_I take a Trip to the South.--Danger in Memphis.--A Timely Warning.--A
Persistent Barber.--An Unfortunate Memory.--Return to Cincinnati._
Timothy Webster had scarcely departed upon his trip to Memphis, when I
was summoned for consultation with General McClellan. Upon repairing to
his office, which I did immediately on receiving his message, I found
him awaiting my arrival, and in a few minutes I was informed of his
wishes. He was desirous of ascertaining, as definitely as possible, the
general feeling of the people residing South of the Ohio river, in
Kentucky, Tennessee, Mississippi and Louisiana, and requested that
measures be at once taken to carry out his purposes.
It was essentially necessary at the outset to become acquainted with all
the facts that might be of importance hereafter, and no time offered
such opportunities for investigations of this nature as the present,
while the war movement was in its incipiency, and before the lines
between the opposing forces had been so closely drawn as to render
traveling in the disaffected district unsafe, if not utterly impossible.
As this mission was of a character that required coolness and tact, as
well as courage, and as most of my men had been detailed for duties in
other sections of the rebellious country, I concluded to make the
journey myself, and at once stated my intention to the General, who
received it with every evidence of satisfaction and approval.
"The very thing I should have proposed, Major," said he; "and if you
will undertake this matter, I have no fears of a failure, and every
confidence in obtaining important developments."
My action had been prompted by two impelling reasons. The first was the
absence of the men whom I had thus far engaged, and who, as I have
before stated, had been detailed upon missions of investigations in
various parts of the South and West, and the other was a desire to see
for myself the actual condition of affairs as they existed at that time.
I have invariably found that a personal knowledge is far more
satisfactory than that gleamed from others, and whenever it was
possible, I have endeavored to acquire my information by such means.
Another advantage to be derived from a personal observation was that I
would be necessarily forced to rely in many matters to which it would be
impossible for me to devote my personal attention.
Having arranged everything to my satisfaction, in order that my absence
would occasion no disarrangement in the proper conduct of the
investigations already commenced, I left my office in the charge of Mr.
George H. Bangs, my general superintendent, and started upon my journey,
intending to be as rapid in my movements as circumstances would permit,
and to return at as early a date as I could, consistently with the
proper performance of the duties intrusted to me.
My first objective point was the city of Louisville, in Kentucky. The
position of this State at the present time was a peculiar one. Her
Governor, if not a Southern conspirator, was, if his own language was to
be relied upon, both in opinion and expectation, a disunionist. He had
at first remonstrated against the action of the Cotton States, but after
that action had been taken, he was unqualifiedly opposed to coercing
them back to obedience, and in addition to this, he had endeavored to
excite his own people to a resistance to the principles and policy of
the party in power.
The people, however, did not sustain his views, and while the popular
sentiment was deeply pro-slavery, and while her commerce bound her
strongly to the South, the patriotic example and teachings of Henry Clay
had impressed upon them a reverence and love for Union higher and purer
than any mere pressing interests or selfish advantage.
At Louisville, therefore, I found a degree of excitement prevailing that
was naturally to be expected from the unsettled condition of public
affairs. The Governor had refused to comply with the President's call
for troops, and the State had been in a state of hopeless bewilderment
and conflict of opinion in consequence. A strong minority, arrogating to
themselves an undue importance, were endeavoring, by self-assertion and
misapplied zeal, to carry the State into the secession fold, but thus
far they had made no substantial progress against an overwhelming
undercurrent of Union sentiment. Failing in this, their energies were
now devoted to an effort to place the State in a neutral attitude, which
would prevent her from taking a decided stand upon the question of
supporting the Union. Thus far they had been temporarily successful, and
on the 16th day of May the house of representatives passed resolutions
declaring that Kentucky "should during the contest occupy the position
of strict neutrality."
This was the existing condition of affairs when I arrived in Louisville,
and which I found prevalent throughout all the sections of the State I
passed.
