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THE DISPATCH CARRIER
--AND--
MEMOIRS OF ANDERSONVILLE PRISON
BY
COMRADE WM. N. TYLER,
COMPANY I, NINTH ILLINOIS CAVALRY, COMPANY B, NINETY-FIFTH
ILLINOIS VOLUNTEER INFANTRY.
Price, 25 Cents.
PORT BYRON, ILL.:
PORT BYRON "GLOBE" PRINT.
1892.
THE DISPATCH CARRIER
--BY--
COMRADE WM. N. TYLER,
CO. I, 9TH ILL. CAV.; CO. B, 95TH ILL. VOL. INF.
A THRILLING DESCRIPTION OF THE ADVENTURES
OF A DISPATCH CARRIER IN THE LATE WAR; THE
CAPTURE, IMPRISONMENT, ESCAPE AND RE-CAPTURE
OF A UNION SOLDIER--A COMPLETE
NARRATIVE OF A SOLDIER'S
INDIVIDUAL EXPERIENCE IN THE
CIVIL WAR, FROM 1861 TO 1865,
AS WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.
SECOND EDITION.
PORT BYRON, ILL.:
PORT BYRON "GLOBE" PRINT.
1892.
PREFACE.
Books, as a general rule, have prefaces. I write a preface to this book,
not because I think it necessary, but because it is customary. I did not
keep a diary, and it may be that I have not given the right date every
time, but there is nothing in this book but what is strictly true, and
the most of it is my own personal experience and that of my comrades who
participated in my adventures while a soldier. The reason I do not give
the names of my comrades is because they are scattered to the four
quarters of the globe, and I do not know where they are except a few who
live neighbors to me, and I have no right to use their names without
their consent.
I will give a thrilling description of my experience as a dispatch
carrier and finally my capture and imprisonment, escape and recapture,
and will also give a complete description of being chased by blood
hounds and other incidents too numerous to mention.
Yours Truly,
THE AUTHOR.
Rapids City, Ills., 1892.
CHAPTER I.
At the outbreak of the Great Civil War in 1861, I was 23 years of age, a
stout, healthy young man, not knowing what it was to have a sick day;
had always worked on a farm and worked hard, too. In the latter part of
April, news was received that Fort Sumter had been fired upon; everybody
acted as if they were crazy; all wanted to enlist. I was one of the
first to enlist in a three months' regiment, but that failed to go on
account of not having arms, so I was forced to go back to my home, which
was four miles south of Belvidere, Ill. In September, 1861, they started
to get up a company of cavalry at Belvidere. I was one of the first to
enlist in that, after which I was appointed sergeant. We were sent to
Camp Douglas, Chicago. It did not take long to fill up our regiment,
neither did it take long to get our horses and saddles ready; then we
commenced to drill. What a time some of our men had; some had never
driven a horse in their lives and there is where the fun comes in,
especially after we had drawn our spurs. The next move after we had
drawn our spurs and saddles was when Col. Brackett ordered the bugle to
sound the call to fall in for drill. The whole regiment was on hand with
their horses all saddled and bridled for a drill. You must remember that
our horses were well fed and in the best condition; full of life and
spirit. It was all some of us could do to make them keep their place in
the ranks.
"Now," said the Colonel, "When I tell you to mount you must put your
left foot in the stirrup and grasp the reins and the mane with your left
hand, and at the word 'mount,' all mount together." "Mount" was the
command. Well, we did make the effort to all mount together but you
should have seen them; the horses started off in every direction,
pell-mell over the field; some were dragged along on the ground with
their feet in the stirrups, while others were on their horses all right,
but the harder the horses ran, the harder they stuck in their spurs; one
poor fellow let go all hold and grabbed the head and mane; stirrups flew
in every direction and he went straight for the barn. Now our stables
were all three hundred feet long; away went horse and rider, straight
for the center of the barn; just as the horse got within four feet of
the stable, it came to a sudden halt, but the rider went on with a
crash through the side of the barn; he could not have made a cleaner
hole if he had been shot out of a cannon. I must say he came out pretty
lucky; of course he was bruised and stiff legged for a day or two but
that was all. Some of the men got hurt very severely but it did not take
long for us to find out that we had to keep our toes in and our heels
out. We had not drawn any arms yet and all we had to mount guard with
was simply a stick whittled out in shape of a sword. Our officers would
not allow any one out unless they had a pass from the Colonel. The
guards were placed around the camp to keep the men from going out but
many nights did the boys run the guard. If by chance one of the men was
out after sundown, the guard was supposed to keep him out or arrest him
and turn him over to the sergeant of the guard, but this was generally
the way it was done around Camp Douglas: Now, here comes some one who
has stayed out after roll call; he comes straight up to the sentinel;
the sentinel speaks first: "Who comes there?" now if the man has been
out on permission, of course he has the countersign; then he will answer
back "A friend with the countersign," then the sentinel will say,
"Advance, friend, and give the countersign," and after giving it the
sentinel then passes him in, but let me tell you, we did not always go
according to discipline while we were at Chicago. This is the way we had
among ourselves: Now here comes one who has been out too late. "Halt!
who comes there?" "A friend with a canteen." "Advance and draw the
stopple." The next thing you will see the sentinel look toward heaven,
and hear a gurgling sound as of something going down his throat, then
finally a pair of lips would smack. "The countersign is correct, you may
pass in."
We had a great many ways of amusing ourselves, some played cards, some
foot ball, some one thing and some another, but after all the time hung
heavy on our hands for we were all anxious to get into active service.
The first of February, 1862, we got marching orders for St. Louis, Mo.
