Produced by David Widger





UNCLE DANIEL'S STORY

OF “TOM” ANDERSON

And

Twenty Great Battles.

By John McElroy


1886.


     “UNCLE DANIEL” IS PRESENTED TO THE PUBLIC. A TRUTHFUL
     PICTURE, IN STORY, BASED UPON EVENTS OF THE LATE WAR. THIS
     VOLUME IS DEDICATED TO THE UNION  SOLDIERS AND  THEIR
     CHILDREN.

     The Author

New York, Jan. 1st, 1886.





UNCLE DANIEL'S STORY.




CHAPTER I.

     DARK DAYS OF 1861.--A FATHER WHO GAVE HIS CHILDREN TO THE
     COUNTRY.--RALLYING TO THE FLAG.--RAISING VOLUNTEERS IN
     SOUTHERN INDIANA.

     “The more solitary, the more friendless, the more
     unsustained I am, the  more I will respect and rely upon
     myself.”--Charlotte Bronte


ALLENTOWN is a beautiful little city of 10,000 inhabitants, situated on
the Wabash River, in Vigo County, Ind., in the vicinity of which several
railroads now center. It is noted for its elevated position, general
healthfulness, and for its beautiful residences and cultivated society.
Daniel Lyon located here in 1850. He was a man of marked ability
and undoubted integrity; was six feet two inches in height, well
proportioned, and of very commanding and martial appearance. In 1861,
he was surrounded by a large family, seven grown sons--James, David,
Jackson, Peter, Stephen, Henry and Harvey--all of whom were well
educated, fond of field sports and inclined to a military life. The
mother, “Aunt Sarah,” as she was commonly called by the neighbors, was
a charming, motherly, Christian woman, whose heart and soul seemed to be
wrapped up in the welfare of her family. She was of short, thick build,
but rather handsome, with dark brown hair and large blue eyes, gentle
and kind. Her politeness and generosity were proverbial. She thought
each of her seven sons a model man; her loving remarks about them were
noticeable by all.

Daniel Lyon is at present 85 years old, and lives with one of his
granddaughters--Jennie Lyon--now married to a man by the name of James
Wilson, in Oakland, Ind., a small town conspicuous only for its rare
educational facilities.

[Illustration: Uncle Daniel telling his Story 017]


On the evening of the 22d of February, 1884, a number of the neighbors,
among whom was Col. Daniel Bush, a gallant and fearless officer of
the Union side during the late war, and Dr. Adams, President of ------
College, dropped in to see Uncle Daniel, as he is now familiarly called.
During the evening, Col. Bush, turning to the old veteran, said:

“'Uncle Daniel,' give us a story from some of your experiences during
the war.”

The old man arose from his easy-chair and stood erect, his hair, as
white as snow, falling in profusion over his shoulders. His eyes, though
dimmed by age, blazed forth in youthful brightness; his frame shook with
excitement, his lips quivered, and tears rolled down the furrows of his
sunken cheeks. All were silent. He waved his hand to the friends to be
seated; then, drawing his big chair to the centre of the group, he sat
down. After a few moments' pause he spoke, in a voice tremulous with
emotion:

“My experience was vast. I was through the whole of the war. I saw much.
My story is a true one, but very sad. As you see, my home is a desolate
waste. My family consists now of only two grand-children; wife and sons
are all gone. I am all that is now left of my once happy family. My God!
My God! Why should I have been required to bear this great burden? But
pardon this weakness in an old man. I will now begin my story.

“In the month of ------, 1861, my nephew, 'Tom' Anderson,--I called the
boy Tom, as I learned to do so many years before, while visiting at his
father's; he was the son of my eldest sister,--his wife, Mary, and their
only child, a beautiful little girl of two years (called Mary, for her
mother), were visiting at my house. Their home was in Jackson, Miss. One
evening my good wife, Tom, his wife, my son Peter, and I were sitting on
our front porch discussing the situation, when we heard a great noise a
couple of blocks south of us. The young men stepped out to see what the
trouble was and in a very short time they returned greatly excited. A
company of men were marching down the street bearing the American flag,
when a number of rebel sympathizers had assaulted them with stones,
clubs, etc., and had taken their flag and torn it to shreds. It seemed
that a Mr. 'Dan' Bowen, a prominent man in that part of the State, had
been haranguing the people on the question of the war, and had denounced
it as 'an infamous Abolition crusade,' and the President as a
villainous tyrant,' and those who were standing by the Union as
'Lincoln's hirelings, and dogs with collars around their necks.' This
language stirred up the blood of the worst element of the people,
who sympathised with secession, and had it not been for the timely
interposition of many good and worthy citizens, blood would have been
shed upon the streets.”

Here Col. Bush asked:

“What became of this man Bowen?”

“I understand that he now occupies one of the highest positions the
people of Indiana can give to one of her citizens. You see, my friends,
that we American people are going so fast that we pass by everything and
forget almost in a day the wrongs to our citizens and our country.”

“But to return to what I was saying in connection with the young men.
Tom Anderson was in a state of great excitement. He said he had almost
been mobbed before leaving home for entertaining Union sentiments, and
feared that he could not safely return with his family. My son Peter
suggested that, perhaps, they (being young) owed a duty to their country
and could not perform it in a more satisfactory manner than to enter the
service and do battle for the old flag. To this suggestion no reply was
made at the time. I said to them:

“'This seems to me a very strange condition of things, to see a
Government like this threatened in its permanency by the very people
that have controlled and profited most by it.' Tom replied:

“'Uncle, I have given a great deal of thought to this subject. You know
I was born in Ohio. My father was an Episcopal minister, and settled in
Mississippi while I was but a boy. My father and mother are both buried
there, leaving me an only child. I grew up and there married my good
wife, Mary Whitthorne. We have lived happily together. I have had a good
practice at the law; have tried to reconcile myself to their theories of
human rights and 'rope-of-sand' government, but cannot. They are very
_different_ from our Northern people--have _different_ theories of
government and morals, with _different_ habits of thought and action.
The Pilgrim Fathers of the North who landed at Plymouth Rock were men of
independence of thought; believed in Christianity, in education and
universal liberty. They and their progeny have moved almost on a line
due west, to the Pacific Ocean, infusing their energy, their ideas of
government, of civil liberty, of an advanced Christian civilization,
with a belief in man's equality before the law. These ideas and thoughts
have become imbedded in the minds of the Northern people so firmly that
they will fight to maintain them; will make them temporarily a success,
and would make them permanent but for their habit of moving so rapidly
in the direction of business and the accumulation of wealth, which
prepares the mind to surrender everything to the accomplishment of this
single object. The Southern inhabitants are almost entirely descended
from impetuous, hot-blooded people. Their ancestors that landed at
Jamestown, and later along the Southern Atlantic coast within our
borders, were of an adventurous and warlike people. Their descendants
have driven westward almost on a parallel line with the Northern people
to the borders of Mexico, occasionally lapping over the Northern line.
Their thoughts, ideas, manners and customs have been impressed upon the
people wherever they have gone, by the pretense, always foremost and
uppermost, as if a verity, that they were the most hospitable and
chivalric of any people in America. Their civilization was different.
Their arguments were enforced by the pistol and bowie-knife upon their
equals, and slaves subjected to their will by the lash and
bloodhound--the death of a man, white or black, being considered no more
than merely a reduction of one in the enumeration of population. They
have opposed common schools for fear the poorer classes of whites might
have an opportunity of contesting at some time the honors of office,
that being the great ambition of Southern society. They would not allow
the slave to be educated for fear he might learn that he was a man,
having rights above the brute with which he has always been held on a
par. The aristocracy only were educated. And this was generally done in
the North, where the facilities were good; and by sending them from home
it kept down the envy and ambition of the poorer classes, where, if they
could have seen the opportunity of acquiring knowledge it might have
stimulated them to greater exertion for the purpose of storing their
minds with something useful in extricating themselves from an obedience
to the mere will of the dominating class. Those people, one and all, no
matter how ignorant, are taught to consider themselves better than any
other people save the English, whose sentiments they inculcate. They are
not in sympathy with a purely Republican system of Government. They
believe in a controlling class, and they propose to be that class. I
have heard them utter these sentiments so often that I am sure that I am
correct. They all trace their ancestry back to some nobleman in some
mysterious way, and think their blood better than that which courses in
the veins of any Northern man, and honestly believe that one of them in
war will be the equal of five men of the North. They think because
Northern men will not fight duels, they must necessarily be cowards. In
the first contest my judgment is that they will be successful. They are
trained with the rifle and shotgun; have taken more pains in military
drill than the people of the North, and will be in condition for war
earlier than the Union forces. They are also in better condition in the
way of arms than the Government forces will be. The fact that they had
control of the Government and have had all the best arms turned over to
them by a traitorous Secretary of War, places them on a war footing at
once, while the Government must rely upon purchasing arms from foreign
countries, and possibly of a very inferior character. Until foundries
and machinery for manufacturing arms can be constructed, the Government
will be in poor condition to equip troops for good and effective
service. This war now commenced will go on; the North will succeed;
slavery will go down forever; the Union will be preserved, and for a
time the Union sentiment will control the Government; but when reverses
come in business matters to the North, the business men there, in order
to get the trade of the South, under the delusion that they can gain
pecuniarily by the change, will, through some 'siren song,' turn the
Government over again to the same blustering and domineering people who
have ever controlled it. This, uncle, is the fear that disturbs me most
at present.'”

