Sent to Lagrange--Observes two cavalrymen--Arrival at
Lagrange--Waits for the Cavalry--Accompanies them
out--Takes his departure--Is pursued--Evades the
pursuit--Finds himself cornered--Crosses the Cypress
Swamp--Robbed by outlaws--Disloyal citizen--The fate of the
robbers.
Not long after my return from running with the 2d Arkansas Cavalry,
General Ross requested me to make a general reconnoissance of the
country along the railroad as far as Lagrange, and to examine carefully
the trestle-work and bridges of the railroad, and to watch for any
movement that might be intended as an attack on the post or a raid upon
the railroad.
I went out, disguised as a citizen, mounted on a mule. Ten miles from
Bolivar I stopped at Mr. M----'s, where I spent an hour or more in
conversation with the members of the family. Mr. M---- was absent in the
hospital, he having been wounded in the battle of Shiloh, and had not
yet sufficiently recovered to enable him to get home.
While there I received an introduction to Miss Armstrong, a sister of
the rebel General Armstrong. I found her a very frank, open-hearted
woman, and very hopeful of the Southern cause. She did not evade the
fact of the gloom and darkness that seemed to envelop the cause, but
spoke cheerful and hopeful of the result. She inquired if I had any late
news from "_our_" forces, and I, in turn, gained as much general
information of Southern matters as I could.
When passing myself as a citizen of the South, I have always found the
people affable in their manners, sociable, and extremely liberal in
their hospitality. Whenever an occasion was offered them of rendering
any assistance which they supposed was furthering the cause they had
espoused, their kindness and generosity knew no restraint.
Two miles further on is the residence of Captain Rose, to whom I paid a
visit. Captain Rose had served in the United States army eleven years,
and is one of your genuine Union men, and has always been loyal to the
Government. I have visited him frequently since, and was always made
welcome. I did not disguise the fact of belonging to the Federal army to
him, and have several times received from him valuable information. It
was of rare occurrence that I found among the citizens of that locality
such genuine sentiments of loyalty and devotion to the Federal
Government as I found in Captain Rose.
I moved on leisurely, examining the railroad as I went, but saw nothing
worthy of attention after I left Captain Rose until two miles west of
Van Buren, where the road from Whitesville comes in. As I came near that
place, I saw two rebel cavalrymen, who had been coming up the Grand
Junction road, turn off toward Whitesville.
"Halloo, boys!" said I, hailing them, "stop a minute; I want to see
you."
"We haven't time to stop," answered one; "our company has gone on to
Whitesville, and we want to overtake it."
They dashed ahead without stopping. Their reply, however, answered my
purpose. "A company of cavalry had gone to Whitesville," and it remained
for me to find out what it had gone _for_. The two men were without
luggage, from which I concluded they would return the next day; and,
knowing that the rebel forces were principally at Lumpkins' Mills, it
seemed probable that when the company returned it would pass through
Lagrange, so I resolved to go on to Lagrange that night. It was then
nearly dark.
I arrived at Lagrange about 11 o'clock at night, and halted at the
depot. It was very dark, and every body had retired for the night, and,
not liking to blunder about the place for lodgings, lest I might
encounter some rebel cavalry, I lay down upon the depot platform, with
my bridle over my arm, ready to spring up at the slightest alarm, and
went to sleep.
In the morning I repaired to a house of entertainment, kept by a Mr.
Lee, and procured some breakfast for myself and feed for my mule. There
I waited for the return of the cavalry. About 1 o'clock, P. M., they
came in and halted to feed.
I did not think that it was prudent to mingle with the cavalry while
they remained in town, so I had my mule got ready, and remained at the
public house until the cavalry commenced to move out, when I mounted
and moved out on the same road in their rear, and, at a short distance
from town, I came up with them. I rode along in company with them, as if
I were a citizen returning to my home from town.
I asked the boys how they liked soldiering, and whether they had ever
been in any fights, and what regiment they belonged to, and various
other questions, such as I supposed a citizen would naturally ask; and,
finally, I inquired where they had been, and was told that they had been
to Whitesville, on a scout, to see whether the Yankees had been
committing any depredations on the property of the citizens. In that
manner I kept up my conversation until we were within three miles of the
Cold Water Creek, without having excited any suspicion but what I was
all right.
I had gone as far as I cared about, and began to think up some plan by
which I could make my exit from their company without exciting
suspicion. To accomplish my object, I gradually fell back to the rear,
and the first rise of ground that the cavalry went over, that was large
enough to hide me from view until I could get a good start on my way
back, I turned about and left them.
I moved along on a good fast trot, occasionally looking back to see if I
was pursued. I had made about four miles, when, on looking back, I saw a
squad of fifteen or sixteen cavalry in full chase after me. My sudden
departure had excited their suspicions. I put the spurs to my mule and
dashed ahead at the top of its speed. My pursuers gained on me. I urged
my mule still harder, and still they continued to gain. My situation
seemed a hopeless one. I could not outstrip them in the chase, and they
were rapidly gaining on me. If captured, my flight under the
circumstances would be conclusive evidence against me. Still, on I
pressed, the distance between myself and pursuers growing rapidly less.
