THE CROWNING HORROR.
The event described in this chapter will never be effaced from the
memory of any witness. Nothing more terrible or more gratuitously
barbarous is recorded in the annals of civilized war. The seven men of
whose death I am now to write were all young,--from eighteen to
twenty-five. With good prospects, and well connected, they had entered
the army at the bidding of patriotism, ready to endure every peril to
insure the triumph of the old flag. Their only offence, when stripped of
all technicality, was that of accepting a dangerous service proposed by
their own officers. They had entered on this service in the same spirit
that they would have obeyed an order to head a desperate charge on the
enemy's fortifications. Had they perished in the enterprise itself,
their fate would have been but the common fortune of war. But more than
two months had passed since they had been in the power of their enemies,
who had repeatedly testified admiration for their heroism, as well as
for their gallant bearing in captivity. Prominent officers had held
friendly conversations with them and assured them of ultimate safety.
Now, without a moment's warning----. But I must not anticipate the
narration.
One day--the 18th of June, 1862--while amusing ourselves with games and
stories in our prison-cell, we saw through the barred window a squadron
of cavalry approaching. This only excited a languid curiosity at first,
for it was a common thing to see bodies of horsemen in the streets; but
soon we saw them halt before the gate of the high prison-wall and throw
a line of soldiers completely round the building. This was no ordinary
occurrence. What could it portend?
A moment after we heard the clink of the officers' swords as they
ascended the prison stairway in unusual numbers, while we waited the
event with deep solicitude. They paused at our door, which was unlocked
by the jailer, and the names of the seven who had been tried at
Knoxville were called over, one by one, and each man as he was called
led out of the room. Samuel Robinson was very sick with fever, and was
not able to rise without assistance, but two guards helped him to his
feet, and he was taken out with the others. Then the door opposite to
ours, on the other side of the hall, was opened, and the Tennesseeans in
that room put with us, while our comrades, with the whole number of
officers, went into the vacated room, and the door was closed.
With throbbing veins we asked one another the meaning of these strange
proceedings. A confused sound was heard through the closed door
opposite, as of some one reading, but we could distinguish no words.
Some of us supposed they were taken in there to receive their acquittal;
others, still more sanguine, maintained that they were now being
paroled, preparatory to an exchange.
I was also suffering with malarial fever at that time, but rose to my
feet oppressed with a nameless fear. A half-idiotic man who was among
the Tennessee prisoners came to me and wanted to play a game of cards. I
struck the greasy pack out of his hands, and bade him leave me.
Our terrible suspense was not of long duration. The door opened and
George D. Wilson entered first, his hands and arms firmly bound, and his
face pale as death, but with form erect and firm step. Some one asked in
a whisper a solution of the dreadful mystery, for his countenance had
appalled every one.
"_We are to be executed immediately!_" was the awful reply, whispered
with thrilling distinctness.
Behind him came the others, all tied, ready for the scaffold! They were
to be hanged at once. Not a day nor an hour was given for preparation.
From their hopefulness and fancied security they were snatched in a
moment to die as felons! Surely no rule of war, no military necessity,
no consideration of policy, required such frightful and murderous haste.
I have never heard a word in defence of this military massacre. Even
Andrews, our leader, was given a week for preparation before the
execution of his sentence. The most atrocious criminals are always
allowed a short respite. For a long time I cherished the belief that
some misunderstanding of orders, some terrible error, and not deliberate
cruelty, led to this frightful haste. But the following death-sentence
seems to leave no room for doubt. In the very centre of the Confederacy,
with hundreds of troops at their disposal for guards, there could have
been no military necessity for hurling these poor men into eternity
without one hour's warning!
The following is a literal copy of the death-sentence read to the doomed
men during the few minutes they were separated from us:
"HEADQUARTERS DEPARTMENT EAST TENNESSEE,
"KNOXVILLE, June 14, 1862.