“How prophetic,” spoke up Dr. Adams.

“Yes, yes,” exclaimed all present.

Col. Bush at this point arose and walked across the floor. All eyes
were upon him. Great tears rolled down his bronzed cheeks. In suppressed
tones he said:

“For what cause did I lose my right arm?”

He again sat down, and for the rest of the evening seemed to be in deep
meditation.

Uncle Daniel, resuming his story, said:

“Just as Tom had finished what he was saying, I heard the garden gate
open and shut, and David and Harvey appeared in the moonlight in front
of the porch. These were my second and youngest sons. David lived some
five miles from Allentown, on a farm, and Harvey had been staying at his
house, helping do the farm work. They were both very much excited. Their
mother, who had left. Mary Anderson in the parlor, came out to enjoy the
fresh air with us, and observing the excited condition of her two sons,
exclaimed:

“'Why, my dear boys! what is the matter?'

“David spoke to his mother, saying:

“'Do not get excited or alarmed when I tell you that Harvey and I have
made a solemn vow this evening that we will start to Washington city in
the morning.'

“'For what, my dear sons, are you going?' inquired the mother, much
troubled.

“'We are going to tender our services to the President in behalf of the
Union. Harvey is going along with me, believing it his duty. As I was
educated by the Government for the military service, I deem it my duty
to it, when in danger from this infamous and unholy rebellion, to aid in
putting it down.'

“Their mother raised her hands and thanked God that she had not taught
them lessons of patriotism in vain. She laid her head upon David's manly
breast and wept, and then clasped Harvey in her arms and blessed him as
her young and tender child, and asked God to preserve him and return him
safely to her, as he was her cherished hope. Peter, who had been silent
during the entire evening, except the bare suggestion to Tom to enter
the service, now arose from where he was sitting, and extending his hand
to David, said:

“'My old boy, I am with you. I shall commence at once to raise a
company.'

“David turned to his mother and laughingly said:

“'Mother, you seem to have taught us all the same lesson.'

“His mother's eyes filled with tears as she turned away to seek Mary.
She found her in the parlor teaching her sweet little daughter her
prayers. My wife stood looking at the pretty picture of mother and child
until little Mary Anderson finished, kissed her mamma, and ran off to
bed; then entering the room she said:

“'Mary, my child, I am too weak to speak. I have held up as long as I
can stand it,' and then burst into tears. Mary sprang to her at once,
clasping her in her arms.

“'Dearest auntie, what is the matter? Are you ill?

“'No! no! my child; I am full of fear and grief; I tremble. My sons are
going to volunteer. I am grieved for fear they will never return. Oh!
Mary! I had such a terrible dream about all the family last night. Oh!
I cannot think of it; and yet I want them to go. God knows I love my
country, and would give all--life and everything--to save it. No, I
will not discourage them. I will tell you my dream when I have more
strength.'

“Just then my blessed old wife fainted. Mary screamed, and we all rushed
into the parlor and found her lying on the floor with Mary bending over,
trying to restore her. We were all startled, and quickly lifted her
up, when she seemed to revive, and was able to sit in a chair. In a few
moments she was better, and said:

“'I am all right now; don't worry. I was so startled and overcome at the
thought that so many of my dear children were going to leave me at once
and on such a perilous enterprise.'

“To this Peter answered:

“'Mother, you ought not to grieve about me. Being an old bachelor, there
will be but few to mourn if I should be killed.'

“'Yes; but, my son, your mother loves you all the same.'

“Just then a rap was heard at the window. It being open, a letter was
thrown in upon the floor. I picked it up. It was addressed to 'Thos.
Anderson.' I handed it to him. He opened it, and read it to himself, and
instantly turned very pale and walked the floor. His wife took his arm
and spoke most tenderly, asking what it was that troubled him.

“'Mary, dear, I will read it,' he said, and unfolding the letter, he
read aloud:

     “'Jackson, Miss., June -- 1861.

     “'Dear Tom--You have been denounced to-day in resolutions as
     a traitor to the Southern cause, and your property
     confiscated. Serves you right. I am off to-morrow morning
     for the Confederate Army.
     Good-by.
     Love to sister.

     “'Your enemy in war,

     “'JOS. WHITTHORNE.

“'Mary sank into a chair. For a moment all were silent. At last Tom
exclaimed:

“'What is there now left for me?”

“His wife, with the stateliness of a queen, as she was, her black hair
clustering about her temples and falling around her shoulders and neck,
her bosom heaving, her eyes flashing fire, on her tip-toes arose to her
utmost height. All gazed upon her with admiration, her husband looking
at her with a wildness almost of frenzy. She clenched both hands and
held them straight down by her side, and exclaimed in a tone that would
have made a lion cower:

“'Would that I were a man! I would not stop until the last traitor
begged for quarter!'

“Tom flew to her and embraced her, exclaiming:

“'I was only waiting for that word.'

“She murmured:

“'My heavens, can it be that there are any of my blood traitors to this
country?'

“The household were by this time much affected. A long silence ensued,
which was broken by David, saying:

“'Father, Harvey and I having agreed to go to Washington to enter the
army, I wish to make some arrangements for my family. You know I have
plenty for Jennie and the babies, and I want to leave all in your hands
to do with as if it were your own, so that the family will have such
comforts as they desire.'

“David's wife, Jennie, was a delightful little woman, with two beautiful
children--Jennie, named for her mother, and Sarah, for my wife. I said
to David that I would write to his brother James, who was a widower,
having no children, to come and stay with Jennie. I at once wrote James,
who was practicing medicine at Winchester, Va., that I feared it would
be 'unhealthy' for him there, so to come to me at once. This being
done and all necessary arrangements made, David and Harvey bade all an
affectionate farewell and started for their farm, leaving their mother
and Mary in tears. As their footsteps died away their mother went to the
door, exclaiming, “'Oh, my children! will I ever see you again?' “That
night we all joined in a general conversation on the subject of the war.
It was arranged that Peter should start next morning for Indianapolis to
see the Governor, and, if possible, obtain authority to raise a regiment
under the call of the President. This having been decided upon we all
retired, bidding each other good night. I presume there was little
sleeping in our house that night save what little Mary did, the poor
child being entirely unconscious of the excitement and distress in the
family. The next morning Peter took the train for Indianapolis, Tom went
down town to ascertain the latest news, and I took my horse and rode
out to David's farm, leaving the two women in tears, and little Mary
inquiring: “'What is the matter, mamma and aunty?' “I rode on in a deep
study as to the outcome of all this trouble. I came to David's house,
unconscious for a moment as to where I was, aroused, however, by hearing
some one crying as if in despair. I looked around and saw it was Jennie.
She stood on the door-step in great grief, the two children asking
where their father had gone. “'Good morning, my daughter,' I said, and,
dismounting, I took her in my arms, and laying her head on my shoulder
she sobbed as if her heart would break.

