ON DUTY AS A SPY AT THE REBEL CAPITAL, MONTGOMERY, ALABAMA--LIVING IN
SAME HOTEL WITH JEFF DAVIS AND HIS CABINET--CONSPIRATORS FROM WASHINGTON
INTERVIEWED--BOUNTY OFFERED BY CONFEDERATES BEFORE A GUN WAS FIRED--FORT
SUMTER AND FORT PICKENS.
I was quartered at the Exchange Hotel, which was the headquarters and
home of the leading men of the new government then gathering from all
parts of the South. Here I spent some days in pretty close companionship
with these gentlemen, taking notes in a general way, and endeavoring to
learn all I could in regard to their plans.
I had learned, while skirmishing about Washington, to know at sight
nearly all of the prominent people who were active in this movement, and
perhaps the fact that I had been somewhat accustomed to being in their
society, and being quite youthful gave me an assurance that enabled me
to go about among them in a free and open way, without exciting any
suspicion.
There were among the guests, a recent arrival from Washington City, a
gentleman of some apparent prominence, as I judged from the amount of
attention he was receiving.
I made it a point to look closely after him, and soon gathered the
information that he had been a trusted employe of the Government, and at
the same time had been secretly furnishing the rebel leaders, for some
months, with information of the government's plans. He was at this time
the bearer of important papers to the rebel government. This gentleman's
name, which has escaped my memory in these twenty-five years, was placed
upon record in the War Department at the time.
Jeff Davis, who had been chosen President, and had but recently come
from his Mississippi home to Montgomery, attended by a committee of
distinguished Southerners, who had been deputed to notify him of his
election, lived at the same hotel, where I saw him frequently every day.
There were also to be seen in the hotel office, in the corridors, in
the barbers' shops, and even in the bar-room, groups of animated,
earnest, intensely earnest men, discussing the great "impending
conflict."
I walked about the streets of the Confederate Capital with perfect
freedom, visiting any place of interest that I could find. Throughout
the city there was not much in the way of enthusiasm; indeed, the fact
that was particularly noticeable then was the apparent difference in
this respect between the people at the hotel and the citizens.
Of course there were meetings and speeches, with the usual brass-band
accompaniment every evening, while, during the day, an occasional parade
up and down the principal streets of the town, headed by the martial
fife and drum, which were always played with delight and a great deal of
energy by the colored boys.
There was an absence of enthusiasm and excitement among the common
people, which was a disappointment to those who had expected so much.
The existence of an historical fact, which I have never seen printed,
is, that before a gun had been fired by either party, there were posted
on the walls of the Confederate Capital large handbills offering a
"bounty" to recruits to their army.
In my walks about town my attention was attracted by a bill, posted on a
fence, bearing in large letters the heading,
BOUNTY.
The word was at that time something entirely new to me, and as I was out
in search of information, I walked up closer to learn its meaning, and
was surprised at the information, as well as the advice the
advertisement contained, which was to the effect that certain moneys
would be paid all those who would enlist in a certain Alabama regiment.
Lest there should be a disposition to challenge the correctness of this
somewhat remarkable statement, I will mention now that this fact was
reported to the War Department, and a copy of this bounty advertisement
was also embodied in a letter that was intended to be a description of
the scenes at Montgomery, in April, 1861, during the firing on Sumter,
which I wrote at the time and mailed secretly in the Montgomery
Postoffice, addressed to Robert McKnight, then the editor of the
Pittsburgh _Chronicle_, to which I, with an apprehension of a possible
Rebel censorship, neglected to attach my name. Mr. McKnight, the next
time I saw him, laughingly asked me if I hadn't sent him such a letter,
saying he had printed it, with comments, at the time, which, as nearly
as I can remember, was between April 18th and 20th, 1861.
This was probably among the first letters published from a "war
correspondent," written from the actual seat of war.
Mr. Davis occupied a suite of rooms at the Exchange, on the left of the
first corridor, and there were always congregated about his door groups
of men, while others were constantly going and coming from his rooms.
I was a constant attendant about this door, and witnessed the many warm
greetings of welcome that were so cordially extended to each new arrival
as they reported to headquarters.
It seemed odd to hear those people talk about the "President," but of
course I had to meekly listen to their immense conceit about their
"government," as well as their expressions of contempt and hatred for
that to which but a short time before, when they had the control, they
were so devotedly attached.
In the same room with myself was a young fellow who had been at the
school at West Point, from which he had resigned to enter the rebel
service. He kept constantly talking to me about "My State," and the
"plebians" of the North, but, as he was able to furnish me with some
points, we became quite congenial friends and talked together, after
going to bed, sometimes until long after midnight. I was, of course,
when necessity or policy demanded it, one of the original secessionists.
The attention of everybody both North and South was being directed to
Fort Sumter, and a good deal of the war-talk we heard about the Rebel
headquarters was in regard to that.