Our officers then gave us passes to go home, it being our last chance
before leaving for the field. I never shall forget that last visit: how
my old mother, wife, and two little ones followed me to the train, how
my blessed old mother put her arms around my neck and while the tears
were running down those old wrinkled cheeks, called on God to bless her
boy. Oh, that parting! how can we forget it, comrades? to pick up the
little ones and give them one long last hug, good bye, wife, little
ones, mother, and we were gone: yes, gone. The next thing was the shrill
scream of the engine and we commenced to move slowly out of the depot.
The train was mostly loaded with soldiers, all leaving homes, going to
fight for their country. There was no screaming or yelling, for they had
just parted from their wives, mothers and homes, perhaps never to see
them again.
Now just look over the coach of young soldiers in the first flush of
manhood; can they all get back to their homes? No, reader, not three out
of five.
On we went, every one of those young soldiers knew what they were going
for; one could see by their sober, determined faces that they had
weighed their chances and had given all for their country.
When we arrived at Chicago, we found everything in a great state of
excitement. We were to embark our horses, equipments, and board the
train for St. Louis. All was hurly burly; we had to blindfold our horses
in order to get them on the train; finally, all was ready and away we
went for St. Louis.
On the 16th of February, 1862, we started for Benton Barracks. At Alton,
Ill., we boarded a steamboat for St. Louis; after arriving there we
saddled our horses and took them off on the levee, mounted, and
commenced our march through the city for Benton Barracks. The streets
were lined with people and as the flag bearer unfurled our regimental
flag, and as it floated out on the breeze, you could plainly read in
large gold letters, "Ninth Illinois Cavalry." We could hear on every
side, "What a splendid regiment!" I think I have every reason for being
proud of my regiment; all were fine looking young men, fine horses, and
as fine a Colonel as ever drew a saber. Col. Brackett was as true and
brave an officer as ever wore soldier straps, as the reader will find
out if he follows the pages of this true narrative.
As we marched through the streets of St. Louis some hurrahed for the
Ninth Illinois Cavalry, while others cursed us to our faces and some
yelled, "You won't sit so straight in those saddles when you get down
South; you will find lots there that are only two by six." That meant we
would find our graves. We paid no attention to their taunts but kept on
up through the streets. While we were on Fourth street a woman thrust
her head out of a window in the second story, and exclaimed, "Hurrah for
the Ninth Illinois Cavalry and the girl I left behind me!" That set the
boys all in good humor, and we arrived at Benton Barracks without any
further adventure worthy of note.
The Barracks were somewhat in the shape of a square, only a good deal
longer than it was wide. They were built to accommodate about fifty
thousand troops. The parade ground covered one hundred acres, and the
barracks were all around the parade grounds. I do not know just how many
troops were there when we were, but should judge that there were about
thirty thousand, all waiting for arms, as we had not drawn any as yet
ourselves.
Our stables were just in the rear of our quarters, and about all we had
to do was to take care of our horses and drill once a day. Sometimes
some of our boys were a little quarrelsome, and if a man wanted to fight
it did not take long for him to find someone who would accommodate him.
Our officers hardly ever interfered; they said it was better to let them
fight it out than to be everlastingly quarreling, and it proved to be
the best in the long run, for after we got into the field there was
hardly ever any fighting among our own men.
Well, the 22d of February came around, Washington's birthday, and there
was a grand parade of all the soldiers of Benton Barracks. Every soldier
had to fall into line to march through the city of St. Louis. Now,
reader, step out of the barracks and take a look up and down the long
parade ground; first come the buglers, now the drummer and fifers, then
the regimental bands, all playing at once; look at the soldiers coming
out of the barracks; the parade ground is blue with them as far as the
eye can reach, all taking their positions in the ranks. Bugles are
sounding, drums, fifes and bands are playing. Then Col. Brackett comes
up, "Prepare to Mount!" "Mount!" is the command, and the whole regiment
is in saddles. "March," the regiment is in motion. Then Gen. Smith comes
along in front of our regiment. "Well," said he, "I have seen some very
fine looking regiments this morning but I must say that the 'Ninth
Illinois Cavalry' takes the cake for fine appearance." Now, reader, do
not blame us if we did straighten up a little more in our saddles and
try to look more like soldiers.
Away we went; now look back and see the boys in blue coming; first
cavalry and artillery, then infantry, bands playing and flags flying.
Oh, what a sight! On we go through the city, which has taken on a
holiday garb. Every window is full of flags; every place of business
shows the stars and stripes, and taking it altogether it was a beautiful
sight. The 23d of February we drew our sabers and revolvers. We
received marching orders for Pilot Knob, Mo., whither we started to the
lower end of the city, and camped out on the levee. I shall never forget
that night; the first night we had ever camped out. The piercing cold
wind from the river with no tents to help break it, chilled us through;
no wonder no one slept that night. The next morning we put our horses on
the train and started for Pilot Knob. After arriving we went to camp in
and around the place. It was a very mountainous country, one mountain
after another as far as you could see. We divided off into squads, and
every squad had their cooks appointed; we then came down to government
rations, hard tack and pork, and you can bet it was hard tack and no
mistake; you could scarcely break it with a hammer. We pitched our tents
and went into camp life in dead earnest. The citizens told us that the
Johnnies had just vacated the place and everybody was on the lookout the
first night for an attack from the enemy. Out on the picket could be
heard shot after shot, it being the first night, it kept the camp in a
state of excitement. I do not think there was a rebel within forty miles
of us; the pickets simply got frightened at the hogs that were running
around through the brush. The hogs felt somewhat ashamed of the
excitement, and after the first night, our regiment came right up to
time and every soldier did his duty like a man.