Representing myself as a Southern man, a resident of Georgia, I had no
difficulty in engaging in conversation with the prominent men of both
elements, and I decided then, from my own observations, that Kentucky
would not cast her fortunes with the South, but that, after the bubble
of unnatural excitement had burst and expended itself, the loyal heart
would be touched, and "Old Kaintuck" would eventually keep step to the
music of the Union. Results proved that I was not mistaken, and not many
weeks elapsed before Union camps were established within her domain,
and the broad-shouldered Kentuckians were swearing allegiance to the old
flag, and, shouldering their muskets, entered into the contest with a
determination to support the government.
Passing on undisturbed, but everywhere on the alert, and making copious
notes of everything that transpired, that I considered at all material
to the furtherance of the loyal cause, I reached Bowling Green.
At this place I found a very decided Union sentiment, the Stars and
Stripes were floating from the various buildings, and the Union men were
largely in the majority. There was one great cause for disquietude,
however, which was very manifest even to a casual observer. Many
residents of Bowling Green and the vicinity were slave owners, and the
impression had become general throughout the negro communities that the
opening of the war naturally and inevitably involved their freedom, an
opinion, however, without sure foundation, at that time, but which was
eventually to be justified by subsequent events. The slaves had heard
their masters discussing the various questions which naturally grew out
of a conflict of this chance character, and in which it was generally
admitted, that emancipation must follow the commencement and continuance
of hostilities between the two sections. It was not surprising
therefore, that this opinion should spread among the entire colored
element, or that it should be greedily accepted by these down-trodden
blacks as the harbinger of a freedom for which they had been praying. In
conversation with one of the leading men of Bowling Green, I was
thoroughly impressed with the importance of this phase of circumstances.
"Mr. Allen," said he, "you have no idea of the danger we are
apprehending from the blacks. We know that the moment that Lincoln sends
his abolition soldiers among our niggers, they will break out and murder
all before them. Why, sir," continued he, "we cannot sleep sound at
nights for fear of the niggers. They think Lincoln is going to set them
free."
"Why," I interrupted, "what can they know about Lincoln?"
"They know too much about him," he replied; "there has been so much talk
about this matter all through the State, that the niggers know as much
about it as we do."
"You should not talk before your niggers; it is not safe, and I never do
it." As I never owned a negro this was perfectly true.
"I know we should not, but it is too late now; they know as much as we
do, and too much for our safety or peace of mind. Why, sir, we are
compelled to mount guard at nights ourselves for mutual protection, and
though there has been no outbreak as yet, and I believe that this is the
only thing that keeps them in check."
"It would be a good plan," said I, anxious to preserve my reputation as
a Southern pro-slavery man, "to take all the men and boys over fifteen
years of age and sell them South."
"That's the devil of it," he replied, "we cannot do that; it was tried
only last week, and a nigger that I was offered $1,500 for last year, I
could not sell at any price."
Already, it seemed, the fruits of the slavery agitation were being made
apparent. The very institution for which these misguided men were
periling their lives, and sacrificing their fortunes, was threatened
with demolition; and the slaves who had so long and so often felt the
lash of their masters, were now becoming a source of fear to the very
men who had heretofore held them in such utter subjection.
This state of affairs I found to be prevalent all over the country which
I visited. Bright visions of freedom danced before the eyes of the
slaves, and they awaited anxiously the dawning of the day, when the
coming of the soldiers of the North would strike from their limbs the
shackles they had worn so long. In the after years of this bloody
struggle, many deeds of self-sacrifice were performed by these slaves,
when, resisting the dazzling opportunities to obtain their coveted
liberty, they cast their lot with the families of their old masters,
whose male members were fighting to continue their bondage. Many cases
could be cited where, but for the faithful labors and devotion of the
despised slave, the families of many of the proud aristocrats would have
starved. But the faithful heart of the negro ever beat warmly for those
whom he had served so long, and disregarding the tempting allurements of
freedom, he devoted himself to the service and to the maintenance of
those who had regarded him as so much merchandise, or simply as a beast
of burden.
