despite the terrible
scenes through which I had passed, despite the severe wound I had
received, and from which my arm was still stiff, the prospect of
joining in another fight had an irresistible fascination for me.
I found, however, on reaching Richmond, that there
was no present chance for a battle, and consequently settled myself
down as contentedly as possible to do whatever work might be
assigned me in the secret service department.
It seemed to be an impossibility for me now to avoid getting
into continual trouble about my disguise. Not only were a number of
people fully informed of all the particulars of my career since the
outbreak of the war, but it began to be whispered about among the
soldiers and citizens that a woman dressed as a man had been discovered,
and some highly-exaggerated rumors with regard to my exploits were
diligently circulated. My having received a wound, shortly after the
battle of Shiloh, appeared to be a particularly attractive episode to
the minds of many people; and my performances at that battle were
believed, in some quarters, to have been of a most extraordinary nature.
Indeed, I do not know but that some people thought me the
commander-in-chief of the Confederate forces on the occasion, while
I was credited with exploits of unparalleled heroism.
Inconveniences Of Celebrity.
This sort of rather indefinite celebrity might have amused me, and
pleased my vanity, were it not the source of much annoyance. Not
only did the report that this woman-soldier had come to Virginia have
a tendency to attract attention to me, and to excite suspicions that
might never have occurred to any one, but the extraordinary
vigilance that was exercised on all sides to prevent spies from
pursuing their occupations in safety, and to prevent deserters from
escaping, was sure to occasion me troubles of various kinds. I felt
out of the reach of serious danger, it is true, having been assigned to duty in
the secret service corps by General Winder; but the fact of my being
in this corps would not prevent my arrest and detention at any time if
somebody should take a fancy to believe that I was not all that my
outward appearances represented.
I was vexed, therefore, but scarcely surprised, when, shortly after
my return from my trip to Van Dorn's headquarters, on taking a run
over to Lynchburg, I was again arrested on the charge of
being a woman in disguise. My sword was taken from me, and I
was otherwise treated with a good deal more rudeness than I thought
there was any occasion for; and this treatment had the effect of
making me obstinate, and indisposed to give my captors any
satisfaction with regard to who I was, and for a considerable time I
stood out strongly for my rights as an officer in the Confederate army.
I was subjected to a brief examination before his honor the mayor, but
refused to commit myself; and it very soon became apparent that my
captors were in somewhat of a quandary as to the best course to
pursue with regard to me. It was finally, however, decided to hold me
for the present, and I was assigned to tolerably comfortable quarters,
where I proceeded to make myself as much at home as I could.
The Fun Commences.
Now the fun commenced. It having become rumored about that a
woman, disguised as a Confederate officer, had been arrested, all the
curiosity-seekers of the town became immensely excited, especially
as the most exaggerated reports of my heroic deeds on the battle-field
and elsewhere were in circulation, and everybody — the women in
particular — evinced the most eager desire to see the heroine of
innumerable bloody conflicts.
I began to be pestered with visitors, who plied me with all sorts of
questions, some of them most insulting ones, but which I was
compelled to refrain from getting angry at for fear of betraying
myself. My position was a most unpleasant one, and it required very
skilful management for me to play the part of a man to advantage.
What gave piquancy to the situation was, that, while it was generally
believed I was a woman, and the particular woman whose exploits
had reached their ears, my visitors were none of them quite sure
which sex I belonged to, and all their efforts were directed to solving
the mystery.
While the attentions I received from the good citizens of
Lynchburg, and particularly from the women folk of that town, were
all in a greater or less degree annoying, some of my interviews with
the visitors who persisted in calling upon me were decidedly
amusing, and caused me much hearty laughter.
On one occasion I heard feminine voices and footsteps
approaching, and prepared myself for the ordeal which I would be
compelled to go through with. During the two years and more I had
been wearing male attire, I had not only learned the general carriage of
a man, but had picked up a good many little masculine traits, which I
had practised until I was quite perfect in them. I relied greatly upon
these to aid me in maintaining my incognito, for they were eminently
characteristic, and well calculated to throw a suspicious person off
guard. So, when I heard these visitors coming, I stuck my feet up on
the window-sill, and, just as they were opening the door, I turned my
head, and spit.
This action attracted the attention of the youngest of the two ladies
who were entering, immediately; and I heard her say in a whisper to
the elder, "O, ma, that can't be a woman! See how he spits!" I saw
that my little ruse was a success, and laughed inwardly at the
impression it made on the ladies.
They were a mother and daughter, and had evidently come to
remonstrate with me, in good set terms, about the impropriety of my
costume. One little peculiarly mannish gesture, however, so
completely confounded them that they did not venture to approach
the subject they had in their minds except in the most roundabout
way. They were very nice people, and were disposed to be as kind to
me as they possibly could; but I did not think proper to give them
any satisfaction with regard to what they were most concerned
about; and, after a somewhat embarrassed conversation, during
which they offered to serve me in any way in their power, they took
their departure as wise as they came.
Comical Interview With An Old Lady.
Not long after, I had another visitor of a somewhat different kind.
This was a motherly old lady, who seemed to consider that her years
and experience gave her a right to speak to me in plain words,
whether I was a man or a woman. She accordingly, without any
ceremony, began to subject me to a very rigid cross-examination; but
I replied to her questions in a manner that was anything but to her
satisfaction. The result was, that both of us at length began to be
somewhat vexed, and, as I could not understand what right she had
to undertake such a task as that she was then engaged in, and considered
her behavior impertinent in the extreme, I resolved to say a few
words that I thought would settle her.
Finding that she could not obtain any definite answers to her
questions, she finally said, "Well, all I've got to say is, that if you
really are a young man, you deserve credit for what you have done
to advance the interests of the cause. If you are a woman, however,
you are disgracing your sex by dressing yourself up in men's
clothes, and attempting to be a soldier. If you wanted to serve your
country, you might have found some other way of doing it, and you
ought to be ashamed of yourself."
This made me a little mad, but I kept cool, and, shrugging my
shoulders, said, in as deliberate a manner as possible, looking the old
lady straight in the eyes, "Well, madam, as you seem to be in doubt
about my sex, and are apparently exceedingly anxious to find out
whether I am a man or a woman, allow me to suggest that the facts
of the case can very readily be established to your satisfaction.
Suppose you — " But it would be cruelty to the reader to give the rest
of my reply, so I will leave it unrecorded.
It had an astonishing effect, however, on my visitor. She got red
in the face, her eyes flashed, and, muttering something that I did not
hear, she bounced out of the room, leaving me to enjoy a hearty
laugh at the comical termination of the adventure. My irate visitor
went down stairs in hot haste, and, in a terrible state of excitement,
informed the mayor that that nasty little fellow had insulted her. The
supposed insult I explained in such a way that the laugh was fairly
turned upon the ancient dame.
If such occurrences as these had been the only annoyances to
which I was subjected, no particular harm would have been done,
but, rather, considerable amusement would have been afforded me.
To my surprise and indignation, however, I received one day the
following letter from a general officer, with whom I was acquainted,
and whom I had hitherto regarded as something of a gentleman: —
"Lieutenant Harry T. Buford, C. S. A.
"Dear Sir: If you will accept a position on my staff as one of my
aids, I can obtain for you your release from the civil authorities. You
will have a pleasant time. I will furnish you with a fine horse, and you
can share my quarters and my mess."
The meaning of this did not require explanation. It stung me to the
heart, that a man who had fought with me on the same field of battle
should offer me such an indignity, situated as I was; and I was so
overcome with rage at the insult that I would have killed him, without
thought of the consequences to myself, could I have reached him. I
replied instantly to his note, stating that I would meet him at any time
and place he might designate, and that I would either kill him or he
would have to kill me, for I was resolved that no man should insult me
with impunity. I heard no more from him; and when I gained my
freedom once more, he was gone. At that time the writer of this
insulting note was single, but now he is married; and it is only for the
sake of his noble little wife and his family that I refrain from branding
his name with infamy. I am informed that he always speaks of me with
the highest respect; but, as I have no respect for him, I care not what
his opinion of me may be.
Finally, I obtained my release; and having had quite enough of
Lynchburg, and being anxious to escape from the gaze of the
impertinently curious people, who watched my every
motion, I took my departure without any delay.
CHAPTER XXIV.
RUNNING THROUGH THE FEDERAL LINES.
At Charlotte, North Carolina. — Arrival of Longstreet's
Corps, on its Way to
re-enforce Bragg's Army. — I obtain Permission for myself and other
Officers to go
on the Train southward. — I arrive in Atlanta, Georgia, and receive Letters
from several Members of my Family. — I learn for the first time that my
Brother is in the Confederate Army. — I receive Information of the Officer to
whom I am engaged to be married, and whom I have not seen since the Battle
of Shiloh. — I make an Attempt to reach him, but am unable to do so. —
Failing in an Endeavor to become attached to General Armstrong's
Command, I determine to undertake an Expedition through the
Lines. — Finding a Supply of female Garments in a deserted
Farm-house, I attire
Myself as a Woman. — My Uniform hid in an Ash-barrel. — An
Invasion of the Dairy. — I start for the Federal Lines.
ROM
Lynchburg I went to Charlotte, North
Carolina, where the home-guard officer had
attempted to arrest me while carrying through
General Winder's blank despatches to Van
Dorn. I had some curiosity to meet this individual
again, as I thought I would like to make
his acquaintance. I did not have the pleasure of
seeing him, however; but I did see quite a number
of officers and soldiers who had collected at this
point, under orders to return to their commands without
delay, and who were waiting for transportation.
Many of these were old friends and acquaintances of mine,
and I proceeded to make myself at home among them, and
also among the good people of Charlotte, taking particular
pains, according to my usual custom, to be as agreeable as I
could to the ladies; for, notwithstanding my recent little
unpleasantness with the Richmond and Lynchburg authorities
with regard to my right to wear male attire, I till was inspired
by some ambition to achieve a reputation as a ladies'
man. I succeeded as well as I usually did when attempting
to play this rôle, and managed to enjoy myself immensely,
although I am not aware that I inflicted any irreparable damage upon
the hearts of the fair ones of Charlotte.
This was in the summer of 1863. General Lee had invaded
Pennsylvania, had been defeated at Gettysburg, and had returned
to Virginia, to resume again the defence of Richmond.
His army was shattered, but defiant still, and, as events
proved, was quite competent to do as hard fighting as it
ever did, and to ward off the always impending Federal
attack on the Confederate capital for a good while to come.
But, with the battle of Gettysburg, the important work of the
summer in that quarter had culminated, and the attention of
the entire Confederacy was now anxiously directed to Eastern
Tennessee, where the Federal General Rosecrans was pushing
forward, with the evident intention of striking a damaging
blow somewhere, and perhaps of forcing his way into Georgia.
It was in resisting the forces of Rosecrans, therefore, that
distinction was to be won, and not by remaining in the neighborhood
of Richmond. As I always liked to be where the
heaviest fighting was going on, I concluded that I ought to set
my face southward if I hoped to win any laurels.
Hearing that Longstreet's corps had been detached from Lee's
army before Richmond, and ordered to re-enforce Bragg, I concluded
to wait in Charlotte until it made its appearance on its way
southward, and, if possible, travel with it to its destination. A good
many of the officers waiting in Charlotte were anxious to take
advantage of this opportunity to obtain transportation back to their
commands, but it was reported that no one would be permitted to go
on the train except Longstreet's own men. It would have been a very
serious disappointment and some trouble to many who did not know
when they would have such another chance to reach the scene of
action, and there was a good deal of growling at the prospect that a
prolonged stay in Charlotte might be necessary, when their services
were so much needed elsewhere.
I, however, had made up my mind to make a determined effort to
go, at every hazard, despite the orders to the contrary; and I
proposed to some of the officers, who were impatient to get off, that
we should have an interview with General Longstreet, and endeavor
to impress upon his mind the imperative necessity we were under of
rejoining our regiments immediately. There was a difference of
opinion,
however, about the expediency and propriety of this course, and no
one was willing to take the responsibility of doing the necessary
talking. As no one else would undertake the task of interviewing
Longstreet on the subject, I resolved to represent the situation to him
myself.
An Interview With Longstreet.
After the arrival of his corps in Charlotte I watched for a good
opportunity, and at length espied him engaged in conversation with
General Jenkins. I therefore went up, and, making a salute, stated to
General Longstreet that a number of officers who were ordered to join
their regiments immediately were unable to proceed for lack of
transportation, and asked if we might not go on with him; for, if we
did not, great inconvenience would be caused to ourselves and to the
army. The general hesitated somewhat, but after asking me several
questions about who we were, how many there were of us, where we
were going, &c., he acceded to my request. I made known the success
of my mission to the rest, and so, jumping on board the train, we
managed to get through.
I was determined, however, that in case Longstreet refused, I
would wait until the very last minute, and then jump on the engine or
tender, believing that, in an emergency like this, the best plan is to
take the law into one's own hands. It is true that, had I attempted this,
I might have been put off; but I did not think this very likely, but
rather thought that I would probably win the favor of the general, by
showing him that I was bent upon getting to the front at the earliest
possible moment. At all events, I was willing to have taken the
chances of getting through in proper style.
On reaching Atlanta, I had the gratification of receiving a number
of letters from relatives from whom I had not heard for many months.
There were two from my father, one from my sister in Matanzas, and
one from my brother, in the trans-Mississippi department. This was
the first time in nine months I had heard from my brother, and it was
the first intimation I had that he was in the army. It was a great delight
for me to receive these letters, as, though I had been long separated
from my relatives, they were often in my thoughts, and I remembered
them with the tenderest affection. I was, as may be supposed,
particularly well pleased to learn that
my brother was in the Confederate service, but I was glad that he was
so far off that there was not much danger of my meeting him; for I felt
certain that he would object, in no measured terms, to my course in
assuming male attire for the purpose of doing a share of the fighting,
and feared that we might quarrel about it.
Some Good News.
Shortly after my arrival in Atlanta, however, I heard something that
delighted me even more than the receipt of these letters from my near
and dear relatives. This was that Captain De Caulp was near Spring
Hill with Van Dorn. This bit of particularly interesting information I
obtained from a soldier of the third Arkansas regiment. I had not seen
the captain since the battle of Shiloh, where I fought by his side, or at
least under his eye, during nearly the whole of the conflict,
succeeding in winning his commendation for my courage, without
exciting any suspicion in his mind that I was the woman upon whom
his affections were bestowed. So soon as I heard that he was in my
vicinity, I was seized with an intense desire to meet him again; for I
was greatly in love with him, and it afforded me the keenest delight to
hear praises of myself from his lips, and he all the while thinking that
he was addressing them to a third party.
I don't suppose, since the commencement of the world, so strange a
courtship as ours was ever carried on. It is certain that not many
women have had the same opportunities as myself to find out, from
their own lips, exactly how fond of them their expected husbands
really are. The situation, I confess, had a wonderful fascination for me,
for there were intensely romantic elements in it, that addressed
themselves, in the strongest manner, to my imagination. To have been
able to fight by the side of my lover in one of the greatest battles of
the war, and to be praised by him for my valor, were of themselves
matters for intense satisfaction; and I often imagined how it would be
after the war was over, and we would be able to compare notes and
relate our adventures to each other. But, alas! before the war would be
over there was much that both of us would be compelled to endure of
toil and suffering; and the peaceful, happy home that my fervid
imagination pictured was but a dream, and nothing more.
At the time of which I write, however, a desire to see Captain De
Caulp again was the uppermost thought in my mind, and I was almost
more than half resolved to give him a surprise by revealing myself to
him. Whether to do this or not was a question that I debated with
myself most seriously while on my way to join him. The fact that I
was a woman had now been so often discovered, that it was probable
he might at any moment learn that his expected wife and Lieutenant
Harry T. Buford were one and the same; and, not knowing what he
might think of the course I had pursued in assuming male attire, I
dreaded having any one but myself discover my secret to him. In
addition to this, I loved him most fondly; and, although inspired by a
sense of the duties I owed to the cause for which I had taken up arms,
I endeavored to control my feelings, and to regard my marriage with
Captain De Caulp as not to be thought of until the time came for both
to forsake the battle-field, and to think no more of warfare but as
something we were done with forever.
Cupid's Tyranny.
I would have been less than human, however, if sometimes I did
not desire most ardently to be with him, and to hear from my lover's
lips the terms of endearment which are the sweetest music a woman's
ears can be greeted by, and to be courted by him as other women
were by the men who had won their affections. I knew that, in many
respects, it would be better for me to remain at a distance from
Captain De Caulp; but I was moved by an inscrutable impulse at this
time to go to him, and I was almost willing, if he should say so, to
abandon the army, and to permanently resume the garments of my sex.
I did not propose, however, to do this if it could be avoided, and the
leading idea in my mind was, in the event of my concluding to reveal
myself to him, to go through the rest of the war with him, and to fight
constantly by his side, as the Italian heroine, Bona Lombardi, did by
the side of her husband, Brunaro. The course which I would
ultimately pursue, however, I finally determined should be governed
by circumstances, but that, at all events, I would make an effort to see
my lover again.
So soon as I found that Captain De Caulp was near at hand, I took
the train for the point nearest to where I learned that Van Dorn's
command was stationed. Getting off at Tyner's
Station, I obtained a horse, and started off in the direction of
Chickamauga. At this point I fell in with General Pegram's cavalry,
and had the great pleasure of seeing the handsome General Frank
Armstrong, an officer for whom I entertained an intense admiration.
I remember once saying to Major Bacon, who at that time had not
the slightest idea who I really was, "I wonder how any woman could
help falling in love with Frank. If I was a woman, I would be in love
with him." Indeed, I fear that if my affections had not already been
engaged, General Armstrong would have captured them. General
Armstrong was a tall, fine looking man, dark complexioned, with
regular and very handsome features, jet black hair and eyes, and with
mustache and side whiskers that became him immensely. His uniform
always fitted him exactly, and was exceedingly becoming to him. He
was not a gay or dashing sort of man, but firm and decisive in his
manners and appearance, and he always seemed to be what he was, —
a true officer and gentleman. From General Pegram I learned that it
would be very difficult, and, indeed, almost impossible, for me to
reach Van Dorn, and I therefore concluded to remain where I was, and
to endeavor to become attached to General Armstrong's command.
After waiting for some time, however, and finding that there was no
chance for me to do this, I turned back as far as Ringold. At this place
I met some of the officers and men of the tenth Tennessee regiment,
with whom I was acquainted, and from whom I obtained some ideas
with regard to the general situation of affairs, which induced me to
make rather different plans from those which I had been endeavoring
to carry out.
In A Quandary.
In fact, I was in somewhat of a quandary, and scarcely knew
exactly what to do with myself so as to dispose of my time to the best
advantage. I saw plainly, as matters were then, that it would be
exceedingly difficult, if not impossible, for me to join Van Dorn's
command, whereas, if I waited patiently for a little while, Captain De
Caulp would most likely come my way, and I would be able to meet
him sooner by waiting for him than by going after him. I was too
impatient, however, to pass my time in idleness, and felt as if I must
do something for the cause and my own credit as a soldier.
It really appeared to be more trouble than it was worth to endeavor
to persuade any of the general officers to assign me to the particular
kind of duty I desired; and, as I had been decidedly successful in
more than one expedition, planned and executed by myself, and on
my own responsibility, I resolved to undertake another one, just for
the sake of keeping myself busy, and of seeing what would come of
it. I felt very confident that if I could make a big hit, my services as a
spy would be in heavy demand, for there was evidently going to be
some close fighting, and the movements of the enemy would need
watching at every point.
My Washington trip, just after the battle of Ball's Bluff, suggested
a general method of procedure; but in a great number of ways the
present situation was a far more difficult and dangerous one, and
would require the exercise of all the wits I had — wits that had been
tolerably well sharpened by over two years of severe experience, both
as a soldier and as a spy. I was even more reckless now than I was then,
but my recklessness was that of a veteran, who scorns danger when there is a necessity
for braving it, but who does not expose himself any more than there is
occasion for, or run himself against rifle bullets just for the fun of the
thing. While well aware of the risks I incurred, however, I had an
unlimited faith in my own tact and skill, and did not doubt my ability to
accomplish my proposed adventure in safety, and with satisfactory
results.
Planning An Expedition.
My idea now was to run through the lines, and take a good view of
the situation from the Federal standpoint, and I knew that the safest
and best way of doing this — if, indeed, not the only one — was to go as
a woman; for, in the proper attire of my sex it would be easier for me to
pass the pickets, and avoid being suspected of having any end in
view to which objection could be taken. The only difficulty in the way
of accomplishing my object was in procuring suitable clothing
without attracting attention. As there were a number of houses in the
vicinity from which the people had fled, some of them in great haste,
when they found themselves likely to be in the midst of contending
armies, it occurred to me that in all probability I would be able to find
what I wanted in some one of them.
I, therefore, commenced a search, and soon came to a dwelling that
promised to supply me with everything I needed; for, from such
views of the interior as I could get, the people seemed to have gone
off, and left nearly all their goods behind them. I, accordingly,
concluded to make an investigation, to see if my surmises were
correct, and forced my way in through one of the back windows. Sure
enough, I found an abundance of female clothing to select from, and
proceeded forthwith to appropriate the best outfit the wardrobe of the
absent mistress of the establishment afforded, never doubting but
that, as she must be a good Confederate, she would highly approve
of my conduct, could she be informed of the use to which her dresses
and underwear were being put.
Transformation.
Having completed my toilet, and transformed myself from a gallant
young Confederate officer into a reasonably good-looking woman, I
packed a carpet-bag with a change of clothing, and other articles,
such as I thought might be useful on a journey. Before making a start,
however, there were several matters to be attended to. My uniform
was to be disposed of, and, as I was a trifle hungry, I thought that if
any provisions were obtainable, a good meal would aid me materially
in getting along comfortably.
My uniform I folded up carefully and put into a pillow-case, and in
looking about for a place to bestow it, where it would be least likely
to be discovered or disturbed, I concluded that an ash-barrel which I
found would answer my purpose exactly. I therefore put the pillow-case,
containing the garments, into the barrel, and, covering it with
ashes, placed it, with the mouth turned towards the smoke-house, in
a corner where it would. not be apt to attract attention.
This arrangement being effected, I next went into the dairy in
search of food, and found enough to supply the demands of my
hunger, although the bill of fare was, perhaps, not all that I would
have desired, had I been permitted any choice in the matter. I
succeeded, however, in making a tolerably hearty meal, by eating
some raw ham, and all the preserves I could find. Having despatched
such eatables as I was able to lay my hands upon, I picked up my
carpet-bag, and made directly for the enemy's lines. I knew that the
bold way was the best way, in the execution of such an
enterprise as that upon which I was now starting, and that the correct
plan was to strike directly for headquarters, with a plausible story to
tell, rather than to attempt to slip past the pickets and run the risk of
being detected, and of being compelled to give an account of myself,
under suspicion of being upon some objectionable errand. Until
actually within the Federal lines, however, I would be, so to speak,
between two fires, and would stand a chance of being used quite as
roughly by my friends as by the enemy; and it was important,
therefore, for me to make the distance I had to go as quickly as I
could, and yet to avoid appearing in too much of a hurry, in case any
one should happen to see me. I judged that I would be able to pass
the Confederate lines without any very great trouble, as I was not
able to note any picket posts in the vicinity of the house which had
so conveniently been left standing by its owners, with everything in
it that I wanted for the particular errand I was on. But I knew that it
would not do to rely too much on appearances in such a situation as
this, and that I was liable to have an individual armed with musket or
sabre put in an appearance at any moment, and demand to know who
I was, and what I was prowling about there for.
The dangers attending the enterprise, however, gave it a certain
pleasurable excitement, such as it otherwise would not have had, and
I enjoyed it, after a fashion, immensely — even more than I did the
excitement of a battle. In a battle, a single combatant, no matter how
valorous he may be, is lost in the crowd; and as his individuality is, in
a large measure, merged in that of his regiment or brigade, so the
dependence of the issue upon single, personal effort is something
that it is difficult to appreciate. In attempting such a bit of work,
however, as I now had on hand, my own personality necessarily
asserted itself in the strongest manner. The plan of action was mine;
its execution depended upon myself; mine alone was the peril; and
should I succeed in accomplishing my first point, in gaining the
Federal lines in safety, the prosecution of my enterprise would be a
contest of wits between myself and those with whom I was brought
in contact, and from whom I expected to gain the information I was
after. For these reasons I found a keener enjoyment in the
performance of spy duty than I did in doing the work of a soldier;
and, although I would not have missed, on any account, the
experience I underwent during the first two years of the
war, especially those incident to being a participant in such
hard-fought battles as Bull Run, Ball's Bluff, Fort Donelson,
and Shiloh, my career during the latter part of the great contest,
when I was, for the most part, acting as a spy within the
enemy's lines, was in many ways much the most interesting
to myself. Whether the narrative of it will prove the most
interesting portion of this volume, I, of course, cannot tell.
I hope, however, that the reader, having followed the story
of my fortunes and misfortunes thus far, will have sufficient
curiosity to keep with me to the end.
CHAPTER XXV.
THE
MILITARY SECRET SERVICE. — RETURN FROM A
SPYING EXPEDITION.
The Duties of Spies. — The Necessity for their
Employment. — The Status of Spies,
and the extraordinary Perils they run. — Some Remarks about the
Secret
Service, and the Necessity for its Improvement. — I reach the Federal
Lines,
and obtain a Pass to go North from General Rosecrans. — On my Travels
in
search of Information. — Arrival at Martinsburg, and am put in the
Room of a
Federal Officer. — A Disturbance in the Night. — "Who is
that Woman?" — I
make an advantageous Acquaintance. — A polite
Quartermaster. — All about a
pretended dead Brother. — How Secret Service Agents go about their
Work. — A
Visit to my pretended Brother's Grave, and what I gained by it. — I
succeed in
giving one of Mosby's Pickets an important bit of Information. — The
polite
Attention of Federal Officers. — I return to Chatanooga, and resume my
Confederate Uniform. — A perilous Attempt to reach the Confederate
Lines. — What a Drink of Whiskey can do. — I become Lame in my
wounded Foot,
and am sent to Atlanta for medical Treatment.
HE
position and duties of spies are little understood
by persons who have had no actual experience
of warfare, and who, consequently, are
unable to understand the multitude of agencies
it is requisite for the commanders of armies
and the heads of governments, which may find it necessary
to make an appeal to arms in order to settle their
differences, to resort to for the accomplishment of the
ends they have in view. Just as the quartermaster,
the commissary, the paymaster, and the surgeon are
as important as the generals, — if any fighting worthy of the
name is to be done, and warfare is to be an affair of science
and skill, instead of a mere trial of brute force, — so the spy, who
will be able to obtain information of the movements of the enemy;
who will discover the plans for campaigns and battles that are being
arranged; who will intercept despatches; who will carry false
intelligence to the enemy, and who, when he does become possessed
of any fact worth knowing, will
prove himself prompt and reliable in taking it, or sending it to
headquarters, is indispensable to the success of any movement.
The spy, however, occupies a different position from that held by
any other attaché of an army. According to all military law he is an
outlaw, and is liable to be hung if detected — the death of a soldier
even being denied him. Nothing has been left undone to render the
labors of the spy not only perilous in the extreme, but infamous; and
yet the spy is nothing more nor less than a detective officer, and there
cannot be any good and sufficient reason assigned for the discredit
which attaches to his occupation. It is simply one of the prejudices
which, having no substantial foundation, have been carefully
fostered by military men for their own purposes, and it is high time
that it should be given up by sensible people.
Spies And Their Labors.
During the war a vast deal of the most important kind of work was
performed by spies on both sides, and these secret emissaries, men
and women, labored with a diligence, a zeal, and an intelligence in the
execution of tasks of enormous peril, that was rarely equalled, and
never surpassed, by those who had the actual work of fighting to
do. The fate of more than one battle was decided, not so much by the
valor of the soldier, as by the movements which the generals were
able to make through information furnished them by spies; and more
than one commanding officer has testified, in hearty terms of
approbation, to the efficiency and fidelity of the secret service agents
who have aided him.
The spy must, of necessity, perform his work amid the most
perilous environments. Self-preservation is the first law of nature and
of armies; and it is the duty of a general to make it an exceedingly
dangerous business for the secret emissaries of the enemy to
penetrate his lines for the purpose of picking up useful bits of
knowledge. There is no reason, however, why, in this civilized age,
when, as every one knows, spies are freely employed by all
commanders, and their services are appreciated at the highest value,
this class of agents should not have their status fixed in a more
satisfactory manner than it is. The agent of a secret service bureau
ought to have the same immunity that any other combatant has. We
shoot guerrillas, or unauthorized combatants, and so, perhaps, we
might continue to hang unauthorized spies; but a regular
attaché of a secret service bureau should have some recognized
rights, which even the enemy would be bound to respect.
I admit that there are difficulties in the way of any such
arrangement as this; for, from the peculiar manner in which a spy
carries on his operations, it is often necessary that he should be
known to be what he is to no one but his confidential superior, and
in the prosecution of some of the most important enterprises it is
impossible for him to carry about him, in any shape, evidences of
who or what he is; still, something might be done to improve the
barbarous methods now in vogue of dealing with military detectives;
for it is preposterous to attempt to regard them in the light of
outlaws, when they are acting as much under the orders of
responsible superiors as are the men who shoulder the muskets.
Having been for a long period a spy myself, and a very successful
one, and having been engaged in many as hazardous and responsible
enterprises as usually fall to the lot of a secret agent of a belligerent
power, I naturally feel a, so to speak, professional interest in this
matter. Otherwise, however, it does not concern me personally what
may be done, or left undone, in the way of organizing the detective
forces of the armies of the future. I am well out of the business, with a
consciousness of having served the cause I advocated with zeal and
efficiency; and as I did not fear danger while engaged in secret
service duty, so I feel no compunctions in relating the particulars of a
number of transactions which, at first sight, the reader may think were
not to my credit. All I ask is, that fair-minded persons, who will do me
the honor to peruse this portion of my narrative, will remember that
the circumstances were not ordinary ones. I was mixed up in a good
deal of most rascally business; but it was my associates, and not
myself, who were deserving of condemnation. Their motive was gain,
and gain at the expense of a government and people that trusted
them, and to the detriment of a cause which they professed to hold
sacred. I, on the other hand, was the secret agent of the enemy, who
considered that pretty much anything was fair in war, and that I was
justified in inflicting all the damage to the enemies of my cause that I
was able, whether by fighting them with arms in my hands in the
open field, or by encouraging treason within their own ranks. That I
associated with traitors, and strove to make men betray the cause to
which they were bound by every tie of honor and
duty, did not render them less despicable to me; and I even now
shudder to think of the depravities of human nature which my career
as a secret agent of the Confederate government revealed to me.
Within The Federal Lines.
But it will be enough to speak of these things when the proper
time comes; and my special task just now is to relate the prosecution
of my adventures after quitting the farmhouse, where I had
succeeded in obtaining the clothing I needed for the accomplishment
of the particular enterprise I had on hand.
Luckily for me no one observed my movements, and I made my way
to the nearest Federal picket station without interruption. I gave my
name as Mrs. Williams, told as much as I thought the officer in
charge ought to know about me, and asked to see General
Rosecrans. I was accordingly ushered into the general's presence,
and gave him a somewhat more detailed account of myself.
I represented that I was a widow woman, who was endeavoring
to escape from the Confederacy, and who desired to go
to her friends in the North; and, judging from appearances, I
quite won upon the sympathies of the Federal commander.
He asked me a great number of questions, which I answered
to his satisfaction, and he then dismissed me, with a pass
permitting me to go North. I could not help smiling at the
ease with which I deceived General Rosecrans, and said to
myself, as I retired from his presence, "My good old fellow,
I'll teach you what we Southern women are good for before
I am done with you."
Having got my pass, I started off, with a general notion of
seeing all I could see, and finding out all I could find out,
watching all the time for an opportunity for the execution of
a grand coup. Picking up information here and there, some
of which was of no little importance, I travelled as far as
Martinsburg, and had a considerable notion of proceeding to
Washington, to see whether a second visit to that city would
not be even more productive of results than my first. Circumstances
occurred, however, which detained me in Martinsburg,
and my trip to Washington was, therefore, deferred to
another opportunity, and when the opportunity arrived the
reader may be assured that I made good use of it.
It was after night when I reached Martinsburg, and the only
unoccupied room in the hotel where I stopped was the one
belonging to a Federal quartermaster, that officer having been called
away to Washington. The landlord, accordingly, put me in there, and
I proceeded to make myself as much at home as possible in the
quartermaster's quarters. As luck would have it, however, the officer
returned during the night, and after I had retired, and finding the door
bolted, he commenced a furious knocking.
A Disturbance.
I was asleep when he began to make this noise, and it caused me
to wake with a start. I had no idea who it was, but thought some
drunken fellow was making a disturbance. I therefore concluded not
to take any notice, thinking that when he found he could not get in
he would go away. The quartermaster, however, was angry at
finding his room occupied, and being unable to obtain a response,
finally said, "Open the door, inside there, or I will break it open!"
I thought that it was high time for me to speak now, and so said,
in a half terrified tone of voice, "Who are you? What do you want?"
Finding that his apartment had a feminine occupant, he lowered
his voice somewhat, and said, "Excuse me, madam," and walked to
the office, where he gave the clerk some sharp words for permitting
any one to take his room.
I heard him say, "I would like thundering well to know who she is;"
but the clerk was unable to give him any satisfactory information,
and the upshot of the whole matter was, that he was obliged to sleep
in the parlor, the clerk apologizing for the inconvenience caused him,
by saying that he did not know he was going to return so soon.
The next morning I overheard the quartermaster say to the old
negro porter, "Uncle George, do you know who that woman is that
they put into my room last night?"
"No, sah; I doesn't know, sah," replied the darkey.
"What train did she come on?"
"On the western train, I believe, sah."
"Was anybody with her?"
"Not as I knows of. I didn't see anybody with her, sah."
"Is she good looking?"
"Yes, sah; she's a pretty good looking lady, sah."
This was flattering; and the compliment was the greater as it was
evidently not intended for my ears, and I resolved to myself that
Uncle George's good taste should be properly
rewarded.
This conversation served to give me a hint as to the kind of man I
had to deal with in the quartermaster, and I doubted
not that if my good looks made anything like as favorable an
impression on him as they apparently had done on Uncle
George, I would have but little difficulty in inducing him to tell me a
good many things that it would be highly advantageous for me to
know, but which it would not be exactly according to the regulations
of the Federal army for him to reveal to a Confederate spy.
Having made my morning toilet, and having, in anticipation of
striking up an acquaintance with the quartermaster, endeavored to
make myself as attractive as possible in outward appearance, I left
my room, and went and took a seat in the parlor. It was not long
before I saw my gentleman, or one whom I supposed to be he,
walking past the door, and looking
at me with a rather curious gaze. I, however, took no notice of him,
concluding that it would be more to the purpose to let him make the
first advances, something that he was evidently
not indisposed to do.
Breakfast was announced as ready before a great while, and with
the announcement came the quartermaster's opportunity to
introduce himself to me. Advancing towards me, he
bowed very politely, and said, "Are you Mrs. Williams?"
"Yes, sir," I replied; "that is my name."
Smiling as agreeably as he could, he said, "I owe you an
apology, madam, for the disturbance I made at your door last night. I
was not aware that there was a lady in possession of the room."
"O, sir," I said, "no apology is necessary, I assure you. Indeed, I
rather owe you one, for I fear I must have caused you some
inconvenience."
"O, not at all, madam. On the contrary, when I learned that a lady
had possession of the apartment, I regretted exceedingly that I had
made so much noise. We officers of the
army, however, are inclined to become rather rough in our ways,
owing to the associations we are thrown in with, and to our absence
from female society. We forget, sometimes, that we are civilized
human beings, and don't know exactly how
to behave ourselves under circumstances where rudeness is
inexcusable.["]
"O, pray, sir, don't apologize," I answered; "I am sure that an officer
of our brave army would not be intentionally rude under any
circumstances." I thought that this would do to start the idea in his
mind that I was a stanch Federal.
Just then a colored woman appeared, and asked us whether we
would not walk into breakfast; and my new-made friend very politely
said, "As you are a stranger here, will you permit me to escort you
to the breakfast-room?"
"Certainly, sir," I replied; and taking his arm, we walked into the
room together, my escort finding a seat for me beside himself at one
of the pleasantest tables.
During the progress of the meal, my friend manifested the greatest
interest in me and my movements, and by a series of questions, he
elicited the information that I was from Cincinnati, that I was
uncertain how long I would remain, and that I was in search of a
brother, whom I greatly feared was either killed or wounded, as he
had not been heard of for an unusually long time.
Concerning A Bogus Brother.
The little game I was playing with the quartermaster will serve as a
very fair specimen of the methods which a secret service agent is
compelled to use for the purpose of gaining such information as is
desired. A spy, or a detective, must have a quick eye, a sharp ear, a
retentive memory, and a talent for taking advantage of small, and
apparently unimportant points, as aids for the accomplishment of the
object in view. While making the journey which had brought me as far
as Martinsburg, I had, of course, kept my eyes and ears open, and
had consequently accumulated quite an extensive stock of knowledge
which I thought might be useful some time. Among other things, I had
learned the name of a Federal soldier belonging to General Averill's
command, and I made a mental note of it for future reference. I cannot
recollect, at this distance of time from the incident, whether I
accidentally saw this name in a newspaper, or whether I overheard it
mentioned in conversation between people near me in the cars. How I
obtained it, however, is a matter of small consequence, for that I might
have done in a thousand ways. At all events I had the name, and my
purpose now was to use it
as a means of making the Federal officer by my side at the hotel table
useful to me.
My friend asked me what company my brother belonged to, but I
said that I could not tell him that. All I knew was, that he was under
Averill, and that, as the command had been engaged in some sharp
fighting lately, his family, as they had not heard from him, were
becoming exceedingly anxious.
I believe that I wiped the semblance of a tear from my eye as I told
all this, and looked as distressed as possible, in the hope of working
on the quartermaster's sympathies. He proved as sympathetic as I
could have desired; and bidding me not to distress myself
unnecessarily, but to hope for the best, he promised to undertake to
find out for me where my brother was, if still alive, or, if it should turn
out that he had been killed, where he was buried.
Accordingly, when we had finished breakfast, he escorted me back
to the parlor, and then, saying au revoir, he went immediately to
headquarters, to inspect the roll of the command. Before a great while
he returned, and, with a very sorrowful countenance, stated that it
gave him pain to tell me that my dear brother was dead.
"O, that is awful!" I cried, and began to go on at quite a rate,
actually, I believe, squeezing out a few real tears.
My friend tried to soothe me as well as he could, and finally,
becoming calm, in response to repeated requests to do so on his part,
I asked him where Dick was buried, and declared that I must visit his
grave.
That I should desire to see, and to weep over, the grave of my dear
departed brother, seemed to the quartermaster both reasonable and
natural, and he said that he would get an ambulance and take me to
the burial-place.
At My Supposed Brother's Grave.
Before many moments, therefore, the vehicle was in attendance,
and my friend and I drove out to where my supposititious brother
was buried. It was now my turn to question; and my escort proved to
be so exceedingly communicative, that before we returned to the
hotel, I was informed of the exact number of troops in the
neighborhood, their positions, their commanders, where the enemy
were supposed to be located, who they were commanded by, the
results of the recent conflicts, and a variety of other matters of more
or less importance. The
man was as innocent and as unsuspicious as a new-born babe, and I
could scarcely keep from laughing sometimes at the eagerness he
displayed in telling me all manner of things that, had he been
possessed of ordinary common sense, he would never have revealed
to any one, much less to a total stranger, with regard to whose
antecedents he knew absolutely nothing.
Some of the information thus obtained I knew would be of vital
importance to the Confederates, could it be conveyed to them
immediately. I therefore made my arrangement, and that night slipped
through the Federal lines, and told all that I had to tell to one of
Mosby's pickets. With that extraordinary good luck which so often
attends bold adventures, I succeeded in getting back without being
observed or suspected, and my escort of the morning was never the
wiser by the knowledge that his silly talkativeness had produced
such good results for the Confederacy.
I remained about a week in Martinsburg, and enjoyed myself
immensely. Not only my friend, the quartermaster, but a number of
other officers paid me very marked attentions, and I was soon quite a
rival to the belles of the place. I did not have another opportunity to
communicate with the Confederate forces; but this week was not an
idle one, nevertheless, and by the time it was ended, I was in
possession of a large number of facts that were well worth knowing.
While still undecided whether to push on farther or not, I received
some intelligence which induced me to think it better to return.
When I announced that I was about to depart, my friends, the
officers, expressed the greatest regret. The quartermaster said, "We
shall miss you greatly; you have made yourself so agreeable since
you have been here, that we shall scarcely know what to do without
you."
I said that I was sorry to go, but that my family was anxious for my
return; and as I bade the quartermaster good-by, I declared that I had
half a mind to turn detective, for the purpose of catching the rebel
who killed Dick. The quartermaster insisted that I should write to him
when I got home; and on his stating that he had a notion to come and
see me when the war was over, I gave him a pressing invitation to do
so, thinking that he would have a good time in finding me.
But when I got back to Chattanooga, I had some trouble in
making any farther progress; but by representing myself as a
soldier's wife, and expressing an extreme anxiety to see my
husband, I was permitted to remain within the Federal lines, but
was not afforded any particular facilities for finding out anything
worth knowing. My anxiety now was to regain the Confederate lines
at the earliest possible moment. As I knew the country pretty well, I
felt certain of being able to find the farm-house where I had left my
uniform, if I could only get a chance to go to it. Fortune favors the
brave in a majority of cases, and ere long I was enabled to reach the
house, but only to find that it had been burned, and, with the
exception of the smoke-house and kitchen, was a mass of charred
ruins.
I confess that my heart sank within me when I saw that the house
had been destroyed, for I would have been in a nice predicament,
and without my masculine garments would have been even more
unwelcome among the Confederates than I was among the Federals.
To my great joy, however, I discovered the ash-barrel just where I
had placed it and unharmed, and in a few moments I had discarded
my feminine raiment, and was once more in the guise of a
Confederate officer. The costume I wore, however, was not one in
which I could appear with impunity in that neighborhood, and it was
necessary, therefore, that I should make haste to get where it would
be regarded with friendly feelings.
Ere many moments I was crawling through the underbrush and
under the fences, with my coat and cap tied up in a bundle, so that I
could drop them in case of necessity. In this way I worked myself
slowly and cautiously along for several hours during the night, in
the direction of the Confederate outposts. When it was light enough
for me to see with reasonable distinctness, I made a reconnoisance,
and concluded that I must have been within the Confederate lines for
more than an hour.
To my left I saw the railroad track tolerably close to the road I was
on, and the smoke of the camp was clearly visible. I then crept back
into the bush and made for the nearest camp, not wishing to be
stopped either by friend or foe at this particular point. Before I
reached the point I was aiming at, however, I was compelled to take a
rest, for the kind of travelling I had been doing was the hardest kind
of hard work, and I was tolerably well used up. Drawing on my coat,
therefore, I sat down and began to think what story it would be best
for me to tell in order to obtain such a reception as I
desired. After turning over the matter in my mind, I concluded to
represent myself as an escaped prisoner belonging to Morgan's
command.
Back In The Confederate Lines.
Having thoroughly arranged my plan of action in my mind, I walked
up boldly to a picket, whom I saw sitting on a horse at some distance,
and saluting him, and telling him that I was unarmed, asked to see the
officer of the guard. The officer soon came riding out of the woods
towards me, and asked who I was. I told him that I was an escaped
prisoner, and that I belonged to Morgan's command, and produced
my transportation papers and the letter to General Polk, which had
been given to me in the early part of the war. The officer read the
papers, which he apparently did not find particularly satisfactory, and
scanned me very closely, as if he thought that there was something
not quite right about me.
I was much afraid lest he should suspect something, for I had no
mustache, and having become somewhat bleached, was not by any
means so masculine in appearance as I had been at one time. I,
however, bore his scrutiny without flinching, and he apparently did
not know what to do but to receive me for what I appeared to be. He
accordingly told me that I should have to wait where I was until the
relief came, when he would conduct me to camp.
I told him that I was terribly hungry and tired, having walked from
Chattanooga since early in the previous evening without food or
sleep, and that I would like to get where I could obtain some
breakfast. As a means of softening his heart, I pulled out a little
pocket flask of whiskey, and asked him if he would not take a drink.
His eye brightened at the sight of the flask, and he accepted my
invitation without a moment's hesitation. Putting it to his lips, he took
a good pull, and when he handed it back there was mighty little left in
it. This little I gave to the sergeant, who appeared to relish the liquor
as highly as his superior did. The whiskey had the desired effect; for
the officer told me he guessed I had better not wait for the relief, and
detailed a man to show me the way to camp.
On our arrival at camp, the man took me to the officer's tent, where
I made myself as much at home as I could until
the master appeared. It was not long, however, before he
followed me, and to my great satisfaction, an excellent breakfast
was in a short time placed on the table.
After breakfast, the boys, having heard of the arrival of an escaped
prisoner, I was speedily surrounded by a crowd of eager questioners,
who were anxious to hear all the news from the Federal army. I tried to
satisfy their curiosity as well as I could, and told them that the
Yankees had received heavy re-enforcements, and were preparing to make a grand
movement, and a variety of other matters, part fact and part fiction.
Having got rid of my questioners, I took a good sleep until noon,
and then, borrowing a horse, rode down to Dalton, where I learned
that Captain De Caulp was sick at Atlanta, and resolved to make an
effort to get there for the purpose of seeing him.
I was spared the necessity, however, of being obliged to
make any special plans for the accomplishment of this end, for I
managed to severely hurt the foot which had been wounded shortly
after the battle of Fort Donelson, and became so lame that it was
decided to send me to Atlanta for medical treatment.
CHAPTER XXVI.
IN THE HOSPITAL.
The Kind of People an Army is made up of. — Gentlemen
and Blackguards. — The Demoralization of Warfare. — How I managed
to keep out of Difficulties.
— The Value of a Fighting Reputation. — A Quarrel with a drunken General. — I
threaten to shoot him. — My Illness, and the kind Attentions received
from
Friends. — I am admitted to the Empire Hospital. — The Irksomeness
of a Sick-bed. — I learn that my Lover is in the same Hospital, and
resolve to see him as soon as I am convalescent.
N
army is made up of all kinds of people, — the rougher element
of masculine human
nature, of necessity, predominating; and not
the least of the evil effect of a great war is,
that it tends to develop a spirit of ruffianism,
which, when times of peace return, is of
no benefit to society. A man who is instinctively a
gentleman, will be one always, and in spite of the
demoralizing influences of warfare; but one who is
only a gentleman by brevet, and whose native blackguardism
is only concealed on ordinary occasions by a superficial
polish of cultivation, will be apt to show himself a blackguard
at the earliest opportunity amidst camp associations.
Such men are usually cringing sycophants before their superiors,
bullies to those who are under them, shirks when fighting
is going on, and plunderers when opportunities for plunder
are offered. It is creditable to the American people, as a
class, that the great armies which contended with each other
so earnestly during four long, weary years of warfare, were
disbanded and dismissed to their homes with so little injury
to society; for, under the very best auspices, war is not calculated to
make men good citizens, while it is pretty certain to make those who
are ruffians and blackguards already, worse than they were before
they took up arms.
During the time that I wore the uniform of a Confederate officer, I
was, of course, brought into contact with all sorts of
people, — blackguards as well as gentlemen, — and had some
pretty good opportunities for studying masculine character.
The warnings that had been given me with regard to the
most peculiarly unpleasant and disgusting features of camp
life, I very speedily discovered were only too well founded;
and had I been possessed by a less fervid enthusiasm for
the cause, or a less resolute determination to carry out my purpose,
I might at an early day have given the whole thing up
in disgust. I got accustomed, however, in time to rough, profane,
even dirty language, and did not mind it; or, at least, did
not permit myself to be annoyed by it. The best and most
highly esteemed of my acquaintances in the army permitted
themselves a license of language and conduct that they would
not have ventured upon in the society of ladies; but this,
while it shocked me somewhat at first, I finally came to regard
as a matter of course; and when I heard things from the lips
of those whom I knew to be gentlemen at heart, which offended
my ears, I regarded the annoyance I felt as one of the penalties
of the anomalous position I occupied, and very speedily
learned to bear with it.
It was different, however, with another class of men, who seemed
to take delight in showing, on every possible occasion, what
consummate blackguards they were. These I ever regarded with
loathing and contempt; and I hope that some of them will undertake
the perusal of this narrative, in order that they may know what I think
of them.
Keeping The Peace.
With the ruffianly elements of an army it was exceedingly difficult
for decent, peaceably-disposed people to get along on any terms.
An indisposition to quarrel was regarded as an evidence of
cowardice; and as your genuine bully delights in nothing more than
in tormenting one whom he imagines will not fight, a reputation for
being willing to fight, on the shortest notice, is an excellent thing to
have by one who desires to avoid getting into difficulties.
Situated as I was, it was especially important that I should not
quarrel if I could help it; but I was not long in finding out that, as
quarrelling was necessary sometimes, the bold course was the best,
both for the present and the future, and that by promptly resenting
anything approaching an insult, I would be likely to avoid being
insulted thereafter. I, therefore,
very speedily let it be known that I was ready to fight at a
moment's notice, if there was any real occasion for fighting; but, at
the same time, that I desired to live peaceably with everybody, and
was not inclined to quarrel if I was let alone. The result of this line of
policy was, that, as a general rule, I got along smoothly enough,
but occasionally I could not avoid an angry controversy with somebody;
and when I did become involved in anything of the kind, I usually tried
to give my antagonist to understand, in plain terms, that I was not an
individual to be trifled with.
On my arrival at Atlanta, I unfortunately had a little
unpleasantness, which caused me very serious disquietude for a time,
owing to the peculiar situation in which I was placed, and which might
have had some ill results, either for the person who started the
quarrel or for myself, had it not been for the good judgment and
consideration of one or two of my friends, who persuaded me not to
resort to any extreme measures.
I was expecting to see Captain De Caulp, and was very anxious with
regard to him, as I did not know exactly what his condition was, and
feared that he might be seriously ill. It was my intention to go to him,
to devote myself to him if he should need my services, and perhaps
to reveal myself to him. Indeed, I pretty much made up my mind that
our marriage should take place as soon as he was convalescent; and,
in view of such an event occurring shortly, I was in no humor for a
mere bar-room squabble with a drunken ruffian, and would have
avoided such a thing at almost any cost, could I have had warning
with regard to its probability. More than this, in addition to the
lameness of my foot, I was really quite sick, and at the time of the
occurrence ought to have been in bed under the doctor's care, and
was consequently less disposed than ever to engage in a brawl.
A Drunk And Disorderly General.
Unsuspecting any trouble, however, I went to the hotel, and
registered my name, and was almost immediately surrounded by a
number of officers, who were eager to learn what was going on at the
front. Among them was General F., — I do not give his name in full for
his own sake, — an individual who thought more of whiskey than he
did of his future existence, and who was employing his time in
getting drunk at Atlanta, instead of doing his duty at the front by leading his men.
He saw that I was a little fellow, and probably thought, on
that account, he could bully me with impunity; so, while I
was answering the thousand and one questions that were put to me,
he began making offensive and insulting remarks, and asking me
insolent questions, until I longed to give him a lesson in good
manners that he would not forget in a hurry, and resolved that I
would make an effort to chastise him if he did not behave himself.
This was one of the class of men for which I had a hearty
contempt; and, as I neither wished to be annoyed by his drunken
insolence, nor to quarrel with him if I could avoid it,
I left the office and went into the wash-room. The general evidently
considered this a retreat due to his prowess, — prowess
which he was careful not to make any great display of within the
smell of gunpowder, — and he followed me, apparently determined to
provoke me to the utmost. I, however, took no notice of him, but,
after washing my hands, came out and took a seat in the office beside
my esteemed friend, Major Bacon — a thorough gentleman in every sense of the word.
My persecutor still following me, now came and seated himself on
the other side of me, and made some insolent remark — which I do not
care to remember. This excited my wrath, and I resolved to put a stop
to the tipsy brute's annoyances. I accordingly said to him, "See here, sir, I
don't want to have anything to do with you, so go away and let me be, or it
will be worse for you."
At this he sprang up, his eyes glaring with drunken fury, and
swinging his arms around in that irresponsible way incident
to inebriety, he began to swear in lively fashion, and said, "What'll
be worse for me? What do you mean? I'll lick you out of your boots!
I can lick you, or any dozen like you."
Nice talk, this, for a general, who was supposably a gentleman,
wasn't it? I merely said, in reply, "You are too drunk, sir, to be
responsible. I intend, however, when you are sober, that you shall
apologize to me for this, or else make you settle it in a way that will,
perhaps, not be agreeable to you."
He glared at me as I uttered these words; but my firm manner
evidently cowed him, and turning, with a coarse, tipsy laugh, he said,
to an officer who was standing near
watching the performance, "Come, colonel, let's take another drink;
he won't fight;" and they accordingly walked off towards the bar-room together.
This last remark enraged me to such a degree, that I declared I
would shoot him if he came near me again. Major Bacon tried to
pacify me, and said that I had better let him alone, as he was not
worth noticing. After considerable persuasion I concluded that there
was very little credit to be got by following up a quarrel with such a
blackguard, and made up my mind to have nothing to do with him, if
it was possible to avoid him.
The general did not come near me until after supper, when I met
him again at the bar. As I had not undertaken to punish him for his
behavior to me, he evidently thought that I was afraid of him; and,
without addressing me directly, he began to make insulting side
remarks, aimed at me. I was on the point of going up and slapping his
face, when Major Bacon and Lieutenant Chamberlain, thinking that it
was not worth while for me to get into trouble about such a fellow,
induced me to go to my room.
Already quite ill, and far from able to be about, the excitement of
this unpleasant occurrence made me worse, and I passed a night of
great suffering from a high fever, and from my sore foot, which
pained me extremely. The major waited on me in the kindest manner,
bathing my foot with cold water, and procuring some medicine for me
from the hospital steward, and towards morning I fell into a sound sleep,
which refreshed me greatly, although I was still very sick.
In the morning Major Bacon ordered me some breakfast, of which,
however, I was able to eat but little. While I was breakfasting, he
said, "How are you off for money, lieutenant?"
"I have only twenty-four dollars in my pocket just now," I replied,
"but I intend to send to Mobile for some to-day."
"Well," said he, "you may need some before yours comes, so
here's one hundred and fifty dollars at your service. I will have to
leave at five o'clock, but before I go I will try and see that you are in
good hands, and in a way to be well taken care of."
The major then went out, and about two o'clock returned with Dr.
Hay, who prescribed for me. During the afternoon I was visited by a
number of my friends, who appeared to be solicitous for my welfare,
and who did their best to cheer me
up. I was too sick, however, to enjoy their company much, although I
appreciated their kind intentions. I really felt sad at the idea of
being forsaken by Major Bacon, who would gladly have staid by me
had he not been under positive orders to leave. When the time came
for him to go, he shook me by the hand, and said, "Lieutenant, my
boy, I will have to leave you now. Lieutenant Chamberlain and the
doctor will take good care of you, and I hope you will be up soon."
I asked the major to write to me, and he promised to do so, and
bidding me good-by, he took his departure. After Major Bacon had
gone, Lieutenant Chamberlain took charge of me, and I shall ever be
grateful for the unwearied kindness of his attention. There was
nothing I desired, that was procurable, that he did not get for me,
and had I been his own relative he could not have done more to
promote my comfort.
In The Hospital.
As I got worse instead of better, however, it was concluded that
the hospital was the best place for me, and to the Empire Hospital I
accordingly was sent, by order of the chief surgeon of the post. I
was first admitted into Dr. Hammond's ward, and subsequently into
that of Dr. Hay. Dr. Hay, who was a whole-souled little fellow, is
dead, but Dr. Hammond is still living, and I am glad of such an
opportunity as this of testifying to his noble qualities. During the
entire period I was under his care in the hospital, he treated me, as he
did all his patients, with the greatest kindness.
O, but these were sad and weary days that I spent in the hospital!
I cannot tell how I longed, once more, to be out in the open air and the
sunshine, and participating in the grand scenes that were being
enacted not many miles away. My restless disposition made
sickness especially irksome to me, and I felt sometimes as if I
could scarcely help leaving my bed, and going as I was to the front,
for the purpose of plunging into the thickest of the fight; while at
other moments, when the fever was strong upon me, I almost wished
that I might die, rather than to be compelled to toss about thus on a
couch of pain.
There was one consolation, however, in all my sufferings, which
sustained me, and made me measurably patient and contented to
endure the irksomeness of the restraint which my illness placed
upon me, — I was near the man I loved, and
hoped soon to have an opportunity to see and to converse with him. I
learned soon after my admission to the hospital that Captain De
Caulp was in Dr. Benton's ward, adjoining that under the charge of Dr.
Hay; and to be under the same roof with him, and the probability that
ere long I would be able to see him again, helped me to bear up under
the suffering I was called upon to endure. I resolved that if Captain
De Caulp was willing, our marriage should take place so soon as we
were able to leave the hospital; and I busied myself in wondering
what he would say when he discovered what strange pranks I had
been playing since we had been corresponding as lovers. I almost
dreaded to reveal to him that the little dandified lieutenant, who had
volunteered to fight in his company at Shiloh, and the woman to
whom he was bound by an engagement of marriage, were the same;
but I felt that the time for the disclosure to be made had arrived, and
was determined to make it at the earliest opportunity.
CHAPTER XXVII.
A STRANGE STORY OF TRUE LOVE.
Sick-bed Fancies — Reflections on my military
Career. — I almost resolve to
abandon the Garb of a Soldier. — Difficulties in the Way of achieving
Greatness. — Warfare as a laborious Business. — The Favors of
Fortune
sparingly bestowed. — Prospective Meeting with my
Lover. — Anxiety to know
what he would think of the Course I had been pursuing in figuring in the
Army
as a Man. — A strange Courtship. — More like a Chapter of Romance
than a
grave Reality. — My Recollections of an old Spanish Story, read in my
Childhood, that in some respects reminds me of my own Experiences. — The
Story of Estela. — How the Desires of a Pair of Lovers were opposed
by stern
Parents. — An Elopement planned. — The Abduction of Estela
through the
Instrumentality of a Rival. — She is carried off by Moorish Pirates,
and sold as
a Slave. — Her Escape from Slavery, and how she entered the Army of
the
Emperor disguised as a Man. — Estela saves the Emperor's Life, and is
promoted
to a high Office. — Her Meeting with her Lover, and her Endeavors to
make
him confess his Faith in her Honor. — The Appointment of Estela as
Governor
of her native City. — The Trial of her Lover on the Charge of having
murdered her. — Happy Ending of the Story. — I am inspired, by my
Recollections of the Story of Estela, to hear from the Lips of my Lover his
Opinion of me before I reveal myself to him. — Impatient Waiting for the
Hour of Meeting.
HILE
tossing upon my sick-bed in the
hospital, I was compelled, for very lack
of other occupation, to think of many
things that, under ordinary circumstances,
busied as I habitually was with innumerable
ambitious schemes, would never have pressed
themselves upon my mind with the force they now did. This
was a strange life I had been leading now
for more than two years, and yet it was the
kind of a life that, from my earliest childhood, I had ardently longed
to lead. I had some understanding now of what the great discoverers,
adventurers, and soldiers, who were the idols of my childish
imagination, had been compelled to go through with before they won
the undying fame
that was theirs, and I comprehended, to some degree, how hard a
thing it was to win fame.
For myself, I had played my part in the great drama of war with
what skill I could command; and, although I had not played it
altogether unsuccessfully, the chances that fame and the applause
of future ages would be mine, seemed as remote as ever. Warfare,
despite all that was terrible and horrible about it, was, to the majority
of those who participated in it, a most commonplace, practical, and
far from exciting business, in which the chances for eminent distinction
seldom appeared, and in which Fortune showered her favors
only on a chosen few. And yet there was an almost irresistible
fascination in being an active participant in the great events upon
which the destinies of a continent were hanging, and the possibility
that, at any moment almost, something might occur by which the
humblest among the host of combatants would be immortalized,
gave a zest to the hard work, and an inspiration to exertion.
Had I continued in health, the probabilities are that the idea of
abandoning the cause I had chosen before the close of the war,
would never have been permitted to take lodgment in my brain, and
I would have gone on from one adventure to another, in spite of
every discouragement and disappointment, hoping always that I
would be able to achieve something great. Now, however, lying upon
my sick-bed, I could not but confess to myself that I was
disappointed, and that I was following a will-o'-the-wisp in striving to
gain for myself a great name by heroic deeds. Although I had no
regrets for the course I had pursued, and as I reviewed in my mind
the momentous events in which I had been an active
participant during the two years I had been wearing a Confederate
officer's uniform, my heart beat proudly at the recollection
of them, I nevertheless almost concluded that I had had
enough of this, and that it was time for me to exchange my uniform
for the attire of my own sex once more, and in good earnest, with the
intention of never resuming it again.
Thoughts Of Love.
These were sick fancies, and I felt ashamed of myself at times for
my weakening in the resolution I had formed to see the thing through
at all hazards, in some shape, and, if there
was a possibility of doing it, of making for myself a great
name as a soldier. But there were other influences at work to make me
doubtful of the propriety of my longer continuing the hazardous
experiment of passing myself off as a man. In an adjoining ward of
the hospital was my lover, to a speedy meeting with whom I was
looking forward with many fond anticipations. How would he
regard my conduct? And should he, as I hoped he would, be proud
of my efforts to advance the Confederate cause by doing a soldier's
duty, would he be willing that I should longer continue to wear my
uniform, especially if we should conclude to have our marriage
solemnized at an early day? These were questions that pressed
themselves upon me, and that, even more than the dispiriting
influences of a sick-room, made me half repent that I had ever
assumed male attire, and made me more than half resolve to
permanently abandon it so soon as I was out of the hospital.
I was curious, however, rather than apprehensive, with regard to
the effect of the disclosures I would have to make when I met
Captain De Caulp. There was nothing that I had done that I need
blush for, while he had himself been the witness, on one momentous
occasion, of my prowess as a warrior, and I longed to hear him
repeat to me, as a woman, the praise he had so freely bestowed upon
me as a man when we fought side by side at Shiloh.
What a strange courtship ours had been! The only time we had
met since our engagement was on the field of battle, and in the midst
of scenes of carnage, and here we both were now, sick in adjoining
wards of the same hospital; I, longing to be with him, but unable to
go to his side; and he, all unconscious that the woman he loved was
so near; sighing, doubtless, for the time to come when our futures
would be united, but never dreaming that the future he sighed for
was so near at hand. It was like a romance, and it was in the scenes
of a romance, the memories of which floated through my mind as I
thought over the situation, that I alone could find any similitude to it.
I recollected, as I reviewed the circumstances of my own case, an
old Spanish novela, which I had read when a girl, and which had long
since passed out of mind with other childish memories, but the
incidents of which now came back to me with singular vividness, on
account of a certain resemblance they had to points in my own
career. The author's name I forgot, but I distinctly remembered the
story, which
was one of a collection in an old book I was fond of perusing when
at home under my father's roof at the Puerto de Palmas plantation in
Cuba.
The Story Of Estela.
The name of the heroine of this tale was Estela, and she was
beloved by a handsome, rich, and gallant young man, — all the heroes in
these old Spanish novels are young, handsome, rich, and of high
birth, and all the heroines are marvels of beauty, — and for a long time
the course of true love ran smoothly enough. At length, however, a
young grandee, of enormous wealth, also became enamoured of
Estela; and although he failed to win the affection of the lady, he
succeeded, without any difficulty, in becoming the choice of her
parents; not that they had any objections to Don Carlos, — which I
believe was the name of Estela's lover, — but that his rival promised to
be a more splendid match for their daughter. Don Carlos was,
therefore, forbidden to hold any correspondence with the object of
his adoration, but, as Estela continued true to him in spite of her
parents' opposition, they were accustomed to meet surreptitiously,
through the agency of the lady's waiting-maid and the gentleman's
page, who arranged secret interviews for them.
Now, it so happened that while the pair were thus carrying on their
secret courtship, the page of Don Carlos took sick and died. It was
not many days, however, before a handsome youth applied to be
taken into his service, who proved himself so zealous and faithful that
he was soon intrusted with all his master's secrets. This youth,
however, was a woman, who had fallen in love with Don Carlos, and
who, unable to attract his attention in any other way, had resorted to
this means of bringing herself to his notice, and of being near him, in
the hope that something would occur to enable her to win his love.
The heroines of these old Spanish romances seem to have had a
decided fancy for masquerading in male attire, and it is not unlikely
that this propensity on their part had some effect in encouraging in
me a desire to assume the dress of the other sex for the purpose of
seeking adventures. I can call to mind many more stories than the one
I am endeavoring to give a brief outline of, in which the women
attempt, for the accomplishment of different ends, to figure as men,
and it is
scarcely possible that I was uninfluenced by a perusal of the
narratives of their exploits.
The new page, as I have stated, easily gained the entire confidence
of Don Carlos, and was employed as the messenger between him and
his lady-love. She, however, soon found that he was so much
absorbed in Estela, that it was useless to hope to win him, unless her
rival could be removed; and she accordingly set about devising a
plan for the accomplishment of this end. An opportunity soon
offered; for the parents of Estela, despite her unwillingness, were
determined that she should accept the hand of the lover of their
choice, and made their arrangements for a speedy wedding. Estela, of
course, informed Don Carlos of this, and he, seeing that his bride
would be lost to him unless he acted with decision, persuaded her to
consent to an elopement with him to another city, where their
marriage could take place.
The fictitious page was, of course, informed of all that was
proposed by the lovers, and felt that the time had now come for her
to interfere. Don Carlos and Estela, having arranged for the
elopement to take place on a certain night, the lady wrote a letter to
her parents, stating that, unable to endure the idea of marrying, at
their dictation, a man whom she did not love, she had ventured to
incur their displeasure by uniting herself with Don Carlos, for whom,
as they well knew, she had long borne a tender regard.
The page, to whom had been intrusted the task of conducting the
lady to a rendezvous, where her lover would be waiting with horses
to bear them away beyond the reach of pursuit until the marriage
should take place, basely betrayed the trust confided to her,
however, and, instead of delivering Estela to her lover, took her to
where some Moorish pirates were in waiting, by whom she was
seized, and carried off to Algiers, to be sold as a slave. The pirates, as
a precaution against treachery, insisted upon the page going with
them; and thus Estela became informed that her betrayer was a
woman, and also learned the reason for her conduct.
On the disappearance of Estela being discovered, the only clew to
the mystery was the letter she had written, announcing her intention
of eloping with Don Carlos; and that gentleman, who had been
waiting anxiously and impatiently for her, and who was lost in
wonder at her non-appearance at the rendezvous, was accused of
having spirited her away, and perhaps of having murdered her. He
was not only overwhelmed
with anguish at such a charge being brought against him, but was
sorely perplexed to know what had become of the lady; and, as day
after day passed by, and no tidings of her were received, he at length
forced himself to believe that she had proved false to him, had
accepted the page for a lover, and had fled with him. In the mean time
the indignation against him increased, and the suspicions that he
was the murderer of his mistress grew into certainty in many minds.
His trial, on the charge of murder, was therefore ordered; but, determined
not to be made the victim of a false woman's treachery if he
could avoid it, he made his escape from prison, and, flying to Italy,
entered the army of the emperor, Charles V., as a common soldier.
In the mean while, Estela, after passing through many strange
adventures in the land of the Moors, at length succeeded in making
her escape, in male attire, and she, too, joined the army of the
emperor, which was then besieging some Moorish town. In a skirmish
which occurred soon after, she had the good fortune to save the life
of the emperor, who, finding that she was a person of education and
talents, appointed her — little suspecting her to be a woman — to an
important position near his own person. Estela soon became the
emperor's favorite officer, and he delighted in heaping honors upon
her, she, all the while, longing only for an opportunity to return to her
own country, for the purpose of seeking her lover.
One day, however, she was amazed to behold a soldier in the ranks
who reminded her greatly of Don Carlos, and, on engaging in
conversation, found that it was indeed he. She, therefore, took him to
her tent, and, by degrees, succeeded in inducing him to tell his story.
That he should have suffered so much on her account, grieved her
exceedingly; but her womanly pride was touched that he should
suspect her honor, and she resolved to try and induce him to have a
better opinion of her than he professed, before revealing herself.
Appointing Don Carlos to the post of secretary, she engaged him,
almost daily, in conversation about his lost love, and endeavored, by
various means, to persuade him that Estela might be guiltless.
