[A Transcribers' Note follows the text.]
[Illustration: _Photo by Brady._ _Eng^d by Geo E Perine N.Y._
Albert D. Richardson]
THE
SECRET SERVICE,
THE FIELD, THE DUNGEON,
AND
THE ESCAPE.
"Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances,
Of moving accidents, by flood and field;
Of hairbreadth 'scapes i' the imminent deadly breach;
Of being taken by the insolent foe,
And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence."
OTHELLO.
BY
ALBERT D. RICHARDSON,
TRIBUNE CORRESPONDENT.
Hartford, Conn.,
AMERICAN PUBLISHING COMPANY.
JONES BROS. & CO., PHILADELPHIA, PA., AND CINCINNATI, OHIO.
R. C. TREAT, CHICAGO, ILL.
1865.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865,
BY ALBERT D. RICHARDSON,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for
the District of Connecticut.
TO
Her Memory
WHO WAS NEAREST AND DEAREST,
WHOSE LIFE WAS FULL OF BEAUTY AND OF PROMISE,
THIS VOLUME
IS TENDERLY INSCRIBED.
List of Illustrations.
I.--PORTRAIT OF THE AUTHOR Facing Title-page.
II.--A GROUP OF ARMY CORRESPONDENTS: Facing page 17
Portraits of Messrs.
Charles C. Coffin, Boston _Journal_;
Junius H. Browne, New York _Tribune_;
Thomas W. Knox, New York _Herald_;
Richard T. Colburn, New York _World_;
L. L. Crounse, New York _Times_;
William E. Davis, Cincinnati _Gazette_, and
William D. Bickham, Cincinnati _Commercial_
III.--THE MISSISSIPPI CONVENTION VIEWED BY A Opposite page 83
TRIBUNE CORRESPONDENT
IV.--OPENING OF THE BATTLE OF ANTIETAM.--GENERAL Opposite page 281
HOOKER
V.--FACSIMILE OF AN AUTOGRAPH LETTER OF PRESIDENT page 321
LINCOLN
VI.--THE CAPTURE, WHILE RUNNING THE REBEL BATTERIES Opposite page 343
AT VICKSBURG
VII.--INTERIOR VIEW OF A HOSPITAL IN THE SALISBURY Opposite page 415
PRISON
VIII.--THE MASSACRE OF UNION PRISONERS ATTEMPTING Opposite page 419
TO ESCAPE FROM SALISBURY, NORTH CAROLINA
IX.--ESCAPING PRISONERS FED BY NEGROES IN THEIR Opposite page 441
MASTER'S BARN
X.--FORDING A STREAM Opposite page 471
XI.--"THE NAMELESS HEROINE" PILOTING THE ESCAPING Opposite page 501
PRISONERS OUT OF A REBEL AMBUSH
CONTENTS.
I.--THE SECRET SERVICE.
CHAPTER I. 17
Going South in the Secret Service.--Instructions from
the Managing Editor.--A Visit to the Mammoth Cave of
Kentucky.--Nashville, Tennessee.--Alabama Unionists.--How
the State was Precipitated into the Rebellion.--Reaching
Memphis.--Abolitionists Mobbed and Hanged.--Brutalities of
Slavery.
CHAPTER II. 31
In Memphis.--How the Secessionists Carried the Day.--Aims
of the Leading Rebels.--On the Railroad.--A Northerner
Warned.--An Amusing Dialogue.--Talk about Assassinating
President Lincoln.--Arrival in New Orleans.--Hospitality
from a Stranger.--An Ovation to General Twiggs.--Braxton
Bragg.--The Rebels Anxious for War.--A Glance at the
Louisiana Convention.
CHAPTER III. 43
Association with Leading Secessionists.--Their Hatred of
New England.--Admission to the Democratic Club.--Abuse of
President Lincoln.--Sinking Buildings, Cellars and Walls
Impossible.--Cemeteries above Ground.--Monument of a
Pirate.--Canal Street.--The Great French Markets.--Dedication
of a Secession Flag in the Catholic Church.--The Cotton
Presses.--Visit to the Jackson Battle-ground.--The
Creoles.--Jackson's Head-Quarters.--A Fire in the
Rear.--A Life Saved by a Cigar.--A Black Republican
Flag.--Vice-President Hamlin a Mulatto.--Northerners leaving
the South.
CHAPTER IV. 57
How Letters were Written and Transmitted.--A System of
Cipher.--A Philadelphian among the Rebels.--Probable fate
of a _Tribune_ Correspondent, if Discovered.--Southern
Manufactures.--A Visit to a Southern Shoe Factory.--Where
the Machinery and Workmen came from.--How Southern Shoes
were Made.--Study of Southern Society.--Report of a
Slave Auction.--Sale of a White Woman.--Girls on the
Block.--Husbands and Wives Separated.--A most Revolting
Spectacle.--The Delights of a Tropical Climate.
CHAPTER V. 71
A Northerner among the Minute Men.--Louisiana Convention.--A
Lively Discussion.--Boldness of the Union Members.--Another
Exciting Discussion.--Secessionists Repudiate their Own
Doctrines.--Despotic Rebel Theories.--The Northwest
to Join the Rebels.--The Great Swamp.--A Trip through
Louisiana.--_The Tribune_ Correspondent Invited to a Seat in
the Mississippi Convention.