At Bowling Green I purchased a splendid bay horse, whose swiftness and
powers of endurance I felt assured could be relied upon, intending to
make the rest of my journey on horseback. By this means I would be the
better able to control my movements than if I were compelled to depend
upon the railroads for transportation. I would also be enabled to stop
at any place where I might find the necessity, or a favorable
opportunity for observation. I had no cause to regret the purchase I had
made, for right nobly did the spirited animal which I had selected
perform the arduous duties that were imposed upon him. Day after day he
would be urged forward, and under his flying feet the distance sped away
almost imperceptibly, and each morning found my charger rested and
refreshed, and ready for the day's journey, be the weather fair or foul,
or the roads easy or rugged.
I reached Nashville, Tennessee, in due season, and resolved to devote
several days to my investigations. Here the disunion element was more
united and outspoken, but even here, I detected evidences of a Union
sentiment which was none the less profound, because of the danger which
its utterances would have incurred. There could be no doubt that this
State had resolved to cast her fortunes with the confederacy, and the
rebel General Pillow had been for some time engaged in fortifying the
city of Memphis. At Nashville I met a number of officers of the rebel
army, all of whom were full of enthusiasm, and whose bombastic
utterances in view of the eventual results, seem at this time almost too
absurd to be repeated. Here also I came in contact with an army surgeon,
whose head was full of wild _Quixotic_ schemes for destroying the
Northern armies by other processes than that of legitimate warfare. One
of his plans I remember was to fill a commissary wagon with whisky, in
which had been previously mixed a generous quantity of strychnine. The
wagon was then to be broken and abandoned and left upon the road so as
to fall into the hands of the Union soldiers. Of course, the liquor
would be consumed by the finders, and the valiant Doctor, with evident
satisfaction to himself, but to the equally evident disgust of his
companions, loudly vaunted his death-dealing and barbarous scheme. This
brave warrior, however, I learned afterward, had fled in terror at the
first fire, and was afterwards dishonorably dismissed from the service
he was so well calculated to disgrace. So far as I was afterward able to
learn, this grand project for wholesale slaughter, of the valorous
Doctor, received no sympathy or support from his more honorable
associates, and the soldiers were enabled to drink their whiskey
untainted with any other poisonous influences than is naturally a part
of its composition.
Leaving Nashville, I spurred on in the direction of Memphis, and in due
time reached the city, which now presented a far different aspect than
when I visited it only a few years before. Then the country was at
peace. The war cloud had not burst with all its fury over a happy land,
and the people were quietly pursuing their avocations. I was engaged in
a detective operation which required my presence in the city, and had
been in consultation with some of the express company's officials, for
whom I was attempting to discover the perpetrators of a robbery of one
of their safes. Turning a corner I came upon a scene that stirred my
feelings to the utmost.
It was the market square, and the merchandise disposed of were human
beings. There was the auction-block and the slave-pen. Men, women and
children were being knocked down to the highest bidder. Wives were sold
away from their husbands, and children from their parents. Old and young
were submitted to the vulgar speculators in flesh and blood, and their
value was approximated by their apparent age, strength and
healthfulness. My blood boiled in my veins as I witnessed, for the first
time, the heart-rendering scenes which I had only heard or read of
before. The cold cruelty of the buyers and abject misery of the sold,
filled me with a spirit of opposition to this vile traffic that gave me
renewed strength to fulfill my duty as an active abolitionist, and to
labor earnestly in the cause of emancipation. I shall never forget the
events of that day, and I can recall the feeling of intense satisfaction
which I experienced on my second visit, when even then, I could see the
dawning of that liberty for which I had labored, and I knew that the day
of emancipation could not be far distant. Then the fair fame of
independent America would no longer be blackened by the pressure of the
slave or the master, but all men under the protection of the starry
banner would be free and equal under the law.