The melancholy of Don Carlos, however, increased the more the
matter was talked about. He could not help confessing that he still
loved Estela tenderly, despite her unworthiness, but it was
impossible to induce him to think that she
was not unworthy. That he still loved her, was some consolation to
Estela, but it piqued her that he should be unwilling to admit that
there might be some explanation of her strange disappearance that
would relieve her of blame. While devising in her mind some plan for
bringing Don Carlos to reason, she learned that the governor of her
native city had suddenly died. This suggested a means of
accomplishing her purpose, and she accordingly applied to the
emperor for the vacant office. Her request was granted, and she set
off immediately to take possession of the governorship, Don Carlos
going with her, feeling sure that, as one of the new governor's
household, he would be free from molestation on account of the old
charge against him, or, at least, that he would be able to receive a fair
and impartial trial.
So soon as the new governor was installed, and it was found that
Don Carlos was in his suite, the parents of Estela, and other
prominent citizens, stated what the accusations against him were,
and demanded that he be brought to trial, and punished according to
law. The governor promised that strict justice should be done, and
appointed a day for the trial to take place, refusing, however, to
permit Don Carlos to be sent to prison, and promising to be
responsible for him.
Up to the time of the trial the conferences between the
governor and the secretary were frequent, and Estela redoubled
her efforts to make her lover acknowledge, not only
that he loved, but that he still had infinite faith in his lady.
This, as I recollect it, was the most intensely interesting and
exciting part of the story, and it made a strong impression on my
imagination. I thought the lady cruel in unnecessarily prolonging the
misery of her lover, and at the same time, although I was but a child
when I read the story, I could not but appreciate the feelings which
induced her to desire that Don Carlos should confess that he had
banished all unworthy suspicion of her from his mind before she
cleared up the mystery of her disappearance.
At length the confession was forced from the unhappy man, that,
as Estela had never given him reason to think, by any levity of
conduct, that she was capable of loving another than himself, much
less that she was capable of basely forsaking him for one less
worthy, he still, in his inmost soul, had faith in her honor, and that
the dream of his life was, that he might be able to be reunited to her.
The day of trial came, and Estela, as the chief magistrate
of the city, sat upon the bench, with the other judges, to the hear the
case. The various witnesses who appeared related the story of Estela's
disappearance; her letter, announcing her proposed flight with Don
Carlos, was produced; the servants who had been cognizant of the
clandestine meetings of the lovers related in detail all they knew
about the frequent interviews Don Carlos had had with Estela,
without the knowledge of her parents; to all of which the accused
could oppose nothing but a simple denial of his guilt.
The disguised Estela, in her character of governor, said, with a
frown, and with pretended severity, that, had she known there was
such a weight of evidence against Don Carlos, she could never have
given him her protection, or have continued him in his office of
secretary. The only way in which his innocence could be proved, in
the face of such testimony, was by the appearance of Estela, but that,
if she could not be produced, it would be necessary to pronounce
condemnation.
The miserable man now threw himself at the feet of the governor,
and besought him to remember how, long before either of them had
any reason to believe they would be called upon to appear before
each other in the character of accused and judge, he had told his
whole story, and had confessed his love for Estela, despite the reason
he had for believing that she had acted basely to him, and how, but a
brief time before, he had not only acknowledged his unaltered
affection, but his faith in Estela's honor, and besought that true
justice might be done, despite what seemed to be an accumulation of
evidence against him.
Estela, moved by these entreaties, and overcome by the
confession of enduring love and of faith in her honor, made in the
presence of a great assembly, was unable longer to restrain herself,
and she therefore proclaimed that, notwithstanding the evidence, as
she knew Don Carlos to be innocent, she would order his release.
This excited a loud murmur of discontent; whereupon the governor,
commanding silence, revealed herself to the marvelling crowd as the
lost Estela, and, throwing herself in the arms of Don Carlos, asked his
pardon for the severe tests she had put him to for the purpose of
proving that his affection for her was the same as ever.
The lovers were married without delay, and, as the hero and
heroine of a novel ought to be, they were happy ever afterwards, the
emperor giving to Don Carlos the governorship
of the city in place of Estela, — who preferred to relinquish
masculine duties with masculine attire, — and otherwise making the
reunited pair the recipients of favors which testified, in a practical
manner, his esteem for them.
This is but a feeble and incomplete recital of a very pretty story,
and is only entitled to a place in this narrative of my own adventures,
because it was so much in my thoughts at the particular period of
which I am now writing, and because it inspired me to imitate Estela's
example so far as to seek to obtain a confession of love from Captain
De Caulp, before I should reveal myself to him. I was filled with an
eager desire to hear what he would say of me to his friend, the
supposed Lieutenant Buford, and having arranged in my mind what I
should say to him when we met, I waited, with ill-disguised impatience,
for the time to come when I could put my plan in execution, trying to
imagine, all the while, what would be the effect upon him when the
whole truth was made known.
It was a weary while waiting, though, for the hour of meeting to
come, and, had my physicians permitted it, I would have left my sick-bed
to go to Captain De Caulp long before I was really able to be on
my feet. Dr. Hammond, however, knew better what was good for me
than I knew myself, and he constrained me to remain under his care
until he should be able to pronounce me able to care for myself once
more; and, as there was no use in resisting his orders, I obeyed them
perforce, with what patience I could command.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
AGAIN A WIFE AND AGAIN A WIDOW.
Convalescence. — I pay a Visit to my Lover. — A
friendly Feeling. — A
Surprise in Store for him. — I ask him about his matrimonial
Prospects,
and endeavor to ascertain the State of his Affections towards
me. — An
affecting Scene. — The Captain receives a Letter from his
Lady-love. — "She has come! She has come!" — The
Captain prepares for a
Meeting with his Sweetheart. — A Question of Likeness. — A puzzling
Situation. — I reveal my Identity. — Astonishment and Joy of my
Lover. — Preparations for our Wedding. — A very quiet Affair
proposed. — The Wedding. — A short Honeymoon. — Departure of
my Husband for
the Front. — My Apprehensions for his Health. — My Apprehensions
justified in the News of his Death in a Federal Hospital in Chattanooga.
— Once more a Widow.
FTER
a weary waiting, which I thought would never end, both Captain
De Caulp and myself were convalescent. At the earliest moment that
I could obtain permission to leave my ward I went to see him, being
naturally more impatient for a meeting than he was; for, although we
had exchanged greetings through our physicians, it was simply as
friends and officers of the Confederate army, and not as lovers, and
he had no suspicion whatever that his sick neighbor of the hospital
was other than the young lieutenant whose acquaintance he had
formed at Pensacola, and who had fought beside him at Shiloh.
He was extremely glad to see me, however, much more so than I
expected he would be; but the fact was, it had been so long since he
had had a chance to chat with any of his old friends, that it was a
genuine pleasure to him to have any one call on him for the sake of a
lively talk over old times. I found him sadly reduced and worn by the
severe illness through which he had just passed; but, although he
was weak, he was evidently improving, and in a fair way for a rapid
recovery.
When I came in and stood by his bedside, he smiled, and held out
his hand, and said, "I am mighty glad to see you again, lieutenant. It
is like meeting a brother."
A Delicate Subject.
I said that I was
rejoiced to meet him again, and would
have called on him much sooner had the doctors permitted it.
I then asked him how he was coming on, about the nature of
his sickness, and matters of that kind, and gradually drifted
into a conversation about things in general, — the progress of
the war, the people we knew, matters at home, — and so led
him up to the subject about which I particularly desired to
speak with him. After some little preliminary talk, which
would enable me to bring the question in naturally, without
exciting suspicion that I had any but a merely friendly interest
in the matter, I said, "Captain, are you married yet? You
know you told me some time ago you were engaged, and were
expecting very shortly to ask the lady to name the day."
"No," said he, "the
wedding has not come off yet, but I
hope it will very shortly. I should have gone home for the purpose
of getting married if I had kept my health, but this spell of sickness
has knocked all my plans in the head."
"Does the lady know that
you are sick?" I asked. "Have you
heard from her recently?"
"I doubt whether she
does," he replied. "I have been expecting to
hear from her for some time, and have been greatly disappointed that
I have not. The last letter I had stated that she would meet me here;
but for several months I have been unable to communicate with her,
and am unable to even guess where she is, or why she has not come
to me."
He then raised up, and
took the letter he referred to out of a
package, evidently made up of my epistles, and read it to me. He also
showed me a picture of myself, which he produced from some hiding-place
in his pocket, and handed it to me, saying, "That is the woman I love;
what do you think of her?"
A Portrait And Its Original.
This was almost too much
for me; and all trembling with emotion, I
handed it back to him, saving, "She is a fine-looking woman;" and
wondering he did not observe the resemblance between the portrait
and the original before him.
"Yes," said he, "and she
is just as good as she is good-looking. I
think the world of her, and want to see her again — O, so bad!"
"Have you known her
long, captain?" I asked, with a trembling
voice, and scarcely daring to trust myself to speak, for these words,
and the tender tone in which they were spoken, made my heart leap
with joy, and brought tears to my eyes. I was afraid that he would
notice my agitation, and in some way surmise the cause of it; and I did
not want him to do this, for I was not yet ready to reveal myself, but
desired further to hear what he would say about me before I told him
my secret. So I turned away, and pretended to be attracted by some
object in another part of the room while I wiped the tears from my
eyes, and attempted to recover my composure before I confronted him
again.
"Yes," he went on, "I
have known her for a long time. She is a
widow, and her husband was an excellent friend of mine." Then,
apparently suddenly recollecting the circumstances under which he
first made my acquaintance in the character of a Confederate officer,
he said, glancing quickly and eagerly at me, "Why, you ought to
know her; her husband was the first captain of our company; you
recollect him, surely."
"O," said I, as if
rather surprised at this revelation, "she is his
widow, is she?"
"Yes," said Captain De
Caulp; "you have met her, have you not?"
I could scarcely help
smiling at the turn this conversation was
taking; and still wondering whether my lover would be shrewd
enough to detect the likeness between the picture he was holding in
his hand, and fondly gazing at, and the original of it who was sitting
by his bedside, I said, "Yes, I have had a slight acquaintance with
her, but you, probably, have known her longer than I have. When did
you see her last?"
"I have not seen her for
three years," he replied.
"Have you been engaged
to her that long?"
"O, no; I did not become
engaged to her until about six months
after the death of her husband. He was killed, as you know, at
Pensacola, just after the war commenced, by the bursting of a
carbine."
"Well, if you have not
seen her all that time, how have you
managed to do your courting?"
"O, that was easy
enough. After her husband's death, we had
some correspondence about the settlement of his affairs, and we kept
on writing to each other after these were arranged. I always had a
great liking for her, as I thought that she was a first-rate woman, of
the kind that you don't meet every day; and, consequently, after
about six months, I asked her to marry me. She was a sound, sensible,
patriotic woman, who admired me for going to the front more than she
would have done had I remained at home to court her, and she
accepted me without hesitation."
The Pleasures Of Courtship.
"I understand the
situation now, and I hope you have secured a
prize. It seems to me, however, that it would be pleasant for both
parties if you could do a little courting in person before you get
married; and if I were you, I would try and go to her."
"I intend to go to her
just as soon as I have health and strength
to travel, for I feel that I must see her."
"Yes," said I, "you
ought to go for your own sake as well as for
that of the lady. You have done enough hard fighting for the present,
and you are entitled to take a rest."
"I don't intend to leave
the army permanently unless I am obliged
to; but, as you say, I need a rest, and I am determined that I will go
home and get married if it costs me my commission. I am now
improving rapidly, and I trust that God will restore me to perfect
health soon."
"What would you
give," — and my voice was so choked with
emotion that I could scarcely utter these words, —
"What would you give if you could see your lady now?"
"O," said he, — and his
eye sparkled, and the color flushed into his
cheeks as he spoke, — "I would almost give my existence in heaven."
I could not bear to hear
any more; but dreading lest he should
notice my agitation, and inquire the cause of it, I made a hasty excuse
for concluding the interview, and saying good-by, left the room so
abruptly that he must have seen there was something the matter with
me.
It would be foolish in
me, in attempting to tell this story of the
culmination of my strange courtship, to make a secret of the emotions
that filled my breast at the results of this interview with Captain De
Caulp. I felt that I loved him
more than ever, and that he was more than worthy of me. I wept the
first genuine womanly tears I had shed for many a day, but they were
tears of joy, — of joy at the thought that I had such a lover as this,
and
that the day of our union was certainly not far distant.
The next morning I wrote
him a note in my proper person, stating
that I had arrived, and was coming to see him. On the receipt of this
he was nearly wild with excitement, and it was as much as Dr. Benton
could do to keep him in his bed. Burning with anxiety to see what the
effect upon him of the letter would be, I followed hard after the
bearer,
and waiting until he would have a fair opportunity to master its
contents, I passed by the door in such a manner that he could not fail
to see me. So soon as he caught sight of me, he called out, in an
exultant tone, "Lieutenant, come in. I want to talk to you;" and
holding out the note, which I had written but a few moments before,
towards me, he said, with the happiest smile I ever saw on a human
face, "She has come, — she has come, and will be here soon;
congratulate me, my friend."
An Agitating Occasion.
I was greatly agitated,
not only at the sight of his extreme
happiness, but because I felt that the dreaded hour was now come
when I must reveal my secret to him. I loved him most fondly; and it
was but yesterday that I had heard from his own lips assurances
of his affection for me, the verity of which it was impossible for me to
doubt; and yet I dreaded whether his feelings towards me might not
change when he heard my story. I felt that they ought not, and I did
not believe that they would; but I had heard so many men, and good
men too, speak harshly with regard to women undertaking to play the
rôle that I had, that my very love gave encouragement to my fears lest
Captain De Caulp — when he learned I had been in the army ever since
the outbreak of the war, and from before the date of our engagement,
disguised as a man — would regard my course with such disapproval
that he would refuse to consider the motives which induced me to
adopt the course I had taken.
The situation was, for
me, painful beyond expression; and
although I felt that the secret must now be told, I scarcely knew
how to tell it, or how to begin an even ordinary friendly conversation
with him. The disclosure which I was about to
make was, moreover, one that was meant for no other ears than his,
and was certainly not a proper one for the public ward of the hospital.
My first care, therefore, was to get him to a place where we could
converse without being overheard, and so I said, "Captain, I
congratulate you heartily, and I hope to have the pleasure of meeting
with your lady. As you expect to have a visit from her soon, and as
you will doubtless want to talk over a great number of confidential
matters, don't you think that it would be better if the doctor were to
move you into a private room?"
He said, "Yes; thank you
for the suggestion; that is just what I
would like. I wish you would tell the doctor I want to see him."
I accordingly conveyed
his message with all possible
despatch, and the doctor very cheerfully granted his request, and
had him taken to a private chamber. A barber was then sent
for, and he was shaved, and made to look as nicely as possible;
and it touched me deeply to notice what pains he took to
make himself presentable, in view of the expected arrival of
his lady-love, whom, by the anxious manner in which he
glanced at the door, he was evidently looking for every
minute, and almost dreading her arrival before he was ready
to receive her.
A Revelation To Be Made.
So soon as we were alone
together, I said gravely, "Now, captain,
I have something of great importance to say to you before your
sweetheart comes."
He looked at me
wonderingly, evidently impressed by my manner,
and apparently half fearing that something had occurred to defeat
his expectations.
I then knelt by the
bedside, and taking from my pocket a picture of
himself that he had sent me, and his last letter, said, "Did you ever
see these before?"
He glanced at them,
recognized them, and turned deadly pale. His
hand trembled so that he could scarcely hold the picture and the
letter, and looking at me with a scared expression, he gasped, "Yes,
they are mine! Where did you get them? Has anything happened?["]
"No, no, captain," I
exclaimed. "You must not be frightened;
nothing has happened that will be displeasing to you."
"But I don't
understand," he said; "how did you get these?"
"Ah!" I said, "that is
my secret just now. You know you told
me last night, when you showed me the portrait of your lady, that
you had not seen her for three years; are you so very sure of that?"
He still failed to
comprehend what I meant, and stared at me in
astonishment. I, therefore, went to his pocket, and got the picture,
and, placing it in his hand, said, "Now take a good look at that, and
tell me if you have not seen somebody very much like it inside of
three years."
He looked at the
picture, and then at me, with a most puzzled
expression, unable to say anything, until I, oppressed with his
silence, and unable to endure longer a scene that was becoming most
painful to both of us, said, "Well, captain, don't you think that the
picture of your lady-love looks the least bit like your friend Harry
Buford?"
Recognition.
A light seemed to
suddenly break upon him; he gasped for
breath, and sank back overcome on his pillow, the great drops
of perspiration standing out all over his forehead. Then,
raising himself, he looked me hard in the face, and, grasping
my hand tightly, exclaimed, "Can it be possible that you are
she?"
"Yes," said I, clasping
his hand still tighter, "I am, indeed,
your own Loreta. It was your sweetheart who fought by your side at
the great battle of Shiloh; and not only on that occasion, but ever
since the outbreak of the war she has been doing a soldier's work for
the cause of the Confederacy. Can you love her a little for that as well
as for herself? or will you despise her because she was not willing to
stay at home like other women, but undertook to appear on the
battle-field in the guise of a man for the purpose of doing a
man's duty?"
"I love you ten times
more than ever for this, Loreta!" he said, with
a vehemence that brought tears of joy to my eyes.
I then went into a long
explanation of my reasons for acting as I
had done, and gave him an outline of my adventures, reserving the
details for a future time when he would be stronger and less agitated.
He suggested that I should not reveal the
secret to any one else just at present; whereupon I proposed that we
should continue as we were until the war was over, I to make such
arrangements, however, as would enable me to be near him. He would
not listen to anything of this kind, but said, "No, my noble lady, I can
never permit that; I cannot consent to part from you again until I
have called you by the endearing name of wife." He then burst into
tears, and, leaning his face on my shoulder, said, between his sobs,
"O, Loreta, can it be possible that you have been so far from me, and
yet so near to me, all this time?"
a href="velazquez--woman_in_battle_files/velaz333.jpg">
This interview had
agitated both of us greatly, and, as
Captain De Caulp was still very weak, I was somewhat fearful
of the consequences to him; so I tore myself away, after
promising to see him again soon, and requesting him to compose
himself, and not let his excitement retard his recover.
The crisis was past for
me, and all was well. I had the strongest
assurances that a woman could have of the undivided love of as
noble a man as ever breathed; and to say that I was supremely
happy, but faintly expresses what I felt as I left the chamber of
Captain De Caulp. It all seemed like a dream to me, but it was a happy
one, and I desired never to awaken from it. I was of too practical and
decided a disposition, however, to give way to mere sentiment on
such an occasion as this; and the fact that my lover was still
confined to a sick-bed rendered it the more important that I should be
about, and making such preparations as were necessary for our
approaching marriage.
I felt quite strong
enough to leave the hospital, and told Dr. Hay
so. He was a little dubious about it; but finally consented that I
should go out on condition that I would take good care of myself,
and not attempt to enjoy out-of-door life too much of a sudden. As
he was himself about going out as I was prepared to leave the hospital,
I walked down the street with him, holding his arm. As we were
sauntering along, I asked him, "Doctor, how do you like Captain
De Caulp?"
"O, very much, indeed!"
said he. "He is a perfect gentleman in
every respect, and a man of very polished manners and superior
talents. He is of foreign extraction, think."
"Yes," said I, "I
believe he is. I have known him for five years,
and I think a great deal of him. I was with him at the battle
of Shiloh, and he behaved like a true hero."
"Ah, indeed!" said the
doctor; "I knew that you were acquainted,
but I did not know that you had served together during the war."
"Do you think he will
soon be well?" I inquired. "He seems to be
getting along quite nicely."
"O, yes, if he takes
proper care of himself. He has had a pretty
hard time of it, but I don't see any reason why he should not be in a
fair way for recovery now, provided nothing occurs to set him back.
He will have to look out, and not expose himself too much, however,
for a while yet."
At the corner of White
Hall Street I left the doctor to go to the
depot. He said, as I parted from him, "You must be careful, and not
exercise too much, lieutenant, or you will suffer for it. You are
scarcely fairly on your feet as yet."
I promised to take care
of myself, and went to the depot, arriving
there just as the down train was coming in. I met a number of
persons with whom I was acquainted, and after some conversation
with them, took a turn as far as General Wash. Lee's office, where I
had a chat about the way things were going at the front. I then
returned to the hospital, and asked for my discharge. This was
granted me, and I also obtained a ticket to go to Montgomery, where
I had some business to attend to.
On my arrival at
Montgomery, I found that the person I wanted to
see was at Camp Watts. I accordingly went there; and having seen
him, arranged the business I had made the trip for, and then returned
to Montgomery, where I remained all night. The next day I returned
to Atlanta, and went immediately to the hospital to visit Captain De
Caulp. To my great joy I found him out of bed, and so much improved
that he was confident of being well enough to walk out.
We, therefore, went down
to the Thompson House together, and I
engaged a room, and set about making preparations for my marriage.
I was anxious that the
affair should pass off as quietly as possible,
and particularly desired not to give any opportunity for unseemly
gossip or talk; and on discussing the matter with Captain De Caulp,
we came to the conclusion that it would be better to tell the whole
story to Drs. Benton and Hammond, and to ask them to witness the
ceremony, under a promise to say nothing to any one about the fact
of my having
worn the uniform of a Confederate officer. We, however,
resolved to take no one else into our confidence, although there were
several good friends of both of us in the town, whom we would have
been glad to have had at our wedding.
I procured a sufficiency
of woman's apparel for my wedding outfit,
by purchasing at a variety of places, under the pleas that I wanted the
garments for some persons out of town, or for presents to the girls at
the hotel — in fact, making up whatever story I thought would answer
my purpose. My trousseau was, perhaps, not so complete or so
elegant as it might have been under some circumstances, or as I
could have desired; but then, the particular circumstances under
which the wedding was to take place were peculiar, and neither the
bridegroom nor the bride was disposed to be over ceremonious, or
to make much ado about trifles. So long as the captain and myself
were satisfied, it did not much matter whether any one else was
pleased or not; and we both concluded that a very modest wardrobe
would be all that I would need, the main thing being that I should be
dressed as a woman when the ceremony took place, for fear of
creating too much of a sensation, and, perhaps, of making the
clergyman feel unpleasant should I appear before him, hanging on the
captain's arm, in my uniform.
My arrangements having
all been made, we concluded to inform
the friends whom we had agreed to invite; and accordingly we
walked to the hospital together, when the captain called Dr. Benton
into his private room, and astonished him by telling him that he was
going to be married, and by asking him to attend the wedding. I broke
the news as gently as I could to Dr. Hammond, who scarcely knew
what to make of it at first, but who, when I made him clearly
understand the situation, gave me his hearty congratulations, and
promised to be present when the happy event came off.
A Wedding.
The next day Captain De
Caulp and I were married in the parlor of
the hotel by the Rev. Mr. Pinkington, the post chaplain, in as quiet
and unpretentious a way as either of us could desire. The clergyman
and our kind friends wished us all manner of happiness; and we both
looked forward to a bright future, when, after the war was over, we
could settle down in
our home, and enjoy the blessings of peace in each other's society.
Alas! if wishes could only make us happy, there would be but little
misery in this world of ours. Neither Captain De Caulp nor myself,
as we stood up that day, and pronounced the words that made us
man and wife, had any but pleasant anticipations for the future, and
little imagined how brief a time we would be permitted to be together.
I was very desirous of
resuming my uniform, and of accompanying
my husband to the field. I wanted to go through the war with him,
and to fight by his side, just as I had done at Shiloh. He, however,
was bitterly opposed to this; and, with my ample knowledge of army
life, I could not but admit the full force of his objections. He
contended, that, apart from everything else, I had served my country
long enough as a soldier, and that I was under some obligation now
to think of him as well as of myself, and no longer to peril life,
health, and reputation by exposing myself, as I had been doing. He said
that he would fight twice as hard as before, and that would answer for
both of us, although he was not sure but that what I had done ought
to count in his favor, — as man and wife were one, — and procure
him a release from further service.
I very reluctantly
yielded an assent to his wishes, although,
if I could have looked a little into the future, I either would
have prevented his going to the front at all, or else would have
insisted upon going with him. Indeed, he ought not to have
gone when he did; but he knew that the services of every
man were needed, and so soon as he was at all able to be
on duty, he felt as if he was shirking his share of the work
by remaining at the rear when so much hard fighting was
going on.
Our honeymoon was a very
brief one. In about a week he thought
himself well enough to report for duty; and he insisted upon going,
notwithstanding my entreaties for him to remain until his health was
more robust. Had he been really fit to endure the exposure and toil of
campaigning, I would never have offered to stay him by a word; for
my patriotism, although perhaps not of so fiery a nature, was as
intense now as it was when I besought my first husband to permit me
to accompany him to the field; and I considered it the duty of every
man, who was at all able to take a hand in the great work of
resisting the advance of the enemy, to do so. But Captain De Caulp, I
knew, was far from being the strong man he once was,
and I feared the consequences should he persist in carrying out his
resolve.
He did persist, however,
in spite of all I could say; and so, when I
found that further argument would be useless, I prepared his
baggage, and bade him a sorrowful adieu. Alas! the adieu was a final
one, for I never saw him afterwards; and within three short weeks of
my marriage, I was a widow again!
Death Of My Husband.
Before reaching his
command, Captain De Caulp was taken sick
again; and before I obtained any information of his condition, he had
died in a Federal hospital in Chattanooga. This was a terrible blow to
me, for I tenderly loved my husband, and was greatly beloved by him.
Our short married life was a very happy one, and its sudden ending
brought to nought all the pleasant plans I had formed for the future,
and left me nothing to do but to launch once more on a life of
adventure, and to devote my energies to the advancement of the
Confederate cause.
Captain De Caulp was a
native of Edinburgh, Scotland. His father
was of French descent, and his mother was a Derbyshire woman. He
was very highly educated, having studied in England and France with
the intention of becoming a physician. His fondness for roaming,
however, induced him to abandon this design; and in 1857 he and his
brother came to this country, and travelled over the greater part of it
until 1859. In the last-named year he joined the United States army,
but on the breaking out of the war, he came South, and offered his
services to the Confederacy. From first to last he fought nobly for the
cause which he espoused, and he died in the firm belief that the
Southern States would ultimately gain their independence.
Few more honorable, or
truer, or braver, men than Captain De
Caulp have ever lived. He was tall in stature, with a very imposing
presence. His hair was auburn, and he had a large, full, dark, hazel
eye. He was a very powerful man, but as gentle as a child, and
exceedingly affable in his disposition, and remarkably prepossessing
in his manners. At the time of his death he was about twenty-nine
years of age. I made an endeavor to procure his body for the purpose
of sending it to his relatives in Scotland, in accordance with his last
request; but, owing to the exigencies of the military situation, — the
Federals being in possession of Chattanooga, — I was unable to do so.
Captain De Caulp's
brother was also in the Southern army, and also
held the rank of captain. He died in Nashville just after the close of
the war, leaving a wife, who died in New York.
CHAPTER XXIX.
IN THE CONFEDERATE SECRET SERVICE
Altered
Circumstances. — The Result of two Years and a
half Experience
in Warfare. — The Difference between the Emotions of a raw Recruit and
a Veteran. — Difficulties in the Way of deciding what Course it was
best to pursue for the Future. — I resolve to go to Richmond in Search
of active Employment of some Kind. — The military Situation in the
Autumn of 1863. — Concentration of the Armies at Richmond and
Chattanooga. — Richmond safe from Capture. — The Results of the
Battle of Chickamauga. — Rosecrans penned up in Chattanooga by
Bragg. — The Pinch of the Fight approaching. — Hopes of foreign
Intervention. — An apparently encouraging Condition of
Affairs. — I go to Richmond, and have Interviews with President Davis
and General Winder. — I am furnished by the latter with a Letter of
Recommendation, and start on a grand Tour through the
Confederacy. — Arrival at Mobile, and meeting with old Army
Friends.
HEN,
under the
influence of the grief
caused by the sudden death of my second
husband, within so brief a period after
our marriage, I felt impelled to devote
myself anew to the task of advancing the cause of
the Confederacy by all the means in my power, the
circumstances were all materially different from what
they were when, the first time I was made a widow, I
started for Virginia, full of the idea of taking part in
whatever fighting was to be done. It was no longer
possible for me to figure as successfully in the character of
a soldier as I had done. My secret was now known to a
great many persons, and its discovery had already caused me
such annoyance that I hesitated about assuming my uniform
again, especially as I believed that, as a woman, I could perform
very efficient service if I were only afforded proper opportunity.
At the time of my first
husband's death, I was full of an idea
which had filled my brain ever since I could remember, and
was bent upon accomplishing it at all hazards. I had attired myself in
the uniform of an officer, had enlisted a large body of men by my own
unaided exertions, had marched them from Arkansas to Pensacola,
and was firmly resolved to see some fighting, and to win some
military glory, if any was to be won. My desire was that my husband
should command the battalion I had raised, and should permit me to
serve with him. His death, however, frustrated my plans, and threw
me on my own resources. I was then inspired, not only with a desire
to win personal distinction, but to avenge him; and I started for the
front with the vaguest possible idea concerning what warfare really
was, or what I was to do. My main thought, however, was to see a
battle, and to take part in one. I had been reading all my life about
heroic deeds, and dreaming day and night about the achievement of
glory, and was, perhaps, more impressed with the notion of becoming
a second Joan of Arc than anything else.
After nearly two years
and a half experience of warfare, these early
ideas, when I reflected upon the hap-hazard manner in which I had
started out, appeared ludicrous enough in some of their aspects, and
yet I would have given a great deal could I have been impressed with
some of my original enthusiasm, when, a second time a widow, I
made up my mind again to take part, in some shape, in the great
conflict which was yet far from its close.
The Lessons Of Experience.
I had seen enough of
fighting, enough of marching, enough of
camp life, enough of prisons and hospitals, and I had passed through
enough peril and suffering to satisy any reasonable human being.
These experiences, however, while they had made me weary of war,
would also, I well knew, especially qualify me to perform any work I
might undertake in a most satisfactory manner, and would render my
services much more valuable than they could have been in the early
days of the contest. It was a feverish desire to be in motion, to be
doing something, to have occupation for mind and body, such as
would prevent me from dwelling on my griefs, more than any
ambitious designs or aspirations for personal distinctions, that now
impelled me to seek for employment in some shape, under the
Confederate government, which would enable me to do something
further to advance the interest of the
cause to which I had already given myself, heart and soul, during
more than two of the best years of my life.
That I did not feel
exactly the same enthusiasm now that I
did in the spring of 1861, was due, not to any feeling of coldness
towards the cause, nor to any lack of disposition to do anything in
my power to win the final victory, which I still hoped, in spite of
every discouragement, would crown our efforts, but to circumstances
which every veteran soldier will appreciate. These circumstances
were the more potent in my case from the fact that I was a woman,
and in endeavoring to carry out my notions with regard to the best
way of making my services of the utmost value, was consequently
hampered in many ways that men were not. For having dared to
assume a man's garb, for the purpose of doing a man's work, I
had been treated with contumely, on more than one occasion, by
those who ought at least to have given me credit for my
intentions, and although my comrades of the camp and the
battle-field — or at least all of them whose good opinion was worth
having — esteemed me for what I had done, and for what I tried to do,
bestowing
ample praise upon me for my valor and efficiency as a soldier, I was
getting out of the notion of subjecting myself to the liability of
being locked up by every local magistrate within whose jurisdiction
I happened to find myself, simply because I did not elect to dress
according to his notions of propriety.
A Perplexing Situation.
I was a little dubious,
therefore, with regard to what course
it was best for me to pursue, especially as, apart from all other
considerations, my health was not so robust as it had been, and my
husband's fate was a warning to me not to expose myself as I had
been in the habit of doing, at least until I had fully regained my
strength. On reviewing the whole subject in my
mind, I became more than ever convinced that the secret service
rather than the army would afford me the best
field for the exercise of my talent, although I almost more than half
made up my mind to enter the army again, and try
my luck, as I had originally done, disguised as an officer, in case I
found it impossible to become attached to the secret service
department in the manner I wished.
I finally concluded that
the best thing for me to do was to go to
Richmond, and if nothing else availed, to make a personal
appeal to President Davis, feeling assured that when he heard
my story he would appreciate the motives which animated me, and
would use his influence to have me assigned to such duty as I was
best qualified to perform in a satisfactory manner. This resolve having
once been made, I prepared, without more delay, to visit the capital of
the Confederacy, leaving behind me Atlanta, with its mingled
memories of pleasure and pain.
The Progress Of The War.
The military situation
at this time — the autumn of 1863 — was
of
painful interest, and the fate of the Confederacy seemed to hang
trembling in the balance. In Virginia, General Lee was defending
Richmond with all his old success, and was holding one immense
army in check so effectively that the prospect of ever entering the
Confederate capital as conquerors must have seemed to the enemy
more remote than ever. In the West and South, however, the
Confederates had lost much, and the question now with them was,
whether they would be able to hold what they had until the Federals
were tired out and exhausted, or until England and France, wearied of
the prolonged contest, consented to aid in terminating it by
recognizing the Confederacy, and perhaps by armed intervention.
It was known that there
were dissensions at the North, and that
there was a strong anti-war party, which it was expected would, ere
long, make its power felt as it had never done before; and if the
South could hold out for a season longer, would insist upon a peace
being concluded upon almost any terms. Great expectations were
also built upon foreign intervention, which every one felt had been
delayed longer than there was any just reason for, but which it was
thought could not but take place shortly. Every little while exciting
rumors were set afloat, no one knew how or by whom, that either
France or England had recognized the Confederacy, and many bitter
disappointments were caused when their falsity was proved. The
people, however, hoped on, getting poorer and poorer every day, and
eagerly watching the progress of the campaign around Chattanooga.
The Mississippi River
was now entirely in the hands of the
Federals, and not only were the trans-Mississippi states, as far as
any effective military or political co-operation was concerned,
lost to the Confederacy, but the question now was whether
the war was not to be transferred from the ground west of the
mountains to the rich fields of Georgia. Bragg had been compelled to
fall back with most of his forces to Chattanooga, and had been
expelled from that place, which was now in the hands of the Federals.
All efforts on the part of the Federals to advance beyond
Chattanooga, however, had utterly failed, and the opinion, at the time
of which I am writing, was gaining ground that they had been caught
in a trap, and would, in a short time, be incapable of either
advancing or retreating.
While I was in the
hospital, Bragg gained his great victory at
Chickamauga, and great hopes were excited that he would be able to
follow it up with effect, and succeed in destroying the army of
Rosecrans. Had he succeeded in doing this, the war would have had a
different ending, and the independence of the South would have been
secured. It was felt by everybody that the pinch of the fight was
approaching, and that in the neighborhood of Chattanooga, rather
than in that of Richmond, would the decisive battle of the war be
fought, and, it was hoped, won for the Confederacy.
It was at Richmond and
at Chattanooga that the contending forces
were massed, although there was plenty of fighting going on
elsewhere, and some of these minor campaigns were of great
importance in their influence on the fortunes of the war, and did much
to enable the Confederacy to prolong the contest for nearly eighteen
months.
Much as we had lost, the
situation was not an altogether discouraging
one for the Confederacy. Richmond was apparently more secure than it had
been two years and a half before, and nearly all the honors of the war
in that vicinity had been carried off by the Confederates. Lee was
making
himself a name as one of the greatest generals of the age, while the
Federals, although they changed the commanders of their army
continually,
were making no headway against him, and were in constant fear of an
invasion of their own territory. In the South, Bragg had just achieved a
great victory over Rosecrans, and had him now penned up in Chattanooga,
from which it was next to impossible for him to escape in either
direction, and to keep him there, and either fight him or starve him
into surrendering before sufficient re-enforcement to enable him to
assume the offensive, was the task the Confederate army had before it.
Well, matters did not
turn out as it was expected they would.
Bragg's victory at Chickamauga was a fruitless one, except so far as it
delayed the Federal advance from Chattanooga, and the army of
Rosecrans was neither starved nor beaten into subjection. On the
contrary, Rosecrans was superseded, and Grant was put in his place,
to follow up the victories he had won at Fort Donelson, Shiloh, and
Vicksburg; and the army was so greatly re-enforced that it was
enabled to press forward and menace Atlanta, and finally to capture
it. The results of that capture are well known.
Off For Richmond Again.
The capture of Atlanta,
however, was a long way off when I
started for Richmond for the purpose of making a definite offer of my
services to the Confederate authorities there, and was apparently as
little likely to occur as was that of Richmond. Bad as the condition of
things, in many particulars, was, I was in a more hopeful frame of
mind than I had been for a long time, and I was anxious to labor, as I
felt that I was able to labor, in behalf of the cause.
Had I then known as much
as I knew not a great while after, I
would not have put myself to the trouble of going to Richmond for
the purpose of asking for work, but would at once have executed the
project which I had frequently contemplated, and which I had more
than once been on the point of carrying into effect, and would have
gone directly north, and have put myself in communication with, the
friends, sympathizers, and agents of the Confederacy there. This was
the true field for me to operate in, although I had no idea, at this
time, what opportunities a residence at the North would give me for
aiding the cause in a most efficient manner. It was chance rather than
design that finally took me within the jurisdiction of the Federal
government, and enabled me to do more to baffle its efforts to crush
the Confederacy by my operations in the rear of its armies in one
year, than I had been able to do in three while endeavoring to fight
them face to face.
Interviews With President Davis And General Winder.
With only the most
indefinite plans for the future, and little
suspecting what exciting and perilous adventures fate yet had in
store for me, I proceeded, on my arrival in Richmond, to call
on General Winder, and took measures to procure an interview with
President Davis. From General Winder I did not obtain much
satisfaction; and Mr. Davis, while he was very kind to me, did not
give me a great deal of encouragement. I represented to President
Davis that I had been working hard for the Confederacy, both as a
soldier and a spy, and that I had braved death on more than one
desperately fought battle-field while acting as an independent, and
that now I thought I was deserving of some official recognition.
Moreover, I had lost my husband through his devotion to the cause,
and, both for his sake and for my own, I desired that the government
would give me such a position in the secret service corps or
elsewhere as would enable me to carry on with the best effect the
work that he and I had begun.
Mr. Davis was opposed to
permitting me to serve in the army as an
officer, attired in male costume, while he had no duties to which he
could properly assign me as a woman. I left his presence, not
ungratified by the kindness of his manner towards me, and the
sympathy which he expressed for my bereavement, but none the less
much disappointed at the non-success of my interview with him.
Failing to obtain any
satisfaction from Mr. Davis, I returned to
General Winder, but got comparatively little encouragement from
him. He finally, however, consented to give me a letter of
recommendation to the commanding officer of the forces in the
South and West, and transportation. This was not exactly what I
wanted, but it was better than nothing; and I thought that, armed
with such a letter, I could scarcely fail to accomplish something that
would be satisfactory to myself, and of value to the cause.
On Another Grand Tour.
Having obtained this
important document I started off, and, for the
last time, made a grand tour of the entire Southern Confederacy.
Stopping from point to point, I gathered all the information I could,
and thoroughly posted myself with regard to the
situation, — military, civil, and political, — and endeavored to
find a place where
I could commence active operations with the best chance of achieving
something of importance.
I, however, during the
course of a long journey, failed to meet with
the grand opportunity I sighed for, and met with no adventure
worthy of particular record, until finally I reached
Mobile — a city I had not visited since I marched through it in
1861 at the head of my gallant battalion of Arkansas Grays.
On arriving at Mobile, I
took up my quarters at the Battle House,
with the intention of taking a good rest, for I was weary with much
travel, and, if possible, of arranging some definite plan of action for
the future. I was resolved now to make a bold stroke of some kind,
and on my own responsibility if necessary, trusting that my usual
good luck would accompany me in any enterprise I might undertake.
In Mobile I met quite a
number of officers whom I had met on the
various battle-fields where I had figured, and received the kindest
and best attentions from them all. This was most gratifying to me;
and the flattering commendations that were bestowed upon me
served to mitigate in a great degree the disappointment I felt on
account of the non-recognition of the value of my services in other
quarters.
I may as well say here,
that in mentioning the disappointments I
have felt at different times at not being able to obtain exactly the
kind of official recognition I desired, I do not wish to appear as
complaining. That I did feel disappointed, is true; but reflection told
me that if any one was to blame it was myself. By entering the army as
an independent, I secured a freedom of action and opportunities for
participating in a great variety of adventures that I otherwise would
not have had, but I also cut myself off from opportunities of regular
promotion. When I resolved to start out as an independent, I was
animated by a variety of motives, not the least of which was, that I
believed I would be able to maintain my disguise to better advantage,
and would have better opportunities for escaping any unpleasant
consequences in case of detection than if I attached myself regularly
to a command. I was right in this, and am now convinced that, on the
whole, the course I pursued was the wisest one.
Not having been attached
to a regular command, at least for any
great length of time, it was impossible for me, however, to secure that
standing with those who were best able to reward my services that
was necessary, while the full value of my services could only be made
known by my taking a number of people into my confidence, and this
I had great objections to doing. As matters turned out, the peculiar
experiences through which I passed, during the first two years of the
war, were of the utmost value to me in a great many ways in the
prosecution of the very important work in
which I subsequently engaged; and I consequently had no cause for
regret at having followed the line of action I did. At the time of which
I am writing, however, I could not know what the future would bring
forth; and although, without being aware of it, I was about to enter
upon a series of enterprises of great moment, all my plans seemed to
have gone amiss, and I certainly was not in the most pleasant state
of mind imaginable.
In writing this
narrative, it has seemed to me that the only proper
method is to represent events as they actually occurred, and to record
the impressions they made upon me at the time of occurrence, and not
as they were colored by subsequent developments. My ideas and
feelings under particular circumstances are as much a part of my story
as the narrative of actual events, for my proceedings were guided and
influenced by them; and this would scarcely be a fair record of my
career while in the Confederate service did I not make some mention
of them.
CHAPTER XXX.
ON DUTY AS A SPY.
I receive a mysterious
Note requesting me to meet the
Writer. — I go to the
appointed Place, and find an Officer of the Secret Service Corps who
wants
me to go through the Lines with Despatches. — I accept the Commission,
and
the next Day go to Meridian for the Purpose of completing my Arrangement
and receiving my Instructions. — A Visit to General Ferguson's
Headquarters. — Final Instructions from the General, who presents me
with a Pistol. — I start
for the Federal Lines, and ride all Night and all the next Day. — A
rough and
toilsome Journey. — I spend the Night in a Negro's Cabin. — Off
again at three
o'clock in the Morning with an old Negro Man for a Guide. — We reach the
Neighborhood of the Federal Pickets, and I send my Guide back. — I bury
my
Pistol in a Church. — I am halted by a Picket-guard and am taken to
Moscow. — A Cross-examination by the Colonel in
Command. — Satisfactory Result for
myself. — On the Train for Memphis. — Insulting Remarks from the
Soldiers. — A Major interferes for my Protection. — Off for
General Washburn's Headquarters.
HORTLY
after my arrival
at Mobile, I received
a rather mysterious note in a masculine hand,
asking me to meet the writer that evening at
the corner of the square, but giving no hint
whatever of the purpose of the invitation. I
hesitated for some little time about taking any
notice of the request, thinking that if the writer had
any real business with me, he would seek me out and
communicate with me in a some less mysterious way.
On a little reflection, however, I concluded that it
would be best for me to meet the gentleman, whoever he
might be, according to the terms of his invitation, and to
find out who he was and what he wanted. I felt tolerably
well able to take care of myself, although I was
aware that the circumstances of my army career being rather
extensively known, I was especially liable to annoyances of a
peculiarly unpleasant kind from impertinent people. Anything
of this sort I was resolved to resent in such a manner that
the offender would have occasion to beware of me in the future.
The fact, however, that I
was travelling under credentials from
General Winder, and was in a manner an attaché of the Secret Service
Department, rendered it not improbable that this was an application
for me to undertake some such enterprise as I for a long time had
been ardently desirous of engaging in. The more I considered the
matter, the more I was disposed to take this view of it, and
accordingly, at the hour named, I was promptly at the rendezvous,
wondering what the result of the adventure would be.
A Mysterious Conference.
My surmise proved to be
correct. I had scarcely arrived at the
corner of the square, when my correspondent, who I discovered was
Lieutenant Shorter, of Arkansas, advanced towards me, and said,
"Good evening. I am glad to see you. How have you been?"
"I am quite well," I
replied; and waited for him to introduce
the subject concerning which he was evidently desirous of
conversing with me.
After a few
inconsequential remarks on either side, he said,
"I see that you received my note."
"Yes."
"Well you must excuse me
for asking for a secret interview
like this, but the matter I wanted to talk to you about is of great
importance, and, as in these times, we don't know whom to trust, it
was necessary that I should have an opportunity to carry on our
conversation without danger of being watched or overheard. You
have had considerable experience in running through the lines,
and in spy and secret service duty, have you not?"
"Yes," I replied; "I
have done something in that line."
"You have usually been
tolerably lucky, haven't you?"
"Yes, I have had
reasonably good luck. I got caught once
in New Orleans, but that was because the parties to whom I had
delivered my despatches were captured. Butler tried his hand at
frightening me, but he did not succeed very well, and I managed to
slip away from him before he had any positive evidence against me
which would have justified him in treating me as a spy."
"Well, you're just the
kind I want, for I have a job on hand
that will require both skill and nerve, and I would like you to
undertake it, especially as you seem to have a talent for disguising
yourself."
I concluded that I would
find out exactly what he wanted me to do,
before I gave him any satisfaction; so I said, "What kind of a job is
it?
I have risked my neck pretty often without getting very many
thanks for it, and I don't know that I care a great deal about running
all kinds of risks for little glory, and no more substantial reward."
"O, come, now," said he,
"you must not talk that way. Now is the
very time that your services will be worth something; and this bit of
business that I am anxious for you to undertake, is of such a nature,
that it would not do to give it to any but a first-rate hand."
"Well, what is it? When I
know what you want me to do,
I will be better able to say whether it would be worth my
while to do it."
"Wouldn't you like to
take a trip through the lines?" said the
lieutenant.
"That depends," said I.
"What do you want me to make the trip
for?"
"I will tell you that,
when you tell me whether you will go."
I considered a moment,
and then said, "Yes, I will go, if it is for
anything to serve the cause."
"That's the way to
talk," said he. "I am in the secret service, and I
want you to take a despatch through the lines and give it to a certain
party. It will be a big thing if you succeed, as I think you will, or I
wouldn't have picked you out for the business."
"Well," said I, "I will
make an effort, and do my best to succeed."
"O, you must succeed,"
said the lieutenant; "for there will be the
devil to pay if the Feds discover what you are up to, and you will
have to do your prettiest to prevent them from even suspecting that
you are up to any unlawful tricks."
"I'll do my best, and I
can't do any more than that; but as I have
fooled them before, so I guess I can again."
"Well," said he, "that's
all right. Now, what I want you to do is,
to meet me to-morrow evening at Meridian. I will have everything
ready for you, and will give you your instructions, and you be
prepared for a hard journey. In the mean time, keep quiet, and don't
whisper a word to anybody."
We then said good night
and parted, I going back to the
hotel to do a heap of thinking before I went to sleep. Lieutenant
Shorter, beyond saying that I was to go through the lines, and
endeavoring to impress upon me the great importance of the
enterprise, had given me no hint of where I was to go, or what the
exact nature of my errand would be, and I consequently had to
depend upon myself in making such preparations as were necessary.
Having considered the subject as well as I was able, I concluded to
procure a very plain suit of woman's clothing, and to make up a small
bundle of such few extra articles besides those upon my back, as I
thought I would require. My arrangements having been all made, I
started for Meridian the next day, and on my arrival at that place
found Lieutenant Shorter waiting for me at the depot. Under his
escort I went to the hotel kept by a Mr. Jones, and was received with
great cordiality by him and by his wife. The lady especially was most
attentive to me, and did everything in her power to make me
comfortable.
I appreciated her kind
attentions the more highly as I was far from
being well, and felt that I was scarcely doing either myself or the
others interested justice in undertaking such an enterprise, under a
strong liability that I might be taken seriously sick before concluding
it. I had a great deal of confidence, however, in my power of will, and
having promised Lieutenant Shorter that I would go, I was
determined to do so, especially as he represented the business as
being most urgent.
What I Was To Do.
Having obtained a room
where we could converse privately, the
lieutenant proceeded to explain what he wanted me to do, and to give
me directions for proceeding. He said that he had captured a spy
belonging to the Federal General Hurlbut's command, and had taken
from him a paper containing quite accurate accounts of the forces of
Chalmers, Forrest, Richardson, and Ferguson, and their movements.
This he had changed so that it would throw the enemy on the wrong
scent, and I was to take it to Memphis and deliver it to the Federal
General Washburn, telling him such a story as would induce him to
believe that I had obtained it from the spy. He also had a despatch for
Forrest, which he wanted me to carry to the Confederate secret agent
in Memphis, telling me where to find him, describing him so that I
would know him,
and giving me the password which would enable me to
communicate with him without difficulty.
"Now," said Shorter,
when he had finished all his explanations,
"you see that you will have to keep your wits about you, for if you let
the Feds get their fingers on these papers it will be all up with you.
When you reach Memphis, deliver this bogus account of the
movement of our troops to General Washburn immediately, and get
him and his people well impressed with the idea that you are on
their side; then, at the earliest possible moment, give this despatch
for Forrest to our agent. I will know by the success of the movement
that Forrest is to make whether you are successful or not."
After some further
conversation about the best plan of
proceeding, and further explanations about what I should do,
Lieutenant Shorter suggested some changes in my dress, his idea
being, that I should personate a poor countrywoman, who had lost
her husband at the outbreak of the war, and who was flying into the
Federal lines for protection. He also gave me letters to the different
Confederate commanders whom I would meet on my road, directing
them to assist me, and put in my hand the sum of one hundred and
thirty-six dollars in greenbacks which had been taken from the
captured spy. This, he thought, would see me through, but in case it
should not
prove sufficient, he said, that if I made my wants known, any
commanding officer I met would supply me with funds, and that after
I reached Memphis I would find plenty of friends of the Confederacy
upon whom I could call for assistance.
Everything being in
readiness for my journey, the next morning I
took the train for Okolona, where, procuring a pass from Captain
Mariotta, the provost marshal, I hired a conveyance, and drove to the
headquarters of General Ferguson. On showing my order for
assistance to the general, he received me with the greatest politeness,
and invited me into his quarters, where he gave me some information
and additional instructions, and reiterated Lieutenant Shorter's
cautions to be vigilant and careful, as I was on a mission of great
importance.
The general then handed
me ninety dollars, and presented me with
a pistol, which he said was one of a pair he had carried through the
war. The money he was sure I would need, and the pistol might be a
handy thing to have in case I should be compelled to defend myself,
for my journey would
take me through a rough country, and I might chance to meet
with stragglers would give me trouble. He advised me, however,
not to use the weapon except in case of absolute necessity, and
especially not to carry it with me into the Federal
lines, for if it was discovered that I had it about me, it might excite
suspicions that I was a spy, when such a thing would not otherwise
be thought of.
A fine horse having been
provided for me, I said adieu to
General Ferguson, who wished me good luck, and started off
with an escort who was to conduct me to a point somewhere to the
north-east of Holly Springs, from whence I would have to make my
way alone, getting into the Federal lines as best I could.
A Rough Journey.
In spite of the fact
that I was quite sick, and sometimes
felt that I could scarcely sit upon my horse, I rode all that night and
nearly all the next day, through lonesome woods, past desolate
clearings, — occupied, if at all, by poor negroes,
or even poorer whites, all of whom had a half-terrified look, as if they
were expecting every moment to have a rapacious soldiery come
tramping through their little patches of ground, and appropriating
whatever was eatable or worth taking, — through gullies and ravines,
and over the roughest kind of roads, or sometimes no roads at all. At
length we reached a negro's cabin, which, although it was but a poor
shelter, was better than nothing at all, and feeling too ill to proceed
any farther without rest and refreshments, I resolved to stop there all
night.
The inhabitants of the
cabin were not very much inclined to be
over communicative, and apparently did not want me for
a lodger, and their abode was not one that I would have cared to
make a prolonged sojourn in.. I was too much of a veteran
campaigner, however, to be over fastidious about my
accommodations for a single night, and was too sick not to
find any shelter welcome. From what I could learn from these people, I
was not very many miles from the Federal lines, and I secured their
good will, to a reasonable degree, by promising to pay well for my
night's lodging, and what was given me to eat, and finally succeeded in
inducing them to bestir themselves to make me as comfortable as
circumstances would permit. I also struck up a bargain with an old man
who appeared to be the head of the household, such as it
was, to act as a guide for me in the morning, and to conduct me to
the neighborhood of the Federal pickets.
I wished my escort now
to return to General Ferguson's
headquarters, but, as he suggested that the negroes might prove
treacherous, we both concluded that it would be best for him to
remain until I was fairly started in the morning on my way to the
Federal lines. A supper which, under some circumstances I would
scarcely have found eatable, was prepared for us, and I partook of it
with a certain degree of relish, despite the coarse quality of the food,
being too tired and hungry to be critical or squeamish. Then,
completely used up by my long and toilsome ride, I retired to the
miserable bed that was assigned me, and ere long was in happy
obliviousness of the cares and trials of this world.
About three o'clock in
the morning I was up and ready to start,
after having made a hasty toilet, and after a breakfast which served to
satisfy my hunger, but which certainly did not tempt my palate. My
escort now bade me good-by, and was soon out of sight, on his way
back to camp, while I, mounted on a little pony, and with the old
negro to lead the way, faced in the opposite direction.
Through woods, over
fields, along rough country roads, and often
along mere pathways that could not be called roads at all, making
short cuts wherever we saw a chance to do so, often dubious as to
exactly where we were, and dreading lest we should come suddenly
upon some picket-station, and thus lose a chance of making a proper
diplomatic approach, the negro and I pursued our way for several
hours during the damp and dismal gray morning twilight.
Approaching The Federal Lines.
Not having the most
implicit confidence in my guide, I took care to
keep him in front of me all the time, and had my hand constantly upon
the pistol which General Ferguson had given me, and which I was
resolved to use upon my colored companion in case he should be
inclined to act treacherously. Fortunately there was no occasion for
any violence, and our journey continued without interruption, except
such as was caused by the rough nature of the ground, until, at
length, I spied through the trees a little church. It was now broad
daylight, although the sun was not yet up, and the surroundings of
this building, as it was seen through the fog-laden
atmosphere, were dismal enough. I surmised, from what my guide had
told me before we started out, that the Federal pickets must be
somewhere near, and I concluded that it was time for me to get rid of
the darkey; so I said to him, "Isn't that the church where you said
you saw the Yankee soldiers?"
"Yes, miss, dat's de
place; dey's jes' beyond dat church a bit or
dey was las' week."
"Well, I want to find
them; but I guess, if you don't want them to
catch you, you'd better get back as quick as you can."
"O Lord, miss, I doesn't
want dem to catch me, sure."
"Well, then, you will
have to travel off as fast as you are able; if
you don't, they will have you, and will run you off, and give you to
the abolitionists."
I said this in a very
severe way, and it evidently made an
impression on the darkey, who probably thought the abolitionists
were cannibals, who would proceed to use him as a substitute for
beef. He opened his eyes as big as saucers, and his teeth chattered so
that he could scarcely say, " Good-by, miss," as he darted off,
clutching the ten-dollar Confederate bill that I had handed him in
payment for his services.
Watching the old negro
until he was out of sight, I rode up to the
church, and dismounting, entered the building. My first care now was
to get rid of my pistol, as I thought it would most probably be taken
from me if the Federals found that I had it; and the discovery of it,
secreted upon my person, would be not unlikely to cause me to be
suspected of being a spy, which, of course, was the very thing I was
most anxious to avoid. Raising a plank in the flooring, I put the pistol
under it, and covered it well with dirt. My intention was to return
this way, and I expected to get the weapon, and give it back to
General Ferguson. Circumstances, however, induced me to change
my plans; and as I have never visited the spot since, if the church is
still standing, the pistol is probably where I placed it, for I buried
it
tolerably deep, and smoothed the dirt well over it, so that it would not
be likely to be discovered except by accident.
As I stated before, my
disguise, as I had arranged it with
Lieutenant Shorter, was that of a poor countrywoman, and the story I
was to tell was, that I was a widow, and was flying for protection to
the Federal lines. Having disposed of the pistol, I sat down for a few
minutes to think over the situation, and to decide upon the best
method of procedure with
the first Federal soldier I met. Experience had taught me, however, that
no settled plan, in a matter of this kind, amounts to much, so far as
the
details are concerned, and that it is necessary to be governed by
circumstances. I resolved, therefore, to regulate my conduct and
conversation according to the character and behavior of those I
chanced to meet; and so, having first ascertained that my papers were
all right, I
mounted my pony again, and started in the direction where I
supposed I would find the Federal camp.
Meeting A Federal Picket.
Letting my pony take his
own gait — and he was not inclined to
make his pace any more rapid than there was necessity for — I travelled
for a couple of miles before I saw any one. At length a picket, who
had evidently been watching me for some time, stepped out of the
woods into the road, and when I came up to him, he halted me, and
asked where I was from, and where I was going.
"Good morning, sir," I
said, in an innocent, unsophisticated sort
of way. "Are you commanding this outpost?"
"No," he replied; "what
do you want?"
"Well, sir, I wish you
would tell the captain I want to see him."
"What do you want with
the captain?"
"I have got a message to
give the captain, but I can't give it to
any one else."
"He is over there in the
woods."
"Well, you just tell him
that I want to see him quick, about
something very important."
The soldier then called
to his officer, and in a few moments up
stepped a good-looking young lieutenant, whose blouse was badly
out at the elbows, and whose clothing generally bore marks of very
hard service. Although his attire was not of the most elegant
description; he was a gentleman, and, as he approached me, he
tipped his hat, and said, with a pleasant smile, "Good morning,
madam; what is it you wish?"
"Are you the captain?" I
queried.
"I am in command of this
picket guard," he replied.
"Well, captain," said I,
"I want
to go to Memphis, to see General
Washburn. I have some papers here for him."
This made him start a
little, and he began to suspect that
he had a matter of serious business on hand, and, evidently with a
different interest in me from what he had felt before, he inquired, with
a rather severe and serious air, "Where are you from, madam?"
"I am from Holly
Springs. A man there gave me these papers, and
told me that if I would get them through he would pay me a hundred
dollars."
"What kind of looking
man was he, and where did he go after he
left you?"
"I mustn't tell you
that, sir; the man said not to tell anything about
him, except to the one these papers are for, and he would understand
all about it."
"Well, madam, you will
have to go with me to headquarters. When
we get there I will see what can be done for you."
His relief came, not a
great while after, and off we started for
headquarters. As I had informed my new-made friend that I was
hungry, having ridden for a considerable distance since very early in
the morning, he stopped with me at a white house near the road, and
sending the guard on, went in with me, and asked the woman, who
appeared to be mistress of the establishment, to give me some
breakfast. Quite a comfortable meal was soon in readiness, and while
I was eating, the lieutenant busied himself in trying to ascertain
something about the number and position of the Confederate troops.
I told him that there seemed to be a large force of them near Holly
Springs, but beyond that statement, — which was, I believe, far from
being the truth, — I am afraid he did not find me a very satisfactory
witness. I am sure that such information as I did give him was not
likely to be of very great use.
Unpleasant Attentions From The Soldiers.
After I had finished my
breakfast, the lieutenant took me to
Moscow, on the Memphis and Charleston Railroad, and here, for the
first time, I was subjected to very serious annoyance, and first began
to appreciate the fact that I was engaged in a particularly risky
undertaking. The soldiers, seeing me coming into the town mounted
on a ragged little pony, and under the escort of an officer, jumped at
the conclusion that I was a spy, and commenced to gather round me
in crowds.
"Who is she?" some one
asked.
"O, she's a spy that the
Illinois picket captured."
"You're gone up!" yelled
some fellow in the crowd.
"Why don't they hang
her?" was the pleasant inquiry of
another.
These and other cheering
comments greeted me on all sides, and
some of the brutal fellows pushed against me, and struck my pony,
and otherwise made my progress through the streets exceedingly
unpleasant, notwithstanding the efforts of the lieutenant to protect
me.
Finally we reached the
building occupied by the colonel in
command, and I was ushered by that official into a private room, in
the rear of the one used as an office. The lieutenant accompanied me,
and related the manner of my coming to the picket station, and the
story which I had told him.
Under Cross-Examination.
The colonel then
proceeded to cross-question me, being
apparently desirous of finding out whether I was possessed of any
information worth his knowing, as well as whether I was exactly what
I professed to be. I flattered myself that I played my part tolerably
well. I knew very little about the movements of the Confederates, or
their number, but, under the process of rigid cross-questioning to
which I was subjected, I said just enough to stimulate curiosity,
pretending that what I was telling was what I had picked up merely
incidentally, and that, as I took no interest in the fighting that was
going on, except to desire to get as far away from it as possible, I
really knew scarcely anything, except from rumor.
As for myself, I stuck
close to one simple story. I was a
poor widow woman, whose husband had died about the time
of the breaking out of the war; I was for the Union, and had
been badly treated by the rebels, who had robbed me of
nearly everything, and I had been anxious to get away for
some time with a little money I had collected, and had finally
got tired of waiting for the Federal troops to come down my
way, and had resolved to try and get through the lines; that
a man had promised I should be paid a hundred dollars if I
would carry a despatch to General Washburn, at Memphis,
and had assisted me to get off; that I was to deliver the
papers to General Washburn only, and was to tell him alone
certain things that the man had told me; I had some friends in Ohio,
to whom I was anxious to go, and I hoped that General Washburn,
after I had given the despatch to him, would pay me the hundred
dollars, and furnish me with a pass to go North.
The colonel tried to
make me vary this story, and he several times
pretended that I had contradicted myself. He was tolerably smart at a
cross-examination, but not by any means smart enough for the
subject he had to deal with on this occasion. I had the most innocent
air in the world about me, and pretended, half the time, that I was so
stupid that I could not understand what his interrogatories meant,
and, instead of answering them, would go off into a long story about
my troubles, and the hardships I had suffered, and the bad treatment I
had received. The colonel then tried to induce me to give him the
despatch, saying that he would pay me the hundred dollars, and
would forward it to General Washburn. This I refused to do, as I had
promised not to let anybody but the general have it, if I could help it.
Neither would I tell who it was that had intrusted me with the
despatch, or give any clew to the message for the general he had
intrusted me to deliver by word of mouth.
In fine, the colonel was
practically no wiser when he had finished
than when he commenced, and so, finding that no information
worth talking about was to be obtained from me, he said, "Where
will you go, if I give you a pass?" at the same time winking at the
lieutenant.
"I want to go to
Memphis, sir, to give this paper to General
Washburn, and I hope that the general will be kind enough to send
me on to Ohio."
"Have you any money?"
"Yes, sir; I have about
one hundred and fifty dollars."
"Confederate money,
isn't it?"
"No, sir; it's
greenbacks. I wouldn't have that rebel trash; it isn't
worth anything."
"Well, madam," then said
the colonel, "you will remain here until
the train is ready to start, and I will see, in the mean time, what I
can
do for you."
The colonel then went
out; but the lieutenant remained, and
engaged in a general sort of a conversation with me for some time.
About noon, he suggested that perhaps I was hungry, and went and
procured me something to eat. The train came in at one o'clock, and I
proceeded to the depot
under the escort of the two officers; the colonel, in response to my
request that the soldiers should not annoy me as they had done in
the morning, assuring me that he regretted anything of the kind had
happened, and promising that he would see that I was protected from
insult. Whether the presence of the colonel was the sole cause of the
difference in their behavior or not, I cannot say, but the soldiers kept
their distance as we were going to the depot, and only stared at me.
When we reached the depot, the colonel procured me a ticket, and
gave me five dollars, and I overheard him say, in an undertone, to
the lieutenant, "You get in the rear car, and keep an eye on her
movements. I think that she is all right, but it would be just as well
to
watch her."
The lieutenant said, "O,
there's no doubt in my mind but she is all
right."
This little conversation
made me smile to myself, and served to
convince me that I would have no trouble in getting along nicely with
my friend the lieutenant.
The colonel moved off,
and the lieutenant and I stepped aboard
the train, a half dozen soldiers who were near making such comments
as, "She's gone up." "I guess she'll hang." "Hanging's too good for
a spy." I took no notice of them, however, but seated myself on the
opposite side of the car from where they were standing. The
lieutenant was overwhelmingly polite, and after having got me fixed
comfortably in my seat, he said, in a low tone, "I may go up with you
as far as my camp, if I can get any one to hold my horse."
I thought that this
would be a good chance to improve my
acquaintance with him, and perhaps do something for the furtherance
of my plans; so I said, "O, I would be so glad if you would. I would so
much like to have company." And I smiled on him as sweetly as I was
able, to impress him with the idea that I profoundly appreciated his
courtesy. The young fellow was evidently more than half convinced
that he had made a conquest, while I was quite sure that I had. If he
had known what my real feelings were, and with what entire
willingness I would have made a prisoner of him, could I have got him
into the Confederate lines, perhaps he would not have been quite so
eager for my society.
When the lieutenant
left, the soldiers began to crowd about the
windows of the car, for the purpose of staring at me, and using
towards me the same kind of abusive language as that which I have
already quoted. I came to the conclusion that
there must be rather lax discipline when a woman, situated as I was,
who was especially under the protection of the officers of the
command, and whom the colonel had given orders should not be
insulted in any way, could be subjected to such continued ill usage
as this. I was the more indignant, as there were several officers
standing by, who took no notice of the behavior of the men, and
made no effort whatever to prevent them from indulging in what,
under any circumstances, was a mean and cowardly pastime. At
length, provoked beyond measure, I called to an officer near, who
wore a major's uniform, and said to him, "I would thank you, sir, to do
something to stop the men from insulting me. I am travelling under a
pass from the colonel, and he promised that I should not be annoyed
in this manner."
The major very promptly
came forward, and pushing some of the
soldiers away from the windows, said, "Men, keep quiet, and do not
insult this lady. She is on our side; she is Union." And then, turning
to me, he remarked, "O, you mustn't mind them. You see, they have
got it into their heads that you are a spy. They won't trouble you any
more."
It struck me, as the
major was making this little speech, that the
soldiers were wiser than some of their officers, although I did not feel
any more amiable towards them on that account. I, however, thanked
the major for his promptness in coming to my protection, and we
passed a few words, the idea entering my head that if I could fall
into a conversation with him I might be able to beguile him into giving
me some points of information worth having. Before, however, we
had an opportunity to do more than exchange the ordinary civilities
of the day, the train began to move, and I was unable to improve my
acquaintance with him.
CHAPTER XXXI.
SENDING INFORMATION TO THE CONFEDERATES FROM MEMPHIS.
My Friend, the
Lieutenant, concludes that he will make himself better
acquainted with me. — Indiscreet Confidences. — Some of the Traits of
human
Nature. — The Kind of Secrets Women can keep. — Women better than Men
for certain Kinds of Secret Service Duty. — The Lieutenant wants to know
all
about me. — I suspect that he has matrimonial Inclinations. — He is
anxious to
discover whether I have any wealthy Relations. — I am induced to think
that I
can make him useful in obtaining Information with Regard to the Federal
Movements. — The Lieutenant expresses his Opinion about the War. — Arrival
at Memphis. — Visit to the Provost Marshal's Office. — General Washburn
too
ill to see me. — I enclose him the bogus Despatch I have for him with an
explanatory Note. — The Lieutenant escorts me to the Hardwick House, and I
request him to call in the Morning. — Procuring a Change of Dress through
One of the Servants, I slip out, and have in Interview with my
Confederate,
and give him the Despatch for General Forrest. — On returning to the
Hotel, I
meet the Lieutenant on the Street, but manage to pass him without being
observed. — Satisfactory Accomplishment of my Errand.
CONCLUDED
that my
friend, the lieutenant, had deserted
me, for which I was inclined to be sorry; for he was
apparently an agreeable enough young fellow, and I was
rather anxious than otherwise to have his company as far as
Memphis. If any doubts as to my being "all right," as the
colonel had expressed it, still lingered in his mind, I thought
that I would not only be able to remove them before our
journey's end, but that I might be able so to insinuate myself
into his confidence that I could learn something from him. I
also wished him to go to Memphis with me, for I felt that if
I put in an appearance there, under the escort of a Federal
officer who would vouch for me, my status with
the people at headquarters would be more satisfactory than if I went
alone. In performing spy duty, there is nothing like having a friend at
headquarters to introduce
you, and to certify to your intentions being such as would meet with
approbation.
As matters turned out,
the lieutenant not only did accompany me,
but he let out many things that he ought to have kept quiet about,
knowing, as he did, the manner in which I had come into the lines,
and having no assurance whatever beyond my bare word that I was
not a spy. To be sure, the information I obtained from him with regard
to the main object of my errand was not very momentous, for I was
afraid to say too much on points relating to my errand; but I, without
any difficulty, learned enough to enable me to know exactly how to
go to work to find out a great deal more. Besides this, he was really of
much assistance to me in other ways, and saved me considerable
trouble at headquarters — for all of which I hope I was duly thankful.
About Keeping Secrets.