CHAPTER VI. 81
The Mississippi State-House.--View of the Rebel
Hall.--Its General Air of Dilapidation.--A Free-and-Easy
Convention.--Southern Orators.--The Anglo-African
Delegate.--A Speech Worth Preserving.--Familiar Conversation
of Members.--New Orleans Again.--Reviewing Troops.--New
Orleans Again.--Hatred of Southern Unionists.--Three
Obnoxious Northerners.--The Attack on Sumter.--Rebel Bravado.
CHAPTER VII. 91
Abolition Tendencies of Kentuckians.--Fundamental
Grievances of the Rebels.--Sudden Departure from New
Orleans.--Mobile.--The War Spirit High.--An Awkward
Encounter.--"Massa, Fort Sumter has gone Up."--Bells
Ringing.--Cannon Booming.--Up the Alabama River.--A
Dancing Little Darkey.--How to Escape Suspicion.--Southern
Characteristics and Provincialism.--Visit to the Confederate
Capital.--At Montgomery, Alabama.--Copperas Breeches _vs._
Black Breeches.--A Correspondent under Arrest.
CHAPTER VIII. 105
A Journey Through Georgia.--Excitement of the
People.--Washington to be Captured.--Apprehensions about
Arming the Negroes.--A Fatal Question.--Charleston.--Looking
at Fort Sumter.--A Short Stay in the City.--North
Carolina.--The Country on Fire.--Submitting to Rebel
Scrutiny.--The North Heard From.--Richmond, Virginia.--The
Frenzy of the People.--Up the Potomac.--The Old Flag Once
More.--An Hour with President Lincoln.--Washington in
Panic.--A Regiment which Came Out to Fight.--Baltimore
under Rebel Rule.--Pennsylvania.--The North fully
Aroused.--Uprising of the whole People.--A _Tribune_
Correspondent on Trial in Charleston.--He is Warned to
Leave.--His Fortunate Escape
II.--THE FIELD.
CHAPTER IX. 125
Sunday at Niagara Falls.--View from the Suspension
Bridge.--The Palace of the Frost King.--Chicago, a
City Rising from the Earth.--Mysteries of Western
Currency.--A Horrible Spectacle in Arkansas.--Patriotism
of the Northwest.--Missouri.--The Rebels bent on
Revolution.--Nathaniel Lyon.--Camp Jackson.--Sterling Price
Joins the Rebels.--His Quarrel with Frank Blair.--His
Personal Character.--St. Louis in a Convulsion.--A Nashville
Experience.--Bitterness of Old Neighbors.--Good Soldiers for
Scaling Walls.--Wholesome Advice to Missouri Slaveholders
CHAPTER X. 141
Cairo, Illinois.--A Visit from General McClellan.--A little
Speech-making.--Penalty of Writing for _The Tribune_.--A
Unionist Aided to Escape from Memphis by a Loyal Girl.--The
Fascinations of Cairo.--The Death of Douglas.--A Clear-headed
Contraband.--A Review of the Troops.--"Not a Fighting Nigger,
but a Running Nigger."--Capture of a Rebel Flag
CHAPTER XI. 151
Missouri Again.--The Retributions of Time.--A Railroad
Reminiscence.--Jefferson City.--A Fugitive Governor.--"Black
Republicanism."--Belligerent Chaplain.--A Rebel Newspaper
Converted by the Iowa Soldiers.--Two Camp Stories of the
Marvelous
CHAPTER XII. 157
Chicago.--Corn, not Cotton, is King.--Curious Reminiscences
of the City.--A Visit to the Grave of Douglas.--Patriotism of
the Northwestern Germans.--Their Social Habits.--Cincinnati
in the Early Days.--A City Founded by a Woman.--The
Aspirations of the Cincinnatian.--Kentucky.--Treason and
Loyalty in Louisville.--A Visit to George D. Prentice.--The
first Union Troops of Kentucky.--Struggle in the Kentucky
Legislature.--What the Rebel Leaders Want.--Rousseau's
Visit to Washington.--His Interview with President
Lincoln.--Timidity of the Kentucky Unionists.--Loyalty of
Judge Lusk.
CHAPTER XIII. 173
Western Virginia.--Campaigning in the Kanawha Valley.--A
Bloodthirsty Female Rebel.--A Soldier Proves to be a Woman
in Disguise.--Extravagant Joy of the Negroes.--How the
Soldiers Foraged.--The Falls of the Kanawha.--A Tragedy of
Slavery.--St. Louis.--The Future of the City.--A disgusted
Rebel Editor.
CHAPTER XIV. 181
The Battle of Wilson Creek.--Daring Exploit of a
Kansas Officer.--Death of Lyon.--His Courage and
Patriotism.--Arrival of General Fremont.--Union Families
Driven Out.--An Involuntary Sojourn in Rebel Camps.--A
Startling Confederate Atrocity.
CHAPTER XV. 189
Jefferson City, Missouri.--Fremont's Army.--Organization
of the Bohemian Brigade.--An Amusing Inquiry.--Diversions
of the Correspondents.--A Polite Army Chaplain.--Sights
in Jefferson City.--"Fights mit Sigel."--Fremont's
Head-Quarters.--Appearance of the General.--Mrs.
