Sent to find the enemy's pickets--Suspicious
circumstance--Sick child--Captures three citizens standing
picket--Releases them--Falls asleep--Perilous
situation--Fortunate turn of affairs--Attack on the
pickets--A very pious man--He proves a rebel spy.
About a week after my attempts to get into the rebel camp near Wash.
Newbern's, General Ross sent me down to the corners, at Newbern's lane,
to ascertain whether the enemy had any pickets there. I was ordered to
take three men with me, and to be very cautious in my movements, and, if
I found any pickets near the place designated, not to fire into them,
but to come immediately back and report. The place I was to visit was
seven miles from Bolivar; we started out after 9 o'clock in the evening;
I was mounted on a mule, but the three men that accompanied me were on
foot. It was a starlight night--not so dark but that we could discern
objects at a considerable distance, and yet dark enough to facilitate
our movements.
Five miles from Bolivar, we came to a house occupied by Mr. John Ursury,
and, as we approached it, we observed in it a light. We had moved along
very slowly, and it had then got to be past 11 o'clock. Thinking it was
rather strange that a light should be burning there at that hour of the
night, I resolved to ascertain the cause of it.
Taking one man with me, and sending the other two to the rear of the
house, to capture any persons that might undertake to escape, I rode up
to the front door, with my revolver drawn, and, without dismounting,
lifted the latch and shoved the door wide open. The persons present were
Mrs. Ursury and children, one of them a small child, and a brother of
John Ursury, about fifteen years old.
"What are you doing here with a light at this time of night?" I
inquired.
"We have got a sick child," replied Mrs. Ursury, "and we are doctoring
it."
"It's best to see whether the child is sick or not," said the man that
accompanied me. He then went in and found it awake in the cradle, and,
stranger as he was, soon had the child in a frolic, laughing and
playing.
"It's a curious sickness that that child has got," said the man, coming
out.
I then called the brother out, and, pointing my revolver at him, said:
"There is something going on here besides doctoring a sick child, you
young d--l, you! and if you don't tell me in a minute what it is, I'll
blow the heart right out of you!"
"Mr. Bunker," said he, "is there any forces coming along here?"
"Yes, there is a large force coming."
"Well, my brother is standing watch up by the railroad. Hadn't I better
go up and tell him to come down?"
"No; you go into the house and stay there. I'll go after him myself."
I then called my men and went into the road, where I ordered them to
remain until I should call. I then rode forward to see what was going
on. When I came in sight of the railroad crossing, I saw five men; three
of the men were mounted and two were not; they did not seem to have any
arms. I called to my men to come on, and then dashed up to them with
revolver drawn, and demanded of them to surrender. As I was dashing up,
the two that were not mounted fled, and the other three stood their
ground.
"Don't shoot us, Mr. Bunker! Don't, for God's sake!" called out Mr.
Ursury, who at once recognized me.
"March down into the road, then, if you don't want to be shot! Fine
business, this! Good loyal men standing picket for rebel soldiers! March
down there! I'll see about this."
I then marched them over to where I had left my men, who, failing to
hear me call, had remained where I left them. One of the prisoners was
an old, gray-headed preacher, by the name of Parson Hamers; I have
forgotten the name of the other. The two that I have named I had seen
several times before.
"What were you doing there at this time of night?" I inquired.
"We were watching for some niggers to come along that ran away from my
brother-in-law," said Ursury.
"Who were those two men with you that ran away?"
"I don't know," replied Ursury.
I asked the other two, and they denied knowing who they were.
"Well, I can tell who they were," I continued. "There are rebel forces
over in Mr. Dickens' woods, and those men belong to them, and you men
were standing picket for them." This they stoutly denied, and said that
if there were any rebel forces there they did not know it.
Addressing Parson Hamers, I said; "You are an old, gray-headed man--a
preacher of the Gospel; you ought to be ashamed of yourself. An old man
like you, with one foot in the grave and the other just ready to slip
in, out at this time of night _watching for niggers_! That's a fine
excuse! It don't look reasonable. You are a d--d old rebel, with the
oath in your pocket, and you deserve to be shot!"
I did not know what to do with them; I had two miles further to go, and
it was necessary for me to take all my men with me, and to be encumbered
with prisoners, in case we should run into a force, would be hazardous.
I finally took down their names and released them, and then went on.
Finding no pickets at Newbern lane, we returned. On arriving at the
railroad crossing where I had captured the prisoners, I sent my men to
camp by way of the railroad, which was a much shorter route than the
wagon-road, and kept on myself the way I had come out.
