A NIGHT'S SCOUT IN JOHNSTON'S ARMY--REBEL SIGNALS--VISITORS FROM THE
UNION ARMY HEADQUARTERS REPORT TO REBEL HEADQUARTERS--GENERAL J. E.
JOHNSTON'S ESCAPE TO BEAUREGARD REPORTED TO GENERAL PATTERSON--FITZ-JOHN
PORTER RESPONSIBLE FOR THE FIRST BATTLE OF BULL RUN, AS HE WAS
CASHIERED FOR THAT OF THE SECOND BULL RUN--AN IMPORTANT CONTRIBUTION TO
THE WAR HISTORY OF THE TIME--THE STORY SINCE CONFIRMED BY THE "CENTURY"
HISTORIANS OF LINCOLN, SECRETARIES NICOLAY AND HAY.
In the morning I mailed a hastily-written note to Mr. Covode relating
briefly the result of the interview with General Patterson's principal
aide, and stating further that I would return to Washington via the
Rebel lines at Manassas, and report "direct" on my arrival.
I hunted up in one of the regiments a former acquaintance, who had some
knowledge of my Fort Pickens adventures through the papers. As our talk
naturally turned in this channel, he expressed a lively desire to engage
with me in any further undertakings of this character, and, before we
parted, it was mutually agreed that, if the arrangements could be made,
we should travel together as scouts.
I told my chum of my intention of going to Washington via Winchester and
Manassas, and suggested that he secure permission from his colonel to go
part of the way along; that he might return with any important
information that we should gather, while I should go on through to
Washington. It was agreed that he should be granted a leave of absence
for a certain time, but he was cautioned by all his friends not to
follow my lead, as it would surely result in his getting hanged. The
warnings served only to increase his anxiety to get started on a real
adventure.
As we could not get authority from our officers to go outside of our
lines, it was necessary that we should run the gauntlet of both the
picket-lines; our own were in sight and could probably be easily
managed, but we did not know anything whatever about the other.
[ILLUSTRATION: WE HASTILY DRESSED AND RAN BACK FROM THE BANK.]
I proposed that we should make the crossing of the river early in the
evening under pretence of bathing, swim to the other side of the river
with our clothes concealed in bushes held above the water. We were to
assume the character of Baltimore refugees desirous of entering the
rebel army. With this plan matured, and all the little minor points
agreed upon between us in case of capture or separation, we were both
eager for the night to come, that we might start upon the journey.
We both studied the Virginia landscape carefully during all of daylight,
and when evening began to draw its shadows around the hills and trees
our hearts beat quicker, in anticipation of the forthcoming adventure.
After sundown we joined a crowd who had permission to bathe. There were,
probably, a dozen or more in the crowd. We quickly undressed; scarcely
speaking a word to each other, we joined in a general way in the sport
and antics that soldiers love so much to indulge in when off duty.
My wardrobe was done up in as small a bundle as was possible, and while
the others were fully immersed in their sport, I slipped both bundles
further down the shore; my friend watching the movement from among the
crowd. At a hint from me he swam down the stream and, quickly picking up
the two bundles in the darkness that had now come upon us, safely towed
them to the other shore, where he waited for me. I joined him as soon as
possible, without being missed; we hastily dressed and ran back from the
bank into the bushes to finish our toilets, and take an observation and
both laughing at our success in escaping from our friends.
We thought it best to avoid the public roads after passing our pickets,
so kept to the fields and woods, we cautiously moving along, stopping
every now and then to listen and peer through the darkness for some
signs of life. We crossed field after field and passed through strips of
woods that seemed to be miles in extent, carefully avoiding all houses
in our path.
The tramp became lonesome and tiresome--our nerves were at the highest
tension, as we expected at every step to meet with something, we didn't
know exactly what. Without a sign of anything alive except the crickets
and frogs, we finally became indifferent and careless, having about
concluded in our own minds that the rebels had left that part of
Virginia. One fact was certainly established early in the scout, there
were no signs of an enemy in General Patterson's immediate front that
night, and probably there had not been any regular force near him for
several days; yet every soldier in our army was positive that the woods
right in front of them where we had been tramping were full of rebels.
General Patterson's official reports will show that he entertained this
erroneous opinion; yet he had no desire to avail himself of the service
of scouts.