Fremont.--Sigel, Hunter, Pope, Asboth, McKinstry.--Sigel's
Transportation Train.--A Countryman's Estimate of Troops.
CHAPTER XVI. 199
A Kid-gloved Corps.--Charge of Fremont's Body-guard.--Major
White.--Turning the Tables.--Welcome from the Union Residents
of Springfield.--Freaks of the Kansas Brigade.--A Visit to
the Wilson-Creek Battle-Ground.--"Missing."--Graves Opened
by Wolves.--Capture of a Female Spy.--Fremont's Farewell to
His Army.--Dissatisfaction Among the Soldiers.--Spurious
Missouri Unionists.--The Conduct of Secretary Cameron and
Adjutant-General Thomas.
CHAPTER XVII. 213
Rebel Guerrillas Outwitted.--Expedition to Fort
Henry.--Scenes in the Captured Fort.--Commodore Foote in
the Pulpit.--Capture of Fort Donelson.--Scenes in Columbus,
Kentucky.--A Curious Anti-Climax.--Hospital Scenes.
CHAPTER XVIII. 225
Down the Mississippi.--Bombardment of Island Number
Ten.--Sensations under Fire.--Flanking the Island.--Daily
Life on a Gunboat.--Triumph of Engineering Skill.--The
Surrender.
CHAPTER XIX. 235
The Battle of Shiloh.--With the Sanitary Commission.--A
Union Orator in Rebel Hands.--Grant and Sherman in
Battle.--Hair-breadth 'Scapes.--General Sweeney.--Arrival of
Buell's Army.--The Final Struggle.--Losses of the Two Armies.
CHAPTER XX. 243
Grant under a Cloud.--He Smokes and Waits.--Military
Jealousies.--The Union and Rebel Wounded.
CHAPTER XXI. 247
An Interview with General Sherman.--His Complaints about
the Press.--Sherman's Personal Appearance.--Humors of the
Telegraph.--Our Advance upon Corinth.--Weaknesses of Sundry
Generals.--"Ten Thousand Prisoners Taken."--Halleck's
Faux Pas at Corinth.--Out on the Front.--Among the
Sharp-shooters.--Halleck and the War Correspondents.
CHAPTER XXII. 259
Bloodthirstiness of Rebel Women.--The Battle of
Memphis.--Gallant Exploit of the Rams.--A Sailor
on a Lark.--Appearance of the Captured City.--The
Jews in Memphis.--A Rebel Paper Supervised.--"A Dam
Black-harted Ablichiness."--Challenge from a Southern
Woman.--Valuable Currency.--A Rebel Trick.--One of Sherman's
Jokes.--Fictitious Battle Reports.--Curtis's March through
Arkansas.--The Siege of Cincinnati.
CHAPTER XXIII. 275
With the Army of the Potomac.--On the War-Path.--A Duel in
Arizona.--How Correspondents Avoided Expulsion.--Shameful
Surrender of Harper's Ferry.--General Hooker at
Antietam.--"Stormed at with Shot and Shell."--A Night Among
the Pickets.--The Battlefield.
CHAPTER XXIV. 287
The Day after the Battle.--Among the Dead.--Lee Permitted
to Escape.--The John Brown Engine-House.--President Lincoln
Reviewing the Army.--Dodging Cannon Balls.--"An Intelligent
Contraband."--Harper's Ferry.--Curiosities of the Signal
Corps.--View from Maryland Hights.
CHAPTER XXV. 299
Marching Southward.--Rebel Girl with Sharp Tongue.--A Slight
Mistake.--Removal of General McClellan.--Familiarity of the
Pickets.--The Life of an Army Correspondent.--A Negro's Idea
of Freedom.--The Battle of Fredericksburg.--A Telegraphic
Blunder.--The Batteries at Fredericksburg.--A Disappointed
Virginian.--The Spirit of the Army under Defeat.
CHAPTER XXVI. 311
Reminiscences of President Lincoln.--His Great Canvass
with Douglas.--His Visit to Kansas.--His Manner of Public
Speaking.--High Praise from an Opponent.--A Deed without
a Name.--Sherman's Quarrel with the Press.--An Army
Correspondent Court-Martialed.--A Visit to President
Lincoln.--Two of his "Little Stories."--His familiar
Conversation.--Opinions about McClellan and Vicksburg.--Our
best Contribution to History.
CHAPTER XXVII. 327
Reminiscences of General Sumner.--His Conduct in Kansas.--A
Thrilling Scene in Battle.--How Sumner Fought.--Ordered Back
by McClellan.--Love for his Old Comrades.--Traveling Through
the Northwest.--A Visit to Rosecrans's Army.--Rosecrans in a
Great Battle.--A Scene in Memphis.
III.--THE DUNGEON.
CHAPTER XXVIII. 337
Running the Vicksburg Batteries.--Expedition Badly
Fitted Out.--"Into the Jaws of Death."--A Moment of
Suspense.--Disabled and Drifting Helplessly.--Bombarding,
Scalding, Burning, Drowning.--Taking to a Hay
Bale.--Overturned.--Rescued from the River.--The Killed,
Wounded, and Missing.
CHAPTER XXIX. 347
Standing by Our Colors.--Confinement in the Vicksburg
Jail.--Sympathizing Sambo.--Parolled to Return Home.--Turning
the Tables.--Visit from Many Rebels.--Interview with Jacob
Thompson.--Arrival in Jackson, Mississippi.--Kindness of
Southern Rebels.--A Project for Escape.