My mule, too, was becoming exhausted, and my pursuers were within five
hundred yards of me. I had come full three miles since I saw them giving
chase. Passing a bend in the road, with a growth of small trees and
brush along the fence that hid me from view, I came to a gap in the
fence, through which I passed into a field. The field was covered with
stubble and tall weeds. I dashed ahead at right angles with the road for
about two hundred yards, when I entered a basin or depression in the
surface of the ground, that in a wet time would have been a pond, but at
that time it was dry. The ground was considerably lower than the surface
of the field between the basin and the road. There I dismounted and sat
down, and, in an instant more, I heard the tramp of horses as my
pursuers passed on.
I had despaired of making my escape, but as my pursuers passed on, hope
began to revive. It was then about sundown. I waited there until dark,
and then mounted my mule and started on. I knew that my pursuers would
soon return, and I must manage so as not to be seen. When I arrived at
the place where the road turns off to the right, that goes to Davis'
Mills, I turned to the left into the edge of a piece of woods, where I
could see without being seen, and halted.
In a few minutes I heard my pursuers approaching, who, when they came to
the corners, took the road to Davis' Mills. I remained under cover of
the woods until I thought all stragglers of the party, if there should
be any, had passed, and then went on, watching carefully as I went.
As I was riding along, the thought occurred to me that, perhaps, my
pursuers might have mistrusted that I had turned out into the field to
evade them, and had placed a picket on the bridge across Wolf River,
near Lagrange, to capture me if I attempted to cross. I rode on to
within two hundred yards of the bridge, and there I left my mule and
went forward to reconnoiter. When within a few paces of the bridge I
stopped and listened, but did not hear any thing. I moved a few feet
further, and then I thought I heard a footstep. I crept up still closer,
and peered forward in the black distance, and there I could see, on the
bridge, the form of a man. I watched and he moved. There was no mistake
about it! My fears were realized! The picket was there!
The glimmerings of hope that had lightened me up as my pursuers passed
me now vanished. I was completely cornered. The only bridge besides that
one was on the Davis Mills road, and my pursuers were on that road.
Between the two bridges was an extensive cypress swamp, and below the
bridge that I was at was another swamp still worse. The only possible
way that I could see to get away from my pursuers was to cross the
swamp between the two bridges. To think of the undertaking was horrible!
I crept cautiously back to my mule, mounted, and rode through a dense
growth of brush to my right, until I reached the edge of the swamp,
where I halted. To undertake to cross in daylight would be hazardous,
and in the dark utterly impossible; so I concluded to wait until morning
before making the attempt. I laid down upon the ground, with my bridle
over my arm, with the venomous insects and serpents as my companions,
and the intervening brush over my head and the broad canopy of heaven,
curtained with black clouds, my only covering. Such surroundings are not
very conducive to sleep, but exhausted nature soon yielded, and I slept,
and slept soundly--so soundly that when I awoke in the morning the sun
was two hours high.
The mule, to satisfy its hunger, had eaten the boughs on the bushes,
around where I lay, as far as it could reach, and yet it had neither
pulled away from me nor disturbed my slumbers, but had been as careful
of me and manifested as much attachment for me as a faithful dog would
for his master.
The mule had been presented to me by General Ross, and had been a common
sharer with me in the exposures and dangers that I had experienced, and
had borne me safely thus far, and was, perhaps, to be the only friendly
companion to witness the end that would befall me. When I thought of my
situation, and witnessed the careful attachment expressed for me by that
dumb animal, I could not control my feelings, but embraced the neck of
that mule with joyous affection and wept.
I had not tasted a mouthful of food since I had eaten my breakfast, at
the public house, the morning before, and I was not in a very fit state
of body or mind to accomplish such an undertaking as was then before me.
The tug of war had come, however, and the Rubicon had to be crossed.
Leading my mule by the bridle, I started in, sometimes at midsides in
mire and water, and then on top of a bog or root, and then--splash into
the water again! On I went, clambering, wallowing, splashing, and
plunging! As all things earthly have an end, so had that swamp; and, in
spite of venomous moccasins, tangled brush, cypress trees, mire and
water, I arrived on the bank of the river. There I mounted my mule, and
forded the river to the opposite bank.
Myself and mule were frightful looking objects, from the mire we had
wallowed through, and, before going any further, it became necessary for
me to clean off the mule to prevent suspicion. Several hours were spent
in cleaning and drying before I felt safe to venture out.
As soon as I thought prudent, I mounted my mule and rode on across the
country. I passed to the east of Lagrange, in sight of town, keeping a
sharp look-out for cavalry. When I reached the Memphis and Corinth stage
road, I took my course toward Bolivar.