Becoming convinced that we should not meet with any opposition, we
became bolder the further we went, and at last took the public road,
trotted along leisurely without much attempt at concealment for some
distance; we had almost became disgusted, not meeting with any fun, when
we stumbled right into a barricade, which had been placed across the
public highway by the rebels. Luckily for the two foolish scouts, the
enemy was not there to secure the game that had blundered into their
trap.
It is doubtful if it had ever been occupied at all, being probably
placed in that position as a blind. This blockade, however, would have
answered the purpose of obstructing, for awhile at least, a cavalry
raid, or charge. Most likely it had been placed there to protect a
retreating army.
It did not have the effect of stopping us, however, and we moved on
further south. As we emerged from a deep wood, we were at last rewarded
by seeing a light on the top of the hill beyond, but yet some distance
to the side of the road; we made this out to be a light in the window of
some farmhouse, but my comrade, who was a farmer boy, suggested that it
wasn't the right thing for a farmhouse to be lighted up that way at
midnight.
Looking at it from our uncertain standpoint, we concluded to approach it
cautiously and see if there were anybody stirring around about the
light.
Climbing over the fence into the field, we approached that light by the
cautious, engineering tactics, using a zigzag stake-and-rider fence for
our sap. For the first time that night we felt for our pistols, which
were the only weapons we had. The oppressive silence was broken by my
farmer comrade's voice startling me by a husky:
"I'll bet we'll find the dogs at home, anyway."
We crawled up that fence in single line, heads and bodies bent,
something after the style of pictures of Indians about to attack a
pioneer's log house. Stealthily we moved along, pausing every moment or
two to listen and look about. We had some dispute as to which of us
should take the advance. I reasoned with my friend that he was the
better countryman, and more familiar with stake-and-rider fences and
dogs than I; that it was his place to go ahead; but he wouldn't have it
that way, insisting that I was the captain and must lead; so I
reluctantly went ahead, insisting that he should follow his leader close
enough to be touched. While talking in hushed voices, I stepped abruptly
right onto something soft and round, which jumped up as suddenly as if I
had loosed a spring, and with an unearthly snort and grunt began to
scamper off. I was so startled, and became so nervous from the
suddenness of the encounter, that I must have jumped around as quickly
as an automaton pulled by a string--my comrade being close to me, as
directed. I had by my quick turn knocked my head square against his with
such force that we were both stunned. It was only an old hog that we had
roused from the innocent sleep of the country, which, at any other time,
would have been awfully funny, but we were both too badly hurt to laugh,
and too much scared to swear out loud.
This one hog started up some others, the whole herd scampering over the
fields snorting, which in turn routed out the dogs from the house, that
came tearing out toward the sounds. Luckily enough, there was a picket
or garden fence between us and the house, which the dogs didn't get
over, and, before they got around it, their attention was drawn away
from our location toward the hogs that were still running away from us.
While my companion and I were comparing notes we were further startled
by hearing a sound of voices, which were apparently coming from the same
direction we had just passed over. Now we were in for it. There were
dogs in front of us, hogs to the side of us, and voices to the rear of
us.
The lights at the house had disappeared suddenly when the dogs began
their uproar--there was nothing to be seen except the outlines of the
grove surrounding the house. While breathlessly considering what would
be the next best move, the sound of voices was again heard, seemingly
closer this time. Straining every faculty, I imagined that I could also
distinguish footsteps; that there were more than one person was evident
from the conversation; but whether they were colored boys, returning
from a night out, or white men and enemies who, like ourselves, were on
a scout, armed and liable to go off at half-cock on the slightest
provocation, was the one thing we would have given anything to have
found out.
We couldn't run, as our retreat was cut off, and, if we moved at all, we
were likely to start up the pack of infernal dogs, so we did the only
thing possible under the circumstances--kept still.
The footsteps came on up the road, the voices getting closer. We made
out that there were three persons, all talking earnestly together. If
they had discovered us we would probably have carried out the Maryland
refugee plan, and have joined them and have escaped detection. _But what
if they should be our own men?_
I imagine that I can hear better with my hat off, so putting my head
close to the ground, and in such a position that I could see over the
lower fence rail, I waited with beating heart the coming footsteps. It
was soon evident that they were talking about the light in the house
that had disappeared, and I soon learned from the voices and the
language used that they were not colored men. As the trio came nearer,
one voice said:
"Well, we'd better wait right here."
"Oh, it's all safe enough; let's go on!"
"But," said the first speaker, "they said not to come to the house at
night, unless there was a candle light in that far-corner window."