CHAPTER XXX. 357
A Word with a Union Woman.--Grierson's Great Raid.--Stumping
the State.--An Enraged Texan Officer.--Waggery of a Captured
Journalist.--The Alabama River.--Atlanta Editors Advocate
Hanging the Prisoners.--Renegade Vermonters.
CHAPTER XXXI. 365
Arrival in Richmond.--Lodged in Libby Prison.--Sufferings
from Vermin.--Prisoners Denounced as Blasphemous.--Thieving
of a Virginia Gentleman.--Brutality of Captain
Turner.--Prisoners Murdered by the Guards.--Fourth of July
Celebration.--The Horrors of Belle Isle.
CHAPTER XXXII. 373
The Captains Ordered Below.--Two Selected for Execution.--The
Gloomiest Night in Prison.--Glorious Revulsion of
Feeling.--Exciting Discussion in Prison.--Stealing Money
from the Captives.--Horrible Treatment of Northern
Citizens.--Extravagant Rumors among the Prisoners.
CHAPTER XXXIII. 381
Transferred to Castle Thunder.--Better than the
Libby.--Determined Not to Die.--A Negro Cruelly Whipped.--The
Execution of Spencer Kellogg.--Steadfastness of Southern
Unionists.
CHAPTER XXXIV. 387
A Waggish Journalist.--Proceedings of a Mock Court.--Escape
by Killing a Guard.--Escape by Playing Negro.--Escape by
Forging a Release.--Escaped Prisoner at Jeff Davis's Levee.
CHAPTER XXXV. 393
Assistance from a Negro Boy.--The Prison Officers
Enraged.--Visit from a Friendly Woman.--Shut up in a
Cell.--Stealing from Flag-of-Truce Letters.--Parols
Repudiated by the Rebels.--Sentenced to the Salisbury
Prison.--Abolitionists before the War.
CHAPTER XXXVI. 401
The Open Air and Pure Water.--The Crushing Weight of
Imprisonment.--Bad News from Home.--The Great Libby
Tunnel.--Escape of Colonel Streight.--Horrible Sufferings
of Union Officers.--A Cool Method of Escape.--Captured
through the Obstinacy of a Mule.--Concealing Money when
Searched.--Attempts to Escape Frustrated.--Yankee Deserters
Whipped and Hanged.
CHAPTER XXXVII. 411
Great Influx of Prisoners.--Starving in the Midst of
Food.--Freezing in the Midst of Fuel.--Rebel Surgeons
Generally Humane.--Terrible Scenes in the Hospitals.--The
Rattling Dead-Cart.--Cruelty of our Government.--General
Butler's Example of Retaliation.
CHAPTER XXXVIII. 419
Attempted Outbreak and Massacre.--Cold-blooded Murders
Frequent.--Hostility to _The Tribune_ Correspondents.--A
Cruel Injustice.--Rebel Expectations of Peace.--The Prison
Like the Tomb.--Something about Tunneling.--The Tunnelers
Ingeniously Baffled.
IV.--THE ESCAPE.
CHAPTER XXXIX. 427
Fifteen Months of Fruitless Endeavor.--A Fearful Journey
in Prospect.--A Friendly Confederate Officer.--Effects
of Hunger and Cold.--Another Plan in Reserve.--Passing
the Sentinel.--"Beg Pardon, Sir."--Encountering Rebel
Acquaintances.
CHAPTER XL. 435
"Out of the Jaws of Death."--Concealed in Sight of the
Prison.--Certain to be Brought Back.--Commencing the Long
Journey.--Too Weak for Traveling.--Severe March in the Rain.
CHAPTER XLI. 441
A Cabin of Friendly Negroes.--Southerners Unacquainted
with Tea.--Walking Twelve Miles for Nothing.--Every Negro
a Friend.--Touching Fidelity of the Slaves.--Pursued by a
Home-Guard.--Help in the Last Extremity.--Carried Fifteen
Miles by Friends
CHAPTER XLII. 449
A Curious Dilemma.--Food, Shelter, and Friends.--Loyalty of
the Mountaineers.--A Levee in a Barn.--Visited by an Old
Friend.--A Day of Alarms.--A Woman's Ready Wit.--Danger
of Detection from Snoring.--Promises to Aid Suffering
Comrades.--A Repentant Rebel
CHAPTER XLIII. 461
Flanking a Rebel Camp.--Secreted among the Husks.--Wandering
from the Road.--Crossing the Yadkin River.--Union
Bushwhackers.--Union Soldiers "Lying Out."--An Energetic
Invalid
CHAPTER XLIV. 469
Money Concealed in Clothing.--Peril of Union
Citizens.--Fording Creeks at Midnight.--Climbing the Blue
Ridge.--Crossing the New River at Midnight
CHAPTER XLV. 477
Over Mountains and Through Ravines.--Mistaken for Confederate
Guards.--A Rebel Guerrilla Killed.--Meeting a Former
Fellow-Prisoner.--Alarm about Rebel Cavalry.--A Stanch old
Unionist.--The Greatest Danger.--A Well Fortified Refuge
CHAPTER XLVI. 487
Dan Ellis, the Union Guide.--In Good Hands at Last.--Ellis's
Bravery.--Lost! A Perilous Blunder.--A most Fortunate
Encounter.--Rejoining Dan and His Party.--A Terrible March
CHAPTER XLVII. 495
Fording Creeks in the Darkness.--Prospect of a Dreary
Night.--Sleeping among the Husks.--Turning Back in
Discouragement.--An Alarm at Midnight.--A Young Lady for a
Guide.--The Nameless Heroine.
