The forage party--Runaways--Daring scout--Narrow escape--The
line of battle--Safe return--Scout reports--Assumes the
character of a rebel prisoner--Finds a friend--How he
introduced himself--Where he belongs--The burning of Holly
Springs--The heroine--What she captured--Shows
partiality--Offers assistance--Rebel doctor executed.
When the army fell back behind the Tallahatchie River, General Leggett's
brigade remained at Abbeville, as advanced outpost of the army. It was
while we were there on outpost duty, that the troops experienced the
inconvenience of short rations, caused by General Van Dorn's cavalry
raid into Holly Springs. While the scarcity of rations prevailed, the
troops were under the necessity of frequently sending out foraging
expeditions to obtain assistance for both men and animals.
On one occasion, an expedition was sent out to the east of Abbeville
after forage. After it had been gone a short time, I took a notion that
I would go; so I mounted my mule and started out. Soon after passing the
pickets, I overtook two men, who, I found, had run away from camp, and,
by representing to the pickets that they belonged to the detail guarding
the train, had succeeded in passing. They were going out on their "own
hooks" to forage a fat sheep.
About a mile from the pickets, the road forked; the left-hand road, or
main road, led straight ahead to the east, and the right-hand road led
to the south-east. The forage party had taken the left-hand road; the
runaways took the right-hand road, and I followed them out a piece to
see what I could find. About a mile from the forks, both roads pass
through a belt of timber-land, several hundred yards in width, and then
emerge into an open space of country, inclosed in fields. After passing
through the timber, we halted and mounted the fence to look for the
forage party on the other road. They had halted at a plantation-house,
and were engaged in loading the train. While on the fence, the two
runaways espied some fat sheep in the field near by us. They immediately
gave chase, and I remained on the fence to watch the forage party. We
had been discovered by the forage party while on the fence, and directly
a man was seen dashing across the fields toward us, on horseback, to
reconnoiter. In the brigade was a chaplain, not very brave, who
sometimes undertook to perform the duties of a scout. As the man on
horseback approached, it proved to be the chaplain scout. The field, on
the side where we were, was covered with tall weeds, as high as a man's
head, and for that reason the runaways did not see the chaplain until he
was within fifty yards of them. The boys had not yet captured a sheep,
but were trying to corner one, when they discovered him.
"There comes our chaplain, as sure as h--ll!" said one. "We must
frighten him back, or we'll both be arrested for running away."
"I'll stop him," said the other, aiming his piece.
"Snap!" went the cap, but the gun did not go.
"Are you going to _shoot_ him?" said the first.
"Yes, by G--d!" said the other.
"Then I'll shoot," said the first. Bang! went his gun.
That was too much for the chaplain; he wheeled his horse about, and went
_flying back_. The chaplain did not see the boys, but saw me on the
fence, dressed in rebel uniform, and my mule hitched to the fence. As
soon as he got back and reported, the men not engaged in loading the
train were formed in line of battle, ready to repel an expected attack.
The runaways succeeded in capturing a fine, nice sheep, and carried it
on their shoulders back to the forks in the road, to wait for the train.
There I left them, and joined the forage party, which I found drawn up
in line of battle.
When the train was loaded and ready to return, flankers were thrown out
on each side of the road, and in that way, succeeded in reaching camp
without the loss of a man. The runaways got into camp with their forage
without being detected.
I felt curious to know what sort of report the chaplain would make; so,
on my return to camp, I immediately repaired to head-quarters and
awaited his arrival. When he made his appearance, it was with a
countenance indicating that something _serious_ and _impressive_ weighed
upon his mind.
"Has the forage party come in, chaplain?" said General Leggett, as he
entered.
"Yes, we _made out_ to get back."
"Well, what luck did you have?"
"We had a very _narrow escape_, indeed."
"Why so?"
"Well, I'll tell you; we halted about four miles out, to load the train,
and, while thus engaged, some rebels were seen about a mile distant,
across the field, on the fence, watching our movements. I was sent to
reconnoiter and find out about them, and when I had got within a short
distance of them, I saw a long line of them dismounted, behind the
fence. Several of them snapped their pieces at me, and one went off, and
the ball came whizzing by my head. I wheeled my horse and ran back as
fast as I could go. I tell you, General, it was a _providential escape
for me_! We then formed a line of battle, to repel any attack until the
train was ready to start; then we threw out flankers on each side of the
road, and in that way we marched in, without being attacked."
The joke was a serious one, but, inasmuch as nobody was hurt, I
concluded not to expose the roguery of the runaways, or the bravery of
the chaplain.