“'O! my dear husband, shall I ever see him again? O! my children, what
shall I do?' was all she could say.

“I broke down completely, this was too much; the cries of the little
children for their papa and the tears of their mother were more than I
could stand. He had never left them before to be gone any great length
of time. I took Jennie and the children into the house. There was a
loneliness and a sadness about the situation that was unendurable, and
I at once ordered one of the farm hands to hitch the horses to the wagon
and put the family and their little traps in and get ready to take them
to my house, and turned David's house over to his head man, Joseph Dent
(he being very trusty) to take charge of until David should return. With
these arrangements I left with the family for Allentown. On our arrival
the meeting of the three women would have melted the heart of a stone.
I walked out to the barn and remained there for quite awhile, thinking
matters over to myself. When I returned to the house all had become
quiet and seemingly reconciled. For several days all was suspense;
nothing had been heard from any of our boys; I tried to keep away from
the house as much as possible to avoid answering questions asked by the
women and the poor little children, which I knew no more about than they
did. But while we were at breakfast on the morning of ------, Jennie
was speaking of going out to her house that day to look after matters at
home and see that all was going well. Just at this moment a boy entered
with a letter, saying:

“'Mr. Burton sent me with this, thinking there might be something that
you would like to see.'

“Mr. B. was the Postmaster, and very kind to us. He was a true Union
man, but the opposition there was so strong that he was very quiet; he
kept the American flag flying over his office, which was burned on that
account a few nights later, as was supposed, by Southern sympathizing
incendiaries. These were perilous times in Southern Indiana.”

“Yes! Yes!” said Col. Bush. “We had a taste of it in Southern Ohio, where
I then resided; I know all about it. The men who were for mobbing us
at that time are now the most prominent 'reformers,' and seem to be the
most influential persons.

Uncle Daniel continued:

“I opened the letter and read it aloud. It ran substantially as follows:

     “'We arrived at Columbus, O., on the morning of ------, when
     there was some delay. While walking about the depot I
     chanced to meet your old friend the Governor. He was very
     glad to see me, and said to me, “Lyon, you are the very man
     I am looking for.” I asked, “Why, Governor? I am on my way
     to Washington to tender my services to the President in
     behalf of the Union.” The Governor answered, “You are
     hunting service, I see. Well, sir, I have a splendid
     regiment enlisted, but want to have a man of some experience
     for their Colonel, and as you have been in the Regular Army
     and maintained a good reputation, I will give you the
     position if you will take it. I grasped him by the hand and
     thanked him with all my heart. This was more than I could
     have expected. So, you see, I start off well. We are now in
     camp. I am duly installed as Colonel. Harvey has been
     mustered in and I have him detailed at my headquarters. He
     seems to take to soldiering very readily. I have written
     Jennie all about matters. I hope she and my darling children
     are well and as happy as can be under the circumstances.

     “'Your affectionate son,

     “'David Lyon.'

“He did not know that I had them at my house, and all were assisting one
another to keep up courage. This letter affected the whole family, and
caused many tears to fall, in joy as well as grief; joy that he had
succeeded so well at the beginning, and grief at his absence. That
evening Jennie received her letter from the 'Colonel' as we now called
him, all becoming very military in our language. Her letter was of the
same import, but much of it devoted to family affairs. This made Jennie
happy. We all retired and rested well that night, after pleasing the
children by telling them about their father being a great soldier, and
that they must be good children, and in that way cause their mother to
write pleasant things about them to their good papa.”





CHAPTER II.

     BATTLE OF THE “GAPS.”--YOUNG HARVEY LYON BRUTALLY MURDERED.--
     UNCLE DANIEL'S RETURN.--RAISING  TROOPS IN SOUTHERN
     INDIANA.

     “When sorrows come they come not single spies, but in
     battalion.” ---Shakespeare.

“Three days later Peter returned from Indianapolis, with full authority
for Tom Anderson to recruit a regiment for the Union service. This was
very gratifying to him, and he said to his wife, 'Mary, my time will
come.' She appeared happy over the news, but her quivering lip, as she
responded, gave evidence of her fears that the trial to her was going
to be severe. My good wife then called us into tea, and when we were all
seated, Mary said to her:

“'Aunt Sarah, you have not yet told us your dream. Don't you remember,
you promised to tell it to me? Now let us hear it, please.”

“'Yes, my child. It has troubled me very much; and yet I don't believe
there is any cause for alarm at what one may dream.'

“'Mother, let us hear it,' spoke up Peter; 'it might be something that
I could interpret. You know I try to do this sometimes; but I am not as
great a success as Daniel of old.'

“'Well, my son, it was this: I thought your father and I were in the
garden. He was pulling some weeds from the flower-bed, when he was
painfully stung on both hands by some insect. Soon his fingers began
dropping off--all five from his right hand and his thumb and little
finger from his left.'

“Tom laughingly said, 'Uncle, hold up your hands;' which I did, saying,
'You see my fingers are not gone.' Whereupon they all laughed except
Peter.

“My wife said to him:

“'My son, what is your interpretation of my dream! It troubles me.'

“'Well, mother, I will not try it now. Let the war interpret it; it will
do it correctly, doubtless. Let us talk about something else. You know
dreams amount to nothing now-a-days.'

“During all this time, Peter wore a serious countenance. We discussed
the matter as to how Tom should go about raising his regiment. It was
understood that he should start out at once, and that Peter should take
the recruits, as fast as organized into companies, and place them in
the camp of instruction at Indianapolis. The next morning Tom opened a
recruiting office in Allentown, placed Peter temporarily in charge, and
started through the country making speeches to the people (he was quite
an orator), and soon succeeded in arousing patriotic sentiments in
and about Allentown. After raising two companies, he extended his
operations, going down on the O. & M. R. R. to Saco, a town then of
about 1,000 inhabitants. While addressing the people, a mob gathered and
were about to hang him. He stood them off until the Union people came to
his rescue and saved his life.”

“That is just as it was where I lived,” said Col. Bush. “I know of just
such a case, where a mob tried the same thing; some of them, however,
repented before they went to heaven, I hope.”

Uncle Daniel continued:

“He left the town, however, under a guard and returned home. Soon after
this he made a second effort, by arming 20 resolute men of his recruits
with Colt's revolvers, which he procured from the Governor of the State,
and returned to Saco. He at once gave notice that he would speak the
next day. When the time arrived, he told his men to take positions in
the crowd, scattering as well as they could in his front. This done he
commenced his speech. Soon mutterings of the crowd could be heard, and
finally the storm came and they rushed towards the stand. He shouted
at the top of his voice, “Hold!” at the same time drawing his revolver,
declaring he would shoot the first man that advanced another step, and
also raising his left hand above his head. This was a signal for his
men to “fall in,” and they all rushed into line in his front with
drawn weapons. The crowd instantly ran in all directions, much to the
amusement and gratification of Tom.

[Illustration: Tom and the Mob 030]

“There were some loyal men in that community, and before leaving Saco,
Tom had raised a full company. When the day came for them to leave,
they marched with the flag presented to them by the ladies of the town
proudly waving, and with drum and fife making all the noise possible.
There was no more disturbance there, except in secret. The 'secesh'
element murdered several soldiers afterwards, and continued secretly
hostile to the success of our army. In a few days after this Tom had
recruited another company. There seemed then to be an immediate demand
for a regiment, with a brave and daring officer, at the Capital, for
some reason not then made known. Tom was ordered to have his four
companies mustered in, and, attached to six already in camp; he was
commissioned Colonel, and the regiment was numbered the ---- Indiana
Infantry Volunteers. Tom Anderson looked the soldier in every respect.
He was five feet eleven, straight as an arrow, well-built, large, broad
shoulders, black eyes and hair, and martial in his bearing.

“He placed his family in my charge. The next day after Tom had left
(Peter Lyon, my son, having gone before him with the recruits), my wife,
Mary, Jennie, the three children and myself, were all on the porch, when
a tall man, fully six feet, rather fine looking, made his appearance at
the gate, and asked if that was where Daniel Lyon lived. As I answered
in the affirmative, he opened the gate and walking in, saluted us all
with:

“'How do you do? Do you not recognize me? I am James Lyon.'