It may be thought that
an officer of the experience of this one — he
had been through the war from the beginning — would have understood
his business sufficiently by this time to have known how to hold his
tongue concerning matters that it was desirable the enemy should not
become informed of, when in the society of a person whom he well
knew might be a spy. If all the officers and men in an army, however,
were endowed with, not wisdom only, but plain common sense, the
business of the secret service agents would be a very much more
difficult and hazardous one than it really is. The young fellow was
only a lieutenant, with no great responsibilities, while some of my
most brilliant successes in the way of obtaining information have
been with generals, and even with their superiors, as the reader will
discover, if he feels sufficient interest in my story to follow it to
the
end.
The fact is, that human
nature is greatly given to confidence; so
much so, that the most unconfiding and suspicious people are
usually the easiest to extract any desired information from, provided
you go the right way about it. This may seem to be a paradox; but it is
not: it is merely a statement of a peculiar trait of human nature.
Women have the reputation of being bad secret-keepers. Well, that
depends on circumstances. I have always succeeded in keeping mine,
when I have had any worth keeping; and I have always found it more
difficult to beguile women than men into telling me
what I have wanted to know, when they had the slightest reason to
suspect that I was not a suitable recipient of their confidence. The
truth seems to be, that while women find it often troublesome, and
well nigh impossible, to keep little and in consequential secrets, they
are first-rate hands at keeping great ones.
For certain kinds of
secret service work women are, out of all
comparison, superior to men. This, I believe, is acknowledged by all
detectives and others who have been compelled to employ secret
agents. One reason for this is, that women, when they undertake a
secret service job, are really quicker witted and more wide awake
than men; they more easily deceive other people, and are less easily
imposed upon. Of course there is a great deal of secret service work
for which women are not well fitted, and much that it is scarcely
possible for them to perform at all; but, as a rule, for an enterprise
that
requires real finesse, a woman will be likely to accomplish far
more
than a man.
I was just thinking that
my lieutenant had deserted me, or that he
was in another car for the purpose of keeping an eye on me
unobserved, when he appeared beside me, having jumped on the rear
end of the car as it was starting.
He said, "You have no
objections to my occupying the same seat
with you, have you, madam?"
"O, no, sir!" I replied;
"I shall be exceedingly glad to have the
pleasure of your society, so far as you are going."
"Well, I only intend
going up to my camp now, but I have half a
mind to run on as far as Memphis — that is, if my company will not be
disagreeable to you."
"I will be very greatly
pleased if you will go through with me. It
has been a long time since I have met any agreeable gentlemen, and I
particularly admire officers."
As I said this I gave
him a killing glance, and then dropped my eyes
as if half ashamed of having made such a bold advance to him. The
bait took, however, as I expected it would; and the lieutenant, giving
his mustache a twist, and running his hand through his hair, settled
himself down in the seat with a most self-satisfied air, evidently
supposing that the conquest of my heart was more than half
completed, and began to make himself as agreeable as he knew how.
Finesse was certainly not this youth's most marked characteristic, and
he went about making himself agreeable, and endeavoring to discover
who I was, where I came from, and all about me, in
such an awkward, lubberly manner, that it was mere play for me to
impose upon him.
Matters Matrimonial And Otherwise.
He had not been seated
more than a minute or two before he
blurted out, "I guess you're married — ain't you?"
"No, sir; I'm a widow."
"Is that so? Well, now,
about how long has the old man been
dead?"
"My husband died shortly
after the breaking out of the war. I have
been a widow nearly three years."
"Well, that's a pretty
good while to be a widow; but I reckon men
are scarce down your way. Got any children?"
"No, sir; unfortunately I
have no children."
"Well, that's lucky,
anyhow."
I did not exactly
understand whether he meant that it was lucky for
me, or for him, in case he made up his mind to marry me. I, however,
thought it a
good occasion for a little sentiment, and so, giving a sigh, said,
"Children are a great comfort,
sometimes."
"Yes, I suppose so,"
said he; "especially when they are your own. I
don't care much for other people's children, though."
"Are you married, sir?" I
suggested, in a rather timid tone, and
giving him another killing glance.
"Not much," he replied,
with considerable force; "but I wouldn't
mind being, if I could find a real nice woman who would have me."
And with this he gave me a tender look that was very touching.
"O, there ought to be
plenty of women who would gladly have a
fine, handsome officer like you."
"Do you think so, now,
really? Well, I'll have to look round. By the
way, where do you come from? Do you belong down South?"
"No, sir," I replied; "I
am a foreigner by birth, but my husband
was an American, and lived in Ohio until shortly before the war."
"Is that so, now? You're
English — ain't you?"
"No, sir; my parents
were French and Spanish."
"I guess you must speak
those languages, then?"
"Yes, sir; much better
than English."
"Well,["]said he, "I'm
mighty glad I met you."
"Thank you, sir. I may
say the same to you."
He then remarked, "I
don't believe you'll have any difficulty in
getting through to Memphis, or any trouble after you reach there. I
will be glad to assist you any way I can."
I thanked him for his
kind intentions; and he then, in a hesitating
sort of a way, said, "I hope you won't feel offended if I inquire how
your finances are."
"O, no, sir; no offence
at all. I am sorry to say that my funds are
rather low."
"Well, I'll see you
fixed all right until you can hear from your
friends. How long do you expect to remain in Memphis?"
"No longer than I can
possibly help; for I want to get back to
Europe, where I have friends who will take care of me, at the earliest
opportunity."
"I'm mighty sorry you
are going to make such a short stay. I was
hoping that we might become better acquainted. It isn't often that we
meet with real ladies in these parts."
An Anxious Inquirer.
He then proceeded to
inquire who my relatives in Europe were,
where they lived, whether they were wealthy or not, — he seemed to be
especially anxious on this point, — how old I was, whether I had ever
thought much about getting married again, and so forth. I answered
his queries as promptly as he could have wished, and perhaps more
to his satisfaction than if I had told him the exact truth in every
instance.
At length the whistle
blew, and the train stopped at his camp. He
jumped up, and rushed out, without even saying good-by; and while
I was wondering where he had left his politeness, I saw him running
as fast as he could go, and presently dodge into a tent. In a moment
or two more out he came in his shirt sleeves, and ran for the train,
with his coat in his hand, and jumped on board just as we were
starting. I turned around, and watched him as he got into the car
behind me, and saw him put on a rather better looking uniform coat
than the out-at-the-elbows blouse he had been wearing, and a paper
collar and black necktie. These last I considered as particularly
delicate attentions to myself.
When he had completed
his toilet, he came forward, and, seating
himself beside me, said, "I will allow myself the pleasure of going
through to Memphis with you."
I assured him that I was
pleased beyond measure, and came to the
conclusion that it would be my fault if long before we
reached Memphis I did not stand so well in his good graces that I
would be able to make a most useful ally of him in carrying out my
plans for the benefit of the Confederacy.
"Do you see that field
over there?" said he, pointing to a good
sized clearing. "That's where our boys had a fight with Forrest."
"Did you run fast?" I
asked, rather maliciously.
"We had to run," said
he; "they were too many for us."
"O, what a pity," said
I; "you ought to have whipped them;" and
thought, at the same time, that there would be some more hard
running done if I ever succeeded in getting to Forrest the despatch I
had for him.
"We'll whip them yet,"
said the lieutenant. "We've had some big
successes lately in Virginia, Missouri, and Arkansas, and we'd treat
them worse than we do here if we only had a few more men."
"Why," said I, "there
seems to be a great many of you."
Important Information.
"O, there's not half
enough to do anything. They've got us
scattered along this railroad in such a way that it's almost as much as
we can do to hold our own, when any kind of a crowd of rebs puts in
an appearance."
This was interesting;
but I did not think it prudent just then to
question him any closer on such a delicate subject, trusting that
before we parted he would let out, of his own accord, some other
facts worth knowing; so I merely said, "O, this war is a terrible thing.
It makes me sick to think of so many being killed and wounded."
"That's so," he replied.
"It is bad, but now we've begun it, I guess
we'll have to fight it out."
"What do you think they
will do with that miserable fellow, Davis,
if they catch him?" said I.
"Well, I'm for hanging
Jeff, and all his cabinet. We'll just string
up the leaders, and let the little people go, if they will promise to
behave themselves."
This made my blood boil;
but I controlled my feelings, and
remarked, "O, I don't believe they will hang him. They've got to catch
him first, you know; and then the government at Washington is
disposed to be lenient, isn't it?"
"Yes, that's just what's
the matter. Between the milk-and-water
policy of the government, and the speculators who have been allowed
to do pretty much as they please, it has been hard work carrying on
the war at all. We western men have done nearly all the hardest
fighting, and we've got the least credit for it. So far as I am
concerned, if I had known that it was the niggers we were going to
fight for, I never would have raised my sword."
"O, you don't believe in
slavery, do you?" said I, with the view of
increasing his confidence in me.
"No," said he; "but the
niggers are better off where they are, and
are not worth fighting for, anyhow."
I tried to draw him out
on this subject, but for some reason he did
not seem inclined to talk about it any more; and he branched off into
anecdotes of army life, the fights he had been engaged in, and a
variety of matters that were entertaining enough, but do not merit
being placed on record. This conversation amused me, and gave me a
good number of points worth knowing in the particular business in
which I was engaged, until at length the train reached Memphis, and
my escort assisting me to alight, requested me to wait on the platform
for him while he engaged a carriage.
In a few moments he
returned with a close-bodied carriage,
and when I was seated in it he ordered the driver to go to the
Hardwick House.
"O, no," said I; "I must
go to General Washburn's headquarters
first, and deliver my despatch and message."
"Just as you like," said
he; "but I thought that you might prefer
to arrange your toilet before seeing the general."
"No," I replied; "I must
see him immediately, as I was told that
this was a matter of great importance. The general won't mind my
looks."
A Queer Way Of Doing Business.
The driver was
accordingly directed to take us to headquarters,
and before many more minutes I was ushered into the presence of the
provost marshal, to whom I stated my errand. The fact of the
lieutenant being with me undoubtedly prevented a great many
questions being asked, some of which it might not have been
agreeable, or even possible, for me to answer, and I accordingly was
more than ever impressed with the value of having him for an
acquaintance, especially
as he put in a word now and then which had the effect of
establishing me on a satisfactory footing with the provost marshal.
That official, when he had heard my story, said, "Madam, I am sorry,
but the general is very much indisposed, and cannot see you. I will
be glad to receive anything you may have for him, and to give him
any message from you."
"O, sir, I must see him.
It is impossible for me to communicate what
I have to say to any one else."
"Did the person who
confided the paper to you give you any
private instructions?"
"Yes, sir, and he was
very particular in telling me to communicate
with the general in person, and with no one else."
"Well, madam, I am sorry
for you; but, as I said before, the general
is unable to see you, and you will either have to leave the paper and
your message with me, or else call again."
This struck me as being a
decidedly odd way of doing business.
Here I was professing to be a despatch-bearer, with a confidential
message from a spy within the enemy's lines, and the probabilities
all in favor of my business being of extreme importance; and yet, the
officer who assumed to represent the general placidly requesting me
to call again, just as if I was some one who had stepped in to ask a
favor of him. I concluded that if matters were managed in this kind of
style at headquarters, Memphis would not be a very difficult place
for me to operate in, or for the Confederates to operate against, if
they thought it worth their while. I knit my brows, looked vexed and
perplexed, tapped the ground with my foot, and pretended to be
thinking deeply about what course I had better pursue. After a few
moments' consideration, I concluded that the best thing I could do
was to get the bogus despatch off my hands, and thus be free to
attend to other business of more importance; so I said, "That is too
bad, for I promised to see the general himself, as the man was so
particular that I should; but if he won't see me, I suppose I will have
to write to him."
The provost marshal
accordingly furnished me with a sheet of
paper, and I sat down at his desk and scribbled off a brief note to the
general, telling him enough about the source from which I had
obtained the despatch to induce him to believe in its genuineness,
and intimated that if he wanted to know more he could send for me.
This note and the despatch I enclosed in the same envelope, and
handed it to the provost marshal, with a request that it might be
given to the general immediately.
I fully expected that
when General Washburn received these
enclosures he would have me brought before him for the
purpose of interrogation, and was much surprised when he did
nothing of the kind.
The provost marshal took
the envelope back into his private
office, and on his return he asked me where I was going to stop. I
replied that I did not know yet; whereupon he suggested that there
was a nice private boarding-house near the Catholic church. I
objected to going there, however, and said that I would prefer to
locate myself at the Hardwick House for the present. To the hotel I
accordingly went, under the escort of my friend, the lieutenant, and
registered myself as Mrs. Fowler, not at all grieved at not having
seen the general, and quite satisfied not to see him in the future if he
did not wish to see me, for I considered the material part of my errand
now practically accomplished.
The lieutenant, when he
saw me fairly established in comfortable
quarters, asked me to excuse him, saying that, as I seemed to be short
of funds, he would see if he could not obtain some for me. I thanked
him very much, made all manner of apologies for giving him so much
trouble, and as a broad hint that I did not want to see any more of
him that day, asked him to call in the morning, as I was feeling quite
sick, was tired out with my journey, and would retire to rest after
getting some supper. He was not a fool, and understood that I did
not desire his company; so, taking his leave, he said that he would
give orders for something to eat to be brought up to my room, and
would come to see me again in the morning if I would permit him.
He had not been gone a
great while before a servant appeared with
a very nice supper. This I ate with immense relish, for I was
desperately hungry, at the same time making certain inquiries of the
servant for the purpose of enabling me to judge whether it would be
safe or prudent to attempt to communicate that night with the spy for
whom I had the despatch which was to be forwarded to Forrest. It
was now nearly dark, and I decided that no better time for meeting the
spy could be found. I accordingly asked the servant to try and
borrow for me some rather more presentable articles of attire than
those I had on, as I desired to go out for the purpose of making a few
purchases, and was really ashamed to go into the streets dressed as I
was. My real reason was that I was afraid the lieutenant, or the
provost marshal, or some
one who had seen me, should happen to meet me while I was out,
and as, dressed in the rather outlandish fashion in which I had
appeared at the picket station, they would not fail to recognize me,
suspicions might be excited which would result in spoiling all my
plans.
The servant, whose zeal
in my behalf was stimulated by a five-dollar
greenback, was not long in appearing with a reasonably
decent-looking dress, bonnet, and shawl. I then attired myself with
as much speed as I could command, and after having the dust and
dirt brushed off my shoes, was ready to start.
A Conference With The Spy.
It is scarcely necessary
to say that I was well acquainted with
Memphis, and consequently knew exactly how to go and where to
go in search of my man. Fortunately for me, the place was not a very
great way from the hotel, and persuading the accommodating
servant to show me out the back door, under the plea that, meanly
attired as I was, I was ashamed to be seen by the officers who were
standing about the front of the building, I was not long in reaching
it.
I knocked at the door,
and the very man I was looking for came to
let me in. I had never seen him before, but I knew him immediately by
the description I had of him. Giving him the password I was
admitted, and he eagerly inquired what I had for him. I handed him
the despatch which he was to convey to Forrest, and gave him the
verbal instructions which Lieutenant Shorter had ordered me to
convey to him, and urged the necessity for his making haste in
reaching Forrest at the earliest practicable moment. He, however,
said that he thought that a movement of the Federal troops was in
contemplation, and that he would like to find out exactly what it was
before starting, and as I seemed to be on good terms at
headquarters, he urged that I should endeavor to obtain the
information for him. I consented to try what I could do, while he
promised not to delay his departure longer than two days, at the
farthest.
Before parting, I
represented the danger to both if we should be
seen in conference, and said that I would prefer not meeting him
again if some means of communicating with him without a personal
interview could be devised. He, therefore, suggested that if I
obtained the desired information I should write him a note and
deposit it in a certain place which he
designated. I consented to this and took my departure, wishing him
good luck. On my way back to the hotel, the prudence of my change
of dress was sufficiently demonstrated, for on turning a corner I
nearly ran against my friend the lieutenant and another officer, who
were walking slowly along the street. My heart leaped into my mouth
when I saw who it was, but as there was no retreat, I trusted to the
darkness and my change of costume, and glided by them as swiftly
and quietly as I could, and fortunately was able to gain my room
without discovery.
My errand was now
accomplished, and in as satisfactory a manner
as could be desired, and the only apprehension I had was lest the
spy to whom I had given the despatch for Forrest might not
succeed in getting off in safety. If he should be arrested and the
document found on him, the finger of suspicion would not unlikely
point to me as the original bearer of it. I thought, however, that he
was probably well able to take care of himself, and being too much of
a veteran to allow myself to be worried about possibilities that might
never come to pass, I went to bed feeling that the responsibility of
the business was well off my shoulders, and was soon in happy
obliviousness of cares of every kind.
CHAPTER XXXII.
FORREST'S GREAT RAID. — GOING NORTH ON A MISSION OF MERCY.
A Friend in Need is a
Friend indeed. — The Lieutenant aids
me in procuring a new
Wardrobe. — I succeed in finding out all I want to know about the Number
and
the Disposition of the Federal Troops on the Line of the Memphis and
Charleston Railroad. — A Movement made in Accordance with the bogus
Despatch which I had brought to General Washburn. — Forrest makes his
Raid,
and I pretend to be alarmed lest the Rebels should capture me. — The
Lieutenant continues his Attentions, and something occurs to induce me
to
change my Plans. — I have an Interview with an Officer of my Brother's
Command, and learn that he is a Prisoner. — I resolve to go to him, and
leave
for the North on a Pass furnished by General Washburn. — At Louisville I
have
an Interview with a mysterious secret Agent of the Confederacy, who
supplies
me with Funds. — On reaching Columbus, Ohio, I obtain a Permit to see my
Brother. — Through the Agency of Governor Brough my Brother is released,
and we go East together, — he to New York, I to Washington.
HE
next morning the
lieutenant made his
appearance bright and early, and said that he
had raised a hundred dollars for me, by representing
me as a Union woman who was flying
from persecution in the Confederacy, and who
had brought important information into the lines. This
money I regarded as lawful spoils of war, and therefore
had no hesitation in accepting it. Expressing my gratitude
to my friend for his zeal in my behalf, I said that
he would place me under still further obligations if he
would aid me in obtaining some better clothing than that I
had on. He expressed the greatest desire to oblige me, and
taking half of the money, he invested a good portion of it in a
stylish bonnet, a handsome piece of dress goods, and a pair of
shoes. He also presented me with a number of little articles,
which I was given to understand were meant for testimonials
of his individual regard.
During the day I was
called upon by several officers and
others, and one lady — an officer's wife — loaned me a dress to
wear until mine should be finished. Taking my piece of goods
to the dressmaker's, I stated that I was in a great hurry, and
she accordingly promised to have it finished by the next
evening. Thus I was in a short time fitted out in good style,
and was able to figure to as great an extent as I desired in
such society as Memphis afforded just at that time.
My new friends were
extremely anxious to know exactly what was
going on within the rebel lines, and asked me all sorts of questions. I
endeavored to gratify their curiosity as well as I could without
committing myself too much, and in return made an effort to find out
what I was so desirous of knowing about the contemplated
movement of the Federal troops.
I did not have a great
deal of trouble in learning very nearly
everything that was to be learned about the number and disposition
of the troops along the line of the Memphis and Charleston Railroad,
and also that the force at Colliersville was being materially
strengthened in apprehension of an attack in that quarter. This
information I promptly communicated to my confidant, who started
for Forrest's headquarters without more delay. The concentration of
the Federal force at Colliersville, I had every reason to believe, was
induced by the despatch I delivered to General Washburn. At any
rate, it had the effect of leaving a gap in the Federal line beyond
Grand Junction for Forrest to step through; and, when in a day or
two, intelligence was received that he was on a grand raid through
Western Tennessee, I knew that the plot in which I had been
engaged had succeeded in the best manner.
Forrest's Raid.
I made a great to-do
when the news of Forrest's raid was received,
and pretended to be frightened lest an attack should be made on
Memphis, and the rebels should capture me. The fact is, that Forrest,
before he got through, did come very near the city, and some of my
new acquaintances were just as much frightened in reality as I
pretended to be. He, however, did not make any demonstration in the
city, but after a brilliant campaign of several weeks slipped by the
Federals again, carrying back with him into Mississippi
sufficient cattle and other booty to amply repay him for his trouble.
I thought that I had
reason to congratulate myself upon the
success of the enterprise in which I had been engaged. Taking it
altogether, it was as well planned and as well executed a performance
as any I ever attempted during the whole of my career in the
Confederate service.
My friend, the
lieutenant, whose regard for me really increased with
each succeeding interview, was obliged to return to his camp, after
having assisted me in obtaining a new outfit. In a day or two,
however, he returned, having obtained a ten days' leave of absence,
and he began to increase the zealousness of his attentions. On his
return to Memphis he brought with him a fine horse, which he claimed
to have captured, and said that it should be reserved for my use, if I
would accept of it, so long as I remained in the city. I was not at all
averse to having a good time, although I was beginning to wonder
how I was ever to get back to my starting-place again, and I rode out
a number of times with the lieutenant, and accepted his escort on all
occasions that he offered it.
A Change Of Plans.
It was while attending
church on the Sunday following the arrival,
on leave, of this rather over-attentive young gentleman, that
something occurred which caused a very material alteration in my
plans, which induced me to abandon my design to return to Mobile,
and which resulted in my entering upon an entirely new field of
operations. I, of course, at the time, had no idea whatever how things
were going to turn out, but if all had been arranged beforehand they
could not have turned out more in accordance with my desires.
During the service I
noticed in the congregation a Confederate officer
in citizen's clothes, whom I knew by sight, and who belonged to my
brother's command. He did not know me, especially as a woman,
although he had seen me a number of times attired in the uniform of
a Confederate officer. I was most desirous of communicating with him,
for the purpose of inquiring about my brother, of whom I had received
no intelligence whatever for a number of months; so, after the service
was over, I watched him as he left the church, and seeing him
turn the corner, said to the lieutenant, "Let us take a walk
down this street." Keeping him in sight, I saw him turn down
towards the Hardwick House, and consequently suggested to
the lieutenant that it would perhaps be as well to return to
the hotel instead of indulging in a promenade. My escort
thought that I was disposed to be whimsical; but I did not
bother myself very greatly about his opinion of me one way
or the other, being now only intent upon devising some
means of obtaining an interview with the disguised Confederate.
On reaching the hotel I
found that the man I was after had
disappeared, and I was considerably perplexed to know what course
to pursue. I was afraid to send him my card, for fear of compromising
him in some way, as I thought it highly probable that he was stopping
at the hotel under an assumed name. I was bent on securing an
opportunity to converse with him, however, and hoped to be able to
meet him, and to attract his attention before evening, but failing in
this, I was resolved to find out what I could about him from some of
the servants, and to send him a note requesting a private interview,
giving him a sufficient hint as to who I was to induce him to think that
he would be in no danger. Fortunately, however, I was not compelled
to resort to any such expedient as this, for, on going in to dinner at
five o'clock with the lieutenant, I saw him at one of the tables, having
apparently just sat down.
A Strictly Private Communication.
The lieutenant was
conducting me to the seat which we usually
occupied, but I said, as if seized with a sudden freak for a change of
locality, "Suppose we go over to this table to-day. I think we will find
it pleasanter;" and, before my Federal friend had time to object, I had
walked him across the room and seated myself beside the
Confederate, indicating for the lieutenant to take the seat on the other
side of me. When the waiter came up to get our orders for dinner, I
asked him to bring me a couple of cards.
All this time I took not
the slightest notice of the Confederate, but
chatted with the lieutenant in the liveliest and most animated manner
possible; my object being to so engage his attention that he would
not think of observing what I was doing for the purpose of letting
the gentleman on the other side of me know that I was interested in
him.
On one of the cards I
wrote some nonsense, which I sent by the
waiter, after having shown it to the lieutenant, to
another officer whom I saw on the opposite side of the room. On the
other one I wrote, "Meet me at my room, at half past ten o'clock this
evening, unobserved. Important." This I made a pretence of slipping
in my pocket, but dropped it on the floor instead, touching the
Confederate officer as I did so, and half turning towards him in such a
manner that he could readily understand that I was endeavoring to
attract his attention. While this was going on, the lieutenant was
watching to see what would be the effect of the jesting remark I had
written on the first card on the gentleman across the room to whom I
had sent it. He laughed and nodded, and the lieutenant and I did the
same, — all of us, apparently, being satisfied that there was a capital
joke in progress; which indeed there was, but not exactly the kind of
one they imagined.
The Confederate officer,
when he looked down and saw the card
on the floor, quickly dropped his napkin on it, and stooped to pick it
up. He found an opportunity to read my message before he left the
table, but I took no further notice of him whatever, until just as he
was about to retire, when I turned slightly, and looking him full in the
face, gave him a meaning glance, so that he could understand that
there was no mistake about the matter.
At the hour named on the
card the Confederate officer came to my
room, evidently very much perplexed, and uncertain what the end of
the adventure would be. I hastened to apologize for the liberty I had
taken, and to place him at his ease by explaining matters.
I said, "You will pardon
me, sir; but this is Lieutenant B., of
Arkansas, is it not?"
"Yes, madam, that is my
name," he replied.
"You need be under no
apprehension, sir. I know you, although
you do not know me. I am the sister of Captain — , I am
exceedingly anxious to learn where he is and how he is, for I have not
been able to hear from him for a very long time."
News From My Brother.
The announcement that I
was the sister of Captain — ,was evidently
an immense relief to Lieutenant B., whose face brightened up
immediately. He stated that he was very much pleased to meet me,
but that he was sorry to have to
tell me that my brother had been captured by the Federals about four
months before, and was now a prisoner at Camp Chase.
This was unpleasant
news, and it determined me to give up the idea of
returning to Mobile, but to go North and visit my brother, for the
purpose
of assisting him in any way possible. From what I had learned during my
late
stay in Memphis, too, I was very well convinced that, as a secret
service
agent, I would be able to operate with far more effect at the North than
I would
if I remained in this region of country; which was an additional
inducement for me to
travel northward, rather than to essay the hazardous experiment of
regaining the Confederate lines without having some definite object
in view.
I had quite a lengthy
conversation with Lieutenant B. about my
brother, and about affairs generally; and having announced to him my
intention of visiting the North, and perhaps of acting as a secret
service agent if I saw opportunities for doing anything for the
advancement of the Confederate cause, I obtained from him quite a
number of hints about the best methods of proceeding, and he gave
me the names of persons in different places who were friends of the
Confederacy, and with whom I could communicate. He also advised
me to talk with certain parties, whom he named, in Memphis, who
could advise me, and give me much valuable information.
The next day I conferred
with some of the persons whom he had
mentioned, and having become thoroughly posted, I began to prepare
for my departure. My friend, the Federal lieutenant, whose attentions
had been getting more and more ardent every day, was, or pretended
to be, very much cut up when he heard that I intended to leave. I
promised, however to write to him so soon as I arrived in New York, —
having given him to understand that that city was my immediate
destination, — and intimated that I might possibly correspond regularly.
He, in return for the very slight encouragement which I gave to his
hopes that we might meet again when the fighting was all over,
procured for me a pass and transportation from General Washburn,
and off I started, leaving Memphis, where I was liable at any time to
be recognized, and consequently get into trouble, with but little
regret. As for the lieutenant, I certainly appreciated his attentions to
me, but I thought that any heart pangs he might feel at parting
would scarcely be so severe that he would not be able to recover
from them in course of time.
My first object was to
see my brother, to give him such assistance
as I was able, and to discover whether I could not do something
towards having him released. I had not seen him for a number of
years, and, as the reader will remember, had only learned of his being
in the Confederate army some little time before my second marriage.
He was the only relative I had in the country, and I felt very anxious
about him, fearing greatly that he might be sick, or suffering for some
of the necessities of life. I therefore pushed forward as rapidly as I
could, and made no stoppage of any moment until I reached
Louisville, Kentucky, where I took a room at the Galt House, and
communicated with a Mr. B., a gentleman whose name had been
given me as one in whom I could confide, and to whom I could
appeal in case I was in need of assistance.
A Mysterious Friend of the Confederacy.
I told Mr. B. who I was,
and what was my errand, and informing him
that I was short of funds, asked whether he could not do something
for me. He said he would make an effort in my behalf, and accordingly
a gentleman, who declined to tell me his name, but who said that he
was a Confederate, called that evening to see me at my room. He was
greatly afraid of being seen with me; and before he would leave, after
we had finished our conversation, I had to go out into the hall, and
down as far as the stairway, to see that all was quiet, and no one
looking, before he would venture out.
We had a long talk
about, not only my immediate errand in behalf
of my brother, but about the political and military situation generally.
As Mr. B. had told me that I could trust him implicitly, I had no
hesitation in informing him, that after having seen my brother, and
made an effort to procure his release, my intention was to operate as a
secret service agent, as I had had considerable experience in that line
of duty. I did not think it necessary or proper to entertain him with a
recital of the enterprises in which I had been engaged, but told him
just enough about myself to let him understand that my pretensions
were genuine, and that I really meant business. He, for his part,
posted me very thoroughly about the best method of going to work,
not only for procuring the
release of my brother, but for picking up information of value to the
Confederate authorities, and gave me the names of a number of
persons in New York and Washington, as well as in the West, with
whom it would be well for me to become acquainted as early as
possible. He also gave me hints of various enterprises, of more or
less consequence, that were on foot, and assured me that I could be
of the greatest service to the cause if I would co-operate with the
Confederate agents at the North.
Before taking his leave,
he suggested that I should retire early, and
be ready to go by the first train in the morning, and said that he would
see that I was provided with funds. The name of this gentleman I
could never discover, although I had considerable curiosity on the
subject. He was very much of an enthusiast on the subject of the
Confederacy, and was evidently an efficient secret worker for the
cause; but he was either excessively timid, or else he believed that he
could do more to advance the interest of the cause by being, as far as
practicable, unknown even to those with whom he cooperated.
Early the next morning I
was awakened by a knock on my door,
and some one outside asked if I was going on the early train. I replied
that I was, and hastened to dress myself for the journey. As I was
dressing, I was somewhat startled to see a large envelope on the
floor, which must either have been pushed under the door or thrown
in over the transom during the night. On opening the envelope I
found in it five hundred dollars in greenbacks, and letters to a couple
of persons in Columbus, Ohio. This money was very acceptable, for I
had very little cash with me, and it enabled me to resume my travels
with a mind comparately free from care.
Before leaving
Louisville, however, I managed to get rid of some of
my cash, for, as I was about starting for the train, I met a Confederate
army friend, Lieutenant H., with whom I had a hurried conversation.
He informed me that he was an escaped prisoner, and was
endeavoring to make his way South, hoping to be able to get within
the Confederate lines before being discovered. I gave him some
advice about the best method of proceeding; and as I knew that he
was short of funds, or most likely would be before he got among his
friends again, I pressed fifteen dollars upon him, for which he was
overwhelmingly grateful.
I got off on the early
train, in accordance with the understanding
with my unknown friend of the evening before, and in due
time arrived at Columbus, Ohio, and took a room at the Neil House.
Here I felt tolerably secure, as no one knew me, and I was sufficiently
far away from the seat of war to come and go as I chose without
rendering myself liable to suspicion.
I concluded, before
delivering the letters I had received in
Louisville, that I would try and see what my own unaided efforts
would do for my brother. I therefore, the next day, called upon the
general in command, — I have forgotten his name, — and introducing
myself, said, that if it was allowable, I would like very much to visit
that rebel brother of mine.
The general asked me if I
had a brother in the prison; and I told him
that such was unfortunately the case, but that, notwithstanding he
was on the wrong side, I could not help having an affection for him,
and was desirous of assisting him in case he should be in need.
The general asked me a
number of questions about myself and my
brother, in answer to which I gave him to understand that I was from
New York, was a strong Unionist, and had only recently heard that
my brother was a prisoner, although I was aware that he had entered
the rebel army shortly after the breaking out of the war. Having
satisfied himself that I was all right, the general, without hesitation,
gave me the desired permit, and, with a profusion of thanks, I bowed
myself out of his presence.
On reaching the Todd
Barracks, where the prisoners were
confined, I found a one-armed major in command. He was very polite
indeed, and entered into quite a conversation with me, during which
he told me that he had lost his arm in the Mexican war. When my
brother came, the major gave us his own private room, so that we
might talk together without fear of interruption.
Meeting With My Brother.
My meeting with my
brother was a most affectionate one. It had
been a very long time since we had seen each other, and there was
much that each of us had to say. I disclosed to him part of my plans,
and instructed him how to talk and act towards me. He was to call me
his Union sister, and was to speak of me as a New Yorker. I expressed
considerable hope that I would be able to effect his release, and
stated that
I would go on to Washington for the purpose, if necessary,
and see the president and secretary of war.
This proceeding,
however, I found to be unnecessary, for
Governor Brough, of Ohio, a hearty, pleasant-spoken, and good-natured
old gentleman, happened to be stopping at the same
hotel with me, and I contrived to obtain an introduction to
him. I cultivated the acquaintance of the governor with considerable
assiduity, and he took quite a fancy to me, so much
so, that he promised to use his influence to obtain a parole for
my brother. This promise the governor kept, and in a short
time the prisoner was released and ordered to proceed East,
and to report first to General Cadwalader, at Philadelphia,
and then to General Dix, at New York, the idea being that he
was to remain with me in the last-named city.
In company with my
brother, therefore, I proceeded East,
and went to New York, where I left him, while I went on to
Washington, for the purpose of seeing what could be done
in the way of aiding the Confederate cause by a series of
operations at the Federal capital.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
SECRET SERVICE DUTY AT THE NORTH.
New Scenes and new
Associations. — My first Visit to the
North. — The Wealth
and Prosperity of the North contrasted with the Poverty and Desolation
of
the South. — Much of the northern Prosperity fictitious. — The
anti-war Party and
its Strength. — How some of the People of the North made Money during
the War. — "Loyal" Blockade-runners and
Smugglers. — Confederate
Spies and Emissaries
in the government Offices. — The Opposition to the Draft. — The
bounty-jumping
Frauds. — My Connection with them. — Operations of the
Confederate Secret
Service Agents. — Other Ways of fighting the Enemy than by Battles in
the
Field. — I arrange a Plan of Operations, and place myself in
communication
with the Confederate Authorities at Richmond, and also with Federal
Officials
at Washington and elsewhere. — I abandon Fighting for
Strategy.
WAS
now introduced to
entirely new scenes, new
associations, and a new sphere of activity. I had never
before been farther north than Washington, and my
visit to the Federal capital was the hasty and secret one
made shortly after the battle of Ball's Bluff, the
particulars of which are recorded in a previous chapter. It was
almost like going into another world to pass from the war-worn
Confederacy to the rich and prosperous states which adhered to the
Federal government; and, when I saw the evidences of apparently
inexhaustible wealth around me, and contrasted them in my mind
with what I was leaving behind in the yet unconquered Confederacy,
I confess that my heart began to fail, and I despaired of the cause more
than I had ever
done before.
In a great portion of
the South the towns and villages were few
and far between, the forests large and dense, the population thin and
scattering, while the most imposing of the Southern cities were far
less splendid than New York and
Philadelphia, and such prosperity as they had at one time enjoyed
was now all but destroyed, through the rigidness of the Federal
blockade. Back of the Northern cities, too, was a rich, highly
cultivated,
and thickly populated country, with numerous large towns, abounding in
wealth, and with apparently as many men at home, attending to the
ordinary
duties of life, as if there was no war going on, and no huge armies in
the field.
Not only was there no
blockade to put an end to commerce,
and to cause a deprivation of many of the necessaries of life,
but commerce, as well as all manner of home industries, had
been greatly stimulated; so that the war — while it was starving
the South, and forcing the male population into the field,
until there were scarcely left enough to carry on absolutely
needful trade and tillage — actually appeared to be making the
North rich, and thousands of people were literally coining
money with government contracts, and by means of innumerable
industries brought into being by the great conflict.
The Strength Of The Federals.
The subjugation of the
South was therefore simply a question of
time, if matters continued as they were, and the Federals would
achieve the ends they had in view by sheer force of numbers and
practically inexhaustible resources, no matter how valiantly the
Confederate soldiers might fight, or how skilfully they might be led.
Was this subjugation of the South inevitable, however? This was the
question that addressed itself to my mind, and upon the
determination of which the course it would be best for me to pursue
in the future would have to depend.
I was not very long in coming to the conclusion that a triumph of
the Confederate cause was not by any means an impossibility,
provided the right means were used to bring it about. I also speedily
satisfied myself that the interests of the cause could be advanced just
as much by diligent and zealous workers at the North, as by the men
who were fighting the battles of the Confederacy in Virginia, Georgia,
Tennessee, Mississippi, and Arkansas; and I was so well convinced
that at last I had found the best field for the exercise of my own
peculiar talents, that I greatly regretted not having made my way into
the midst of the enemy's country long before.
For very nearly a year
now I had done very little that was at all
satisfactory to myself, or at all really helpful — that is, helpful in a
large
and positive way — to the Confederate cause; whereas, all this time I
might
have been carrying on a series of important operations at the North. It
looked,
indeed, like a great waste of time; but, if it was wasted, I resolved to
do my best to
redeem it, by the activity of my performances in the future; and I had
great reason to hope that these performances would be productive of
not unimportant results.
It required but a slight
acquaintance with the condition of affairs
to discover that the surface indications of wealth, prosperity, and
overpowering strength at the North were delusive. The North
certainly was wealthy and powerful; but, unfortunately for the
Federal government's efforts to conquer the South, and to put a
speedy end to the war, the people were very far from being united.
United Public Sentiment at the South.
At the South there were
few, if any, genuine adherents of the
Federal government, and public opinion was united on the subject of
achieving independence. At the period of which I am writing — the
winter of 1863-64 — there may have been, and doubtless were, many
persons who were heartily tired of the war, and who would have been
glad of peace on almost any terms. The vast majority, however, were
still in favor of fighting the thing out, in spite of poverty, and in
spite
of the privations of every kind which they were compelled to suffer.
At the North, on the
other hand, the majority of the people
had entered upon the war with reluctance; many who did go
into it with considerable enthusiasm, with the idea of preserving
the Union, were disgusted when it became day by
day more apparent that the emancipation of the slaves was a
part of the policy of the government; many who went into it
for the sake of seeing some fighting were heartily tired, and
wanted to stop; and many more, who were eager enough to
begin a fight, simply out of animosity to the Southerners,
sickened of the thing when their pockets were touched by
the enormous advance in prices, and by the heavy taxes which
the prolongation of the contest necessitated, and were quite
willing for peace at almost any price.
In addition to these
elements of discord, there was a large,
influential, powerful, and wealthy anti-war party, composed of
people who were, and always had been, opposed to the war, and who
numbered among them many who were not only opposed to the war,
but who were warm and earnest friends of the South. These latter
believed that the government had no right to coerce States which
desired to leave the Union to remain in it, and they were bitterly
antagonistic to any and all attempts to subjugate the South, and did
everything in their power to baffle the efforts of the government to
carry on the war efficiently. These people constantly aided, with their
money and their influence, the Confederate agents who were working
and scheming for the advancement of their cause at the North, and
did a great deal to embarrass the Federal government.
Besides these, there
were a great number of weak-kneed, or
indifferent people, who had no opinions of their own worth speaking
of, and whose chief anxiety was to be on the winning side. These
were for the war or against it, as the tide of battle turned in favor of
the Federals or the Confederates. The news of a tremendous defeat
inflicted on the Confederates, or of the capture of an important
position, would excite their enthusiasm, and make them talk loudly of
fighting the thing out until the rebels were whipped; while a season of
prolonged inactivity, or a succession of Confederate victories, caused
them to look gloomily on the situation, and to suggest that there had
been about enough fighting, that it was about time prices were
coming down a little, and that as the war had been going on so long,
without any practical results, there was not much use in killing more
men and spending more money, when there was no more chance this
year than there was last of a speedy end to the contest. In this class
the Confederates found many allies.
The Presidential Campaign.
At the time of my
arrival at the North the anti-war party was
concentrating its strength for the approaching presidential campaign,
and many men who were prominent in it were decidedly confident
that the next election would place a president in the White House,
whose views about the proper policy to be pursued towards the
South would be radically different from those of Mr. Lincoln. If an
anti-war president
could be elected, — and there were many reasons to believe that such
a thing would be possible, — a speedy wind-up of the war, on terms
satisfactory to the Confederates, would almost certainly follow his
inauguration.
This being the
situation, it was as much for the interest of the
Richmond government that the political dissensions existing within
the Federal lines should be kept alive, and the success of the anti-war
party promoted by every possible means, as it was to win victories on
the battle-field. Indeed, it was much more important; for victories cost
men and treasure, which the Confederacy could not well spare, and
even more was to be gained by fighting the enemy on his own
ground with the ballot, than there was by shooting him on
Confederate soil with the bullet.
It was an important part
of the duty of the Confederate agents at
the North to aid, by every possible means, the success of the anti-war
party, and to this end they labored incessantly and effectively in
various ways; but, outside of the field of politics, there was an
immense amount of highly important work being done, the like of
which my brief experiences in New Orleans had barely given me a
hint of.
Confederate Spies And Agents In Government Employ.
Many officials in the
government employ were either secret service
agents of the Confederacy, or were in the pay of such. There was not
a public building at Washington that did not contain a person or
persons who was not only willing, but eager to do much more than
furnish information to the commanders of the Confederate armies and
to the Richmond authorities, as far as it was possible to do so without
placing themselves in peril. In all of the large cities were men and
women, many of them in government employ, who were in constant
communication with the Confederate agents, and in all of them were
merchants who were rapidly growing wealthy by sending goods of all
kinds, including arms and ammunition, to the South, either by having
them smuggled through the lines, or by shipping them to some
neutral port for the purpose of having them transferred to
blockade-runners.
Some of these merchants
made no pretensions, but sold to
whoever would buy, having the avowed intention of making
all the money they could by every safe means. They simply asked
no questions, but took their cash, and shipped according to order.
Others were blockade-runners, pure and simple, and their only
anxiety was to keep their operations concealed from the government
detectives.
Millions of dollars'
worth of goods, however, were sold for the
Southern market by men who were loud in their protestations of
loyalty to the Federal government, who bitterly denounced the
South, in public and in private, who contributed largely to aid in
carrying on the war, and who enjoyed, in the fullest manner, the
confidence of the government, and of those of their fellow-citizens
who honestly believed that the war was a just one.
I will not say that all
of these men were hypocrites and traitors, for I
am confident that very many of them were not. Some, however, — and
those not the least influential and wealthy, — had different opinions
about
things in general, and the war, in particular, in public and in the
social circles
which they frequented, and in their counting-rooms, when certain people
called on them for the purpose of buying goods. They were more than
anxious
to sell to any one who would buy, but in case the buyer was known to be,
or
was suspected of being, a Confederate agent, the question of the
moment was, to sell without being found out. Of course, some of them
were detected occasionally, but there was generally a way to be found
for dealing with these gentlemen with tender consciences and highly
loyal
reputations, by which their goods could be purchased for cash, and their
reputations spared, at the same time.
The Conscription.
Another element in the
situation was, the intense opposition
to the conscription which was going on for the purpose of recruiting
the armies — the supply of volunteers having long since failed. This
opposition, before my arrival at the North, had culminated in bloody
riots in New York and several other places, which caused the greatest
alarm, because they indicated, in a very positive manner, that there
was a very large disaffected class in the population, which, if excited
to take up arms, might be able to start a new and formidable rebellion
within the Federal lines. Many of those, too, who professed to favor
the war were opposed to the conscription; that is,
they were opposed to being conscripted themselves, although they
were willing enough that other people should go and do
their fighting for them.
The most obnoxious
feature of the draft, however, had
been in a measure overcome by the different states, cities, and towns
offering liberal bounties for men to enlist. In this manner most of the
quotas were filled, but the payment of bounties — a demoralizing
proceeding, under any circumstances — opened the way for the most
shameless and gigantic frauds. The story of the bounty jumping
during the last two years of the war, is not one that any patriotic
American
citizen can read with complacency or satisfaction, and for pure infamy
I think that it surpasses anything that the future historian of the war
will be compelled to put on record.
Bounty Jumping And Other Frauds.
I had a good deal to do
with these bounty-jumping frauds,
and with a number of other matters very nearly as bad, — or, perhaps,
in the opinion of the reader, worse, — and it may
be thought that I was as culpable as those whom I now
denounce. To those who are only willing to consider such a
subject as this from one point of view, I have simply nothing to say;
but fair-minded persons, North and South, will, however, freely admit
that my actions as a secret agent of the Confederate government are
not to be put in comparison with those
of the dealers in human flesh and blood, the counterfeiters, and others
who did what they did solely from motives of gain. At any rate, acting
as I was under orders from the only government the authority of
which I acknowledged, and animated only by an ardent desire to
advance the interests of the cause which I had espoused, I felt that I
was justified in embarrassing the enemy by any means in my power,
and that the kind of warfare which I carried on in the rear of the
Federal
armies was just as legitimate as that which was carried on face to face
with them in the field.
It was not pleasant for
me to be brought into the relations I was
with some of the most consummate scoundrels who ever escaped the
gallows or the penitentiary, and it is impossible for me to reflect upon
some of the features of my career as a Confederate secret service agent
at the North with anything but regret that I should have been forced
by circumstances
to do what I did, or to associate with the men I did. There is nothing,
however, in this portion of my career that I am ashamed of; and I have
no hesitation whatever in giving to the world a plain, unadorned
statement of the enterprises in which I was engaged during the last
eighteen months of the war. So far as my own performances are
concerned, this narrative shall be as full and as complete as I can
make it; and if I fail to go into exact and minute details about certain
important transactions, it will be simply because I feel that I am under
obligations not to betray my confederates, no matter how unworthy
they may have been. To some of these people I am under no
obligations whatever, and shall consequently not hesitate to speak
plainly concerning them; but with regard to others, I prefer to err on
the honorable side by saying too little, rather than to rest under the
imputation of betraying confidences.
Arranging A Plan Of Operations.
It took me some little
time, of course, to master the entire
situation; but a very brief residence at the North enabled me
to see that there was a vast amount of most important and
valuable work to be done within the Federal lines, and that it
was exactly the kind of work that I could do with the very
best effect. I arranged my plans, therefore, for a series of
operations in behalf of the Confederate cause, and, at the
earliest practicable moment, placed myself in communication
with the Richmond authorities, and with the various secret
service agents in the Northern States and in Canada, and also
with Federal officials of various kinds, with whom I desired
to establish confidential relations, not only for the purpose of
preventing their suspecting me, but to gain through them
information otherwise unobtainable.
Having once established
myself on a satisfactory footing with
those who were managing matters at the rival capitals, it became a
comparatively easy matter to go ahead with some degree of boldness,
and to follow up a systematic scheme of action; and I flatter myself
that, having once gotten fairly started, I performed the tasks I
undertook with a praise-worthy degree of thoroughness, and with not
altogether unimportant results.
The story of this
portion of my career will differ materially from that
which has preceded it. I have now to tell, not of
battles and sieges, but of stratagems and wiles; and, as the
results of warfare are determined even more by strategy than
by actual hard fighting, I believe that the reader will find the
ensuing pages equally entertaining with those which have
preceded them, and probably more so.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
PLAYING A DOUBLE GAME.
Studying the
Situation. — I renew my Acquaintance with
old Friends of the
Federal Army. — Half-formed Plans. — I obtain an Introduction to
Colonel
Lafayette C. Baker, Chief of the United States Secret Service
Corps. — Colonel Baker and General Winder of the Confederate Secret
Service
compared. — Baker a good Detective Officer, but far inferior to Winder as
the
Head of a Secret Service Department. — I solicit Employment from Baker as
a Detective, and am indorsed by my Friend General A. — Baker gives a
rather
indefinite Answer to my Application. — I go to New York, and fall in with
Confederate Secret Service Agents, who employ me to assist them in
various
Schemes. — Learning the Ropes. — I send Intelligence of my Movements to
Richmond, and am enrolled as a Confederate Agent. — I have several
Interviews with Baker, and succeed in gaining his Confidence. — Baker's
Surprise and Disgust at various Times at his Plans leaking out. — The
Secret of
the Leakage revealed.
N
going to Washington I
had no very definite
idea of what I would do, or, indeed, what I
could do. I was now about to work under different
auspices from any under which I had
hitherto been placed, and it was necessary for
me to look around a bit and study the situation. In
a general sort of way I hoped to get access to the
different departments, so that I would be able to find out
what was going on, and to place myself in communication
with persons who would be able to give me such
information as I desired. It was also important that I
should make the acquaintance of, and be on friendly terms
with, officers of the army and others who would have the
power to help me in case I wanted to run through the lines,
or in event of my getting into any trouble through meddling with
affairs that the government might not desire an irresponsible outsider
like myself to know too much about.
The visit I had paid to
the prison where my brother was confined,
made me think deeply about the privations and sufferings endured by
the brave Southern boys captured on a
hundred battle-fields, and now in the hands of the Federal
authorities. The more I thought of them the more I was moved by an
intense desire to do something to secure their release; and more than
one crude suggestion of a plan for the accomplishment of so desirable
an end floated through my mind, without, however, my being able to
decide upon any definite method of procedure.
I hoped, on going to
Washington, to find there some one with
whom I was acquainted, and through whom I might fall
in with those who could aid me in the execution of my designs. On
my arrival in the Federal capital, therefore, I made inquiries
concerning the prominent officers of the army there, thinking that,
most probably, I would be able to meet some of
my military friends of the good old days before the war, and I was
not long in learning that General A. and Captain B. were both on
duty in or near Washington.
Unconscious Confederates.
I will remark here, that
I designate these gentlemen by the
two first letters of the alphabet, because I desire to avoid giving any
clew to their real names. They were both men of
unimpeachable honor, and, had they suspected in the least what my
designs really were, I believe that they would immediately have
procured my arrest, in spite of any private friendship they might have
had for me. I made use of them for the furtherance of my plans in the
interest of the Confederacy, but they neither of them, on any occasion,
wittingly gave me any information that they should not have given. On
the contrary, they declined to be of any assistance to me in visiting
the departments or in going to the front, on the plea
that the stringent rules in force would not permit them to do so. I
obtained points from them occasionally in conversation, for it is
impossible for any one, not even a detective or a spy, to be as
close-mouthed on all occasions as is desirable; but
the chief aid which they extended was in introducing me to people
whom I could use, and in maintaining intimate and friendly personal
relations with me, by which I was enabled to gain a standing in certain
quarters without trouble.
The general, when I
introduced myself to him, appeared to
be very glad to see me, and asked me innumerable questions
about myself, my friends, and my adventures since we last had
seen each other. I had a plausible story ready to tell him, in
which fact and fiction were mingled with some degree of skill, and
expressed myself with considerable bitterness concerning the rebels,
wishing that I could do something to aid in securing a speedy
termination of the war by their defeat. After a very pleasant
intercourse with the general, I parted from him, with a request that he
would do me the honor to call on me at the hotel, which he promised
to do.
The next day I met
Captain B. in the street, and we exchanged
greetings. He, too, promised to call upon me. This promise he kept,
and I had quite a long talk with him on general topics, preferring to
see more of him before attempting to make him useful.
I saw both the general
and the captain several times after that, and
in the course of conversation with one of them, I forget which, he
happened to say something about Colonel Baker which excited my
interest, and induced me to make particular inquiry concerning him. I
had never heard of this individual before, but I now speedily learned
that he was the chief government detective officer, and that he was
uncommonly expert in hunting down rebel spies, and in putting a stop
to their performances. I immediately concluded that Colonel Baker
was a personage whom it was eminently desirable that I should
become acquainted with at the earliest possible moment, and that it
would be much more advantageous for me to make his acquaintance
through the introduction of one of my military friends, than through
finding him on my track just when I had some enterprise for the
benefit of the Confederacy in process of consummation.
Whichever of the two it
was that I had my original conversation
with about Baker, it was the general who made me acquainted with
him, and who spoke of me in such a manner as to put me in the good
graces of this terrible man at the start.
Getting Acquainted With Detective Baker.
Colonel Lafayette C.
Baker occupied at Washington a somewhat
similar position to that held by General Winder at Richmond,
although he scarcely had the large powers and extensive authority of
the chief of the Confederate secret service department. In fact,
Colonel Baker was a detective officer more than anything else, and he
had comparatively little to do with military matters. The chief
employment of himself and his assistants was to hunt down
offenders of all kinds; and he
was much more successful in this than he was in procuring
information for the use of the war department, although he prided
himself considerably on his own performances as a spy, and upon
several not unsuccessful secret service expeditions into the
Confederacy that had been made by his directions,
and in accordance with his plans.
I confess that I came
into the presence of so formidable an
individual with some degree of trepidation; but I very soon
learned to regard him as not half so ferocious as he looked, and as
very far from being as difficult and dangerous a
personage to deal with as he was made out to be. There is nothing like
having a reputation for ferocity, and other terrible qualities, if you
want to make people afraid of you, and Colonel Baker's
reputation — how gained it would be somewhat difficult to
tell — did him good
service in exciting terror among those who were disposed to do things
which it might not be pleasant for a government detective to find out.
Colonel Baker differed
as much from General Winder in
appearance as he did in other respects. Winder was a far more highly
educated man, and he had all that peculiar polish
of manners that can only be attained by education, and by constant
association with refined and educated people. He was a rather
imposing looking man, too, and a casual acquaintance with him
was calculated to leave the impression that he was a
very pleasant and good-natured old gentleman. Under his smooth
exterior, however, was a deep scheming and far-reaching mind, and a
hard and cruel disposition, and he was a much more dangerous individual
to fall into the ill graces of than Baker. Baker was a man who, under
some
circumstances, I might have taken a genuine liking to; but the more I
saw of Winder
the less I liked him, and the more I was afraid of him.
Baker's Appearance And Character.
Baker was a tolerably
fair-looking man, after a certain fashion. He
was a returned Californian, having resided in San Francisco for a
number of years before the war, and having been a member of the
famous vigilance committee which made such short work with the
rogues of that city in 1856. He had the bronzed face and the wiry
frame of a western pioneer, and his manners were marked by a
good deal of far-western brusqueness. His hair was dark and thick,
and he wore a full and rather heavy beard; but his eyes were the most
expressive
feature of his face. These were a cold gray, and they had a peculiarly
sharp and piercing expression, especially when he was talking on
business. He also had a particularly sharp and abrupt manner of
speaking at times; and more than once, when I have had reason to
think that he might have knowledge of some of my transactions as a
Confederate secret service agent, I have felt cold creeps all over me
as he looked me straight in the eyes and spoke in that cutting tone of
voice he was in the habit of using on occasions.
Colonel Baker was, in my
opinion, a first-rate detective officer, and
nothing more; for something more is necessary in the chief of a secret
service department in time of war than to be a good hand at hunting
down offenders. Give him a definite object to go for, and a very slight
clew, and he would, in the majority of cases, accomplish a creditable
piece of work. He had, however, very little skill in starting
enterprises
for himself. General Winder, in his place, would have made
Washington a much more uncomfortable residence for Confederate spies
and agents than it was during the war; and the fact that I was able to
play double with the colonel, as I did for nearly a year and a half, and
to carry on, as I did, a number of important operations on behalf of the
Confederacy, so to speak, under his very nose, was not very
creditable to him, all the circumstances being taken into consideration.
Colonel Baker, however,
was not without his good qualities, even
if he was far from being as great a personage as he thought he was.
He was stern and severe, but he was a kinder man at heart than
General Winder, although he lacked the intellectual attainments of the
Confederate officer. With regard to the relative honesty of the two, it
is perhaps as well that I should express no opinion.
Application For A Position In The Federal Secret Service.
On being introduced to
Colonel Baker by General A., I asked him if
he could not give me a position in his detective corps in some
capacity, explaining as my reason for making such a request that,
having lost everything through the rebellion, I was in urgent need of
obtaining some remunerative employment by which I could support
myself. In the course of the conversation with him, I told pretty much
the same story that I had to the Federal officers at Memphis. I was of
Spanish extraction, and all of my friends and relatives were
either in Spain or Cuba. My husband, who was a United States army
officer, — this I put in for the sake of obtaining
the corroboration of my friend, the general, who had been acquainted
with my first husband, but who apparently was
not aware of the fact that he was in the Confederate service at the
time of his death, — had died about the outbreak of the war, and I had
been plundered, and otherwise so badly treated by the rebels, that I
had been compelled to come North, where I had resided for a
considerable period, but without being able
to do much in the way of supporting myself. I was well acquainted
throughout the South, having travelled a great deal, and having met a
great many prominent people, and I did not doubt but that I
possessed much information that would be of value to the
government, and believed that I could obtain more, as I thought that I
had talents which would enable me to do good service either as a spy
or simply as a detective.
In the course of a
somewhat lengthy conversation with
Colonel Baker, I expressed myself with considerable bitterness with
regard to the rebels, and the treatment I professed to have received
at their hands, and endeavored to impress
him with the idea that I was quite as anxious to engage in spy duty
for the purpose of being revenged on them, as for
the cash I expected to earn by the faithful performance of the
particular tasks which might be assigned me.
Baker asked me a good
many questions — not particularly skilful
ones it seemed to me — about myself, my family, how long I had been
at the North, what induced me to take up with the idea of joining the
secret service corps, what employment I had hitherto been engaged
in, and a variety of other matters. To his interrogatories I replied
promptly, and with seeming frankness, and I left his presence tolerably
confident that he believed all I had told him, and that I had made
a good impression. As for the general, he seemed to be deeply
impressed, and advocated my cause strongly, urging Baker to give
me an engagement without further delay. The colonel, however, was
cautious — he would see about it; he would talk further with me on the
subject; he did not know that he had anything he could give me to do
just at present, but he might have need of me shortly, and would let me
know when he wanted me, and all that sort of thing.
After we left, the
general promised to speak to the colonel
again, and said he thought he could induce him to give me an
engagement, but that, at any rate, he would try.
This interview with
Colonel Baker convinced me that he was the
man to begin with, if I wanted to get admission behind the scenes at
Washington, and if I wanted to execute any really masterly coup at
the North in behalf of the Confederacy. As a member of his corps, I
would not only be able to do many things that would be impossible
otherwise, but I would have ample opportunities for finding out a
good many things that were going on, with regard to which the world
at large was happily ignorant. As for Baker himself, I made up my mind
that he was an individual wise in his own esteem, but with no
comprehensive ideas, whom it would not be difficult to fool to the top
of his bent. All that it would be necessary for me to do, in case he
employed me, would be the performance of some real, or apparently
real services for him, to secure his fullest confidence, while at the
same time I could carry on my real work to the very best advantage.
Having waited about
Washington for a week or two, without
hearing anything from Colonel Baker, and the general having told me
that there was no chance for me just at present, I decided to return to
New York, as I thought, from a hint given me in a letter from my
brother, that I might be able to commence operations there. I
resolved, however, to cultivate Baker's acquaintance at the earliest
opportunity, but thought that perhaps it would be best not to trouble
him again until I had some definite scheme to propose.
Conferences With Confederate Agents.
When I reached New York,
and saw my brother, he was
expecting every day to be exchanged; and he told me that he
had been visited by several Confederate agents, who wanted
him to try and carry some documents through when he went
South. He was afraid, however, to attempt anything of this
kind, and, besides, did not think that it would be honorable
under the circumstances. Without saying anything about my
plans to him, therefore, I went and saw the agents in question,
told them who I was, referred them to people who know me in
the West, and in a general way disclosed to them my schemes
for aiding the Confederacy. I did not, however, tell them
about my interview with Colonel Baker, or that I had the
intention of becoming an employee of his. This, I thought, was a
matter I had best keep to myself for the present, for fear of accident.
These agents were
exceedingly glad to see me, and had several
jobs of work cut out which they were anxious that I should attend to.
They did not strike me as being very important, but I thought that
they would do to begin with, and that they would aid me in becoming
acquainted with the Confederate working force in the North. I,
therefore, promised to give them my aid so soon as my brother
should leave for the South.
They then evinced a
great eagerness to have me persuade my
brother to carry some despatches through; but I said that it would be
useless to ask him, and that the most I could expect of him was, that
he would take a verbal message from myself to the officials who knew
me in Richmond, to the effect that I was at the North, endeavoring to
aid the Confederate cause by every means in my power, and filled
with zeal to do whatever was to be done. It required considerable
persuasion to induce my brother to do even this much, but finally, to
my great satisfaction, he consented.
Secret Service Operations.
Shortly after this my
brother went South on a cartel of exchange,
and in due time I received information that my message had been
delivered, and that I was recognized as a Confederate secret service
agent.
In the mean while I made
a large number of acquaintances among
the adherents of both the Federal and Confederate governments, and
did a great deal of work of one kind or another. None of my
performances, however, for several months were of sufficient
importance to warrant special mention in these pages, and their chief
value to me was, that they kept me employed, and taught me what
kind of work there was to do, and how to do it. During this time I
visited Washington frequently, and always made it a point to see
Colonel Baker, to whom I furnished a number of bits of information,
the majority of which were of no particular value to him, although
several were of real importance, and aided him materially in his effort
to break up certain fraudulent practices, and to bring the rogues to
justice.
By this means I retained
his favor, and succeeded in gaining his
confidence to a degree that the reader will probably think rather
astonishing, considering my antecedents, and the kind of work that I
was engaged in sub rosa. It should be borne in mind, however, that
Baker did not know, and could not know, anything of my previous
history; that I had been highly recommended to him, and that I was
constantly proving useful to him. Wherein he failed in astuteness,
was in permitting me to carry on the peculiar operations I did, almost
under his eyes, and to make use of him, and of the machinery of his
office, for the accomplishment of my plans.
At each succeeding
interview I could see that Baker was becoming
more and more favorably impressed with me, and I did not doubt that
I would finally succeed in securing him as an unconcious ally of
myself and my co-workers.
My grand opportunity at
length did arrive, and the cunning secret
service chief fell into the trap laid for him as innocently and
unsuspectingly as if he had never heard of such a thing as a spy in
his life. The colonel, as I have before remarked, was not a bad sort of
a fellow in his way; and as I had a sincere regard for him, I am sorry
he
is not alive now, that he might be able to read this narrative, and so
learn how completely he was taken in, and by a woman, too. He was a
smart man, but not smart enough for all occasions.
One Of Baker's Grievances.
I have heard Colonel
Baker frequently complain bitterly of the
manner in which so many of his neatly laid plans were revealed to the
very persons whom he was most anxious should know nothing about
them, almost as soon as they were arranged; and I have endeavored
to console him, and to suggest reasons for the phenomena, but was
never able to quite make him understand the mystery. The reader of
this narrative will know, as Colonel Baker never was able to, why
some of his arrangements for capturing certain people who were
making themselves troublesome to the government which he
represented came to nothing; and it is to be hoped that other
detectives, who are wise in their own conceit, will be edified by the
revelations herein made.
In the chapters
immediately following, I will relate the particulars
of a series of operations, which, in many respects,
were the most important of my career. The grand scheme which I
labored to promote was a failure, but the work which I was assigned
to do, in connection with it, was thoroughly well done, and, had the
others performed their part as well as I performed mine, the ending of
the war would probably have been very different from what it was. It
would, however, scarcely have been possible for me to have worked
with the signal efficiency I did, had I not secured the aid of Colonel
Baker; and, that the chief detective officer of the Federal government
should have been induced, unconsciously and unsuspectingly, to
assist a rebel enterprise of the dangerous character of this one, was
one of the most curious of the many curious things that happened
during the war.
Before embarking in this
enterprise, I succeeded in making the
acquaintance of a number of influential people in Washington and
elsewhere, and was engaged in operations of no little importance, the
recital of which will, I think, prove both entertaining and edifying to
the public, as it will show what consummate scoundrels were filling
high places under the Federal government during the war, and how
the people who believed the war to be a just one, and were making
every sacrifice to carry it on, were betrayed by some of these most
trusted servants.
As these operations,
however, were connected with others of a
much later date, I will, in order not to break the thread of my story,
deter narrating them at present, merely stating here that the detection
of the gigantic frauds that were being perpetrated was one of the
most creditable events of Colonel Baker's career. I say this,
notwithstanding that I was working against him at the time, and was
implicated in the transactions alluded to. My position with regard to
these matters was very different from that of the men with whom I
co-operated. I did certain things, and would do them again under
similar circumstances, because I think that in time of war it is right
and proper to take every advantage of the enemy; but I had so little
regard for my chief associates, that, although I took good care to keep
out of Baker's sight, and had no desire to have him capture me, I
could not help wishing, when I heard that he had his clutches on
them, that he would succeed in having them punished according to
their deserts.
It was most
discreditable in certain of the principal officers of the
government, and in certain members of Congress, that
these people were permitted to have such opportunities for
wholesale swindling, and that after they were detected, they were not
only not brought to punishment, but some of them were even
continued in office. Colonel Baker was indignant, and justly so, that
his efforts were brought to nought through the interference of
politicians, who were more afraid of having discredit brought on the
party they represented, by the exposures which he made of
corruption and scoundrelism in high places, than they were solicitous
for honesty and efficiency in the administration of some of the most
important affairs of the government. Baker was not only interfered
with, and his plans balked, but his opponents even went so far as to
persecute him, by bringing a charge of conspiracy, and by compelling
him to defend himself in the courts.
I have known Colonel
Baker to do some things that were scarcely
defensible, but, with regard to this matter, I have the best means of
knowing that he was entirely in the right, and that, had he been
permitted to do as he wished, he would have effectually stopped
rascalities of the worst kind, and have performed services that would
have entitled him to the lasting gratitude of his countrymen. It was
utterly disgraceful that he should have been subjected to
persecutions for doing his simple duty, especially as his
investigations were commenced, and for a considerable time carried
on, at the instance of the very men who turned upon him so soon as
his labors threatened to create a public scandal that might be
disadvantageous to the political prospects of some of them. They
were willing enough to hunt down, and to punish rascality, so long as
they and their friends were not injured in any way, but so soon as
Baker began to prove himself in earnest, and determined to bring the
rascals to justice, no matter who might be hurt, the very men who had
secured his services turned upon him, took sides with the rogues,
and did their best to destroy him.
CHAPTER XXXV.
VISIT TO RICHMOND AND
CANADA.
An Attack on the Rear of
the Enemy in Contemplation. — The Difficulties in
the Way of its Execution. — What it was expected to accomplish. — The
Federals
to be placed between two Fires. — I have an Interview with Colonel Baker,
and propose a Trip to Richmond. — He assents, and furnishes me with
Passes
and Means to make the Journey. — I run through the Lines, and reach
Richmond
in Safety. — I return by a roundabout Route, laden with Despatches,
Letters,
Commercial Orders, Money Drafts, and other valuable Documents. — I am
delayed in Baltimore, and fall short of Money. — The Difficulties I had
in
getting my Purse filled. — Sickness. — I visit Lewes, Delaware, and
deliver
Instructions to a Blockade Runner. — On reaching New York I learn that a
Detective is after me. — I start for Canada, and meeting the Detective in
the
Cars, strike up an Acquaintance with him. He shows me a Photograph
supposed to be of myself, and tells me what his Plans are. — The
Detective
baffled, and my safe Arrival in Canada. — Hearty Welcome by the
Confederates there. — I transact my Business and prepare to return.
MAGNIFICENT
scheme was
on foot during
the summer and fall of 1864, for making an
attack upon the enemy in the rear, which, if it had
been carried out with skill and determination
might have given a very different ending to the
war. As it was, the very inefficient
attempt that was made created an excitement that almost
amounted to a panic, and seemed to show how effective a
really well-directed blow, such as was intended, would have
been. Such schemes as this, however, are always extremely
difficult of execution, and this one was
particularly so, on account of the necessity which existed for the
most profound secrecy in all the movements,
up to the very moment when the blow was to be struck. A large
extent of country was to be operated upon, several distinct
movements, of equal importance, were to be carried on at the same
time, the failure of any one of which would imperil everything, and a
neutral soil was to be the base of operations.
That a considerable
number of persons should be informed of the
essential points of the proposed campaign could not be avoided,
and, of course, each person admitted to the secret diminished the
chances of it being kept; for, even were traitors less plenty than
they usually are, the fact that we were arranging our plans and
making our preparations in the midst of enemies, or of half-hearted
friends, rendered it scarcely within the range of possibility that some
unlucky word or indiscreet expression would not give some one a
hint of what was going on, and enable preparations to meet the
attack to be made.
Besides all this, two
great difficulties in the way of success existed.
There was no thoroughness of organization, — it was impossible,
under the circumstances, that there should have been, — and there was
no recognized leader whose authority was admitted by all, and who
had the direction of all the movements.
The "Copperheads."
The blow, therefore, was
to be, to a very great extent, a random
one, struck in the dark, and with no assurances whatever that the
results expected from it would follow. We were utterly unable to tell
how much we could count on in the way of active assistance from the
Southern sympathizers, or "Copperheads," as they were called. For
my own part, I did not rely greatly upon anything they could or
would do, and am now very well satisfied that it was a piece of
supreme folly to have expected anything from them.