The third, who had not yet spoken, was nearest me, and was looking into
the field right over where I lay. I thought that through the darkness,
to which our eyes had become accustomed, that I recognized a face and
form that I had met some place, but was not able to clearly distinguish.
While there had been nothing said to indicate their errand, it became
pretty clear from these words that they were enemies, as there was
apparently an understanding about the light in the window.
Was it possible that there were other men from the house skirmishing
around in the darkness to our rear, and aided with guns and those dogs,
would they run us down?
The third person, stepping a little in advance of the others, said: "Get
back to the fence; there's somebody up on the road."
They scattered, and in a moment more suppressed voices were heard coming
from an opposite direction, or _down_ the road.
We were between two enemies, but, fortunately, for us, on the opposite
side and behind a big fence crouching in some elderberry bushes. My
companion, as still as a log, was probably, like myself, so badly scared
that he couldn't trust his voice to whisper a thought.
Two men--one in his shirt-sleeves, and the other in rebel uniform, which
I so well recognized, as the same old grey I had been familiar with at
Pensacola and Montgomery, came cautiously down the road. As they were
almost directly opposite me, one of the three who had come _up_ the
hill, accosted them familiarly:
"Helloa, Billy; you like to scairt us to death. I thought the Yankees
had put you and your light out sure."
At once there was mutual hand-shaking, laughter and general hilarity,
that served to draw attention away from ourselves and the dogs. The man
in his shirt-sleeves explained that he had kept his light in the window
all right, until a little while previously, when the dogs scared up
something, and he took it down, until he was sure everything was all
right.
So here was a signal station, and a rendezvous. I took courage when the
party began to move off toward the house, and, as they passed my
loophole, _I discovered, to my astonishment, that one of the three who
had come up the road was none other than the young man I had seen in
General Patterson's headquarters_, accompanying the old gentleman, and
both of whom were so cordially entertained by our General's staff. Here
he was, a _direct_ messenger from headquarters of our army, meeting, by
a concerted signal, a Rebel officer in the enemy's country.
That was news, sure enough; and they had hardly gotten out of sight
before I shocked my torpid friend as I, with an emphasis he did not
understand, told him that we must both skin back to our army
headquarters _at once_.
I wouldn't leave him to return alone with such important information,
but together we would go direct to General Patterson's presence, and
tell him that there were no Rebels confronting him; that the enemy had
positive and direct information of his position and probable plans.
"The best laid plans of mice and men, gang aft agley."
As previously indicated, I had intended to go straight through the rebel
armies to Manassas, and so on to Washington via General McDowell's army
and the Long Bridge. In pursuance of this plan, we had cleverly escaped
from our own pickets during the early hours of the night, successfully
tramped miles into the Rebels' country without meeting a
challenge--eluding any pickets or outlooks the rebels may have had out,
by a careful avoidance of all the roads or other usual routes of travel.
But I had no intention of putting myself any closer to the fellow whom I
had met the day previously at General Patterson's headquarters, and whom
I had just discovered to be a rebel spy, in communication with the man
in the rebel uniform, and the farmer in his shirt-sleeves. Had I tried
the Maryland refugee dodge on this gathering of scouts, who were
familiar with all the border, he would have recalled having seen me at
General Patterson's headquarters, and an explanation would have been
embarrassing.
Luckily for the two scouts, who were lying in the bushes within sound of
their voices, there was such an exuberance of good feeling among
themselves over their meeting, after the little scare, that it had the
effect of putting the entire party off their guard for the moment. No
attention was paid to the antics of the dogs, which were whining and
nosing around, uncomfortably close to our hiding-place in the
fence-corner. The farmer, growing impatient at their noises, which
interfered with the conversation, greatly to our relief, drove them back
toward the house.
The only enemy we had expected to find were the rebel soldiers in gray
uniform, with muskets in their hands, standing on guard. We had not
calculated on their,
"Letting slip the dogs of war,"
or else we might have provided ourselves with a few poisoned dog
buttons; of course, we couldn't use our pistols on the dogs, as that
would jeopardize our lives; the report would arouse the country and
locate us; so, like Lear,
"Mine enemy's dog,
Though he had hit me, should have stood that night
Against my fire."
The five men and the--I don't know how many dogs--had scarcely gotten
out of sight when my comrade and I energetically started on the back
track. I am ready to admit that we ran, that we ran fast, even though we
didn't see where we were going, in the dark; and I confess that I was in
the lead, but my comrade kept up with me pretty well. We ran over the
soft, grassy fields in the direction from whence we had come, for a long
time without either of us speaking a word. When nearly out of breath and
exhausted we let up a little, to get our second wind for the final run,
if any more miserable dogs should get onto our scent.