CHAPTER XLVIII. 503
Among the Delectable Mountains.--Separation from
Friends.--Union Women Scrutinizing the Yankee.--"Slide
Down off that Horse."--Friendly Words, but Hostile
Eyes.--Hospitalities of a Loyal Patriarch.--"Out of the Mouth
of Hell."
[Illustration: RICHARD T. COLBURN, "NEW YORK WORLD". CHARLES C. COFFIN,
"CARLETON" - "BOSTON JOURNAL". WILLIAM E. DAVIS, "CINCINNATI GAZETTE".
JUNIUS H. BROWNE, "NEW YORK TRIBUNE". L. L. CROUNSE, "NEW YORK TIMES".
W. D. BICKHAM, "CINCINNATI COMMERCIAL". THOMAS W. KNOX, "NEW YORK
HERALD". A GROUP OF ARMY CORRESPONDENTS. Eng^d. by Geo. E. Perine,
N.Y.]
THE FIELD, THE DUNGEON, AND THE ESCAPE.
I.
THE SECRET SERVICE.
CHAPTER I.
I will go on the slightest errand now to the antipodes that
you can desire to send me on.--MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING.
Early in 1861, I felt a strong desire to look at the Secession movement
for myself; to learn, by personal observation, whether it sprang from
the people or not; what the Revolutionists wanted, what they hoped, and
what they feared.
But the southern climate, never propitious to the longevity of
Abolitionists, was now unfavorable to the health of every northerner,
no matter how strong his political constitution. I felt the danger of
being recognized; for several years of roving journalism, and a good
deal of political speaking on the frontier, had made my face familiar
to persons whom I did not remember at all, and given me that large and
motley acquaintance which every half-public life necessitates.
Moreover, I had passed through the Kansas struggle; and many former
shining lights of Border Ruffianism were now, with perfect fitness,
lurid torches in the early bonfires of Secession. I did not care
to meet their eyes, for I could not remember a single man of them
all who would be likely to love me, either wisely or too well. But
the newspaper instinct was strong within me, and the journalist who
deliberates is lost. My hesitancy resulted in writing for a roving
commission to represent THE TRIBUNE in the Southwest.
[Sidenote: THE MANAGING EDITOR.]
A few days after, I found the Managing Editor in his office, going
through the great pile of letters the morning mail had brought him,
with the wonderful rapidity which quick intuition, long experience, and
natural fitness for that most delicate and onerous position alone can
give. For the modern newspaper is a sort of intellectual iron-clad,
upon which, while the Editorial Captain makes out the reports to his
chief, the public, and entertains the guests in his elegant cabin, the
leading column, and receives the credit for every broadside of type
and every paper bullet of the brain poured into the enemy,--back out
of sight is an Executive Officer, with little popular fame, who keeps
the ship all right from hold to maintop, looks to every detail with
sleepless vigilance, and whose life is a daily miracle of hard work.
The Manager went through his mail, I think, at the rate of one letter
per minute. He made final disposition of each when it came into his
hand; acting upon the great truth, that if he laid one aside for future
consideration, there would soon be a series of strata upon his groaning
desk, which no mental geologist could fathom or classify. Some were
ruthlessly thrown into the waste-basket. Others, with a lightning
pencil-stroke, to indicate the type and style of printing, were placed
on the pile for the composing-room. A few great packages of manuscript
were re-enclosed in envelopes for the mail, with a three-line note,
which, while I did not read, I knew must run like this:--
"MY DEAR SIR--Your article has unquestionable merit; but by
the imperative pressure of important news upon our columns,
we are very reluctantly compelled," etc.
[Sidenote: PRELIMINARY INSTRUCTIONS.]
There was that quick, educated instinct, which reads the whole from
a very small part, taking in a line here and a key-word there. Two
or three glances appeared to decide the fate of each; yet the reader
was not wholly absorbed, for all the while he kept up a running
conversation:
"I received your letter. Are you going to New Orleans?"
"Not unless you send me."
"I suppose you know it is rather precarious business?"
"O, yes."
"Two of our correspondents have come home within the last week, after
narrow escapes. We have six still in the South; and it would not
surprise me, this very hour, to receive a telegram announcing the
imprisonment or death of any one of them."
"I have thought about all that, and decided."
"Then we shall be very glad to have you go."
"When may I start?"
"To-day, if you like."
"What field shall I occupy?"
"As large a one as you please. Go and remain just where you think best."
"How long shall I stay?"
"While the excitement lasts, if possible. Do you know how long you
_will_ stay? You will be back here some fine morning in just about two
weeks."
"Wait and see."
Pondering upon the line of conduct best for the journey, I remembered
the injunction of the immortal Pickwick: "It is always best on these
occasions to do what the mob do!" "But," suggested Mr. Snodgrass,
"suppose there are two mobs?" "_Shout with the largest_," replied Mr.
