GOLDEN CIRCLE.
"THINGS don't look so tumultuous-like on this train," said Mr. Klegg,
with a sigh of satisfaction, as he seated himself in the car for
Murfreesboro' and deposited his valuables by his side. "I know that boys
will be boys, and I like to see them have fun just as well as any other
man, but I must say that they made things on that other train a little
too lively for a middle-aged Deacon of the Baptist Church."
A broad-shouldered Provost-Sergeant walked through the car, with an air
of authority, and gave orders to several who were seated in it.
"Must be the Constable, or Sheriff, or Town Marshal," mused Mr. Klegg.
"I hope he'll stay on the train till we reach Murfreesboro', and keep
order."
Mr. Klegg was right. The irregularities and disorders of the "rear"
ended at Nashville. There the strict discipline of the "front" began
under the iron sway of the Provost-Marshal, whose guards were
everywhere, particularly at the depots and on the cars. The occupants of
the car were as orderly as the boys at a country school when the master
is on his throne, with his eyes about him.
It was a bright day, and the country roundabout176 of surpassing
interest to the Indiana farmer. He saw the domed, stately capitol of
Tennessee crowning the highest hill, and lording a glorious landscape of
hill and valley, through which the Cumberland River flowed in majestic
sweeps, like a broad girdle of sparkling silver. Then came the frowning
forts, with beetling banks of blood-red clay, with terror-striking black
guns, with rugged palisades, and a porcupine bristle of abatis. Sentries
with gleaming muskets paced their high parapets. Every mile, as far as
he could see, was full of objects of engrossing interest.
He became so absorbed in the feast of his eyes that he did not observe
that a middle-aged, clean shaven man in a suit of dusty black had sat
down beside him, and was studying him with attention.
"How do you do, my friend?" said he at length, putting out his hand.
Mr. Klegg turned with a start, and instinctively put out his hand.
"Howdy," he said, with a tone of little encouragement, for he would much
rather have continued watching the country than indulge in purposeless
conversation. The stranger grasped his hand warmly, and pressed his
thumb upon the first joint of Mr. Klegg's, and caught his little finger
in a peculiar way. Deacon Klegg had been initiated into the Odd Fellows,
and he dimly recognized this as a "grip," but he could not associate it
for the moment with any of the degrees of the brotherhood of the Three
blinks.
"Were you out late last night," said the stranger in a low, deeply-
impressive tone.177
"Not pertickerlerly," answered Deacon Klegg, turning to catch a view of
the stockade at La Vergne, where the 1st Mich. Eng. had made such a
gallant defense. "I'd a mighty bothersome day, and was purty well
tuckered out. I found a good place to sleep, and I turned in rather
airly. Say," continued he, pointing to the wreckage of battle, "the boys
seem to have poked it to 'em purty lively out there."
"It was a very sharp fight," returned the other; "but for once our
friend Wheeler made a mistake, and lost heavily. Down the road farther
you'll see evidences of his more successful work in some miles of burnt
wagons."
"Bad man, that Gen. Wheeler," said the Deacon, looking steadfastly out
of the window.
The stranger looked a little disappointed, but he rallied, and presently
gave the second grand hailing sign of the Knights of the Golden Circle,
in the same low, impressive tone:
"Did you see a star last night?"
"Can't say that I did," responded Mr. Klegg rather indifferently. "There
was lots of gas-lamps burning, and I was rather taken with them, so that
I didn't notice the moon or stars. Besides, as I told you before, I
turned in purty airly, for I was tired with my ride from Looyville, and
I wanted to git in good shape for the trip to-day."
A cloud of annoyance came upon the stranger's face, and he did not speak
again for a minute or two. Then he said:
"You are from Indiana, are you not?"
"Yes," said Mr. Klegg.
"From Posey County?"178
"Yes."
"I knew so. I've been looking for you for several days."
"Looking for me?" said Deacon Klegg, turning around in amazement. "How
come you to be lookin' for me? What business have you got with me? How'd
you know I was a-comin'? Nobody knowed it outside o' Mariar, my wife,
and my family."179
Deacon Klegg and the Knight of The Golden Circle.
"Come, come, now," said the other impatiently. "Don't try to play off on
me. You needn't be afraid. I'm all right. I'm Deputy Grand Organizer for
the Knights for Southern Indiana and the jurisdiction of Louisville
generally. You ought to remember me. I recollect you perfectly. I
organized the Lodges in Poseyville, and all through your County. I
planted the seed there for a big crop of Butternuts that'll help hurl
the tyrant Lincoln from his bloody throne, and give the country back
into the hands of the white man. I got word that you were coming down
with important information from your section for Gen. Bragg and John
Morgan, and I've been on the lookout for you."