"Say," gasped my comrade, breathing hard, "I think you cut my head open
when you jumped onto me, when that hog scared you; it's all bloody,
ain't it?"
I didn't stop long enough then to examine his head; I was in too much of
a hurry, and, besides, it was too dark to distinguish blood. I replied
to him rather testily, perhaps, as I didn't quite relish the reminder of
being scared by a sleeping hog.
"I wasn't scared at all--just merely _startled_--and if you hadn't been
holding onto my coat tails so closely, you wouldn't have been hurt."
"Oh, hell! didn't you tell me to keep close to you?" he retorted,
savagely, as he rubbed his head, and looked at the moist hand to see if
he could distinguish the color of blood.
"And you wouldn't go ahead, either, unless I was right on top of you,
and, if I did get behind a little, you stopped for me to catch up."
I forged on ahead sullenly, too mad to continue the conversation
further, except to say, petulantly:
"I believe I am bleeding at the temple myself, from having bumped your
thick head so hard when I turned round to caution you not to tramp on
that hog."
But my companion was in too bad a humor--we both were--to laugh over the
ridiculous mishap, which I am sure was as painful to myself as to him.
We trudged along in the dark in sulky silence for some distance further,
each nursing his sore head in wrath.
I ventured the suggestion, by way of a compromise to my cross companion,
that if he had taken the lead in our approach to the house, as I had
earnestly urged upon him, I might have been in as bad a fix as himself.
To this offer of a compromise he curtly replied:
"No; I wouldn't have tried to jump out of my skin, just because I had
kicked a sleeping sow in a fence-corner." He had scarcely finished
speaking when he stumbled square across the back of an old cow, that was
quietly lying in the grass chewing her cud; but cows, you know, are not
so sudden in their movements as hogs, when they are startled out of
their sleep. This one, anyway, didn't make any unearthly noise or
snorts, nor attempt to jump up and run off, but lay still, quietly
chewing away, apparently perfectly unconcerned.
I believe she would have allowed a whole army to have crawled over her
without disturbing her repose, but the incident served to put us both in
a laughing humor. I concluded, however, that I'd had enough experience
with the hogs and cows of Virginia, while we were trying to navigate the
fields, and I would take to the highway and risk the short cut back.
The night was dark, very dark, having become more so than when we were
on the way out. Clouds had obscured almost every star, and, to make it
still worse, we heard at times distant thunder. "The lowering elements
scowled o'er the already darkened landscape," compelling us to almost
grope our way along the old country road; but, luckily for us, we were
now on the broad, well-traveled country road between two lines of fence,
which served to keep us in the right course, as we cautiously felt our
way with outstretched hands, and eyes peering into the darkness ahead,
fearing every moment to come in contact with _something_ that would give
us another "start."
To the sounds of the thunder, which were not now so remote, were added
occasional flashes of lightning; these, had I been at home in a
comfortable bed, would probably have only produced the agreeable
influence of lulling me into the enjoyment of a more snug sleep, but out
there, on that road that night, the effect was quite different on both
of us.
We were yet a long way from our camp--how far we had no means of
knowing, as our route into Virginia had been somewhat circuitous, on
account of the necessary avoidance of all the roads.
Pretty soon the big drops began to fall over us; the lightning flashes
were more vivid and frequent; the thunder seemed to be all around us;
then it rained in earnest, an old-fashioned, Virginia, summer-night's
rain, wetting the two miserable scouts to the skin in a little while. It
was no use to look for shelter, and we both resolutely made up our minds
to grin and bear it; pulling our hats down and shrugging up our
shoulders, we sullenly tramped along that Virginia highway, two as
forlorn-looking objects as may be imagined.
In this frame of mind we stumbled right into another road obstruction.
We had come upon it in this raging storm from the rear, and found the
place vacant. We captured the fort, which we could see from the now
frequent flashes of lightning was simply a slight mound of earth thrown
across and extending some distance to each side of the road, in the form
of a rifle pit; embrasures were made for cannon, and through one of
these peered a log, or stick of wood, shaped like an iron cannon, the
rear end or breech of which was supported on a saw-horse platform of
crossed sticks. On the crest of their "works" were placed some fence
rails, while in front, and some little distance down, some trees had
been felled over the road, their branches being stripped of the leaves
to answer the purpose of an abatis. In the darkness, we were unable to
discover any signs of the place having ever been occupied by the rebel
forces.