When about two miles from Grand Junction, I saw approaching me from the
east, and a long way ahead, three persons on horseback. I resolved to
face the music this time, let come what would. My recent experience at
running, had satisfied me. As they came nearer, I saw that they were
dressed like citizens, which very much relieved my anxiety.
One of them was a very large man, of roughly-defined outline, with light
hair and a red face; the second was a medium-sized man, of fair
appearance, and the third was a little man, with small, round face,
black hair, and sharp, black eyes. Their clothing was made of homespun
cloth. As they met me, two came up on one side and one on the other, and
halted; so I halted.
"Good afternoon, stranger!" said the big man, as we halted.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen!" I replied.
"That's a fine mule you are riding," continued the big man.
"Yes, it is a tolerable good one."
"Well, mister, we want that mule, and we are going to have it. Get off
from that mule," said the big man. Each of them, at the same time, drew
out a derringer and pointed it at me.
"You are the strongest party," said I, "and I suppose that you must have
it."
I dismounted, and, at the same time, they dismounted, and the big man
took possession of the mule. It was like parting with a last friend to
give up my favorite, but "it had to be did."
"Have you got any money?" said the little man, coming up and thrusting
his hands into my pockets. He took out every thing that I had in them,
and then, casting his eyes toward my feet, said: "You have got a good
pair of boots there; we want them."
"Strangers," said I, "that's going a little too far. You have got my
mule and got my money, and now to take my boots and leave me to walk
twenty miles to my home barefooted is _too much_. You _can't have_ them,
_unless you take them off from my dead body; by G--d, you can't_!"
"That _is_ a little too hard," said the big man; "you may keep your
boots."
They then mounted and rode away, leading my mule with them, in the
direction from which they came, and I followed behind them, on foot. It
is not often that I pray, but then I prayed. My prayer was, "_that the
11th Illinois Cavalry would come dashing down on the road from Bolivar,
and capture the lawless villains that had robbed me of my mule and my
money_."
Hungry and fatigued, with twenty miles to travel on foot, and that, too,
upon the top of my misfortunes of the night before, made me any thing
but good-natured, and I muttered vengeance to the robbers that had taken
my favorite, if ever an opportunity occurred.
When I reached the house of old Mr. Pruett, hunger impelled me to stop.
I found the people absent, except a daughter and a young lady from a
neighboring family, that had called in. I found them obliging and
sociable, and in a few minutes their fair hands, secesh as they were,
had spread for me a bountiful repast, much to the delight of my ravenous
appetite. I told the ladies that I had been robbed of my mule and money,
and described to them the villains that had done it. The lady that had
called in said that they answered the description of three outlaws that
had robbed her uncle, a few days before, of $3,600 in gold, that he had
just received for his cotton, and then they beat him on the head with
their derringers, until they supposed he was dead, for having sold his
cotton to the Yankees. She also said that they were supposed to live
near Ripley, Miss.
Having satisfied my hunger, I resumed my walk toward Bolivar. When I
came to the railroad crossing, I followed the railroad. I was too tired
to make rapid progress, and made frequent stops to rest myself. When I
arrived at Middleburg it was between 9 and 10 o'clock at night. As I was
about passing a well near the depot platform, I saw a person drawing a
bucket of water. Being thirsty, I stopped and asked for a drink. I
recognized the man as the merchant that kept the brick store near by;
he, however, did not know me. He handed me a drink, and when I returned
him the cup, he inquired if I had any news. I told him there was no
news.
"Have you got a Southern paper?"
"No, sir."
"I would give _ten dollars_ for a Southern paper. I feel anxious to hear
from Baton Rouge."
"I have no paper and no news from Baton Rouge."
"Where are you from?"
"Holly Springs."
"You from Holly Springs, and ha'n't got any news!"
"Look 'e here, mister, you are a stranger to me; I don't know who you
are."
"Oh! I am all right!"
"Well, I don't know you. I am sent up here on special business," said I,
in a confidential way.
"_Oh! that's it, is it?_ I didn't know that!" Then, patting me on the
shoulder, he said, "Go on! that's right! I hope you will have good luck
and get through."
Before daylight next morning I was once more in camp at Bolivar.
* * * * *
The next January, as the army was on its way back from its campaign in
Mississippi, while riding on ahead of the division to which I belonged,
I came across my favorite mule. It was in company K, of the 7th Kansas
Cavalry. I went to Captain Bostwick, who was in command of the company,
and told him that he had my mule, and how I came by it and how I lost
it, and also described the men that took it away from me. The Captain
returned me the mule, and told me that, while making a raid near Tupelo,
Mississippi, during the fall, he had captured three men of the
description I had given, and with them eighteen mules, including mine,
and that the men had been sent to Alton, Illinois, as guerrillas; so I
never had an opportunity of retaliating on them for their outrage to me.
I am fully convinced that they were professional robbers, and belonged
to neither army.