Pickwick. Volumes could not say more. Upon this plan I determined to
act--concealing my occupation, political views, and place of residence.
It is not pleasant to wear a padlock upon one's tongue, for weeks, nor
to adopt a course of systematic duplicity; but personal convenience and
safety rendered it an inexorable necessity.
[Sidenote: A RIDE THROUGH KENTUCKY.]
On Tuesday, February 26th, I left Louisville, Kentucky, by the
Nashville train. Public affairs were the only topic of conversation
among the passengers. They were about equally divided into enthusiastic
Secessionists, urging in favor of the new movement that negroes
already commanded higher prices than ever before; and quasi Loyalists,
reiterating, "We only want Kentucky to remain in the Union as long
as she can do so honorably." Not a single man declared himself
unqualifiedly for the Government.
A ride of five hours among blue, dreamy hills, feathered with timber;
dense forests, with their drooping foliage and log dwellings, in the
doors of which women and little girls were complacently smoking their
pipes; great, hospitable farm-houses, in the midst of superb natural
parks; tobacco plantations, upon which negroes of both sexes--the women
in cowhide brogans, and faded frocks, with gaudy kerchiefs wrapped like
turbans about their heads--were hoeing, and following the plow, brought
us to Cave City.
I left the train for a stage-ride of ten miles to the Mammoth Cave
Hotel. In the midst of a smooth lawn, shaded by stately oaks and
slender pines, it looms up huge and white, with a long, low, one-story
offshoot fronted by a deep portico, and known as "the Cottages."
[Sidenote: THE CURIOSITIES OF WHITE'S CAVE.]
Several evening hours were spent pleasantly in White's Cave, where
the formations, at first dull and leaden, turn to spotless white
after one grows accustomed to the dim light of the torches. There are
little lakes so utterly transparent that your eye fails to detect
the presence of water; stone drapery, hanging in graceful folds, and
forming an exquisitely beautiful chamber; petrified fountains, where
the water still trickles down and hardens into stone; a honey-combed
roof, which is a very perfect counterfeit of art; long rows of
stalactites, symmetrically ribbed and fluted, which stretch off in a
pleasing colonnade, and other rare specimens of Nature's handiwork
in her fantastic moods. Many of them are vast in dimension, though
the geologists declare that it requires _thirty_ years to deposit a
formation no thicker than a wafer! Well says the German proverb "God is
patient because he is eternal."
With another visitor I passed the next day in the Mammoth Cave.
"Mat," our sable cicerone, had been acting in the capacity of guide
for twenty-five years, and it was estimated that he had walked more
than fifty thousand miles under ground. The story is not so improbable
when one remembers that the passages of the great cavern are, in the
aggregate, upwards of one hundred and fifty miles in length, and that
it has two hundred and twenty-six known chambers. The outfit consisted
of two lamps for himself and one for each of us. Cans of oil are kept
at several interior points; for it is of the last importance that
visitors to this labyrinth of darkness should keep their lamps trimmed
and burning.
[Sidenote: THE MAMMOTH CAVE.--LUNG COMPLAINTS.]
The thermometer within stands constantly at fifty-nine Fahrenheit; and
the cave "breathes just once a year." Through the winter it takes one
long inspiration, and in summer the air rushes steadily outward. Its
vast chambers are the lungs of the universe.
In 1845, a number of wood and stone cottages were erected in the
cavern, and inhabited by consumptive patients, who believed that the
dry atmosphere and equable temperature would prove beneficial. After
three or four months their faces were bloodless; the pupils of their
sunken eyes dilated until the iris became invisible and the organs
appeared black, no matter what their original color. Three patients
died in the cave; the others expired soon after leaving it.
Mat gave a vivid description of these invalids flitting about like
ghosts--their hollow coughs echoing and reechoing through the cavernous
chambers. It must have looked horrible--as if the tomb had oped its
ponderous and marble jaws, that its victims might wander about in this
subterranean Purgatory. A cemetery would seem cheerful in comparison
with such a living entombment. Volunteer medical advice, like a motion
to adjourn, is always in order. My own panacea for lung-complaints
would be exactly the opposite. Mount a horse or take a carriage, and
ride, by easy stages at first, across the great plains to the Rocky
Mountains or California, eating and sleeping in the open air. Nature is
very kind, if you will trust her fully; and in the atmosphere, which is
so dry and pure that fresh meat, cut in strips and hung up, will cure
without salting or smoking, and may be carried all over the world, her
healing power seems almost boundless.
The walls and roof of the cave were darkened and often hidden by
myriads of screeching bats, at this season of the year all hanging
torpid by the claws, with heads downward, and unable to fly away, even
when subjected to the cruel experiment of being touched by the torches.
[Sidenote: METHODIST CHURCH.--FAT MAN'S MISERY.]
The Methodist Church is a semi-circular chamber, in which a ledge forms
the natural pulpit; and logs, brought in when religious service was
first performed, fifty years ago, in perfect preservation, yet serve
for seats. Methodist itinerants and other clergymen still preach at
long intervals. Worship, conducted by the "dim religious light" of
tapers, and accompanied by the effect which music always produces in
subterranean halls, must be peculiarly impressive. It suggests those
early days in the Christian Church, when the hunted followers of Jesus
met at midnight in mountain caverns, to blend in song their reverent
voices; to hear anew the strange, sweet story of his teachings, his
death, and his all-embracing love.