My companion recklessly began striking matches, which he had been able
to keep in a dry place on his person, but, luckily for us, perhaps, had
there been any one set to watch the place, and who might be only seeking
a temporary shelter from the storm, his attempts to illuminate were
frustrated by the gusts of wind and rain, which blew the light out as
quickly as it was born.
Tired, wet, hungry and disgusted with ourselves, we sat down there in
the enemy's camp to rest--if sitting on a log in a blinding rain-storm
for an hour may be called resting--but we could do nothing else; the
night was too dreadfully dark, and the wind and rain too blustering to
allow us to safely travel on the winding roads, which lead through long
strips of woods that seemed to paint everything, if possible, with a
deeper gloom; beside this, we had discovered, by the lightning flashes,
that the road in our front was blockaded by fallen trees, and the
thought occurred to us that on this road there might be some Rebel
guards seeking protection from the storm in some sheltered places.
My companion was so utterly discomfited and dejected that he refused
positively to move a step further, saying:
"I'm going to stay right here till somebody comes and takes me away. I
don't care whether it's Rebels or not."
So we held the fort, he finally succeeding in lighting up a little fire
against and under an old log that had covered some little twigs from the
storm.
"There's no danger of anybody coming out here to-night to see our fire,
or bother us," said my comrade. "Nobody would be as foolish as we are,
to be caught out to-night."
If we had been surprised in that condition, it's probable enough we
could easily have palmed off the Maryland refugee story, and have
obtained credit for our self-sacrificing devotion, in trying to overcome
such dreary difficulties in getting into the Confederate lines.
I reasoned that this would be all right for him, if I were only sure of
not running across the chap who had seen me at General Patterson's
headquarters while I was presenting a letter from the Secretary of War
proposing the spy service. My companion, who had not so much to risk,
continued growling:
"Why, if we should get to the river, or run across some of our pickets
in this darkness, they'd be sure to go off at half-cock, and shoot us
before we had a chance to say beans."
This was a convincing argument with me. We were still between two fires.
I agreed to wait for more light. I was anxious, however, that our
officers should have the information we had obtained--that General
Joseph E. Johnston's army _was not_ in General Patterson's front, and
the dreadful masked batteries, which were so much feared by our
generals, were merely bush fortresses, thrown across the roads, or laid
out shrewdly to deceive our officers. There were no soldiers and no
cannon near them; and, moreover, the enemy was in communication _direct
with General Patterson's headquarters_, as we could prove, and probably
knew all his plans, while he was wholly ignorant of the probable escape
of Johnston's whole force.
As I sat there, like a disconsolate toad, on that log, in the pelting
rain, I pondered these things in my mind, until I became so nervous that
I could scarcely keep still. Every moment was valuable. I determined to
start again as soon as the rain would let up a little. But the elements
seemed to be against us; it not only rained, but it poured, for the
balance of the night, making the daylight later than usual.
My companion became sleepy and dreadfully stupid, and was apparently
lost to all fear for his own safety. My time was pretty much occupied in
trying to keep our little bit of fire from going out. Before I was fully
aware of it, the grey daylight was mixing with the black, which was
beginning to thin out as the rain slackened off somewhat. I soon began
to distinguish objects in the landscape short distances away. A large
farmhouse situated only a short distance to our rear was revealed, but
being off the road, as is the custom in that country, we had passed it
in our tramp along the road during the night.
If there were any guard at all for that place, they were probably
comfortably housed there while the storm raged without, but they would
probably be aroused bright and early in the morning, to look after their
wooden guns. I kept my eyes strained toward this house for some sign of
life, but not seeing anything, not even smoke from the chimneys, nor a
dog in the yard, I turned wearily for a lookout in the direction of our
own country, to try and discover, if possible, how far we were yet from
our friends.
The rain had now ceased. My comrade, leaning against a log, was sleeping
out loud; he didn't present a particularly attractive appearance,
either; though a handsome young fellow, with black hair and eyes, and a
fine form, he certainly was not a sleeping beauty; but, lying against a
smoky old log, his eyes closed, but a capacious mouth hung wide enough
open to have answered for the mouth of a cannon, the whole side of his
face smeared with blood, that had oozed from the head, after the
concussion over the hog, while the other half of his handsome face,
being next to the smoky fire, over which he had been nodding in his
sleep, was begrimed with the smoke and ashes that had adhered to his wet
skin; the wet, dripping clothes were, of course, clinging to his manly
form in anything but an attractive style. I felt that if I were nearly
as ugly as he, the appearance of two such objects would be sufficient to
frighten off anybody that might approach us, and I took renewed courage
from this fact.