“I sprang to him and grasped his hand, his mother threw her arms around
his neck and wept for joy, the other women greeted him heartily, and the
little children rushed to him. Although they had never seen him before,
they knew he was some one they were glad to see, as their fathers and
uncles, whom they knew, were gone from them. We all sat down and the
Doctor, as I must call him (being a physician by profession), gave
us some of his experiences of the last few weeks. When he received my
letter and commenced getting ready to leave, the people of Winchester
suspected him of preparing to go North to aid the Union, and so they
threw his drugs into the street, destroyed his books, and made him leave
town a beggar. He walked several miles, and finally found an old friend,
who loaned him money enough to get to my place.”

Mr. Reeves, who was of the party, said:

“I have been through all that and more, too. I had to leave my wife and
family, and was almost riddled with bullets besides; but it is all past
now.”

“I have been greatly interested, Uncle Daniel,” said Dr. Adams, “and am
taking down all you say in shorthand, and intend to write it up.”

“The next day,” continued Uncle Daniel, “the newspapers had telegrams
stating that the troops at Columbus and other places had been ordered
to the East for active operations. I said to Dr. James that he must
stay with the family while I went to Washington, as I wanted to see the
President on matters of importance. The truth was, I wanted to see David
and Harvey, as well as the President. I started the next morning, after
telling the women and children to be of good cheer.

“When I reached Washington I found the army had moved to the front, and
was daily expecting an engagement, but I could not understand where. I
at once visited the President, to whom I was well known, and told him
my desire, which was to see my sons. He promptly gave me a note to the
Provost-Marshal, which procured me a pass through the lines. That night
I was in the camp of my son David, who, you remember, was a Colonel.
After our greeting we sat down by his camp chest, upon which was spread
his supper of cold meat, hard crackers and coffee, the whole lighted by
a single candle inserted in the shank of a bayonet which was stuck in
the ground. While enjoying the luxury of a soldier's fare I told him all
about the family, his own in particular. Harvey enjoyed the things said
of him by the children which I repeated. The Colonel, however, seemed
thoughtful, and did not incline to very much conversation. Looking up
with a grave face he said to me:

“'Father, to-morrow may determine the fate of the Republic. I am
satisfied that a battle, and perhaps a terrible one, will be fought very
near here.'”

'I asked him about the armies, and he replied that we had a very
large army, but poorly drilled and disciplined; that the enemy had the
advantage in this respect. As to commanding officers, they were alike
on both sides, with but little experience in handling large armies.
He suggested that we retire to rest, so that we could be up early, but
urged me to stay at the rear, and not go where I would be exposed.
To this I assented. Soon we retired to our couches, which were on the
ground, with but one blanket apiece and no tent over us. I did not sleep
that night. My mind was wandering over the field in anticipation of what
was to occur.

Early next morning I heard the orders given to march in the direction of
the gaps. Wagons were rolling along the road, whips were cracking, and
teamsters in strong language directing their mules; artillery was
noisy in its motion; the tramp of infantry was steady and continuous;
cavalrymen were rushing to and fro. I started to the rear, as my son had
directed, and ate my breakfast as I rode along. About 10 o'clock I heard
musket shots, and soon after artillery; then the musketry increased. I
listened for awhile. Troops were rushing past me to the front. As I was
dressed in citizen's clothes, the boys would occasionally call out to
me, 'Old chap, you had better get back;' but I could not. I was moved
forward by some strong impulse, I knew not what, and finally found
myself nearing the front with my horse on the run. Soon I could see the
lines forming, and moving forward into the woods in the direction of the
firing, I watched closely for my son's command, and kept near it, but
out of sight of the Colonel, as I feared he would be thinking of my
being in danger, and might neglect his duty. The battle was now fully
opened--the artillery in batteries opening along the line, the infantry
heavily engaged, the cavalry moving rapidly to our flanks. Steadily the
line moved on, when volley after volley rolled from one end of the line
to the other. Now our left was driven back, then the line adjusted and
advanced again. The rebel left gave way; then the center. Our cavalry
charged, and our artillery was advanced. A shout was heard all along the
line, and steadily on our line moved. The rebels stubbornly resisted,
but were gradually giving way. The commanding General rode along the
line, encouraging all by saying:

“'The victory is surely ours, Press forward steadily and firmly; keep
your line closed up;' and to the officers, 'Keep your commands well in
hand.'

“He felt that he had won the day. For hours the battle went steadily on
in this way. I rode up and down the line watching every movement. I took
position finally where I could see the enemy. I never expected to see
officers lead their men as the rebels did on that day. They would rally
their shattered ranks and lead them back into the very jaws of death.
Many fell from their horses, killed or wounded; the field was strewn
with the dead and dying; horses were running in different directions
riderless. I had never seen a battle, and this was so different from
what I had supposed from reading, I took it for granted that, both sides
being unacquainted with war, were doing many things not at all military.
I learned more about it afterward, however. From an eminence, where I
had posted myself, I could see a large column of fresh troops filing
into the plain from the hills some miles away. They were moving rapidly
and coming in the direction of the right flank of our army. I at once
rode as fast as I could to the left, where my son was inline, and for
the first time that day showed myself to him. He seemed somewhat excited
when he saw me, and asked: 'In Heaven's name what are you doing here?'

“I said: 'Never mind me, I am in no danger.'

“I then told him what I had seen, and he at once sent an orderly, with
a note to the General commanding. In a short time, however, we heard
the assault made on our right. It was terrific. Our troops gave way and
commenced falling back. The alarm seemed to go all along the line, and
a general retreat began without orders. Soon the whole army was leaving
the field, and without further resistance gave away the day. The rebel
army was also exhausted, and seemed to halt, in either joy or amazement,
at the action of our forces.

“Just as our army retired I found a poor young officer wounded. I let
him take my horse, thinking that I could walk as fast as the army could
march. I came to the place formerly occupied by my son's regiment. There
I found quite a number of wounded men, and my young son Harvey trying to
help one of his comrades from the field.

“Neither army was then in sight. I heard the sound of horses' hoofs;
looked up, and saw a cavalry troop coming. I supposed it to be our own,
and did not move. They dashed up where we were, and Col. Hunter, in
command, drew his sabre and cut my dear boy down. I caught him as he
fell, his head being cleft open. I burst out loudly in grief, and was
seized as a prisoner. I presume my dress and gray hair saved my life.
I was torn from my son and made to walk some three miles, to the
headquarters of Gen. Jones, who heard my story about my adventure and
my dead boy. He at once released me and sent an officer with me to that
part of the field where my dead child lay.

[Illustration: Death of Harvey Lyon 035]

“I shall ever respect Gen. Jones. He is still living, and respected
highly for his great soldierly qualities. I walked on the line of our
retreat until I came up with a man driving an ambulance. I took him
back with me and brought my son away from the field to the camp of his
brother, whom I found in great distress about Harvey, but he was not
aware of what had befallen him. I pointed to the ambulance, he looked
and saw him lying there dead. He fell on my neck and accused himself for
having brought the young boy away from home to encounter the perils of
war. I was going to take his body back to his mother, but the Colonel
said:

“'No; bury him like a soldier on the battlefield.'

“So I gave way, and we buried him that night in the best manner we
could. He now lies in the cemetery at Arlington. My sorrow was great
then, but I am past it all now, and can grieve no more.”

Col Bush here interrupted, saying:

“'Uncle Daniel, you made a narrow escape. My heavens! to think of a
father carrying his young son dead from the battlefield, slain by an
enemy in such a villainous and dastardly way.”

“What a blow to a father,” said Dr. Adams. “Uncle Daniel, this Colonel
was a demon to strike down a youth while assisting a wounded comrade. He
deserved to be killed.”

“Yes, it would seem so. I felt just as you do, and my son David uttered
many imprecations against him. But, you see, we forgave all these men
and acquited them of all their unholy deeds. Col. Hunter has become a
very prominent man since the war, and now holds a high position in
one of the Southern States. You know, in the South, the road to high
position since the war has been through the rebel camps.”