These people were really
traitors both to the South and the North,
and in the long run they did the cause of the Confederacy far more
harm than they did it good. They professed to believe that the South
was right, and yet they were not willing to take up arms for her, or,
with very few exceptions, to do anything practical for her that would
render themselves liable to get into the least trouble with the Federal
government. They annoyed the government by their captious
criticisms of all its actions, by opposing the prosecution of the war in
every way that they could with safety to themselves, and by loud
expressions of Southern sympathy. All they accomplished, however,
was a prolongation of the war, and the disfranchisement of nearly
the entire white population of the South after the war was ended; for
to them, more than to the Southerners themselves, was due the
imposition of the hard terms which were the price of peace. To the
"Copperheads," therefore, as a class, the South owe little or nothing;
and, according to my view, they were the kind of friends that people
in difficulties had best be without.
The Projected Attack By Way Of The Lakes.
The great scheme to
which I have alluded was no less than an
attack upon the country bordering upon the great lakes; the release
of the Confederate prisoners confined at Johnson's Island in Lake
Erie, near Sandusky, Ohio, and at other localities; their organization
into an army, which was to engage in the work of devastating the
country, burning the cities and towns, seizing upon forts, arsenals,
depots, and manufactories of munitions of war, for the purpose of
holding them, if practicable, or of destroying them; and, in fine, of
creating such a diversion in their rear as would necessitate the
withdrawal of a large force from the front.
A Diversion In The Rear Of The Enemy.
It was expected, in
event of the success of the plan, that the
Federal forces would be placed between two fires, and that the
commanders of the Confederate armies in the South and in the North
would be able between them to crush the enemy, and dictate terms of
peace, or at least give a new phase to the war, by transferring it from
the impoverished and desolated South to the rich, prosperous, and
fertile North. As I have before stated, much reliance was felt by many
on obtaining something more than mere sympathy from the
"Copperheads." I, for one, however, had no great expectations that
any considerable number of recruits would be gained on Northern
soil, and founded my hopes more on the personal efforts of true and
tried Southern men, than upon assistance of any kind from those who
were not closely identified with Southern interests.
While the plans for the
proposed grand attack in the rear was
maturing, I was asked to attempt a trip to Richmond, and consented
without hesitation. I was to consult with, and receive final
instructions from the Richmond authorities, with regard to the
proposed raid on the lake shores, and was also to
attend to a variety of commercial and other matters, and especially to
obtain letters and despatches for Canada.
Now was my time to make
use of Colonel Baker; and I accordingly
resolved to see what I could do with him, without more delay.
Having received my papers and instructions, therefore, I went to
Washington, and called on the colonel, who received me as politely
as he had been in the habit of doing of late, and asked what he could
do for me; for he saw, by my manner, that I had some definite project
on hand, and began to believe that I really meant serious business.
In order to understand
the situation from Colonel Baker's point of
view, it may be necessary to state, that more than once rumors that
attempts to liberate the Confederate prisoners were to be made, had
been in circulation, and that Baker, as I knew, was exceedingly anxious
to effect the arrest of some of the more active of the Confederate
agents engaged in this and similar schemes.
A Confidential Talk With Baker.
I told him, therefore,
that I had obtained information to the effect
that a noted Confederate spy had been captured, and was now in one
of the prisons, from whence he could doubtless find means to
communicate with Confederates outside. My proposition was that I
should go to Richmond, where, by passing myself off as a
Confederate among people with whom I was acquainted, I would not
only, in all probability, succeed in finding out exactly who this man
was, and where he was, but what he and his confederates were trying
to do. I suggested, also, that I could most likely pick up other
information of sufficient value to pay for whatever the trip would cost
the government.
When I had explained
what I proposed to do, Baker said,
"I am afraid if you attempt to run through the lines the rebs will
capture you; if they do, they will use you rough."
I replied, "I am not
afraid to take the risk if you will only give me
the means of making the trip, and attend to getting me through the
Federal lines."
"It will be a
troublesome thing to get you through our lines," said
Baker, "for it don't do to let everybody know what is going on when
a bit of business like this is on hand; and, after you pass our lines
you will have to get through
those of the rebels, and that you will find no easy job, I can tell you,
for they are getting more and more suspicious and particular every
day."
"O, as for that," said
I, "I can, if it is necessary to do so, go to
Havana, where my relatives are living, and try and run through from
there. I believe, however, that I can get through from here if I make
the right kind of an effort; at any rate, I would like to make the
attempt, if only to show you what I am capable of."
The colonel laughed at
my enthusiasm, and said, "Well, you are a
plucky little woman; and as you seem to be so anxious to spy out
what the rebs are doing, I have half a notion to give you a chance.
You must not blame me, however, if you get caught, and they take a
notion to hang you; for, you know, that is a way they have of
dealing with people who engage in this sort of business, and your
sex won't save you."
"O," said I, "I don't
think that my neck was ever made to be
fitted in a noose, and I am willing to risk it."
The result of the
conference was, that Colonel Baker finally
consented to let me try my luck, and he gave me a variety of
instructions about how to proceed, and about the particular kind of
information I was to endeavor to obtain. I saw very plainly that he
did not entirely trust me, or, rather, that he was afraid to trust me
too
much; but I attributed his lack of confidence in me to the fact that I
was as yet untried, and consequently might be led by my enthusiasm
into underrating the difficulties of the task I was undertaking, rather
than to any doubt in his mind with regard to my fidelity. I resolved,
therefore, to give him such proofs of my abilities, as well as of my
fidelity, as would insure me his entire confidence in the future.
Baker Concludes To Send Me To Richmond.
It having been
determined that I should make the trip, Baker told
me to get ready for my journey immediately, and, in the mean time, he
could procure me the necessary passes to enable me to get through
the Federal lines, and money to meet my expenses.
When we next met, he
gave me five thousand dollars in bogus
Confederate bills, and one hundred and fifty dollars in greenbacks,
which he said ought to be enough to see me through all right. I
suggested that if the Confederates
caught me passing bogus currency, they would be apt to deal harder
with me than they would simply as a spy. Baker laughed at this, and
said that that was one of the risks I must run, but that he did not
think
there was any danger, as these bogus notes passed more readily in the
Confederacy than the genuine ones did, which he could only account for
on the supposition that the Confederacy was a bogus government. He
seemed to think that this was rather a good joke, although I was not
able to see exactly where the laugh came in, and am afraid that I must
have struggled hard with the faint smile that I attempted.
Everything being ready,
off I started, and had but little difficulty in
getting through the Federal lines on the passes furnished me by
Baker. To get through those of the Confederate forces was a more
troublesome operation; but, as when I came to the outposts, I was
able to declare my real errand, I was not seriously impeded, and once
in Richmond I was, of course, perfectly at home.
In Richmond.
On my arrival in that
city, I immediately communicated with the
authorities, delivered the messages and despatches submitted to me,
sent letters to merchants in Wilmington and Savannah, as I had been
directed to do, and gave all the information I could about the
condition of things at the North, the proposed raid, and other
matters.
While waiting to hear
from the men in Wilmington and Savannah,
and for the preparation of such instructions as I was to carry back
from the Richmond people, I found myself falling short in funds, and
accordingly tried to see what could be done with Baker's bogus
Confederate
notes. I had no difficulty in passing them, and consequently
invested the entire batch in greenbacks, but, as the United States
promises to pay were worth more, even in Richmond, than those of
the Confederacy, I did not make an even exchange, by a great deal.
Indeed, the greenbacks which I pocketed by this operation amounted
to a very moderate sum, all of which I knew would be required for my
return journey.
Within a few days I
heard, by special messenger, from the parties
in Wilmington and Savannah. This man delivered to me a package
which was to be taken through to Canada, and also orders and sailing
directions for certain blockade-runners,
and drafts which were to be cashed, and the money disposed of in
certain ways for the benefit of the Confederate cause. I also received
directions from parties in Richmond to confer with the Confederate
agents, and, if agreeable on all sides, to visit the prisons; it being
thought that, as a woman, I would be able to obtain admission, and
be permitted to speak to the prisoners, where a man would be denied.
Then, freighted with my
small, but precious package, several
important despatches, and other papers, and a number of letters for
Confederates in Canada, I started to return. I would have been a rich
prize for the Federals, if they should capture me; and, while on my
way back, I wondered what Colonel Baker would think and say, in
case some of his emissaries should chance to lay hands upon me,
and conduct me into his presence, laden with all this contraband of
war.
Return North By Way Of West Virginia.
In consideration of the
value of the baggage I was carrying, it was
thought to be too great a risk for me to attempt to reach the North by
any of the more direct routes, and I was consequently compelled to
make a long detour by way of Parkersburg, in West Virginia. This
involved a long and very tiresome journey, but it was undoubtedly
the best course for me to pursue.
The wisdom in choosing
this route was demonstrated by the
result, and I succeeded in reaching Parkersburg without being
suspected in the least by any one. At that place I found General
Kelley in command, and from him procured transportation to
Baltimore, on the strength of my being an attaché of Colonel Baker's
corps, which was a very satisfactory stroke of business for me, as it
saved both trouble and expense.
The instructions under
which I was moving required me to go to
Baltimore, and from there inform the different parties interested of my
arrival, and wait to hear from them as to whether they were ready to
meet me at the appointed places, before proceeding farther. I was also
to wait there for some drafts for large sums, which were to be cashed
in New York, and the money taken to Canada. This involved
considerable delay, which was particularly unpleasant just then, as I
was getting very short of funds, and was, moreover, quite sick,
the excitement I had gone through with, — for this was a
more exciting life even than soldiering, — and the fatigues of a very
long and tedious journey, having quite used me up.
Short Of Funds.
On arriving in
Baltimore, fearing that I would not have enough
money to see me through until I could obtain a remittance, I went to
a store kept by a lady to whom I was told to appeal in event of being
detained on account of lack of funds, and explaining who I was, and
the business I was on, asked her if she would not assist me. She
looked very hard at me, asked me a great many questions, and
requested me to show her my papers. I said that this was impossible,
as not only my honor and life were at stake, but that interests of
great moment were involved in the preservation of the secrets I had
in possession.
This, I thought, ought
to have satisfied her; but it apparently did
not, for she evidently regarded me with extreme suspicion. Her
indisposition to trust me might have been caused by my rather
dilapidated appearance, although my soiled travelling dress ought to
have been proof of the fact that I had just been making a long, and
very rough journey. Finally, another lady coming in, she walked back
in the store with her, and I, supposing that she did not intend to take
any more notice of me, arose to go out. She, however, seeing this
movement, called for me to wait a moment. Shortly after she returned,
and, handing me a sum of money, said, "I am a Union woman; but as
you seem to be in distress, I will have to aid you. This is as much as I
can afford to give."
I, of course, understood
that this speech was intended for any
other ears than mine that might be listening, and, merely giving her a
meaning glance, walked out of the store, without saying anything
further.
Having obtained this
money, I went back to Barnum's Hotel, where
I was stopping, feeling considerably relieved, so far as the exigencies
of the moment were concerned, but not knowing to what poverty I
might yet be reduced before I received my expected remittances. At
first I was very much vexed at the behavior of the lady in the store, as
I thought that the statement I made her, and the names of persons I
mentioned as having referred me to her, ought to have gained me her
confidence at once. On reflection, however, I came to the conclusion
that she might not be so much to
blame after all, as she was obliged to be careful, on the one hand, not
to be imposed upon, and, on the other, not to be caught having
secret dealings with the Confederates.
Illness.
That night I was so sick
that I had to send for a doctor. I offered
him my watch for his services, stating that I was out of funds, and
was detained in Baltimore through the non-arrival of money which I
was expecting. He, however, refused to take it, and said that I might
pay him if I ever was able, but that it would not matter a great deal
one way or the other. The next day I was considerably better, and
was able to go about a little, and I continued to improve with rest and
quiet.
While stopping at
Barnum's Hotel, I became acquainted with a
young captain in the Federal army, and, as I made a practice of doing
with all Federal officers, — I did not know when they might be useful
to me, — I courted his friendship, and told him a story about myself
similar to that I had told on several other occasions with which the
reader is familiar, and was especially bitter in my denunciations of the
rebels. The captain was so affected by my pitiful narrative, that he
introduced me to General E. B. Tyler, who was very affable and
courteous, and who, learning that I was anxious to travel northward,
and was short of money, kindly procured for me a pass to New York.
Finally, I received
notice that one of the blockade-runners, with
whom I was to communicate, was at Lewes, Delaware, and, on
proceeding to that place, found an English brig, the captain of which
was anxiously waiting to receive instructions as to what port he was
to sail for. The cargo was principally powder, clothing, and drugs,
and the captain was exceedingly glad to see me, as he wanted to get
away as fast as he could, there being a liability that the Federal
authorities might pounce upon him at any moment. I accordingly
gave him his sailing papers, which contained directions for him to
proceed to Wadling's Island, on the north of Cuba, where he was to
transfer his cargo to another vessel, which was to run for any port
it could make in the Confederacy. The captain handed me the cards of
several houses in Liverpool and Havre, which were extensively
engaged in blockade-running, and I bade him adieu, wishing
him a safe and pleasant trip.
This errand having been
satisfactorily despatched, I went to
Philadelphia, where I took a room at the Continental Hotel, and
telegraphed for my papers, money package, &c., to be forwarded to
me from New York by express. The next morning I received, in reply to
this, my expected drafts, and also the following characteristic
letter: —
"Quebec, Canada.
"Mrs. Sue Battle: You
will find enclosed a card of your
government agent here, B——. Any orders you have for your
government, if forwarded, we will execute and despatch quickly,
according to your instructions. Messrs. B.& T. have several
clippers, which they will put in the trade, if desired. I will drink
your
ladyship's good health in a bottle of good old Scotch ale. Let us hear
from you at your earliest convenience. I will await your answer to
return to Europe.
With great respect, and with hopes of success,
"I am, madam, yours truly,
R. W. L."
Back In New York.
I now proceeded, without
further delay, to New York, where I was
met, at the Desbrosses Street ferry, by my associate in that city, who
conducted me to Taylor's Hotel, where he had engaged a room for me.
He said that he had been getting somewhat anxious for my safety, the
more especially as he was informed that the detectives had received
some information of my doings, and were on the watch for me. This
made me a trifle uneasy, as I did not know but my friend, Colonel
Baker, had discovered some facts about me which had served to
convince him that I was not likely to be as valuable a member of his
corps as he had supposed I would when he started me on my
Richmond trip. Since my return to the North I had been endeavoring
to keep myself concealed from Baker and all his people, as I did not
wish to renew my acquaintance with the colonel until I had visited
Canada. That accomplished, I proposed to see him again, and to make
use of his good offices for the purpose of putting into execution a
still
more daring scheme.
My New York accomplice
said that he did not think I was in any
immediate danger, although I would have to take care of myself. He
himself had seen one of the detectives who were on my track, and,
while I was evidently the person he
was after, the description he had of me was a very imperfect one; so
that, by the exercise of a little skill, I ought to be able to evade
him.
To put him on the wrong track, my accomplice had told this detective
that he thought he knew the person he was searching for, and had
procured a photograph of a very different looking woman, and given
it to him.
Having cashed my drafts,
and gotten everything ready, I started
for Canada, carrying, in addition to valuable letters, orders, and
packages, the large sum of eighty-two thousand dollars in my
satchel. Mr. L., the correspondent whose letter has been quoted, was
requested, by a telegraphic despatch, to meet me on my arrival in
Canada.
Under ordinary
circumstances, the great value of the baggage I
was carrying would not have disturbed my peace of mind; but I knew
that, in addition to the money I had with me, my capture would
involve the officers of the Federal government obtaining possession
of papers of the utmost importance, from which they would scarcely
fail to gain quite sufficient information concerning the proposed raid
to put them on their guard, and enable them to adopt measures for
preventing the execution of the great scheme. It was not comfortable,
therefore, for me to feel that the detectives were after me, and to be
under the apprehension that one of them might tap me on the
shoulder at any moment, and say, in that bland tone detectives use
on such occasions, "Come, my good woman, you are wanted."
A Detective After Me.
I was absolutely
startled when, on approaching the depot, my
companion, pointing to a man in the crowd, said, "There, that is the
fellow to whom I gave the photograph. He is looking for you; so
beware of him." Then, thinking it best that we should not be seen
together by Mr. Detective, he wished me good luck, and said good-by,
leaving me to procure my ticket, and to carry my heavy satchel to
the cars myself.
I watched the detective
as well as I could without looking at him
so hard as to attract his attention, and saw that he was rather
anxiously surveying the people as they passed into the depot. I was
really curious to know how he managed to get on my track; for,
although he might not be sufficiently posted
about me for purposes of identification, it was evident that he was
working on some tolerably accurate information with regard to my
movements. I also wondered whether Colonel Baker had any
suspicion of me; but made up my mind that he scarcely could have,
or else this officer would have been better posted.
After getting into the
cars I lost sight of the detective until the
arrival of the train in Rochester, and was congratulating myself that,
not seeing the original of the photograph, he had remained in New
York. At Rochester, however, to my infinite horror, he entered the car
where I was, and took a seat near me.
When the conductor came
through, after the train had started, the
detective said something to him in a low tone, and showed him a
photograph. The conductor shook his head on looking at it, and made
a remark that I could not hear. I did, however, hear the detective say,
"I'll catch her yet," to which I mentally replied, "Perhaps."
This whispered
conference reassured me a little, as it showed that
the officer was keeping his eye open for the original of the
photograph which he had in his pocket, while the woman whom he
was really after was sitting within but a few feet of him. I concluded
that I would try and strike up an acquaintance with this gentleman, in
order to find out what he had to say for himself, and because I
thought that perhaps I could say or do something to make him even
more bewildered than he was already.
I, therefore, picked up
my shawl and satchel and removed to the
seat immediately back of him. The window was up, and I made a
pretence of not being able to put it down, so that after a bit the
detective's attention was attracted, and he very gallantly came to my
assistance. When he had closed the window, I thanked him, with a
rather effusive politeness, and he, probably feeling a trifle lonesome,
and also, perhaps, a trifle discouraged, seated himself beside me, and
opened a conversation.
He was a short,
thick-set man, with a dull, heavy expression of
countenance, deep-set eyes, thick eyebrows, and a coarse and rather
scrubby mustache. He did not have the appearance of being a very
brilliant genius, but then, as I well knew, it did not do to place too
much reliance upon mere outward appearances, especially with
members of the detective force.
After passing the
compliments of the day we launched into a general
conversation, I attempting to speak with a touch of the Irish
brogue, thinking that it would induce him to believe me to be a
foreigner. I would have addressed him with a Spanish accent, but was
fearful that it would help to betray me, Baker as well as others having
been told that I was of Spanish extraction, while I did not know as yet
how much real information the secret-service chief might have with
regard to me, or whether this fellow was one of his officers or not. I
was playing a rather desperate game, but I felt tolerably sure of being
able to
deal with the gentleman. I confess, however, to having felt considerable
anxiety, although I strove to conceal it from my companion.
"You are going to
Canada, are you not?" inquired my new-made
friend.
"Yes, sir."
"Do you live there?"
"O, no, sir. I live in
England. I am only going to Canada to visit
some friends."
"Have you been in
America long?"
"Only about eight
months."
"How do you like this
country? Don't you think it is a finer
country than England?"
"O, I like living in
England much better than I do here, and expect
to go back so soon as I get through with my Canada visit. There is
too much fighting going on here to suit me."
"O, you need not mind
that; besides, the war will soon be over
now."
"Do you think so?" I
queried. I am afraid just with the least touch
of sarcasm, and for fear he might have noticed something unpleasant
in my tone, added, "I will be glad when the fighting is over. It is
terrible to hear every day of so many men being killed."
"O, that is nothing; we
get used to it."
"Yes," I mentally said,
"it may be nothing to such a shirk
as you, for you will take precious good care to keep your carcass out
of danger."
The detective now took
out of his pocket the photograph which
my associate in New York had given him, and which I was anxious to
see, and handing it to me, said, "Did you ever see anybody resembling
this?
I am after the lady, and would like very much to find her."
"She is very handsome," I
replied. "Is she your
wife?" — looking him straight in the eyes as I said this.
"Wife! no," said he,
apparently disgusted at the suggestion that
he was in pursuit of a faithless spouse. "She is a rebel spy, and I am
trying to catch her."
"Why, what has she been
doing? She looks like a very nice lady,
and I hardly could think she would do anything wrong."
"Well, she has been
doing a good deal that our government
would like to pay her off for. She is one of the smartest of the whole
gang." This I thought was rather complimentary than otherwise. "I am
on her track now, however, sure," — "Yes, the back
track," I thought — "and I am bound to catch
her."
"Well, if she has been
doing anything against the law, I suppose
she ought to be punished; but I hope you won't treat her unkindly if
you do succeed in catching her."
"She will have to look
out for that. It don't do to show any mercy
to these she devils; they give us more trouble than all the men
together."
"But perhaps this lady
is not a spy, after all. She looks too pretty
and nice for anything of that kind. How do you know about her?"
"O, some of our force
have been on the track of her for a long time.
She has been working for these Copperheads and rebel agents here
at the North, and has been running through the lines with
despatches and goods. She came through from Richmond only a
short time ago, and she is now on her way to Canada, with a lot of
despatches and a big sum of money, which I would like to capture."
"Doubtless you would," I
thought; and then said aloud,
"I wonder how you can find out so much, when there must be a
great many people coming and going all the time. Supposing that this
lady is a spy, as you say, how do you know that she has not already
reached Canada?"
"Maybe she has," he
replied, "but I don't think so. I have got her
down pretty fine, and feel tolerably certain of taking her before she
gets over the line."
This was a highly
edifying and entertaining conversation to me,
and I would willingly have prolonged it indefinitely, for the purpose
of trying to get some points from my companion which might prove
useful. As he, however, seemed inclined to change the subject, I was
afraid to seem too inquisitive, and we consequently
dropped into a general conversation, of no interest to the
reader.
The detective seemed
determined to be as polite to me as he could;
and on leaving the cars he carried my satchel, containing eighty-two
thousand dollars belonging to the Confederate government, and a
variety of other matters which he would have taken possession of
with the utmost pleasure, could he have known what they were.
When we passed on board the boat I took the satchel from him, and
thanking him for his attention, proceeded to get out of his sight as
expeditiously as I could.
When the custom-house
officer examined my luggage, I gave him a
wink, and whispered the password I had been instructed to use, and
he merely turned up the shawl which was on my arm, and went
through the form of looking into my satchel.
The Detective Baffled.
On reaching the Canada
shore I was met by Mr. L., who gave me a
very hearty greeting; but I cautioned him to say as little as possible
just then, as we might be watched. Glancing back, I saw my friend the
detective, anxiously surveying the passing crowd; and calling Mr. L.'s
attention to him, I said, "Do you see that heavy man with the black
eyebrows and scrubby mustache, who looks as though he had lost
something?"
"Yes. What of him?"
"He has been travelling
on the train with me all day, and has been
exceedingly polite and attentive. He is a detective, and I am the
individual he is after, but he isn't half smart enough to catch me."
I then, as we moved off,
related my adventure with the detective to
my Canadian friend. He thought it a capital good joke, and said that I
seemed to be tolerably well able to take care of myself.
On my arrival in Canada I
was welcomed with great cordiality by
the Confederates there, who were eager to know all about my trip,
how things were looking at Richmond, whether I had letters for so
and so, and anything else that I was able to tell them. I distributed my
letters and despatches according to instructions; mailed packages for
the commanders of the cruisers Shenandoah and Florida, which I had
received with especial injunctions to be particularly careful of, as
they
were very important; and then proceeded to the transaction of such
other business, commercial as well as political, as I had on hand.
As this was my first
visit to Canada, there was much for me
to do, and much to learn. I therefore became acquainted with
as many people as I could, and found out all I could about the
methods of transacting commercial and financial business,
who the proper parties to deal with were, and everything
else worth knowing that I could think of.
Planning For The Great Raid.
There were a good many
matters of more importance than trade and
finance, however, which demanded my immediate consideration, and
many and long were the conferences held with regard to the proposed
grand movement on the enemy's rear. There were a number of points
about this grand scheme that I would have liked to have been
informed of; but those who were making the arrangements for the raid
were so fearful of their plans in some way getting to the ears of the
Federal authorities, that they were unwilling to tell me, and other
special agents, more than was absolutely necessary for the fulfilment
of the duties intrusted to us. This excessive caution was, perhaps,
demanded by the peculiarities of the situation; but it is certain, in my
opinion, that could there have been a more definite understanding
between the various co-workers, the chances of success would have
been very largely increased. I, for one, could have performed my part
with far more efficiency — although I did all that it was arranged that I
should do — had I been trusted more largely with the details of the
proposed movement.
As it was, I was merely
furnished with a general idea of the
contemplated attack, and was assigned to special duties in
connection with it. These duties were to visit Johnson's Island, in
Lake Erie, and, if possible, other military prisons, for the purpose of
informing the Confederates confined in them of what was being done
towards effecting their release, and what was expected of them when
they were released. I was then to telegraph to certain agents that the
prisoners were warned, and such other information as I might deem it
important for them to be possessed of, in accordance with in arranged
system of signals. This being done, I was to proceed to the execution
of other tasks, the exact details of
which, however, were made dependent upon circumstances, and
upon directions I might receive from the agents in the
States, under whose orders I was to act.
This plan for a grand
raid by way of the lakes excited my
enthusiasm greatly, and I had very strong hopes of its success.
I knew how desperate the situation at the South was
getting to be, and felt that a diversion of this kind, which
would excite terror in the hearts of the people of the North,
and which would probably cause a considerable force to be
withdrawn from the front, would help the Confederate cause at this
particular juncture more, even, than a series of brilliant victories on
the well-trodden battle-grounds of the South. A large number of the
people of the North were, I knew, getting heartily sick of the war, and
I thought that it would only need a brilliant movement for transferring
some of the fighting and some of the desolation to Northern ground,
to cause the anti-war policy to demand that peace should be had at any
price. Whether the proposed raid would have accomplished
all that was expected of it, can, of course, never be determined. It is
probable, however, that I, as well as others interested, underrated the
difficulties of executing such a complicated scheme. Be that as it may,
something could have been done, more than was done, had everybody
been as enthusiastic and as determined as myself, and had there been no
traitors with us. The scheme failed, when it should have been, at least,
partly
successful; but it need not have failed so utterly as it did, had it
been managed
with wisdom, backed up by true daring.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
ARRANGEMENTS FOR A WESTERN TRIP.
I return to Washington
for the Purpose of reporting to
Colonel Baker. — Apprehensions with Regard to the Kind of Reception I
am likely to have
from him. — The Colonel amiable, and apparently unsuspicious. — I give him
an
Account of my Richmond Trip, and receive his Congratulations. — General
A.
calls on me, and he, Baker, and I go to the Theatre. — A Supper at the
Grand
Hotel. — Baker calls on me the next Morning, and proposes that I shall
visit
the Military Prisons at Johnson's Island and elsewhere, for the Purpose
of
discovering whether the Confederate Prisoners have any Intentions of
escaping. — I accept the Commission, and start for the West. — Reflections
on
the Military and Political Situations.
N
my return from
Canada, I went first to New York, where I
delivered such matters as had been committed to my care for
my associates there, and after a conference with them,
hurried on to Washington, for the purpose of seeing
Colonel Baker.
It was not without many
apprehensions that I concluded to face
the colonel again, for I did not know how much information he might
have about me by this time, and it really seemed like walking into the
lion's den. That his officers were aware of some of my movements, as
they were following me up rather too closely for comfort, was certain;
but whether they had yet succeeded in identifying the rebel spy and
secret-service agent with the woman whom Baker had employed to
go on a confidential mission to Richmond, was not so clear. Taking
all things into consideration, I concluded that Baker and his men
must be rather in a mist about me; for the detective, whom I had met
on the cars, was evidently working somewhat in the dark, which
could hardly have been the case had his chief suspected me of
playing a double game with him.
If Baker, however, had
the least suspicion with regard to
me, the fact of my very prolonged absence would, I knew, be liable to
increase it, although under ordinary circumstances there would have
been no difficulty in explaining this to his satisfaction; for he well
knew that the errand he had sent me on was a difficult as well as a
perilous one, and that it was not to be accomplished quite as easily
as a trip between Washington and New York.
Making all allowances
for the probabilities in my own favor,
however, I confess that I experienced some trepidation at the idea of
facing the colonel, and I wondered not a little what he would do with
me in case he did happen to know who I really was. It was of such
great importance, however, that I should gain immediate admittance
to the military prisons, and I knew that such admittance could be
gained by going there as one of Baker's corps, whereas it might
otherwise be impossible, that I determined to take all the risks, so far
as my own safety was concerned, and to try and have the colonel my
ally in making the preparations for what, if properly carried out,
would be one of the most brilliant episodes of the war, so far as the
Confederates were concerned, and that would not
unlikely have the effect of bringing the contest to a speedy
termination.
The idea of being able
to use the chief of the Federal detectives for
the advancement of the Confederate cause was one that gave me
enormous satisfaction, and I more than once fancied what a capital
good joke it would be for me, after I succeeded in getting beyond
Colonel Baker's reach, to inform him how badly he had been taken in,
and to ask him what he thought of me and of my performances from a
professional point of view.
Reporting To Baker.
While on my way to
Washington for the purpose of meeting him,
and of making a report of my Richmond trip, my prospective
interview was anything but a joking matter. The thing had to be
done, though; so, stifling my fears, I, on my arrival in Washington,
walked boldly into the colonel's presence, and announced myself as
having just got back from Richmond.
Baker received me with
proper cordiality, and congratulated me on
my safe return. There was nothing whatever in his manner to indicate
that he had the slightest suspicion of
me. This was reassuring; still I could not be quite certain but that,
having once got me into his power, he intended to find out what I
had to say for myself before beginning a less agreeable
conversation.
I, however, did not
propose to commence saying disagreeable
things if he did not; and so, presuming that he imagined me to have
just returned from the Confederate capital, I proceeded to make such
a report of my doings as I thought would suit him.
I told him that I had
obtained the name of the spy whom he was
anxious to discover, and such a description of him as would enable
me to identify him without any difficulty, if I could get to see him.
The information I had obtained with regard to him induced me to
believe that he was at Johnson's Island, but of this I could not be
certain.
I then went on to say
that it was understood in Richmond that
arrangements were being made for a grand stampede of the rebel
prisoners, and that this spy, in some way, found means to
communicate with the Copperheads and the rebel secret-service
agents. This was the story which it had been arranged between my
confederate and myself I should tell Baker, for several reasons. There
was the least bit of truth in it, and, in endeavoring to throw a
detective like Baker off the scent, a little truth mingled with the
fiction would be likely to accomplish the object better than a story
which was all fiction. As there had been rumors more than once of
attempted stampedes of the prisoners, it was concluded that Baker
would not be likely to regard this one as of any very great
importance, especially if he had no inkling of the grand raid which
was to take place in connection with the release of the prisoners,
while at the same time he would be anxious to find out whether a
stampede was really to be attempted, and if I managed right, would
most likely employ me to make the investigations for him.
This explanation is
worth making, for its own sake, as it will give
the reader an idea of my method of working, and at the same time
will serve to show that I was not revealing to the colonel any
secrets which it was my duty to keep from him.
Baker Falls Into The Trap.
Baker fell into the trap
just as innocently as if he had been a
young man from the country, instead of the chief detective
officer of a great government which was engaged in a gigantic
contest. On my suggesting my willingness to follow the thing up by
visiting the prisons for the purpose of finding the spy, and if
possible discovering the facts with regard to any conspiracy that
might be on foot, he did not give me any definite answer at once, but
said he would think about it; but I saw plainly that he considered the
idea as rather a good one, and did not doubt that he would speedily
make up his mind to send me.
When we had finished
talking over this matter, I proceeded to give
him a detailed account of what I saw and heard in Richmond. I said
that the rebels were very strict and very suspicious, and would not
allow any one to go to the front, or to visit the prisons or the public
buildings. I was, however, able to pick up quite a number of facts that
might be useful, and then went on to tell him a well-connected story,
partly true and partly false, about the way things looked, and the way
people talked; what the forces in the field, and their locations were;
how the blockade-runners managed to get in and out of port; what I
had seen and heard on the road as I was going to and fro, and so on.
None of the real facts that I gave the colonel were of any importance,
although I magnified them as much as I could, but they served to
give an air of plausibility to my narrative, and to convince him that I
was quite an expert spy, considering that I was a mere beginner.
Baker asked me numerous
questions, which I answered to the best
of my ability, so far as was consistent with the good of the
Confederate cause; and when we had concluded our conversation he
praised me very warmly, said that I was a plucky little woman, that he
had thought I had vim enough to go through if any one could, that I
had done a good service to the country, and a variety of other nice
things, which had the effect of making me feel quite pleasant and
quite at my ease with him again; being reasonably certain, although
not absolutely sure as yet, that he was harboring no malevolent
intentions towards me. Baker also remarked, that not hearing
anything of me for such a long time, he had been getting somewhat
uneasy about me; to which I replied, by telling him how and why I
had been detained; and the explanation appeared to be entirely
satisfactory, for he said no more on that point.
I was curious to know
exactly how well he was informed
with regard to my real movements, and had half a dozen questions
on the end of my tongue which I wanted to ask him. I concluded,
however, that this would be going rather too far, and would do no
good, while it might have the effect of exciting suspicions where
none at present existed. I did, however, venture to inquire whether
he had told any one that I was attached to the corps.
"No, no," he replied,
"certainly not, and I don't want you to tell
any one either. If I employ you for anything, it will be for strictly
confidential business, which must be between ourselves. I would
rather that even my own people should not know anything about
you as a secret-service agent."
Having finished our
business talk, I asked for my friends General
A. and Captain B., and was informed that the captain was in the field,
but that the general was in the city, and would doubtless be glad to
see me.
On reaching the Kirkwood
House, where I had taken a room, I
sent my card to the general at Willard's Hotel, and he came
immediately to see me. While we were chatting, in came Baker, who, I
judged by his manner, had something which he wanted to say to me,
and surmised that it was a consent that I should visit the prisoners.
"Ah, general," said he,
"I see that you are bound to continue
your attentions to our little friend here. She hasn't been in
Washington many hours, and you have found her out already. I
guess, however, that she likes me better than she does you, for she
came to see me as soon as she arrived."
The general looked a
trifle surprised at this, and said,
"Why, Baker, you must be getting to be a lady's man! I didn't know
that you were particularly inclined that way."
Baker laughed at this,
and said, "She is a first-rate little woman,
and I wish there were more like her. She has just made a very
successful trip to Richmond, and has brought me some important
items."
"Is that so?" said the
general. "Why, I did not know that she
belonged to your corps."
"Neither does she in a
regular way; but as she knew a good deal
about Richmond, and was acquainted with a number of people there,
I thought I would let her make a trip, especially as she was extremely
anxious to try her luck."
The general
congratulated me on my success, and then proposed
that we should all three go that evening to Ford's Theatre. Baker
assented, and I was quite willing, as I
thought an evening's entertainment in witnessing a good play would
brighten me up a little. Besides, I was anxious to cultivate the
acquaintance of these two men, and was especially
solicitous to have all possible opportunities of conversing with the
colonel, with a view of inducing him to accede to my proposition
for a visit to the military prisons. Baker and the general then said
good-by, for the present. and went away together.
About seven o'clock in
the evening the general returned alone,
and as he was escorting me to the carriage I asked where Baker was.
The general replied that he had been compelled to go unexpectedly
to the executive mansion, on some business, but would probably
join us in the theatre.
An Evening At The Theatre.
This aroused all my
apprehensions of danger again, and I became
fearfully uneasy lest all the colonel's fine words should merely have
been intended to draw me out and conceal some sinister designs
towards me. I stifled my fears, however, as well as I could, and after
we got to the theatre tried to converse with the general in an
agreeable and natural manner. I was startled by the least sound,
however, and was unable to avoid turning round to look every time
any one came in, almost expecting every moment that Baker, or one
of his officers, would appear for the purpose of arresting me.
My fears proved to be
groundless. Baker did come in soon after
the play commenced, and taking a seat beside me, made an apology
for not joining the party sooner, but begging to be excused, as he
had been compelled to go up to the White House, for the purpose of
having a talk with the president and the secretary of war. There was
nothing in his manner then or afterwards to indicate that he was
suspicious of me, and both he and the general, while the play was in
progress, were apparently greatly absorbed in what was occurring
on the stage.
As for myself, I found
it impossible to get interested. I was uneasy
for my own safety, knowing that I was playing a desperate game,
and was even more anxious lest the grand scheme which I was
endeavoring to promote should fail through any fault or misdirection
of mine. My thoughts, too, wandered to our brave men in the field,
and to the sufferings of the poor prisoners. I almost reproached
myself for even
making an appearance of indulging in an evening's recreation
in company with two Federal officers, while so many thousand
Confederates were enduring so much, but consoled myself
with the reflection that I was not doing this for mere
pleasure, but was engaged in the performance of an important task,
which might be greatly promoted through my acquaintance
with these men. Finally, to my great relief and satisfaction,
the play came to an end, and the curtain dropped for the last
time.
As we passed out, the
general proposed that we should go
to the Grand Hotel and have some supper. I did not care to
do this, but thought it best to accept the invitation.
At Supper.
We had a really superb
repast — one of the finest I had ever sat
down to; and as I was hungry, I ate quite heartily. In the way of
drinkables, I confined myself to lemonade, but the gentlemen took
wine. The general, who was quite fond of his toddy, drank rather more
than was good for him, and soon became very talkative and a trifle
noisy. He was one of those men, however, who never forget to be
gentlemen, and he neither said nor did anything offensive. Finally,
he began spinning some long yarn, during which Baker took an
opportunity to whisper to me that he would probably want to see me
in the morning. I nodded assent, although my fears began to rise a
little, but I hoped that instead of demanding a different account of my
doings from that which I had already given him, the colonel would
give me my commission for a trip to the West.
After we had finished
our supper, we returned to the Kirkwood,
where I bade them good night, at about a quarter before twelve, at
the drawing-room door; and as soon as they were gone, hastened to
my own room to obtain the rest of which I stood in so much need, for
I was tired out with the fatigues of travel and the excitement and
anxieties of the day.
The next morning, just
as I was sitting down to breakfast, the
waiter brought me a note from Colonel Baker, in which he stated that
he would call to see me at the hotel about half past ten o'clock, and
requested me to await him at that hour. Still being uncertain whether
Baker's intentions towards me were amicable or not, it was not without
some trepidation
that I looked forward to this interview. I did not know him then as
well as I did subsequently, or I would scarcely have been so much
afraid of him. It did not take me a very great while to discover that
he was not a prodigy of astuteness, but at this time, as the reader is
aware, I had had comparatively little to do with him. I knew that if he
was not sharp he ought to have been, holding the position that he
did, and I also knew that I had good cause to dread falling into his
hands, or even being suspected by him. Not only were some of the
members of his corps eagerly looking for me, but I was about
engaging in a particularly hazardous enterprise which it would have
made Baker's fortune to have gotten an inkling of, and I did not
know — even presuming that Baker himself was unaware of the fact that
I was a Confederate spy — how soon he or some of his men might
succeed in identifying me with the troublesome woman they were
searching for, or how soon they might discover something about the
plot which I was aiding to carry out. The situation, therefore, was a
delicate one for me, for much more than my own safety was
dependent upon the chief of the United States secret service
continuing in the belief that I was exactly what I represented myself
to be, and retaining his confidence in me.
Thus far, to be sure, I
had been able to detect nothing in Colonel
Baker's manner to indicate that his suspicions were excited in the
least, although I had watched him narrowly. But, as I knew that, as a
detective, it was a part of his business to mask his thoughts and
feelings, and not to give even a shadow of a hint that he had been
preparing a trap until the moment he was ready to spring it and secure
his victim, I felt that I could not place too much reliance on his
friendly looks and behavior. On the other hand, I had much
confidence in my own power of reading character and detecting
motives, and, in watching Colonel Baker, during my late interviews
with him, I was not working in the dark, as I might have been doing
under some circumstances. I knew that there was good reason to
believe not only that he might suspect me, but that he might be
possessed of accurate information about me, and I accordingly
studied his behavior towards me from this standpoint. The result was
a reasonable conviction with regard to my present safety, and yet
nothing like a feeling of absolute certainty. As for the future, I, of
course, could know nothing as to what that would bring forth, but
was prepared to venture everything.
At the appointed time,
Colonel Baker made his appearance, and
said "Good morning" with a pleasant smile, in which there was
apparently not a shade of malice or unfriendliness. After asking me
how I had liked the play, and making a few other unimportant
remarks, he said, "Well, my little woman, I have made up my mind to
let you try your skill as a detective once more, if you are in the same
mind you were yesterday."
"Yes," I replied, "I am
just as anxious now as I was then, and I
think I can not only find that spy for you, but that I can discover
whether there really is any intention among the rebel prisoners to
make a break."
"That is just what I
want you to do. I think that a woman can
manage a job of this kind better than a man anyhow, and I believe
that you are just the woman to manage it in first-rate style."
"Thank you, colonel; I
can at least try."
About That Spy.
"Yes, that's it; try and
find out all you can. I want you to pick out
this man for me if he is at Johnson's Island, as you seem to think he
is, and if you succeed in finding him, telegraph to me immediately. If
he is not at Johnson's Island, you had better try and find out if any
of the prisoners know anything about him; it is possible, you know,
that he may be in some other prison, or, indeed, that he may have
escaped. At all events, make every effort to find him."
"You know, colonel, I am
acquainted with a good many
people down South, and I may come across somebody I know,
or somebody that knows somebody I know, and by representing
myself as a disguised Confederate, I may be able to get
the prisoners to talk plainer than they would to a stranger or
a new visitor."
"Well, I will leave it
to you to manage the thing the best way you
can think of. It would not be a bad idea, however, if you were to pass
yourself off as a Confederate secret-service agent, and if you were to
intimate that something was likely to be done soon to procure the
release of the prisoners, you might be able to induce them to say
whether they have any plans of their own, or whether they are in
communication with any one outside."
"That is about my idea
of working; but the only difficulty
will be in getting a chance to talk to any of the men privately."
"O, I'll arrange that
for you by giving you a confidential letter,
which, however, you must be careful not to let any one see except
the commanding officer. If those fellows are up to any tricks, I want
to know all about it at once. There has been a good deal of talk at
different times about the prisoners attempting to stampede, but it has
been pretty much all newspaper sensation, with nothing in it."
"But, you know, colonel,
something of the kind might be
attempted; and if a stampede or an insurrection should take place, it
would create a good deal of excitement just now."
"Yes, yes; that's so. If
there is anything on foot I want to discover
it, and I want you to find out all you possibly can, and let me know
immediately."
"Well, you can rely upon
me, and I think you will find me as
shrewd as most of your detectives are."
"If you will only keep
your eyes and ears well open, and open
your mouth only when you have business to talk about, I will most
likely find you a good deal shrewder."
"Why, colonel, you don't
appear to have the best opinion in the
world of some of your detectives."
"O, yes, they do pretty
well; some of them are really first-rate men;
but they are not as smart as they ought to be for the kind of service
they are in."
"I suppose some of those
rebel spies give you a good of trouble
in keeping the run of them."
"O, you haven't any idea
of it. Half the people of Washington and
its immediate vicinity are rebel sympathizers, and would be spies if
they dared, and knew how. And then they are at work all through the
North and in Canada. Some of my people are after a spy now who
has been travelling between Richmond and Canada, but they don't
seem to be able to lay their hands on her. If they don't catch her
soon, I have half a mind to let you try what you can do, if you
succeed well with your present trip."
The conversation at this
point, I concluded, was getting to be
rather too personal, and I thought it best to change the subject,
although I could not help smiling at the idea of Baker employing me
to catch myself. That, I thought, would be entirely too arduous a
task for me to undertake in my then rather feeble state of health,
although there might be both amusement and profit in it. Forbearing,
however, to enter
upon this interesting theme, I asked the colonel when he desired me
to start. He said by the first train, if I could get ready; and handing
me my confidential letter and two hundred dollars, he asked whether
there was an thing more he could do for me.
I said that I could
think of nothing, but would proceed to get
ready for my journey immediately. He then shook hands and left,
after wishing me a pleasant trip, and expressing a hope that he would
soon receive a good report from me.
When the colonel was
gone, I went up to my room to pack my
travelling satchel; and feeling perfectly satisfied from my late
conversation with him that I was safe for the present so far as he was
concerned, I laughed heartily at the absurdity of the situation, and
wondered with myself whether I would have dared to attempt
anything of this kind at Richmond with old General Winder. I had no
difficulty in concluding that if fate had compelled me to play tricks
with Winder, as I was doing with Baker, I would have been forced to
proceed in a less open and free and easy style about it, and
congratulated. myself most heartily that I had so easy a customer to
deal with under existing circumstances.
Calling a carriage, I
was soon at the Baltimore depot, and on
board the train. Having to stop at the Relay House for the western
bound train, I made an effort to see the Confederate agent who was
stationed there, as I had a number of things I wanted to say to him.
He was an old Southern acquaintance of mine, and there were a
variety of little matters that I could have whispered in his ear that
would have been useful, and, at the same time, that I would not have
cared to confide to every agent with whom I happened to come in
contact. There is a good deal in knowing who one's friends really are
in transacting such delicate business as that I was then engaged in.
Unfortunately, my friend was away; and as I was in too much of a
hurry to wait for his return, I was forced to forego the pleasure of
seeing him.
Westward Ho!
Once on board the
Western train, I had a long journey before me,
and had plenty of time to think over affairs generally. I planned and
schemed until my brain fairly whirled, and I was glad to chat a little
with some of my neighbors, or to gaze through the car windows at
the gorgeous scenery that
met my eyes at every turn in the road, and to try and think for a while
only of its beauties, as a rest from the wild thoughts that filled my
mind.
Try as I might, however,
I could not avoid thinking of the situation,
the prospects of the Confederacy, and the chances of success for the
grand scheme, the execution of which I was endeavoring to assist.
What if we failed? or, if we succeeded in our first effort, would we be
able to accomplish all we intended and expected? These were
questions I could not answer. What I dreaded most was, the possible
effect of a raid by way of the lakes on the Confederate sympathizers
and the anti-war party. Would it stimulate them to make greater
exertions than ever to bring the conflict to a close, or would this,
bringing the war to the doors of themselves and their neighbors, turn
them against us? I confess that I had fears of the latter result, for I
had a not ill-founded distrust of these people, who are neither one
thing nor the other; and I believed that had the Copperheads wielded
their influence, as they might have done, they could either have
prevented the war in the beginning, or could have forced a
conclusion long ago.
What power the opponents
of the war were able to exert would,
however, be determined very shortly. A presidential election was
coming off in a few weeks, and the greatest excitement with regard to
the political battle that was being waged prevailed. Nearly everybody
admitted that the defeat of Mr. Lincoln for a second term would mean
that a majority of the people of the North were ready and anxious to
abandon the contest, and to let the seceding Southern states go in
peace. The fact that the Democratic candidate was a Federal general,
who had been commander-in-chief of the armies, and who professed
to be willing and anxious to carry on the war, did not please me very
well, for it indicated to my mind, very plainly, that the anti-war
people
were afraid to oppose Mr. Lincoln and the war party on a square issue.
I, however, was nothing
of a politician, and did not profess to
understand the ways of politicians, they being a class of men for
whom I had no special admiration. But I could not help thinking that
the Confederate government and the people of the South were basing
too many hopes on what the Democrats would be able to do at this
election. I knew that they in many ways were doing what they could
to secure a Democratic victory; but, for my part, I relied far more on
bullets than on ballots to give the South the victory, and I expected
more
from the great raid, for which I was now working, than I did from the
election of General McClellan.
Neither the raid nor the
election turned out as it was hoped they
would, but just about that time barren hopes were pretty much all
that Confederate patriotism and enthusiasm were fed on, and they
were rapidly getting starved for lack of more solid meat. The failure of
the contemplated raid in the rear, and the re-election of Mr. Lincoln,
put an end to all expectations of such a division of sentiment at the
North as would be of any benefit to the Confederacy, and there was
nothing to be done but to fight the thing out to the bitter end.
The period which
preceded the overthrow of the Confederacy
was, however, one of brilliant campaigning and desperate fighting,
and was the time when the Confederate agents and spies at the North
labored with the greatest assiduity. The performances of these
agents and spies have never yet been related as they deserved to be,
and this narrative of my adventures, personal as it is in its nature,
and limited as it necessarily is in its scope, will, I trust, be
regarded as
a not uninteresting or unimportant contribution to a history of some
of the least understood phases of the great conflict.
XXXVII.
JOHNSON'S ISLAND. — PREPARATIONS FOR AN ATTACK ON THE FEDERAL
REAR.
On the Way to
Sandusky. — I am introduced to a Federal
Lieutenant on the
Cars, who is conducting Confederate Prisoners to Johnson's Island. — He
permits me to converse with the Prisoners, and I distribute some Money
among them. — Arrival at Sandusky. — First View of Johnson's
Island. — I visit
the Island, and on the Strength of Colonel Baker's Letter am permitted
to go
into the Enclosure and converse with the Prisoners. — I have a Talk with a
young Confederate Officer, and give him Money and Despatches, and
explain
what is to be done for the Liberation of himself and his
Companions. — Returning to Sandusky, I send Telegraphic Despatches to
the Agents in
Detroit, Buffalo, and Indianapolis. — How the grand Raid was to have been
made. — Its Failure through the Treason or Cowardice of one Man.
T
Parkersburg I met
General Kelley again,
and had a talk with him, in which he laughingly
suggested that I seemed to be in as
much of a hurry to go West as I had been
to go East the last time he saw me. I remarked,
that in war times the enemy had a
way of putting in appearances at various points of the
compass, and that we had to go for him wherever he happened
to be, if we didn't want him to come to us. I also
hinted, with a little maliciousness, that perhaps the
reason why the war had lasted so long was because so many of
our generals instead of going after the rebels wherever they
were to be found, insisted on waiting for them to come to places
where it would be most convenient to fight them. The general
said there was some truth in that; and that if all the
generals were as smart about doing what they had to do as I seemed to
be, the rebels would have been whipped long ago.
It is pleasant to have
commendation even from those we are
fighting against, and I felt flattered at the general's good opinion of
me, although I knew that he was really not aware what good cause he
had to commend my smartness. I wondered
what he would say about me if he should suddenly discover
what kind of an errand I was then really on, and how, as one of
Colonel Baker's secret agents, I was aiding in the execution of a plot,
that, if successful, would cause a panic at the North such as had never
yet been dreamed of. But such things at such a time were not even to be
looked out of the eyes, much less hinted at with the lips, and I parted
from the general, with Cincinnati as my next objective point, with a
full expectation that ere long he would hear of me, or at least of my
work, in a way that would astonish him.
Making The Acquaintance Of An Officer In Charge Of
Confederate Prisoners.
After leaving Cincinnati
en route for Sandusky, I was introduced
by the conductor to a lieutenant who had in charge twenty-seven
Confederate prisoners. These he was taking to Sandusky to be
placed on Johnson's Island, and I, consequently, thought that he
might be an advantageous person to know, and that if I could manage
to get into his good graces I might in some way advance the interests
of the scheme I was engaged in by means of him.
This officer was a
rather flashy young man, who evidently thought that he
cut a very dashing figure in his uniform, and whose mind was given
rather to reflection on his own importance than to the acquisition of
useful knowledge. He was not, however, without a certain amount of
good sense, and he made a far from disagreeable travelling
companion, for we speedily got tolerably well acquainted, and he not
only was very attentive, but he entertained me not a little by his
conversation.
Not knowing what use I
might have for him, I tried to be as cordial
as possible, and long before we reached Sandusky we were on the
best of terms. I did not find out a great deal from him that was worth
knowing, for the reason, perhaps, that he did not know anything. He,
however, permitted me to have a talk with the prisoners, whom I
questioned as to what commands they belonged to, when they were
captured, and other matters, and gave them each a dollar apiece out
of Colonel Baker's money. Beyond asking them questions, I did not
say a great deal to them, for I could not know how far they were to be
trusted; but I looked much more than I said, and several of the more
intelligent among them exchanged significant
glances with me, which intimated that they understood that I had a
purpose in view in cultivating the acquaintance of the lieutenant so
assiduously, and was disposed to befriend them by any means in my
power.
As to the lieutenant, he
took such a decided fancy to me, and was
so excessively gallant, that he insisted upon paying all my incidental
expenses along the road. To this I could not, under the
circumstances, permit myself to make any objections, but I was
unable to avoid wondering whether it was his own cash or that of
Uncle Sam's he was so very free with. That, however, was no concern
of mine, and it would have been even more impolite for me to have
asked him the question than to have declined to permit him to pay my
bills.
It was midnight when we
reached Sandusky. The lieutenant,
attentive to the last, put me in the hotel coach, and requesting me to
keep an eye on his satchel, he excused himself for a few minutes until
he could dispose of his prisoners. I do not know what he did with
them; but while I was waiting for him, I was also wishing heartily that
they would manage to give him the slip and escape. Before a great
while, however, he made his appearance again, and jumped in the
coach. We then drove to the hotel, where he registered my name and
procured me a room. After seeing me safely installed in my quarters
he said good-night, and expressed a hope that he would have the
pleasure of escorting me to breakfast in the morning.
First Sight Of Johnson's Island.
When I awoke the next
morning I went to the window, and, drawing
the blinds, looked out upon the lake, seeing in the distance what I
supposed to be Johnson's Island. This little piece of ground, rising
off there so serenely and beautifully from the bosom of the lake, was
to be the scene of my next great effort in behalf of the Confederacy, —
an effort that, if crowned with success, would bring me more credit
and renown, and would do more to promote the success of the cause,
than all the fighting and campaigning I had done. On it were
thousands of brave Confederates, who were sighing for their homes in
the sunny South, sighing to be once more on the battle-field fighting
for Southern independence, and, all unconscious that the moment
was approaching when one good blow rightly struck would not only
put an end to their irksome captivity, but would go far to secure all
that they had taken
up arms for, — all that they had suffered for on the battle-field and in
the prisons of the enemy. It was a great responsibility that rested
upon me, this preparing the way for the grand attack which was to
transfer the seat of war to these beautiful lake shores, that was to
effect the release of these prisoners, and that was, perhaps, to end
the war; and I trembled to think that, perchance by some trifling slip
or mistake, the whole scheme might miscarry and come to nothing.
When I was dressed, I
rang the bell for the chamber-maid to take
my card to the lieutenant, to let him know that I was ready for
breakfast. When the woman came, I asked her if that was Johnson's
Island, where the rebel prisoners were kept. She replied that it was,
and that she wished they were away from there. I asked her why,
and she said she was afraid they would break loose some time
and burn the town. I told her I guessed there was no danger of
anything of that kind happening, as there ought to be soldiers
enough to guard them. She did not appear to be at all sure upon
this point, but seemed to think that a general stampede of the
prisoners was a very likely thing to happen. I was of
about the same opinion, although I did not tell her so, but followed
her down stairs to the drawing-room, where I found my lieutenant
waiting to take me in to breakfast.
During the progress of
the meal the lieutenant said that he would
have to go over to the island with his prisoners, but that he would be
back about eleven o'clock, when, if I would permit him, he would get
a team and we would take a drive. I thanked him, but declined, on the
plea that my engagements would not permit of my accepting his kind
invitation, although I might be able to do so at some future time. He
said he was sorry, but that he was afraid he would not be able to
permit himself the enjoyment of my company much longer, as it would
be necessary for him to return the next day, at the latest. I
professed to be sorry, but was not very much so, for I wanted to get
rid of him, having come to the conclusion that he was not likely to be
of much more use to me, while if he pursued me with his attentions he
might prove a serious impediment to the proper execution of my
plans.
So soon as he was well
out of sight, I went to the telegraph
office, and sent despatches to the Confederate agents at
Detroit and Buffalo, announcing my arrival, and received their
responses. This duty performed, I started for the boat that was to
carry me over to the island.
While crossing to the
prison camp, where so many of my comrades
were confined, my mind was filled with a thousand suppositions as
to what might happen. The least accident might bring the whole great
scheme to nothing, and I felt a nervousness and a dread of
consequences at the idea of undertaking the task before me that I had
never experienced when facing the enemy on the battle-field. So far as
any personal danger was concerned, I was no more sensible of fear
than I was when the bullets were flying thick and fast around me; but
it was a terrible sensation, that of feeling that the fate of a
magnificent
campaign was in my hands, and that upon my good management
would depend whether it could ever be inaugurated or not. The
sensation was such as a general might feel when making the first
movement in a great battle upon which the fate of a nation depended.
I did not lose anything of my coolness or my resolution, but I could
not help being oppressed, in some degree, with the weight of my
responsibility, and could not help wondering whether I would succeed in
doing, in good style, what I had been assigned to do, or if, after I had
finished my part of the work, my associates would have the skill and
courage to do theirs.
In The Johnson's Island Prison Camp.
On arriving at the
island, I showed my letter from Baker to the
commanding officer, and explained to him that I was searching for a
rebel spy, who was supposed to be engaged, or to have been
engaged, in some plots which the authorities at Washington were
desirous to learn the particulars of. My credentials were recognized
as correct, and I was accordingly admitted, without hesitation, into
the enclosure, and permitted to speak freely to the prisoners.
My greatest fear now was
that some of the Confederates would
recognize me, and would say or do something incautiously that
would lead to my detection. I was known to a good many in the
Confederate service, both officers and men, as a woman, and to a
great many more as a man, and there was no telling but that some one
among the prisoners might be heedless enough to claim
acquaintance with me, and thus spoil everything.
Glancing around the
enclosure, however, I could see no signs of
recognition on any of the faces of the prisoners, although a number
of them were gazing curiously at me, and after a bit
I began to breathe a little freer, and to be able to inspect the men
rather more closely, with a view of picking out a suitable one to
communicate with.
At length I spied a
young officer whom I had known slightly when
I was figuring as Lieutenant Harry T. Buford, and who I knew to be a
particularly bright, intelligent fellow. I concluded, therefore, to
speak
to him, and calling him to me, asked him a few immaterial questions,
until we had walked away out of ear-shot of the others.
Conference With A Confederate Prisoner.
When we were where no
one could overhear us, I said, "I am a
Confederate, and have got in here under false colors; I have
something important to say to you."
"I hope you have some
good news for us."
"Yes, it is good news;
at least I hope you will think it is, for it
concerns your liberation."
"Well, that is good, if
it can be done, for we are mighty tired of
this, I can tell you."
"It will depend a great
deal on yourselves whether anything can
be done; but if the prisoners will only co-operate in the right spirit,
at
the right moment, with our friends outside, not only will they secure
their release, but they will be able to hit the Yankees a staggering
blow."
His eyes sparkled at
this, and I saw that he was willing and eager
to engage in almost any enterprise that promised to secure his
liberation, and I was only fearful that in his excitement he would do
something incautious, that would interfere with the successful
prosecution of our scheme.
I therefore said, "You
must be very careful, keep cool, and, above
all things, don't give a hint as to who I am. Say that I am a Yankee, if
anybody asks you, and pretend that this conversation was only
about how you are treated, and whether you do not wish that the war
was over, whether you expect to be exchanged soon, and matters of
that kind."
"I will fix that all
right. What is it that the boys outside are going
to do for us?"
"I have a despatch here
which will tell you what are the
arrangements, what the signals outside will be, and what you are to
do when you see them. Give it to the party it is addressed to, and
consider yourselves under his orders until your liberation is effected.
When you are once outside of the
prison you will find plenty to help you, will be able to effect
some kind of an organization."
"Well, don't you want to
see the party that the despatch is for?"
"No, it won't do for me
to talk to too many; and it is better for a
number of reasons, in order to avoid any suspicion, that I should not
be seen in conversation with him."
"Well, I'll give the
despatch to him in any verbal message you may
send."
I then dropped on the
ground a package containing eight hundred
dollars, and said, "There is some money; conceal it as quick as you
can, and distribute it among the men as far as it will go."
He thereupon sat down on
a block of wood in front of me and
commenced whittling a stick, while I stood close to him with my back
to the guard, and with my skirts covering the package. Watching a
favorable opportunity, when the guard was looking another way, he
seized the package and slipped it into his boot, and then went on
whittling in as unconcerned a manner as possible.
I then told him that I
would leave Sandusky the next day at the
latest, and that with the delivery of the despatch I held in my hand,
which contained full and minute directions, my part of the business
would be finished, and that the consummation of the scheme would
depend upon himself and the others. I cautioned him to be
exceedingly wary, and to take none of the prisoners into his
confidence unless he was perfectly sure of their thorough reliability.
He promised to be
discreet, and then wishing him good by and
success, I shook hands with him, passing the despatch as I did so.
The precious paper once
in his possession, he started off,
whistling and whittling as he went, while I hurriedly returned to the
office, when I told the commander that I was unable to find the man I
was looking for, and thought that I would have to visit some of the
other prison camps.
He said he was sorry,
and hoped that I would have better luck next
time. We then walked together towards the boat, conversing in
general terms about the prisoners and the war. At the landing we met
the lieutenant, who seemed to be rather surprised to see me there. He
exclaimed, "Why, have you been visiting the prisoners? If I had
known that you wanted to see them, I would have escorted you over
to the Island."
I did not care to tell
the young man that, under the
circumstances, I preferred to dispense with his escort, and so only
said,
"O, yes. I thought I would like to take a look at them; and I can tell
you,
some of those rebels are sharp, if they are backwoodsmen. If you
don't look out, they will be getting away from you some day."
The officers both
laughed, and the lieutenant said, "I guess not;
they are always talking about doing that, but they never do it; we
have them too fast."
This was a point which I
did not care to argue with him just then,
so saying adieu to the commander of the prison, the lieutenant and I
stepped aboard the boat, and were soon on our way back to
Sandusky.
As we were crossing to
the town, the lieutenant again proposed
that we should take a drive that afternoon. I, however, excused
myself, and gave him to understand that I had engagements which
would prevent me from meeting him again. The young man, therefore,
to my infinite relief, — for his attentions were beginning to be
troublesome, — stated that he would return to Cincinnati by the first
train; and, when I parted from him in the hotel, I sincerely hoped that
he would do so, for I did not wish to have him watching my
movements.
I now wrote a letter to
Colonel Baker, in which I stated that the
man I was looking for was not at Johnson's I Island, and that I
thought I would go on to Indianapolis, and visit the prison camp
there. After I had dined, not seeing the lieutenant, I inquired for him,
and was told that he had gone. Being, therefore, in no danger of
meeting him again, I went to the telegraph office, and sent
despatches to the Detroit and Buffalo agents, to notify them that I
had visited the prison and executed my commission there, and one to
St. Louis, in accordance with the instructions under which I was
acting, for the agent there to send certain parties to meet me at
Indianapolis.
The next morning I was
off for Indianapolis, to continue the
search I had begun in Sandusky, although I desired very much to
remain in the last named city for the purpose of watching the
progress of events, and, perhaps, of taking part in any fighting that
might occur. I very well knew that by acting as a spy and as a
bearer of despatches I was performing much more valuable service
than I would as a soldier, and yet, at the prospect of a battle, all my
fighting blood was up,
and I could scarcely restrain my desire to be an active participant in
the great and exciting scenes I thought were about to take place.
I afterwards wished that
I had remained, for I felt confident
that had I been in Sandusky when the appointed time for
striking the blow came, and had been intrusted with the
direction of affairs, there would have been no such miserable
fizzle as actually did occur.
The Proposed Lake Shore Raid, And The Cause Of Its Failure.
The general plan, as the
reader has already been told, was to
organize a raid along the lake shores, to release the prisoners, to
gather about us all the Southern sympathizers who could be induced
to join us, and to make such a diversion in the Federal rear as would
compel the withdrawal of a large force from the front. We also placed
great reliance on the effects of the panic which, it was hoped, would
be created, and also on British intervention, which it was expected
would be brought about by a border war, in which it would be
impossible to prevent trespass upon British territory.
In addition to this, the
Indians were to be stirred up to acts of
hostility all along the frontier, from the lakes to the gulf.
The prisoners, as they
effected their escape, were to act according
to circumstances. Those at Sandusky, and at places nearest to that
point, were to unite with the outsiders, and form an army to operate
along the lake shores, and as far into the adjacent country as they
could penetrate, while others were to endeavor to effect a junction
with Price and Quantrell in Missouri, and to march under their orders.
The execution of this
scheme was to begin at a certain time, after
the prisoners had been made acquainted with such details of the
general plan as were necessary to be known by them, by the capture
of the Federal gunboat Michigan, and of such other steamers as the
Confederates could overpower by stratagem or force. This being
done, the prisoners on Johnson's Island were to be notified by a
pre-arranged signal, and were to make a break and overpower their
guards, with the assistance of the boats. The prisoners once free, the
organization of both military and naval forces was to be proceeded
with as rapidly as possible, and all the damage done to the enemy that
could be done with the means at hand.
In pursuance of this
plan, the Confederates in Canada seized the
lake steamers Indian Queen and Parsons, and started for Sandusky.
On arriving off that place, however, their signals were unanswered;
and after waiting as long as they dared, they were forced to the
conclusion that something unexpected had occurred to interfere with
the success of the plans, and had no recourse but to make their
escape as rapidly as they could, well knowing that the Michigan, if
she ever got her guns to bear on them, would blow them out of the
water in very short order.
The scheme fell through,
not because the party from Canada did
not keep their engagement, or were not willing and anxious to do all
that they had the power to do, but because one of the men who went
to Sandusky for the purpose of seizing the Michigan turned traitor. I
may, perhaps, be doing this person an injustice in applying this harsh
name to him; but if he was not a wilful traitor, he was a fool, and too
weak and cowardly to have been intrusted with such responsible and
weighty duties as he was.
Arrangements had been
made to secure the attendance of all, or
nearly all, the officers of the Michigan at an entertainment, and during
their absence the vessel was to have been seized. Before this
entertainment could come off, however, the man to whom I have
alluded was either recognized as a Confederate, or else he made some
drunken utterances that excited suspicion. At all events, he was
arrested, and on a search being made, papers were found in his
possession which gave the Federal government full information with
regard to the plot, and enabled them to take means to meet it. All
this might have happened, and yet no one been seriously to blame;
but this man, on the papers being found on him, confessed
everything, and revealed, not merely the particulars of the scheme,
but who his associates were.
He should have permitted
himself to have been torn limb from limb
before doing this, as I would have done, had I been captured, sooner
than I would have revealed anything to the enemy.
The failure of this raid
caused much disappointment at the South;
and the Confederates in Canada, by whom it had been planned, and
to whom its execution was intrusted, were greatly censured, and were
accused both of treachery and lack of courage. These censures and
accusations were unjust, for they did all they could do; and if they
were to blame for anything,
it was in confiding in a person or persons who were unworthy
of confidence.
The excitement which the
capture of the Sundusky party, and the
discovery of what it was that they and the Confederates proposed to
do, caused at the North, showed how great would have been the
panic that the successful execution of the scheme would have caused.
I cannot express the disgust and indignation I felt when I heard that
the plot had failed, and how it failed; and it was on this account, as
much as anything else, that I left the country for a time, and refused
to have anything more to do with my late associates and their
schemes, although I was still intent upon doing all I could to advance
the interests of the Confederacy.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
IN THE INDIANAPOLIS ARSENAL. — FAILURE OF THE
PROJECTED RAID.
I deliver Despatches to
Agents in Indianapolis. — Waiting for Orders — I obtain
Access to the Prison Camp, and confer with a Confederate Officer
confined
there. — I apply to Governor Morton for Employment, and am sent by him to
the Arsenal. — I obtain a Situation in the Arsenal, and am set to Work
packing
Cartridges. — I form a Project for blowing up the Arsenal. — Reasons for
its
Abandonment. — I receive a suspicions Number of Letters. — How I obtained
my Money Package from the Express Office. — I go to St. Louis, and
endeavor
to obtain Employment at the Planters' House, for the Purpose of enabling
me
to gain Information from the Federal Officers lodging there. — Failing in
this, I
strike up an Acquaintance with a Chambermaid, and by Means of her pass
Key gain Access to several Rooms. — I gain some Information from
Despatches which I find, and am very nearly detected by a Bell
Boy. — I go to
Hannibal to deliver a Despatch relating to the Indians. — Hearing of the
Failure of the Johnson's Island Raid, I return East, and send in my
Resignation
to Colonel Baker.
N
my arrival at
Indianapolis, I found two men from St. Louis
awaiting me, they having been sent there in compliance with my
telegraphic despatch from Sandusky. I had a long talk with them
about the condition of affairs, and delivered the despatches I had
for them. One of them — a tall Missourian — was to go to the
borders, to operate with the Indians, and the other was to report
to Quantrell, on some business of a secret nature. I had no idea
what the despatch which I handed to this second man was about,
and, as he did not seem disposed to tell me, I did not ask him.