I turned from the contemplation of this ludicrous scene to again take an
observation. In the direction of our lines this time I thought I
discovered something moving along the edge of the wood. I was about to
conclude that I had been mistaken, when I was startled by the appearance
of two men, standing together some distance below, apparently talking
earnestly, as one of them pointed up the road toward our fort.
I was in a condition of mind and body to be chilled by anything at that
time, and imagined that we had been discovered and were being surrounded
to prevent our escape. Running back to my partner, I roughly shook him
up, saying we had to move quickly. The stupid fellow, opening one eye,
refused to stir. Giving him another good shake, I again repeated the
warning. He slowly realized his position, and stared wildly about.
I dragged him over to where he might see the two men who were standing
down the road, and endeavored to point out the danger; apparently not
yet fully awake, he coolly crawled up on the felled tree, which was
lying across the road, as if to get a better look at them, before I
could pull him down. We were in for a run or a fight sure. I suppose my
freely-expressed indignation at his absurd conduct had the effect of
rousing him from his lethargy, as he seemed suddenly to come to his
senses and was now ready to move off quickly enough.
To be caught by the Rebels attempting to go toward our line would put us
in a bad plight. The men whom we had seen had disappeared at this ugly
apparition on the log as suddenly as if the ground had opened and
swallowed them up; whether they would come on up, or go for
reinforcements, we didn't know.
We evacuated that fort, our line of retreat being in a course bearing
toward our own lines, and leading us further from the two men.
We scampered through the wet underbrush and grass of the woods, every
step being a slosh to the shoe-tops, while every bush dashed against our
already well-soaked clothes all the water it had gathered in its leaves
and branches from the rain of the night.
Early morning is the safest time for a scout to do his traveling, and we
went straight along unimpeded, save by the wet undergrowth, and the
disagreeable necessity of clambering over slimy old logs and fences,
reaching the place where our pickets should have been while it was yet
quite early. Here we made a mistake. Instead of attempting to pass back
through our lines, as we had escaped out in the early evening previous,
we thought that, being so tired, and wet, hungry, and so generally
used-up, we might just as well approach boldly and surrender to our own
pickets, knowing that we should be all right when once within our lines
and our story of Johnston's retreat was told.
My companion being a member of a regiment that had performed picket
duty, had some practical experience with the boys, and was, in
consequence, quite uncertain as to the manner in which our flag-of-truce
would be received by the men on guard; he said that, while on that duty
himself, his instructions were to "fire at anything he saw moving, no
matter what it was," and he was apprehensive the members of his own
regiment would immediately bang away at us if we made an appearance out
there.
"But, we will show them a flag-of-truce."
"Oh, that's nothing; there's some fellows in my company crazy to shoot
at something, and they don't know a white from a black flag."
As it was daylight, there was no other way to get in, except by laying
over in the woods till night, and this we couldn't think of doing in our
miserable condition; beside this, we were hungry.
Feeling it to be a duty to risk even a fire from our own green pickets,
to get in quickly with our information for General Patterson, I
concluded to try the flag-of-truce project. Looking carefully about to
see that we were not liable to an attack in the rear while making this
advance, I picked up a stick in the woods, and tied to it, in the form
of a flag, an exceedingly dirty, white handkerchief, and, after all was
ready, with my hat in one hand, the flag well advanced in the other, I
started out to make the communication, my comrade keeping close to me,
there being no danger of tramping on a hog in broad daylight.
We had scarcely gotten out of the woods when I began waving the old
handkerchief so wildly that the stick broke in two, dropping the flag on
the ground. I grabbed up the remnant, nervously, for fear they might
fire, and again waved it as we moved forward. We saw a commotion among
our men--one or two blue coats were running around, as if to report the
phenomenon that appeared before them. Walking ahead more rapidly, as we
gained confidence from their not shooting at us, we were soon within
hailing distance, and walked into their line nervously, and watched a
half-dozen fellows clutching muskets which we knew were loaded, and
might go off. Suddenly we were surrounded by all the guard who were not
on post, who were anxious to see some real live, repentant rebels come
into the Union again. That army had not yet seen a Rebel.