This young fellow and I planned to go together to Charleston to see the
ball open there, and, with this object in view, he set about to learn
something of the plans of the "President," which kindness I duly
appreciated.
One day, while lounging about the hotel corridors, I learned from a
conversation between a group of highly exuberant Southern gentlemen,
which was being hilariously carried on, that President Davis and his
advisers had that day issued the necessary orders, or authority to
General Beauregard, to commence firing on the Union flag at Fort Sumter
the following day.
These gentlemen, none of whose names I remember, excepting Wm. L.
Yancey, were so intent upon their success in thus "precipitating" the
rebellion, that they took no notice of the innocent boy who was
apparently so intent at that moment upon some interesting item in the
paper, but I quietly gathered in all they had to say to each other, and
at the first opportunity set about planning to make use of this
information; but here I experienced, at the beginning of my career as a
spy, the same unfortunate conditions that had so often baffled me and
interfered with my success in the months and years following.
Though reckless and almost foolish in my boyish adventures, I was
sufficiently cautious and discreet to know that a telegram conveying
this news would not be permitted to go over the wires from Montgomery to
Washington, and to have filed such a message would have subjected me to
serious embarrassments.
There being no cipher facilities arranged so early in the war, I was
left entirely without resource, though I did entertain a project of
going to a neighboring town and from there arrange to manipulate the key
myself, and in this manner try to give the information, but I was forced
to abandon this scheme on learning, which I did by hanging about the
dingy little Montgomery telegraph office, that all their communications
were relayed or repeated once or twice either at Augusta or Chattanooga
and Charleston before reaching the North.
I did the next best thing, however, hastily writing a letter to
Washington, which I stealthily dropped into the postoffice, hurrying
away lest the clerk should discover who had dropped a letter addressed
to a foreign government without payment of additional postage.
Of those yet living who were witnesses of the "Great uprising of the
North," after the fall of Fort Sumter, none are likely ever to forget
the scenes which followed so quickly upon this first attempt of the
Southern fire-eaters to "precipitate the Cotton States into the
rebellion."
Solitary and alone I held my little indignation meeting in Montgomery,
the capital of the rebel government, where I was at the time, if not a
stranger in a strange land, at least an enemy in a foreign country. When
the news of Fort Sumter's fall reached Montgomery it was bulletined
"that every vestige of the hateful enemy has been gloriously driven from
the soil of the pioneer Palmetto State," and I recall, with
distinctness, that the universal comment then was: "We will next clean
them out in the same way from Florida," etc.
I felt that, in having failed to get this information to Washington in
advance, I had neglected a great opportunity to do the government an
important service, but in this I was mistaken, as events subsequently
proved that the authorities at Washington were powerless to prevent the
bombardment that was anticipated.
There was no person among that people to whom I dare talk, for fear of
betraying myself by giving vent to my feelings, so I walked wildly up
and down the one main street of Montgomery in a manner that at any other
time would have been considered eccentric, but, as everybody was wild
that day, my actions were not noticed. Feeling that I must blow off
steam some way or I should bust, I continued my walk out on the railroad
track beyond the outskirts of the town, in the direction of Charleston.
During my walk I met an old "Uncle," whom, from the color of his skin, I
knew to be a true friend of the government, and into the wide-awake ears
of this old man I poured a wild, incendiary harangue about what would
surely happen to this people. This was not a very sensible thing to do,
either, at that time, but I just had to say something to somebody, and
this was my only chance. After having thus exhausted my high pressure on
the poor old man, who must have thought me crazy, I discovered that my
legs were "exhausted," too, and turned my face wearily back toward the
city.
That night there were serenades and speeches, with the regular
brass-band accompaniment impromptu processions up and down the main
street, headed by the fife-and-drum music of the colored "boys," as all
the "likely" colored men were called down South at that time, even if
they were forty years old.
I had seen Jeff Davis once during the day, while in his room surrounded
by a crowd of enthusiastic friends, and, though I did not have occasion
to speak to "the President," I was close enough to him on the day he
gave the command to fire Sumter, to have killed him on the spot, and I
was about wild and crazy enough at the time to have made the attempt
without once considering the consequences to myself, if there had
occurred at the instant any immediate provocation.
Mr. Davis' manner and appearance always impressed me with a feeling of
kindness and even admiration. In the years following it became my fate
to have been near his person in disguise, frequently while in Richmond,
and I could at any time then have ended his career by sacrificing my own
life, if the exigencies of the government had in my imagination required
it.
I took note of the fact that a great deal was being said about what they
would do next, at Fort Pickens, in Pensacola Harbor. To this point I
directed my attention, determined that another such an affair as this at
Charleston should not escape me.
One night, shortly after I had reached Montgomery, when my West Point
companion and I had retired for the night, but were yet talking over the
great future of the South, as we did every night, he almost paralyzed me
by saying, "Well, stranger, you talk all right, of course, but do you
know that you remind me mightily of the fellows at the Point, who are
all the time meddling about the affairs of our Southern States."
