JOHN JORDAN'S DANGEROUS JOURNEY.
Col. Garfield had already sent on his regiment in advance to Louisa,
twenty-eight miles up the Big Sandy.
There he joined them on the 24th, having waited at Catlettsburg only
long enough to forward to them necessary supplies.
The arrival of the regiment was opportune, for the district was
thoroughly alarmed. A regiment had been stationed there--the Fourteenth
Kentucky--but had hastily retreated to the mouth of the river during the
night of the 19th, under the impression that Marshall was advancing with
his forces to drive them into the Ohio. It was a false alarm, but the
Union citizens were very much alarmed, and were preparing with their
families to cross the river for safety. With the appearance of
Garfield's regiment a feeling of security returned.
I am anxious to make plain to my boy readers the manner in which the
young colonel managed his campaign. I think they will have no difficulty
in understanding that Garfield had two very difficult things to
accomplish. Colonel Craven knew nothing of Garfield's advance, nor of
his plans. It was necessary to inform him. Again, if possible, a
junction must be effected. The first was difficult, because the
intervening country was infested with roving bands of guerrillas, and a
messenger must take his life in his hands. How, again, could a junction
be effected in the face of a superior enemy, liable to fall upon either
column and crush it?
Obviously the first thing was to find a messenger.
Garfield applied to Col. Moore of the Fourteenth Kentucky, and made
known his need.
"Have you a man," he asked, "who will die rather than fail or betray
us?"
"Yes," answered the Kentuckian, after a pause, "I think I have. His name
is John Jordan, and he comes from the head of the Blaine."
This was a small stream which entered the Big Sandy, a short distance
from the town.
At the request of Garfield, Jordan was sent for. In a short time he
entered the tent of the Union commander.
This John Jordan was a remarkable man, and well known in all that
region. He was of Scotch descent, and possessed some of the best traits
of his Scotch ancestry. He was a born actor, a man of undoubted courage,
fertile in expedients, and devoted to the Union cause.
Garfield was a judge of men, and he was impressed in the man's favor at
first sight. He describes Jordan as a tall, gaunt, sallow man, about
thirty years of age, with gray eyes, a fine falsetto voice, and a face
of wonderful expressiveness. To the young colonel he was a new type of
man, but withal a man whom he was convinced that he could trust.
"Why did you come into this war?" he asked, with some curiosity.
"To do my share, colonel, and I've made a bargain with the Lord. I gave
Him my life to start with, and if He has a mind to take it, it's His.
I've nothing to say agin it."
"You mean you have come into the war, not expecting to get out of it
alive?"
"Yes, colonel."
"You know what I want you to do. Will you die rather than let this
dispatch be taken?"
"I will."
Garfield looked into the man's face, and he read unmistakable sincerity.
He felt that the man could be trusted, and he said so.
The dispatch was written upon tissue paper. It was then rolled into the
form of a bullet, coated with warm lead, and given into the hands of the
messenger. He was provided with a carbine and a brace of revolvers, and
when the moon was down, he mounted his horse in the darkness and set out
on his perilous journey.
It would not do to ride in the daytime, for inevitably he would be
stopped, or shot down. By day he must hide in the woods, and travel only
at night.
His danger was increased by the treachery of one of his own comrades of
the Fourteenth Kentucky, and he was followed by a band of guerrillas in
the Confederate interest. Of this, however, Jordan was not apprised, and
supposing himself secure he sought shelter and concealment at the house
of a man whom he knew to be loyal. Near enough to see, but not to be
seen, the guerrillas waited till the tired messenger was sleeping, and
then coming boldly out of the woods, surrounded the house.
In a fright the good housewife ran up to his chamber, and shook the
sleeping man.
"Wake for your life!" she said. "The guerrillas are outside, clamoring
for you. I have locked the doors, but I can not keep them out long."
Jordan had thrown himself on the bed with his clothes on. He knew that
he was liable to be surprised, and in such an event time was most
valuable. Though awakened from a sound sleep, he had all his wits about
him.
"Thank you," said he. "I have a favor to ask in the name of our cause."
"Be quick, then," said the woman. "They are bursting open the door."
"Take this bullet. It contains a secret dispatch, which, if I am killed,
I enjoin upon you to convey to Colonel Craven, at Paris. Will you do
it?"
"If I can."
"Then I am off."
The door burst open, but he made a sudden dash, and escaped capture. He
headed for the woods, amid a volley of bullets, but none of them reached
him. Once he turned round, and fired an answering shot. He did not stop
to see if it took effect, but it was the messenger of Death. One of the
guerrillas reeled, and measured his length upon the ground, dead in a
moment.
Fleet as a deer the brave scout pushed on till he got within the
protecting shadows of the friendly woods. There they lost the trail, and
though he saw them from his place of concealment, he was himself unseen.
"Curse him!" said the disappointed leader. "He must have sunk into the
earth, or vanished into the air."
"If he's sunk into the earth, that is where we want him," answered
another, with grim humor.
"You will find I am not dead yet!" said the hidden scout to himself. "I
shall live to trouble you yet."
He passed the remainder of the day in the woods, fearing that his
pursuers might still be lingering about.
"If there were only two or three, I'd come out and face 'em," he said,
"but the odds are too great. I must skulk back in the darkness, and get
back the bullet."
Night came on, and the woman who had saved him, heard a low tapping at
the door. It might be an enemy, and she advanced, and opened it with
caution. A figure, seen indistinctly in the darkness, stood before her.
"Who are you?" she asked doubtfully.
"Don't be afraid, ma'am, it's only me."
"And you--"
"Are the man you saved this morning!"
"God be thanked! Then you were not killed?"
"Do I look like a dead man? No, my time hasn't come yet. I foiled 'em in
the wood, and there I have spent all day. Have you any victuals, for I
am famished?"
"Yes, come in."
"I can not stay. I will take what you have and leave at once, for the
villains may be lurkin' round here somewhere. But first, the bullet!
have you that safe?"
"Here it is."
The scout put it in his pocket, and taking in his hand a paper box of
bread and meat which his loyal hostess brought him, resumed his
hazardous journey.
He knew that there were other perils to encounter, unless he was
particularly fortunate, but he had a heart prepared for any fate. The
perils came, but he escaped them with adroitness, and at midnight of the
following day he was admitted into the presence of Colonel Craven.
Surely this was no common man, and his feat was no common one.
In forty-eight hours, traveling only by night, he had traversed one
hundred miles with a rope round his neck, and without the prospect of
special reward. For he was but a private, and received but a private's
pay--thirteen dollars a month, a shoddy uniform, and hard-tack, when he
could get it.
Colonel Craven opened the bullet, and read the dispatch.
It was dated "Louisa, Kentucky, December 24, midnight"; and directed him
to move at once with his regiment (the Fortieth Ohio, eight hundred
strong) by way of Mount Sterling and McCormick's Gap, to Prestonburg. He
was to encumber his men with as few rations as possible, since the
safety of his command depended on his celerity. He was also requested to
notify Lieutenant-Colonel Woodford, at Stamford, and direct him to join
the march with his three hundred cavalry.
On the following morning Col. Craven's column began to move. The scout
waited till night, and then set out on his return. The reader will be
glad to learn that the brave man rejoined his regiment.