Now the streets were filled with soldiers, some of them fully armed and
equipped, and others provided with but ordinary clothing, and furnished
with such inefficient arms as they had brought with them from their
homes. A most motley gathering they were, and their awkward and
irregular evolutions at this time gave but little promise of the
splendid army of which they were destined in the near future to form so
important a part. The work of fortifying the city had been progressing
in earnest; earthworks had been thrown up all along the banks of the
Mississippi, and batteries were already in position, whose guns frowned
threateningly upon the river.
Here to be known or suspected as a Union man was to merit certain death,
and to advocate any theory of compromise between the two sections was to
be exiled from the city. Here rebeldom was rampant and defiant, and I
had some difficulty in evading the suspicions of the watchful and alert
Southron, who regarded all strange civilians with doubtful scrutiny, and
whose "committee of safety" were ever on the _qui vive_ to detect those
whose actions savored in the least of a leaning towards the North.
Fearlessly, however, I mingled with these men, and as I lost no
opportunity in pronouncing my views upon the righteousness of the cause
of secession, and of my belief in its certain triumph, I obtained a
ready passport to the favor and confidence of the most prominent of
their leaders. I talked unreservedly with the private soldier and the
general officer, with the merchant and the citizen, and by all was
regarded as a stanch Southern man, whose interests and sympathies were
wedded to rebellion.
General Pillow was in command at this point, and almost every citizen
was enrolled as a soldier, whose services would be cheerfully and
promptly rendered whenever the call should be made upon them.
Even this redoubtable chieftain was not proof against my blandishments,
and he little dreamed when on one occasion he quietly sipped his brandy
and water with me, that he was giving valuable information to his sworn
foe, and one to whom every idea gained was an advantage to the
government he was attempting to destroy.
It is needless to relate the valuable items of information which I was
enabled to glean upon this journey--information which in later days was
of vast importance to the Union commanders, but which at this time would
only burden a narrative of the events which they so ably assisted to
successful results.
Here, as in many other places, I found that my best source of
information was the colored men, who were employed in various capacities
of a military nature which entailed hard labor. The slaves, without
reserve, were sent by their masters to perform the manual labor of
building earthworks and fortifications, in driving the teams and in
transporting cannon and ammunition, and, led by my natural and
deep-seated regard for these sable bondsmen, I mingled freely with them,
and found them ever ready to answer questions and to furnish me with
every fact which I desired to possess.
Here and there I found an unassuming white man whose heart was still
with the cause of the Union, but whose active sympathy could not at this
time be of service to the country, as he dared not utter a voice in
defense of his opinions. From all these sources, however, I was
successful in posting myself fully in regard to the movements and
intentions of the rebel authorities and officers, and, as I believed,
had also succeeded in concealing my identity.
[Illustration: "_Fo' God, Massa Allen, ye'll be a dead man in de
mo'nin'!_" P. 195.]
On the third evening of my sojourn in Memphis, however, my dreams of
fancied security were suddenly dispelled, and I was brought face to face
with the reality of danger.
I had retired early to my room, according to my general custom, and had
scarcely been seated when I was disturbed by a faint but quick and
distinct knocking at my door. I arose hastily, as it was something
unusual for me to receive visitors after I had retired, and throwing
open the door, I was somewhat surprised to see, standing before me, in a
state of unmistakable excitement, the colored porter of the hotel.
Before I had time to question him, he sprang into the room and closed
the door behind him. His countenance evinced a degree of terror that
immediately filled me with alarm. His eyes were fixed wildly upon me,
his lips were quivering, and his knees trembled under him, as though
unable to sustain the weight of his body. Indeed, so frightened was he,
that he appeared to be struggling forcibly to do so.
"What is the matter, Jem?" I inquired, in as calm a tone as I could
assume, and with a view of reassuring him. "What has happened to
frighten you so?"
"'Fore God, Massa Allen," ejaculated the black, succeeding by a great
effort in finding his voice, "you done can't sleep in this housn
to-night, ef ye do, ye'll be a dead man before morning."
As may be imagined, this information was not of a very agreeable nature,
indefinite as it was; I felt assured that my informant could be relied
on that something had occurred to endanger my safety, and I became
impatient to learn what he knew.