In compliance with my
orders, I was now to wait in Indianapolis
until I should receive directions to proceed elsewhere, and was
to occupy my time in obtaining access to the prison camp for the
purpose of conversing with the prisoners, informing them of the
movements that were in progress, and encouraging them to make an
effort to escape, as no rescue could be attempted in their case.
Exactly how to get into
the prison enclosure was something of a
problem, as, for a number of good and sufficient reasons, I was
desirous of doing this without figuring as Colonel Baker's agent, as I
had done at Sandusky. Where there is a will there is a way, nearly
always, and I speedily found a very easy way to accomplish my
object.
Obtaining Admission To The Indianapolis Prison Camp.
Walking out towards the
prison camp, the day after my arrival, I
determined to try and get in, on some plea or other, and only to fall
back on Baker's letter as a last resource, when all other means failed.
Not very far from the enclosure I met a cake-woman, who, I surmised,
was permitted to go among the prisoners for the purpose of trading
with them. It occurred to me that, with a little management, I could
obtain admission along with her; so, going up to her, I purchased a
few cakes, and said, "Why, do you go into the prison, among
those dirty rebels?"
"O, yes," she replied;
"I go in there to sell them cakes."
"I did not know that
they let any one in."
"Yes; the officers all
know me, and the sergeant always
looks through my basket, to see that I haven't anything contraband."
"I would like mighty
well to go in there, and see how the
rebels look. Do you think they would let me in with you?"
"Yes; you come along
with me; I'll get you in."
When we came to the
gate, therefore, and while the sergeant was
examining her basket, the old woman said, "Sergeant, this is my
sister. She came with me to see how the rebels look; she never saw
one."
The sergeant laughed,
and passed us both in, without further
parley.
The cake-woman went into
the quarters, where she soon had a
crowd of men round her, investing their cash — and precious little of it
they had — in the contents of her basket. Looking around me, I spied a
major belonging to Lee's army, whom I had met in Richmond, but who
had never seen me in female attire, and, going up to him, I had a
hurried
conversation with him, in a low voice.
I told him that now was
the time for the prisoners to make a break,
if they wanted to gain their freedom, as there were no troops at hand
worth speaking of.
He wanted to know
whether there was not danger of being
retaken.
I replied, that I did
not think there was, if they made a bold dash,
and all worked together. I then told him what was being done
elsewhere, and explaining as well as I could the general plan of
operations that had been arranged, suggested that they should try
and reach the southern part of the state, and, after crossing the river,
report either to Price or Jeff Thompson. I then gave him some money,
and hurriedly left him, to rejoin the old cake-woman, whose basket
was by this time emptied, and who was prepared to leave.
This duty having been
satisfactorily performed, I wrote a letter to
Colonel Baker, informing him that the man I was looking for was not
at the Indianapolis camp, but that I had information which led me to
think I would find him at Alton. I, therefore, proposed to go to that
place, and if he was not there, I would give the whole thing up as a
bad job, and return East.
An Application To Governor Morton For Employment.
I had no intention of
going to Alton, but being under obligation
to remain for some time — how long I could not
know — in Indianapolis, I was desirous of employing myself
to the best advantage. Exactly what to get at, however, was
not an easy thing to determine. After considering the subject
in all its aspects, I resolved to go to Governor Morton
for the purpose of asking him whether he could not give me
some employment. My idea was, that perhaps, through the
influence of the governor, I could obtain a clerkship, or some
position which would afford me facilities for gaining information.
I accordingly called on
the governor, to whom I represented
myself as a poor widow, whose husband had been killed in the war,
and who had no means of support. Governor Morton treated me
kindly enough, although I speedily made up my mind that he was by
no means as amiable and good-natured an individual as my rather
jolly friend, Governor Brough, of Ohio.
After hearing my story,
he said that there was nothing he could
do for me, but that it was very possible I might be able to obtain
employment at the arsenal, as there were a good many women
working there.
This, it struck me, was a
most capital idea; and, therefore, asking
the governor to give me some kind of a note or
recommendation, — which request he complied with by writing a few
lines, — I left him, to
see what I could do at the place where they were manufacturing
munitions of war to be used against my Confederate friends.
I do not know whether it
was the governor's note that aided me, or
whether they were really in want of hands, but I was told that I could
have work, if I desired it. The ordnance officer — a German, whose
name I have forgotten — said that I was to commence work on
Tuesday, the day I applied to him being Saturday.
A Project For Blowing Up The Arsenal.
At the appointed time I
appeared at the arsenal, and was sent into
the packing-room, where I was instructed in the mystery of packing
cartridges. There were about eighteen girls working in the same room,
most of whom were rather light-headed things, interested in very
nearly everything except the business they were paid for. A good
part of their time was employed in writing, reading, and discussing
love-letters, which they were interchanging with the soldiers in the
field, and a number of them had a good many more than one
correspondent.
The society of these
girls was no pleasure to me whatever,
especially as I had things of much more importance to think of than
their love affairs. Immediately on Governor Morton suggesting that,
perhaps, I could obtain employment at the arsenal, the idea of
blowing up that establishment entered my mind. After going to work,
I looked about me to see how this could be done, and very soon
perceived that the thing was possible, and without much risk to
myself, provided I took proper precautions.
I found, however, that I
would not be able to blow up the arsenal
without destroying a number of lives, and I shrank from doing this. It
was a great temptation to me, however, especially when I reflected
that I was really in the Confederate service, and that it was a part of
my duty to do everything in my power to injure the enemy. I could
not, however, get it out of my head that there was a wide difference
between killing people in a fair fight and slaughtering them in this
fashion; and so, to get myself out of the way of a
temptation that was constantly growing stronger and stronger,
suddenly left, after having been at work about two weeks.
Had it been possible for
me to have destroyed the arsenal without
loss of life, I would most assuredly have done it; but the
circumstances being what they were, it has been a great satisfaction
to me ever since that I did not attempt anything of the kind, just as it
has been a satisfaction to me that I did not kill General Grant when I
had an opportunity to do so on the night after the first day's fight at
Shiloh. I doubt, however, whether there would have been a great
many men, either Confederates or Federals, who would have been so
considerate in similar situations, especially if the deed could have
been performed without risk to themselves. I am confident that I
could have fired the Indianapolis arsenal without serious danger of
being detected, but I do not suppose any one will think the worse of
me that I did not do it.
The great number of
letters I received from nearly every quarter,
within a very brief period, excited curiosity and
remark. After my first few visits to the post office the clerk began to
take
notice of me, and he would say something nearly every time I called
for my mail about the extent of my correspondence. What he said was
in a joking sort of a way, and under some circumstances I should
have thought nothing of it; but not knowing, from day to day, what
might happen, it caused me some uneasiness to attract this kind of
attention, both for my own sake and for the sake of my
correspondents. I very well knew that did the Federal authorities
suspect me the least of being a Confederate agent, there would be no
hesitation whatever about opening my letters; and if some of them
had been opened, there would have been fine revelations; for,
although many of them were obscurely worded, so as not to be
readily understood except by myself and the others interested, it
would have been a comparatively easy matter to have gained from
them a knowledge of some of the most important secret Confederate
operations; and this would not have been pleasant for me and some
of my associates.
For these, as well as
other reasons, I was anxious to leave
Indianapolis at as early a day as I possibly could, but was unable to
move for lack of orders, and also for lack of cash. My funds, in fact,
were running very low, so low as to give me considerable uneasiness
lest I should be unable to meet my expenses; and I anxiously awaited
a remittance, which, as is apt to be the case with remittances that are
anxiously awaited,
was a long time in coming. Finally, I received information that a
money package had been forwarded to me by express; but on
applying at the office for it, I was told that it could not be delivered
unless I was identified.
This was a perplexing
predicament; but I had gotten myself out of
worse ones, and thought that I would be able to find a way to
obtain possession of the precious package. Returning to the hotel,
therefore, I selected an envelope from one of my letters, and writing
a letter to myself, as if from my brother, stating that such and such a
package had been forwarded to me, I took it to the manager of the
packing department at the arsenal, and requested him to go with me
to the express office for the purpose of identifying me. He did this
without hesitation, but was considerably astonished to see me
receive such a large amount of money, and said, "Why, your
brother must be a very rich man!"
"O, no, he is not rich,
but he has been thinking of investing some
of his spare cash in real estate for some time, and I told him of a
good thing in corner lots, which I urged him to try and do
something with."
As an explanation of my
money package this was a trifle thin, but
it was sufficient for the purpose, especially as it was no concern of
his whether I had rich relations or not.
Within a day or two I
received orders by telegraph to proceed to
Cairo, which I did forthwith, and found, on reaching that place,
letters of instruction which directed me to go to St. Louis, and to
stop at the Planters' House for the purpose of seeing if I could not
find out something about projected Federal movements from the
officers who were making it their headquarters.
From the tenor of my
instructions I judged that I would not be
able to do much by going to the table as a guest, which would also
have been inconvenient, as it would have necessitated my providing
myself with a large amount of different kind of clothing from that
which I was then wearing. I was figuring as a widow woman in
greatly reduced circumstances, and, so far as baggage was
concerned, was, as the soldiers would say, in light marching order. It
occurred to me, therefore, that the best plan to pursue was to try and
obtain a situation at the Planters' House as a chambermaid. On
reaching St. Louis, instead of going to the hotel, I took lodgings at a
private house for a few days, until I could mature my plans.
On applying for
employment as a chambermaid, I was told that
there was no vacancy, and that there was not likely to be any; and I
saw very plainly, from the manner of the individual with whom I
conversed on the subject, that he had no intention whatever of
giving me a situation.
Nonplussed.
This rather nonplussed
me, and I was unable to determine what
device to adopt next. Some of the information which I was requested
to obtain was very important, and I had been urged to use every
effort to get it. I did not like to give the thing up without having
exhausted all my resources. I accordingly tried in a number of ways to
find out what I wanted to know, but was entirely unsuccessful. All
that I succeeded in discovering of any consequence was some
knowledge of the personal habits of the officers who were
lodged at the Planters' House, and of the times when they were least
likely to be in their rooms. My only chance, therefore, seemed to be to
gain access to their quarters when they were out, and to
the accomplishment of this I put my wits to work.
When applying for
employment in the hotel, I struck up a sort of
acquaintance with one of the chambermaids, of whom I made a variety
of inquiries as to the nature of the duties, and of my chances of
getting a situation. This woman had seemed disposed to be quite
friendly, and I, therefore, concluded to cultivate her acquaintance. I
was not long in becoming intimate with her; and, as I made her a
number of little presents, and otherwise displayed a marked liking for
her, she speedily took a great fancy to me.
Having, as I thought,
secured her friendship, I called upon her one
evening and invited her to go out with me. She consented to do this,
and we went up to her room together for her to arrange her toilet.
While she was dressing I slipped her pass key in my pocket. This
being secured, the next thing was to find an opportunity to use it.
When we returned I had
no great difficulty in inducing her to
extend an invitation for me to stop all night. We accordingly slept
together. In the morning she got up, dressed herself, and then,
missing her key, began an industrious search for it, I all the time
pretending to be asleep. Unable to find it, she went out, and I heard
her ask one of the other girls to lend her a key, saying that she had
lost hers.
So soon as she was well
out of the way, I got up and dressed
myself, and when I thought that the officers, whose rooms I wished
to visit, were likely to be away, — and I knew that if they had
breakfasted and had left the hotel they would scarcely be back until
lunch time, — I slipped down stairs to execute my dangerous errand.
Luckily I met no one,
and contrived to get into three rooms, where I
read a number of despatches and orders, one or two of which were
of some importance, but did not succeed in discovering what I was
chiefly in search of. I, however, mastered the contents of such papers
as I could lay my hands on, for I was bound to have something to
show for my labor, even if I did not get all I wanted.
Nearly Caught.
On coming out of the
third room, I came very near being caught by
a bell boy, who turned into the corridor just as I had finished locking
the door. Putting on a sort of bewildered look, as if I had lost myself,
I said, in an innocent sort of a way, "Which is the servant's staircase;
I think I must have got into the wrong hall."
The boy was not
particularly bright, and, giving the required
direction, I made off as fast as I could, not a little satisfied at
having
escaped so easily. On the stairway I met the chambermaid, who was
bringing me up a cup of coffee. This I drank, and then bade her good-by,
glad of an opportunity to get away without attracting more
attention.
On reaching my lodgings I
wrote out the substance of the
information I had obtained, and forwarded it to the proper agent, with
a statement to the effect that it seemed impossible for me to learn
anything more. In reply to this note I received a despatch by
telegraph, directing me to go to Hannibal, where I would find a
package awaiting me, which I was to deliver according to directions
which would be enclosed.
I took the boat for
Hannibal, and on reaching that place found
Major T., of the Confederate army, rather anxiously looking for me, as
he had received information that orders would be sent him from
New York in an enclosure directed to me. Obtaining my package from
the express office, it was found to contain a despatch from Richmond,
with orders for the major to treat with the Indians, and to aid in the
endeavors that were being made to excite them to acts of hostility
against the Federal government all along the frontier, from the British
Provinces to Mexico.
End Of Western Trip.
The delivery of this
despatch to Major T. was the last transaction
of the western trip which I made under the auspices of Colonel Baker.
Not more than a day or two afterwards I learned of the failure of the
attempt to release the Johnson's Island prisoners, and consequently
of the grand scheme, the success of which I had been laboring so
hard to promote.
I did not know who was
to blame for this failure, but I felt that if all
the rest had done their duty as efficiently as I had done mine,
success would have crowned our efforts. I, therefore, resolved to
return East, and to dissolve all connection with my late co-workers,
and with more than half a mind to have nothing more to do with such
schemes, or schemes of any kind that would require confederates, in
the future. I was beyond measure indignant when I learned, as I did
before I reached Philadelphia, that the whole thing had fallen
through, owing to the blundering cowardice and treachery of one
individual. I did not pretend to restrain my wrath, but the agent whom
I met at Philadelphia, after I had become cooled off a little, persuaded
me that there was no use in getting discouraged by this
misadventure, bad as it was, and that there was still plenty of
important work for the Confederacy to be done.
I, however, was so
decidedly unwilling to engage in any similar
enterprise, at least just then, that it was proposed that I should
attempt something in the blockade-running line. By doing this, it was
represented, I could not only aid the cause, but could make a
handsome profit for myself if I managed rightly, as my commissions
alone would amount to considerable. The proposition made to me
looked feasible; and, allowing myself to be persuaded, I wrote a letter
to Colonel Baker, resigning from the secret service, under the plea
that I had obtained other employment of a more remunerative and
more congenial character.
I really had not the
courage to face Baker again after the trick I had
played upon him, having no idea what he might know, or might not
know, about my connection with the projected raid which had been
so effectually nipped in the bud
by the arrest of the men in Sandusky who were endeavoring to seize
the gunboat Michigan. From the tenor of the letter which he sent me
in reply, however, I judged that he neither knew nor suspected
anything against me, and I concluded that I would finally have
occasion to make use of him again, as I could not tell what work I
might have to do before the war was over.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
BLOCKADE-RUNNING.
Making Preparations for
going into Business as a Blockade-runner. — The trade
in Contraband Goods by Northern Manufacturers and Merchants. — Profits
versus Patriotism. — The secret History of the War yet to be told. — This
Narrative a Contribution to it. — Some dark Transactions of which I was
cognizant. — Purchasing Goods for the Southern Market, and shipping them
on Board of a Schooner in the North River. — How such Transactions were
managed. — The Schooner having sailed, I go to Havana by Steamer. — On
reaching Havana I meet some old Friends. — The Condition of the
Blockade-running Business during the last Year of the War. — My
Acquaintances in
Havana think that the Prospects of the Confederacy are rather gloomy. — I
visit Barbadoes, and afterwards St. Thomas. — While at St. Thomas the
Confederate Cruiser Florida comes in, coals, and gets to Sea again,
despite the
Federal Fleet watching her.
HAD
proven myself so
efficient in managing matters that required to
be managed with skill, boldness, and discretion, during the time I
had been co-operating with the Confederate agents at the North, and
especially during my late Western trip, that my associates were more
than ever anxious to avail themselves of my services. They fully
appreciated my feelings over the failure of the Johnson's Island raid,
after I had performed the part assigned me so successfully, but they
contended that I would not be acting an heroic part to forsake the
fortunes of the Confederacy just at this juncture, when, although
things were looking exceedingly gloomy, there was a chance that
success might yet be achieved if all the friends of the
cause would stick together, and labor with even more than their old
energy to achieve success in the face of every opposition.
It was a comparatively
easy matter to persuade me to continue to
act as a Confederate secret service agent, although I was too angry
over the Johnson's Island matter to be willing
to place myself in peril very soon again by attempting to play a double
game, as I had been doing with Colonel Baker and other Federal
officials. I was willing to risk as much as any one when there was a
fair chance of accomplishing anything, but I was not willing to
undertake enterprises of extraordinary peril, and to run the chance of
being betrayed through either the stupidity or the treachery of those
who professed to be working with me.
I did not know how much
information Baker might have with
regard to my recent doings, but thought that it would be rather
remarkable if he and other government detectives had not discovered
something which it was not especially advantageous to me that they
should be informed of. I had no very great opinion of their smartness,
but, considering all that I had been doing, the peculiar relations
which I held to Baker, and the opportunities which the arrest of the
Confederate agents in Sundusky had given for them to obtain the full
particulars of the plot, and the names of those prominently
concerned in it, I did not care to cultivate the acquaintance of Baker
and the members of his corps any further just then, and was not
sorry to have an opportunity to leave the country for a time.
Buying Goods For The South.
This opportunity was
afforded in a proposition that I should
purchase a quantity of goods in Philadelphia and New York to fill
Southern orders, and should go to the West Indies with them as a
sort of supercargo, for the purpose of arranging for their shipment to
different Southern ports. I was also to supervise the shipment of a
variety of goods of various kinds from Europe.
It was thought that, as
in the cases of the proposed raid, a woman
would be able to do a great many things without exciting suspicion,
that it would be hazardous for a man to attempt. It was daily getting
to be more and more difficult to smuggle goods, especially
merchandise of a bulky nature, through the blockading fleet.
The tribulations of the blockade-runners, however, did not begin
when they approached the beleaguered ports of the Confederacy.
There were great difficulties in the way of purchasing goods,
especially at the North, and of getting them shipped in safety,
and then, in the majority of cases, they had to be taken to some point
in
the West Indies to be re-shipped, all of which involved trouble,
expense, and risk.
The purchase and
shipment of goods at places like New York and
Philadelphia required particularly discreet manage. There were,
doubtless, some merchants and manufacturers who would not
knowingly have sold to Confederate agents, or for Confederate uses
in any shape. For such, I had and have every respect, for they were
entirely honest and consistent in their opposition to the secession of
the Southern States. I am very much afraid, however, that these were
few in number, and I know that the prospect of cash payments and
handsome profits caused many men, who were loud in their
profession of loyalty to the Federal government, and bitter in their
denunciations of the South, to close their eyes to numerous
transactions of a doubtful character when opportunities for making a
good round sum, without danger of detection, were presented.
Contraband Trading.
Some Northern merchants
and manufacturers sold goods, either
immediately or at second hand, to Confederate agents innocently
enough, being deceived as to the nature of the transactions. No
dealers could be expected to maintain a corps of detectives for the
purpose of watching their customers and of tracing out the
destination of the goods purchased from them, and thus the most
ardent and enthusiastic supporters of the Federal government were
liable to be imposed upon. That some of these men were honest I
know, for I am aware of instances where the sale of goods has been
refused, on the plea that there was reason to believe that the
intention was to send them South. These refusals have.
been made
where the sales could have been effected with entire safety and with
perfect propriety, so far as outward appearances went.
These very fastidious
people were not numerous, however, and in
the majority of business houses the practice was to welcome all
customers, and to ask no questions. In many large establishments,
the chiefs of which were noted for their "loyalty," confidential clerks
could be found with whom it was possible to transact any amount of
contraband business, especially if the cash was promptly forthcoming.
Some of these people, I am sure, were well aware of what their
subordinates were doing; with regard to others, I am in doubt, but
think that they could scarcely have been ignorant of what was going
on, and only wanted to be able to say, in case of any difficulties
occurring, that they, personally, were not to blame.
There were, of course,
numerous manufacturers, merchants,
jobbers, brokers, and others, who were eager to make money
wherever it could be made, and whose only object in concealing their
transactions, so far as the Southern market was concerned, was to
avoid getting into trouble. Some of these people were loyal to the
Federal government after a fashion, while others were as undisguised
in their expressions of sympathy for the South as they dared to be.
Political partisanship was, however, not a very strong point with
either set; they considered it legitimate to make money by the buying
and selling of goods, without regard to what the politicians at
Washington and elsewhere might think or do; and, so long as they
bought and sold in a reasonably honest manner, their consciences
did not trouble them. With such as these, I and my associates
found it easy to deal.
If it was easy, it was
not always satisfactory to deal with people of
this kind; and during the last year of the war, especially, some of the
largest transactions were with houses that had reputations to lose,
and that were managed by men who aimed to stand high in the
regards of the government, and with those of their fellow-citizens
who supported the government. To do business with such houses
required some finesse, but, except in rare instances, it could be done,
without a great deal of trouble, and, as I am convinced, in a majority
of cases, with the approbation of the heads of the concerns.
Circumstances Alter Cases.
Looking at this buying
and selling from a Southern point of view, it
was not only legitimate and proper, but it was a violation of every
natural or political right for the Federal government to interfere with
it. From a Northern point of view, however, it was giving aid and
comfort to the enemy, and it was discreditable, according to the
extent which those engaged in it professed to be in favor of coercing
the South, and of sustaining the government in the prosecution of
the War.
The sale of goods for
the Southern market, and the active or
surreptitious encouragement of blockade-running, were, however,
very venial offences compared with some others that were committed
by people at the North, who professed to be eager for the
subjugation of the South. Now that the war is over, a good many who
made money by supplying the South with contraband articles, other
than munitions of war, can afford to laugh at the perils they then ran,
and to tell, without fear, of the kind of business they were engaged in.
As the reader, however, will discover, there was an immense amount
of evil and rascality going on, and some of the most trusted officers
of the government were engaged in transactions concerning which
there could not possibly be two opinions.
Villany.
With some of these
transactions I had considerable to do, and I
was cognizant of undiluted villany that unveiled depths of human
depravity such as I never would have believed to be possible, had I
not been brought in such close contact with it.
It may be thought by
some who read this part of my narrative that
I was as much in fault as those with whom I consented to associate
for the purpose of accomplishing the object I had in view. I do not
despair, however, of finding readers, even in the Northern States,
who will be able to take a liberal and charitable view of my course,
and to consider that I was acting as best I knew how to promote the
success of a cause which I felt to be a just one, and that I considered
myself as justified in doing the Federals all the injury I could, and in
promoting the interest of the Confederacy by every means in my
power. I am willing, therefore, to brave the censure of some, and the
only partial approval of others, for the sake of making my narrative
complete, and of putting upon record some very curious features of
the great contest between the North and the South.
These things have, many
of them, never been told before,
although dark hints with regard to them have been dropped from
time to time. They, however, are far from being unimportant, as they
exerted an influence, more or less potent, on the progress of the war,
and no history of the great contest will be complete unless they are
understood and a proper consideration given them.
In fact, there is a
secret history of the war, records of which have
never been committed to paper, and which exists only in the
memories of a limited number of people. That this secret history will
ever be written out with any degree of fulness is
scarcely possible, for reasons that will readily be understood; but
some idea of what it will be like, should it ever be
written, may be gathered from these pages. When I concluded to
give to the public a narrative of my adventures, I determined to make
it as complete as possible, so far as I
myself was concerned, for, during the whole four years I neither said
nor did anything that I am not willing the world should know. With
regard to my associates, Confederates and others, who were mixed
up with me in certain transactions, the case, however, is different. I
deem it proper, in certain cases, to refrain from mentioning
their names, as many of them are still living, and might yet get into
trouble through my utterances. I kept faith with them when we were
acting
together, and will do so still, although some of them were villains of
the blackest dye, who really deserve any punishment that the law
against which they offended is capable of inflicting upon them.
Having consented to make
a trip to the West Indies, I commenced
my preparations immediately, and was soon as deeply
engaged in commercial matters as I had recently been in
some of not quite so peaceful a character. Having once got started, I
speedily found trade, and especially this kind of trade, quite as
exciting as warfare, while it had certain attractions, in the way of
prospective profits, that fighting certainly did not possess.
I had some few
transactions with Philadelphia houses, but they
were none of them very important, and most of my fitting
out was done in New York, where I, and those with whom I
was connected, labored for a number of weeks, with
all possible zeal, being resolved to make the venture a profitable one
for
ourselves, as well as of advantage to the Confederacy.
Fitting Out A Schooner.
The first thing done was
the chartering of a schooner and the
engaging of a warehouse. In this warehouse our goods
were stored until we were ready to load. The watchman was
perfectly aware that we were engaging in contraband traffic,
but, as he was paid handsomely for holding his tongue, he kept his
own counsel and ours. When everything was ready, the schooner
was loaded at Pier No. 4, North River, and she sailed for Havana with
a regular clearance, one of my associates making matters all right at
the
custom-house, so that the vessel had no difficulty in getting away.
The greatest trouble we had was not in getting our schooner to
sea, but in making our purchases without exciting suspicion that we
intended to find our market in some Confederate port. To do this
required circumspect management; but some of those with whom I
was co-operating had done this sort of thing before, and knew how to
go about it; while I was not long in learning all the tricks of the
trade,
so as to be able to perform the part assigned me with as much
shrewdness as any of them.
According to the plan
which we arranged, I was to pretend that I
intended opening a store, and was to visit some of the largest houses,
and obtain their prices and terms of payment. The terms varied from
sixty to ninety days, or so much off for cash. At one of the most
extensive dry goods establishments in New York, — Messrs. C—— & Co., —
I inquired for a Mr. B——, who, on being informed that I had been sent to
him by certain parties, whose names I mentioned, introduced me to
a confidential clerk, who undertook to fill my orders, and deliver the
goods in accordance with my instructions. He understood the whole
matter thoroughly, and, from various expressions he let drop in
conversation, I had no difficulty in concluding that his firm was doing
a big contraband trade, although the principals, like many other
prominent merchants, were taking especial good care not to be known
as having anything to do with it.
The leading members of
this firm were very prominent as upholders
of the Federal cause, and it would have been ruin to them had it been
found out that they were surreptitiously shipping goods to the
South. I never was quite able to make up my mind whether they really
knew what was going on or not. At any rate, all the arrangements for
carrying on a contraband traffic were very complete in their
establishment, and any one going there with proper credentials was
sure of receiving every attention. If these gentlemen did not know
what their employees were doing, they were much less shrewd than
they had the credit of being; and I am afraid that a love of gain was a
more powerful incentive in their bosoms than
loyalty to the cause for which, in public, they professed so much
devotion, and for which they professed a willingness to make
almost any sacrifices.
With some houses we had
less difficulty even than with the one
mentioned, and with others much more; and in several places we
were compelled to make our purchases under more or less plausible
pretexts, and to arrange for having our goods delivered so that those
from whom we obtained them would have no idea what their
destination was.
It was a troublesome
matter getting our cargo together, but finally,
after many anxious days and nights, during which we expected every
moment to be pounced upon by the Federal authorities, our schooner
was loaded with wines, drugs, boots, shoes, buttons, and military
goods. I also filled several private orders, and, among other things,
purchased a handsome sword and belt and a fine pair of pistols. These
I obtained through a sergeant stationed at Governor's Island, whose
acquaintance I made, and who proved useful to me afterwards in a
variety of transactions, which will be narrated in their due order.
The Schooner Gets Safely Off.
Everything being ready,
the schooner set sail, and succeeded in
reaching her port without being overhauled. So soon as she was off, I
prepared to start by the steamer for Havana, having orders for coffee
and other supplies to the Confederate agent there. These goods had
been shipped from Antwerp, and other places in Europe, and from
New York, and they were to be sent from Nassau to Brownville,
Texas, under consignment to the Confederate quartermaster or agent
there, who, if I recollect rightly, was a Captain Shankey.
This trip to Havana was
scarcely as pleasant as the one I
had made to that city from New Orleans in the summer of
1862. The Atlantic Ocean I found to be a great deal rougher
than the Gulf of Mexico, and, for nearly half the voyage, the
weather was very stormy. The result was, that I was too
sick to have much enjoyment for a couple of days; but,
having recovered from my attack of mal de mer, I began to
enjoy myself, and felt benefited by the sea air. I was not
sorry, however, when the shores of my beautiful native island
began to appear in the distance, and felt much satisfaction
when our vessel steamed in under the guns of the Moro Castle, and
anchored off the city of Havana.
A Second Visit to Havana.
In Havana I found a
number of my old acquaintances of 1862, who
were as busily engaged as ever in running the blockade, although the
difficulties and dangers of the business gave them much discomfort.
The profits of a successful trip, however, were so great that they
could afford to brave them, and to submit to large losses through the
vigilance of the Federal cruisers. In fact, despite the annoyances
experienced from the blockaders, who were becoming exceedingly
keen in their scent after prizes, blockade-running was yet a very
paying business, and the men engaged in it would have
been quite willing that the war should have continued indefinitely, so
long as their ventures yielded as handsome results as they did.
What gave these people
the most uneasiness at the time of which I
write, was, not the stringency of the blockade, but a prospect that the
war would speedily come to an end. They watched the course of
events critically and anxiously, but from a very different standpoint
from that of myself and my associates, North or South, and I was not
a little startled by the evident belief that the collapse of the
Confederacy was near at hand. The cold-blooded way in which they
considered such a calamity, and the purely pecuniary light in which
they regarded it, shocked me, and greatly excited my indignation. I
could not but acknowledge the force of much of their reasoning,
however, although their total indifference to the fate of the
Confederacy, except so far as it affected their opportunities for
money-making,
had the effect of reviving my enthusiasm, and of making me
more than ever resolved to labor for the success of the cause while a
glimmer of hope remained.
A Trip To Barbadoes.
Having transacted my
business in Havana, I started for
Bridgetown, Barbadoes, to make arrangements there for the shipment
of goods. I went from Havana to St. Thomas in the steamer Pelyo, and
from St. Thomas to Bridgetown in a British steamer. The purser of
the last-mentioned vessel
was particularly attentive to me; indeed, I had not had so persistent
an admirer since the time I was escorted to Memphis by the Federal
lieutenant, whose fancy for me I turned to such good purpose in
carrying out my plans. The purser gave me his photograph, and made
me promise to write to him. The photograph I kept, and have given it
a proper place in my collection of curiosities, but the promise to write
I am afraid I broke. I hope the purser, who was a very good fellow in
his way, did not break his heart in consequence.
At Bridgetown I was
received very kindly by the friends of the
Confederacy there, but was disappointed at finding that Mr. M——, the
gentleman whom I was to see, was absent. I, however, left my orders
with his secretary, and started to return to New York by way of St.
Thomas.
At St. Thomas I was
compelled to wait some days for the steamer,
during which time the Confederate cruiser Florida came in under the
noses of the Federal fleet, coaled, and put to sea again. One of the
Federal men-of-war which was watching her was deluded into giving
chase to a mail steamer, and the Florida succeeded in slipping off,
and getting out of harm's way before she discovered her mistake — a
performance which afforded me exceeding great delight.
While in St. Thomas I
succeeded in contracting a loan with
Messrs. V—— & Son, a Belgian firm, on account of the Confederate
agents in Canada, and, this being done, I was ready to return to New
York by the first steamer.
CHAPTER XL.
AN ATTACK ON THE FEDERAL TREASURY.
The Bounty-jumping and
Substitute-brokerage
Business. — Rascalities in high
Life and low Life. — Bounty-jumpers and Substitute-brokers not
the worst
Rogues of the Period — High Officials of the Government
implicated in
Swindles. — Baker's Raid on the treasury Ring, and the Charges of
Conspiracy
brought against him by Members of Congress and others. — A Committee
of
Congress exonerates the guilty Parties, and blames Baker for exposing
them. — What I know about these Transactions. — Money needed to
carry
on the
Confederate Operations at the North. — Federal Officials
countenancing the
Issue of counterfeit Confederate Bonds and Notes. — I go to
Washington for
the Purpose of getting in with the Treasury Ring. — A rebel Clerk
introduces
me to a high Official, who, on Condition of sharing in the Profits,
introduces me to the Printing Bureau of the Treasury. — The Trade with
England in bogus Federal and Confederate Securities. — Making Johnny
Bull
pay some of the Expenses of the War.
N
my return to New
York, circumstances occurred which
called my special attention to the operations of the
bounty-jumpers and substitute-brokers, and having no
other schemes on hand, I was induced to interest myself in
the business of reducing the strength of the Federal
armies in the field, by preventing the re-enforcements
demanded by the government from reaching the front.
The efficiency of the
services rendered the Confederacy by these
substitute-brokers and bounty-jumpers, cannot be over-estimated.
Large armies existed on paper; but while the generals in command
kept constantly and uninterruptedly calling for more men, they failed
to receive them in such numbers as were requisite for keeping their
ranks
full, and many important movements were rendered ineffectual, and
thousands of lives were needlessly sacrificed, simply because the
recruiting system adopted by the government was far better
calculated for giving abundant employment to rogues of the worst
class, than it was for keeping the strength of the army up to the proper
standard.
The majority of these
rogues were Northern men, who, if they had
any political principles at all, were Federals. The fact was, however,
that they did not care the toss of a button which side won, so long as
they were able to make money out of the contest. The war, to them,
was a grand opportunity for driving all manner of schemes for their
individual profit, and the longer it was likely to last, the better they
were pleased, giving no thought whatever to the enormous
destruction of life and property that was going on, or to the
incalculable misery that was caused to thousands of people, all over
the land, every day it was waged.
Demoralizations Of Warfare.
I presume that such
villanies as it will now be my task to relate are
the inevitable accompaniment of every great armed conflict; and if it
could be clearly understood that warfare, no matter for what just
causes it may be undertaken, inevitably breeds corruption, in its most
aggravating forms, and that the longer it lasts, the more does
demoralization spread among all classes of society, right thinking
people would be apt to hesitate more than they do about encouraging
appeals to arms for the settlement of national and international
differences.
I doubt whether a good
many of the people of the North who
supported the Federal government in its efforts to conquer the South,
under the belief that their cause was a just one, and worth making
sacrifices for, had any adequate idea of the rascality, in high quarters
and low quarters, that was one of the results of the war. We read
about certain scandalous doings in the newspapers; but, apart from
the fact that many of the worst rascalities of the period never were
brought to light, it was impossible for the good, patriotic people who
contributed their money and goods, and who prayed, day and night,
for the success of the Federal cause, to understand the infamies that
were being practised around them, as I, who was in some sort the
confederate of the villains, and who consequently was able to study
the situation from the inside, could not help doing.
Had these infamies been
confined to a comparatively few
obscure men in the large cities they would have been bad
enough, and would have been sufficiently demoralizing in
their influences to make it a subject for profound regret that
opportunities for their practice should have been afforded.
Bad as they were,
however, the substitute-brokers and the bounty-jumpers
were not the worst villains of the period. Men high in public
station, and occupying offices of the greatest responsibility, were
engaged in robbing the government and in swindling the public, to an
extent that was absolutely startling to me when I obtained
cognizance of their doings, and, for the purpose of carrying out my
plans, became an accomplice in some of their transactions.
Thieves And Counterfeiters In The Treasury Department.
The treasury department
itself — where the Federal currency, and
the interest-bearing bonds, upon which was raised money to carry on
the contest, were manufactured — was the headquarters of a gang of
thieves and counterfeiters, who carried on their operations
for months, within my own knowledge, in a most barefaced manner,
and who, when at length detected and brought to bay, were able, not
only to escape punishment, but to retain their positions, and to find
apologists in their official superiors and in prominent members of
Congress.
I really did not know
what to make of it when I read the report of
the committee of Congress, which not only exonerated certain
treasury officials, whose misdeeds were discovered by Colonel Baker,
but which actually insinuated that the detective was engaged in a
conspiracy against them. I knew only too well how guilty they were,
and I knew that Baker had ample evidence against them, although he
was not informed of a tithe of the villanies they had committed. That
the secretary and the solicitor of the treasury should take sides with
them, and that a congressional committee, composed of statesmen
who claimed to be honest and patriotic, should, in the face of the
evidences of their guilt which were produced, sustain them, and
endeavor to punish Baker for having detected them, are things that I
have never yet been able to understand.
That they were
protected, and that attempts were made to punish
Baker, are, however, facts that cannot be denied; and certainly, of all
the disgraceful things which occurred during the war, this was one of
the most disgraceful.
No person has a better
right to speak plainly and emphatically on
this subject than myself, and no person who reads this narrative will
suppose for a moment that I am influenced
by any partiality for Colonel Baker in making the statements I do with
regard to the matters at issue between him, the officers of the
treasury, and the congressional committee. I know that the men were
guilty of the offences with which they were charged by Baker, for I
was one of their associates, although I claim that the peculiarity of
my position entitled my conduct to be judged by a very different
standard from theirs; and during the whole time that the investigation
was going on, I was in mortal terror lest Baker should discover that I
was implicated.
Who Protected The Rogues.
My opinion of Colonel
Baker's character, or of his qualifications
for the position he held as chief of the United States secret service
corps, is not the most exalted; and I have too vivid a recollection of
the fears I felt, and of the trouble I had in keeping out of his way at
the period to which I am alluding, to have the most amiable feelings
towards him. I was pleased, for my own sake, but I was astonished
beyond measure, when I learned that his efforts to break up certain
practices in vogue in the treasury department resulted as they did,
and came to nothing, in the peculiar manner that they did. It was
almost incredible that Secretary Chase, Solicitor Jordan, and Mr.
Garfield, and the other members of the congressional investigating
committee, should have taken the peculiar stand that they did; and,
even at this late day, I am unable to imagine any sufficient reason for
their conduct that will be at all to their credit.
Baker's raid on the
treasury department was a very remarkable
episode, from whatever point of view it may be regarded; and the
probabilities are that, had he been able to continue his investigations,
he would have found out some things that would have startled the
country. He, as it was, found out quite enough to prove that an
investigation was sadly needed; but it must have stung him to the
quick to find himself, instead of being rewarded for his skill and zeal,
placed in the position of a criminal, while the scamps whose doings
he exposed were protected by all the power of the government.
I have stated that most
of those engaged in the bounty-jumping
and substitute-brokerage business were conscienceless Northern
men, who were only intent upon making money
by every means, and at all hazards. A number of Confederates,
myself included, were, however, associated with them
in many of their transactions, just as we were associated with
some other rogues, for the purpose of embarrassing the
Federal government, and for the prosecution of the various
schemes we had on hand, up to the very hour of the downfall
of the government to which our adherence was given.
Making The Federal Treasury Pay Confederate Expenses.
To carry on our
operations, money, and a great deal of it, was
needed, and we had little or no hesitation in making the Federal
treasury pay our expenses, as far as we were able to. A large portion
of the funds used in purchasing substitutes, and in carrying on the
bounty-jumping frauds, was furnished by Confederate agents, who
obtained a good deal of their cash, directly or indirectly, from the
United States treasury. How this was done, it is my purpose to
explain.
I had little or nothing
to do with the bounty-jumpers until after my
return from the West Indies. My relations with the officials of the
treasury department, however, commenced not a great while after my
arrival at the North, and it was mainly my transactions with them that
made me so much afraid of being discovered by Colonel Baker, and so
extremely anxious to stand well in his good graces. I am convinced
that my intimate relations with Baker, as one of his employees, and the
confidence in me which I succeeded in inspiring in his mind, alone
saved me from detection when he went to work to find out what was
worth finding out in the treasury department. Whether, in case he had
discovered the
game I was playing, and had attempted to bring me to punishment, the
secretary,
the solicitor, and prominent members of Congress would have
rushed to my rescue with the same alacrity that they did in
the case of those whom Baker succeeded in laying his hands
on, is one of those interesting questions that must remain forever
unanswered. I am very glad, however, that, as matters
turned out, there was no occasion for me to appeal to them
for aid.
When I first learned of
the uses which some of my Confederate
friends were making of the facilities of the Federal treasury for
obtaining cash, I was rather shocked; and it took some time to
convince me that even the license of warfare, and the right we had to
injure our adversaries in every manner
possible, made such things permissible. When I found out,
however, that not only were counterfeit Confederate bonds and notes
freely manufactured at the North, without any interference on the part
of the government, but that Federal officials actually made use of this
bogus Confederate paper whenever they found it convenient to do
so, I had no hesitation in coming to the conclusion that we would be
perfectly justifiable in retaliating, and that we had the same right to
raid on the Federal treasury, and to injure the Federal credit, that the
Federals had to try and swamp our finances.
Bogus Confederate Securities.
It was Colonel Baker who
decided me to go into this business. That
individual always seemed to have a plentiful amount of bogus
Confederate bills on hand, to be used on occasion. On my Richmond
trip, as the reader will recollect, he gave me a considerable sum in
this
kind of money, to assist in paying my expenses, all of which was just
so much saved to the Federal government, — or, perhaps, to Baker
individually, — for I was travelling in the capacity of a Federal secret
service agent. On numerous similar occasions Baker found it
convenient to meet the expenses of his spies within the Confederate
lines with promises to pay, supposed to have been issued in
Richmond, but in reality manufactured and given to the world in New
York and Philadelphia. He seemed to regard it as quite a proper way of
fighting the rebels, to put as many counterfeit Confederate notes as
possible into circulation; and, when I discovered that he was of this
way of thinking, I was not long in deciding that we rebels had a right
to make the thing even by circulating as many bogus United States
notes and bonds as we could, especially as we would serve the
double purpose of aiding the Confederate and injuring the Federal
government, and as, moreover, we would be assisted by prominent
Federal officials.
Having made my
arrangements with parties in Philadelphia and
New York, and having obtained the information necessary for me to
make my initial movements, I went to Washington, and, first of all,
had a talk with Colonel Baker, giving him some information — real or
fictitious, as the case may have been — which I thought would amuse
him, and assist in convincing him that I was overflowing with zeal for
the Federal cause. This interview with Baker was in accordance
with a general plan I had laid out, for, especially when I had any
business of
real importance on my hands when Washington, I thought it best to
call on him and give an account of myself, than to have him or his men
getting sight
of me unexpectedly, and perhaps wondering what I was up to.
A Confederate Spy In The Treasury Department.
Baker's vigilance having
thus been disarmed, I went to a clerk in
the Treasury Department, and telling him briefly what I wanted, but
without giving him the details of the whole scheme, I asked him to
assist me in gaining access to the private rooms in the building where
none but the officials in charge, and the employees immediately
under them, were ever allowed to go, except by written permits signed
by the secretary. These rooms were chiefly those of the printing
bureau, where the Federal bonds and currency were manufactured,
although I also wanted opportunities for visiting such other portions
of the department as I might think expedient.
This clerk was a
Confederate sympathizer, like a number of other
Federal employees of various grades, and he carried his sympathies
so far as that he was willing and anxious to aid the Confederacy by
every means in his power, so long as he could do so with safety to
himself. He was not the sort of a man I had much liking for; but in the
kind of work I was engaged in prosecuting, it did not do to be too
fastidious about the characters of one's associates. Moreover, he had
proved himself, during a long period, to be a very efficient spy, and
was constantly in communication with the Confederate agents,
giving them information which often was of extreme importance.
It was probably through
him that my associates first learned what
was going on in the printing bureau, but of this I am not certain. At
any rate, they knew that he was the best person to apply to for the
sake of getting such an introduction to the private rooms of the
treasury building, as it was necessary for me to have, as he was
thoroughly posted with regard to the villanies that were being
practised there.
In response to my
application to this clerk for assistance, he gave
me a letter of introduction to a man occupying a very high and very
responsible position; so high and so responsible
that I was astonished, beyond measure, on being referred to him
on such an errand, who, he said, would accomplish for me what I
wished. This letter was so worded that the party to whom it was
addressed would understand that I wanted to talk with him about
matters that it would not do for everybody to be cognizant of, and I
was told that I might speak with the most perfect freedom to him
with regard to the business I had in hand.
One Of The Big Villains.
I accordingly went to
this official, and presented the letter
of introduction, wondering not a little what he would say and
do when he read it. His conduct satisfied me at once that
he was implicated in unlawful schemes, and that he was
exactly the man for my purposes. When he read the letter
he turned as pale as a sheet, and then red, while his hand
trembled so much that I was afraid some of the people in the
room would notice it.
He read the letter
through two or three times before he was able to
obtain sufficient composure to trust himself to speak. He finally,
however, said a few commonplace things to me, which meant
nothing, and were intended for the ears of those around us rather
than for mine, and then requested me to give him my address.
I did this, and then, in
obedience to a hurried gesture, took my
departure, without attempting to have any further conversation just
then, but feeling well assured that I could speedily be afforded ample
opportunity for an exchange of views with him.
That evening my now
acquaintance called on me at my hotel, and,
although we both for a time fought shy of the main subject, I readily
perceived, from the general tenor of his conversation, that he had,
since my visit to his office, been making particular inquiries with
regard to me. He remarked, among other things, that he had heard
Colonel Baker mention my name several times, and always in highly
commendatory terms. This was very satisfactory intelligence, for it
convinced me that I really stood well with the secret-service chief, as
something I could only guess at from that individual's manner.
At length he said he
thought he understood my object in making
his acquaintance, and, although he was not quite certain
what I wanted, he would endeavor to aid me by any means in his
power.
I then told him, plump
and plain, that I and my associates had full
information with regard to what was being done in certain of the
treasury bureaux, and that we had it in our power to set the
detectives to work in such a way that all those engaged in swindling
the government would be arrested and brought to punishment.
Instead of doing anything of this kind, however, we proposed to
share the profits of such fraudulent transactions as were going on in
the treasury department. As the agent and receivers of the others
interested, I wanted to get possession of one or more of the
electrotype impressions of the bond and note plates, such as were
used for fraudulent issues; and I also desired to obtain facilities for
visiting the printing bureau, whenever I might find it expedient to do
so, for the sake of conferring with certain parties there, and in order
that I might have an eye generally on what was going on.
My friend saw that I
"had him," to use a slang phrase that is very
appropriate in such a connection as this, for it expresses the situation
exactly.
He hesitated, however,
as well he might, before yielding to my
request; and after some immaterial talk, which expressed nothing but
his fears, he said, "Well, if I oblige you in this, I will place my
honor
and my reputation in your hands. I have never yet stepped aside from
the duties of my office since I have been sworn in, and what
assurances have I that you will not betray me?"
I knew exactly how much
of this to believe, and so I said to him,
"I don't care, sir, what you may or may not have done before this. I am
satisfied, however, that you are the proper person to assist me in the
matter under discussion, and if you do you shall have your share of
the profits. You can rely upon my secrecy, for I will be implicated as
well as yourself; but, independently of that, I think that my character
for reliability is sufficiently well known for you to have no hesitation
in trusting me."
"Yes, I know your
reputation for skill and secrecy; you seem to
have played it finely with Baker. I am glad somebody has managed to
get ahead of that fellow, for he has been making himself an infernal
nuisance about here."
This was said with
considerable bitterness, and I could not help
smiling, both at the words and the manner; for there was
something absolutely comical in the idea of my friend and those in
league with him considering Baker's negligence a grievance. I,
however, said nothing on that point, but merely remarked that Baker
appeared to be a tolerably capable officer.
My friend possibly did
not care to argue about Baker, for he went
on, without noticing the remark, to say that he would have to swear
me to secrecy.
I laughed at this, and
ridiculed the idea of my oath being worth
any more than my word under the circumstances.
He, therefore, abandoned
all notion of attempting to bind me,
except by the responsibilities I would incur in connection with
himself and the others interested, and began to talk business in a
straightforward manner.
This suited me exactly,
and it was not long before we had matters
arranged to our mutual satisfaction.
He agreed to furnish any
capital that might be needed to commence
operations, or to do any preliminary bribing that was necessary, and
was to have a percentage of whatever profits were made. As for
getting possession of a fraudulent plate or plates, I would have to
talk about that to the people to whom he would introduce me; but he
did not doubt, if I managed right, I could get all that were necessary
for our purposes.
Certain Business Suggestions.
There were other things
to be done, however, besides
printing bogus notes and bonds; and he thought that a thriving
business could be carried on in the genuine articles, which
might be abstracted and returned, after being turned over a
few times in the market, so as to yield a sufficient profit to
pay for the risk and trouble. The bogus bonds, he thought,
could be printed in Washington, and seemed rather anxious
that they should be; but I said that I doubted whether my
associates would consent to that; at any rate, I could not
undertake to make definite arrangements without consulting
them. The idea was to float these bonds, as far as possible,
on the European market; and it was thought that it could
readily be done, as they could be sold at rates that would defy
competition on the part of the government agents who were
working with the genuine articles.
Having come to an
understanding, and arranged a general plan of
action, my friend said that he would give me a note
which would obtain for me the freedom of the treasury building, but
that I would have to be exceedingly careful of it, and take particular
pains not to let any one but the person to whom it was addressed see
it.
I, of course, made all
necessary promises, and he, accordingly,
wrote a note, which he signed with a private mark instead of with his
name, and told me to call the next day at the treasury, and give it to a
certain prominent official connected with the printing bureau. He then
took his leave, and I had little or nothing to do with him afterwards,
his share of whatever profits was made being paid to him by some
one else.
My arrangement with the
parties at whose instance I went to
Washington on this business was, that in event of my being able to
make a satisfactory bargain with the officials in the treasury
department, I was to be the receiver and bearer of whatever they
might confide to my care in the way of bonds, notes, bogus plates,
and other matters, and was to travel to and fro between Washington,
Philadelphia, and New York as a confidential manager, while brokers
in the two last-named cities and elsewhere were to do the financiering.
The scheme was an
immense one, although it did not reach its full
proportions all at once; and it included not only dealing in genuine —
borrowed for the purpose from the treasury — and bogus Federal
securities, but Confederate bogus bonds also. These bonds were to
be, as far as practicable, put upon the English market, at the best
rates that could be gotten for them, and our — that is, the
Confederate — share of the proceeds was to go into a general fund, to
be used for
advancing the interests of the cause. As for the Britishers, we
considered them fair game, when selling them either kind of bogus
securities, for we regarded their conduct as treacherous to both
parties in the great contest, and thought that they might as well be
made to pay some of the expenses of conducting it.
From first to last the
British government had deluded the people of
the Confederacy with false hopes of recognition and interference;
and, as at the time of which I am writing, it was becoming daily more
apparent that it did not propose to interfere unless it could do so
without risking anything, the feeling against it, especially among the
Confederates at the North and in Canada, who were constantly in
correspondence
with agents in England and on the continent, was getting to
be very bitter.
It was determined,
therefore, to go for Johnny Bull's pocket, and a
lively trade in bogus Confederate and Federal securities was started
and kept up for a considerable time, which, among other things,
involved my making a trip to London, at a very critical time, as the
reader will learn anon.
CHAPTER XLI.
COUNTERFEITING AND BOGUS BOND SPECULATIONS.
Introduction to an
Official of the Printing Bureau of the
Treasury Department. — The Chief of the Treasury Ring. — I am
referred by him to another Person
in the Bureau, who arranges for a private Interview with me under a
Cedar
Tree in the Smithsonian Grounds. — The Influence of certain Rascals in
the
Treasury Department with Secretary Chase and other high Officials. — The
Scandals about the Women Employees in the Department. — Baker's
Investigation baffled. — The Case of Dr. Gwynn. — The Conference under the
Cedar Tree. — A grand Scheme for speculating with Government Funds. — I
obtain Possession of an Electrotype Fac-Simile of a One-Hundred Dollar
Compound Interest Plate. — A Package of Money left for me under the Cedar
Tree. — Speculation in bogus Confederate and Federal Notes and
Bonds. — How
the Thing was managed. — Increase of illicit Speculation as the War
progressed. — Bankers, Brokers, and other Men of high Reputation
implicated
in it. — Counterfeiting, to a practically unlimited Extent, carried on
with the
Aid of Electrotypes furnished from the Treasury Department. — Advantages
taken by the Confederate Agent of the general Demoralization.
HE
day after receiving
the note to which
reference has been made in the preceding
chapter, I took it to the person in the
printer's bureau, to whom it was
addressed. This individual did not appear
to be the least surprised to see me, and it
was evident that he had been apprised
of the fact that I intended to make him a
visit, and what the visit would be for.
He proceeded to business
at once,
when he had read the note, by requesting
me to call the next day at
his office, when, he said, the matter
would be arranged to my satisfaction. He was not disposed
to be talkative about the situation; and, as I found out shortly
afterwards, certain persons under him in the bureau were the active
agents in the swindling transactions that were going on, his plan
being to avoid, as far as practicable, any palpable participation in
them.
This man, however, was
at the head of the ring, and was
responsible for all the rascalities that occurred in connection with the
important bureau with which he was connected. Without his
knowledge and consent, the things I am about to relate could never
have happened. What the nature of his influence with the secretary
of the treasury and with prominent members of Congress was, I
cannot undertake to say. It was, however, sufficient, not only to
screen him from punishment, but even to secure his retention in office
after his misdeeds had been exposed.
Gross Immoralities In The Treasury Department.
The abstraction of
currency and bonds for speculative purposes,
and the permitting electrotypes of the plates used for printing bonds
and currency, to be taken and disposed of to outside parties, for the
purpose of enabling them to print bogus issues, were not his only
offences. He and another official, who occupied a very prominent and
responsible position in the treasury department, had several
abandoned women employed under them, at large salaries, and with
whom they were in the habit of carousing in their offices at midnight.
Indeed, so shameless and abandoned were both the men and the
women, that their doings became a public scandal, and did much to
bring about an exposure of their official misdeeds.
Before I knew anything
of these matters, Colonel Baker pointed out
these women to me as the pets of these two men, and told me about
their introducing them into the treasury building, and taking them to
the Canterbury saloon in male attire. This was some time before Baker
commenced the investigations which created such a sensation by
revealing to the public the vice and corruption that ruled in the
treasury department. Baker then said he was certain that villanies of
no ordinary character were going on, and that he proposed some day
to try and find out what they were.
The fact that Baker had
his eye on these officials, and others
whom I knew were guilty of transactions, that, if the laws were
properly administered, would consign them to the penitentiary,
induced me to conclude that I had best have nothing
to do with them; and, accordingly, I severed my business
relations with the printing bureau, after giving those interested a hint
to beware of the colonel.
This hint was
disregarded, for the reason that the scamps knew
that he could not commence an investigation into the affairs of the
treasury department without the consent of Secretary Chase, and this
consent, for reasons which to them were good and sufficient, they
did not believe would ever be given.
Baker Requested by Mr. Chase to Commence an Investigation.
It so happened, however,
that Mr. Chase, of his own motion,
called Baker in to assist him in discovering some suspected
wrong-doing in the department, and that individual, having then obtained
the requisite authority, immediately went to work with even more than
his accustomed zeal to find out what was wrong in the printing
bureau.
Baker, however, was
either somewhat obtuse, or else the person to
whom I have alluded as at the head of the ring, and his confederates,
were successful in getting him on the wrong track, for the first man
he laid his hands on was Dr. Stewart Gwynn. This old gentleman was
an eccentric inventor, who had a lot of queer, original ideas about
proper methods of printing the currency and bonds. Mr. Chase
believed that he was a great genius, and it is possible he may have
been. I regarded him, however, as a mere catspaw for the others, and
have never thought that he was guilty of any intentional wrong
doing.
Dr. Gwynn was arrested
by Baker, and was lodged for a
number of months in the old capitol prison. Nothing criminal,
however, was proved against him, although it was shown very
conclusively that some of his schemes were not very profitable
to the government. Much sympathy was felt for this old
man; and I, among others, went to Mr. Chase to beg for his
release.
I had quite a long talk
with Mr. Chase on this occasion, and he
was very emphatic in stating that the method in vogue in the treasury
department for printing notes and bonds was an effectual check on
counterfeiting. I, of course, knew, very well what a serious delusion
he was laboring under, and it
would have given me great pleasure to have undeceived him, could I
have done so with safety to myself and those with whom I was
associated.
Having captured Dr.
Gwynn, Baker next made an exposé of the
conduct of the other treasury official whom I have mentioned, and
certain female employees of the department, but he did not get at the
facts with regard to the bogus plates, and other matters of equal
importance, until a considerable time after. Indeed, I am not sure that
it was his investigation that brought the worst practices of the
printing bureau to light, but think that some one else had a hand in
making that revelation.
Baker Disgusted.
It is probable that the
manner in which he was treated by those who
should have supported him, after proving how the two men
mentioned were conducting themselves with the female employees,
may have disgusted him with the whole business, and discouraged
him from prosecuting his investigations any further. The exposé with
regard to the women created a great excitement when it got into the
newspapers; but the implicated treasury officials had sufficient
influence to brave public opinion, and to retain their positions in
spite
of the clamor for their removal that was raised. Indeed, so great was
the prejudice against Colonel Baker, in certain quarters, that, I have
no
doubt, many very good people actually believed the parties accused
by him were innocent, and were the victims of a conspiracy.
Besides this, the public
attention at that period was tolerably well
occupied with war matters; and Baker, having been bluffed off, the
scandal was forgotten in a short time. Baker, however, was very sore
over the treatment he received from Mr. Chase, Mr. Jordan, Mr.
Garfield, and others; and was especially indignant that the rogues
who were robbing the people should not only be permitted to go
unpunished, but should be actually protected in their villanies by
their official superiors.
With these matters,
however, I had nothing to do, having
discontinued my operations in connection with the treasury before
Colonel Baker commenced to examine into the gross mismanagement
of affairs in that important department.
In accordance with my
agreement with the printing bureau official, I
called at his office at the appointed hour, and was
referred by him to one of his subordinates. With this man I made an
arrangement for a conference under a certain cedar tree in the eastern
part of the Smithsonian Institution grounds, at nine o'clock in the
evening.
This man and his father
were printers in the bureau, and were
confederates in the dishonest practices that were going on, by which
the government was defrauded of immense sums, and by which
immense quantities of bogus notes and bonds were foisted on the
public. One of these men had a mistress, who was employed to do
some work about the printing presses. This woman conveyed the
electrotype duplicates of the plates to parties outside, and performed
other services of a similar character, for which she was paid
handsomely.
A Secret Conference Under A Cedar Tree.
Some time before the
appointed hour I strolled into the grounds of
the Smithsonian Institution, and after finding the cedar tree, hid
myself in some bushes near by, not being at all certain that some trick
would not be played upon me; for it occurred to me that perhaps
these people might not fancy my having anything to do with the
matters we were negotiating about, and would take a notion to have
me put out of the way in some manner.
My apprehensions,
however, were groundless, for I had
approached them in such a manner that they were compelled to trust
me, whether they wanted to or not; and their only idea was, with the
assistance of myself and associates, to make the grandest haul on the
treasury that had ever yet been attempted.
Ere a great while I
heard footsteps approaching, and presently
some one coughed in a significant manner, which I interpreted as a
signal for me. I accordingly looked out from my hiding-place, and saw
the man I was expecting. Having assured myself that he was alone, I
went up to him, and said, "Good evening."
"You are here, are you?"
said he.
"Yes, I am always
punctual on business; punctuality is the road to
wealth."
We then sat down
together on the grass to arrange our plans.
The scheme I had to
propose was quite a modest one, all things
taken into consideration. It was, that I, as receiver
and bearer for certain other parties, should be given electro-type
duplicates of bond and currency plates, such as we had information
were manufactured by certain parties in the treasury department. For
them we would either pay so much, or would share the profits.
My new acquaintance,
however, was in favor of going into
business on quite a grand scale. He suggested, in rather indefinite
terms, that he had a scheme for bleeding the treasury, which would, if
proper management was used, be an even more expeditious and safer
method of making money than by issuing bogus paper; but he
seemed to be a little hesitating about confiding all the details to me.
I therefore said, after
we had talked for some time without coming to
any conclusion, "Well, sir, what are your plans? I have no notion of
rendering myself liable to imprisonment for the plans of another
person, unless I know all about them, and understand exactly what
risks I run, and what I am likely to gain. If it were not for the sake
of a
great object I have in view, I would not engage in this business on
any terms, and would not risk my life and reputation as I am and have
been doing."
"What is your object?"
"That is a personal
secret, and it has nothing to do with any one
individual."
A Way to Get Rich.
"Well," said he, "this
plan of mine is the biggest thing that has
ever been tried on yet, and I am certain we can manage it, if we only go
to work in the right way. I have facilities for carrying on an affair of
this kind such as are possessed by no other man in Washington;
I know all the men in every department, and know exactly who can and
who cannot be trusted. I am acquainted with every private entrance to
the public buildings in this city, and am familiar with a great part of
the
rascality that is going on every day and every night."
"If that is so, you
certainly have advantages, and if your
scheme is a practicable one, I will take it into consideration."
He then went on to tell
me how he proposed using government
money and bonds, which were to be taken from the treasury for
certain speculative purposes, and also for floating bogus bonds, both
Federal and Confederate, upon the English market. He was to manage
the matter in thetreasury department, I was to act as go-between, and certain brokers
and others in Philadelphia and New York were to attend to the
outside business.
When he had fully
explained himself, I said, "I am almost afraid to
undertake such an enterprise. It will be no small matter to carry on
such operations as you propose without detection. Don't you think
you are trying to do too much?"
"I know that we will be
operating on a rather large scale, but if we
go about the matter in the right way there need be no serious danger.
We can begin on a moderate basis, and extend our business as we go
on, replacing the borrowed money in the treasury as it comes back
to us. I and my two friends will be responsible for procuring the
capital, if you will consent to be the bearer between here and
Philadelphia and New York."
"O, sir, you must not
let me be known to any third party in an affair
of this kind. If you will deliver to me the money in person, or cause it
to be placed where I can get it without danger of being detected, I
will undertake the job."
"Well, that is all
right. I will arrange everything for you, so that
you will be in no danger. I want this to bring in something handsome,
for I am anxious to get out of Washington, and so soon as I can make
enough money I intend to go South. My feelings have always been
with the Southern people; and I consider that they have been the
victims of unnumbered outrages."
"Why, ain't you afraid
to talk in that manner, you a government
employee? Don't you know that I am for the Union?"
"So am I," said he;
"but, for all I can make out, the Union is a
great big hobby-horse for speculations, and as other people are
making money out of it, I don't see why I might not."
An Electrotype Plate Bargained For.
I then returned to what
had been my chief object in meeting him,
by telling him that I wanted one of those electrotype plates. He
seemed to be rather disinclined to accommodate me in this matter at
first; but as I was persistent, he finally consented, and we parted,
with the understanding that we were not to meet again until I was
ready to report the result of our operations, and hand him his share
of the profits.
The next day a plate was
delivered to me at the Kirkwood House,
which I immediately put under lock and key in my trunk.
Subsequently I received a note, informing me that I would find a
package under the cedar tree in the Smithsonian grounds, and that I
had better go and get it as soon after dark as possible, for fear some
of
the workmen might pick it up.
The package, which, on
examination, was found to contain fifty-five
thousand dollars' worth of government paper, was waiting for
me, covered with loose leaves to screen it from any casual passer-by,
when I visited the designated spot.
Securing my booty, I
returned to the hotel, rang the bell for my bill,
and started for Philadelphia with all possible expedition.
The plate which I had in
my trunk was for one hundred dollars'
compound interest notes. Not very long after, I and my associates
obtained another one for printing fractional currency.
On reaching
Philadelphia, I commenced operations immediately in
connection with certain brokers and others, and bought a large
amount of bogus Confederate bonds. Having obtained these, I went
to New York, where I took rooms in a private house on Greenwich
Street, deeming a hotel rather too conspicuous; and communicating
with my associates there, we went to work with energy to turn the
money belonging to Uncle Sam, in our possession, over and over as
rapidly as we could, making it pay us a handsome profit at each turn.
A Lively Trade In Bogus Securities.
Some of this cash was
put into the bounty and substitute
brokerage business, but a large part of it was invested in bogus
Confederate and other securities, which were sold to brokers for the
English market. One private banker took sixty-two thousand dollars'
worth, and another twenty-one thousand dollars' worth, while
smaller amounts were scattered about in various directions, we
receiving English exchange and gold at market rates, which we
turned into greenbacks.
This business finally
grew to such an extent, that it was found to
be convenient to communicate with London direct. Correspondence
was therefore established with a banking-house on Regent Street, and
until the close of the war a lively traffic in real and bogus Federal
and
Confederate securities was maintained.
After we had been
operating six days with the money obtained
from the treasury, I telegraphed to my confederate in Washington,
stating how much had already been made, and asking whether I
should keep on. The reply was, to give myself plenty of time, and to
keep the thing going for ten days longer, and then close out, and
return to Washington in time for the monthly reports to be made out.
At the end of the ten days there was but five thousand dollars' worth
of Confederate bonds remaining on our hands undisposed of.
I posted to Washington,
and having notified my confederate
there when he might expect me, he met me in the Capitol grounds, and
I gave him a statement of the account between us as it then stood,
turning over to him the borrowed money, and half of the profits of the
speculations that had been carried on with it. He informed me that I
was just in the nick of time, as the reports had not yet been made out,
but they were about being, and he was beginning to get the least bit
uneasy concerning me.
I continued to take an
active part in such transactions as these for
several months, travelling to and fro between Washington,
Philadelphia, and New York, and often having about me immense
sums of money. At length, however, I became afraid to risk it any
longer, as Colonel Baker had commenced his investigations in the
treasury department, and accordingly went out of the business of
money-making for the time being. I did the fair thing by the treasury
people in giving them a hint with regard to Baker, and then made
haste to get out of the way until the storm should blow over.
As things turned out, it
was not, by any means, as much of a
storm as I expected it to be. Baker failed to strike the right trail,
and
the revelations which he made, while sufficiently scandalous, were
with regard to matters of very secondary importance, and he dallied
so much with these that the scamps were able to get ready for him.
This treasury
investigation did not do very much credit to
anybody concerned in it. Baker blundered badly, and failed to get
the main facts, which he could and should have gotten. He, however,
succeeded in proving in a most positive manner that the moral
characters of certain prominent officials were about as bad as they
could be, and that they were in every way improper persons to hold
the important positions they did. Despite the disgraceful disclosures
that were made
with regard to them, however, these men were able to secure the
support of those whose duty it was to have brought them to
punishment, and they were retained in office in spite of Baker, and in
defiance of public opinion.
What Might Have Happened.
Now, suppose that Mr.
Chase, and Mr. Jordan, and Mr. Garfield,
and the others who shielded the guilty parties, and who endeavored
to represent Baker as a conspirator, had, by any means, found out
who I was, and what I had been doing in connection with the
treasury? What a perfect godsend a discovery of my transactions
would have been! The whole party would have turned upon the rebel
secret-service agent with a ferocity that would have been intensified
by the fact of her being a woman; and any amount of patriotic
indignation would have been poured upon my head. Hanging, in the
opinion of these honorable gentlemen, would have been too good for
me; and there is no knowing how many votes they would have gained
by denouncing me as a fiend in human shape. The fact that I was a
Confederate secret-service agent, and was doing what I did to
advance the interests of the cause to which my allegiance was given,
would only have made matters ten times worse for me had my
performances been found out.
Luckily, however, I was
smart enough to take proper precautions
before putting myself in danger, and when I clearly saw trouble ahead
quietly got out of the way. It was not the woman who was working
for the Confederacy, and who was under obligations to do those
whom she regarded as her enemies and the enemies of her cause all
the injury in her power, who fell into Baker's hands, but certain high
Federal officials, who were under oath, and who were intrusted with
some of the most responsible duties that could possibly be intrusted
to any men. These people were under obligations of fidelity to the
trusts confided to them, which they could not thrust aside without
making themselves morally and legally liable to the severest
condemnation. In spite of this, however, and in spite of the facts that
they were guilty of transactions which deserved punishment, and
that ample proofs of their unfitness for the positions they held were
produced, they found ardent and efficient supporters in men of the
highest stations, who, day after day were denouncing the rebellion
as the sum of all villanies, and who aimed at making the public
believe that they were the most patriotic of citizens.
The why and wherefore of
all this I do not pretend to understand,
and can only congratulate myself on the fact that I was lucky
enough to avoid being made a scapegoat of. I well knew the risks I
incurred when I consented to become a party to the transactions I
have recorded; but, had I been captured and made to suffer, while
my confederates were enjoying the protection of some of the chief
officers of the government, I would scarcely have thought that
justice was being administered with exactly an even hand. As,
however, I was not captured, I presume that I have no cause to
complain because other people were not punished as they should
have been; only, it seems to me to be a queer way of managing the
treasury department of a great nation to permit such men as those I
have referred to to hold the positions they did, in the face of such
facts as were brought to light concerning them, and to treat the
detective officers who expose their misdeeds as the really guilty
party.
Counterfeiting Government Securities.