"_General Orders, No. 54. VII._
"At a general court-martial held at Knoxville by virtue of
General Orders Nos. 21 and 34 (Department Headquarters, April
15 and May 10, 1862), whereof Lieutenant-Colonel J. B. Bibb, of
the Twenty-third Regiment Alabama Volunteers, was president,
was tried George D. Wilson, private Company 'B,' Second Ohio
Regiment, on the following charge and specifications, to wit:
"_Charge._--Violation of Section 2d of the 101st Article of the
Rules and Articles of War.
"_Specification 1st._--In this, that the said George D. Wilson,
private Company 'B,' Second Ohio Regiment, not owing allegiance
to the Confederate States of America, and being in the service
and army of the United States, then and now at war with the
Confederate States of America, did, on or about the 7th day of
April, 1862, leave the army of the United States, then lying
near Shelbyville, Tennessee, and with a company of about twenty
other soldiers of the United States army, all dressed in
citizen's clothes, repair to Chattanooga, Tennessee, entering
covertly within the lines of the Confederate forces at that
post, and did thus, on or about the 11th day of April, 1862,
lurk as a spy in and about the encampment of said forces,
representing himself as a citizen of Kentucky going to join the
Southern army.
"_Specification 2d._--And the said George D. Wilson, private
Company 'B,' Second Ohio Regiment, U.S.A., thus dressed in
citizen's clothes, and representing himself as a citizen of
Kentucky going to join the Southern army, and did proceed by
railroad to Marietta, Georgia,--thus covertly pass through the
lines of the Confederate forces stationed at Chattanooga,
Dalton, and Camp McDonald, and did thus, on or about the 11th
day of April, 1862, lurk as a spy in and about the said
encampments of the Confederate forces at the places stated
aforesaid.
"To which charge and specifications the prisoner plead 'Not
Guilty.'
"The court, after mature deliberation, find the accused as
follows: Of the 1st specification of the charge, 'Guilty.' Of
the 2d specification of the charge, 'Guilty,' and 'Guilty of
the Charge.' And the court do therefore sentence the accused,
the said George D. Wilson, private Company 'B,' Second Ohio
Regiment (two-thirds of the members concurring therein), as
soon as this order shall be made public, 'to be hung by the
neck until he is dead.'
"The proceedings in the foregoing case of George D. Wilson,
private Company 'B,' Second Ohio Regiment, are approved.
"The sentence of the court will be carried into effect between
the 15th and 22d days of June, inst., at such time and place as
may be designated by the commanding officer at Atlanta,
Georgia, who is charged with the arrangements for the proper
execution thereof.
"By command of
"Major-General E. KIRBY SMITH.
"J. F. BRETON, A.A.A.G.
"To Commanding Officer of post at Atlanta, Ga."
It will be noticed that the sentence was to be executed as soon as made
public. The time fixed was between the 15th and 22d days of June. This
was the 18th. The sentence had been received the preceding day, and the
time employed in clearing a spot of wooded ground then lying east of the
city cemetery, but since included in its bounds, and in erecting a
scaffold there. But no word of the awful preparations had been allowed
to reach us. According to the orders of General E. Kirby Smith, several
days' respite might have been allowed; but in a communication to the
Confederate Secretary of War, Colonel G. I. Foreacre, post-commander at
Atlanta, says, "General Smith only sent from Knoxville instructions and
orders to have seven of them hung, which was promptly attended to by
myself."
After the sentences had been read came the farewells,--which, in their
full meaning, we could scarcely realize,--farewells with no hope of
meeting again in this world! Our comrades were dear as brothers to us,
and to stand helpless while they were dragged away to the scaffold froze
our blood and crushed our hearts.
These doomed men were brave. On the battle-field they had never faltered
in the presence of danger. They were ready to die, if need were, for
their country; but to die on the scaffold,--to die as murderers
die,--this was almost too much for human nature to endure.