Upon one of the walls beyond, a figure of gypsum, in bass-relief, is
called the American Eagle. The venerable bird, in consonance with
the evil times upon which he had fallen, was in a sadly ragged and
dilapidated condition. One leg and other portions of his body had
seceded, leaving him in seeming doubt as to his own identity; but the
beak was still perfect, as if he could send forth upon occasion his
ancient notes of self-gratulation.
Minerva's Dome has fluted walls, and a concave roof, beautifully
honey-combed; but no statue of its mistress. The oft-invoked goddess,
wearied by the merciless orators who are always compelling her to leap
anew from the brain of Jove, has doubtless, in some hidden nook, found
seclusion and repose.
We toiled along the narrow, tortuous passage, chiseled through the
rock by some ancient stream of water, and appropriately named the Fat
Man's Misery; wiped away the perspiration in the ample passage beyond,
known as the Great Relief; glanced inside the Bacon Chamber, where the
little masses of lime-rock pendent from the roof do look marvelously
like esculent hams; peeped down into the cylindrical Bottomless Pit,
which the reader shall be told, confidentially, _has_ a bottom just one
hundred and sixty feet below the surface; laughed at the roof-figures
of the Giant, his Wife, and Child, which resemble a caricature from
Punch; admired the delicate, exquisite flowers of white, fibrous
gypsum, along the walls of Pensacola Avenue; stood beside the Dead Sea,
a dark, gloomy body of water; crossed the Styx by the natural bridge
which spans it, and halted upon the shore of Lethe.
[Sidenote: A RIDE DOWN THE LETHE.]
Then, embarking in a little flat-boat, we slowly glided along the
river of Oblivion. It was a strange, weird spectacle. The flickering
torches dimly revealed the dark inclosing walls, which rise abruptly a
hundred feet to the black roof. Our sable guide looked, in the ghastly
light, like a recent importation from Pluto's domain; and stood in the
bows, steering the little craft, which moved slowly down the winding,
sluggish river. The deep silence was only broken by drops of water,
which fell from the roof, striking the stream like the tick of a clock,
and the sharp _ylp_ of the paddle, as it was thrust into the wave to
guide us. When my companion evoked from his flute strains of slow
music, which resounded in hollow echoes through the long vault, it grew
so demoniac, that I almost expected the walls to open and reveal a
party of fiends, dancing to infernal music around a lurid fire. I never
saw any stage effect or work of art that could compare with it. If one
would enjoy the most vivid sensations of the grand and gloomy, let him
float down Lethe to the sound of a dirge.
[Sidenote: THE STAR CHAMBER.--MAGNIFICENT DISTANCES.]
We first saw the Star Chamber with the lights withdrawn. It revealed
to us the meaning of "darkness visible." We seemed to _feel_ the dense
blackness against our eye-balls. An object within half an inch of them
was not in the faintest degree perceptible. If one were left alone
here, reason could not long sustain itself. Even a few hours, in the
absence of light, would probably shake it. In numberless little spots,
the dark gypsum has scaled off, laying bare minute sections of the
white limestone roof, resembling stars. When the chamber was lighted
the illusion became perfect. We seemed in a deep, rock-walled pit,
gazing up at the starry firmament. The torch, slowly moved to throw a
shadow along the roof, produced the effect of a cloud sailing over the
sky; but the scene required no such aid to render it one of marvelous
beauty. The Star Chamber is the most striking picture in all this great
gallery of Nature.
My companion had spent his whole life within a few miles of the cave,
but now visited it for the first time. Thus it is always; objects which
pilgrims come half across the world to see, we regard with indifference
at our own doors. Persons have passed all their days in sight of Mount
Washington, and yet never looked upon the grand panorama from its
brow. Men have lived from childhood almost within sound of the roar of
Niagara, without ever gazing on the vast fountain, where mother Earth,
like Rachel, weeps for her children, and will not be comforted. We
appreciate no enjoyment justly, until we see it through the charmed
medium of magnificent distances.
[Sidenote: POLITICAL FEELING IN KENTUCKY.]
Throughout Kentucky the pending troubles were uppermost in every heart
and on every tongue. One gentleman, in conversation, thus epitomized
the feeling of the State:--
"We have more wrongs to complain of than any other slave community, for
Kentucky loses more negroes than all the cotton States combined. But
Secession is no remedy. It would be jumping out of the frying-pan into
the fire."
Another, whose head was silvered with age, said to me:--
"When I was a boy here in this county, some of our neighbors started
for New Orleans on a flat-boat. As we bade them good-by, we never
expected to see them again; we thought they were going out of the
world. But, after several months, they returned, having come on foot
all the way, through the Indian country, packing[1] their blankets and
provisions. Now we come from New Orleans in five days. I thank God to
have lived in this age--the age of the Railroad, the Telegraph, and the
Printing Press. Ours was the greatest nation and the greatest era in
history. But that is all past now. The Government is broken to pieces;
the slave States can not obtain their rights; and those which have
seceded will never come back."
[1] Vernacular for carrying a load upon the back of a man or animal.
An old farmer "reckoned," as I traveled a good deal, that I might know
better than he whether there was any hope of a peaceable settlement.