In the matter of notes
and bonds printed from the duplicate
plates obtained from the treasury, an immense business
was done both in this country and in England. The person to whom I
gave the first plate delivered to me printed eighty-five thousand
dollars' worth of one hundred dollar compound interest notes from it.
These were, so far as appearances were concerned, just as good as
the genuine ones issued from the treasury department. Of this batch,
twenty-five thousand dollars' worth were sent to England, and we
received exchange for them. The rest were disposed of to the banks,
and through various channels.
The bankers and brokers,
both here and in England, took these
bogus notes and bonds without any hesitation whatever, as indeed
there was every reason they should; for there was nothing to
distinguish them from the genuine ones that could avail for their
detection by ordinary purchasers.
It is impossible for me
to give any idea of the enormous amount
of this kind of counterfeiting that was done without apparently any
serious effort being made on the part of the Federal government to
check it. I and my associates had the handling of bogus paper
representing immense sums, which
we disposed of advantageously; but the amounts that passed
through our hands only represented a very small proportion of what
was issued during the war.
The headquarters of the
dealers in bogus currency and securities
were chiefly in Wall and Fulton Streets, although a number of these
swindlers were located on Broadway. With each succeeding month,
during the continuance of the war, the spirit of speculation seemed to
increase, and men became more and more eager to make money, and
less particular how they made it. It was not always obscure men and
insignificant banking concerns that were wittingly engaged in this
traffic in unlawful paper, but there were plenty who stood high in the
esteem of the public, and whose reputations for probity were
supposed to be unimpeachable.
As for myself and other
Confederates, we took all the advantage
we could of the general demoralization, and not only replenished our
treasury, so as to be able to carry on many operations that otherwise
would have been impossible, but worked in many ways to turn the
criminal selfishness and unpatriotic greed of people, with whom we
were brought in contact, to account, for the benefit of our cause.
CHAPTER XLII.
BOUNTY-JUMPING.
The Bounty-jumping and
Substitute-brokerage Frauds, and their Origin. — New
York the Headquarters of the Bounty and Substitute-Brokers. — Prominent
military Officers and Civilians implicated in the Frauds. — How
newly-enlisted
Men managed to escape from Governor's Island. — Castle Garden the great
Resort of substitute Brokers. — How the poor Foreigners were entrapped by
lying Promises made to them. — How these Frauds could have been prevented
by an impartial Conscription Law impartially administered. — Colonel
Baker
arrives in New York for the Purpose of commencing an Investigation. — He
asks me to assist him, which I consent to do after warning my
Associates. —
How Baker went to work. — Striking up an Acquaintance with Jim
Fisk. — Fisk
gives me Money for a charitable Object, and Railroad Passes for poor
Soldiers. — An Oil Stock Speculation.
HE
bounty-jumping and
substitute-brokerage frauds arose out
of a contest between the efforts of the Federal government to
maintain the armies in the field at their maximum strength, and
the determination of nearly the entire body of male citizens to
escape military duty by any means in their power.
Under the terms of the
conscription law, persons drafted were
permitted to furnish substitutes, if they could get them, and
consequently the purchasing of substitutes became an important
branch of industry, in which many thousands of dollars capital were
invested, and in which immense sums of money were made. This
traffic in human flesh and blood would have been bad enough had it
been honestly conducted, but, from its very nature, it held out
inducements for fraudulent practices which were irresistible to a
majority of
those engaged in it.
Anything like
volunteering, in a proper sense of the word, had
ceased long before my arrival at the North, but each locality being
anxious to avoid the conscription, made desperate efforts to fill its
quota of men by offering bounties, greater or less in amount, to
encourage enlistments. The payment of
these bounties was a direct encouragement to desertion; and, as a
very different class of men were tempted by them from those who
had enlisted, out of patriotic motives, at the outbreak of the war, a
vast
number of those who pocketed these premiums were very willing to
go through with the same operation again, and as often as it was
practicable to do so.
Bounty-jumping, or
escaping from the recruiting officers, and
enlisting over again, was carried on, in a greater or less degree, all
over the country, but the headquarters of the bounty-jumpers and
substitute-brokers was in New York.
The Purchase Of Enlistment Papers.
It was to New York that
the agents of interior counties came for the
purpose of filling their quotas, and they always found a horde of
brokers ready to accommodate them with real and bogus enlistment
papers, each one of which was supposed to represent an able-bodied
man, fit for military duty, who had passed the mustering
officers, been accepted, and was then ready for service. Whether the
papers were bogus or genuine mattered very little to those who
purchased, so long as they could obtain credit on them from the
authorities at Washington. It would probably not be making too large
an estimate to put down one half of the enlistment papers sold to
country agents and others as forgeries, while not one half of the
genuine ones, no, not one fourth, represented men actually ready for
duty.
Of course such
stupendous frauds as these could not have been
carried on without the criminal connivance of the officials of various
kinds, who were, in one way or another, connected with the
enlistments. There may have been some honest officers, soldiers, and
civilians connected with this service in New York during the last year
of the war, but I was never lucky enough to meet any. So far as I
could see, the whole of them, — commissioned officers, non-commissioned
officers, surgeons, clerks, notaries public, and others,
were intent only upon making all the money they could while the
opportunity for making it lasted.
The bounty-jumping and
substituting-frauds were perpetrated in
such an open and barefaced manner that I could not help wondering
why some efforts were not made by the authorities at Washington to
check them. At length, however, the services of Colonel Baker were
called in, and he succeeded
in creating quite a panic among the swindlers by the
investigations which he instituted, and the large number of the arrests
he
made. The war, however, came to an end before he succeeded in
discovering a hundredth part of the rascalities that were going on, so
that, practically, his investigations were of very little benefit to the
government.
The rates which were
paid for substitutes varied from five
hundred to twenty-one hundred dollars. The parties with
whom I was associated enlisted chiefly for the army, and did
very little for the navy. The bulk of our profits, so fast as
they were made, went to Canada or England, and some of the parties
who received the money are to-day living in luxury on it.
How The Recruits Escaped.
The recruits, when they
were enlisted, and when they
did not escape from the recruiting stations, — as hundreds of them did
every day, — were sent to Governor's Island. It might be supposed that
once there, they would have been safe. They would have been, had
the officers, commissioned and non-commissioned, been honest.
The temptations for gain, however, were too great, and there was not
a person in authority on the island who was not pocketing hundreds
of dollars every week by conniving at the escape of recruits. I have
known some of the regular professionals jump as high as sixteen
bounties, walking away from Governor's Island every time they were
sent there with as much ease as if there was no such thing as army
regulations and martial law in existence.
The way this was managed
was by the purchase of passes. In
going through the boat-house, a slip of paper, with the number of
passes on it, would be put in a book on the table, and on returning,
the passes would be found in the same book. The money for these
could either be folded in the slip, or an order on the broker's office
be
given to the sergeant.
One application for a
substitute that was made at the office with
which I was connected, was from a very prominent and very wealthy
gentleman of New York, who was willing to pay as high as twenty-one
hundred dollars for some one to take the place of his son, who
had been drafted. This old gentleman was noted for his advocacy of
the war, and for his bitterness in denouncing the South, and yet,
when it came to letting his son go and do some of the fighting, his
patriotism tapered down to a very fine point, and he was willing to
send any
number of substitutes if necessary, but not his son, if money could
purchase his exemption. He was a very fair sample of the kind of
patriots I was in the habit of meeting; and I could not help contrasting
the whole-souled enthusiasm of the Southern people with the
disposition shown by so many prominent adherents of the Federal
cause, to let anybody and everybody who could be purchased or
beguiled do their fighting for them, rather than to venture within
smelling distance of gunpowder themselves.
As it was all in the way
of business, however, I and my partners
endeavored to accommodate this old gentleman.
I knew of a couple of
barbers in Brooklyn, well built, and hearty
young colored fellows, and I accordingly went to them, and finally
induced one of them to enlist as a substitute for the old man's son. He
came over to our office, and on being enrolled, received five hundred
dollars, with a promise that the rest of his bounty would be handed to
him by the officer on the island. Privately, however, he was told how
he might make his escape by giving the sergeant at the gate fifty
dollars, but was warned not to return to the city, or he would be
arrested and tried for desertion. He acted according to instructions,
and deserted so easily that he was tempted to try it over again several
times, and I believe he managed to pocket several bounties without
being caught.
Enlistment Of Emigrants.
The emigrant depot at
Castle Garden, however, was the great resort
of the bounty and substitute brokers, some of whom actually had
agents in Europe, who deceived the poor people there with all kinds
of promises, and then shipped them, to become the prey of scamps
on this side of the Atlantic so soon as they set foot on our shores.
All manner of
inducements to enlist were held out to the poor Irish
and Germans at Castle Garden. They were surrounded by crowds of
shouting and yelling brokers until they were fairly bewildered, and
found themselves enlisted before they well knew what was the
matter with them. To those who hesitated, the most lavish promises
were made; their wives and children were to be cared for; they were
to receive one hundred and sixty acres of land; money in larger sums
then they had ever beheld before was flaunted in their faces.
One fellow would shout, "Here you are, sir; come this
way; I'm your man; I have five hundred dollars for you." Another
would say, "Here is five hundred dollars and a land warrant;" and
another, "I have twenty-one hundred dollars for you if you will
come with me."
The poor devils,
deafened by the clamor around them, tempted by
the magnificent inducements held out to them, and believing that
they really had at last reached the Eldorado of which they had been
dreaming, in the majority of cases surrendered at discretion, and
were marched off to act as substitutes for able-bodied American
citizens who had no fancy for fighting the rebels. Every broker's
office had its runners, just the same as the hotels, who were posted at
the emigrant station whenever a vessel load of human beings came
into port; and among them the poor foreigners, who came over here
to better their fortunes, had but little chance to become anything but
food for Confederate bullets.
On one occasion I saw a
squad of Germans who had just landed,
and who seemed to be looking for some one. As a runner approached
them, their head man, who acted as interpreter, drew from his pocket a
letter, and asked, "Are you Captain P.?"
"I am here in his
place," replied the runner. "What can I do for
you?"
The German hesitated a
moment, and before the runner could fairly
commence work with him, Captain P. made his appearance from the
purser's office, where he had, doubtless, just been receiving
intelligence of the arrival of his human cargo. The runner seeing P.,
and knowing that his opportunity was now gone, went off to seek
for his prey elsewhere, while the captain proceeded to take the party
in charge with small ceremony.
"Is your name P.?"
queried the leader.
"Yes, and you are — ;"
and without more ado, he hurried them off
to a den in Greenwich Street, where they were forthwith enlisted in
the Federal service.
These people, like
thousands of others, had been picked up in
Europe by agents, under all kinds of pretexts and promises, and
shipped for this side of the ocean just like so many cattle. Captain P.
considered himself as their owner, and he sold them to the
government exactly as he would have sold cattle, if that sort of traffic
had been as profitable as dealing in white human beings.
On one occasion, when I
was at the station, I heard a runner
endeavoring to persuade a party of Irishmen to enlist, by
representing that if they would do so, the Federal government, after
it had got through with putting down the rebellion, intended to
declare war with England, and to undertake the liberation of Ireland.
He said that the conduct of England in the Trent affair was an insult,
for which redress would be demanded; but that the government,
before declaring war, was anxious to have as many Irishmen as
possible in the army, feeling assured that they would fight against
their old enemy with even greater ferocity than the Americans.
The Irishmen, all of
whom seemed to have more or less whiskey in
them, became very much excited, and went off with the runner to
attend a meeting, which he told them was being held for the purpose
of taking measures for the liberation of Ireland. The place of meeting
was a recruiting office, and the liberation of Ireland, or any other
good work, was the last thing thought of by the people whom the
unlucky foreigners found there.
The wives of these
men — many of them poor, thinly-clad
creatures — were eager for them to go, especially when they heard
that such large sums were being paid, cash down, for bounties, and were
beguiled by all sorts of promises with regard to being taken care of
by the government, and given so many acres of land when the war
was over.
The government was
probably as little responsible for the frauds
perpetrated upon these poor, ignorant foreigners, as it was for the
many other rascalities that were going on. It is a fact, however, that
the Federal armies, during the last eighteen months of the war, — and
probably during a much longer time, for I am referring only to matters
that came under my own observation, — were mainly recruited from
these foreigners, who had nothing to do with the quarrel between the
South and the North, and who were induced to become food for
powder under all manner of false and fraudulent pretexts.
An Inefficient System of Recruiting.
The amount of money that
was squandered, through the system of
recruiting adopted by the Federal government, cannot be estimated,
while evils far worse than the waste of money were encouraged.
Playing the part I was, I had every reason to be satisfied with the way
things were being managed, but now that the war is over, I suppose I
have the
same right to express an opinion with regard to this as any other
matter of public policy.
I thought at the time,
and think still, that a most unstatesmanlike
blunder was committed in permitting conscripts to furnish
substitutes, and in paying bounties to encourage voluntary
enlistments. The results were, that the government did not get the
men it needed, while villanies, the demoralizing influences of which
penetrated to nearly every class of society, were directly encouraged.
There should have been a
rigid conscription law, under which all
citizens, whether rich or poor, would have been treated exactly the
same. The men who were drafted, if fit for service, should have been
compelled to shoulder their muskets and go to the front.
If there was any justice
in the war at all, it was a rich man's fight
just as much as it was a poor man's; and when the time came for
deciding who should and who should not take a turn on the battle-field,
the chances ought to have been equal, between the rich men
and the poor men, of drawing prizes or blanks in the lottery.
Had things been managed
as I have suggested, not only would
impartial justice have been done, but the proportions of the national
debt would have been greatly curtailed, while the generals in the field
would have kept their ranks full, and the downfall of the Confederacy
would have occurred at a very much earlier day than it did.
Colonel Baker Undertakes To Investigate The Frauds.
During the whole time
that I was interested in this bounty-jumping
and substitute-brokerage business, it was a matter of constant
surprise to me that some effort was not being made by the
government to put a stop to the outrageous frauds that were being
committed in the most open manner every day.
The matter finally was
taken in hand by Colonel Baker, who came
on to New York, and located himself at the Astor House, for the
purpose of instituting an investigation. He kept himself very quiet,
and endeavored to prevent those against whom he was operating
from knowing that he was in the city until he was ready to deal with
them. It was necessary that he should have some assistance,
however, in order to begin right; and, by that peculiar good fortune
by which I
was attended, during most of my career as a soldier and
secret-service agent, something prompted him to send for me, to see
whether I would not undertake to find out certain things for him
which he was anxious to know, but which he was afraid to trust
either himself, or any of the male members of his force to look into,
lest they should be identified, and the alarm be given.
When I received a
"strictly private and confidential" note from
Colonel Baker, requesting me to call on him at seven o'clock, on a
certain evening, at the Astor House, I scarcely knew what to make of
it; and, fearful that something against me had been discovered, I was
in considerable doubt as to whether to respond or not. My previous
experience with Baker, however, had taught me that, in dealing with
him, the bold way was much the best way; and so, after turning the
subject over in my mind, I concluded to see him at the hour
mentioned, for the purpose of finding out what it was he wanted of
me.
Baker Asks Me To Help Him.
I, accordingly went to
the Astor House, and sent up my name. The
colonel met me in the parlor, and, as he seated himself beside me, he
said, with a smile, "Now tell me, my good woman, what have you
been doing with yourself?"
This might be a merely
friendly greeting, and it might be just the
opposite; but, although I almost feared that my time was come, I was
determined not to give him a chance to suspect me by my words or
manner. So I said, "O, I have been visiting my relations."
"I received your
letter," continued the colonel, "but I have been
a little surprised at not seeing you in Washington since your return
from the West."
"I didn't go to
Washington, because I really didn't care to see
you. The fact is, I made such a bad failure in what I undertook to do
on that trip, that I was ashamed of myself."
Baker, however, took a
good-natured view of what he was pleased
to call my bad luck, and went on to tell me what his errand in New
York was, and to ask me to aid him in certain matters that he
mentioned.
I professed to know
little or nothing about the bounty and
substitute frauds, but, after discussing the subject pretty thoroughly
with him, consented to try and find out what he
wanted, and to sound certain people for him, in order to ascertain
whether they were willing to aid him in carrying on his
investigations.
The first thing I did
after parting with Baker was to warn my
associates, so that they might close out before it was too late to do
so on advantageous terms. What became of the others in the
business I did not care, and was rather glad than otherwise to have
an opportunity of putting Baker on their track.
In a couple of days I
furnished the colonel with the information he
wanted, and, before a great while, the whole bounty-jumping
fraternity were thrown into consternation by his raid upon them.
Baker at first
represented himself as the agent of an interior county,
and in that capacity he bought up a large number of forged enlistment
papers, and became acquainted with the men who had them for sale,
and with the manner of preparing them. He also disguised himself in
various ways, and jumped several bounties in the course of one day.
One of his men was enlisted, sent over to Governor's Island, bought
off, enlisted again, and bought off again, for the purpose of
demonstrating how the thing could be done. Finally, when he
understood the whole business, he laid his plans, and made an
immense number of arrests; but before he had more than fairly gotten
under way with his work the assassination of Mr. Lincoln occurred,
and he was recalled to Washington, to take a part in the search that
was being made for Booth and his companions.
During the time I was
engaged in the bounty and substitute
brokerage business, I was interested, in a greater or less degree, in
several other enterprises, and went on several expeditions, the
particulars of the most important of which will be related in
subsequent chapters. My circle of acquaintance among the better
class of people was large, and I took great pains to keep on the best
terms with ladies and gentlemen of influence who were known to be
ardent supporters of the Federal cause.
In conjunction with some
other ladies, I at one time started on a
begging expedition, and after canvassing a large part of Brooklyn, I
went up to Albany. I collected, in all, seventeen hundred dollars, half
of which I gave to the Soldiers' Aid Society, and the other half to the
Southern Relief Fund, in which I had a more particular interest.
Among the noted
characters whose acquaintance I made at this
period was Jim Fisk. I had heard a great deal about him, and had a
strong desire to see him. Hearing that he was to dine with certain
parties at Delmonico's, I hired a handsome turnout, and, dressing
myself very elegantly, went there with a couple of friends.
On entering the
dining-hall, I inquired of the waiter whether Mr.
Fisk was in the room. He replied that he had just come in, and pointed
him out to me. I went, with my friends, to the table next to his, for I
was anxious to have a good look at him, and to hear him talk.
Fisk was one of the
finest looking men I ever saw. He had a very
handsome head, and a large, noble eye, and he was as pleasant and
affable in his manners as he was attractive in his personal
appearance. I was greatly taken with him at first sight, and became
inspired with a very ardent desire to make his acquaintance.
He glanced over at my
little party with a smile, as much as to say,
"I wonder who you are!" We were ready to leave before he was, but
I said to my friends, "Let us wait a little; I am expecting some one;"
my object being to find an opportunity to exchange words with Fisk.
At length I saw that he was through his dinner, and so said, "I do
not believe my friend is coming; perhaps we had better not wait any
longer." We then walked slowly towards the door, and I lingered as
long as I could at the cashier's desk, paying for my dinner. Fisk
passed by me, and as I and my companions went out, he was
standing in the door-way, conversing with some one. When
stepping into the carriage, I purposely dropped my handkerchief, and
had the satisfaction of seeing him come forward and pick it up. He
handed it to me with a smile, and made a very courteous bow in
return for my rather profuse expressions of thanks.
Fisk afterwards
recognized me a number of times when I met him
driving in the Park, and twice, when I went to see him on business, he
complied with my requests without the least hesitation. One of my
interviews with him was when I was on a begging expedition for the
Soldiers' Aid Society. He gave me three hundred dollars, of which I
gave twenty-five dollars to the society, and the balance to the
Southern Relief Fund. My second call was to ask for a pass for some
poor soldiers. He granted it immediately, without asking any
questions, and did not have any idea that the soldiers
were escaped Confederate prisoners, who were trying to get through
to Canada.
Fisk may have been
profligate in his life, and, from a certain
standpoint, may have been a bad man. He had some truly noble
qualities, however, and it is no wonder that he had so many warm
personal friends.
Among the other
incidents of this period, a little speculation in oil
stock is worthy of a brief mention. While on a visit to Philadelphia I
met an oil man, who, after a good deal of talk, finally induced me to
take a small interest in his company. I learned, however, from one of
my Confederate friends, very shortly after, that the thing was a fraud,
and sold out, fortunately, at a profit.
CHAPTER XLIII.
THE SURRENDER OF LEE.
Another Expedition to
the West. — Hiring out as a House Servant. — A
Termagant Mistress. — Obtaining a Situation in a Copperhead
Family. — Introduction to Confederate Sympathizers. — A
Contribution to the Fund for
the Relief of Confederate Prisoners. — I go to Canada, and from there to
New
York, with Orders for various Confederate Agents. — Sherman's March
through the Carolinas. — I am induced to go to London on a financial
Mission. — Unsatisfactory News received, and I hasten Home. — The
News of Lee's
Surrender brought on board the Steamer by the Pilot. — Excitement in Wall
Street. — A Settlement with my Partner, and the Last of my secret
Banking.
MAKE
no pretence of
relating in detail my movements while acting
as a Confederate secret-service agent at the North, as such a course
would but increase the bulk of this volume without adding to its
interest, and would be apt to weary, rather than entertain the reader.
I was coming and going constantly, my principal line of travel being
between New York and Washington, although I made a number of
trips to Canada, and to various points in the States. While
conducting the operations which have just been narrated, I was,
also, as will readily be understood, transacting business of a varied
nature on account of the Confederacy, and sometimes was kept very
steadily on the road. A narration of my movements just previous to
the close of the war will give a sufficient notion of the kind of work I
was engaged in, and will serve to complete the story of this portion
of my career.
Shortly after my
interview with Colonel Baker at the Astor
House, and my consequent withdrawal from all connection with the
bounty and substitute brokerage business, I was requested to make
a journey to the West, for the purpose of procuring some
information which my associates deemed of importance.
A number of the
Confederate agents were maturing another
grand scheme for the release of the prisoners, and, I think, had some
idea of organizing them into an army, for the purpose of an attack in
the Federal rear.
The Johnson's Island
failure had so completely discouraged
me, that I had no faith in any schemes of this kind, although my
profound sympathy for the poor prisoners induced me to attempt
anything in my power in their behalf. I thought that, even if I could
not procure their release, I at least might do something to aid them,
and to promote their comfort. I therefore accepted the mission
confided to me without hesitation, and once more turned my face
westward.
My first stopping-place
was Dayton, Ohio. There, in accordance
with my understanding with those who had sent me, I dressed myself
as a poor girl, and began to look for a situation to do housework. I
was rather a novice at this business, but thought that I was not too
old to learn, and had the satisfaction of knowing that in case I and
my employers did not get on agreeably together, there was no
particular necessity for my remaining a moment longer than suited
my own convenience.
One Way Of Getting Information.
I was not very long in
obtaining a situation in a family of Union
proclivities, and by a few well-directed inquiries, and by listening to
the conversation that was going on in the family, I discovered that
there were a number of "Copperheads" in the city, and learned the
names of some of the most prominent of them. I also picked up much
other useful information that might otherwise have been
unattainable.
Before I had been in the
house three days, the bad temper of its
mistress got the better of me, and, concluding that it would be
impossible for me to endure her insolence any longer without
unpleasant consequences to both of us, I resolved to leave.
This woman had a vile
temper, and it seemed to me that she did
nothing but scold and find fault from morning till night. As her
treatment of me was undoubtedly exactly what she accorded to
every young woman she took into her employ, I wondered how
she ever managed to keep a servant. I am sure that
had I been under the necessity of earning my bread
and butter by doing housework I never could have endured such a
termagant, and I felt sentiments of sincerest pity for
poor girls who are compelled to put up with the insolence and bad
tempers of people of this kind.
Having made up my mind
to leave, I commenced looking about me
for another situation, and very speedily found one to my liking in a
Copperhead family.
My arrangements being
made, the next time the madam undertook
to be saucy to me, I answered her in her own fashion, and in a few
moments we were engaged in a furious quarrel, which I doubt not
would have appeared amusing enough, and ridiculous enough, to
any impartial looker-on. Finally I said, with all the dignity I could
command, "Madam, I will leave your house this instant, for you shall
never have the satisfaction of saying that you discharged a Cuban
from your employ."
"Why, are you a Cuban?"
she said, calming down somewhat.
I then began to speak
Spanish to her, and at this unexpected
development she put on the most puzzled expression imaginable.
Without paying any more
attention to her I went out, and
engaging a man to take my trunk, began to prepare for my departure.
When my trunk, with the Cuban express card on it, came down stairs,
I pointed it out to her, and she opened her eyes considerably. She
now began to be a trifle more gracious in her manner, and making a
rather awkward apology for her behavior, saying, that she did not
mean anything, and that I must not mind her being a little hasty
tempered, and requested me to reconsider my determination to leave.
I told her that there
was no use saying anything on that point, as I
had already made an engagement elsewhere. She inquired where;
and I said, with so and so, around the corner, mentioning the names
of the persons.
"Why," said she, opening
her eyes, and throwing up her hands
in horror, "you are not surely going with them! Don't you know
that they are rebels?"
"Well, suppose they are;
they are as good as other people, if they
behave themselves. We have plenty of rebels in Cuba."
Seeing that it was
impossible to restrain me from going, she
offered to pay me for the time I had been in her employ; but, with a
rather contemptuous wave of my hand, I told her she might keep it,
or, if she wished, give it to some charitable object, as I was not in
need of it; and without more words
with her, walked out of the house, and betook myself to my new
quarters.
Among Friends.
In the evening, as I was
going out of the room where the family
were at supper, I heard the old gentleman, who sat at the head of the
table, say to his wife, "Where did you come across that nice, tidy
piece of furniture?"
The lady replied, "O,
she was at Mrs. B.'s, and they were too
much down on the rebels to suit her."
When I came into the
room again, the old gentleman, turning
towards me, inquired, "Are you a Yankee girl?"
"No, sir," I replied; "I
am a Cuban, and am a true Southern
sympathizer."
"Well, if that is the
case, you have got into the right place at last.
I am from old Virginia, and I would not have one of those d — d Yankee
women about the house."
In the evening the lady
of the house came to my room just as I
was unpacking my trunk. She seemed to be surprised at the extent
and style of my wardrobe, and exclaimed, "Dear me, what a lot of
nice things you have there!"
"Yes," I replied. "Where
I came from we are accustomed to
having nice things."
As I thought that some
curiosity with regard to me would be
excited, I resolved to try and overhear the conversation between the
old lady and her husband; so, when she left me, I hastily slipped off
my shoes, and, cautiously following her down stairs, stood at the
door of the parlor and listened. She gave quite a glowing account of
the elegant dresses and other matters she had seen in my trunk, and
said, "I wonder who she is, for she has not always been a servant,
that is certain."
"No; she don't look like
a servant," said the old gentleman.
"Suppose she should be a
spy?"
"Well, she may be, and
we will have to be cautious what we say
before her. Is she in her room?"
"Yes."
"I will have a talk with
her to-morrow, and try and get her to say
something with regard to who she is, and where she comes from."
This was all very
satisfactory, so far as it went, and I crept back to
my room as softly as I could, and went to bed.
The next morning the old
gentleman came into the room when I
was arranging the breakfast-table, and said, without any preliminaries,
"Were you ever married?"
"Yes, sir; I am a
widow."
"And you were never
married again?"
"No, sir."
"Wouldn't you like to
be?"
"Well, I wouldn't mind
if the right kind of a man offered himself. I
don't care to marry any of your Yankees, however, and the Southern
boys are all in the field."
"Look here; ain't you
from the South?"
"I have been there."
"I thought so. Because
you found yourself among strangers, and
got out of money, is, I suppose, the reason why you have hired out."
"Yes, sir. It is rather
hard, after having had plenty, and after being
waited on by servants, to do this kind of work; but it is honorable."
"Put down those plates,"
said the old gentleman, with
considerable emphasis; "you can't do any work for me; but my
house is open to you, and you are welcome to stay as long as it suits
you."
"Here, old woman," he
cried to his wife, who just then came into
the room, "she is not going to be a servant in our house; she is a
genuine Southerner, and we must treat her as well as we know how."
Obtaining Information About The Prisoners.
I was forthwith
installed as a privileged guest, and in the course of
a few days I was introduced to a number of Southern sympathizers.
Among my new acquaintance was a Confederate soldier who had
escaped from one of the prison camps, and who was endeavoring to
make his way South. From him I learned that Cleveland was a general
rendezvous for escaped prisoners, and I accordingly resolved to go
there.
I had given my
entertainers to understand that I was on some
secret errand, but did not tell them what; while they appreciated the
importance of saying no more than was necessary about such
matters, and asked me no impertinent questions. When I made up my
mind to leave, I went to the old gentleman, and told him that I desired
to go South where I had friends, and where I could get money.
He asked me how much
money I would require for my journey, and
I told him that I thought about six hundred dollars would see me
through.
"Well," said he, "I can
get that for you;" and going out, he soon
returned with the amount, remarking, as he gave it to me, "We
Copperheads can always raise some money for the cause, even if we
have no men."
The old gentleman took
me to the depot in his buggy, and bought
me a ticket for Cincinnati. He also gave me a letter to the head of the
Copperhead ring there. This document I had, however, no use for,
although I accepted it, as I did the six hundred dollars. I had at the
time the sum of ninety-three thousand dollars on my person, and
had in deposit in several banks over fifty thousand dollars. The six
hundred dollars I accepted as a contribution to the cause, and on the
principle that every little helps.
Bidding my aged friend
farewell, I took my seat in the train, and
was soon on my way to Columbus — for I had no intention of going
to Cincinnati. On reaching Columbus, I took rooms at a new hotel
near the depot, and made some inquiries with regard to the
prisoners; but before I could make any definite arrangement
concerning them, I received a telegraphic despatch, directing me to
go to Canada immediately.
A Contribution To The Relief Of The Prisoners.
I, therefore,
contributed three thousand dollars of the money
which I had with me, and which I regarded as Southern property, for
the relief of the prisoners, and for the purchase of necessary
clothing. A Mrs. R. had charge of this prisoners' relief fund, and I
had every confidence that the money in her hands would be properly
bestowed.
Proceeding as rapidly as
I could to Canada, I had a conference
with the agent there, and then hastened to New York. In that city I
found a host of Confederates who were anxiously waiting to receive
their instructions from me. One was to go to Nassau, as supercargo;
another was to sail by the next steamer for Paris, to receive opium
and quinine; a third was to proceed to Missouri; a fourth to the
north-western part of Texas, and so on. Giving each his proportion
of cash for expenses, and telling them whom to draw on in case they
were short, I bade them good by, and wished them success.
These matters being
arranged, I went to see the broker
with whom I was in partnership, and found him considerably
exercised. We had a long talk about the situation, and he expressed
himself as very uneasy about the march Sherman was making
through the Carolinas, and its effect upon the Confederate bonds we
had on hand. I was not as easily frightened as he was; but I could
not help acknowledging that if Sherman succeeded in accomplishing
what he aimed at, it would be bad for the cause of the Confederacy,
and that it would do much to kill the sale of the bonds. I therefore
allowed myself to be persuaded into making a trip to London, for the
purpose of a personal interview with our agent there, the idea being,
without letting him or others see that we were uneasy, to persuade
him to sell off the paper we held at almost any price.
A Visit To London And Paris.
I accordingly proceeded
to London by the next steamer, and on
finding the agent, was soon plunged into business with him.
Confederate bonds were not selling very well just at that time, but as
ours cost us very little, we could afford to dispose of them at very
moderate figures and still make a handsome profit. I put mine on the
market as rapidly as I was able, but before I had cleared out the lot,
intelligence was received that Sherman had established
communication with Grant, and many persons jumped at the
conclusion that this was a virtual end of the rebellion. When this
news was received, I was on a flying visit to Paris. I did not think
that
the end was as near as many persons supposed, but saw very clearly
that there was no market in London just then for Confederate bonds;
and, congratulating myself that I had made out as well as I had, I
posted to Liverpool, and arrived there just in time to catch a steamer.
As we were going into
New York harbor we heard the news of
Lee's surrender, which had taken place the day before, from the
pilot. He was unable to give us any particulars, and every one on the
steamer was consequently in a fever of anxiety to get ashore, and
learn the full extent of the disaster to the Confederate arms. No one
was more anxious than myself, as no one had reason to be, and the
idea that the hitherto invincible army of Virginia — the conquerors in
so many well-fought fields — should at last be compelled to yield to
the enemy fairly stunned me.
Many of the passengers
seemed to think that this was practicallythe winding up of the war. I could not bring myself to believe
this, for I knew that the Confederacy had other armies in the field
who were both able and willing to fight, and who were led by
generals as skilful and as indomitable as Lee. My heart burned hot
within me to continue the fight, and I resolved to stick by my colors
to the last, and to labor with even more than my accustomed zeal for
the Confederacy so long as a shadow of hope remained.
When the vessel reached
the wharf I went ashore, and proceeded
to the Lafarge House, from whence, as soon as I could get some of
the sea rust from my person, I called a carriage, and ordered the
driver to take me, as fast as he could, to the office of the broker in
Wall Street with whom I was in partnership.
Wall Street, New York, After The News Of Lee's Surrender.
Wall Street, especially
in the vicinity of the Exchange, was fairly
packed with a furious, excited mass of human beings, yelling,
shouting, cursing, and not a few absolutely weeping. It was a
spectacle to be remembered; nothing that I had ever beheld — and I
had certainly participated in many exciting scenes — at all resembled it.
Some of the thousands of faces were surcharged with unspeakable
horror; despair, overpowering despair, was written on others; curses
and blasphemies were heard on every side, and it might have been
supposed that all the lunatics in the country had been turned loose in
this narrow thoroughfare.
Any one familiar with
this section of New York, however, could
see at a glance that some momentous event had occurred which had
seriously affected innumerable important financial operations, and
that in a moment great fortunes had been lost and won.
At length we reached the
office I was seeking, and my partner
came out to meet me, and to assist me to alight from the carriage. His
face wore a very sickly smile as he said, "I am glad to see you; you
have made a quick trip."
"Yes," I replied, as we
hurried into the back office. "Regent Street
has no charms for me in such times as these."
"Well," said he, as he
turned the key in the lock of the door, fairly
gasping for breath as he asked the question, and pale as a sheet,
"have we lost?"
"No, we have not exactly
lost, but we have not made anything
worth speaking of."
"Well, so long as we
have not lost, we have done pretty well."
"What is the news?"
"Lee has surrendered,
and the Confederacy has gone up; that is
the whole sum and substance of it."
"But there are other
armies in the field, and they will probably be
able to hold out. It does not follow that the Confederacy is gone up
because Lee has surrendered."
"People about here think
differently; at any rate, the Confederate
bond business is killed."
I did not care to argue
this point with him, as his only interest in
the Confederacy was in what he could make out of it. So I asked,
"Have you got in all the money?"
"Yes," he replied; "but
the bonds have gone up higher than a
kite."
"Well, you bring your
books and make out your statement; we
will have a settlement at once, for I intend to get out of the country
as fast as I am able."
A Settlement of Accounts.
The next day I met him
in accordance with our agreement, and
presented my statement, with a proposition that he should take half
the bonds in my hands, and we stand equal losses.
This he refused point
blank to do, and professed to be highly
indignant that I should make such a proposition.
I then refused to
settle; at which he got very angry, and threatened
to have me arrested, indulging in some strong language, which did
not frighten me a bit; for, apart from the fact that I did not scare
easily, I knew that I had the advantage of him, and that he would not
dare, for his own sake, to carry his threat into execution. I had about
sixty thousand dollars of his money, while he had only about
eighteen thousand of mine, in consequence of which, although he
indulged in a good deal of bluster, he finally consented to settle on
equal terms — share and share alike, both in the profits and the losses.
This matter being arranged, I bade him farewell, glad enough to get
rid of him, and glad to get out of such a business. Such was the end
of my secret banking and brokerage transactions.
CHAPTER XLIV.
THE ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN, AND
END OF THE WAR.
Another Western
Trip. — Delivering Despatches to Quantrell's Courier. — A
Stoppage at Columbus, Ohio. — News of the Assassination of President
Lincoln. — Return to New York. — Derangement of Plans caused by the
Assassination. — I again go West. — Mr. Lincoln's Body lying in State at
Columbus. — Return to Washington, and Interview with Baker. — I meet a
Confederate Officer, and get him to take a Message for me to the
South. — An
aged Admirer. — Colonel Baker proposes that I shall start on an
Expedition in
search of Myself. — A Letter from my Brother, and a Request to meet him
in
New York. — A Determination to visit Europe. — I accept Baker's
Commission,
and start for New York.
S
I did not know, and
certainly did not appreciate
the full extent, or full importance, of the great disaster that had
befallen the Confederate cause, so soon as my business in Wall
Street was brought to a conclusion I sought a conference with the
agents with whom I had been co-operating. They were inclined to
take the gloomiest possible view of the situation. With the fall of
Richmond, and the surrender of Lee's army, the people of the North
seemed to have concluded that the long contest with the South was
over, to all intents and purposes. It was but natural, perhaps, in view
of the intense excitement which prevailed, and the unanimity of
public opinion, that the Confederate agents should have regarded
the future of the contest in a great degree from a Northern
standpoint, and should have been largely influenced by the opinions
which they heard expressed on every side.
I, however, was not
disposed to give up while a Southern soldier
remained in the field, and, after a full discussion of the condition of
affairs, I persuaded my companions to view matters as I did. Richmond
was our capital, but it was not the whole South; and Lee's army,
important
as it was, was far from being the whole Confederate force. General Joe
Johnston had an army of veterans very nearly if not quite as large as
that
of Lee's, and was capable of prolonging the contest for an indefinite
period; while, throughout the West, there were a number of
detached commands, of more or less strength. If these could be
united, and a junction effected with Johnston, or communication
established with him, so that they could act in concert, it would be
possible to keep the Federals at bay for a good while yet. If the fight
was continued resolutely, there was no knowing what might happen
to our advantage; for, as we all knew, the people of the North were
heartily sick of the war, while England and France were impatient to
have it come to an end, and would much prefer to have it end with a
victory for the Confederates.
Having professed an
eager desire to work for the cause so long as
there was a cause to work for, my associates suggested that I should
proceed immediately to Missouri with despatches for Quantrell,
which it was important he should get at the earliest possible moment,
and also for the purpose of consulting with the agents in the West
with regard to the best methods of proceeding in the present
perplexing emergency.
I accepted the mission
without hesitation, and, always ready to
attend to business of this kind at a moment's notice, with scarcely
more than a change of clothing in my travelling satchel, I was soon
speeding westward.
Meeting Quantrell's Courier.
I did not get as far as
Quantrell's headquarters, as I was lucky
enough to meet with one of his couriers, to whom I delivered the
despatches. This man, to whom I was tolerably well known, was very
eager to have me go with him to the general, saying that I could be of
the greatest possible service in the present juncture by acting as his
spy, and as bearer of despatches to the agents in the North. I,
however, was compelled to decline, as I felt that I had more important
work to do in my present field, which it would not do for me to drop.
Having discharged this
errand, I went to Columbus, Ohio, where I
found considerable confusion prevailing on account of the escape
of some prisoners. I took rooms at the Neil House, and had
conferences with several persons concerning the affairs at the
South. At an unusually early hour I retired, being very weary on
account of having travelled, almost
without interruption, for several days, and having lost my sleep the
night before, but feeling rather happy on account of a Confederate
victory of which I had heard.
The Buzzing Of The Telegraph Wires.
I was soon asleep, but
could not have been so very long, before I
was awakened by the continual buzzing of the telegraph wires, which
were attached to the corner of the hotel. I paid but little attention to
this singular noise, and dozed off again. A second time I was
awakened by it, and began to conjecture what could be the matter. I
knew that something very important must have happened, and
thought that the Federals must either have achieved a great victory,
or have met with a great defeat. I was too tired, however, to attempt
any inquiry just then, and, with all sorts of fancies floating in my
mind, as the constant buzzing of the wires, which never ceased for a
moment, sounded in my ears, I dropped off into a sound sleep, and
did not awaken until morning.
I arose quite early, and
going to the window, saw that the whole
front of the building was draped in mourning. Wondering what this
demonstration could mean, and thinking that the death of some
prominent general must have occurred, but never for a moment
suspecting the terrible truth, I made my toilet, and descended to find
out what was the matter.
The Assassination of Lincoln.
A great number of
people, notwithstanding the early hour,
were moving about the hotel, and a considerable crowd was
already assembled in the hall. Still wondering what could
have happened, I asked a gentleman whom I met hurrying
down stairs what was the news, and he told me that President
Lincoln had been assassinated by one J. Wilkes Booth the
night before!
This intelligence
startled me greatly, both on account of the
terrible nature of the crime itself, and because I felt that it could
work
nothing but harm to the South. I also felt for Mr. Lincoln and his
family; for I liked him, and believed that he was an honest and
kind-hearted man, who tried to do his duty, as he understood it, and who
was in every way well disposed towards the South.
Descending to the
drawing-room, I found a large number
of ladies there, many of whom were weeping, while, in the street, the
crowd was increasing, and every one seemed to be in the greatest
excitement. Across the street the State House was being draped in
mourning, while a number of persons already wore mourning
emblems. Before the day was over nearly every one had on some
badge of mourning, and nearly every house was draped, in a greater
or less degree, in black. I did not attempt to imitate my neighbors in
this matter. I was sincerely sorry, both for personal and political
reasons, that this dreadful event had occurred; but, nevertheless, Mr.
Lincoln was the enemy of the cause I loved, and for which I labored,
and it would have been intensely repugnant to my feelings to have
made any outward manifestations of mourning. At the same time it is
possible I may have mourned in my heart with more sincerity than
some of those who were making a greater show of their grief.
This sad event rendered
it necessary that I should have an
immediate conference with my associates in the East, and I therefore
returned as fast as I could to New York, and from thence went on to
Washington.
The assassination of Mr.
Lincoln had caused a derangement of the
plans, and no one knew exactly what had best be done next. I was
requested, however, to make a trip west again, for the purpose of
communicating with certain parties, and accordingly departed on my
last errand in behalf of the Confederacy.
Lincoln's Body Lying In State.
My business being
transacted, I started to return, and again found
it necessary to pass through Columbus. When I arrived there the
body of Mr. Lincoln was lying in state. The town was crowded with
people, and it was impossible to get a room at any of the hotels. I
went to the Neil House, but was obliged to content myself with a bed
on the drawing-room floor, my accommodations being, however, quite
as sumptuous as those of hundreds of others.
I doubt if the little
city ever had so many people in it before, and all
day long a stream of men and women poured in at one door and out
at the other of the apartment where the casket containing the remains
of the president was lying in state. It was a sad sight, and it troubled
me greatly — so greatly that I was scarcely able to eat or sleep; for, in
addition to my natural grief, I could not prevent my mind from
brooding on the possibly detrimental effects which the assassination
would have on the fortunes of the South.
After an early breakfast
the next morning, I took the eastward-bound
train, and returned to Washington, and on reaching that city,
called to see Colonel Baker. We exchanged but a few words, as Baker
said that he had an engagement, which he would be compelled to
attend to immediately, but he would see me at half past seven
o'clock, at my hotel.
Meeting with a Confederate Officer in the Capitol.
Leaving him, I started
off for the purpose of trying to find out
something about Mrs. Surratt and the other prisoners, and their
probable fate. In the Capitol I met a Confederate officer, whom I
knew. I was astonished to see him, and going up, I said, —
"O, what could have
induced you to come here at such a critical
time as this?"
"To see and hear what is
going on," he replied.
"This is an awful
affair."
"Yes; and it is
particularly unfortunate that it should have
happened at this particular time."
"When will you return?"
"To-night, if somebody
less amiable than you are does not
recognize me and take me in charge."
I then asked him if he
would carry a letter through for me to my
brother, and on his promising me that he would, I made an
engagement for him to go to my room in the hotel. He would find the
door unlocked, and the key inside, and I would meet him at five
o'clock, or shortly after. I then took leave of him, bidding him be
careful of himself, as the people were excited and suspicious, and he
might easily get himself into serious trouble.
Returning to the hotel, I
noticed quite a number of ladies in the
drawing-room as I passed by. I thought I would join them, for the
sake of listening to the different conversations that were going on,
thinking that perhaps I might hear something that it would be
advantageous for me to know. On reaching my room, therefore, I
dressed myself in a handsome black gros-grain silk dress, and putting
a gilt band in my hair, descended, and took a seat at one of the
drawing-room windows, facing on Pennsylvania Avenue.
Those around me all
appeared to be discussing the tragedy,
and many absurd theories and speculations were indulged in with
regard to it. I was indignant, as I had been a number of times before,
to hear President Davis, and others of the Confederate leaders,
accused of being the instigators of the crime. I well knew that they
were incapable of anything of the kind; and Mr. Davis, in particular, I
had reason to believe entertained a high respect for Mr. Lincoln, and
most sincerely lamented his death, and especially the manner of it,
feeling that he, and the whole people of the South, would be, to a
greater or less degree, held censurable for something they had
nothing to do with, and which they were powerless to prevent.
A Hotel Acquaintance.
After I had been gazing
out of the window some little time,
watching the crowds of people passing to and fro along the street,
an elderly gentleman came up, and after addressing a few courteous
words, asked if I was a resident of the city.
I replied that I had
arrived only a few hours before from Columbus,
Ohio, but that I was a Cuban.
"Ah, indeed," said he;
and, taking a seat beside me, he
commenced a conversation, by asking, "What do your people think
of our war?"
"O, they think it is
very bad; but it is to be hoped that it is about
over now."
"What do you think of
the assassination of the president?"
"That is much to be
regretted; but you know we Spaniards do not
take such things quite so much to heart as some people."
"It will be a bad thing
for the South, and especially for some of
the Southern leaders; they will be sure to hang Jeff Davis."
I thought that it was
catching before hanging; but, concluding
that, perhaps, it would be best not to put all my thoughts into words,
I merely said, "I scarcely agree with you, sir. Why should one man
die for the deeds of another?"
"O, those Southern
leaders are all corrupt, and they sent Booth
here with instructions to do this deed, for the purpose of enabling
them to carry out some of their schemes; they are a set of fiends,
thieves, and cutthroats, from beginning to end, and there is not an
honest man among them."
This excited my anger
greatly; but, considering that, under the
circumstances, discretion was the better part of valor, I
stifled my feelings, and concluded to cultivate this old gentleman's
acquaintance further, with the idea that perhaps I might be able to
make use of him in the execution of any plans I might have for the
future.
Taking out my watch, I
found that it was half past three o'clock;
so, excusing myself, I went to my room, and put on my hat to go out.
On coming down stairs again, I found my new acquaintance in the
hall, near the ladies' entrance. He asked me if I was going shopping;
and on my replying that I merely proposed to go as far as the
executive mansion, for the sake of a little exercise, he suggested that
I ought to have an escort, and volunteered to accompany me. I
thought this rather an impudent proceeding, considering our very
brief acquaintance; but not knowing what advantage he might be to
me, I accepted his attentions, with apparently the best possible
grace.
Getting into a street
car, we rode as far as the Park, opposite to
the War Department. Taking a seat together under the trees, we
entered into a conversation, which convinced me that the old
gentleman was a harmless eccentric, who had become suddenly
smitten with my charms. He had some very odd notions about
politics, finance, and the like, but from such matters as these he ere
long began to discourse upon my personal attractions, and finally
became quite tenderly demonstrative towards me. I believe the old
gentleman would have asked me to marry him, had I given him the
least encouragement, but I was beginning to find him a nuisance,
and resolved to return to the hotel.
He persisted in going
with me, and when, on reaching the hotel, I
hastily and somewhat impatiently excused myself, for, looking at my
watch, I saw that it was ten minutes past five o'clock, he asked
whether he might escort me to supper. I said that he was very kind,
and to get rid of him, promised that he might have the pleasure of my
company to the evening meal if he desired it. I then bounded up
stairs, anxious to keep my appointment.
When I reached my room
door it was locked, but in a moment
more the key was turned, and, on going in, I found my Confederate
officer waiting for me. He said that some one, after he had been there
a short time, had tried to get in; he had put his foot against the door
to prevent it from being opened; whereupon the person outside had
worked at the lock for a while with a key. I replied, that he need not
be
alarmed, as it was probably one of the chambermaids with clean
towels, and that being unable to obtain admission, she had left them
on the knob of the door.
He told me that he would
be compelled to leave the city at eleven
o'clock, and, as he had several things to attend to, if I wanted to
send anything by him, it would be necessary for me to get it ready at
once. I therefore seated myself to write, but, on a moment's
reflection, came to the conclusion that the risk was too great, as he
was not unlikely to be captured, and determined to give him a verbal
message.
After discussing the
situation with as much fulness as we were
able, with the brief time at our disposal, I went to my trunk, and,
getting an envelope, sealed twenty dollars in it, and handed it to him,
as I knew that he must be short of money. He made some to do
about taking it, but on my insisting, he put it in his pocket, with an
effusion of thanks, and said farewell. I turned the gas in the hall
down until I saw him out of sight, and then prepared myself for my
interview with Colonel Baker.
On reaching the
drawing-room, I found there the old gentleman
who had been so attentive during the afternoon, and who
was apparently waiting for me rather impatiently. We had
scarcely started a conversation, however, before Baker came
in, with a friend of his from Baltimore. I excused myself
with my aged admirer with very little ceremony, and retired
with Baker and his friend to the private parlor, where we
could talk without being disturbed.
Baker has a Proposition to Make.
As we seated ourselves,
Baker said to his friend, "This is one of
the best little detectives in the country, but, unfortunately, she does
not like the business."
"O, the business does
well enough," I replied; "but I don't
like having bad luck in it."
"We can't always have
good luck, you know," said Baker;
"but I have a job on hand now which I want you to undertake for
me, and which I think you can manage if you will do your best. If
you succeed, you shall be paid handsomely."
"O, colonel, you are not
going to hold out the pay as an
inducement for me to serve the country, are you?" I could not say
"my country."
"O, d——n the country;
you don't suppose we are going to
work for it for nothing, do you? I want you to find this woman who is
travelling and figuring as a Confederate agent. Some of my people
have been on her track for a long time, but she is a slippery
customer, and they have never been able to lay hands on her."
I knew it was myself
Baker meant, especially when he took out of
his pocket a picture similar to the one the detective had shown me
on the cars a number of months previous.
Baker continued. "Here
is her picture; you can take it, for I am
having some more struck off. I am going to capture her ladyship this
time, dead certain, if she is in the country, as I believe she is."
My sensations on hearing
Baker utter these words cannot be
described. What could make him so eager to capture me just at this
particular moment? Could he possibly suspect me of having
anything to do with the assassination plot? The very idea of such a
thing made me sick, for I felt that, excited as every one then was, an
accusation of this kind was all but equivalent to a condemnation. I
managed, however, to maintain my composure, but inwardly
resolved that the best thing I could do would be to leave the country
at the earliest possible moment.
After discussing the
method of procedure with regard to the
search I was to institute for myself, I asked Baker what he thought
the result of the trial of the prisoners accused of being implicated in
the assassination plot would be.
"O," said he, "they will
all hang."
"Now, I think that will
be too bad. Even if Mrs. Surratt is proven
to be guilty, they might commute her sentence. It will be a terrible
thing to hang a woman, especially as she was not actually one of
the assassins. Do you really think she is guilty?"
"No; but the affair was
planned in her house, and she is in
a good part responsible for it. I am very much in hope that
a full confession from her will be obtained by her priest."
"But, colonel, the
evidence against her is all circumstantial, and
surely it is not right or lawful to sentence her to death, unless it is
absolutely proven that she is guilty."
"In times like this, it
would never do to acquit her, or to
send her to prison, for the mob would take the law into their
own hands. Besides, it is necessary to make an example."
Baker's friend here
said, "I am glad that they got Booth."
At this remark I scanned
Baker's countenance closely. He
smiled, and said, "So am I. I intended to have his body, dead or alive,
or a mighty good substitute for it, for no common criminal is worth
the reward."
This was a very queer
expression, and it set me to thinking,
and to studying certain phases of Baker's character more
closely than I had ever done before.
The colonel and his
friend then left. I was to have until nine
o'clock the next morning to decide whether I would undertake the
business he desired me to or not.
My Brother Suggests A Trip To Europe.
The next morning, before
Baker came, I received my mail, and in it a
letter from my brother, who expected to be in New York in a few days
with his wife and child. He proposed that, as we were the sole
remnants of our family, we should continue with each other in the
future, and intimating that, considering the present distracted state
of the country, it would, perhaps, be best for us to go to Europe for a
time, until things quieted down somewhat.
This letter decided me
upon what course to pursue, and I
determined to accept the commission from Baker, thinking by so
doing I would more effectually prevent any of his detectives
discovering my identity, while so soon as my brother and his family
arrived, we would proceed across the Atlantic without further delay,
and remain there until the time should come when no one would
have any object in troubling us.
The army of Joe
Johnston, like that of Lee, had been surrendered,
and it was evident to me that the war was practically at an end,
although I thought it not impossible that it might be prolonged in a
desultory manner for some time yet in the West and South-west. I
could plainly see, however, that further fighting would do no good,
and that the Confederate cause being lost, my mission in connection
with it was at an end, and my sole duty now was to consider my own
welfare and that of my family.
All the bright dreams of
four years ago had vanished into
nothingness, and yet I could not regret having played the part
I did. I loved the South and its people with a greater intensity than
ever, while at the same time many of my prejudices against the North
had been beaten down by my intercourse with its people during the
past eighteen months. There were good and bad in both sections,
and I believed that
if the good men and women, both North and South, would now
earnestly and patriotically unite in an endeavor to carry out the ideas
of the founders of the government, they would, ere many years, be
able to raise the nation to a pitch of greatness such as had yet been
scarcely imagined.
As for my own
experiences, if not exactly what I had expected them
to be, they were sufficiently rich and varied in incident to satisfy all
my ambitions. I had participated in bloody battles and sieges, and in
the thickest of the danger had borne myself so valorously as to win
the commendation of men who did not know what fear was, while, in
addition to the campaigning I had gone through, my adventures as a
spy and secret-service agent, were not only of advantage to the
cause I had espoused, but they had supplied me with exciting and
absorbing work which had demanded the best exercise of all my
faculties. I felt that I had reason to be proud of my war record, and
was the better satisfied with myself, as I knew that I had won the
approbation of noble-minded men whose esteem was well worth
winning.
When Colonel Baker
called, therefore, to hear my decision, I told
him that I would undertake to do what he desired. He accordingly
gave me my instructions, and I was astonished to find how much he
knew of some of my movements. He and his men must have been on
the point of capturing me many times, and they undoubtedly would
have done so, had I not had the wit to take the course I did in
cultivating his acquaintance. With many self-congratulations at
having been successful in escaping thus far, and resolved that, if
possible, Baker should not know me except as one of his own agents,
I started for New York on a search for myself ostensibly, but in reality
to wait anxiously for the coming of my brother, in whose company I
proposed to get beyond the reach of the detective corps, with which I
had been so long associated in such a singular manner, with all the
expedition I could manage.
CHAPTER XLV.
A TOUR THROUGH EUROPE.
Off for
Europe. — Seasickness. — An over-attentive Doctor. — Advantages of
knowing more Languages than one. — A young Spaniard in
Love. — Arrival in
London. — Paris and its Sights. — Rheims and the Champagne
Country. — Frankfort on the Main. — A beautiful Country, and a
thriving People. — A Visit
to Poland. — Return to Paris, and meeting with old
Confederates. — Friends who
knew me, and who did not know me. — Finding out what my old Army
Associates thought of me. — Back to London. — A Visit to Hyde
Park, and a
sight of Queen Victoria. — Manchester and its Mills. — Homeward
Bound. —
Return to New York, and Separation from my Brother and his
Family.
T
was not many days
before my brother arrived with his wife,
two children, and nurse. It was a most joyful reunion, and I
tried to be as affectionate as I knew how to my sister-in-law
and the pretty little babes, one of whom was a name-sake of
my own. It was impossible for me, however, to feel towards
her as I did towards my brother, and I fancied that she was
not as well disposed towards me as she might have been.
Once together, our
arrangements were soon made, and we
left New York on board of one of the Cunard steamers. I wondered
what my friend Colonel Baker would think of my disappearance, and
could not help laughing at the neat trick I had played upon him.
Despite the reasons I
had for being glad to find myself speeding
towards a foreign shore, it was not without a pang of regret that I
watched those of America fading in the distance. This, after all, was
my country, where dwelt my friends; here was the scene of the great
events in which I had taken a not altogether unimportant part; and it
was like separating from a portion of myself to sail away from such a
land, and to feel that, probably, I might never return.
Before we had been long
at sea, however, I had something
else to think of than sentimental regrets. Both my brother
and myself were compelled to succumb to seasickness, which,
although it did not affect us as violently as it did some of the other
passengers, was sufficiently unpleasant to absorb all our thoughts.
My sister-in-law, being a hardened traveller, escaped, but the negro
girl, who acted as nurse for the children, was taken very badly, and
between her agony and her fright she was a most ludicrous object.
In a couple of days I
was well enough to enjoy myself; and my
brother, who had made the acquaintance of the doctor, introduced
him to me. This gentleman was a fair-haired Anglo Saxon, and he
appeared to think it incumbent upon him to pay me particular
attention. I was quite willing to cultivate his acquaintance, and he
was so much encouraged by my amiable demeanor towards him, that
he very speedily began to be even unpleasantly polite, and I was
anxious to devise some means of getting rid of him. I did at length
succeed in finding a rival to him in a somewhat odd fashion.
A Couple Of Handsome Spaniards.
Among the passengers
were two quite handsome young
Spaniards, who kept pretty much to themselves, apparently for the
reason that no one was able to talk to them. I noticed that one of them
followed me a good deal with his eyes, and resolved, if a favorable
opportunity offered, to strike up an acquaintance with him.
One morning, after
breakfast, I and my friends came up on deck,
and the doctor, who bad been acting as my escort, excused himself to
go and make his sick calls. The two young Spaniards stood leaning
on the guards, and from the way they looked at me I judged that I was
the subject of their conversation.
Leaving my brother and
his wife, I went and seated myself near
them, but gave no indication that I was noticing them particularly.
They had heard me speak English to my brother and sister, and the
others with whom I had engaged in conversation, and had no reason
to think that I understood any other language.
I had scarcely taken my
seat, when they commenced to talk about
me in Spanish, commenting upon my elegant dress, and the sparkling
diamonds which adorned my person, and expressing a desire to know
who I was. At length one of them said, "O, how I would like to speak
the American language!
She is a handsome
senorita, and evidently very rich; if I could
converse with her I would soon have an introduction."
"Yes," said the other,
"I should like to know who she is."
"O, there is something
the matter with me," said the first, putting
his hand to his breast.
"You are in love. You
had better get somebody to act as interpreter for you."
Just then the doctor
came up and interfered with my amusement.
He said, as he seated himself beside me, "If it is not impertinent,
may I ask how long you have been a widow?"
"About two years," I
replied.
One of the young
Spaniards, who could understand a little
English, said to his companion, "She is a young widow."
"That makes no
difference," said the other.
I said to the doctor, "I
wonder if we can see any fish?" and walked
to the side and looked overboard.
I stood quite close to
Pablo, the young man whom I supposed to
be falling in love with me, and as we turned away, after looking into
the water for a few moments, I dropped my handkerchief on purpose.
The Spaniard picked it
up, and, touching my arm, handed it to me,
raising his sombrero politely as he did so.
I smiled, and thanked
him in his native tongue. It was most
amusing to see the expression of horror that overspread his
countenance as he heard me, and thus discovered that I must have
understood the conversation he had been holding with his friend.
So soon as the doctor
left me, he advanced, and, taking off his hat,
asked me if I was a Spaniard. I replied that I was of Spanish descent;
whereupon he began the most profuse apologies, and hoped that my
ladyship was not offended at the remarks that had passed between
himself and friend. I said that so far from being offended, I felt
highly
complimented by the flattering opinions that had been expressed with
regard to me; and thereupon the young gentleman and I started a
flirtation that lasted for the balance of the voyage, and that, in
addition to being agreeable enough in itself, had the effect of keeping
the doctor somewhat at a distance. He was most solicitous for us to
visit Spain, and was not satisfied until he extorted from my brother a
promise to do so.
This young gentleman
continued his attentions to myself after we
got to London; and on account of some sight-seeing, in which he
had planned to have my company, he and his
friend missed the steamer in which they expected to have sailed for
Spain, and were obliged to remain for a number of days beyond their
appointed time. I do not think that either of them regretted this very
much. I am sure one of them did not. My brother did not like my
friend Pablo, thinking him proud and haughty; but this was merely a
Castilian reserve of manner, and I thought it rather an attractive
characteristic than otherwise.
At length our young
Spaniards left us, and we began to plan our
future movements. My brother was very anxious to go to the
Continent immediately. He did not like the English climate or the
English people, saying that they had always been our enemies, and
that during the late war they had acted treacherously to both parties.
The French, he contended, were the true friends of America, while
their beautiful country was far better worth visiting than this damp,
foggy England.
I had no great
preference, being willing to go almost anywhere,
and consequently, although there was much in England that I desired
to see, acceded to my brother's wishes without hesitation, and
consented to try France first, and to keep England in reserve, to be
explored after we had visited the Continent.
The Naval Depot at Cherbourg.
Crossing the Channel, we
entered France at Cherbourg, the great
naval depot. At this place were several vessels which had been
negotiated for by the Confederates, and which, if they could have
been obtained, would greatly have strengthened our little navy.
Without stopping, however, to examine these, or other objects of
interest, we speeded on to Paris, where we took rooms at the Grand
Hotel.
We were more fortunate
than Mark Twain represents himself to
have been, and were not bothered with guides. My brother had been
educated in Paris, while I had seen a little of it, and we both could
speak French. My brother as well acquainted with the city, and he
was anxious to show his wife and myself all that was worth seeing in
it. We accordingly hired a handsome private livery, and prepared to
enjoy ourselves in the best style.
The magnificence with
which I was surrounded was in great
contrast to what I had been accustomed to in America, and it was
difficult for me to appreciate the fact that I, the elegantly attired
woman, who was enjoying, or endeavoring to enjoy, the
manifold pleasures of Parisian life, had but a short time before been
wearing a uniform of gray, and living the roughest kind of a life in
camp and on the battle-field. I could not honestly say to myself,
however, that I preferred the luxury and splendors of the great
French capital to the woods and fields of my dear South; and I have
had as blissful sleep, wrapped in my soldier's blanket, out under the
stars, as I could get in the most expensive apartments of the Grand
Hotel.
Our days and nights in
Paris were spent in sight-seeing, theatre-going,
and in endeavoring to find all the enjoyment that money could
buy. We did enjoy ourselves; for there is no city in the world that is
better worth seeing, or that presents greater attractions to the
visitor, than Paris.
Sight-Seeing In Paris.
The Louvre, the
Tuileries, the Arc de l'Etoile, the ancient Cathedral
of Notre Dame, with its grand architecture and its many associations,
with a visit to the Jardin de Mabille in the evening, employed our first
day. It was all very interesting, but I could have had greater
satisfaction in investigating into matters that represented more
particularly the industries and resources of the country. As for the
famous Mabille, it is nothing more than a beer-garden, while the
doings that are permitted there and at the Cloiserie de Lilas, are such
that they are not fit places for decent people to visit. I was heartily
disgusted with both of these gardens — disgusted with what I saw,
and more disgusted with people who looked like ladies and
gentlemen, gazing with approval and applause at performances that
had no attractions except their indecency.
A drive on the Bois de
Boulogne, which was on our programme for
the next day, I really enjoyed greatly, as I did also a visit to the
Lyrique Theatre, where I saw finished acting and elegant stage
setting, such as I had never been accustomed to in America. In the
course of our stay in Paris we visited nearly all the principal
theatres;
and although I never was much of a play-goer, everything was done
in such finished style that it was a real gratification to attend these
performances.
The College de France,
where my brother had been educated, and
the Medical School in which he had studied, interested him greatly,
but I was satisfied with looking at them from the outside. I was not
curious, either, to visit the
Catacombs. My brother persuaded me to go to this city of the dead;
but when about to descend into the dark caverns, filled with the
mouldering remains of poor humanity, I shrunk back, and refused to
enter. I had too much reverence for the sleepers to make their last
resting-place a resort for the curious. I feared not the dead; but to
have gone among these skeletons would have revived memories of
the past that were anything but pleasant ones. It made me shudder to
think how many poor souls I had seen launched into eternity without
a moment's warning, some of them, perhaps, by my hand. The idea of
such a thing was horrible, although in the excitement of a great battle
the slaughter that is going on is as little thought of as are the
dangers
to one's self.
The Emperor and Empress.
At the Invalides we saw
the magnificent Tomb of Napoleon I., the
most imposing monument that has, perhaps, ever been erected to any
monarch. As we were leaving, we were gratified with a sight of the
emperor and empress, who were visiting the building. The empress
was a very handsome woman, and looked as if she was a very amiable
one. She was dressed in a silk robe, of a light lavender color, which
was very elaborately trimmed with lace. Her bonnet was of the same
lavender tint, and was trimmed with white. A pair of white kid gloves,
and a point-lace scarf fastened with a brooch of emeralds and
diamonds, completed the toilet. The emperor was in uniform. He was a
rather diminutive man, with a keen eye, and he reminded me not a
little of General Beauregard. Any one who could have seen the two,
would have said, unhesitatingly, that they were relatives.
|
Dôme des Invalides —
Tombeau de Napoléon
Creative Commons License photo by
Thesupermat at Wikipedia
|
Sight-seeing in Paris
was an agreeable enough employment, but I
very soon had enough of it, and was not sorry to leave for Rheims,
the great wine mart. This city is distant between three and four hours
from Paris by the railroad, and is a very interesting place, as well
because of its historical associations, as because it is a great
industrial centre.
The Cathedral of Rheims.
The great cathedral is a
magnificent building, which I took
particular pleasure in visiting, for the reason that in it all the old
kings of France were crowned. It was here that Joan of
Arc, clad in full armor, and with her consecrated banner in hand,
witnessed the coronation of the king for whom she fought so well,
and whose dominion she was mainly instrumental in securing. I
almost imagined, as I stood in the cathedral, that I could behold the
splendid scene that was presented on that occasion.
At the time of my visit
to Rheims, however, I was of a more
practical turn of mind than I had been a few years before. The
romance had been pretty well knocked out of me by the rough
experience of real life; and although I was better able to appreciate
the performances of Joan of Arc at their true value, somehow they
did not interest me to the extent they once did. I took more pleasure
in watching the processes of manufacturing the famous champagne
wines, and in speculating as to whether such a profitable industry
could not be introduced into the United States.
Wine Manufacture.
I have every reason to
believe that wines, as fine in flavor as any
of the European brands, can be, and in time will be, made in America.
They will not be the same, and will have a peculiar flavor of their own;
for the flavors of wines depend upon the soil where the grapes are
grown to such an extent that very different kinds are manufactured
from grapes growing but a short distance from each other. Our
American wines, even if of a somewhat different flavor, ought,
however, to be just as good, in their way, as are the European. The
fact is, that some of our wines will already compare very favorably
with those brought from abroad. We cannot as yet, however, produce
anything equal to the very finest brands; but we will do that in time,
when we learn some of the delicate points about cultivation and
manufacture which the Europeans have been for centuries acquiring.
Vinticulture is a business that is particularly well suited for many
portions of our Southern States, and it is to be hoped that the people
may be induced to take it up much more largely than they have ever
yet done.
In this part of France
it is possible to travel for miles through a
highly-cultivated country and not see the sign of a building of any
kind. The people congregate in small villages, which is certainly more
social than living in isolated farm-houses. The houses in these
villages are mostly small,
are built of stone, and reminded me not a little of some huts in the
Kaw Indian reservation. They are made very attractive, however, by
being surrounded by neat little gardens, filled with flowers, which are
tended with great care.
There was one thing I
saw in Rheims which pleased me very much.
It was a troop of round, rosy-faced girls, who came running,
laughing, and singing, out of a factory, at evening, as full of sport as
if they had been playing all day, instead of earning their bread and
butter. They were so fresh and wholesome-looking, and apparently
enjoyed life so much, that I could not but admire them. Such people
as these are the real wealth of a country, and it is no wonder France is
rich and prosperous when she has such citizens.
Frankfort and Its Surroundings.
From Rheims, we passed
on, and made a flying visit to Homburg,
the famous watering-place, and from there went to Frankfort on the
Main. On one side of the city are to be seen the mountains, while on
the other extends a rich, fertile plain. I almost wished that I was the
wife of one of those good-natured, honest, industrious German
farmers we were constantly meeting, so that I might live and die in a
snug, home-like little farm-house, half hidden by the grain, and
surrounded by flowering shrubs and vines, such as were to be seen
on all sides. Nowhere have I beheld more evidences of solid comfort
and downright good living than in the vicinity of Frankfort, and there
are no people on the earth happier than these hard-working but
contented Germans, who know how to enjoy life in right honest
fashion.