* * * * *
While the army was on its march from the Tallahatchie to Lagrange, I had
an amusing little adventure with a secesh lady. It was on the day that
General Leggett's brigade left Holly Springs. I was riding along behind
my regiment, in company with Levi Hood, of the 20th Ohio, when I
observed, to the left of the road, and about half a mile back, a large,
fine white house. I told Levi that, from the fine appearance of things
about the house, I presumed we could get feed there for our mules; so we
rode out to see.
The house was built with a porch extending across its entire front. As
we approached, we saw a Federal guard standing on the porch, near the
main entrance to the house, and two Federal officers, one of them a
Captain and the other a Major. The officers were engaged in conversation
with a lady belonging to the house. We halted in front of the steps
leading on to the porch, when Levi, addressing the lady, said: "Madam,
have you got any corn or fodder here?"
"Yes, I expect there _is some_ out there," she replied, pointing to an
outhouse; "go out and get it. Take it _all_, if you can; don't leave
any. I shall be glad when it is _gone_; then you won't _bother_ me."
We rode to the outhouse and procured what fodder we wanted, and, having
fed our mules in a yard in front of the house, we repaired to the porch,
where the officers and lady were still engaged in conversation. They
were talking about the burning of Holly Springs, and as I came near, I
heard the lady say:
"If General Van Dorn and General Price can't _thrash_ you out of
Mississippi, they can _starve_ you out, or get you out in some way; _you
are going out, anyhow_."
"Yes," said I, "that's one of General Van Dorn's capers; he is just the
man to do such tricks as that."
The officers left as soon as I came up, and the lady turned her
conversation to me:
"Do you know General Van Dorn?"
"Yes, I know _all of our_ Generals; and I know you, too."
"Where did you ever see me?"
"A'n't you the lady that sent Colonel Slemmens the boquet last summer,
when he was on outpost duty, with his regiment, at Cold Water?"
"Why, yes, I believe I was; where was you?"
"I was sent from Lumpkins' Mills, by General Villipique to Colonel
Slemmens, with orders."
"Where do you belong?"
"I belong to the 17th Mississippi Zouaves, the pride of the
Confederacy."
"Who is the Colonel?"
"Colonel Hanner."
"Yes, yes! that's a fact! I thought that you was fooling me, at first,
but I don't think you are now. How in the world did you come to be up
here?"
"I was captured near Grenada."
"You was? That's too bad! Oh, tell me, have you received your new guns
yet?"
"Yes; we received them on the 18th day of last August."
"They were so long coming, that I was afraid they never would get
through the Federal lines. How do you like them?"
"Very much, indeed. They are Colt's six-shooters, and are a most
excellent gun."
"Well, I am glad of it; they ought to be a _good_ gun, for they cost
the Confederacy sixty dollars apiece. You are really a prisoner, then,
are you?"
"Yes."
"Well, come into the house."
"I would if I could; but that man is my guard, and I don't think he'll
let me."
"Oh, no!" said Levi, "I can't; I am instructed not to let him go into
any houses nor out of my sight."
"Well, you can see him at the end of the porch; let him go there. He
won't run away. Come this way, soldier." She led the way and I followed.
"Now," said she, speaking low, "_do tell_ me how the Yankees like the
burning of Holly Springs."
"Well, as near as I can find out, they hate it like blazes, and it makes
some of them real heartsick."
"Good! I am glad of it! I am getting back pay for my trouble now!"
"Did you help take the place?"
"No, I did not help to take it, but I was chief of the signal corps, and
signaled the town all night. I had nearly all the ladies of the town
out, and had them watching the movements of the Yankees. We sent up
rockets, every hour, all night. I tell you, I felt _so much_ relieved at
the approach of General Van Dorn, and when he captured the Yankees I was
_perfectly delighted_! Then I just _went_ for things! I had four mules
and a yoke of steers and a cart in there, and I just _loaded them down_
with stuff! I got a hundred overcoats, and lots of pants and blankets,
and nice canvased hams, and other things, until I had the garret of my
house _stowed full_."
"Did you do _all that alone_?"
"Oh, no! my husband, Captain McKisic, was there--he is captain of
company A, of Bragg's 1st Battalion--and my servants were there, and
they all helped. Oh, I really do wish that you could come into the
house!"
"There is no use talking about that, for the guard _won't let me_."
"Well, I'll tell you," said she (casting her eyes at the man who was
guarding her house, and speaking still lower); "I was suspicious that
some of the Yankee soldiers might ransack my house and find out what
stuff I had got, and so I went over to the Colonel of the --th Illinois
Regiment and sung him a few songs of love, and he sent me over a guard,
to keep the soldiers from going into my house."