Having slept but very little for several nights, by reason of being out
on scouts, after parting company with my men I became very sleepy, and
experienced considerable difficulty in keeping awake, and at last fell
asleep.
All at once my mule came to a sudden halt, throwing up its head as if
something was wrong. The movement woke me up, and there, stretched
across the road, was a line of soldiers bringing their pieces to a
ready. I could plainly hear the click-ick-ick as they cocked them, for
they were not more than fifteen yards from me. I can not describe the
horror and alarm that I felt at my situation; it was of no use to run,
so I resolved to put on a bold front and sell my life as dear as
possible. Surrender! no, never! thought I, if I die the next instant.
"Who comes there?" said I, drawing my revolver.
"Advance and give the countersign!" said the officer in command of the
soldiers.
"Who are you?" said I.
"No matter!" said he; "advance and give the countersign."
"I sha'n't advance a step until I know who you are!"
"Well, you advance one," said he, "and I'll advance one."
"Very well; come on!"
As we met, each with revolver cocked, the officer exclaimed, "Why,
Bunker! Is that you? I am frightened to think of it! Why didn't you
stop? In an instant more my whole company would have fired into you!"
"I was asleep, Captain! It _was_ a narrow escape, wasn't it?"
"Indeed, it was!"
It was no other than Captain Ayres and company A, of the 20th Ohio, sent
out as a support for me to fall back on if I was discovered by the enemy
and pursued. They had been sent out after I left, and I had no knowledge
that they were coming. The result of it was, I came _very near falling
back without any support_!
My suspicions of a rebel force being in Dickens' woods was confirmed in
the morning by an attack on our pickets, by a force of five hundred men,
by which two men of the 23d Indiana were wounded. After firing into the
pickets, the enemy made a detour to the north-west of Bolivar, and there
encountered a large Federal foraging party, that fired into them and
killed seven, which made them skedaddle.
The next day I was sent out with a party of nine men to procure forage.
Having found a fine lot of honey, some fresh butter, and a quantity of
chickens, we loaded them into an open buggy, confiscated a mule to draw
it, and then bent our way back to camp. We had proceeded but a little
way, when I discovered a man a short distance ahead. As soon as he saw
us, he sat down in the shade of a tree in a bend of the road, pulled out
a Testament, and commenced to read. Coming up to him, I said, "Daddy,
how do you do?"
"By the grace of God, I am well, and I hope you enjoy the same
blessing," was his answer.
"You are mighty good, a'n't you? You are a soldier, I suppose."
"No, gentlemen, I am not a soldier. By the providence of God, I am a
preacher of the Gospel pure."
"Look here, daddy; don't you know that this country is invaded? Over
there lies the Federal army, and yonder the Confederate army. What
business have you to be prowling about between the lines of the two
contending armies?"
"I have got a Federal pass," said he, handing me one signed by General
Ross, "and I have taken the oath. I have no connection with the
Confederate army."
"Well, daddy, you don't look like a man with a clear conscience; we must
search you." We proceeded to search him, which resulted in finding, in a
leg of his pantaloons, between the outside and lining, a map eighteen
inches by twenty-two, representing exactly our fortifications,
intrenchments, camp, and picket line at Bolivar. It was skillfully
executed, and was as accurate as it could well be made. Our discovery of
the map took away the old man's sanctimonious dignity. "This is one of
your sermons, I suppose!" I remarked, as I drew out the map. "A fine
subject for a minister of the Gospel!" He dropped his head and made no
reply.
"Now, daddy, you look tired; you get into the buggy and ride." So the
old man got in. "Now, boys, take the rope from the mule's neck and put
it on the old man's neck." So they changed places with the rope. By this
time the man looked terribly frightened, and as white as a ghost. "One
of you that is good at climbing mount that tree." There was a limb from
the tree where the old man had been sitting, that extended out over the
road where we had halted the buggy. To this the rope was made fast.
Every thing being ready, I said, "Daddy, you are in a hurry to get to
Canaan, and we are in a hurry to get to camp, so good day, sir." Our
mule then gave a desperate plunge, leaving him to travel his journey
alone to that place where, by the grace of God, he'll have no use for
maps of Federal fortifications.
I carried the map to General Ross, and related to him the circumstances
of its capture.
"Did you bring the man in?" he inquired.
"No, sir; we have brought in several disloyal characters, and they have
all managed to get released; for that reason we thought it not worth
while."
"You let him go, did you?"
"Yes, we let him go--_by the jerk_!"
General Ross sent the map to General Grant, then at Jackson, Tenn.,
accompanied with the particulars of its capture.