“Yes, yes! Uncle Daniel, that is true. Not so, however, with us in the
North. The road to high position here is not through the Union camps,
but through wealth and the influence of what is called elegant society,
where no questions are asked as to how or where you got your money, so
you have it.”

“It does seem so, Doctor, now; but it was not so in our earlier days. I
am sorry to confess that this change has taken place.

“After going through the scenes of this battle, now called the battle of
the 'Gaps,' and burying my son, I felt for the time as if I could have
no heart in anything the only thought on my mind was how to break the
sad news to his mother. The Colonel said he would keep the name from the
list of the dead until I could return home to be with the mother, so as
to console her in her grief. I bade my son, the Colonel, farewell. There
he stood, quiet and erect, the great tears rolling down his cheeks.
I commenced my sad journey alone. In going to Washington I overtook
straggling detachments, teams without drivers, and found on the road
general waste of army materials, and equipage of all kinds in large
quantities. Arriving in Washington, everything was in great confusion.
The old General then in command of all the forces was dignified and
martial in his every look and movement, but evidently much excited.
There was no danger, however, as both armies were willing to stand off
without another trial of arms for the present. I saw the President and
told him what I had witnessed, as well as my misfortune. I advised that
no movement of our forces be again attempted without further drilling
and better discipline, as I was sure good training would have prevented
the disaster of that day. On my way home I was oppressed with grief,
causing many inquiries of me as to my distress, which only made it
necessary for me to repeat my sad story over and over again until I
reached Allentown. My friends, there was the great test of my strength
and manhood. How could I break this to my wife? They had all heard the
news of the battle, and were in sorrow over our country's misfortune. On
entering the gate all rushed out on the porch to welcome me back, eager
for news; but my countenance told the sad story. The Doctor was the
first to speak:

“'We know about the battle, father,' said he; 'but your face tells me
something has happened to the boys. What is it?'

“Sarah and the women stood as pale as death, but could not speak. Then I
broke down, but tried to be as calm as I could, and said:

“'Our dear Harvey is killed.'

“My wife fell upon my neck and sobbed and cried aloud in despair until
I thought her heart would break. The children ran out to their mother,
crying:

“'Oh! mother, what is the matter? Is papa hurt? Is he shot?'

“They screamed, and the scene was one that would have melted the
strongest heart. James stood and gazed on the scene. When all 'became
somewhat calm, my wife was tenderly placed in bed, and Jennie, after
hearing that the Colonel was safe, staid with her. To the others I
related my experience on the battlefield, and the death of Harvey,
his burial, my capture and release, my arrival at and departure from
Washington, and all up to the time I reached home. The saddest time I
ever spent in my life was during the long, weary hours of that night;
the attempt to reconcile my wife to our sad fate, the fears expressed
by the wives of the Colonel and Tom, the questions of the children, and
their grief and sobs for their Uncle Harvey--they all loved him dearly;
he had petted them and played with them frequently, entertaining them in
a way that children care so much for. Many days my wife was confined to
her bed, the Doctor keeping close watch over her. Weeks of sadness and
gloom in our household passed before we seemed to take the matter as a
part of what many would have to experience in this dreadful and wicked
attempt to destroy the peace and happiness of our people. In the
meantime, Col. Tom Anderson (as he was now a Colonel), and my son Peter,
who had been made a Captain in Col. Anderson's regiment, came home to
see us, and tried to make it as pleasant for us as could be done under
the circumstances. When Peter heard of Harvey's death, through Col.
Anderson, he was very much affected and wept bitterly.

“'That dream haunts me,' he said, 'by day and by night. I know my fate
so well.'

“This amazed the Colonel, and he asked Peter what he meant by this
nonsense.

“'I know,' said Peter, 'but--'

“'But what?' asked the Colonel.

“'Nothing,' replied Peter, and the conversation on that subject dropped
for the time being.

“The visit of Col. Tom and Capt. Peter, as we now out of courtesy called
them, made the time pass much more pleasantly. Col. Tom and the Doctor,
both being good conversationalists, kept the minds of the family as much
away from the battle of the Gaps as possible. The Doctor having lived in
Virginia and Col. Anderson in Mississippi, their conversation naturally
turned on the condition of the South. The Doctor said 'there are in
Virginia many Union men, but they were driven into secession by the
aggressiveness and ferocity of those desiring a separation from the
Government.

“'Those people are opposed to a Republican form of Government, and if
they succeed in gaining a separation and independence, sooner or later
they will take on the form of the English Government. They now regard
the English more favorably than they do the Northern people, and the
most surprising thing to me is to see the sentiment in the North in
favor of the success of this (the Southern) rebellion. True, it is
confined to one political party, but that is a strong party in the North
as well as the South.

“'One of the dangers that will confront us is the tiring out of our
Union people at some stage of the war, and following on that the success
by the sympathizers with the rebellion in the elections North. If this
can be brought about it will be done. This is part of the Southern
programme, and they have their men selected in every Northern State.'”

“'I have heard this discussed frequently, and their statements as to the
assurances that they have from all over the North--in New York, Ohio,
Pennsylvania, Indiana, Illinois, and so on. In Ohio, their chief adviser
from the North, Mr. Valamburg, resides. Such men as “Dan” Bowen and
Thos. A. Stridor, both very influential and prominent men, are regarded
as ready to act in concert with them at any moment. Should that party
succeed, with such men as I have mentioned as leaders, the independence
of the Confederacy would at once be acknowledged, on the ground that we
have failed to suppress the rebellion, and that a further continuance
of the war would only prove an absolute failure; and I fear that our
Northern peacemakers would then cry “peace! peace!” and acquiesce in
this outrage upon our Republic and our Christian civilization,” 'Yes,'
replied Col. Tom; 'but, Doctor--there is a feature preceding that which
should be carefully considered. I fear, since I have heard what is
going on here, that these Northern secessionists and sympathizers will
organize in our rear and bring on war here at home. I was ordered to the
Capital to watch this movement. They are organizing all around us. I was
about to be mobbed near here for trying to raise troops for the Union
army. Thos. A. Strider, of whom you spoke, is doing everything he can
to discourage enlistments. He speaks of the Republican President as “a
tyrant and this war as an unholy abolition war,” and people listen to
him. He has been considered a kind of oracle in this State for many
years, as you know.'

“Just then Jennie returned from the post-office with two letters
from Col. David--one to her and one to the Doctor. This concluded the
conversation between Col. Tom and the Doctor. Jennie's letter gave her
a more complete description of the battle of the Gaps than any he had
heretofore sent. He spoke of my appearance on the ground and the
tragic death of Harvey. The household assembled and listened with great
attention, except my wife, who went weeping to her room, as she could
not hear of her boy without breaking down, wondering why it was her
fate to be so saddened thus early in the contest. The Doctor opened his
letter and found that the Assistant Surgeon of Col. David's regiment had
died from a wound received at the battle of the Gaps, and the Governor
of Ohio had commissioned Dr. James Lyon Assistant Surgeon at the request
of the Colonel. He was directed to report to his regiment at once. This
was very gratifying to the Doctor, as he felt inclined to enter the
service.

When his mother heard this she again grew very melancholy, and seemed
to think her whole family were, sooner or later, to enter the army
and encounter the perils and vicissitudes of war. The next morning the
Doctor bade us all good-by, and left for the army of the East. The visit
of Col. Anderson and Pefer helped to distract our attention from the
affliction which was upon us. Peter, however, was very quiet and seemed
in a deep study most of the time. His mother finally asked him if he had
thought of her dream, saying it troubled her at times. He smiled, and
answered:

“'Mother, I think this war will interpret it. You know there is
nothing in dreams,' thus hoping to put her mind at rest by his seeming
indifference; but he afterwards told Col. Anderson his interpretation.”

Dr. Adams here asked Uncle Daniel if he knew Peter's interpretation.

“Yes; it was certainly correct, and so it will appear to you as we
proceed in this narrative, should you wish to hear me through.”