Fortunately for me, perhaps, the room was dark at the time, which
enabled me the better to hide the embarrassment that daylight must have
shown in my face and manner. After recovering my breath a little, I put
on an indignant air and demanded a repetition of the remark. This served
to allay any suspicions that he may have been entertaining, for the
young fellow, in his gentlemanly and courteous manner, was at once
profuse in his explanations, which gave me the time to collect my
thoughts. I told him that I was the nephew of an English gentleman, who
lived away off in Western Texas, who owned any quantity of cattle and
niggers; I was then on my way, from school at the North, to my Texas
home, tarrying at Montgomery, _en route_, to meet some friends. This was
more than satisfactory to the young man, who seemed to take especial
pleasure after this in introducing me to any friends that we would come
across while together so constantly in Montgomery.
This mother tongue "provincialism" was one of the greatest difficulties
that I encountered in these Southern excursions, though at the time of
which I am now writing strangers were not scrutinized so closely as
became the rule soon after, when martial law was everywhere in
operation, and provost-marshals were exceedingly numerous. I had
endeavored to bridle my tongue as far as possible. My plan to quiet this
apprehension was to play the "refugee" from Maryland, "my Maryland," or
else, if the circumstances and surroundings were better adapted to it, I
was an English sympathizer who had but recently arrived in the country.
The Maryland racket was, however, the most popular, and it was also the
easiest worked, because I had another uncle living in Baltimore, whom I
had frequently visited, and, as has been stated, I was born almost on
the Maryland line of English stock.
While in Montgomery it did not seem necessary to hang about the
telegraph offices to obtain information. I availed myself however of
this "facility" to learn something more definite about the programme
they had laid out for Fort Pickens, in Pensacola Harbor, to which, after
the fall of Fort Sumter, the attention of both the North and the South
was being directed.
The "Government at Washington" which was at this time cut off from any
communication with its officers at Pickens except by sea, had, after the
manner of Major Anderson at Sumter, secretly withdrawn their little
handful of troops, who were under the command of Lieutenant Slemmer, a
native of Pennsylvania, step by step, as they were pressed by the
arrival each day of detachments of quite fresh militia from the
sovereign State of Florida, to Fort Barrancas first, then to Fort McRae,
on the mainland, and from thence to Pickens, which is located on the
extreme point of Santa Rosa Island, on the opposite side of the bay or
harbor from Forts McRae and Barrancas.
I was able to learn from the general character of its extensive
telegraph correspondence, which was being carried on over the wires,
that President Lincoln had in some way expressed, in the hearing of the
secret agents of the rebel government (who were in Washington and in
constant communication with the conspirators at Montgomery) an earnest
desire to reinforce Fort Pickens, with a view to holding possession of
that one point in the "Cotton State" that had seceded from the Union;
and the Navy Department at Washington, especially desiring to control
the harbor and navy yards located there, had, if I remember aright,
already dispatched by water a small fleet to their aid, but which would
require a week or ten days to reach Pensacola, they having to go around
by the ocean to Key West and up the Gulf of Mexico, doubling the entire
Peninsula of Florida.
As I had left Washington some time before, and had not had any
communication with the North while in Montgomery, all this information
was derived entirely through Rebel sources, and more particularly by the
noisy tongue of a telegraph sounder, which talked loud enough for me to
hear whenever I chose to get within sound of its brazen voice.
I was exceedingly anxious to get back North, that I might take some
active part in the coming struggle, but fate decreed otherwise; and,
instead of getting out of this tight place, it was my destiny to have
been led still deeper into the mire. I was within a day's travel of the
beleaguered little garrison at Fort Pickens, with a positive knowledge
that the government was coming to their assistance, and also the
information that at the same time the Rebel government had some designs
upon them, the exact nature of which I could not ascertain.
In this emergency, while I do not believe that I felt it a duty, I am
sure that I did think it would be a good thing for the fellows at
Pickens to be informed of the intentions of _both_ the governments
toward them, and as I could not then communicate with Secretary Cameron,
at Washington, I concluded to take the matter in my own hands, and find
out, if possible, just what was proposed, and endeavor to communicate
with Secretary Cameron.
By giving close attention to the guests at the hotel, who were mostly
officials of the newly made government, I ascertained by mere accident
that a certain gentleman was at that moment getting ready to leave the
hotel for the boat, on his way to Pensacola as a bearer of dispatches or
as a commissioner--there were lots of commissioners in those early
days--to settle the status of affairs at that point. This circumstance
decided my actions at once, and as I had seen enough of Montgomery, and
was besides becoming a little uneasy about my status there, I concluded
to accompany this commissioner and, if possible, anticipate him in
bearing my own dispatch to Lieutenant Slemmer, so I shadowed the
ambassador closely and walked up the gang plank at the same time he did;
as I remember very well the plank was very springy and the ambassador
of Jeff Davis and the secret agent of the Secretary of War kept step,
and marked time on the gang plank, both bound for the same destination
but on widely different errands.