An understanding of what the man was, and what he was driving at, began
to slowly filter into Deacon Klegg's mind, and his temper to rise.
"Confound you, you pizen Copperhead," he said wrathfully. "What do you
take me for? Do you take me for a miserable, traitorous Knight o' the
Golden Circle? I'm a member o' the church, or I'd punch your pizen head.
I'm a loyal man, and I've got a son fightin' for the Union."
"H-u-s-h," said the unconvinced man, laying his hand on the Deacon's
arm. "Don't talk so loud. They're watching us."
Klegg shook his hand off angrily, but the warning came too late. The
Provost-Sergeant had been watching them, at the instigation of a sharp-
eyed, clerkly-looking man in semi-uniform.
The Sergeant strode toward them, followed by a soldier with a gun.
"I arrest you both," said he. "You are men that180 we've been looking
for. You'll stay right there in your seats till we get to Murfreesboro',
and this man 'll see that you do."
The soldier took position at the end of the seat, and dropped the end of
his musket on the floor with an I've-got-my-orders-an'-I'm-going-to-
stay-right-here look on his face.
"You've been lookin' for me," gasped Deacon Klegg. "Who else's been
lookin' for me, I'd like to know? Is the whole State o' Tennessee
lookin' for me? What was you lookin' for me for? Think I've run away
from Injianny without pay in' my debts? Think I want to desert my wife
and children? Young man, you don't know Josiah Klegg. I've got a quarter
section of as good land as there is in the Wabash bottoms, and I don't
owe a dollar on it. As for leavin' Maria Klegg, I wouldn't do it for the
whole State of Injianny. What've you been lookin' for me for, I'd like
to know?"
"Old man, I haven't time to talk to you, and it ain't my business.
You'll find out soon enough, when you git to headquarters, and so will
your partner there."
"My partner," echoed Deacon Klegg. "This man's no partner o' mine. I
never laid eyes on him till a half-hour ago."
"Continue your speech at headquarters," said the Sergeant, as he moved
off. "I haven't time to listen to it now. You'd better save your breath
till then, for you'll have to do some mighty slick talkin' to save your
spying neck, I can tell you that."
Deacon Klegg sank back in the seat dumfounded. "What on airth kin he
mean?" he gasped.181
"It's another of the outrages of the despot Lincoln," answered his
companion. "It's another of the arbitrary arrests by his military
satraps. Liberty is dead in this country until we can overthrow that
nigger-loving usurper."
"Shut up," said the Deacon savagely. "If you say another word I'll mash
you. I won't be disturbed when I'm tryin' to think things out."
"I want that carpetsack and umbrella of yours," said the Sergeant,
coming back. "I've no doubt you've got 'em both full of treasonable
documents and information for your rebel friends. Guard, watch both
these men closely, and see that they don't destroy any papers, nor throw
anything out the window."
"Young man," said the Deacon resolutely, "you can't have that carpetsack
or that umbreller. They're my property. If you tech 'em I'll have the
law on you. I'll sue you for trespass, larceny, assault and battery, and
intent to provoke. I hain't done nothin' to justify it. I'm Josiah
Klegg, of Posey County, Injianny, Deacon in the Ebenezer Church, on Mill
Crick. I'm goin' down to Murfreesboro' to visit my son, Josiah Klegg,
jr., o' the 200th Injianny Volunteers. You all know him. He's an
officer; he's the boy that tried to git a commissary wagon away from the
rebels durin' the battle, and he and Shorty 've got a house with a tin
roof."
The other occupants gathered around and laughed derisively.
"Twon't do, old man," said the Sergeant, trying to wrest the carpetsack
away. "You tell a pretty story, and you're well disguised, but we're
onto you.182 We got full particulars about you from Louisville. You're a
bad lot down there in Posey County. There's a Knights of the Golden
Circle Lodge under every sycamore. You'd be at Gen. Bragg's headquarters
to-morrow night if we let you alone."
He pulled hard at the carpetsack, and Deacon Klegg resisted with all his
sturdy might. His strength was quite a match for the Sergeant's, but
other soldiers came to help the latter. The handles came off in the
struggle, and the Deacon was forced down into his seat. The other man
took advantage of the confusion to work his way through the crowd to the
door and jump off. This angered the Sergeant, and coming back to where
Mr. Klegg sat, exhausted and intensely mad, he said:
"I'll make sure that you don't get away, anyhow. I ought to've done this
at first."