What a sorry looking couple we were to be sure. Dirty faces, and bloody
heads, smoked about the eyes in a manner to make us ludicrous indeed,
our clothes wet, dripping wet; and clinging to our bodies in rags, our
tramp through the bushes having almost torn them off us.
The boys were cooking their early camp breakfast; through their kindness
we each had some coffee and bread. I am a coffee-drinker now, and am,
perhaps, a little cranky on the subject. I buy the best coffee, and have
tried every patent coffee-pot that has ever been brought out, but I have
not yet been able to find as delicious a cup of the beverage as was
given me in a quart tin cup, with brown sugar and no cream, on the banks
of the Potomac, in July, 1861.
While we were enjoying the hospitality of the boys, all of whom were
greatly amused at our absurd appearance, and interested in our night's
adventure, which my companion could not resist the temptation of
exaggerating to his friends, the officer of the guard had reported his
catch to his colonel, who peremptorily ordered us into his presence.
Without allowing us an opportunity to wash or clean up, we were marched,
like two prisoners, between two files of soldiers with fixed bayonets,
through several camps, amid the laughter and jeers of the crowds which
were attracted by the odd show.
Approaching the Pennsylvania-Dutch Colonel's tent, we were ordered, in a
rough, dogmatic way, to make an explanation of our being in the enemy's
lines. I was offended at the rude manner of the officer, and my feelings
had been sorely wounded by being marched in this humiliating way through
his camp; being resentful, I spunkily informed the colonel that I should
not report or explain anything to him; that my report would be to _his
superior only_--General Patterson.
A crowd had gathered about us, whom the arrogant Colonel had proposed to
entertain by an exhibition of his authority and our discomfiture, and my
speech so angered him that he was ready to run me through with his
sword. He swore in Pennsylvania-Dutch, and again demanded my
explanation, which I firmly declined to give.
He was too angry to appeal to my comrade, but, in high military dudgeon,
ordered us both to the guard-house, saying to the officer who had
brought us there:
"Those two men had been on a drunk, and had been fighting each other, as
any fool could see from their black eyes and bloody noses--put them both
in the guard-house;" and he did.
There we remained nearly all that day, denied, by the stupidity and
offended dignity of the colonel, the permission I begged of being
allowed to communicate with General Patterson.
I presume he sincerely believed we had been off on a regular jamboree
_en tare_ during the night, but it was a terribly rough joke on me, and
the second time during the first four months of the war that I had been
held a prisoner by our own officers while engaged in the performance of
an exceedingly dangerous duty for the benefit of the Union cause. I
again resolved, in my own mind, more firmly than before, that I should
never again undertake any secret service.
My interview with General Patterson's Chief-of-staff--Fitz-John
Porter--on presentation of my note of introduction from the Secretary of
War, had been so unsatisfactory, that I naturally felt some misgivings
as to the outcome of a second attempt in the same direction,
particularly as this trip had not been authorized, but was, in fact,
carried out independently and almost in opposition to the expressed
disapproval of headquarters.
I felt, too, that being escorted to the General's presence, between two
soldiers from a guard-house, without the opportunity to repair my dress
and appearance, would not help the doubting and disdainful
Chief-of-staff to a more favorable opinion of myself; and the
recommendation the Dutch Colonel would be sure to send along with me
would not be likely to create in the minds of the General's advisers a
flattering opinion as to the reliability of our story.
I could get no satisfaction from the officers in charge at the
guard-house as to our ultimate disposition. In reply to my appeals to be
permitted to report to headquarters in person, I was directed to state
my case in writing, and it would be forwarded through the regular
channels. I knew very well that this circumlocution meant delay--that in
this case delays would be dangerous, as any papers filed would have to
be inspected by the officer of the guard, the captain, colonel,
brigadier and major general, probably requiring a day at each of these
headquarters before it would reach the Assistant-adjutant-general at
headquarters.
Beside, I had no intention of submitting my special business to an
inspection by every officer in camp before it should reach the proper
authority, and so informed the officer who had been sent by the Colonel
to obtain from me information as to my business with the General.
My comrade had been separated from me early in the day, and sent to his
own company in arrest and disgrace; he had probably told his story to
his own officers, who, knowing something of the young man, believed him,
and in this way my case, which promised to be a lonely imprisonment for
some days, was more speedily brought to the General's notice.