"You are all right, then, if you keep things to yourself."
"I can do that, I assure you; I have run with the army almost two years,
and I have learned how to do that."
"_Come_, prisoner," said Levi, manifesting impatience; "a'n't you
getting about through with your conversation?"
"Wait! wait a minute, if you please, guard," said the lady, and away she
went into the house. She soon returned with a lot of apples, and
commenced to stuff them into my pockets. "There, you eat them yourself.
Give the guard these _three little ones_; don't give him any more; eat
those nice ones yourself. But, pray tell me, what is your situation for
money?"
"I have got about five dollars."
"Is that all? Really, that a'n't enough! Sha'n't I help you to some? I
am sure that you can't get along with that?"
"No, I thank you; I can get along in some way."
"_Do_ let me help you; I have got three thousand dollars in the house,
and I'd just as leave help you as not. _Do_ take some."
"No; I won't take any. I might never return this way to repay it."
"I should think that you might get away. Why don't you get paroled, or
run away from that guard?"
"I might, but, on account of a plan that I have got, I don't want to get
away yet."
"Why, what is it?"
"Well, I'll tell you. I want to go with Grant's army to Lagrange, and
see which way it goes from there, and then I'll come back and report
it."
"That's a good idea, certainly; get all the information that you can."
"_Prisoner!_" called Levi, getting more impatient; "the mules are done
eating and we must _go_!"
I then bade Mrs. McKisic good-by, and we resumed our march. On my return
to the regiment, I related the incident to the Colonel, and he replied:
"If the _women_ are a mind to take advantage of the _disgraceful
surrender_ of Holly Springs, I don't know as I have any objection."
During the march of the army north-west, from its campaigns against
General Price, and when we were near the Tennessee line, thinking that
an opportunity might occur of retaliating upon a certain doctor living
in the State of Tennessee, who had been instrumental in causing the
arrest and imprisonment of myself and ten others, by false accusations,
I called upon General Grant and told him what we had suffered by the
doctor, and asked him if I might take the same men and go through the
lines some night and kill him.
The General said, "I can not give you leave to take a man's life, except
under such circumstances as are warranted by the rules of war; if you
wish to capture him, I'll give you the countersign."
The next evening a party of eleven men, without the countersign, went
through the lines, unobserved, and repaired to the house of the said
doctor. Stopping at a neighboring house, about a mile from the doctor's,
was a Miss Armstrong, a sister of the Confederate General Armstrong. I
had paid some attention to her the summer before. When we came near
where she lived, I said to the men, "I have an old acquaintance living
about a mile from here that I want to see. You go on and capture the
doctor, and wait there until I come." I found the lady at home, and
passed the evening with her very pleasantly. Before I was aware of it,
two hours had passed. Recollecting my promise to meet the men at the
doctor's, I bade the lady adieu and hastened on, fearing, perhaps, my
long absence had caused them to return to camp without me. When I
arrived, I found the men impatiently waiting for me. Seeing only my own
number of men, I inquired: "Was the doctor at home?"
"Yes."
"Where is he?"
"This way, Bunker." (I followed to the far end of the yard.) "There he
is."
The reader can judge of my horror and surprise at the sight before me.
There lay the trunk of the man in one place and the head in another,
looking as if pulled asunder by fastening the neck to a tree and the
feet to a span of mules. The mules were still fastened to the feet of
the lifeless form.
As much used to scenes of bloodshed and slaughter as I have been, and as
much as I felt myself wronged by the ill-treatment of the doctor, the
sight was revolting indeed. While I have no doubt but that the doctor
would have rejoiced to have caused the death of myself and ten others, I
am clear from ever having desired his death by acts of barbarism and
cruelty. I regret very much that Federal soldiers have ever felt
constrained to resort to such acts of retaliation.
It is a fact, however, in the prosecution of this war, that oftentimes
the worst of traitors, after having been captured, have escaped the
penalty of the law, and then, in their last state, have acted sevenfold
worse than in the first. It is in consequence of such evasions of
justice, that individuals have felt compelled to deal out punishment
themselves. In the face of the cruelties that our men have suffered at
the hands of the rebels, contrary to all the rules of war, it is a
wonder to me that they have committed so few acts of retaliation.
When arrested, the doctor declared, with most emphatic assertions, that
he was a loyal man, though the men that confronted him knew, by sad
experience, that such assertions were false. Such provocation, coupled
with the fear that he would escape punishment, caused this summary
execution. I only regret that a more civilized mode was not resorted to.
The next day the troops moved on toward Memphis, and no complaint was
ever made about it at head-quarters.