So saying, he snapped a hand-cuff over Mr. Klegg's wrist and then over
the arm of the seat.
The Deacon was never so humiliated in his life. He was simply speechless
in his rage and mortification.
Among the many of Gen. Rosecrans's eccentricities and vagrant fancies
was one for prowling around through his camps at night, wearing a
private's overcoat and cap. One night he strolled into the camp of the
200th Ind. The superior architecture of Si and Shorty's cabin struck
him, and he decided to look inside. He knocked on the door.
"Come in," shouted Si.183
He entered, and found Si engaged with Tom Billings in a game of checkers
for the championship of the 200th Ind. Shorty was watching the game
intently, as Si's counselor, and Zeke Tomkins was giving like assistance
to Tom Billings. Two other crack players were acting as umpires. The
light from the fire shone brightly upon them, but left the front of the
room, where the General stood, in complete darkness. They were so
absorbed in the game that they merely looked up, saw that the newcomer
was a private soldier, and supposed that he had merely dropped in to
watch the game.
"Did you clean your feet on the bayonet outside the door?" demanded
Shorty, as he fixed his eyes again on the red and white grains of corn,
which represented the men on the board.
"No, I forgot," said the General quietly. "Well, go right outside and
clean 'em off," ordered Shorty. "Don't want no mud tracked in here for
us to carry out agin."
The General, much amused, went out, carefully scraped his boots, and
then returned.
"All right," said Shorty, looking up as he reentered. "Now look all you
like, but don't say nothin'. Nobody s allowed to say a word but the
players and the umpires."
The game proceeded in silence for several minutes, and the General
became much interested. It was one of his peculiarities that he could
not help getting interested in anything that his soldiers were doing,
from the boiling of a cup of coffee or the pitching of a tent to the
alignment of a company. Si was getting a little the better of Billings,
and184 the General's sympathies naturally went toward the loser. He
touched Billings on the shoulder, as he was about to make a move, and
said:
The General Interrupts the Game 184
"Don't do that. You'll open your king row.
"Move—"
Shorty was alert on the instant.
"Shut up," he commanded. "You've no business talkin'; I told you when
you come in you weren't allowed to say nothin'."
"Excuse me," said the General; "I quite forgot."
"Well, see that you don't forgit agin," growled Shorty. "We've got quite
enough talent in the game already. We don't want no more to come in."
Again the game proceeded in intent silence for some minutes. Then Si
called out:
"Hold on; you can't jump backwards with that man. That ain't no king."
"I say it is a king," said Billings. "I got him into the row half an
hour ago, and crowned him. You knocked the crown off when you moved."
"I know better," said Shorty. "I've been watching that piece right
along, and he's never been nearer the king-row than he is this minute."
A hot discussion ensued. The General forgot him self and joined in in
his usual positive, authoritative way.
"I say the man had been crowned. I saw him crowned and the crown
afterward knocked off. There's the crown by the side there."
Shorty's wrath rose. "I told you when you come in here," he said
sharply, "not to mix into this game. You've got no business in it. Keep
your advice till it's asked for, or git out o' the tent. If you don't
git out I'll put you out."
"Be careful, my man," said the General, speaking in his usual way. "You
are talking to an officer."
"I don't care if you are a Lieutenant or a Captain, even," Si chimed in;
"you have no business mixing in a quiet little game o' checkers
between186 enlisted men."
"I am more than a Captain," said the General, opening his overcoat
slightly, to show his double dow of buttons.
"Dern' a Major or a Colonel don't make it much better," said Si,
obdurately, but with much more respect.
"I'm higher than a Colonel," said the General, amusedly, and opening his
overcoat a little farther.
"Excuse us, General," they all murmured, rising to their feet, and
taking the position of a soldier.
"You don't command our brigade, do you?" said Shorty, trying to get a
better view of his face.
"I command this brigade, and several others," said the General,
smilingly enjoying their confusion.
"Lord, a Major-General commanding a corps," gasped Shorty, backing up
with the rest into line, and saluting with the profoundest respect.
"Still higher," laughed the General, stepping for ward to where the
light fell full on his face. "I'm Maj.-Gen. Rosecrans, commanding this
army. But don't be disturbed. You've done nothing. You are all entitled
to your opinions, as free American citizens; but I will insist that that
man had been in the king row, and should be crowned. But you settle that
among yourselves.