The young officer who had been sent to gather from me the account of our
trip seemed to be favorably impressed by my urgent prayer to be
permitted to report to General Patterson, and kindly offered to do all
he could to gratify my desire. It was a long time, however, before I was
able to hear from anybody outside of the sentry, who stood guard over me
with a loaded musket.
During all those anxiously waiting hours, when I lay in the guard-house,
Rebel General J. E. Johnston was rapidly getting further away, or at
least making himself more secure with fewer troops in his present
position, and I was brutally denied the privilege of informing our
headquarters of the facts we had obtained, after a night of hard work,
danger and misery combined. At last, about 4 P. M., I was notified to
accompany my young officer to headquarters, to report. The young
gentleman courteously granted me the privilege of washing and dressing
myself up in the best way I could--he generously aiding me by the tender
of a collar, brushes, etc. After a long walk, which was quite tiresome
after the exercise of the night previous in the rain, we reached
headquarters, where I was met at once by General Porter, who politely
enough heard my story through, questioning me closely as to several
points in a manner which, I augured, showed some interest in the work we
had undertaken.
With a simple word of thanks he was ready to dismiss me, and the
subject, as a matter of no consequence, when I ventured to ask his
opinion as to the value of our researches.
"Well," he replied, "as I told you previously, the General does not
place any reliance upon information of this character; we have had
conflicting reports, and do not rely upon it."
"But," I said, "it is undoubtedly true that there are no rebels near
us."
"But we have _reliable_ information to the contrary, and more recent
than yours."
This was indeed a stunner. How could it be. I was positive there had
been no enemy near during the night, and mildly suggested that, if there
were any Rebels there, they had come while I was confined in the Dutch
Colonel's guard-house.
Porter merely laughed in a patronizing way, as he dismissed me, saying:
"You can make that report to Washington; it won't do here. We know all
about Johnston."
"Well, one thing is sure, Johnston knows all about you, too."
I left headquarters in a frame of mind closely allied to frenzy. I was
beginning to think that I must be crazy, because the general
headquarter's atmosphere and style seemed to have about it an air of
authority that could not be disputed; and when Porter said he had
information, _reliable and more recent_ than I had tried to give I began
to feel that he _must_ be right, and we all wrong.
Walking off, dejectedly, but again free to go as I pleased, I hunted up
my companion of the night before, to offer any assistance in my power
to secure his release from confinement. I found his company, and had a
general consultation with him, in the presence of some line officers, in
which it was agreed that our report of the situation was generally
believed throughout the army; but, said my comrade:
"There were two other fellows out last night, and they came back right
after we did, and reported that they had found a big Fort on top of a
hill; that there were camp fires blazing all around it, and six men
jumped up on the works and chased them two miles."
It flashed upon me in a moment, and I said, laughingly:
"Why they must be the two fellows we saw while in the Fort, and that you
scared off when you got up on that log."
After a further comparison of notes, it was agreed by all that this was
the more _reliable_ and recent information General Porter had obtained.
Our little smoky fire had been magnified into a hundred rebel camp
fires, and the blunder of my comrade in mounting the parapet had turned
to our benefit, in frightening off two of our own scouts. We were not
aware, however, that we had chased them through the wet woods--it being
our purpose and intent to run away from them; and we believed we were
going in an opposite direction all the time.
I was abundantly satisfied with the night and day's experience; and
leaving my friend to make any further explanations to General Porter, or
headquarters, I availed myself of the opportunity to take an evening
train, which carried me to Chambersburg, where among relatives and
friends I was able to replenish my scanty wardrobe.
The following Sunday, First Bull Run was _fought_ and _lost_.
There have been many reasons given the public, officially and otherwise,
in explanation of this disaster, one of which has not been officially
mentioned, and is in brief--that General Patterson, through his
Chief-of-staff, persistently declined to avail himself of information
concerning Johnston's movements, that had been voluntarily obtained,
after some hardships, by a scout, who had been endorsed to him by the
Secretary of War as being reliable and trustworthy.
I have not seen General Fitz-John Porter since July, 1861, that I know
of. We all know he was a gallant soldier, whom I should honor as a
native of my own state; but, without questioning his loyalty, I venture
the opinion that General Patterson (who was 69 years old at that time)
was by his (Porter's) influence or over-caution prevented from pressing
General Johnston, as he had been ordered; and is, therefore, indirectly,
responsible for Johnston's timely reinforcement of Beauregard, which
made the rebel victory possible.
And I believe the same over-caution or influence was brought to bear on
General McClellan at the critical hour at Antietam, and prevented his
following up the victory at that time.