"Out with it, Jem," said I, "and let me know what it is all about." I
spoke cheerfully and confidently, and the coolness of my manner had the
effect of restoring the equilibrium of my sable friend, and, recovering
himself with an effort, he began to explain:
"I tell you what it is, Massa Allen, and I'se gwan to tell it mighty
quick. Ye see, de General hab got a lot of spies up de river at Cairo, a
watching of the Linkum sogers, and one o' dem fellows jes came in as you
were going up stairs. De berry minit dat he seed you he said to de man
what was wid him, 'Dat man is 'spicious; I seed him in Cincinnati two
weeks ago, and he ain't down here for no good,' and he started right off
for de General, to tell him all about it. I kem right up heah, massa,
and you must git away as fast as ye can."
This was too important to be ignored. I had no desire to be captured at
that time, and I had no doubt of the correctness of the porter's story.
I resolved to act at once upon the suggestion, and to make good my
escape before it was too late. My admonitory friend was fearfully in
earnest about getting me away, and he quickly volunteered to procure my
horse, which I had quartered in close proximity to the hotel, and to
furnish me with a guide who would see me safely through the lines and
outside of the city. Bidding Jem make all possible haste in his
movements, I gathered together my few belongings, and in a few minutes I
descended the stairs and made my exit through the rear of the house.
Through the faithfulness of Jem, and the careful guidance of the
watchful negro he had provided me with, I was soon riding away from
threatened danger and ere morning broke I had proceeded far upon my way.
How much service these faithful blacks had been to me, I did not fully
learn until some time afterwards, when I was informed by Timothy
Webster, who arrived in Memphis following my departure, and who thus
learned the full particulars of the exhausting pursuit of one of
Lincoln's spies, who had mysteriously disappeared from the chief hotel,
while a guard was being detailed to effect his arrest.
I met the faithful Jem several years later, when he had worked his way
as a refugee from his native State and entered the Union lines in
Virginia, and he was soon afterwards attached to my force, where he
proved his devotion in a manner that was quite convincing. My faithful
steed, who had become thoroughly rested after his long journey, bore me
safely through this danger, and in due time I entered the State of
Mississippi. Here rebellion and disunion were the order of the day, and
a widespread determination existed to fight the cause of the South to
the bitter end. Stopping one night at Grenada, I pushed on my way to
Jackson, and here I resolved to remain a day or two, in order to make a
thorough investigation of the place and its surroundings.
Putting up my horse, I engaged quarters for myself at the principal
hotel in the city, and feeling very much fatigued with my long journey,
I retired early to my room and passed a long night in refreshing sleep.
In the morning I arose about five o'clock, as is my general custom. I
was feeling in excellent health and spirits; my journey had thus far
been fully as successful as I could have desired; and safely concealed
about my person I had items of value that would amply repay me for the
fatigues I had undergone and the dangers I had passed. I had plans of
the roads, a description of the country, a pretty correct estimate of
the troops and their various locations and conditions, and altogether I
felt very well satisfied with myself and with the results of my mission.
As I descended the stairs, I noticed a fine soldierly officer standing
in the doorway, and after bidding him a hearty good-morning, I invited
him to accompany me to the saloon of the hotel, where we mutually
indulged in a decoction as is the universal custom in Southern cities.
After I had obtained my breakfast, it occurred to me that, before
attempting any active measures for the day, I owed it to myself to
procure the services of a barber for a much-needed shave. I had been
traveling for a number of days, and my face had been a stranger to a
razor for a long time, and I concluded I would be more presentable if I
consulted a tonsorial artist.
This was an unfortunate idea, and I soon had occasion to regret having
entertained it for a moment. I would have been far more contented if I
had bestowed no thoughts upon my grizzled beard, and allowed nature to
take its course with my hirsute appendage.
Entirely unconscious, however, of what was in store for me, I entered
the well-fitted saloon of the hotel, and patiently waited my turn to
submit myself to the deft fingers of the knight of the razor.
