Started with eight men on a trip to Arkansas river.—Hung a
“Scallawag” on White river—Went into Conway county.—Treachery
of a negro on Point Remove.—“Foot burning” atrocities.—Started
back and hung a renegade.
During the early part of the winter of 1864, several persons from the
vicinity of Lewisburg, Arkansas, came to our Headquarters and reported
trouble with the negroes and scallawags in that part of the State.
Lewisburg is a small town on the north side of the Arkansas river,
about fifty miles above Little Rock; the country around this place is
very fertile, and before the war, was inhabited by a wealthy class of
farmers of the highest cast of honor and intelligence, the most of whom
owned a large number of slaves. It seems that as soon as the ordinance
emancipating the slaves was enforced in that part of the country,
several scallawags from the free States, slipped in among the negroes,
whose especial duty seemed to be to incite the negroes to deeds of
villainy.
About Lewisburg they seemed to have been very successful in their
mission as insurrectionists, and the continued reports from that
quarter convinced us that a short campaign among them during the winter
might be beneficial. In January, 1865, I started with eight men, we
passed through Lawrence and Independence counties, and on reaching
the beautiful country bordering on White river, which had been in a
high state of cultivation before the war, but now sadly neglected, we
approached near the town of Batesville, when we learned that two or
three of the very animals we were hunting for were in that “neck of the
woods.” I left six of my men with our horses in a dense thicket, and
three of us started out separately to visit the negro cabins.
I had not proceeded far before I entered a dirty cabin of “colored
people,” whom I greeted very warmly. The household consisted of an
old man and woman, each about sixty years of age, and about six
others who were grown. The old man treated me with great politeness,
and would persist in calling me “Massa,” notwithstanding my repeated
objections. I talked to them some time on the subject of their freedom;
the old man gave me distinctly to understand that he considered their
condition much worsted by the change; but the youngsters seemed to be
in a high glee over their future prospects. I succeeded in gaining
their confidence by professing intense loyalty to their cause, and
ascertained beyond all doubt that a “Bosting man” had been through the
neighborhood to obtain their names and their pledges to support him for
Congress as soon as the war should close, with the solemn promise from
him that he would have all the land and the property of the whites
confiscated and given to them.
One of the boys showed me a paper which he said was a certificate
that he was to be the owner of the Anthony House in Little Rock. On
inquiring where I could find my “Bosting brother,” they told me that he
was “down about Lewisburg raising money from the Rebels to build school
houses for the colored people.”
After intimating that I was an officer of the Freedman‘s Bureau,
I was about to depart, when a tall, lank specimen of a genuine
Eastern philanthropist made his appearance at the door. After being
assured that I was “all right,” he remarked that he had been in
the neighborhood several days, and had made out a report of all
the property which would be confiscated as soon as he returned to
Washington. He proceeded to draw it out from the lining of his hat and
handed it to me to read, I fumbled about in my pockets for some time,
and then remarked that I had lost my spectacles; he then took the paper
and read it with a great deal of pomposity, commenting occasionally on
the names as he read them off.
I sanctioned the report heartily, and told him that it was bound to
win. He then remarked to the negroes that any assistance they could
render him in the way of money matters, would be thankfully received,
as he was working for their good alone. They contributed all the
money they had, which I think amounted to about six dollars. I arose
to depart, stating that I had promised to take dinner with some
colored friends about a mile from there, and insisted that my “brother
missionary” accompany me, to which he readily consented.
During our walk he laid before me many of his plots and plans, which
fully convinced me that he designated to excite the minds of the
negroes with the hope of ultimately expelling all the white people from
the State, except their immediate friends from the North.
We finally arrived at the place, but it proved to be a Rebel camp
instead of a negro cabin. On coming up to the boys my missionary seemed
to be badly alarmed, but made no show of resistance. We hung the
scallawag to a limb, where he remained until we got our dinner, then we
took him down and threw him into a hole of water, with a large stone
tied to his feet. We crossed White river at a ferry several miles below
Batesville, immediately after which we came suddenly upon a company of
twenty armed men dressed in citizen‘s clothes. As we were not posted
in regard to the state of affairs in that part of the State, we were
utterly at a loss to know to which side they belonged in this war.
We were first seen by a tall, awkward looking specimen of humanity,
who stepped out in front of us and questioned us about who we were and
where we were going.
He held in his hand a double-barreled gun large enough to have killed
all eight of us at one fire. Without answering his questions, as we
wished to take items before committing ourselves, I asked “where
is your Captain?” He replied that he was going to serve as captain
himself, and immediately made a remark that led us to understand that
they were merely a party starting out on a “bear hunt.”
At night we stopped at the Round Pond, and ascertained that there was
but little Union sentiment in that part of the State, and that we would
meet with no trouble from the Federals until we got into the counties
bordering on Arkansas river. We avoided a military camp at Clinton, not
knowing to a certainty whether they were Rebels or not.
We had no source of information upon which we could explicitly rely.
On arriving in Conway county we stayed all night with an old gentleman
on Point Remove; but being fearful that our horses might be stolen, we
concluded to sleep under a shed between the stable and the smokehouse.
About one o‘clock in the night we saw two negroes approaching the
smoke house very cautiously; after some little time they succeeded in
removing a log, when one of them crawled in. We made an attempt to
arrest the one on the outside, but he got away, followed by two shots,
which, however, missed him. A great consternation was produced in the
house, and out the old man came with a light. On taking our prisoner
out he made a clean breast of it; he confessed that he belonged to a
band of eight negroes, who were camped on the bank of Arkansas river,
between Point Remove and Gilmore‘s Landing; that they were led by a
white man, and were in the habit of robbing white people, and making
them tell where their money was concealed by burning their feet.
On the next morning he consented to pilot us to the place where they
were camped; but instead of taking us directly to the place, he took us
a mile around through the cane, and finally brought us back to within
two hundred yards of where we had been before, and then pointed to
their camp. Here it was, sure enough, but the birds had flown.
For this trick the body of a dead negro was soon discovered floating
down the muddy river.
I was much mortified in thus failing to squelch the foot-burning
scallawag who was leading the negroes on to such acts of cruelty; but
he succeeded in getting away and is no doubt by this time in Congress.
After remaining in the woods a few miles from Lewisburg for several
days without being able to do any good toward ferreting out the
“foot-burners,” we started back through Van Buren and Izard counties
without molesting any one until we got near a little town called
Mount Olive, where we captured a man whom we accidentally met in the
road. Several of my men knew him, and stated that he had been run off
from Bloomfield, Missouri, for professing loyalty during the second
year of the war, and thus betraying the confidence his neighbors had
hitherto placed in him. He was also accused of having had a man shot
near Bloomfield, by reporting on him; this accusation he virtually
acknowledged after we had captured him.
We took him a few hundred yards from the road, hung him to a limb, and
proceeded on through Lawrence county to our old headquarters.