The small villages in
this section of Europe are quite numerous,
and the people are disposed to be most kind and hospitable,
particularly to Americans. We met several persons who had been in
America, who were apparently rejoiced to see us, and who
overwhelmed us with invitations to visit them.
The costumes of the
working classes are very odd. The women
wear muslin caps, short blue or white skirts, and shoes with wooden
soles. The men are attired in blue frocks, and sometimes in the
queerest-looking swallow-tailed coats of white and buff linen.
Some of the parks
surrounding the mansions of the nobility are
very beautiful, being laid out with much taste, and filled
with deer, swans, and other animals. The zooölogical garden in
Frankfort is much the finest in Europe, being greatly superior in the
number and variety of the animals to those of Paris and London.
The Desolation of Poland.
Having exhausted the
sights of Frankfort, we prepared to move on,
and there was considerable debate as to whether we should next go
to Italy or to Russia. I was most anxious to visit Poland; and so it was
finally determined that we should go there. I was sorry for having
taken this trip afterwards, for there was nothing in Cracow — a city
ruined and desolated by war — that could give me pleasure. Indeed, the
whole land looked as if it was under a blight. I took advantage,
however, of the occasion to renew my acquaintance with M.
Koskalosky, a young Pole, whom I had met in Paris just before the
close of the war. He was a very pleasant, cultivated gentleman, and a
sincere friend of the South. I hope that the time will come when the
people of Poland will be able to regain their independence. They are
cruelly oppressed now, and their beautiful country is a waste and
desolation.
Instead of going to
Italy, we now returned to Paris, having seen
much to interest and delight us, but having, after all, found no
country that was the equal of America, towards which my heart
turned with increasing fondness the longer I was absent from it.
In Paris we met Mr.
Dayton, the minister from the United States,
and were quite cordially received by him. I had carefully avoided
going near this gentleman on my former visit, because I was aware
that he knew me, and thought that, perhaps, he might bear me some
ill will. He was pleasant enough, however, and I sincerely regretted
not having met him sooner.
At the Hotel de Louvre,
where we stopped, there was quite a list of
old Confederates, some of whom had been my army companions. I
had the advantage of them, for they had only known me as
Lieutenant Harry T. Buford, and they did not recognize me in female
attire. Being extremely anxious to know what they thought of me, I
obtained introductions to most of them, and began to try and get
them to commit themselves.
Colonel M. was the first
one I spoke to on this delicate subject.
After inquiring about the condition of affairs in America, I asked him
if he knew what had become of that female officer who figured so
extensively during the greater part of the war.
"O," said the colonel,
"I knew her very well. She was in my corps
for a time, but afterwards she went West, and I do not know how she
finished her career."
"What do you think of
her?"
"She is a very fine
woman, and made a good officer. She was very
popular indeed."
"Do you think that it
was proper for a woman to do as she did?"
"Well, no, not exactly;
but she did so much good for the cause,
that she can well be excused. If the men had all been as plucky,
things would have turned out very different. She always bore an
excellent name, and I would fight for her in a moment if I heard any
one traducing her. I would like very much to see her again, and would
be willing to travel all the way back to America to have that
pleasure."
The reader may imagine
the sensations of pleasure which this
enthusiastic opinion of myself caused me. I was aching to tell him
who I was, but there were others whom I desired to question, and so
concluded to preserve my secret a little longer.
While I was talking with
Colonel M., a servant in livery appeared,
with a card on a silver waiter, from Colonel D. and Major C. I did not
recognize the names, but said I would receive them, and so shook
hands with Colonel M., giving him a hearty request to call on me
again.
The two gentlemen
appeared, and the colonel said, "You do not
appear to remember me."
"No, sir," I replied. "I
think I recollect your face, but I cannot
recall where I have met you."
"Do you not recollect
meeting me in Cuba, at So-and-so's
house?"
"O, certainly, I do; I
must ask that you will excuse my
forgetfulness."
"I was looking over the
list of arrivals, and seeing your name,
thought that I would take the liberty of calling to inquire after your
health."
I asked whether he had
met my brother's family; and on his saying
that he had not, I conducted him and his friend to their
parlor. Leaving the major for my brother and his wife to entertain, I
took the colonel to a remote part of the room, and after some
preliminary conversation, asked him the same questions that I had
Colonel M.
He expressed admiration
of my valor, but was so bitter in
denouncing me for assuming male attire, that I was thoroughly
disgusted with him.
A few days after this, I
returned with my brother and family to
London, and immediately on my arrival in that city wrote two letters,
one to Colonel M. and the other to Colonel D., telling them who I was.
Colonel M. replied, expressing great gratification at having met me,
and a wish that I had made known to him that I was the heroine of
whom he had such a decided admiration. Colonel D. did not reply; but
his friend Major C. wrote me a letter in French, in which he
endeavored to apologize for him, and expressed a wish, for his own
sake, that I would return to Paris, as he was anxious to be better
acquainted with a lady who had performed so many valorous exploits.
A Brief Visit to London.
We remained about
fifteen days in London, stopping at the house
of a friend, Mr. T., a right jolly fellow, who had resided in England
for
many years. Shortly after our arrival we visited Hyde Park, a very
beautiful pleasure-ground, but not to be compared with the Parisian
parks. This event was a source of much gratification to me, as it gave
me an opportunity to see her majesty Queen Victoria, who drove by in
a carriage with six horses. For this lady I always had a great
admiration, esteeming her a model queen and a model mother. She
was dressed with great neatness and simplicity, and there was
nothing showy or ostentatious about her.
From London we went to
Manchester, and I was interested in the
great mills and factories, and in a grand cattle show which was in
progress. With the display of fine blooded animals I was especially
delighted. Notwithstanding, however, that there was so much to see
and to occupy my attention, I was by this time getting homesick, and
my eyes were frequently cast longingly westward. I was impatient to
return to America, and my brother was equally so; and consequently,
ere long, we were once more standing on the deck of a vessel
homeward bound, for, after all, it was impossible for us to think of
America but as our home.
Our decision to return,
however, was far from pleasing to my sister-in-law,
who desired to reside in Spain. She blamed me for influencing
my brother contrary to her wishes, and was jealous of my affection for
him. The result was, that a coolness sprang up between us that made
our intercourse with each other anything but a pleasure to either.
On our arrival in New
York, my brother was persuaded by his wife
to go to Mexico, where her sister resided. I was not willing to go with
them; and the result was, that we parted company, with many regrets
on my side, at the prospect of a long separation from a brother whom
I loved dearer than myself, and with whom I had only recently been
reunited, after having scarcely seen each other during many years.
It could not be helped,
however, and I felt that it was best he
should go with his wife and children, leaving me to make my own way
in the world, as I had been doing for so long a time. When they were
once off, I turned my attention to my own affairs, and began to make
plans for the future. Before determining, however, on any particular
course, I concluded that I would make a trip through the South, for
the purpose of observing the condition of the country, and of finding
out whether there was anything I could do to advance the interest of
the people among whom my lot had been cast for so many years, and
who were endeared to me by so many of the strongest ties.
CHAPTER XLVI.
SOUTH AMERICAN EXPEDITION.
A Southern Tour. — Visit
to Baltimore and Washington. — The Desolations
of War as Visible in Richmond, Columbia, and Charlotte. — A Race with a
Federal Officer at Charleston. — Meeting with old Friends
at Atlanta. — A Surprise for one of them. — Travelling over my old
Campaigning Ground. — The forlorn Appearance of Things in New
Orleans. — Emigration Projects. — I make some Investigation into them, and
decide to go to South America for the Purpose of looking at the
Country, and reporting to my Friends. — The Venezuelan Expedition and its
Projector. — I suspect that it is a mere Speculation, but conclude to
accompany it. — My third Marriage. — I endeavor to persuade my Husband to
seek a Home in the Far-West, but on his Refusal, sail with
him for Venezuela. — Forty-nine Persons packed in a small Schooner, with
no
Conveniences, and with scanty Provisions. — A horrible Voyage. — Sighting
the
Mouth of the River Orinoco.
FTER
the departure of
my brother and his family,
I started for the South. My first stopping-place was
Baltimore, where I met many old
friends, who expressed themselves as very glad
to see me again, but who represented the condition of
things at the South as most deplorable.
What I learned from them made me more than ever
resolved to continue my journey; for, although the
war was over, I was still anxious to do something, so
far as my power extended, for the Southern people. I accordingly
announced my intention of making a tour through
the late Confederacy, for the purpose of seeing for myself
exactly what the situation really was; but preferred first to
go to Washington, with a view of consulting certain persons
there.
I was advised, in the
strongest manner, not to visit Washington at
this time, and was assured that it would be a very perilous thing to
do. Naturally a little obstinate and self-willed, the opposition of my
friends only made me the more desirous of carrying out my original
intention, no matter what
the hazard might be. To Washington, accordingly, I proceeded, and
called on some acquaintances, who received me with the utmost
cordiality.
The person whom I
particularly wished to see — an official in the war
department — had, however, gone South. My friend Colonel Baker was
also out of the city. I did not know whether to congratulate myself or
not at missing a meeting with him. I was resolved, on going to
Washington, not to fight shy of him, and to give him an opportunity
to pay off old scores if he wished. Baker was certainly the person of
all others who had a right to have a grudge against me, and yet I had
an ardent desire to meet him again, just to hear what he would have to
say about the tricks I so successfully played upon him. As the colonel
was out of the city, however, I did not have the pleasure of
exchanging notes with him, and I do not know to this day whether he
ever discovered that I was a Confederate secret-service agent.
Finding that there was
nothing to be done in Washington, I went
on to Richmond, where I took up my quarters at the Exchange Hotel.
The news of my arrival soon spread around, and I received ample
attentions from many old Confederate friends, who seemed disposed
to treat me with all possible kindness.
Richmond after the War.
The Richmond I beheld,
however, was a very different place from
the beautiful city I had visited for the first time in the summer of
1861,
just before the batte of Bull Run. A four years' siege, ending in a fire
which had consumed a large portion of the city, had destroyed its
beauty as well as its prosperity, while the inhabitants wore such
forlorn faces that I felt sick at heart at beholding them.
I hastened away,
therefore, and passed through Charlotte,
North Carolina, and Columbia, South Carolina, where the same dismal
changes were visible. Charleston was badly battered and burned, but
was not in quite as bad a plight as the other places named. The finest
portion of the city was destroyed, however, and it looked very
desolate.
I went to the Charleston
Hotel, where I met an old friend from
Columbia, who invited me to accompany him and some others on an
excursion. His married daughter, and several intimate acquaintances,
who were of the party, were introduced to me, among them a Yankee
captain, who had married
a fair daughter of South Carolina, who, with all her relatives, were
strong secessionists.
This officer attached himself particularly to me, and urged me to
give my views about the war, and the present condition of affairs, in
the way of an argument with him. We accordingly had a very
animated conversation for some time, and he was obliged, finally, to
retire from the contest, saying, that he could not quarrel with me as I
was a lady, and, moreover, had everybody on my side. I did not think
him a very brilliant genius, but he was quite a good fellow in his way,
and to show that there were no hard feelings between us, we shook
hands, and declared ourselves friends.
The next day one of the
officers had the audacity to call on me
simply out of curiosity. He had heard about my serving in the
Confederate army in male attire, and he wished to see what kind of a
looking woman I was. I thought it a rather impudent proceeding, but
concluded to gratify him. I accordingly walked into the drawing-room
where he was, and after some little conversation, which was
conducted with considerable coolness on my side, he invited me to
take a ride with him.
I was astounded that he
should make such a proposition, knowing
who I was, and I being where I was, surrounded by the friends of the
cause I had served, while he, of course, expected to figure in his
Federal uniform by my side.
I scarcely knew what to
say; but finally told him that I could not go,
as I had an engagement. This, however, was a mere pretence, and was
intended to gain time for consultation with my friends. Some of these,
however, suggested that I should accept the invitation, and give him
a genuine specimen of my abilities as a horsewoman.
A Trial Of Equestrian Skill.
I accordingly went to
every livery stable in the city, until I at length
found a very swift horse, that I thought would suit my purpose. This
being secured, I wrote a challenge for him to ride a race with me. We
were to ride down the main street. He, without being aware of what
was on foot, accepted; and the next afternoon, therefore, we
mounted our steeds and started. When we arrived at the appointed
place, I said, "Let us show these people what good equestrians we
are."
He gave his horse a
lash, but I reined mine in, telling him that I
would give him twenty feet. When he had this distance, I gave my
steed a cut with the whip, and flew past my cavalier like the wind,
saying, loud enough for every one to hear me, "This is the way we
caught you at Blackburn's Ford and Bull Run."
This was enough for him;
and turning his horse, he rode back to
the hotel, to find that a large party there were interested in the race,
and that there were some heavy bets on the result, the odds being all
against him. This gentleman, apparently, did not desire to continue his
acquaintance with me, for I saw no more of him.
A few days after this
occurrence I said farewell to my Charleston
friends, and went to Atlanta, were I was very warmly received. The
surgeons who had been attached to the hospital, and many others,
called, and a disposition to show me every attention was manifested
on all sides.
The Federal General
Wallace and his staff were stopping at the
same hotel as myself, as was also Captain B., one of the officers whom
I had met in Washington, and whom I had used for the purpose of
getting acquainted, and of furthering my plans in that city. I met this
gentleman in the hall, and passed friendly greetings with him, and
shortly after he came into the parlor for the purpose of having a
friendly chat. The captain, up to this time, had never suspected in the
least that I was not, and had not been, an adherent of the Federal
cause; and not supposing that I had any special interest in the war,
our conversation turned chiefly upon other topics. I knew that he
must shortly be undeceived, but I did not care to tell him about the
part I had taken in the contest, or the advantages I had taken of his
acquaintance with me.
Undeceived.
While we were talking,
Confederate General G. T. Anderson came
in, and called me "Lieutenant." The astonishment of the captain was
ludicrous. He could not understand what the general meant at first,
and thought it was a joke. The truth, however, came out at last, and he
learned not only that I was a rebel, but that when I met him in
Washington I was endeavoring to gain information for the
Confederates.
The captain, being somewhat bewildered, took his departure soon
after, and at the invitation of General Anderson, I
went out to visit the intrenchments. When we got back, I found that
General Wallace had been informed as to who I was, and that he
was anxious to see me. I said that I would be very glad to meet him;
and the general, and a number of his officers, accordingly came into
the parlor to see me. General Wallace was very pleasant; and, as we
shook hands, he complimented me, with much heartiness, upon
having played a difficult part so long and so well, and with having
distinguished myself by my valor. I thanked him very sincerely for his
good opinion of me, and then fell into a lively conversation with him
and his officers.
One of the officers
asked me to ride with him; but I begged to be
excused, as I did not think it would look well, especially in Atlanta,
where everybody knew me, to be seen riding out with an escort
wearing a Federal uniform. He understood and appreciated my
feelings on the subject, and said no more about it.
The next evening I
started for New Orleans, and passed over a
good deal of my old campaigning ground before I reached my
destination.
My journey through the
South had disclosed a pitiable state of
things. The men of intellect, and the true representatives of Southern
interests, were disfranchised and impoverished, while the management
of affairs was in the hands of ignorant negroes, just relieved from
slavery, and white "carpet-baggers," who had come to prey upon the
desolation of the country. On every side were ruin and poverty; on
every side disgust of the present, and despair of the future. The
people, many of them, absolutely did not know what to do; and it is
no wonder, that at this dismal time, certain ill-advised emigration
schemes found countenance with those who saw no hope for
themselves or their children but either to go out of the country, or to
remove so far away from their old homes that they would be able to
start life anew under better auspices than were then possible within
the limits of the late Confederacy.
The Desolation of New Orleans.
New Orleans, once a
great, wealthy, and populous city, was in a
pitiful plight. The pedestal of Jackson's statue, in the public square,
was disfigured by inscriptions such as those who erected it never
intended should go there, which were cut during the occupancy of
the Federal army, while the once
pretty flower-beds were now nothing but masses of weeds and dead
stalks.
Along the levee matters
were even worse. Instead of forests of
masts, or the innumerable chimneys of the steamboats, belching forth
volumes of smoke, or huge barricades of cotton, sugar, and other
produce, or thousands of drays, carts, and other vehicles, such as
thronged the levee in olden times, the wharves were now silent, and
served merely as promenades for motley groups of poor men, women,
and children, who looked as if they did not know where the next meal
was to come from.
The desolation of the
great city sickened me, and I was the more
indignant at what I saw, for I knew that this general prostration of
business, and impoverishment of all classes, was not one of the
legitimate results of warfare, but that ambitious and unscrupulous
politicians were making use of the forlorn condition of the South for
the furtherance of their own bad ends.
I longed to quit the
scene of so much misery, and fully
sympathized with those who preferred to fly from the country of their
birth, and to seek homes in other lands, rather than to remain and be
victimized, as they were being, by the wretches who had usurped all
control of the affairs of the late rebel states.
Flying from the Country.
Taking advantage of the
condition of mind and pocket which a
great many people were in, a number of emigration schemes were
started, most of them, I am confident, by swindlers. Many persons
were so anxious to get away, that they did not exercise even common
prudence in investigating the facilities that were offered them, and
the result was, that they did much worse than if they had remained.
The sufferings endured by some of these emigrants cannot be
estimated, and the story of their attempts to find homes for
themselves and their children in some land where they could live in
peace and quietness, and enjoy the fruits of their labor without fear
of being plundered, is one of the saddest and dreariest pages in the
history of the country.
I was much interested in
these emigration schemes when I first
heard of them, and was extremely anxious to investigate them, for my
own sake as well as for that of my suffering fellow-country people of
the South. Venezuela was one of
the countries which it was proposed to colonize, and representations
were made, to the effect that the Venezuelan government would
extend a cordial welcome to emigrants, and would aid them in
establishing themselves.
I consulted with a
number of wise and prudent men with regard to
this Venezuelan project, but did not get much encouragement from
them. They said that they would prefer to see the country for
themselves, and to find out exactly what the government was willing
to do, before they would care to invest any money. They thought
that the country was rich and fertile, but that many of the reports
about it were palpably exaggerations, having been gotten up in the
interests of speculators. It would consequently not be a prudent
thing for any one to emigrate there, unless some trustworthy person
should undertake to go and see what was to be seen, for the purpose
of making a strictly truthful report.
I Propose to Visit Venezuela.
I accordingly informed
my friends that I would go and see for
myself, and would certainly bring back such an account as could be
relied upon.
It having been announced
that I intended to go to Venezuela, I was
called upon at the City Hotel, where I had my quarters, by Captain
Fred. A. Johnston, who was fitting out an expedition. He gave me a
most glowing account of the country, describing it as a perfect
paradise, although I speedily judged, from his conversation, that he
knew nothing about it, except from hearsay.
I had no difficulty in
reading Captain Johnston's character, and
what I saw of him subsequently only confirmed my first impressions.
He was a nervous, excitable man, with more bombast than true
enterprise. He was anxious to make money, and to make it very quick,
and was consequently not particularly scrupulous about the means.
He had a tolerably good education, but was not smart enough to put
it to good use, and he was always engaged in some wild speculation
or other, but never could accomplish anything. He was a plausible
man, however, and a good talker, and, considering how many people
felt at the time, it was no wonder a number were deceived by him.
After a long
conversation with Johnston, I made up my mind to go
with him, and in the mean time secretly advised
my friends not to put any money in his or any other expedition until
they heard from me. I was visited by a number of persons, who, on
being informed that I proposed to go with Johnston's expedition, said,
in effect, "We will depend upon the report you make as to the climate
and the country, for we have families to support, and we do not want
to run the risk of going to a foreign land, about which we know
absolutely nothing." I promised to make a faithful report, and took
care to say nothing to Johnston, or others interested in the manner he
was, about what my intentions were, or about my discouraging other
people from emigrating.
Preparations For The Voyage.
I commenced making my
preparations, and Johnston, who was
apparently beginning to consider me a valuable ally, came and invited
me to go over to Algiers, across the river from New Orleans, with him,
for the purpose of meeting the others who were going. I found a
number of proposed emigrants at Algiers, who were waiting for the
vessel which was to convey them to their new homes. They all
seemed to be in a cheerful mood, and well satisfied at the prospect of
speedily getting away from a land where there was so much suffering.
A meeting was called for
the purpose of consultation with
regard to chartering a vessel and arranging for supplies, and
Johnston greatly desired me to deliver an address. This I declined to
do; but I took occasion to say, that while it might be well enough for
single men to engage in an enterprise of this kind, it was, in my
opinion, rather too risky a thing for those who had families
dependent upon them.
After my return to the
city I reviewed the situation in my mind more
clearly than I had hitherto done. I was becoming less and less
satisfied with the way things looked, and could not help asking
myself, Why should I make any attempt to leave the country I had
fought for, and give it up to the carpet-baggers and negroes? or why
should I interest myself in such an enterprise as this one of
Johnston's, merely for the purpose of gaining information for people
whose duty it was to look out for themselves? I called, in my
perplexity, on an old gentleman who had been a good deal in
California, and asked his opinion of the Pacific slope, and of the
advisability of those who wished to emigrate from the South going
there.
He said that there was
not a country in the world equal to California,
and it would be vastly better for those who wanted to find new
homes to find them there, or in some other portion of the far west,
rather than to go to South America. As for Johnston, he said that he
would not take his own family to Venezuela until he had looked at the
country himself, and it was doubtful whether he would then.
The poor people whom
Johnston had enlisted in his scheme,
however, had their hearts set upon going to Venezuela, and nowhere
else; and though my heart ached at the disappointment, and perhaps
severe suffering that was in store for them, I saw that it was useless
to attempt to turn them from their purpose. They had their new homes
all pictured in their imaginations, and Venezuela appeared to them like
a second Garden of Eden, where all was peace, happiness, and
prosperity, with no free negroes or carpet-baggers to intrude upon
them.
Many of this band of
emigrants were most estimable people; but,
as I speedily discovered, there were some worthless ones among
them, and I dreaded, more and more, the execution of the task I had
set myself to do. Having, however, announced my intention of going,
and having excited the expectations of my friends, I concluded that it
would not do to back out, and so determined to go through with the
thing, no matter what the consequences might be.
Among the emigrants who
had enlisted in Johnston's band was a
young Confederate officer, Major Wasson. He was a remarkably
fine-looking
man, with long, wavy, flaxen hair, which he wore brushed off
his forehead, blue eyes, and fair complexion. The day before going
over to Algiers with Johnston I had seen him on one of the street cars,
and was very much struck with him. At Algiers I had some
conversation with him, and invited him to call on me at the hotel. This
he did; and I discovered that he was a stranger to all the rest of the
band of emigrants, that he was anxious to get out of the country, and
that, attracted by Johnston's representations, he had resolved to go
to Venezuela with his expedition.
After that I saw a great
deal of Major Wasson, and a strong
attachment sprang up between us. A few days before we were to sail,
he asked me to accept his hand, and I did so willingly; for not only
did I admire him greatly, but I felt that it would be better in every
way
that I should accompany the expedition as a married woman.
We were accordingly
married, and for some days kept the matter
secret, it being our original intention not to say anything about it
until after we were out at sea. As I was, however, pursued by the
attentions of several other gentlemen, we finally concluded that the
fact of our being husband and wife had best be announced.
A small schooner was
finally procured, and preparations for our
departure were pushed rapidly forward. Just as we were on the point
of sailing, however, the owners of the vessel, who had not received
their money for her, attempted to regain possession. We were all
arrested, therefore, but after a long investigation of the case, were
released, and the schooner delivered into our hands. This was a
disagreeable and discouraging commencement, but it would have
been well for the entire party had it been the worst misadventure that
befell us.
As the time for
departure drew near, I lost confidence in Johnston
more and more, and almost at the last moment endeavored to
persuade my husband to refrain from embarking, suggesting that we
should seek a home somewhere in the West. He, however, was
resolved to go, and I yielded my better judgment to his wishes, and
went aboard, very much against my inclination.
Sailing Of The Expedition.
The expedition consisted
of forty-nine persons, including children,
all of whom were stowed away in the hull of a small schooner, without
regard to decency, and without many of the necessities of life. I did
not find out how badly provided we were for a voyage until after we
were at sea; but when I did discover what treatment was in store for
us, I was boiling with indignation. There were no conveniences of
any kind; scarcely provisions enough to sustain life; the water was
foul, from the impure barrels in which it had been placed; while the
conduct of some of the persons on board was an outrage on the very
name of decency. Our diet was beans and hard tack for breakfast, the
same for dinner, with the addition of duff for dessert; and this bill of
fare was repeated, day after day, until we entered the River Orinoco.
It was a terrible
voyage; and, although I had passed through some
rather rough experiences in my time, and was accustomed to hardships,
it will always live in my memory as
one of my most painful experiences. My sufferings, however, were
nothing in comparison with those of some of the poor women and
children who were with us, and I was indignant, beyond expression,
at the idea of their being victimized in the manner they were.
At length, after a
cruise that, brief as it was, was fast becoming
intolerable, we entered the mouth of the Orinoco, and the despairing
band of emigrants began to pluck up their spirits, for now they were
fairly in sight of the paradise which had been promised them.
CHAPTER XLVII.
VENEZUELA.
Taking a Pilot on
Board. — A perplexing Predicament. — Beautiful Scenery
along the Orinoco. — Negro Officials. — Disgust of some of the
Emigrants. —
Frightened Natives. — Arrival at the City of Bolivar. — The United States
Consul
ashamed of the Expedition. — Death of my Husband. — Another Expedition
makes its Appearance. — Sufferings of the Emigrants. — I write a Letter to
my
Friends in New Orleans warning them not to come to Venezuela. — Rival
Lovers. — I conclude that I have had enough of Matrimony, and encourage
neither of them. — A Trip by Sea to La Guayra and Caraccas. — I prepare to
leave. — What I learned in Venezuela. — The Resources of the Country.
HE
sight of the
promised land, of which such
glowing accounts had been given them, filled
our company with extravagant joy. Alas, they
little knew what was yet in store for them; but
the prospect of being able to leave the wretched
little schooner was such a pleasant one, that they
scarcely thought of the future, and almost any fate seemed
preferable to remaining on board of her.
We had not been in the
neighborhood of the mouth of the river
long before a small, light canoe put out towards us, and its occupant,
bailing us in Spanish, asked whether we did not want a pilot.
I was the only person on
board who understood him, and as he
came alongside the captain refused to let him come on board. Some of
the men, thinking that he had hostile intentions, produced their
pistols, and for a time there was a prospect of trouble.
I accordingly went to
Johnston, and said, "Now, Captain
Johnston, you are in a nice fix. This man is a pilot, and you cannot go
up the river without his assistance. If you attempt anything of the
kind you will be considered a pirate."
This frightened
Johnston, and I laughed in my sleeve to see the
perplexity he was in. After leaving him to his reflections for a few
moments, I said, in a whisper, "This man is a
government pilot, and your vessel and crew are in imminent danger. It
won't do to trifle with these Spaniards, I can tell you, for if you do,
they will make short work of the whole party."
Johnston saw the point,
and telling the captain of the schooner
who the man was, he was permitted to come on board. The arrival of
the pilot created quite a commotion, and no little surprise was
expressed at the fact of his being a negro. The man, however,
understood his business, and managed the vessel very skilfully.
Without his assistance we would never have been able to have
ascended the beautiful Orinoco, or have steered the schooner among
the numerous islands.
Going up the Orinoco River.
The scenery along the
river was truly beautiful, and all admitted
that, whatever else the country might be, it was certainly fair to look
upon. I had not much confidence, however, that, on closer
inspection, it would prove to be the earthly paradise we were
searching for, but kept my thoughts to myself, for I knew that there
would not be much use in expressing them.
The first village we
came to was Coraeppa, where we took on board
another pilot, Antonio Silva by name. He was a bright colored
half-breed,
and, like the negro, was skilful in his business. When he
boarded us, the captain exclaimed in disgust, "Good Lord, are all the
officials in this country niggers?" A good many of the emigrants
were quite as much disgusted as the captain, and seemed to think
that if the negroes were of as much importance as they seemed to be
in Venezuela, it would have been just as well to have remained at
home and fought the battle for supremacy with the free negroes and
carpet-baggers on familiar ground.
That night we anchored
at Baranco, with a great uncertainty before
us as to whether we would be permitted to proceed any farther or not.
At this place I caught the first fish, which was a grateful addition to
our bill of fare. Some of our people went in bathing, — a performance
which astonished the natives, who were afraid to venture into the
water on account of the alligators, which abounded in rather startling
profusion. Others obtained permission to go on shore, and created a
sensation by doing so. The ignorant natives, who had no idea who
we were, promptly abandoned their houses, and, leaving everything
behind them, fled to the forests.
They imagined that we
were a band of pirates, who were coming to
take possession of the country.
A messenger was now
despatched to the city of Bolivar to notify
the governor of our coming, and, with considerable uncertainty as to
the reception we were likely to meet with, the next morning we
resumed our slow progress up the river.
At Los Tablos we were
commanded to stop, and a most primitive
piece of artillery was pointed at us, which excited some derision in my
breast, but which appeared to inspire terror in that of Captain
Johnston, for be was in much agitation lest the authorities on shore
should take a notion to fire on us.
We Reach the City of Bolivar.
After some parley,
however, we were permitted to pass on to the
city of Bolivar unmolested. On arriving off that place, the order was
given that nobody should go ashore, much to the dissatisfaction of
every one, for there was not a man, woman, or child on the steamer
but was anxious to leave her at the earliest practicable moment.
After a time, the United
States consul, Mr. Dalton, boarded us. He
denied being the consul when my husband spoke to him, and said
that he was heartily ashamed of such a shabby expedition. In spite of
his denial, however, I knew that he was the consul, and determined to
demand his assistance in case it should be necessary.
I now resolved to land
and look out for myself, and appealed to my
husband to come with me, saying that I had money enough about me
for all our present needs, although the other members of the
expedition were not aware of the fact, and that I could draw more, if it
should be wanted, through the consul.
My husband, however,
refused to go, and said that he would stick
by the expedition to the last. I suggested that they would be far from
sticking to him in case he was left destitute, and, thoroughly
disgusted with the whole business, I left the schooner and went to
the hotel.
At the hotel I met
several very nice people, with whom I was soon on
friendly terms, and was rejoiced to find myself once more in
reasonably comfortable quarters, after what I had gone through with.
The hotel was kept by a German, who had married a Venezuelan
woman, and it was very well managed.
Once on shore, and free
to do as I pleased, I proceeded to carry out
the purpose I had in view when I started. I called on the consul, and
explained matters to him, and through him obtained an introduction
to the governor and his family. By all the persons I met I was well
received, and a general desire was shown to give me such information
as I needed with regard to the country, and the inducements which it
might hold out for emigrants from the United States.
While I was thus
employing myself on shore my husband stuck to
the schooner. Finally, however, he too became so much disgusted
that he concluded to take my advice, and abandon Johnston and his
whole enterprise. In a day or two he left, and started for the gold
mines, to find that the black fever was raging there to such an extent
that it was dangerous for him to remain. He therefore returned, and
went to Caraccas, where, shortly after his arrival, he was taken ill
with
the black vomit and died.
Inspecting the Country.
I remained in the city
of Bolivar for several months, making
occasional excursions into the country in the neighborhood, and
going up the River Orinoco as far as San Fernando. My object was to
find out all I could about the natural resources and climate of
Venezuela, for the purpose of advising my friends in New Orleans;
and through the kind assistance of my Venezuelan acquaintances,
who interested themselves greatly in my labors, and aided me by
every means in their power, I was, ere long, in possession of ample
information to enable me to form an opinion as to the desirability of
people from the United States seeking new homes in this part of the
world.
The expedition, of which
I was a member, was followed, not a great
while after, by another one of equally shabby character, under the
charge of a Dr. Price. This was made up of poor families, who had
scarcely anything with them which would have enabled them to start
farming, or business of any kind, in a strange land. These people
were sent on shore by Price, who immediately slipped away, and left
them to their fate, not caring what became of them.
It was an outrage, which
cannot be denounced in too strong
terms to take these poor people out to Venezuela without
capital, and without any means of support; and no punishment
I can think of would have been too severe for the men who did the
deed.
As for the emigrants,
they were indignant at the treatment they
had received, and having nobody else at hand to vent their
grievances upon, fell to blaming the United States consul and the
Venezuelan authorities. They would not acknowledge the consul, and
some of them abused him in the grossest manner. This made him
powerless to act for them. I interested myself as much as I could in
behalf of such as were disposed to be tractable, and succeeded,
through the consul's influence, in procuring passage back to the
United States for several of the unfortunates. The rest scattered over
the country; some of them died, some found precarious employment
of one kind or another, and some tried to make their way home again.
I Advise My Friends In The United States To Remain At
Home.
After the arrival of
Price's expedition, I considered it my duty to
communicate with my friends in New Orleans, without more delay, for
the purpose of warning them, and all others who were disposed to
emigrate, not to think of doing anything of the kind. I accordingly
wrote a letter advising those who thought of emigrating to
Venezuela, to let it alone, and denouncing Johnston and Price for
holding out inducements to poor and ignorant people which they had
no assurance whatever would be realized. I said that it would be
useless for any persons from the States to come to Venezuela
without plenty of capital to carry on any such operations as they
might engage in, and that if they did come they would have to submit
to the laws of the country, and take their chances with its citizens.
One great objection to any emigration schemes, however, was the
instability of the government, and the fact that Venezuela had no
national credit. The Governor of Bolivar said that Venezuela would be
glad to have industrious people come to it from the United States, or
any other country, and that facilities would be afforded for them to
take up lands at low rates, but he had no supplies to give half-starved
men and women who might be landed within his jurisdiction, and was
anxious that no one should come under any misapprehensions as to
what reception they would be likely to have on their arrival.
I stated the facts
within my knowledge plainly, and reviewed
the situation in such terms that there could be no misunderstanding
of my meaning, and before sending my letter, had it countersigned by
the governor, his brother, the consul, and a number of Americans who
were in the city.
Social Pleasures of Bolivar.
This duty having been
performed, I felt free to enjoy myself, and
having by this time quite a large circle of acquaintances, I found very
little difficulty in the way of having a good time.
Two young gentlemen,
Señor Sayal and Señor Rodriguez, both
became very attentive to me, and very jealous of each other, and very
jealous also of Major G., a gentleman whom I esteemed very highly. I
was afraid at one time that Sayal and Rodriguez would have a serious
difficulty, and perhaps kill each other; the last named, especially, was
very violent, and declared that any man who stood in his way should
die. As for myself, the party chiefly interested, I cared nothing for
either of them, except in the way of friendship, and had no intentions
of marrying again. My matrimonial experiences hitherto had been so
unfortunate, that I came to the conclusion I had better live single, and
travel about to see the world, relying upon myself for protection.
While residing in
Bolivar I conformed to all the customs of the
place, and endeavored to see all that was worth seeing. A number of
families welcomed me most cordially to their homes, and in company
with my friends of both sexes, I went on several pleasant excursions.
It was quite a popular custom to go up the river, on a Sunday
morning, to Marichal or San Rafael, to bathe. At these places there
were regular bathing grounds, resorted to by the people of Bolivar,
and the washer-women also went there to do their work. The method
of washing clothes was peculiar; they would be thrown over
smooth stones, and beaten with sticks while drenched with water. This
process, it is scarcely necessary to say, is terribly destructive to the
clothing.
The city of Bolivar is a
very beautiful place. It is built on the brow
of a hill, overlooking the River Orinoco, on one side, and a lagoon on
the other. Behind the city are the Marichal Mountains, in which gold
is to be found, but scarcely in paying quantities.
The people of Bolivar
are hospitable and agreeable in their
manners, and those with whom I became acquainted did all
they could to make my time pass pleasantly. I attended several
fandangos with Señor Sayal and Señor Rodriguez, as well as other
entertainments.
After having resided in
Bolivar for several months, I concluded to
visit other portions of the country, and accordingly made a trip
around by sea to La Guyra, and from thence to Caraccas. To my great
surprise Rodriguez came after me by the next steamer, and began to be
more attentive than ever. He introduced me to his relatives who
resided in the neighborhood of Caraccas, and appeared to be resolved
to make sure of me, now that he had his rivals at a distance. I,
however, gave him very little encouragement, although, had I felt
anxious to marry again, I perhaps would have done well to have been
more gracious to him. He was one of twelve sons, and his parents
were very wealthy, owning immense estates and large herds of cattle,
which must have yielded them a great income.
Farewell to Venezuela.
With this visit to
Caraccas concluded my Venezuelan experiences,
for, notwithstanding the assiduous attentions of Señor Rodriguez, I
could not be persuaded to remain, and made my preparations to
return to the United States. Taking passage on a schooner bound for
Demerara, in British Guiana, I said adieu to my Venezuelan friends,
having made up my mind that my own country was the best to live in
after all, and that in it thereafter I would seek my fortune. My
Venezuelan trip, however, was, notwithstanding the ungracious
auspicies under which it was commenced, a source of gratification to
me. It made me acquainted with a portion of the world that was well
worth looking at, and it was the means of bringing me in friendly
relations with a number of excellent people, for whom I shall always
have a warm regard, and to whom I shall always feel indebted for
many unsolicited kindnesses.
The personal
gratifications which the trip afforded me amply
repaid me for all the expense and trouble I was put to in making it;
but,
beyond this, I have the satisfaction of knowing, that by
accompanying Captain Johnston's expedition as I did, and under the
peculiar circumstances I did, I was the means of preventing a great
number of persons in the Southern states from being swindled by
speculators who, taking
advantage of the unsettling condition of the South after the war, and
the discontent of a large portion of the people, were endeavoring,
without proper means or facilities for carrying out their proposed
objects, to organize colonization parties to go to various places in
South America.
My experiences in
Venezuela convinced me that it was no
place for poor Americans to go to. For people who had capital,
and the skill and energy to use it properly, it held out
many inducements, but no more and no greater than were held
out by the Western portions of our own country.
Venezuela and its Products.
Portions of Venezuela
are very beautiful, and the scenery along the
banks of the Orinoco, especially, is lovely in the extreme. The country
is, much of it, fertile, and its mineral wealth is very great, but it is
undeveloped, and those who attempt its development will be
tolerably certain to have a hard time of it, and to expend a great deal
of money before they get much return, either for their cash or labor.
Apart from everything else, the climate is very trying, especially to
strangers; and this of itself is a good and sufficient reason why
residents of the United States would do well to tempt fortune
elsewhere.
Along the banks of the
Orinoco and its tributaries the vegetation is
most luxuriant, and all kinds of tropical fruits abound in the greatest
profusion. The forests contain mahogany, lignum-vitæ, and the
chinchona tree, from which quinine is made. In the interior are to be
found the Caoutchouc or India-rubber tree, and half a dozen varieties
of the cotton tree. Some of the latter are, I think, especially worthy
of
the attention of those who are interested in cotton-growing, and with
proper cultivation they might be made to yield far more valuable
results than they do. Tobacco grows wild, and is cultivated to some
extent, but the natives, although they are inveterate consumers of the
weed, do not understand how to cure it properly[.]
The diet of the
Venezuelans is largely made up of fruits, of which
they have a great variety, such as the banana, of which there are half
a dozen different kinds, cocoanuts, figs, mangoes, manzanas de oro,
or golden apples, marma apples, guavas, oranges, grapes, and
pomegranates. The melons are very plentiful, and, although small, are
sweet and well flavored.
Sugar is made to some
extent from the cane, which bears a strong
resemblance to the maple sugar of the United States. Yams and sweet
potatoes are very abundant, and there is a hardy species of cabbage
which grows on the edges of marshes, and which sometimes attains a
height of eighteen or twenty feet. The calabashes grow to an
enormous size, and are used for carrying water. The onions are
numerous, but small.
The flowers grow in
great profusion, and are very beautiful. The
mariposa attains to the height of the oleander, and has gorgeous
white and scarlet blossoms. The zueco is a bright little plant, and is
very fragrant. The people of Venezuela are exceedingly fond of
flowers, and always have a great number of them about their
dwellings.
The birds of Venezuela,
for the most part, are of very rich plumage.
There are several varieties of parrots, of which the macaw, and the
green and gray parrots, are the talkers. The paroquets are very
diminutive, and are beautiful little birds. The cock of the rocks, which
is the color of the redbird of the United States, is easily
domesticated;
it has a ruffle of feathers about an inch in length, which encircles its
neck from the wings to the beak. The ayax is a bird that is heard last
in
the evening and first in the morning; it has a very peculiar cry, and
the
natives are exceedingly superstitious about it, thinking that should
they kill it some misfortune is certain to happen to them.
The lizards and other
reptiles are too numerous for description. In
the huts of the poorer classes, lizards, scorpions, roaches, and other
live stock live on the most intimate terms with the human inhabitants,
and do not appear to interfere very materially with their comfort.
The forests and jungles
are filled with panthers, jaguars, and
South American tigers. The last named are very ferocious, and the
natives stand in great fear of them.
The People and Government of Venezuela.
The people of Venezuela
are very superstitious, and are
exceedingly particular about their religious observances. In their
manners they are courteous and unaffected, and some of their
household ways are very primitive. Their meat is cured in strips, and
their corn is ground between two stones, the under one of which is
hollowed out to some extent. This kind of work is chiefly done by the
women. The men make
hammocks out of grass, bark, and cotton, and themselves
in the cultivation of the ground, and in the care of
live stock and the pursuit of game. In the summer time the
hammocks are swung out in the open air between two trees,
or in rude huts with no sides to them. The milk of the ass is
preferred to that of the cow or goat. Most of the cooking is
done in earthenware jars or pipkins. Earthenware jars, of a
peculiar make, are also used for keeping water for drinking
purposes in.
The principal exports of
Venezuela are cattle, hides, tallow,
and coffee from the La Guayra and Maracaybo districts. The
United States consul at Bolivar, while I was there, was
interested to some extent in gold mining. The quartz was brought
from the Caratol mountains, nearly two hundred miles distant,
on the backs of donkeys, and was purchased by the consul
from the natives with merchandise. Having obtained the
quartz, he crushed it, and extracted the metal, which was
forwarded to the mint in Philadelphia. The mineral wealth
of Venezuela is very great; gold, silver, copper, and tin
abounding in large quantities. The mines, however, are, for
the most part, far distant from the commercial centres, and
are very inefficiently worked. It would pay capitalists to go
into the mining business in Venezuela if they could get some
railroads built, or even if they could get some good common
roads made.
The country away from
the seaboard or the watercourses is thinly
settled, and there is not likely to be any great increase in the
population until the facilities for easy travelling are much greater
than
they are, or were at the time of my visit. The roads to the mines are
mere paths, not larger than cattle trails.
The natives in the
interior suffer many hardships and privations,
and any one going to Venezuela without ample capital, must expect to
do the same. One great source of annoyance to the country people is
the jigger, — a species of worm which buries itself in the feet,
generally
under the skin near the toe-nails. It is very painful under any
circumstances, and it not infrequently causes the loss of the toes.
As in nearly all of the
South American states, the government of
Venezuela is very unsettled; and the schemings of ambitious
politicians, who are ready at any moment to resort to arms for the
accomplishment of their ends, render both life and property to some
extent insecure. To be sure, the
revolutions which occur there from time to time do not, as a rule, cause
any great amount of bloodshed, notwithstanding the commotions they
make, but they have the effect of leaving a sense of insecurity on the
public mind, and of preventing improvement which otherwise might be
made. The white people are, for the most part, well educated and
intelligent, but they do not appear to understand the art of
self-government;
while the negroes, Indians, and half-breeds seem to be
incapable of doing anything to advance their own condition, or to
promote the interests of the country. With such a heterogeneous
population as resides within its borders, and with the educated whites
so greatly in the minority as they are, there is not much prospect of
Venezuela speedily attaining the position her agricultural and
mineral resources would seem to entitle her to.
CHAPTER XLVIII.
DEMERARA, TRINIDAD, BARBADOES, AND ST. LUCIA.
From Venezuela to
Demerara. — The Hotels of Georgetown, Demerara. — The
United States Consul at Georgetown. — A Visit to a Coffee Plantation. — A
Cooly murders his Wife. — Excitement in the Streets of Georgetown. — The
Products of Demerara. — Fort Spain, Trinidad. — A very dirty Town. —
Bridgetown, Barbadoes. — Having a good Time among old Friends. —
A Drive to Speightstown. — St. Lucia. — The old Homestead. —
Reminiscences of Childhood. — The Past, the Present, and the Future. — The
Family Burying-ground.
HE
schooner Isabel, in
which I sailed for Demerara, had a rather
unsavory cargo in the shape of cattle; but being an
experienced traveller, and accustomed to roughing it, I did
not permit myself to be annoyed by my surroundings; and as
the weather was fine, I greatly enjoyed this brief cruise along
the tropical South American coast.
There were two lady
passengers besides myself, whose
companionship I found very agreeable; and I had with me a number of
pets, whose capers and gambols afforded all on board much
amusement. These pets were two monkeys, a young South American
tiger, two parrots, and a dozen paroquets. One of the monkeys was
named Bob Lee, while the tiger was called Joe Johnston. One of our
chief diversions was to get up contests between these animals over
their meals. The monkey, being of more mature age and of superior
cunning, almost invariably got the better of his antagonist, although
the tiger would make a good fight. This tiger was very tame and very
gentle, and be liked nothing better than to be taken in my lap and
petted.
On landing at
Georgetown, we were beset by negroes,
offering us sapadillos for sale; but, disregarding them, I bade
adieu to my travelling companions, and went to the Prince of
Wales Hotel, and asked for accommodation. The sapadillo, I
may remark here, is a small fruit, shaped something like a pear;
the skin is roughish, and the flesh inside is of a maroon color, and
rather tart to the taste. The Prince of Wales Hotel was kept by a
negro; on discovering which, I was rather dubious about stopping
there. The captain of the schooner told me that there was another
hotel kept by white people; but, on inspecting it, I concluded that it
would be wise for me to take up my quarters at the African
establishment.
The hostess of the
Prince of Wales Hotel was a mulatto woman, of
about forty-five years of age. She was quite good-looking, and had
been the wife of an English sea captain, by whom she had two
daughters. Her husband was dead, and one of her daughters was
married to a white man, who was extensively engaged in coffee-growing.
This woman was very intelligent herself, and she had taken
pains to have her children carefully educated. As a hotel keeper, she
was much above the average; and during my stay in her house, she
did every thing possible to make me comfortable.
The captain of the
schooner introduced me to a number of
prominent people in Georgetown, and I went of my own accord to call
on the United States consul. This official was a German by birth, and
he was engaged in making a collection of animals for the Zoölogical
Garden of Frankfort-on-the-Main. His wife, a very pleasant woman,
took a great deal of interest in his pursuits, and devoted a large
portion of her time to the care of the numerous pets, in the way of
monkeys, dogs, cats, and squirrels, with which the house abounded.
A Contribution for my Relief.
Among the persons with
whom I became acquainted was an officer
belonging to a United States man-of-war which was lying in the
harbor. This gentleman, hearing that I was one of a party of emigrants
from the States, and was on my way back, supposed that I must be in
destitute circumstances. He accordingly represented my case in such
a way, on board his ship, that a considerable sum of money was raised
for me, and the commander of the vessel called at the hotel to give it
to me, and to offer me such other aid as he was able to bestow. The
consul, when he heard of this occurrence, was much annoyed that I
had not informed him that I was in want of money, in order that he
might have assisted me. I had some trouble in making these good
gentlemen understand my real position. They were very indignant
over the story I told with regard to the manner in which people in the
Southern States had been deluded into emigrating to Venezuela, and
other portions of South America, and promised to use their influence
to check the schemes of such men as Johnston and Price.
Having expressed a
desire to proceed on my journey north-ward,
the consul introduced me to the captain of a vessel which was shortly
to sail for Barbadoes, and I arranged with him for a passage.
While waiting for the
vessel to sail, I made a trip into the
country, to visit the coffee plantation of Mr. Waite, the husband
of my landlady's daughter. When we reached the
plantation, we found everybody there in considerable excitement
over a murder that had just been committed. A cooly who
was jealous, had, it appeared, cut the throat of his wife, her
crime being that she had looked at another man. Mr.
Waite assured me that there was nothing strange about such
an occurrence a this, and that such outrages were happening constantly.
Much Ado about Nothing.
On our return to
Georgetown, we found that place in a commotion.
The people were rushing about the streets, yelling at the tops of their
voices, and making a terrible to do. I supposed, of course, that it was
another murder, but was informed that the excitement was caused by
the pound-master making a raid on the goats, which were permitted to
roam about the streets contrary to law. These goats being the chief
means of support of many of the poor people, their arrest by the
pound-master was, from a South American point of view, a very much
more serious matter than the murder of a cooly woman.
Another sensation was
shortly after caused by a fellow from New
Jersey absconding with a large sum of money. He had started some
kind of speculation, and had induced a number of people to invest
their means. Having secured a good round sum, he quietly slipped
away, carrying the cash with him. There was, of course, an immense
amount of indignation among the sufferers. One of the victims, an old
Scotchman, gave me a most pitiful recital of the manner in which he
bad been swindled. I, however, gave him but little comfort, and told
him I thought he deserved to lose his money, for nothaving more wit than to trust it in the hands of such a transparent
rogue as this fellow appeared to be.
During my visit to Mr.
Waite's coffee plantation, and during other
excursions I made to the interior, I had excellent opportunities
afforded me for seeing the country in the vicinity of Georgetown, and
of obtaining information concerning it.
The Vegetables and Animals of Demerara.
Like Venezuela, this
portion of Demerara is very beautiful to the
eye, and is very rich in products of the soil. The palm trees grow to a
great size, and are useful in innumerable ways. The adobe, or mud
huts of the poorer classes, are invariably thatched with palm leaves,
interwoven with cane, and plastered with mud. This kind of a roof has
merits, but it also has some disadvantages, not the least of which is,
that it affords an admirable habitation for ants, lizards, snakes,
roaches, scorpions, and spiders, of all colors and sizes. The people,
however, do not appear to mind this vermin, and it has seemed to me
that they rather enjoyed sharing their habitations with the venomous
reptiles and insects. Of the fibres of the palm are made various kinds
of cordage, nets, hammocks, lassos, mats, and many household
conveniences.
There are a number of
different kinds of cactus, some of which
grow to a great height. The fruit of the scarlet variety is made into a
kind of preserve, which is pleasant eating, resembling in flavor that
made from the crab-apple. From this fruit, also, an agreeable drink is
prepared, which is very refreshing.
From the candle tree,
the natives, at certain seasons, extract the
sap by making incisions in the bark. This sap, which is oily in its
nature, is caught in earthen bowls, and after it solidifies, — which it
does very rapidly on being exposed to the air, — is made into candles.
The milk tree is treated
in the same manner. The juice, when it is
first extracted, is thin and watery, like that of the grape vine. After
standing for a short time it thickens, and becomes of the color of
goat's milk. When it is in this condition the natives drink it, and are
exceedingly fond of it. If permitted to stand a sufficient time, the
milk
solidifies to the consistency of thick jelly, and then twists of cotton
are dipped in it, and are used for candles.
The guaca is a powerful
antidote for poisons, and is used
to cure the wounds caused by the bite of snakes and insects. It is
also said to be an antidote for the virus of a mad dog. The odor is
very peculiar, but not unpleasant.
The tamarind trees grow
to a large size; their fruit greatly
resembles the bean of the honey locust of the United States. The
tamarind beans, when preserved, make a cooling beverage, by being
soaked in water, which is useful in the sick-chamber, especially in
fever cases.
The pili is used for the
manufacture of ropes, cordage, and sacks,
and I think would make good paper. Of the divi, cart wheels are made.
The nutmeg trees grow luxuriantly without cultivation. These are only
a few of the vegetable products of Demerara, but they will suffice to
give the reader a general idea with regard to the products of the soil.
The snakes of Demerara
are of all sizes, kinds, and colors. One of
the most curious is a small snake, which is spotted with twelve
different colors; these are chiefly found lodged in the branches of the
bamboo. They are said to be harmless; other varieties, however, are
exceedingly venomous.
There is a species of
red ant, which builds its habitations up in the
forks of the trees, where they look almost like the prairie dog villages
of our western country. The houses are made of mud, which is
collected into a ball, and then pushed up the tree by the insect, with
infinite labor.
The birds of Demerara
are as numerous and as gorgeous in their
plumage as those of Venezuela. The parrots of all kinds, especially,
abound in immense numbers. While I was at Georgetown, my friend,
Captain M., shot at some parrots who were in a mango tree feeding on
the fruit, and wounded one, which fell and lodged in the fork of two
limbs, making such a pitiful cry that he had not the heart to shoot
again. The mate of this wounded bird attended to its wants with
infinite care, bringing it food and water for several days, until it
died.
The last day water was brought every hour; and when at length the
sick bird died, the mate uttered a most human-like cry of sorrow and
despair. The parrots of all kinds go in couples, and like the pigeons,
they migrate in the rainy season.
The humming-birds appear
to be quite as numerous, while
there are even more varieties of them than there are of the
parrots. They are beautiful little creatures, and I never
became tired of watching their motions. Like the parrots, these tiny
birds seemed to be gifted with extraordinary intelligence.
My vessel being at
length ready, I sailed for Barbadoes, by way
of Trinidad. The weather was very rough for a couple of days, and as a
consequence I was terribly sea-sick. I however recovered before we
reached Port Spain, and having a tremendous appetite, I made sad
havoc between meals with the captain's sweetmeats, sardines, and
crackers. He was a whole-souled, jolly sort of a man, who, in
consideration
of my being his only lady passenger, paid me particular
attention, and placed his private larder at my disposal.
When we reached Port
Spain, the chief town of the Island of
Trinidad, the captain said that we would have to remain there about
eight hours, and that I and the other passengers had better step
ashore and see the place. We accordingly strolled about the town
until it was time for the vessel to leave, but were not impressed with
its beauty. It was a very dingy-looking settlement, with a very ragged
and dirty native population. There were a few Englishmen, but the
majority of the people were negroes or half-breeds, whose
habitations were disgustingly dirty and squalid.
I was not sorry to get
away from Port Spain, although if there had
been time I would have taken pleasure in exploring the interior of
Trinidad, and especially in visiting the famous pitch lake, in the
south-western portion of the island.
A quick run brought us
to Bridgetown, Barbadoes, where I felt at
home, having visited the place on blockade-running business during
the war, and having a number of acquaintances residing there, who, I
anticipated, would be glad to see me for the sake of old times. I was
not disappointed, for, on taking up my quarters at the Prince Albert
Hotel, I soon fell in with friends, who welcomed me as heartily as I
could have desired, and who exerted themselves to make my visit in
all respects a most enjoyable one.
Hospitalities of Barbadoes.
The day after my
arrival, Captain F., of Liverpool, came with
a handsome carriage and pair, and invited me to drive out with
him and some other friends, on a tour of inspection of the points
of interest on the island. We went first to the barracks, to
see a drill of the British troops stationed there, and afterwards
drove to Speightstown, over a broad road lined with cocoanut
trees, which presented a truly magnificent appearance. These
graceful trees are extensively used in Barbadoes for dividing
the farms instead of fences or hedges, and the use which is made of
them adds greatly to the attractiveness of the landscape. On our way,
we stopped at two dairy farms, and I obtained some good
buttermilk, a beverage of which I am very fond. My companions,
however, did not take kindly to it, and in true British fashion
quenched their thirst with ale and beer. This trip to the interior was a
delightful one in every respect, the country being very beautiful, and
I enjoyed it greatly; more, perhaps, than I otherwise would, on
account of having just made a sea voyage.
On returning to
Bridgetown, the whole party of us were
invited to dine with a wealthy American gentleman, who had
just arrived by the steamer, and who was on a visit to a number
of the West India Islands. He was very much interested in my
account of South America, and of my experience
there, and agreed most heartily with me that it was the worst
kind of folly for people to emigrate to Venezuela, or any other
of the South American states, unless they had ample capital;
even with ample capital, he thought that they could do better
at home, despite the unsettled condition of affairs incident to
the late war.
Captain F., having been
informed of my intention of sailing by the
next steamer, and of stopping at St. Lucia, for the purpose of visiting
the home of my early childhood, regretted that he would see so little
of me, as his vessel was to leave the next day. I was sorry too, for he
was a very agreeable man, and professed to have a very high opinion
of me on account of my services in behalf of the Confederacy. Being
unable to show me more attention himself, the captain brought a
number of his Barbadoes lady friends to see me, and kindly
commended me to their consideration. He then said that as he
would pass St. Lucia before the mail steamer in which I intended to
take passage would reach there, he would scarcely be likely to see me
again, and so wished me a safe journey back to the States, and all
manner of good luck in the future.
Three days after his
departure my steamer was ready to start, and I
said good by to my Barbadoes friends with real regret, for they had
been most kind to me, and had fairly overwhelmed me with their
attentions. Being bent upon visiting my relatives and my early home,
I purchased a ticket permitting me to stop at St. Lucia until the next
steamer, and after a short and pleasant cruise, which was not marked
by any incident of note, we reached the island which was endeared to
me as being my mother's birth-place, and on account of my
residence on it, being among the most fascinating recollections
of my childhood.
As I was preparing to
leave the steamer, I was surprised by the steward bringing
me a beautiful basket filled with different kinds of fruit. A card which
accompanied it told me that it was from Captain F., who had been
obliged to stop at St. Lucia for repairs, having broken a mast. On
going on shore, I sent the captain a note, requesting him to call on me
at the residence of my cousin, the old family homestead. This he did,
and I introduced him to my relatives. His visit was a short one,
however, as his vessel was almost ready for sea, and so he said good
by again, and for the last time. I have never seen him since.
My Childhood's Home.
It was not without a
certain feeling of sadness and strangeness
that I found myself once more domiciled in the old-fashioned stone
house where I had lived with my father and mother, and brothers, and
sisters, when a little girl. The house and its surroundings were much
the same as they were many years before, and yet there was
something oddly unfamiliar about them, and it took me some time to
reconcile my recollections with the realities. The stone house, built in
the English fashion, the marble floor, the ancient furniture of Spanish
make, the stone water-pool and stone filter, and the
banana and prune bushes which grew at my mother's window,
were, however, all as they had been, and as if I had left them
but yesterday.
In gazing on these
familiar objects, I was forced, in spite of myself,
to think of the many years that had passed since I had last seen them,
and of the many things that had happened. The happy family that
had gathered under this roof had been scattered, and most of its
members were dead; while I, the darling of my father and of my gentle
mother, what a strange career I had gone through — stranger far than
that of many a heroine of romance whose adventures had fascinated
my girlish fancy! I was yet, too, a young woman, and what strange
things might not the future have in store for me? It was
enough, however, just then to think of the past and of present,
without perplexing myself with speculations as to the future; and I
gave myself up to such enjoyment as a visit of
this kind to a fondly remmembered home of childhood was able to
afford.
After viewing the old
house and its immediate surroundings, I went
to the family burying-ground in search of the weather-stained vault,
which contained the earthly remains of near and dear relatives, among
others, of a sister and a brother, whose faces I never beheld after I
left
Cuba to go to New Orleans to school. The ivy and the myrtle grew so
thick about it as almost to hide the inscription; and yet there was
something beautiful in the appearance of the spot, which marked it as
the fitting resting-place for the beloved dead. As I stood by this
vault,
and thought how lonely I was in the world, and how unpropitious the
future seemed, I thought that if it could be the will of God that my
spirit should be taken to himself, I would gladly have my body rest
here beside those of my brother and sister. I was reluctant to leave the
place, but felt impelled to go on and seek the destiny that awaited me
in another land, and resolved to be as courageous as ever in meeting
whatever fate or position the future might have in store for me. Before
leaving the tomb I knelt down to pluck some ivy leaves, to carry away
as remembrances, but as I stretched out my hand to gather them,
something restrained me, and I went away empty-handed as I had
come.
I remained in the old
homestead, enjoying the hospitality of my
cousins, until the arrival of the steamer, and then said farewell to St.
Lucia — my visit to it having been the happiest episode of my journey.
CHAPTER XLIX.
ST. THOMAS AND CUBA.
St. Thomas. — A cordial
Welcome. — A reception at the Hotel. — Points of
Interest at St. Thomas. — The Escape of the Florida. — Santiago de Cuba. —
Hospitalities. — Havana. — Visits from my Relatives. — Courtesies from
Spanish
Officials and Others. — I take part in a Procession, attired as a Spanish
Officer. — General Mansana taken sick. — A Steamer in the Harbor with
Emigrants from the United States on Board bound for Para. — I endeavor to
persuade them to return. — Death of General Mansana. — I start for New
York.
ROM
St. Lucia I went to
the Danish Island of St.
Thomas, where one of my friends of the war time, to
whom I had written announcing my intention of
revisiting the place, was expecting my arrival. When
we entered the harbor, the passenger boat, which
was to take us ashore, came off to the steamer, and as she neared,
I recognized my friend. I waved my handkerchief
to him, and he took off his hat, and when the boat
came alongside he sprang on board, and shook me most
cordially by the hand, expressing, as he did so, the greatest
gratification at seeing me again.
When we reached the
wharf I met another of my old war
acquaintances, the Italian consul. He, also, was glad to see me, and
asked me all manner of questions about where I had been, and what I
had been doing since the blockade-running business had come to a
stand-still. I walked between my two friends up to the hotel, where I
found that a fine large room had been engaged for me, and, once
fairly installed in it, the visitors came pouring in, one after the
other;
first, the proprietor and his wife, then the Danish commandant's wife,
then half a
dozen others, until I was obliged to go into the drawing-room and
hold a regular reception.
Nowhere during my trip
had I been welcomed with a more hearty
and sincere courtesy, or with a more evident disposition
to make a heroine of me. All through the evening people were
coming in, some of them acquaintances, who, having heard of my
arrival, were anxious to extend a welcome; and others, strangers, who
had learned something of my adventurous career, were desirous of
being introduced to me. One of the most agreeable of my visitors was
Mr. English, the correspondent of a newspaper in Manchester,
England. He was a fine dashing young fellow, overflowing with wit
and humor, and his lively conversation created a great deal of
entertainment.
During the evening some
of the company amused themselves with
dominos, others with cards, while I was surrounded constantly by
quite a little crowd of persons who persisted in having me relate to
them some of my adventures. After a time wine, ale, and cakes were
brought in, and the gentlemen, and some of the ladies, too, regaled
themselves with cigars and cigarettes. It was nearly twelve o'clock
when the Italian consul, a white haired old gentleman, arose, and
asking to be excused, wished us good night. As I was tired I followed
him, asking my kind friends to excuse me, and so the party broke up.
I slept late the next
morning, and was awakened by a tap at my
door. It was Mrs. Captain B., who wished to know if I was sick. I said
that I was quite well; whereat she smiled, and said she would send me
a cup of chocolate. The girl soon came with the chocolate, and after
drinking it, I dressed myself and went down to the drawing-room. As I
passed the consul's office, he came out and gave me a "good
morning," and offered me his arm to take me in to breakfast.
After breakfast, I was
joined in the drawing-room by quite a large
party of ladies and gentlemen, who proposed that I should go with
them through the fort, and up to the top of the hill to see the scenery.
Things to Be Seen at St. Thomas.
The town of Charlotte is
built on three hills, from the summits of
which beautiful views of the harbor and the island are obtained. One
of the features of the scene is a rock, called Frenchman's Cap. It is
almost perpendicular, and is, I believe, considered dangerous to
shipping. Scorpion Rock is inhabited only by the horrid reptiles from
which it takes its name. They are unusually abundant there, and for
that reason it is generally
given a wide berth, as no one cares to make its intimate
acquaintance.
The principal
fortifications of St. Thomas are Fort Christiana, and
Prince Federick's and Mohlenfel's batteries. These are occupied by a
small force of Danish soldiers, who are clean and tidy looking, but
otherwise are not remarkable in appearance.
It was under the guns of
Fort Christiana that the blockade-runners
were accustomed to receive their cargoes; and, notwithstanding the
supposed vigilance of the United States fleet, most of them managed
to get off in safety. On my former visit to St. Thomas, one of the
Federal officers was pointed out to me as being in the trade himself.
On one occasion, at least, where the consul notified him, he permitted
a vessel, with a contraband cargo, to put to sea, and did not pretend
to give chase until she was so far away that there was no hope of
overtaking her.
As the reader will,
perhaps, remember, on the occasion of my
previous visit to St. Thomas, I had the satisfaction of seeing the
Confederate cruiser Florida come in, and coal, and get away again in
safety, through a clever trick played upon the Federals. The Florida
took in her coal and supplies at the King's wharf, and when she was
ready for sea, one of the sailors, pretending to be an Englishman,
went to the consul, Mr. Smith, and told him, that as they were coming
in they saw the Florida off to the westward of the island. Mr. Smith,
accordingly, gave orders to the Federal man-of-war to go out and
look for her, and so soon as the Federal cruiser was out of the harbor,
and heading westward, Captain Maffitt, having steam up, put on all
speed and went out after her. Before the Federal commander
discovered that he had been duped, the Florida was out of sight and
out of danger.
The Danish commandant
told me that he was heartily sorry the war
closed so soon, for the people of St. Thomas profited greatly by it.
He was of the opinion that could the South have held out for another
year, the great powers of Europe would have interfered in her behalf,
and she would have secured her independence.
Through the exertions of
my friends to make my visit to St. Thomas
a pleasant one, the time passed rapidly, and when the arrival of the
steamer Pelyo gave me warning that I must prepare for my departure, I
would gladly have prolonged my stay for a number of days more, had
it been possible to do so.
The time of leave-taking
was come, however, and I was escorted on
board the steamer by quite a large party, many of whom, as I said
good by, eagerly requested me to correspond with them, and to keep
them posted about my movements; as they expected that I would
scarcely be satisfied unless I undertook some strange adventures.
The steamer stopped at
Porto Rico, but I did not go on shore, not
liking the looks of the place. We only remained for a few hours to take
in some freight and passengers, and then were off to sea again.
Among the passengers was a young Spanish officer, Captain F.
Martinez, whom I had met before, and who knew that I had served in
the Confederate army. He came up to me, and gave an officer's salute,
at which I laughed, and held out my hand to him, saying that the time
for that sort of thing had passed. We then fell into an animated
conversation about the war, and other matters; and during the rest of
the trip he paid me every attention in his power.
As we were promenading
the deck together in the evening, he
informed me that he was engaged to a young lady in Santiago de
Cuba, and he was very solicitous that I should stop there and see
her. I was not unwilling, as I had relations residing near the city
whom I was anxious to visit; and so I made arrangements for a return
to another of the homes of my childhood.
A Visit to Santiago de Cuba.
When we reached
Santiago, I called with Captain Martinez upon
his betrothed, and was much pleased to see that he had made so
excellent a choice. The young lady was very pretty and amiable, and
belonged to a wealthy family.
Having notified my
cousin, who was married to a Prussian
gentleman, of my arrival, I went out to her home, about ten miles in
the country, and remained a day or two with her.
In the city I was waited
upon by many distinguished people, and
was invited to dine at the mansion of the general in command of the
Spanish forces. At this dinner my health was proposed, with some
complimentary remarks, at which honor I was immensely flattered;
and after it was over, the company adjourned to the grand plaza, to
listen to the military band, and to see the beauty and fashion of
Santiago.
Santiago de Cuba is a
very old town, and it has an extensive
commerce. The chief exports are coffee, sugar, cigars,
and fruit. The harbor is a fine one, and during the war it was a
favorite
resort for blockade-runners.
The day after the dinner
at the general's mansion, I went on board
the steamer and started for Havana. That city was reached in due
time, and once more I found myself on familiar ground, and among
friends who were ready to extend me a hearty welcome for the sake of
old times.
My brother's family and
other relatives resided outside of the walls.
I sent them word of my arrival, but did not go to the house, on
account of differences with my sister-in-law. During my stay in
Havana my brother visited me frequently, as did also my niece, — my
sister's daughter, — and my nephew, who acted as my escort to the
theatre and other places.
In addition to my
relatives, I had many acquaintances in Havana
who were glad to extend the hospitalities of the place to me. Among
others, General Juaquin Mansana, and the officers of his staff, were
all warm friends of mine, and they seemed never to tire of paying me
attentions. I was also acquainted with a great number of people with
whom I had had confidential business relations during the war; and
they, too, did what they could to make the time pass pleasantly.
Once More in Male Attire.
Shortly after I reached
Havana, there was a grand religious festival,
and, at the suggestion of General Mansana, I consented to appear in
the procession in uniform. The general, enjoining me to keep the
matter a secret, presented me with a handsome Spanish military suit. I
attired myself in this, and arranging my disguise so that my most
intimate friends would not know me, I took my place in the procession
in a carriage beside Colonel Montero, which drove just behind that of
the general.
The colonel especially
requested me not to let the other officers
and soldiers know who I was, as there might be some excitement
created if any one suspected that a woman, disguised as an officer,
was in the procession. I accordingly kept my secret, and was not
recognized. During the day I several times passed quite close to Mr.