In response to the universal and well-understood call of "next!" I took
my seat in the luxuriously upholstered chair, and in a few minutes my
face was covered with the foamy lather applied by the dapper little
German into whose hands I had fallen.
I noticed when I sat down that the man wore a puzzled and speculative
look, as though he was struggling with some vexing lapse of memory, and
as he drew the keen edge of the razor across my face, his eyes were
fixed intensely upon my features. His manner annoyed me considerably,
and I was at a loss to account for his strange demeanor. Whatever ideas
I may have entertained with regard to this singular action were,
however, soon set at rest, only to give place to a feeling of unrestful
anger.
He had just cleared one side of my face of its stubby growth of hair,
when a smile irradiated his face, and with a look of self-satisfied
recognition and pride, he addressed me:
"Vy, how do you do, Mr. Bingerdon?"
Had a thunderbolt fallen at my feet I could not have been more perfectly
amazed, and for a moment I could scarcely tell whether I was afoot or on
horseback. I devoutly wished that I was anywhere than with this Dutch
barber, whose memory was so uncomfortably retentive.
I had been too accustomed to sudden surprises, however, to lose my
self-control, and I replied to him, with an unmoved face and as stern a
voice as I could command:
"I am not Mr. Bingerdon, and I don't know the man."
"Oh yes, your name is Bingerdon, and you leev in Geecago."
The face of the German was so good-natured, and he appeared quite
delighted at recognizing me, but for myself I was feeling very
uncomfortable indeed. I did not know the man, nor what he knew of me. I
knew, however, that he was perfectly right about my identity, and I knew
also that it would be very dangerous for his knowledge to become
general.
"I tell you I don't know the man you are speaking of," said I, sternly.
[Illustration: "_If you say another word to me, I'll whip you on the
spot._" P. 201.]
"Oy, Mr. Bingerdon," he replied, in a grieved tone, "I know you well.
Don't you mind me shaving you in the Sherman House in Geecago, you was a
customer of mine."
The pertinacity of the man was simply exasperating, and fearing that his
memory would be likely to get me into trouble, as several people were
listening to our conversation, I resolved to end the difficulty at once.
Jerking the towel from around my neck and wiping the lather from the
unshaved portion of my face, I leapt from the chair, exclaiming angrily:
"I tell you I know nothing of you Mr. Bingerdon, or any other d----d
Yankee abolitionist, and if you say another word to me upon this
subject, I'll whip you on the spot!"
The barber presented a most ridiculous appearance; he was utterly
frightened at my manner, and yet so convinced was he that I was the man
he took me for, that he appeared more amazed at my denial, than at my
threats of violence.
Meanwhile, the occupants of the saloon began to crowd around us, and
several came in from the adjoining rooms. Turning to them with
well-simulated anger, I told them the story I had invented; I lived near
Augusta, Georgia; never was in Chicago, did not know Mr. Pinkerton or
any of his gang. Then I denounced the discomfited barber in round terms,
and finished by inviting the entire crowd to take a drink with me.
This they all did with alacrity, and by the time they had drained their
glasses, every one of the party were strong adherents of mine. We then
returned to the barber-shop, and so thoroughly was the crowd convinced
of my truthfulness, that they were eager to punish the innocent occasion
of my anger. One impetuous individual wanted to hang him on sight, and
his proposition was received with general favor; but finding I had
succeeded in evading detection for myself, I interfered in the poor
fellow's behalf and he was finally let off.
After another drink all round I managed to get away from the party, and
it was not long before I was upon my horse, and traveling away from the
possibility of a recurrence of such an accidental discovery. I procured
a razor and shaving materials, and performed that operation for myself,
as I did not care to excite curiosity by exhibiting my half-shaved face
to any more inquisitive barbers.
A few miles outside of the town I sold my horse, and concluding that I
had obtained as much information as was desirable at that time, and as I
had already been absent from headquarters longer than I had intended, I
made my way back to Cincinnati by a circuitous route, and reached there
in safety, well pleased with my work, and quite rejoiced to find that
General McClellan was fully satisfied with what I had learned.