"I merely dropped in to compliment you on the skill you have shown in
building your house and its comfort. I'm glad to find that it looks even
better inside than out. I know that you are good soldiers from the way
you take care of yourselves. But so fine a house ought to have a better
checker-board than a barrel-head, with grains of corn for men. Who are
the owners of the house?"187
"Me and him," said Shorty, indicating himself and Si.
"Very good," said the General; "both of you report at my Headquarters
to-morrow morning at 10 o'clock. Good night."
"Three cheers and a tiger for Old Rosey," yelled Shorty as soon as he
could get his scattered wits together enough to say a word.
They gave three such rousing cheers that the rest of Co. Q came running
out of their tents, and joined in cheering, as fast as the news could be
communicated to them.
The next morning a squad of prisoners was being conducted toward Army
Headquarters. At their head walked a stout, middle-aged farmer, carrying
a portly blue umbrella. He had spent the night among the riotous spirits
in the guard-house, and had evidently undergone much wear and tear. He
looked as if things had not been going his way at all. By him marched
the stalwart Provost-Sergeant, with a heavy striped carpetsack under his
arm.
Gen. Rosecrans rode up at the head of his staff, from an early morning
inspection of some part of the camp. The men saluted and cheered.
"Whom have you here, Sergeant?" said the General, reining up his horse
beside the squad.
"That's Gen. Rosecrans," said one of the guards to Deacon Klegg.
"Nobody of importance," replied the Sergeant, "except this old man here.
He's a Knight of the188 Golden Circle, that we've been watching for for
some time, going through with information and other things from the
Knights of Indiana to the enemy in Tullahoma. I've got his carpetsack
here. I expect it's full of papers and contraband stuff. It feels as if
it had lead in it. I am taking him to the Provost-Marshal's for
examination."
He set the heavy carpetsack down on the ground, to rest for a minute.
"Gen. Rosecrans, it's all a plaguey lie," burst out Deacon Klegg. "I'm
as loyal a man as there is in the State of Injianny. I voted for Abe
Lincoln and Oliver P. Morton. I've come down here to visit my son,
Josiah Klegg, jr., of the 200th Injianny Volunteers. You know him,
General. He's one o' your officers. He's a Corporal. He's the boy that
tried to take a commissary wagon away from the rebels durin' the battle,
and he's got a house with a tin roof. You recollect that, don't you?"
Some of the staff laughed loudly, but the General checked them with a
look, and spoke encouragingly to the Deacon.
"Yes, General," continued Mr. Klegg, "I knowed you'd know all about him
the minit I mentioned him to you. I told this over and over agin to
these plaguey fools, but they wouldn't believe me. As to that carpetsack
havin' things for the enemy, it's the biggest lie that ever was told.
I'll open it right here before you to show you. I've only got some
things that my wife and the girls was sendin to Si."
He fumbled around for his keys.
"Possibly you have made a mistake, Sergeant," said the General. "What
evidence have you?"189
"We'd got word to look out for just such a man, who'd play off the dodge
of being an old plug of a farmer on a visit to his son."
Meeting Between si and his Father. 189
"He was on the train with a man whom all the detectives know as one of
the worst Knights in the gang. They were talking together all the way.
I190 arrested the other one, too, but he slipped away in the row this
man made to distract our attention."
In the meantime Deacon Klegg had gotten his carpetsack open for the
General's inspection. It was a sorry sight inside. Butter, honey,
shirts, socks, boots, and cakes are excellent things taken separately,
but make a bad mixture. Deacon Klegg looked very dejected. The rest
grinned broadly.
"I don't seem to see anything treasonable so far," said the General.
"Sergeant, take the rest of your prisoners up to the Provost-Marshal,
and leave this man with me."
"Gen. Rosecrans," said a familiar voice, "you ordered us to report to
you this mornin' at 10 o'clock. We're here."
The General looked up and saw Corporal Si Klegg and Shorty standing at a
"salute."
"Si!" said the Deacon, joyously, sticking out a hand badly smeared with
honey and butter.
"Pap!" shouted the Corporal, taking the hand in rapture. "How in the
world did you git down here?"
They all laughed now, and the General did not check them.
"Corporal," said he, "I turn this man over to you. I'll hold you
responsible that he don't communicate with the enemy. But come on up to
Headquarters and get your checker-board. I have a very nice one for
you."
192