“Do you remember the diamonds we found up at old Gray Jake Wagner’s
house when we were making that little raid around Taylorsville?” was
asked of Colonel Andrew M. Benson, of Portland, Me., by a former
companion with whom he was dining at Syracuse, N. Y. The colonel at
first failed to recall the circumstances, but on the mention of a
certain Miss Wagner’s name a relaxation of his features showed that
all recollection of the episode was not lost, and the dinner party
was soon in possession of the facts, as follows: In the latter part
of the year 1864, Colonel Benson, the captain of the First District
of Columbia cavalry, with Colonel James M. Gere, also captain at the
time, Colonel Walpole, of Syracuse, and Lieutenant Cornell, of Vermont,
were confined in the prison pen at Columbia, S. C., and during December
they escaped and made their way to Crab Orchard, on Doe River Cove.
There they found a company of 83 struggling Federal soldiers. Though
in the heart of the enemy’s country, the members of this little band
were suddenly stimulated to excessive bravery by thus meeting with
their fellows, and conceived it would be a fine joke to make a little
raid on Taylorsville, a village nearly 50 miles further north. The
daring of the scheme appeared when, upon examination, it was found
that 30 of the men had just one round of ammunition, while 31 had only
one extra charge. Six, however, were mounted, and, at the head of this
plucky detachment of cavalry Captain Benson was placed. Captain Gere
led the infantry, and the whole squad was in command of Lieutenant
James Hartley. Such was the make-up of the band that started out with
more pluck than powder to capture Taylorsville. About 40 miles of the
distance had been covered when the plantation of a rebel was reached
who was notorious in all the country round. A halt was ordered to treat
with the owner, Gray Jake Wagner, who was at that time just walking out
to feed his hogs.
“Oh, take what you want; but only spare my life,” cried Gray Jake
Wagner, throwing up his hands like a flash and dropping his pail
of swill as a bullet whistled past his ear, advising him of his
distinguished visitors.
“We want,” said Captain Benson, “whatever you have of use to us.” And
it took but a glance to tell the astonished planter that nothing could
come amiss to that ragged company so lately escaped from the horrors
of a rebel prison. Now, among other members of the Wagner family was a
pretty daughter of the old rebel, aged eighteen, who had just returned
from boarding school to spend the holidays. After listening to the
conversation with her father, and catching a glimpse of the visitors,
she ran frightened to her own room. The troops swarmed about the place
like bees and rushed into the house at every door. Several soldiers
soon found their way even to the room of the scared young lady and
demanded the immediate surrender of her revolver and ammunition.
“I have no revolver,” cried the frightened girl.
“You have,” yelled one of the soldiers with an oath, “and you will give
it up.” But at just this juncture the tall form of Captain Benson,
who was then a dashing officer of 28, appeared, and he took in the
situation at a glance. Drawing his revolver, he threatened to drop the
first man who touched a thing in that room or failed to leave without
a word. The men withdrew in silence, while the frightened Miss Wagner,
with tears and sobs, expressed her heartfelt thanks to her gallant
protector.
“What did you find in the house?” asked Captain Benson of the infantry
officer, as they left the place. “I found these diamonds,” he quietly
added, pointing to three glistening drops on his shoulder. The raid
did not extend very far beyond Gray Jake Wagner’s. Taylorsville, they
learned, was full of rebel soldiers, and the little party barely
managed to reach the Union lines.
Miss Wagner obtained in some way the address of her benefactor, and
afterward, by letter, it is said, she sent her thanks, which she could
only partially express in the excitement of their meeting.