“My dear sir, I have never been so interested in all my life, and
hope you will continue until you tell us all. I am preserving every
sentence.”

“The day passed off quietly, and next morning Col. Anderson and Peter
left for their command. Mary was brave; she gave encouragement to her
husband and all others who left for the Union army. She was very loyal,
and seemed to be full of a desire to see the Union forces succeed in
every contest. In fact, the letter of her brother to her husband seemed
to arouse her almost to desperation; she went about quietly, but
showed determination in every movement. She taught her little daughter
patriotism and devotion to the cause of our country, and religiously
believed that her husband would yet make his mark as a gallant and brave
man. She gave encouragement to my good wife Sarah, and to Jennie, Col.
David's wife. She told me afterwards, out of the hearing of the others,
that she hoped every man on the Union side would enter the army and help
crush out secession forever.”





CHAPTER III.

     BATTLE OF TWO RIVERS.--COL. TOM ANDERSON MEETS HIS BROTHER-
     IN-LAW.--UNCLE DANIEL BECOMES AN ABOLITIONIST.--A WINTER
     CAMPAIGN AGAINST A REBEL STRONGHOLD.

     “Cease to consult; the time for action calls,
     War, horrid war approaches.”--Homer

For a season battles of minor importance were fought with varying
success. In the meantime Col. Anderson had been ordered with his command
to join the forces of Gen. Silent, at Two Rivers.

Here there was quiet for a time.

“At length, however, orders came for them to move to the front. For a
day or so all was motion and bustle. Finally the army moved out, and
after two days' hard marching our forces struck the enemy's skirmishers.
Our lines moved forward and the battle opened. Col. Anderson addressed
his men in a few eloquent words, urging them to stand, never acknowledge
defeat or think of surrender. The firing increased and the engagement
became general. Gen. Silent sat on his horse near by, his staff with
him, watching the action. Col. Anderson was pressing the enemy in his
front closely, and as they gave way he ordered a charge, which was
magnificently executed.

“As the enemy gave back, evidently becoming badly demoralized, he looked
and beheld before him Jos. Whitthorne.

“The recognition was mutual, and each seemed determined to outdo the
other. Anderson made one charge after another, until the enemy in his
front under command of his wife's brother retreated in great confusion.
Col. Anderson, in his eagerness to capture Whitthorne, advanced too
far to the front of the main line, and was in great danger of being
surrounded. He perceived the situation in time, and at once changed
front, at the same time ordering his men to fix bayonets. Drawing his
sword and rising in his stirrups, he said:

“'Now, my men, let us show them that a Northern man is equal to any
other man.'

“He then ordered them forward at a charge bayonets, riding in the centre
of his regiment. Steadily on they went, his men falling at every step,
but not a shot did they fire, though they were moving almost up to the
enemy's lines. The rebel commander shouted to his men:

“'What are these? Are they men or machines?'

“The rebel line wavered a moment, and then gave way. At that instant a
shot struck Col. Anderson's horse and killed it, but the Colonel never
halted. He disengaged himself, and pushing forward on foot, regained his
line, and left the enemy in utter rout and confusion. Whitthorne
was not seen again that day by Anderson. The battle was still raging
on all the other parts of the line. First one side gained an advantage,
then the other, and so continued until night closed in on the
combatants. A truce was agreed to, and hostilities ceased for the time
being.

“The Colonel worked most of the night, collecting his wounded and
burying his dead. His loss was quite severe, in fact, the loss was very
heavy throughout both armies. Late in the night, while searching between
the lines for one of his officers, he met Whitthorne. They recognized
each other. Col. Anderson said to him:

“'Jo, I am glad to see you, but very sorry that we meet under such
circumstances.'

“Whitthorne answered:

“'I cannot say that I am glad to see you, and had it not been for making
my sister a widow, you would have been among the killed to-day.'

“The Colonel turned and walked away without making any reply, but said
to himself:

“'Can that man be my wife's brother? I will not, however, condemn him;
his blood is hot now; he may have a better heart than his speech would
indicate.”

“Thus meditating, he returned to his bivouac. In the morning the burying
parties were all that was to be seen of the enemy. He had retreated
during the night, and very glad were our forces, as the battle was
well and hard fought on both sides. The forces were nearly equal as to
numbers.

“Col. Anderson did not see the General commanding for several days; when
he did the latter said to him:

“Colonel, you handle your men well; were you educated at a military
school?'

“The Colonel answered:

“'No; I am a lawyer.'

“General Silent remarked:

“'I am very sorry for that,' and walked on.

“Tom wrote his wife a full report of this battle. He called it the
battle of Bell Mountain. It is, however, called Two Rivers. He said that
Gen. Silent was a curious little man, rather careless in his dress;
no military bearing whatever, quite unostentatious and as gentle as a
woman; that he did not give any orders during the battle, but merely
sat and looked on, the presumption being that while everything was going
well it was well enough to let it alone. In his report he spoke highly
of Col. Anderson as an officer and brave man.

“This letter of the Colonel's filled his wife's heart with all the
enthusiasm a woman could possess. She was proud of her husband. She
read and re-read the letter to my wife and Jennie, and called her little
daughter and told her about her father fighting so bravely. We were all
delighted. He spoke so well of Peter also. Said 'he was as cool as an
icebox during the whole engagement.' He never mentioned to his wife
about meeting her brother Jo on the field until long afterwards.

“The troops of this army were put in camp and shortly recruited to their
maximum limit. Volunteering by this time was very active. No longer did
our country have to wait to drum up recruits. The patriotic fires were
lighted up and burning brightly: drums and the shrill notes of the fife
were heard in almost every direction. Sympathizers with rebellion had
hushed in silence for the present--but for the present only.”

[Illustration: The Charge of Col. Anderson's Regiment 045]

“Uncle Daniel,” said Major Isaac Clymer, who had been silent up to this
time, “I was in that engagement, in command of a troop of cavalry, and
saw Col. Anderson make his bayonet charge. He showed the most cool and
daring courage that I have ever witnessed during the whole war, and I
was through it all. Gen. Pokehorne was in command of the rebels, and
showed himself frequently that day, urging his men forward. He was
afterwards killed at Kensington Mountain, in Georgia. We got the
information very soon after he fell, from our Signal Corps. They had
learned to interpret the rebel signals, and read the news from their
flags.”

“Yes, I have heard it said by many that our Signal Corps could do that,
and I suppose the same was true of the other side.”

“O, yes,” said Col. Bush, “that was understood to be so, and towards the
end of the war we had to frequently change our signal signs to prevent
information being imparted in that way to our enemy.”

“There was a Colonel,” said Major Clymer, “from Arkansas, in command
of a rebel brigade, in that battle, who acted with great brutality. He
found some of our Surgeons on the field dressing the wounds of soldiers
and drove them away from their work and held them as prisoners while the
battle lasted, at the same time saying, with an oath, that the lives of
Abolitionists were not worth saving.”

“Yes. The Colonel mentioned that in his letter and spoke of it when
I saw him. He said it was only one of the acts of a man instinctively
barbarous. His name was Gumber--Col. Gumber. He has been a prominent
politician since the war, holding important positions. You know, these
matters are like Rip Van Winkle's drinks--they don't count, especially
against them.”

“'But among Christian people they should,' said Dr. Adams.

“'That is true, but it does not. There are two distinct civilizations in
this country, and the sooner our people recognize this fact the sooner
they will understand what is coming in the future. But, returning to my
story, the winter was now coming on, and I had to make provision for the
families that were in my charge, so I called the women together and had
a council as to what we would do for the best; the first thing was to
arrange about sending the little girls to school. After discussing it,
we concluded to start them the next day to the common school. Our public
schools were said to be very good. So the next morning my wife, Mary and
Jennie all started with the children to school. They saw the teacher and
talked with her, telling her that their fathers were in the army, and
she entered them in school. They came and went, back and forth, and
seemed greatly pleased during the first week, but on Wednesday of the
second week, they came running home crying and all dirty, saying that
some of the school children had pelted them with clods and pebbles,
calling them Abolitionists. Little Jennie said to me:

“'Grandpa, what is an Abolitionist?'