Then, too, they were destitute of the best support a man can have in the
presence of death. Although most of them had been of excellent moral
character, yet they had no firmly-grounded religious hope. The near
prospect of eternity, into which they were thus to be hurled without a
moment's preparation, was black and appalling. Wilson had been a
professed disbeliever in revelation, and many a time had argued with me
for hours at a time. But in this awful moment he said to me, "Pittenger,
I believe you are right now! Oh, try to be better prepared, when your
turn comes to die, than I am!" Then laying his hand on my head, with a
muttered "God bless you!" we parted. I saw no more the one I had loved
and trusted as few others in the world.
Shadrack was profane in speech and reckless in action, but withal
exceeding kind-hearted, lovable, and always merry. Now turning to us
with a voice the forced calmness of which was more affecting than a wail
of agony, he said, "Boys, I am not prepared to meet my Jesus." When
asked by some of us, in tears, to trust in His mercy, and to think of
heaven, he answered, still in tones of thrilling calmness, "I'll try!
I'll try! But I know I am not prepared."
Samuel Slavens, who was a man of immense strength and iron resolution,
turned to his friend Buffum, and could only articulate,
"Wife--children--tell--" when utterance failed.
John Scott had been married only three days before he came to the army,
and the thought of his young and sorrowing wife nearly drove him to
despair. He could only clasp his hands in silent agony.
William Campbell smiled grimly as we pressed his bound hands, and said
in response to our declarations, "Yes, boys, this _is_ hard."
Marion Ross bore himself most firmly of all. He had been more gloomy and
depressed than any other member of the party previously, and did not
seem to share fully in our hopes. Now his eyes beamed with unnatural
light, and there was not a tremor in his voice as he said, in full,
clear tones, "Tell them at home, if any of you should escape, that I
died for my country, and did not regret it."
These parting words occupied but a moment, and even then the officers
standing in the door seemed impatient to finish their horrible work!
In this manner the poor men were hurried to their doom. Several of them,
in passing, had the privilege of shaking hands with our comrades in the
other room. Robinson, though too sick to walk, was dragged away with
them.
Thus we parted. The rough wagon, with a wood-rack for a bed, drove off
with our comrades, surrounded by cavalry. In about an hour it came back,
_empty_. The deed of shame was done.
Later in the evening the provost-marshal came to our door, and, in
response to eager questions, informed us that our friends "had met their
fate as brave men should die everywhere."
The next day we obtained from the guards, who, in the absence of their
officers, were always willing to talk with us, full particulars of the
sevenfold murder.
When all had been mounted on the scaffold Wilson asked permission to say
a few words, which was granted,--probably in the hope of hearing some
kind of a confession. If such was the expectation, they were much
disappointed. It was a strange scene,--a dying speech to a desperate
audience, and under the most terrible circumstances conceivable.
But Wilson was equal to the occasion, and when he had once begun to
speak, the force of his words was such that the mob remained silent,
making no attempt to interrupt him. Unterrified by the near approach of
death, he spoke his mind freely. He told the rebels that they were all
in the wrong, that he had no hard feelings towards the Southern people
for what they were about to do, because they had been duped by their
leaders, and induced by them to engage in the work of rebellion. He also
said that though he had been condemned as a spy, yet he was none, and
they well knew it. He was only a soldier in the performance of the work
he had been detailed to do; that he did not regret to die for his
country, but only regretted the manner of his death. He concluded by
assuring them in prophetic words that they would yet live to regret the
part they had taken in this rebellion, and would see the flag of our
country wave in triumph over the very ground occupied by his scaffold.
This address made a deep impression on the minds of all who listened,
and I often afterwards heard it spoken of in terms of deepest
admiration. When he ceased the signal was given, and the traps fell!
Then followed one of the disgusting exhibitions which so often disgrace
all kinds of public executions. Five only remained dangling in the air.
Campbell and Slavens, being very heavy, broke their ropes, and fell to
the ground insensible. When they revived, they asked and received a
drink of water. Then they requested an hour to pray before entering the
future world. This most reasonable petition, which would not have been
denied to the most hardened murderer under civilized rule, was sternly
denied, as if they wished to do their utmost to murder both soul and
body. As soon as the ropes could be readjusted they were compelled to
mount the scaffold once more, and were again turned off.