If the North, as he believed, was willing to be just, an overwhelming
majority of Kentuckians would stand by the Union. "It is a great pity,"
he said, very earnestly, in a broken voice, "that we Americans could
not live harmoniously, like brethren, instead of always quarreling
about a few niggers."
My recollections of Nashville, Tennessee, include only an unpalatable
breakfast in one of its abominable hotels; a glimpse at some of its
pleasant shaded streets and marble capitol, which, with the exception
of that in Columbus, Ohio, is considered the finest State-house on the
continent.
Continuing southward, I found the country already "appareled in the
sweet livery of spring." The elm and gum trees wore their leafy
glory; the grass and wheat carpeted the ground with swelling verdure,
and field and forest glowed with the glossy green of the holly. The
railway led through large cotton-fields, where many negroes, of both
sexes, were plowing and hoeing, while overseers sat upon the high,
zig-zag fences, armed with rifles or shot-guns. On the withered stalks
snowy tufts of cotton were still protruding from the dull brown
bolls--portions of the last year's crop, which had never been picked,
and were disappearing under the plow.
[Sidenote: COTTON-FIELDS.--AN INDIGNANT ALABAMIAN.]
A native Kentuckian, now a young merchant in Alabama, was one of
my fellow-passengers. He pronounced the people aristocratic. They
looked down upon every man who worked for his living--indeed, upon
every one who did not own negroes. The ladies were pretty, and often
accomplished, but, he mildly added, he would like them better if they
did not "dip." He insisted that Alabama had been precipitated into the
revolution.
"We were _swindled_ out of our rights. In my own town, Jere
Clemens--an ex-United States senator, and one of the ablest men in the
State--was elected to the convention on the strongest public pledges
of Unionism. When the convention met, he went completely over to the
enemy. The leaders--a few heavy slaveholders, aided by political
demagogues--dared not submit the Secession ordinance to a popular vote;
they knew the people would defeat them. They are determined on war;
they will exasperate the ignorant masses to the last degree before they
allow them to vote on any test question. I trust the Government will
put them down by force of arms, no matter what the cost!"
The same evening, crossing the Alabama line, I was in the "Confederate
States of America." At the little town of Athens, the Stars and Stripes
were still floating; as the train left, I cast a longing look at the
old flag, wondering when I should see it again.
[Sidenote: "OUR CORRESPONDENT" AS A NEW MEXICAN.]
The next person who took a seat beside me went through the formula
of questions, usual between strangers in the South and the Far West,
asking my name, residence, business, and destination. He was informed,
in reply, that I lived in the Territory of New Mexico, and was now
traveling leisurely to New Orleans, designing to visit Vera Cruz and
the City of Mexico before returning home. This hypothesis, to which
I afterward adhered, was rendered plausible by my knowledge of New
Mexico, and gave me the advantage of not being deemed a partisan.
Secessionists and Unionists alike, regarding me as a stranger with no
particular sympathies, conversed freely. Aaron Burr asserts that "a lie
well stuck to is good as the truth;" in my own case, it was decidedly
better than the truth.
My querist was a cattle-drover, who spent most of his time in traveling
through Alabama, Mississippi and Louisiana. He declared emphatically
that the people of those States had been placed in a false position;
that their hearts were loyal to the Union, in spite of all the arts
which had been used to deceive and exasperate them.
At Memphis was an old friend, whom I had not met for many years, and
who was now commercial editor of the leading Secession journal. I knew
him to be perfectly trustworthy, and, at heart, a bitter opponent of
Slavery. On the morning of my arrival, he called upon me at the Gayoso
House. After his first cordial greeting, he asked, abruptly:
[Sidenote: A HOT CLIMATE FOR ABOLITIONISTS.]
"What are you doing down here?"
"Corresponding for _The Tribune_."
"How far are you going?"
"Through all the Gulf States, if possible."
"My friend," said he, in his deep bass tones, "do you know that you are
on very perilous business?"
"Possibly; but I shall be extremely prudent when I get into a hot
climate."
"I do not know" (with a shrug of the shoulders) "what you call a
hot climate. Last week, two northerners, who had been mobbed as
Abolitionists, passed through here, with their heads shaved, going
home, in charge of the Adams' Express. A few days before, a man was
hung on that cottonwood tree which you see just across the river, upon
the charge of tampering with slaves. Another person has just been
driven out of the city, on suspicion of writing a letter for _The
Tribune_. If the people in this house, and out on the street in front,
knew you to be one of its correspondents, they would not leave you many
minutes for saying your prayers."
After a long, minute conversation, in which my friend learned my plans
and gave me some valuable hints, he remarked:
[Sidenote: AIMS AND ANIMUS OF SECESSIONISTS.]
"My first impulse was to go down on my knees, and beg you, for God's
sake, to turn back; but I rather think you may go on with comparative
safety. You are the first man to whom I have opened my heart for years.
I wish some of my old northern friends, who think Slavery a good thing,
could witness the scenes in the slave auctions, which have so often
made my blood run cold. I knew two runaway negroes absolutely starve
themselves to death in their hiding-places in this city, rather than
make themselves known, and be sent back to their masters. I disliked
Slavery before; now I hate it, down to the very bottom of my heart."
His compressed lips and clinched fingers, driving their nails into his
palms, attested the depth of his feeling.