“I replied: 'One who desires the colored people to be free, and not sold
away to strangers like cattle.'

“'Grandpa, do white people sell colored people like they sell cows?'

“'Yes, my child.'

“'Well, grandpa, is that right?'

“'I think not, my child. Would it be right for me to sell you away from
your mother and send you where you would never see her again?'

“'Oh! no, grandpa; you would not be so wicked as that. I would cry
myself to death; and mamma--what would she do without me, she loves me
so?'

“'Yes, said little Sarah, 'I love sister, too. I would cry, too, if you
sent her away where I could not see her. Why, grandpa, people don't do
that, do they? Your are only fooling sister.'

“'No, no, child; in the South, where the war is, there are a great
many colored people living. They are called slaves. They work for their
masters and only get what they eat and wear, and their masters very
often sell them and send the men away from their wives and children, and
their babies away from their mothers and fathers.'

“'Grandpa, do they ever sell white people?' asked Jennie.

“'No, my child.'

“'Well, why don't they sell white people, too?'

“'Oh, my child, the law only allows colored people to be sold.'

“'Well, grandpa, I don't think any good people ever sell the little
children away from their mothers, any way.'

“'No, my child, nor any grown people either.'

“'Well, grandpa, you wouldn't sell anybody, would you?'

“'No, my child, I would not.'

“'Well, then, grandpa, you are an Abolitionist.'

“'Yes, in that sense I am.'

“'Well, grandpa, I am one, too, and I will just say so at school,
and will tell the boys and girls who threw clods at us and called us
Abolitionists that they sell people like cows, and that they are not
good people.'

[Illustration: Pupils attacking the little Abolitionist 048]

“'Yes,' said little Mary Anderson, 'I know what colored people are.
They've plenty of them down where we came from. They call them
“niggers”. They are mighty good to me, grandpa, and my papa doesn't sell
'em. He is a good man. He don't do bad like those rebels, does he, ma?'

“'No, my child, your papa does not sell anybody. He is against it. He
never owned anyone. He does not think it right to own people.'

“'No; my papa don't, does he, ma? He is going to fight the people that
sell other people, ain't he, ma?'

“'Yes, my darling; but don't say any more. Let us go in and get our tea,
and you will feel better.'

“This interference of little Mary and her mother let me out of a scrape,
for I say to you, friends, that I was getting into deep water and would
have very soon lost my soundings if Jennie and little Sarah had kept
after me much longer. You see, the truth is that I had never been an
Abolitionist, but a Freesoil Democrat; but soon I became a full-fledged
Abolitionist after our flag was fired upon by the Secessionists.

“However, we all entered the house, and after tea, the children being
put to bed, we held another council and decided that inasmuch as there
was such great excitement in the country, and Allentown being such
a hot-hole of rebel sympathizers, it was not safe even to allow our
children to attend the schools. Jennie, however, being a good scholar
and having prior to her marriage taught school, we unanimously elected
her our family teacher, and setting apart a room, duly installed her on
the next Monday morning over our Abolition school, as we found on the
evening of our discussion with the children that they had converted the
household by their innocent questions.

“The next day I rode out to my son David's farm and saw Joseph Dent, the
man whom I had left in charge. I inquired of him if everything was all
right about the place, and he told me that he had moved his family into
David's house, as he feared some damage might be done to it, having seen
several persons prowling about at different times. He did not know who
they were, but was sure they meant mischief, as they were very abusive
of the Colonel, calling him a 'Lincoln dog,' after the manner of Dan
Bowen in his speech.

“Joseph said he was now prepared for them; that he had another man
staying with him, and if I would go with him he would show me what
they had done. I did as he asked me, he led the way into the house and
upstairs, where he showed me a couple of holes cut through the wall
in each room, just beneath the eaves, and standing in the corner was a
regular arsenal of war materials. I said to him that he seemed to be in
for war. The tears started in his eyes, and he said:

“'Uncle Daniel, I am an old soldier; was in Capt. David's company
when he was in the Regular Army. I came to him three years ago when my
enlistment was out. I will defend everything on these premises with my
life. I would be in the army now with the Colonel (I am used to calling
him Captain) if he had not asked me to stay here and take care of his
farm. These “secesh” will not get away with me and my partner very
easily, and should you hear of this fort being stormed, you bring some
men with you to pick up the legs and pieces of the fellows who shall
undertake it. Do not be afraid; we will take care of all here.'

“'Yes, Joseph, I see that. I will tell Jennie, and also write the
Colonel how splendidly you are doing.'

“'Thanks,' said Joseph, giving me the regular soldier's salute. 'Is
there anything wanted at your house, sir? Tell the Colonel's wife that
I will bring down anything that she may be wanting at any time. I will
certainly bring a load of wood in to-morrow.'

“We were in the habit of getting many things from the farm--butter,
eggs, chickens, potatoes, etc. All our wood came from there. Joseph was
very useful in many ways. I returned home satisfied that all was going
well at the farm.

“The weather was now getting cold and disagreeable; too much so, it was
thought, for any very serious army movements on our Western lines. The
rebels had collected a very heavy force at Dolinsburg, situated on a
high ridge, with hills sloping down to Combination River, one of the
tributaries of the Ohio. Here they had built an immense fortress, with
wings running out from either side for a great distance; on the outer
walls were placed large guns, sweeping and commanding the river to the
north. The rebels were well prepared with all kinds of war materials, as
well as in the numbers of their effective force, to defend their works
against great odds.

“Gen. Silent, who, it seems, always did everything differently from what
the enemy expected him to do, conceived the idea that he would try
to dislodge them. When the enemy heard that he was preparing to move
against them, they but laughed at such an attempt.

“The General, however, made ready, gave his orders, and his army was
soon in motion. The direction in which our army was to march was very
soon known, as it was impossible to keep any of our movements a secret,
on account of the great desire of newspapers to please everybody and
keep every one posted on both sides, the rebels as well as friends;
which prompted them to publish every movement made. This was called
'enterprise,' and it has been considered patriotic devotion by many,
especially the gold gamblers and money kings. This was not permitted
by our enemies; the publication of any secret expedition or movement of
their forces, by any one inside of their lines, would cost him his life;
and so in any army save our Union army. Why was this? It does seem to
me that this ought not to have been so. I have often thought of it, and
concluded it must have been fear. 'The pen is mightier than the sword'
has been truthfully said.

“Our Congress was afraid of the press, and were not willing to make laws
stringent enough for the army on this subject. The President was nervous
in this respect, and commanding Generals were afraid of criticisms; so
it was the only class that had the privilege of doing and saying what
it wished to, and, my friends, that is one of our troubles even now. Our
statesmen are afraid to speak out and give their opinions, without first
looking around to see if any one has a pencil and notebook in his hand.
This is getting to be almost unbearable, to find some person in nearly
every small assemblage of people, on the street, in the hotel, in the
store, even in your own private house, reporting what you have for
dinner, what this one said about some other one, what this one did or
said, or expects to do or say in the future. But I am wandering from my
story.”

“Well, Uncle Daniel, your discussions on all subjects are interesting,”
 replied the Doctor.

“I have been thinking of what you said about the press during the war,”
 said Col. Bush; “and taking what you said upon the subject of our great
ambition here in the North to get money, and let all else take care of
itself, I can see that the same sordid spirit pervaded the press during
our war; fortunes were made by many newspapers in that way; everybody
bought papers then; we sold the news to our own people for money and
furnished it to the rebels gratis. Get money, get money; that is our
worst feature, and most dangerous one it is, for the country's welfare.”

“I agree with you, Colonel,” spoke up Maj. Clymer, “but I would rather
hear Uncle Daniel talk. On any other occasion I would be delighted to
hear you.”

“I beg pardon, Uncle Daniel,” replied the Colonel. “I will hereafter be
a patient and delighted auditor.”

“Well, when the army was under way there was great excitement and alarm
throughout the North among the Union people. Our armies in the East had
not been successful, and the sympathizers with the rebellion all over
the country were again beginning to be rather saucy. They would
enjoy getting together and reading of our defeats and discuss, to our
disadvantage, the failures of our attempts to subdue the rebellion,
and in this way made it very uncomfortable for any person who loved
his country and desired its success. They would in every way try to
discourage our people by saying 'this movement now commencing will
only be a repetition of what we have already had so often lately in the
East.'