Savage, the United States consul, and the members of his staff, and
it amused the general greatly to see that they had not the slightest
suspicion as to who I was. I was also introduced to a number of
ladies is a young Spanish officer, who had been educated in England.
This plea was put in on
my behalf, because my Spanish accent was
none of the best, my long non-use of the language having caused
me to lose the faculty of speaking it in such a manner as to do entire
credit to my ancestry.
This procession took
place on Friday, and General Mansana, as we
were about starting out, told me that there was a steamer in the
harbor with some emigrants on board, who were going to
South America. He asked me if I would not see them, and, by relating
my experiences, try and persuade them to return home again. This I
promised to do.
In the evening, after
the ceremonies were over, we went to the
theatre, where we found quite a brilliant audience assembled. Before
the performance was over, General Mansana said that he was hungry,
and retired. The rest of the party remained until the curtain fell, when
we went to a restaurant and had supper. After supper we drove to the
Plaza do Armas, where a room had been assigned me in the palace,
and I changed my costume as rapidly as I could, appearing once more
in female attire.
Illness of General Mansana.
As I was coming out,
Colonel Montero met me in the hall, and said
that the general had been taken quite sick. I asked if I could see him;
and on a messenger being sent, word was conveyed to the colonel
that the general wished to speak with him. He soon returned, and
invited me to go into the sick chamber. The general was in bed, and
the doctor was in attendance on him. He complained of severe
cramps, but did not think that anything serious was the matter, and
invited me to call on him the next morning, when he expected to be
better.
After breakfast, the
next morning, I went to the general's quarters;
but the guard had orders not to admit any one. I sent in my card,
however, and in a few moments the chief of staff came down and
asked me to walk up to the reception-room. The surgeon in attendance
made his appearance, and said that the general was worse instead of
better; but that I could see him if I would promise not to speak. I
accordingly went into the sick-room, and found the general looking
very bad indeed. He smiled at me, and seemed to be glad that I had
called. I then retired, as I found that I could be of no assistance, and
went to see the emigrants.
I gave them an account
of my experiences and observations in
South America, and advised them, in the strongest possible terms,
not to pursue their journey any farther, but to return home; and, if
they wanted to get away from the South, to go West. Some of them
were much impressed with what I said, and came on shore to see me. I
invited them to the hotel to take dinner, and went into the matter more
particularly, showing them the great risks they would run, and the
small chance they would have of establishing themselves in a
satisfactory manner.
This interference on my
part was bitterly resented by some of the
leaders of the expedition, who expressed a desire that I should not
come on board the steamer again. I had no wish to do this, having
performed my duty, and I was willing now that they should take their
own course and abide the consequences; although I was sorry for
some of the poor women, who I knew would regret not having
followed my advice.
My expostulations proved
of no avail, and the steamer sailed for
South America, after her old, worn-out and worthless boiler had been
patched. The vessel itself, like the boiler, was worn out, and they were
obliged to put in at St. Thomas with her, and charter another boat.
Some of the people, I believe, returned to the United States from St.
Thomas, while the rest were glad to get back the best way they could,
after a very brief experience of Para, the port for which they were
bound. After reaching their destination, and endeavoring to effect a
settlement, they very soon came to the conclusion that my advice
was good.
On Sunday morning I
learned, to my infinite sorrow, that General
Mansana was dead! The funeral took place the next day, and the
body, having been embalmed, was carried through the streets,
followed by his carriage, dressed in crape, and his favorite horse. The
funeral was an imposing but sorrowful spectacle, for the general was a
good man; and although, like other public men, he had his enemies, he
deserved and enjoyed a great popularity.
With this visit to
Havana concluded my trip to South America and
the West Indies. In some of its aspects it was far from being
enjoyable; and yet, on the whole, I managed to have a pretty good
time, and I did not regret the journey. I had learned a great deal about
a part of the world that it was worth while to know something about,
and I had met a great many good friends whom I was exceedingly glad to
meet. Taking it all in all, the pleasures of the trip far more than
counterbalanced its disagreeable features, and the main thing I had to
complain of was, that I returned to the United States with a much
lighter pocket-book than when I set out.
Shortly after General
Mansana's death I took the steamer for the
United States, and was soon in New York, making but one brief
stoppage at Matanzas on the way.
CHAPTER L.
ACROSS THE CONTINENT.
Across the Continent in
search of a Fortune. — Omaha. — A Meeting with the
veteran General Harney. — Governor C. asks me to introduce him to the
General. — The Backwoodsman and the veteran Soldier. — The General induces
me to tell the Story of my Career, and gives me some good Advice. — Off
for
a long Stage-coach Ride. — Rough Fellow-Travellers. — An unmannerly Army
Officer taught Politeness. — Julesburg. — An undesirable Place for a
permanent
Residence. — An atrocious Murder. — More unpleasant travelling
Companions. —
Cheyenne. — A frontier Hotel. — Lack of even decent Accommodations. —
An undesirable Bedfellow. — A Visit to Laporte. — Again on the Road. — A
Water-Spout in Echo Canon. — The Coach caught in a Quicksand. — Mormon
Hospitalities. — Salt Lake City. — Arrival at the City of Austin, Nevada.
N
my return to the
United States, I found the financial and political
situations, especially at the South, more deplorable than ever. The
era of true reconstruction seemed to be even farther off than it did
when Lee surrendered, and the freedmen and carpet-baggers were
having things completely their own way throughout the length and
breadth of the late Confederacy. The people were oppressed and
harried without mercy and without hope of redress by the black and
white adventurers whom the fortunes of war had given the control of
their affairs, and it was very apparent that there could be no revival
of business worth speaking of while such a state of affairs existed. I
greatly desired to settle in the South, but my own fortunes were at
a low ebb, and I saw very plainly that if I expected to improve them it
would be necessary to go elsewhere.
After giving the matter
mature consideration, and making inquiries
in a number of quarters, I determined to try my luck in the mining
regions of the Pacific slope, as they seemed to hold out inducements
that no other part of the country did. Apart, however, from all
questions of pecuniary profit, I
was animated by a strong desire to explore for myself a territory
concerning which I had heard so much.
Having once resolved to
cross the continent in search of a home, I
did not stop to make many or very elaborate preparations, being too
old a traveller to encumber myself with an excess of baggage.
Purchasing a ticket for Omaha, I was soon on my way to that place by
the Niagara, Fort Wayne, and Chicago route.
At Omaha I found snow on
the ground, and the weather quite cold,
too cold for one who had just come from a tropical climate to venture
on a stage journey of many hundred miles, through the wilderness
with no thicker or warmer clothing than that which I had with me. I
was now in somewhat of a predicament, and began to regret that I had
trusted quite so much to my travellers luck, and had not furnished
myself with a more comfortable outfit.
I went to a dry goods
store to purchase some woollen
underclothing, but was unable to procure any. Fortunately, at the
International Hotel, where I was stopping, there was a lady who
intended to remain at Omaha for some time, and when she learned of
my difficulties, offered to sell me hers. This offer I accepted without
hesitation, and thus, by the merest chance, found myself equipped in
proper style for my long and tedious journey and its necessary
exposures to the weather.
Renewing My Acquaintance With General Harney.
At the International I
had the good fortune to meet an old friend
whom I had not seen for a number of years, and with whom it was a
pleasure of the most genuine kind to renew my acquaintance. This
was the veteran soldier, General W. S. Harney. He was, apparently, as
glad to see me as I was to see him, and insisted on escorting me in to
dinner, rather, I think, to the astonishment of some of the guests.
The general had a
special table for himself and friends, and as we
took our seats the eyes of everybody in the room were fixed on us.
The dinner was a good one in its way, the bill of fare being largely
made up of buffalo and antelope meat, and various kinds of game,
and, as I was desperately hungry, I enjoyed it greatly. While we were
dining the general chatted very freely, and narrated many curious
incidents of his career in the army, and expressed his views on the
late
war with the utmost freedom. He said that he was a true Southerner in
his sympathies, and that his extreme age alone had prevented him
from offering his services to the Confederacy. He, however, had
helped the cause as much as he could with his means and influence,
and his only regret was that he had not been able to take an active
part in the great conflict.
General Harney, it
appears, had heard some mention of my
adventures, and was very anxious to ask me about them. He did not,
however, think that the dinner-table of the International Hotel of
Omaha was exactly the suitable place to bring up a subject about
which I might have some hesitation in speaking, and so deferred
asking me any questions until a better opportunity offered.
When we returned to the
drawing-room I met some St. Louis
people whom I knew, and, engaging in conversation with them, the
general politely asked to be excused, and said that he would like very
much to have a conversation with me in his private parlor after four
o'clock.
When he was gone,
Governor C., a tall, lank, shambling
backwoodsman, stalked up to me, and, in an awkward sort of a way,
introduced himself. He desired to make the acquaintance of General
Harney, and wished to know if I would not do the "polite thing" for
him, that is, give him an introduction to the general. It struck me
that,
considering his official position, he might as well have introduced
himself; but, as he apparently did not know how to do this gracefully,
I told him that if the general was willing, he and the governor should
become acquainted after four o'clock, if he would meet me in the
drawing-room.
At the appointed hour I
descended from my room, where I had
been arranging my toilet, and found this model specimen of a
statesman pacing uneasily backwards and forwards in the hall,
waiting for me. For a wonder, his hat was in his hand instead of on his
head, which I took to be an indication that his mother had taught him
one or two points of etiquette in his youth, which he had managed to
retain in his memory.
When he saw me, he came
shambling up with that queer gait of his,
and said, with a grin, "I am on hand, you see; we western men are
generally prompt when we have engagements with the fair sex."
"Yes, I see you are
punctual; it is a good habit. I once knew a man
who made a large fortune by punctuality."
"Haw haw, haw!" roared
the governor, stretching his mouth
nearly from ear to ear. "That's pretty good. All of us people out here
are trying to make fortunes, and to make 'em quick; so I guess we'd
better make a point of being punctual. Haw, haw, haw!"
I then led him to the
general's private parlor without more ado, and
gave the desired introduction.
This ceremony performed,
the governor evidently did not know
what to say or do, but after a moment's hesitation he extended his
hand, and seizing that of the general, shook it as if he were working a
pump-handle. The general, who understood what kind of a customer
he had to deal with, stood up and saluted his new friend with a
characteristic gesture, and passed a few formal words with him. After
a very brief conversation, the governor, impressed by the general's
peculiar manner, and appreciating the force of the maxim that "two
are company and three a crowd," said that he would give himself the
pleasure of calling again, and bowed himself out.
When we were alone, in
compliance with the general's request, I
gave him an account of my adventures while acting as an officer in
the Confederate army and as a secret-service agent. He appeared to
be intensely interested, and frequently interrupted me to ask
questions, or to express commendation. We conversed for two hours,
when the announcement was made that supper was ready.
After supper we returned
to the private parlor again, and I
explained my plans for the future, and asked his advice. This he gave
in the kindest manner; and, as his experience of affairs in the West,
and his knowledge of the western country and people was most
extensive, it was extremely valuable to me.
He said that I was a
young woman yet, and that I would,
undoubtedly, have offers of marriage; but, for my own sake, he
hoped that if I did marry again, I would choose the right kind of a
man, and not permit myself to fall into the hands of some adventurer.
He thought that I was taking a great risk in going out to the mining
region, and believed that it would be much better for me to settle in
my native island, or else somewhere in the South. After all that I had
done for the South, he said that I ought to be able to live there like a
princess.
I told him, however,
that the idea of receiving any assistance
from the Southern people, situated as they were, was most
abhorrent to me, and that, as I was young and in good health, I
preferred to seek my own fortune and in my own way.
"Have you any arms?" he
inquired.
"Yes, two strong ones," I
replied, holding them out.
The general laughed, and
said, "Yes, those will be of service to
you if you are going to seek your fortune, but out among the mines
you will need arms of another kind."
He then gave me a
revolver, saying that I might have need for it,
and also a buffalo robe and a pair of blankets, which he was certain I
would find useful.
That night I slept but
little, thinking of the general's advice, and of
the unknown future before me. Towards morning I fell into something
like a doze, but before I was fairly asleep I was called, and told that
it
was time to get ready for the stage.
I found General Harney
up and waiting for me. We took breakfast
together; and as I got up to go to the stage, he said, "Remember the
advice of your best friend. I only wish that I was thirty-five years
younger; you should not make this journey alone."
This was so flattering
that I could not help permitting my wishes to
run in the same channel.
Off For A Ride Across The Plains.
After I was seated in
the back of the coach, snugly wrapped up in
my blankets and buffalo robe, a basket of eatables was handed in to
me, and just as we were about to start the general leaned in, and,
kissing me on the forehead, said, "Farewell, my child; if we should
never meet again, God will take care of you;" and then turning to the
driver, he told him to take good care of me, as I was a particular
friend
of his.
The driver said, "All
right, sir; I will look after her;" and, cracking
his whip, off we went, with nearly half the continent yet before me to
be travelled before my journey should be ended.
My travelling companions
were a rather rough set. The men on the
front seat — who proved to be, what I took them for, mountaineers — had
some whiskey, of which they partook rather more freely than was
good for them, and they were a little inclined to be boisterous. They
did not make themselves
disagreeable to me, however, and were evidently inclined to be
on their good behavior on account of a lady
being present. In spite of their rough manners they were better,
gentlemen than the fellow who sat next to me, and who wore more
stylish clothes than they did. They used no blackguard language or
profanity, and showed a disposition to be attentive to me whenever
they had an opportunity.
This other man, however,
swore fearfully, and, in spite of my being
on the seat with him, made use of language such as no true gentleman
would degrade himself by using under any circumstances. At length,
noticing the expression of disgust on my face, one of the
mountaineers on the front seat, said, "See here, old chap, just
remember there is a female aboard this stage-coach, will you?"
The other replied, "I am
a captain in the United States army, sir, and
I wish you to respect my commission."
Simmering Down.
"I don't care a d——n who
you are," said one of them, called Bill by
his companions. "You simmer down mighty quick;" and with that he
took him by the throat and choked him till he was nearly black in the
face.
This treatment was
effectual, and he did simmer down; and I was
annoyed no more by him during the balance of the trip, while Bill and
his friends earned my hearty respect despite their rough ways, and
their over-fondness for whiskey-drinking.
I shall not attempt to
describe the rough and toilsome ride over the
plains. It was scarcely such a journey as one would make for a mere
pleasure trip, and yet it was one worth making, if only for the reason
that it afforded an opportunity to study, with some minuteness, a
country that ere many years will probably be the seat of empire on
this continent. Much of this land between Omaha and the Rocky
Mountains is, undoubtedly, capable of great improvement under a
proper system of cultivation, and that it ultimately will be settled and
improved there can be no doubt. Just at present, however, there are
more inviting regions to which settlers may be expected to flock in
preference.
In course of time we
arrived at one of the most remarkable products
of Western civilization, — the town of tents, called Julesburg. I had
seen a great deal of life, and a great deal
of rough life; but when I beheld this place, I thought that I would
prefer to be excused from choosing it as a permanent residence. In
fact, a very brief stay in Julesburg was eminently satisfying, and I
was quite content to leave it, with a hope in my heart that I would
never
be compelled to find myself within sight of it again.
The Delights Of Julesburg.
Card-playing and
whiskey-drinking, embellished with blasphemy,
seemed to be the chief occupations of the Julesburg citizens, while
murder was their commonest amusement. Many of these men had
been brought up and educated in civilized communities, and knew
what decent living was; and yet, so soon as they would get out here,
they would throw off all restraint, and develop into worse savages
than the red men. Such a collection of fiends in human shape as
Julesburg was at the time I visited the place, I hope never to see
again. The women were, if anything, worse than the men, and I did
not meet more than two of my own sex while I was there who made the
most distant claims to even common decency or self-respect.
The reckless
bloodthirstiness of most of the men baffles
description. Pistols and knives were produced on the slightest
provocation, and often on no provocation at all, and no ties of
friendship appeared to be strong enough to check the murderous
propensities of some of the ruffians.
While standing in the
board shanty, which was dignified by the
name of a station, waiting for the stage to come up, I saw a fiend, in
human shape, deliberately shoot down a young man of about twenty
years of age. While his victim was writhing on the ground, he
stepped up and fired two more shots into his prostrate body, and
then, pulling out a huge knife, was about to cut his throat. Two of the
murderer's comrades, who seemed to have a little humanity in them,
now interfered, but only to have him turn upon them, with his eyes
flashing with fury and his mouth full of oaths. I expected to see a
general free fight, but the fellow, apparently satisfied with his bloody
work, permitted himself finally to be persuaded to leave his victim and
go away. I had witnessed many shocking scones, but nothing so
atrocious as this, and I was heartily glad when the stage shortly after
drove up, and I was able to say farewell to Julesburg.
It is due to these
desperadoes, however, to say that they are not
entirely without some good qualities. When they have any reason to
think that a woman is really respectable they will protect her, and
they are always free with their money, and ready to help any one who
may be in distress. Their vices, however, so far outnumber their
virtues, that their good deeds will scarcely count for much when they
are called upon to settle their final accounts.
A Hard Set Of Travelling Companions.
My companions of the
stage coach, as we rolled out of Julesburg,
were a rougher and more unpleasant set than the first party, and one
of the most disagreeable among them was, I am ashamed to say, a
woman. The men wore tolerably full when we started, and we were
scarcely off before they produced a bottle, and, after taking some of
the fearful smelling whiskey which it contained, passed it around. I
begged to be excused from partaking, but the other female passenger
was not so fastidious, and she took a good drink every time it was
handed to her. Her whiskey-drinking capacity was great, equal to that
of any of the men.
The language this woman
used was frightful, and she seemed to be
unable to open her lips without uttering some blasphemous or
obscene expression. Finally, having taken eight or nine big drinks
from the bottle, she became stupidly drunk; and then, to vary the
monotony of her proceedings, she produced a filthy pipe, which she
filled with the blackest plug tobacco, and commenced to smoke. The
fumes from this pipe were sickening to me, but I was willing to let her
smoke in peace, for it at least kept her quiet, and soothed her until
she fell into a deep and drunken sleep.
In this fashion we
rolled along until we came to Cheyenne, which
appeared to be quite a town, and a decided improvement on Julesburg.
A number of moderately good-looking houses were already occupied,
while others were in process of erection, and everything seemed to
indicate that this, in a short time, was likely to be a really thriving
place. The driver pulled up his horses, shouting, "Cheyenne House!"
and out the occupants of the stage coach tumbled, the drunken
woman and all, although she was so far gone that one of the men was
forced to almost lift her out, to prevent her from falling flat on the
ground.
The Cheyenne House, in
spite of its rather imposing name, was,
taking it all in all, the worst apology for a hotel I had ever met with
in
the course of my rather extensive travels. It was a frame building, of
the rudest construction, while the lodging rooms — about eight by ten
feet in size — were merely separated from each other by canvas
partitions, which rendered any real privacy an absolute impossibility.
The beds, or rather the bunks, in these rooms were large enough for
two persons, and it was expected that two persons would occupy
each of them, the luxury of a single bed being something unheard of
in that locality. The mattresses and pillows were made of flour bags, —
the miller's brands still on them, — stuffed with straw, and the
coverlets
were a pair of gray army blankets, with "U. S. A." plainly marked —
undoubtedly the plunder of some rascally quartermaster who was
bent on making his residence on the frontier pay him handsomely,
even if he had to cheat the government.
On entering the hotel,
we were ushered into a good-sized room, the
floor being made of the roughest pine boards, from which the tar
exuded in thick and sticky lumps. A large railroad stove, heated red
hot, was in the centre of the room, and was surrounded by a motley
crowd of men, who were sitting in every describable posture,
smoking, chewing, spitting, and blaspheming in a style that indicated
a total ignorance on their part of the fact that they had souls to be
saved. It was impossible to get near the stove, although it was quite
cold, for none of these men offered to move, and seemed to consider
a poor little woman, like myself, as something entirely beneath their
notice.
To my great satisfaction
I did not have to remain long in this choice
company, for supper was announced as ready within a few moments
of our arrival. I requested to be shown the wash-room, and, on
reaching it, found there a few old tin wash-basins, all of which were
vilely dirty, a sardine box with a lump of home-made soap in it, and a
vile-looking tow towel on a roller, which, in addition to being utterly
filthy, did not have a dry place on it as big as half a dollar.
Fortunately
I had my own soap and towels in my satchel, and managed to perform
my ablutions in a moderately satisfactory fashion. As for the basins
and towels belonging to the place, I should not have hesitated to
have used them, rough as they were, had they been moderately clean,
for, on the frontier, we have no right to expect the accommodations of
the Grand
Central Hotel of New York, or the Hotel do Louvre of Paris, and must
expect to rough it. Still, even on the frontier, soap and water are
cheap, and people who profess to keep hotels, and who take the
money of the public, ought to make some effort to have things
reasonably neat and tidy.
The dining-room was like
the rest of the building, of the roughest
possible construction. The table was covered with a dark colored
oil-cloth, full
of grease and dirt, and the supper, although it was such as a hungry
traveller
could have relished had it been properly prepared, was so uninviting in
appearance that I could eat but little of it.
Being much fatigued, so
soon as I had swallowed a few mouthfuls
I sought my room, but, on arriving there, found, to my utter
astonishment, that the woman who had come with me in the stage
was occupying the bed. When I remonstrated, I was told that it was
impossible for me to have a room to myself, and speedily found that I
either had to submit or else pass the night in the parlor among the
roughs congregated there. The alternative of sharing the bed with
my fellow-traveller was preferable, for there at least I should be safe,
as the room was over the landlord's private apartments, while the
parlor being over the bar-room, was liable to have a bullet coming
through the floor before morning.
I accordingly submitted
to circumstances, but did not obtain much
satisfaction from my couch, for, independently of its unpleasant
human occupant, it was fairly alive with vermin. My companion,
however, snored away in happy unconsciousness of any such
disturbances, being stupefied with whiskey, and overcome by the
fatigues of travel. She was evidently accustomed to this sort of
thing, and was not disposed to be fastidious.
The next morning she was
called to go in the stage. I having
determined to remain for a day or two, was therefore to part
company with her. She got up, and I was surprised to see that she
had been in bed all night without removing any of her clothing. From
under her pillow she took a belt containing a formidable-looking knife
and a six-shooter, which she buckled around her waist, and as she
did so, seeing that I was awake, asked, in a sarcastic sort of way,
"How did you sleep?"
"Not much," I replied.
"This kind of a bed don't suit me."
"Well, I've slept too
d — d much," she said. "I am tired
yet; I'd as lives sleep on a board or a rock as on one of these d — d old
straw beds!"
This was nice language
for a woman to utter, but it was nothing in
comparison to some that I had heard her use the day before. Soon, to
my infinite relief, this delectable creature was gone, and I was left to
myself.
After breakfast that
morning, I inquired for the superintendent and
road agent, Mr. Rube Thomas, but learned that he was not in the
town. I then asked for Mr. J. Stewart, another road agent, and a very
affable, obliging gentleman. This gentleman was, fortunately for me,
in Cheyenne, and he waited on me very promptly when he received
my message, and expressed himself as willing to do anything in his
power to assist me.
I desired to go to Camp
Davy Russell, and Mr. Stewart, in
the kindest manner, said that he would procure a conveyance,
and drive me there himself. He did so; and during our drive
he took a great deal of pains to point out the features of
interest, and to explain a number of useful points about the
country, its people, and its prospects. On reaching the camp,
I presented to General Stephenson a letter of introduction
from General Harney, and was very kindly received by him.
After a conference with General Stephenson, I returned to
Cheyenne with Mr. Stewart, but found that, in consequence
of the crowded condition of the stage, I would have to remain
till the next day.
Mr. Stewart, knowing how
uncomfortable I was at the hotel, then
offered to take me to Laporte, and place me in rather better quarters.
This kind offer I eagerly accepted, I and soon found myself under the
excellent care of Mrs. Taylor, the station-keeper's wife, and her
sister, who did all that was in their power to make me comfortable, and
to make the time pass agreeably. I passed several pleasant days with
these hospitable ladies, employing my time in horseback riding,
rambling over the mountains, gathering moss-agates, and visiting
the wigwams of the Indians.
Among the Indians.
The red men smiled on me
in a rather disdainful sort of way, and
evidently regarded me as an enemy. I wished most sincerely that I
understood their language, if only for the purpose of explaining my
friendly feelings towards them. I had
much more respect for these savages than I had for the ruffianly
white men who were dispossessing them of their country. In one
camp I did find an old woman who spoke English quite well, and had
a long conversation with her. She said that vice was almost unknown
among her people before the white men came, but that they corrupted
the young girls, and supplied the men with whiskey, until now there
was getting to be fewer and fewer good Indians every day.
The coaches, at each
trip, continued to be so crowded that it was
impossible for me to get a place in one, and, as I was anxious to
proceed, the agent at length arranged to put on an extra for the
accommodation of myself and several other travellers who also were
waiting somewhat impatiently. When I was about starting, Mr.
Stewart gave me a letter of introduction to the Mormon proprietor of
the Kimble House, in Salt Lake City.
After a few days' travel
we came to Echo City, at the entrance of
Echo Canon, where we met with an accident, which might have had
unpleasant consequences, but, as no lives were lost, we regarded it
as rather an agreeable variation of the monotony of our journey.
A water-spout in the
mountains had flooded the road, and the
driver, in attempting to force his way through a rather bad-looking
place, managed to get the coach and the horses stuck fast in a
quicksand. The passengers were obliged to swim out on the backs of
the horses, and escaped with no other damage than wet clothing.
Fortunately, we were near the house of a Mormon, who received us
very hospitably, and who, while his three wives were endeavoring
to make us as comfortable as circumstances would permit, went and
got two yoke of oxen and pulled the coach out.
First Acquaintance with the Mormons.
I had heard so much
against the Mormons that I was under the
impression they were all thieves and cutthroats. I confess that I was
most agreeably disappointed in them from this, my first acquaintance,
to the time of my taking a final leave of Utah. The homes, farms,
dress, and behavior all indicated that they were a hard-working,
industrious people, while they appeared to be entirely free from many
of the worst vices of the Gentiles.
While stopping at this
house in Echo Canon, I ventured to
make a few inquiries about their customs and belief, which were very
politely answered; and I was in the midst of a very interesting
conversation with one of the wives, a woman of about fifty-five,
when I was interrupted by the driver calling upon me to get into the
coach.
The rain having
freshened the air somewhat, I asked the driver to
permit me to sit with him outside, as we went through the canon, in
order that I might see the scenery. He consented, and assisted me to
a seat on the box, and as we passed through the canon, he
explained the points of interest to me. He was quite a handsome
young fellow, and very intelligent.
On entering the Bear
River Valley, my eye met, on all sides, little
white cottages or neat log houses, surrounded by well-cultivated and
well-watered farms and orchards, where not many years before was
but a burning plain, covered with sage bushes, and the home of the Ute
Indian, the buffalo, the elk, the antelope, the coyote, and the
silver gray fox. Through the untiring industry and good management
of people who had been driven from their homes in Ohio, Illinois,
and Missouri, this desert had been transformed into the paradise I
beheld. The Mormons fled here to escape persecution, desiring only
to get as far away from their enemies as possible, and after many
years of toil and hardship they achieved results of which they had a
right to be proud, and which entitled them to a more kindly
consideration than had been accorded them when residing in the
States.
Having passed the Bear
River Valley, we were soon in the great
metropolis of Mormondom, and driving through wide streets and
avenues, past houses that were evidently the abodes of thrifty
well-to-do people, the coach at length drew up before the door of the
Kimble House.
The proprietor came out,
and ushered us up stairs to the parlor, a
large, airy room, plainly but comfortably furnished, and soon a little
girl came and said that she would show me my room. The furniture in
this was somewhat primitive in its style, but everything was neat
and clean, and the accommodations, if not exactly such as the Fifth
Avenue Hotel offers, were all that any reasonable person had a right
to expect.
So soon as I was fairly
settled in the hotel, I presented the
proprietor the letter of introduction from the road agent at Cheyenne,
and had quite a long conversation with him. He
gave me much good advice about my future movements, and
seemed disposed, in every way, to be as kind and obliging
as he could. From him I learned that there were a number
of old Confederate soldiers in the city and vicinity; but as I
was anxious to get to the Eldorado, where I expected to
make my fortune, with as little delay as possible, I made no
attempt to find any of them.
After taking a rest for a
day or two in Salt Lake City, I again started
on my journey westward. At Ruby Valley, in Nevada, I met a
gentleman who was engaged in mining operations, and he advised me
strongly to go to the Reese River gold regions. I was not greatly
prepossessed with him, and yet he was certainly a man of intelligence
and cultivation, and, as what he told me only served to confirm what I
had heard from other persons, I concluded to take his advice. On
arriving at Austin, a new city in the mountains, near the Reese River, I
accordingly left the stage and took lodgings at the Exchange Hotel,
which was kept by a Slavonian by the name of Mollinely.
CHAPTER LI.
MINING IN UTAH AND NEVADA. — THE MORMONS
AND THEIR COUNTRY.
Noisy Neighbors. — A
Nevada Desperado. — The
Aristocracy of Austin. — My Marriage. — Speculation in Mines and
Mining Stock. — Removal
to Sacramento Valley, California. — Off for the Gold Regions
again. — A characteristic Fraud. — "Salting" a
Mine. — The Wellington District. — A Description of the Country,
and its Animal, Vegetable, and Mineral Products. — A Residence in
Salt Lake City — Acquaintance with prominent Mormons,
and Inquiries into the Nature of their Belief. — Mormon Principles and
Practices. — Salt Lake City and its Surroundings. — The Mineral
Wealth of Utah. — Preparing to Return to the East.
HE
sleeping apartment
assigned me at Austin
was not the most agreeable, being next to a room occupied by some
drunken fellows, who kept up a terrible noise nearly all night; and, as I
thought that most likely I would have to put up with this sort of thing
nearly all the time if I remained in the hotel, I determined to look for
lodgings elsewhere. A gentleman to whom I spoke about the matter
said, that he knew of a private house where rooms were sometimes
to be had, and offered to go and see if I could obtain accommodation
there.
While he was gone, the
chambermaid brought from the room next to
mine two pairs of pistols, two large knives, and a razor, and informed
me that their owner was a noted desperado, called Irish Tom, and that
he had killed two men.
I had some curiosity to
see this individual, but did not care
particularly to make his acquaintance. My curiosity was soon
gratified, for he came to the parlor inquiring for his weapons. Instead
of being angry with the chambermaid for having taken them from his
room to show them to me, he seemed to feel rather complimented that
I should feel an interest in them and him. He was a tall, good-looking
Irishman, with a very pleasant face, and had as little of the ruffian in
his appearance
as any man I had met on the frontier. I was informed that he never
attempted to hurt well-behaved people, and that he often submitted to
the grossest kind of insults from some of his intimates. Men of his
acquaintance had been known to slap him in the face, and he would
take no notice, but walk away as if nothing had happened. With
others, however, he would have no mercy, but would produce a pistol
or knife at the slightest provocation. Tom was rather noted for his
polite bearing towards the ladies, which I considered as an evidence
that he was not as bad, by any means, as he might have been.
My friend, who had gone
to look for lodgings for me, returned, and
said that he had secured me a very good room. I accordingly left the
hotel, and had reason to congratulate myself in my change of
quarters. My landlady was a Pennsylvanian, and was disposed to do
all in her power to make me comfortable, and to assist me in carrying
out the object I had in view in taking up my residence in Austin. She
introduced me to a restaurant-keeper, who agreed to supply me with
my meals, and also to a number of the prominent people of the place —
the judge, the doctor, the Methodist minister, and others.
Queer People.
The aristocracy of
Austin was made up of an odd lot of people,
who, however, had the best possible opinion of themselves, even if
they did use bad grammar, swear hard, and drink unlimited quantities
of whiskey. I, however, always had a happy faculty of adapting
myself to circumstances, and I was soon on excellent terms with most
of my new acquaintances.
Among my friends was an
individual of about sixty years of age,
who, from his conversation, seemed to have been at one time
accustomed to mingle in really good society. He was a widower, and
was extensively engaged in mining operations. I had not known him
more than a couple of days before he asked me to marry him, and
offered to give me an interest in his mines if I would accept him. I
thought that this was a rather abrupt style of courtship, and felt
constrained to decline. He took my refusal good-naturedly enough,
and was evidently not sufficiently in love with me to break his heart
because he could not get me.
Subsequently I met a
gentleman who paid me attention, and to
whom I became sincerely attached. We were married in a
very quiet manner; for neither of us desired, any more than we could
help, to be made the subjects of the gossip of a mining town.
Shortly after my
marriage I made a flying trip to New Orleans, for
the purpose of seeing my brother, and some of my
relatives. Immediately a rumor was started that I had run away; and
when I returned I found that all kinds of stories had been set afloat
about me. My re-appearance, however, set them all at rest; and, as my
husband and myself zealously attended to our own business, and let
that of other people alone, we were permitted to dwell together in
peace.
When I got back from New
Orleans, we purchased a snug little
stone house, and I devoted myself to advancing my husband's
interests as much as possible, and to making our home comfortable
and attractive.
My husband, for a time,
prospered in his mining operations; and,
although there were some envious people who spoke ill of him and of
me, we succeeded in gaining the esteem of such of our neighbors as
were worth knowing, and did not disturb ourselves about what might
be said of us by those who were disposed to speak evil.
The city of Austin,
which is near the centre of Nevada, at this time
(1868) contained from fifteen hundred to two thousand inhabitants,
most of whom were in some way connected with the mines. There
were about a dozen stores, one hotel, four or five lodging-houses, half
a dozen restaurants, more drinking-saloons than I ever undertook to
count, Catholic and Methodist churches, a Masonic hall, and five
quartz crushing-mills, only one, however, of which was in operation.
Mining Speculations And Swindles.
There was any amount of
speculation in mines and mining stocks,
and any amount of the worst kind of swindling going on all the time.
Some of the mines were good ones; but others were mere pretences,
and were worth nothing at all. Many of these bogus mines were sold
to eastern capitalists by experts, who made a specialty of working
frauds of this description.
It was while residing in
Austin that I first heard the expression
"salting" applied to mines, and learned what it meant. Salting,
however, was only one of a number of frauds that were practised
every day.
Scenes At El Dorado.
It grieved me greatly
that my husband should be compelled to
associate, and to transact business with such scoundrels as the men
about him. His partner, especially, was as worthless a scamp as there
was in the district; and, as I felt certain that he would in time be
held
responsible for some of the doings of this fellow, I persuaded him to
give up mining, and to seek a home in some locality that offered
greater advantages for living, as decent people ought to live, than
Austin did.
My husband accordingly
sold out his interest in the mines, and we
removed to California, where we purchased a lovely place in the
Sacramento valley. This was just such a home as I had always sighed
for, and I was perfectly happy in the idea of settling down, and living
a quiet contented life for the rest of my days.
It was not to be,
however. My husband had the gold fever, and he
found it impossible to be satisfied with what would have satisfied
most reasonable people. He was restless and irritable, and was all the
time anxious to be off to the mines again.
We had not been settled
in our new home more than a few months,
when, to my infinite regret, he insisted on starting off for the new
Eldorado in Utah. He then passed a year prospecting in Bingham
Canon, Camp Floyd, Eureka, and Tintic, and expended all his money
without achieving anything. He was then compelled to accept the
foremanship of a mine in the Lucine district, and after he had been
working in that capacity for some time, was promoted to
superintendent.
One of the members of
the firm by whom my husband was
employed was a gentleman, and was honest, as honesty went in that
region. The other was a drunkard, and a fraud of the worst kind. This
man, some time before this, had started a settlement, which he named
after himself, and had built a smelting furnace, all for the purpose of
selling some bogus mines. He also perpetrated an infamous swindle
on some English capitalists, in relation to a mine in Nevada.
A "Salted" Mine.
The way the thing was
done was this, and it will serve as an
illustration of the kind of swindles that were constantly being
perpetrated in connection with mines.
He sent to Virginia and
purchased some rich ore from the
Comstock mine, for the purpose of salting the mine which he
wished to sell. This was a silver-bearing lead, but there was not
enough metal in the ore to pay for getting it out. It was necessary,
however, in order to effect a sale, to give the impression that it was
very rich. The smelter, therefore, run out about three thousand bars,
which were supposed to be silver, but which were in reality half lead.
Those were hauled to the
depot, where the persons who proposed
to purchase could see them; but after dark they were taken back to
the mine, and the next day the teams took them to the depot again.
This was done for three successive days, and the Englishmen, seeing
such enormous amounts of metal, became greatly excited, and offered
a million dollars for the mine. The speculator refused, and then they
offered a million and a half. This offer he closed with, and a day was
set for the inspection of the mine.
The "dumps" were
thoroughly salted, and arrangements were
made for the assayer and mining expert to be in attendance. The
proposed purchasers had their expert with them, a German professor
from Freiburg. This professor had a large sack with him in which to
put samples of ore, and when going down into the mine he gave it to
one of the men to carry for him.
The speculator had on a
large blanket-coat, with immense pockets
in it, which were filled with rich ore. The man with the sack was also
provided with a small quantity, to be used in case of emergency.
Every time the professor put a piece of ore in the sack, so soon as his
back was turned the speculator or his man would drop in some of the
rich ore. The result was, that when the assays were made, they rose
from three thousand to fifteen thousand dollars to the ton.
The Englishmen were in
ecstasies, and insisted on the contract
being drawn up immediately. Part of the purchase money was then
paid down, and the rest was to be forthcoming in thirty days. When
the thirty days expired the purchasers took possession, only to find
that they had been duped in a most outrageous manner. By the time
the discovery of the fraud was made, however, the swindlers had
fled, and the Englishmen had nothing to do but to return to London
with empty pockets.
One of them, however,
tried his luck again in Little Cottonwood,
in the Wellington district, but with no better success.
My husband was at this
time superintendent of one of the
Wellington mines, and I consequently had ample opportunities
to study mining life, and to become acquainted with the
numerous frauds that were going on. I was also thrown in a good
deal with the Mormons, and was able to study their characters and
manners.
Little Cottonwood canon
is about twelve miles long, is
very narrow, and very deep. A stream runs down the middle
of it, which is very swift in the months of June and July,
when it is full, on account of the melting of immense quantities
of snow on the mountains.
The Gold Region Of Nevada.
Tannersville is a town,
or settlement, named in honor of a woman
who kept a hotel or stage-station there. There was a mill and smelter
at that place at the time of which I am writing.
Alta City, at the foot
of the two canons, — Big and Little
Cottonwood, — is a town of rather more importance. When I was there
it had three stores, a hotel, a couple of lodging-houses, a livery
stable,
and a large number of drinking-saloons. The dwelling-houses were
mostly very small, and were entirely invisible in winter, being
covered by the snow. The snow usually commences to fall about the
middle of September, but I have seen it in August. During the winter
many parts of the canon are impassable, except by the use of sledges
and snow-shoes, and there is constant danger from avalanches,
which carry everything before them.
The Wellington mine lost
its foreman and a miner through an
avalanche while I was there, and many men have lost their lives in
this canon, their bodies remaining buried beneath the snow until
spring.
I doubt whether many of
the mines in this district will ever be
successfully worked. The Emma is one of the best, and I think could
be made to pay, if judiciously operated. This mine is situated in the
side of the mountain, and is almost perpendicular. On looking at it, it
is impossible not to wonder how the owners ever reached it, or are
able to work it. I believe that there is an immense lead of silver here
which will yet be unearthed.
This part of the country
offers a rich field for the botanist and
naturalist. The flowers are in the greatest profusion, and
are of every imaginable hue. They grow from the mouth of
the canon to some of the highest points on the mountains.
The wild cherry, the whortleberry, the serviceberry, the
thimbleberry, and the dewberry are very abundant.
On the very summits of
this immense range will be found clear blue
lakes, filled with spotted trout. How they have managed to get there
is more than I can tell.
When the highest points
are reached, if one looks aloft the broad-winged
eagle may be seen wheeling in the air; while upon the ground
are the beautiful mountain squirrels, busily engaged in gathering
their winter stores. I have often sat for hours and watched these
nimble little animals. There are as many as six different varieties of
squirrels, some of which are not larger than mice, while others, the
size of the common gray squirrels of the Eastern States, are
beautifully striped, and vary in color from light gray to dark brown.
The greatest enemies of these harmless animals are the eagle and the
mink.
Large rats abound in the
woods, as do also the brown weasels.
These last-named animals are about eighteen inches in length from
the nose to the tip of the tail. The head is small, and the eyes, which
are very prominent, are of a soft, lustrous black. The weasels are very
cunning, and are especially destructive to the mice and squirrels. I
have seen two old ones kill as many as six or eight mice in a day, in
my home, and carry them, one at a time, across the ravine to their
young in the woods. While carrying a mouse, however, should a
squirrel appear, the weasel will throw down the mouse, and go after
this fresh game, and then come back and get the mouse.
To my great
satisfaction, my husband at length got tired of
working in this region, and under so many disadvantages, and
concluded to try his fortune elsewhere. He had quite a notion of New
Mexico, which he thought held out inducements for fortune-seekers;
but I was beginning to be out of the notion of the whole business,
and was anxious to be among a different class of people from those
who, for the most part, make up the population of the mining districts.
There was so much outrageous swindling going on when we were
there residing, that I was disposed to regard almost any move as a
good one, and very willingly turned my face eastward again.
We went first to Salt
Lake City, where we remained for some time,
and I consequently had excellent opportunities afforded me for
becoming intimately acquainted with a number
of Mormons, and of learning a great deal about their religion, and
their manners and customs.
Among the Mormons.
The lady with whom I
boarded had been an early convert to
Mormonism, had resided at Nauvoo at the time the exodus was
determined upon, and had been one of the band of emigrants, who,
fleeing from persecution, had sought a home among the mountains of
Utah. She had been one of twelve wives, and was a strong advocate
of polygamy. When she saw that I really desired to know something
about Mormonism, not from mere curiosity, but from a genuine wish
to gain information that would enable me to form an impartial judgment,
she took great pleasure in answering all my questions, and in
providing me with facilities for pursuing my inquiries.
She was a very
intelligent woman, and her account of the
persecutions to which the Mormons were subjected at Nauvoo,
and the suffering and hardships they endured during the long
and toilsome journey to a place where they hoped to be forever
undisturbed, was most interesting. She had quite an
extensive library, to which I had free access, and she took a
great deal of pains in directing my reading, and in explaining
points which I found to be obscurely stated in the books.
As I was the only
boarder in the house, my husband being away
in the canon most of the time, we were naturally thrown much together,
and after we became intimate she took me into her confidence to
an extent that she would not have done had we been comparative
strangers.
Among other things, she
showed me her Endowment robes, which
she wore when she became a member of the Mormon church. This
dress consisted of a linen garment, something like a pair of drawers. It
was very full, and had a body and sleeves attached. Over one side a
heart-shaped piece was cut out, and the edges worked with a button-hole
stitch. Curious figures were also worked on the sleeves and on
the left hip. The robe proper was something like a priest's surplice.
The slippers, which, like the rest of the dress, were of linen,
resembled
moccasons. A tall pointed cap, with holes for the eyes, which is
drawn down over the face during the ceremonies, completed this
singular attire.
The decorations worn by
the men while taking the oath were also
shown to me. They consisted of a regalia of Mazarine
blue silk, with a representation of the Temple of Solomon in the
centre, and a heart, surrounded by a number of emblems similar to
those in use by the Masons. She told me that the oath was very
similar to that which the Masons used, and that it was administered
to both men and women.
Polygamy.
During my residence in
Salt Lake City, I became acquainted with
Brigham Young, and a number of the bishops, and other prominent
Mormons, and I formed a very high opinion of them. There certainly
has seldom or never been so well-governed a people as the Mormons
were before the Gentiles found them out, and insisted on intruding on
their domain. As for polygamy, it is a part and parcel of their
religion,
and has the sanction of the same Bible that the Christians, both
Catholic
and Protestant, acknowledge; and I cannot see why the Mormons
should not be permitted to hold their religious beliefs the same as
other sects. I do not believe in polygamy myself, but if other people
think it is right, and choose to practise it, that is their business and
not mine.
Whether polygamy,
however, be right or wrong, there is this to be
said in favor of the Mormons. The men marry according to the custom
of their church, and they acknowledge and provide for the women
who bear them children — which is a good deal more than a great many
people who denounce polygamy and Mormonism do. The Mormon
religion professes to be based upon the Bible, what they call "The
Book of Mormon" being merely a later revelation; and I have heard
as good, sound, practical sermons preached in Salt Lake City by
Mormons who worked hard all the week earning bread for
their families, as I ever heard anywhere.
I have listened to the
preaching of nearly all the principal bishops,
and I never heard any of them utter a word that was not good
doctrine, calculated to make men and women better and more
honorable in all their dealings with their neighbors. Most of these
sermons were in a much more practical vein than some I have heard in
fashionable churches a good many hundred miles eastward of Salt
Lake City; but I liked them none the less for that; and I respected the
preachers, for, so far as I was able to see, they practised exactly what
they preached, and did not have one religion for the Sabbath and
another for working days.
I never saw or heard of a
gambling den or a drinking saloon being
kept by a Mormon; and many of the degrading vices which flourish in
Gentile communities, were absolutely unknown in Salt Lake City when
the Mormons were its only residents. Even now, the standard of
morality is higher in this and other Mormon towns than it is in any
place that I know anything about between Omaha and the Pacific
coast; while in real thrift and industry the Mormons are out of all
comparison superior to their Gentile neighbors.
These people went to
Utah, hoping and expecting to separate
themselves from the rest of the world, in order that they might
worship God in their own way without molestation, and they ought to
be permitted to do it. Through many years of toil and indefatigable
industry they transformed the barren wilderness into a blooming
Paradise. Conducting the water down from the mountains, they
succeeded in bringing the sandy plains, covered with sage bushes,
under cultivation, and what was once a dreary desert, is now fertile
fields, yielding luxuriant harvests, or orchards bearing the most
delicious fruits.
A Mormon Household.
During my stay in Salt
Lake Valley, I boarded for several months in
the house of Bishop Nilo Andrews, at Sandy Station, and was on very
intimate terms with five of his six wives. They were all smart women,
and their children were, without exception, fine looking, strong,
hearty, and intelligent. The bishop was passionately fond of his
children, and took the greatest pains to have them well educated. His
daughters he escorted to all public gatherings and entertainments that
it was proper for them to attend, and did all in his power to make life
enjoyable for them.
The bishop was about
sixty years of age, and was as hale and
hearty as a man of thirty. He was not a bit afraid of work, and could
get through an amount of it that would have shamed many a younger
man. I never want to receive better hospitality than I did from him;
and when he found that I was desirous of obtaining correct
information about the Mormons he expressed himself as willing to
tell me anything I wished to know.
He was quite a learned
man, and like all the Mormons I ever met,
was thoroughly posted in the Bible and in biblical history,
and was able to explain, in a satisfactory manner, the points of
coincidence and differences between Mormonism and other religious
systems. The bishop told me that the greatest pains was taken in the
matter of religious instruction, and that men and women who could
not read, and even quite young children, often knew most of the Bible
by heart.
The Mormon Sects.
There are a number of
sects among the Mormons, between which
some jealousy seems to exist. Of these, the Brighamites, the Gadites,
and the Josephites are the principal. What the differences between
them are I never could exactly make out. Another matter I never
clearly understood, was the status of sealed wives. I could not
comprehend by what theory a Mormon could marry a widow for her
lifetime, while all her children born of the second marriage would
belong to the first husband in the next world.
The City of Salt Lake is
located on the banks of the River Jordan, a
stream which connects Great Salt Lake and Utah Lake. It is about
three miles distant from the mountains which lie to the eastward. The
streets are very wide, and are, many of them, very handsome in
appearance, being lined with cotton-wood and sycamore trees, and
having streams of water running through them. This last is a specially
attractive feature.
Most of the houses are
well built, and are very neat and
pretty, being supplied with all the conveniences and comforts
reasonable people can desire. Each house has a small garden
and orchard attached, which are invariably kept in the best
possible order.
Brigham Young's
residence is of stone, and is surrounded by a
wall. Over the entrace is a bee-hive, emblematic of industry, and over
the large gate is a spread eagle. The house is plain, and not at all
pretentious, but it is neat and substantial looking. The walls of the
office are ornamented with some fine portraits of Joseph Smith and
other Mormon celebrities.
Brigham Young is a
light-complexioned man, rather inclined to
corpulency, but strong and hearty in spite of his years and the labors
he has undergone. He has a large, full head, a keen blue eye, and an
easy, affable manner that is very engaging. I found him to be a
pleasant, genial gentleman, with
an excellent fund of humor, and a captivating style of conversation.
The great Tabernacle,
which will be used for the purpose of
worship until the Temple is completed, is an immense building, which
will seat fifteen thousand people. The pews are built in tiers, so that
each person in the building can have a view of the altar. The altar is a
large and imposing structure. In its rear is the organ and a space for
the choir. This organ is the second largest in the world. It was built
entire in Salt Lake City. The work on the Temple is going on all the
time, slowly but surely, and the expectation is to have it finished by
the time of Christ's second coming. He will then dedicate it, and it
will
be the great religious centre of the world, where all true Christians
will
come and worship.
Every ward of Salt Lake
City has its public school, and efforts are
made to give every child a good practical education. There are four
large hotels, three banks, three printing offices, a large,
well-regulated
hospital, numerous manufactories of various kinds, and several
flouring and other mills.
There are several large
towns in the neighborhood of the city, and
new settlements are continually springing up. Springville, about fifty
miles to the south-east, is a very beautiful place. At the time of which
I am writing a railroad down the centre of the valley was in operation,
and two others were in contemplation.
The mineral wealth of
Utah is practically inexhaustible. Iron, gold,
silver, copper; lead, salt, alum, gypsum, soda, arsenic, and slate
abound in immense quantities.
Salt Lake is a very
large body of water, of a much greater specific
gravity than that of the ocean. No living thing can exist in it, and in
its deepest parts no soundings have ever been able to find a bottom.
There are three islands near the middle of the lake, which are said to
be rich in metals.
In the southern part of
Utah, called Dixie, cotton and cattle are
raised. On the banks of the Sevier River are very fine grazing lands.
The Mormons claim that there have been some discoveries of gold
and silver made in this section.
Taking it all in all, my
residence in Salt Lake city was both pleasant
and profitable to me; and when the time came for me to say farewell
to my Mormon friends, I did so with many regrets, and with many
wishes that they might escape persecution from their enemies. I could
not agree with all of their religious doctrines, but I learned to regard
them as an industrious,
hard-working, and honest people, and as, consequently,
deserving of respect and sympathy.
After a sojourn of a
number of months in Utah, I prepared to
journey eastward again, having scarcely bettered my fortunes, but
having seen some varieties of life worth seeing, and having gained
some valuable experiences, not the least valuable of which was, that
mining speculations are things that people who have consciences
should have as little as possible to do with.
CHAPTER LII.
COLORADO, NEW MEXICO, AND TEXAS. — CONCLUSION.
Denver. — Pueblo. — Trinidad. — Stockton's
Ranche. — A Headquarters for
Desperadoes. — Cattle Stealing. — A private Graveyard. — Maxwell's
Ranche. —
Dry Cimmaron. — Fort Union. — Sante Fe. — The oldest City in New Mexico. —
A wagon Journey down the Valley of the Rio Grande. — Evidences of
Ancient Civilization. — Fort McRae and the Hot Spring. — Mowry City. —
The Gold Mining region of New Mexico and Arizona. — El Paso. — A
thriving Town. — A stage Ride through Western Texas. — Fort Bliss. — Fort
Quitman and Eagle Spring. — The Leon Holes. — Fort Stockton. — The Rio
Pecos. — A fine Country. — Approaching Civilization. — The End of the
Story.
ITH
my little baby
boy — born during my sojourn
in Salt Lake City — in my arms, I started on a
long journey through Colorado, New Mexico,
and Texas, hoping, perhaps, but scarcely expecting, to find the
opportunities,
which I had failed to find in Utah, Nevada, and California, for
advancing my pecuniary interests. Apart, however, from profits that
might result from it, the journey would be worth making for its own
sake, for, from what I had heard of this section of the Western
country, great things were to be expected of it in the near future; and
the satisfaction of seeing and judging of the nature and extent of its
resources would amply repay me for the trouble of making a trip
through it.
After leaving Salt Lake
City, the first place of importance reached
was Denver, Colorado, on the Platte River. This I found to be a well
built and very thriving town, of about eight or ten thousand
inhabitants.
Among its public institutions were a branch of the United States Mint,
and several hotels, churches, and banks. Denver was, until the
completion
of the Pacific Railroad, the chief trading centre in this region. Since
the
completion of the railroad, however, its importance in comparison with
other places has, in some degree
diminished; but as the country becomes settled, it may be expected
to increase in wealth and population, and it will probably, ere a great
many years, be one of the finest cities in the whole West.
Among the new towns
which have recently sprung up in Colorado
is Pueblo, nearly two hundred miles south of Denver, and the
terminus of the narrow gauge railroad which taps the Pacific Railroad
at Cheyenne. This town takes its name from the Pueblo Indians, who
are much farther advanced in civilization than most of the aborigines,
and who deserve much credit for their industrious habits and their
efforts to prosper.
Trinidad, still farther
to the south, is an old Mexican town, and is
the centre of an extensive cattle and sheep raising country. There is a
constant war going on in this region on the subject of stock between
Americans, Mexicans, and Indians. Cattle thieves, who steal stock
from Texas and Mexico, rendezvous near Trinidad, and, as they are
not particular whom they plunder, so long as they are able to do it
with impunity, their presence is anything but agreeable to people who
desire to live reasonably peaceable lives, and to get along by minding
their own business.
A Colorado Ranche.
Some distance from
Trinidad is Stockton's Ranche, in the midst of a
wild, unsettled country, and the only house within a circuit of many
miles' ride. This is a noted headquarters of the desperadoes who infest
New Mexico and Lower Colorado. The building is two stories in
height, is quite large, and contains a store and drinking-saloon. On a
mound above the house is a graveyard, in which twenty-one people
have been buried. Only three out of this number had died natural
deaths, the others having been shot down like dogs, for some real or
fancied offences. Stockton has killed several men himself, while many
more have fallen by the hands of his confederates.
Stockton was a small
man, restless in his movements, and with a
fierce black eye. He had a wife and a very interesting family, for whom
I felt much sympathy when I learned what a desperate character he
was. His wife, who seemed to be a very nice, clever woman, was much
troubled with regard to him. She told me that she was always uneasy
about him when he was away from home, and that, at times, even
when he was
sleeping in his bed, she was harassed with fears lest some
one should come and take him for the purpose of shooting him.
While I was at the
Ranche, Stockton sent out some of his
men to get some cattle at Maxwell's Ranche, which he claimed as his.
His instructions were to take the cattle at all hazards,
and to capture the men who were supposed to have stolen them, dead
or alive. The herders were generally selected for
their utter recklessness, and as a rule they cared neither for God nor
man, but would shoot down any one who offended
them, without pity or remorse. Most of these herders are very young
men, and are generally athletic and handsome.
Some of them, from their appearance and conversation, appear to
have been well reared; and if asked why they have come to the
frontiers to lead such a wild life as this, they will
frankly say, that they are trying to make their fortunes, and that they
expect to do it in a couple of years. They are usually disappointed in
these expectations; and those who do
not give up in disgust, and return to civilization, fall into the habits
of
the country, and soon become as finished desperadoes
as those who have been born and brought up there. Some of them,
however, engaged in this kind of life because they really like it, and
because they feel a certain freedom and unrestraint in roaming about
in the open air.
Lawlessness.
Whenever a freight
train, either American or Mexican,
passed, Stockton would buckle on his belt of six-shooters, and, with a
big negro, armed in a similar manner, as his bodyguard, step out into
the road with a roll of brands in one hand and a pistol in the other,
and inspect the brands on each head of cattle. Should the brands
compare with his, he would take them from the train, and let the
freighters make out the best way they could. He has many times stopped
and broken up freight trains bound for Sante Fe and the interior, to the
infinite injury of the merchants who depend
upon the freighters for their goods. The traders, however, appear to
be powerless before this and other desperadoes, and the government
which takes their taxes, under the plea of
affording them protection, ought certainly to do something to prevent
them from being at the mercy of men who recognize no laws but their
own fierce wills.
On one occasion
Stockton, through some of his employees, duped
two men from Maxwell's Ranche, who, he asserted, had stolen cattle
from him. When he had them in his power he started off, leaving the
impression on the minds of their friends that he intended to take them
to Trinidad, for the purpose of delivering them up to the sheriff.
Instead of doing this, however, he carried them into a side road and
there shot them, leaving their bodies to be devoured by the coyotes,
or, perhaps, buried by some casual passer-by. For this deed he was
arrested and lodged in jail. He was liberated, however, almost
immediately, without even the form of a trial, the officers being too
much afraid of him and of his confederates to detain him.
The occurrences which I
have related will illustrate the kind of life
that is led in the cattle raising country of Colorado, New Mexico,
South-western Kansas, and Texas. I named this place Bandit House,
and the ford in the stream near by, Dead Man's Crossing, — which are
expressive and appropriate, if not poetical.
A Wealthy Ranchero.
Beyond Stockton's is
General Maxwell's Ranche. Maxwell is the
wealthiest American in Southern Colorado. I believe he got his start in
life by marrying a Mexican woman, who inherited an extensive
Spanish grant. Maxwell has quite a large family, and he bears a better
reputation than do most of the old settlers. He is a great gambler, and
is much interested in horse-racing, but is disposed to be kind and
hospitable to strangers.
Crossing quite an
extensive piece of country, the Dry Cimmaron is
reached. Here some enterprising Englishmen, headed by a Mr. Read,
have taken up a large tract of land, and have established a colony.
They have built a very neat little town, and when I passed through
there, their affairs seemed to be in a thriving condition. The town is
located on a rather high and dry elevation, which takes its name from
the scarcity of water in the branch of the Cimmaron River, which runs
by it.
Dry Cimmaron was for a
time a stopping-place for the stages from
the Elizabethtown mines, which connected with the Southern lines. It
is on a more direct route for the cattlemen and freighters; but,
although it has plenty of wood, it is
open to objection as a cattle and freight station, on account of the
insufficiency of the water supply.
A Frontier Fort.
The next point of
interest is Fort Union, in New Mexico, about sixty
miles south of Dry Cimmaron. This fort, which, at a distance, looks like
a small city, is built of adobe, or white bricks, and is plastered
inside
and out with gypsum, which gives it a rather dazzling-white
appearance. The garrison consists of five companies of infantry and
one of cavalry. Fort Union is the central supply depot for the
frontiers,
and is a very important position. Some distance off, in the mountain, is
a steam saw-mill, which supplies all the lumber used in and about the
fort. This saw-mill is protected by an armed guard of soldiers. There is
also a blacksmith shop, a wagon shop, a carpenter shop, and a post
office. Each company has a garden and several cows, and the men
seem to take a great deal of pride in keeping everything in the best
possible order. This fort and its surroundings do much credit to the
officers who planned them, and who have succeeded in making such a
nice-looking place out of a frontier military post.
From Fort Union to Santa
Fe the traveller passes over some rough
country. Santa Fe is the oldest city in New Mexico, and one of the
oldest in the country. It has been, and undoubtedly for a long time will
be, an important centre of trade between the United States and
Mexico. The ground in and about the city is all owned by Mexicans,
or people of Mexican descent, who refuse to sell on any terms, but
who will lease to Americans. The houses are chiefly one and two
story structures, built of adobe, and covered with tile or thatch. They
are cool, pleasant, and comfortable in summer. The hotel, which is
kept by an American, but which is owned by a Mexican, who has
refused to permit any alterations or improvements to be made, stands
on the corner of the plaza, or great public square, which was laid out
by the founders of the city. During the war, the Union soldiers insisted
on erecting a monument on the plaza to the memory of their fallen
comrades.
This gave great offence to the old residents, who regarded the structure
as an injury
to the appearance of their public square; but as they were powerless
to prevent its erection, they were compelled to submit with the best
grace
they could. As the monument is not a very elegant-looking affair, it is
not surprising that those who were not interested in it could not bring
themselves to admire it.
So old a city as Santa
Fe, of course, has an interesting history, but
a recital of the events which have made it famous is scarcely called
for in such a narrative as this. It is, in its peculiar way, a handsome
place, and has a venerable appearance, which is quite imposing. Santa
Fe contains about twenty thousand inhabitants.
It was in the month of
November that our little party started down
the fertile valley of the Rio Grande from Santa Fe, but the weather was
warm and pleasant, the great elevation giving this region a deliciously
dry and healthful climate. There were seven of us in all, and for the
sake of companionship and mutual protection we engaged a large
wagon drawn by six mules.
Central New Mexico.
It was about ten o'clock
in the morning when we rolled out of Santa
Fe, and our first camping-place was an Indian village, where we found
a neat little adobe house, of which we took possession while resting
ourselves and preparing our supper. One of the gentlemen made the
coffee, while the others employed themselves in cooking the
provisions, or in roaming about, looking at, and trying to converse
with the Indians, or viewing the scenery. My travelling companions
were all pleasant people, and we enjoyed ourselves hugely. Mr.
McKnight, the owner of the wagon and mules, was an exceedingly
gentlemanly man, and I shall always bear him in kindly remembrance
for his attentions to me and to my little boy during this journey.
Once on the road again,
we followed the valley southward,
stopping the next day for our dinner at an Indian village, which was
situated at the foot of a lofty mountain, and which overlooked the Rio
Grande. After having dined, we struck across a stretch of high, dry
table land, covered with sage-bushes, of which we gathered a quantity
as we went along, to be used as fuel in cooking our supper. We
reached the Rio Grande again about nightfall, and had a grand supper,
some of the gentlemen having succeeded in killing half a dozen wild
ducks and one rabbit, and in catching one fish.
From this point we
pursued our way down the valley, passing a
number of old Mexican towns, and plantations of cotton
and sycamore, which indicated that the land had once been thickly
settled with people of no mean civilization, until we reached Fort
McRae.
This valley of the Rio
Grande is a magnificent route for a railroad,
and I doubt not that in a few years it will be found worth while to
build one. There is plenty of water and timber, and the country offers
many inducements to industrious settlers. The principal towns are
Albuquerque, Valencia, Socarro, Dona Ana, and Mesilla. The Pueblo
Indians have a number of settlements, and the portions of country
inhabited by them are generally in a high state of cultivation. These
Indians own a great many cattle, sheep, and horses, and they support
a number of churches and schools.
Near Fort McRae is the
famous hot spring. It is situated on a high
mound, and its depth has never been sounded. This spring is in a
state of constant ebullition, is very clear, very hot, and is possessed
of valuable medicinal properties. Consumptives are especially
benefited by the use of its waters. Around the edge is a rough crust
of lime, which takes all imaginable shapes. The water of the spring will
cook eggs quicker than ordinary boiling water, and when cool it is
very pleasant to the taste. A short distance off is a cold spring, near
which is a famous Indian camping-ground.
Striking south-westward
from Fort McRae, we came to Rio de los
Mimtres, near the head of which is Mowry City, founded by
Lieutenant Mowry, who could not have had any very clear ideas as to
what he was about when he attempted to make a settlement in such a
place. Mowry City has a hotel, one or two stores, and more
drinking-saloons
than do it any good. That it will ever be much of a place I do
not believe. There is not water enough in the river the greater part of
the time to float two logs together, and in very dry weather one can
step across it without wetting the feet. A sudden shower will,
however, convert this puny creek in a short time into a raging river,
which carries everything before it, and then it will subside as
suddenly as it arose.
From Mowry City, which I
regarded as a fraud of the worst kind, we
went to Pachalalo, where we found a very beautiful ranche, owned by
a Canadian, who had taken a great deal of pains in improving and
beautifying his place. He had made a pretty artificial lake, which, like
the rest of the ranche, was supplied with water brought down from the
mountains.
A visit was now made to
Silver City, a new settlement in the
mountains, containing, probably, about fifteen hundred inhabitants.
There were three quartz mills, but nothing worth talking about
appeared to be doing in the way of getting out metal. None of the
mines were paying expenses, chiefly, I thought, through a lack of
competent persons to treat the ore, which seemed to be rich enough.
Another and very great difficulty in working these mines, however,
was the absence of transportation facilities, and the presence of
hostile Indians. A railroad will aid immensely in developing this
country, which is one of the richest in the world in minerals. On the
San Domingo, San Francisco, and Gila Rivers are admirable grazing
lands, which will be very valuable to somebody in the course of time.
The attractions of this country are very great, and it will doubtless be
rapidly settled in a few years.
This country, however,
did not hold out any great inducement for
me at the time of my visit, and, after taking a look at it, I turned
back,
and passing through Mesilla, went to El Paso, in Texas, where I
remained two days, preparatory to taking the overland stage for a
journey across the Lone Star State.
El Paso is the terminus
of the overland stage route, the mails being
conveyed from there to the interior on horseback. This town is one of
the prettiest on the Rio Grande, and there is more business done there
than in any place in that whole region outside of Santa Fe. El Paso
contains a number of really fine buildings, which would do credit to
some Eastern cities. The country in the vicinity produces corn, wheat,
and all kinds of vegetables in great abundance. Excellent grapes grow
without cultivation, from which the best wine I ever drank, outside of
France, is made. The climate is very healthy, the soil fertile, being
capable of producing anything that will grow in Louisiana, and the
water abundant for all purposes.
The Stage Route Across Texas.
The overland stage from
El Paso passes through a number of small
villages, along the banks of the Rio Grande, until Fort Bliss is
reached.
This country contains some of the finest grazing lands for sheep in
the world. The next place is Fort Quitman, where a large garrison is
stationed, and leaving this, the road passes through a well-timbered
country, abounding in live-oak, cedar, and taskata — a species of pine,
which makes a very intense heat when used for fuel. Eagle Spring, a
short distance from Fort Quitman, takes its name from the immense
number of eagles that build their nests and rear their young in the
rocky cliffs. The scenery here is very beautiful, but it is considered
one of the most dangerous spots on the route, on account of the
opportunities which it offers to the Indians for an effective attack.
Leaving the river, and
making the interior, we were not long in
arriving at about as rough and unpleasant a piece of ground as I ever
travelled over. In this strip of territory, of about thirty miles in
width,
rattlesnakes and horned toads are more abundant than the scorpions
on Scorpion Rock, at St. Thomas.
The Leon Holes, which
our stage next reached, are three in number,
and the water is very brackish. No bottom has ever been found to
them. They say that a freighter, who wished to tighten the tire of a
wheel, threw it into one of these holes, but when he was ready to
start it was not to be seen, having passed completely out of sight.
About seven miles from
the Leon Holes is Fort Stockton, and
beyond that is a station-house, kept by a man who had the reputation
of dishing up for his guest pretty near everything and anything that
could be eaten. The place, however, was neat and clean, and as the
cooking looked inviting, I, being too hungry to be over-fastidious, ate
what was before me, and asked no questions.
We next travelled
through a number of beautiful valleys and over
rolling prairies, abounding in buffaloes, antelopes, and deer, until the
Rio Pecos was reached. This is a bold and muddy stream, and when,
as the stagemen say, it gets on a rampage, it rushes on in a perfect
torrent. The station-keeper at this point was a small man, who
blasphemed enough for six large ones. In spite of his foul language,
however, he was a good housekeeper, and everything about
his place looked nice and in good order.
Our stage now rolled
through one of the richest stock-raising
countries in America — a country which, when the Texas and Pacific
Railroad is built, will certainly be rapidly settled.
The further we now
proceeded the more frequent became the signs
of civilization, and, as with this journey, through a most interesting
but little-known section of the country, was the last of my adventures
that is likely to be of interest to the majority of readers, this seems
to
be a proper place to bring
this narrative to a close. Perhaps my story was worth the telling,
perhaps not — the great public, to whom I have ventured to confide a
plain and unpretentious account of my adventuresome career, will be a
better judge of that than I am. All I claim is, that my conduct, under
the many trying and peculiar circumstances in which I have been
placed, shall be judged with impartiality and candor, and that due
credit shall be given me for integrity of purpose, and a desire to do my
whole duty as I understand it. For the part I took in the great contest
between the South and the North I have no apologies to offer. I did
what I thought to be right; and, while anxious for the good opinion of
all honorable and right-thinking people, a consciousness of the purity
of my motives will be an ample protection against the censure of those
who may be disposed to be censorious.
THE END.
Text Prepared By
- Deangelo Brooks
- Edward Ivory
- Bradley Kaja
- Devon McKinney
- Bruce R. Magee
- Crystal Smart
- Macy Waggoner
Source
Velazquez, Loreta Janeta. The Woman in Battle. Ed. C. J. Worthington. Hartford: T. Belknap, 1876. Internet Archive. 13 Aug. 2009. Web. 15 Jan. 2014.
<https:// archive.org/ details/ woman inbattle nar00vela>.
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