“But our army moved on, and during the march to the vicinity of
Combination River they were met by the enemy frequently, who were
trying to impede their march, and several severe skirmishes and
minor engagements occurred. They were now within some twenty miles of
Dolinsburg Fortress, when a sharp and very decisive engagement took
place between one battalion of cavalry, two batteries of artillery, and
three regiments of infantry on our side, where Col. Anderson was
the ranking officer, and therefore in command, and five regiments of
infantry, two batteries and one troop of cavalry on the side of the
rebels. They were posted behind a small stream, known as Snake
Creek, having steep banks. The action commenced, as usual, with the
skirmishers. After reconnoitering the position well, the Colonel
determined to send his cavalry and one regiment around some distance, so
as to cross the stream and strike the enemy's left flank. He could
not expect re-enforcements, if they might be needed, very soon, as he
marched on the extreme southern road, so as to form the junction with
the other troops on their extreme right, touching Combination River to
the south of the enemy's works, so as to be the extreme right flank
of our army. The enemy, finding his force was superior in numbers,
attempted to cross the stream with his infantry. The two batteries were
opened and poured shrapnel into the advancing column, dealing havoc and
slaughter on all sides. They tried to keep their line, but they soon
staggered, halted, and fell back. The Colonel then opened a destructive
musketry fire all along the line. Just at this moment he heard the
attack of his regiment of infantry and troop of cavalry on their flank.
He quickly advanced across the stream, and the enemy was in utter rout.

“He captured all his guns--six 12-pound Napoleons and four
howitzers--and a large number of prisoners. He followed closely on the
rear of the enemy, gathering in stragglers and squads of men until night
closed in and compelled him to desist and go into camp. When safety
from surprise was assured, he sent for one of the prisoners to get some
information about the road and the fortifications, commands, etc. After
ascertaining many things that he considered important, he found, upon
further inquiry, that his enemy upon that afternoon was commanded by
Col. Jos. Whitthorne, his wife's brother. He turned and said to Peter,
who was standing near:

“'This man seems to be my evil genius. I hope I will not meet him again.
It seems hard that I am to continually meet my own kindred in combat.
Is it possible that these people are willing to spill the blood of their
own friends and kindred, merely because they have failed to retain power
longer, and for that reason will destroy the Government?'

“'Yes,” said Peter; 'they will never be content except when they can
control other people as well as the Government. But see here, Colonel,
do you see this?' showing him a great rent in the breast of his coat and
vest; 'a pretty close call, wasn't it?'

“'By George! it was that!'

“'Well, never mind; but was not this about as nice a little fight as you
would wish to have for an appetiser?'

“'Yes, you are quite right; and that reminds me that I have not had a
bite to eat since four o'clock this morning. By the way, have you any
cold coffee in your canteen?'

“'O, yes, I have learned to keep that on hand. Here, help yourself.'

“The Colonel took a good drink, and turned to Peter and said:

“'What is the matter with that coffee?

“'Nothing; it is only laced a little.'

“'Laced? What is that?'

“'Why, I put a little brandy in it, that's all.'

“'That's all, is it? Well! that is something I have learned. Let me
taste it again.'

“Which he did, as Peter afterwards said, until there was none left. I
tell you these poor fellows were excusable for occasionally warming up
after a hard march or a battle. I have learned to look very leniently on
the shortcomings in that direction of the poor old unfortunate fellows
who are going through this hard world without a penny, after having
served their country faithfully. I see them nearly every day, forgotten,
neglected, no home, no friends to care for them; and to see them when
they pass by the American flag always salute it. I hope their fate will
be a better one in the next world.

“I well remember that during the war every one who cared for his country
would say, 'God bless the Union soldier and his family.' We all prayed
for them then; the good women in church, at home, in the hospital, at
the side of the sick, wounded or dying soldier, prayed fervently for
their safety here and hereafter. We loved him then, and say we do yet;
but we find the same men who reviled him then, complaining about the
pension list, and some saying: 'The Confederates fought for what they
believed to be right. We are all American citizens. Why not put all
on the same footing? Let us be brothers.' I tell you, my friends, the
people of this country are hard to understand. I heard the President of
the Southern Confederacy applauded this year. I was saddened by this,
and was glad that my time here could not be regarded as of great
duration. Can such things be? Am I dreaming? Where am I? Is it possible
that I am in Indiana and not in South Carolina? Am I under the Union
flag, and not the Confederate?”

Uncle Daniel here bowed his head, and in a whisper to himself, said:

“Is it so? Is it so?”




CHAPTER IV.

     BATTLE OF DOLINSBURG.--HEROIC CONDUCT OF COL. TOM ANDERSON
     --REPORTED DEAD.--HIS WIFE REFUSES TO BELIEVE THE REPORT.

     “There was speech in their dumbness, language in their very
     gesture, they looked as they had heard of a world ransomed,
     or one destroyed, a notable passion of wonder appeared in
     them; but the wisest beholder, that knew no more but seeing
     could not say, if the importance were joy or sorrow; but in
     the extremity of the one it must needs be.”--Shakespeare

The next morning the march was resumed. At an early hour the whole army
was in motion on different roads with the general understanding that the
command would close in line around the west side of the fortress that
afternoon. The weather being very disagreeable for marching, there was
delay on the roads, but, finally, late in the evening the army commenced
closing in and forming its line. The centre was commanded by General
Smote; the left, resting north, on the river, commanded by General
Waterberry, and the right, resting on an almost impassable slough,
connecting with the river, commanded by General McGovern. In moving into
position the place was found to be well protected by a heavy abatis and
chevaux-de-frise, from point to point, above and below the fortress.
This seemed impassable, and the enemy, seeing our army closing in around
them, kept up a terrible fire on our advancing columns, causing us very
severe loss in getting into position. It was at a late hour in the night
(when our lines were only partially formed) that our army rested, as
best as they could, in the snow and sleet; but not a murmur was
heard. The next morning our lines were advanced to the front and the
impediments removed as much as possible; though a severe and deadly
fire was poured upon our men most of the day. Late in the afternoon an
assault was ordered in the centre, and a bloody affair it was; again
and again our brave fellows moved on the works, but were as often driven
back with severe loss. About 'o'clock Gen. Silent came riding along
with an orderly by his side, his staff having been sent in different
directions with orders. He came up to where Col. Anderson was sitting
on his horse, watching the engagement in the centre. Gen. Silent, after
passing the compliments of the day, said to the Colonel:

“'Your engagement at Snake Creek (that being the name of the creek where
the Colonel met the enemy the day before) was a rather brilliant affair
as I learn it.'

“'Yes,' said the Colonel; 'it was my first attempt at commanding in a
battle, but we had the best of it.'

“'Yes,' said the General; 'and now I want to see if you can do as well
here. I wish you to assault the enemy's works in this low ground on the
right, in order to draw some of his forces away from the centre; our
forces are having a hard time of it there.'

“Col. Anderson gave the order at once to prepare for action--knapsacks
and blankets were thrown off, and the assaulting column formed. The
General rode away after saying:

“'It is not imperative that you enter their works; but make the assault
as effectual as you can without too great a sacrifice of men.'

“The Colonel looked at the ground over which they must pass and viewed
the works with his glass, but said not one word save to give the command
'Forward!' On, on they went, and as they moved under a torrent of leaden
hail, men fell dead and wounded at every step; but they went right up
to the mouths of the cannon. There they stood and poured volley
after volley into the enemy, until at last he began to give way, when
re-enforcements came from the centre, as was desired. The Colonel's
force could stand no longer. Sullenly they fell back to a strip of woods
when night closed in, and the battle ceased for the day.

“Our lines were much nearer the enemy than in the morning.

“The centre held their ground at last, and all was still, Part of the
night was employed in hunting the dead and wounded. Many were wounded
and frozen to death, being left on the ground during the night. The
suffering in front of Dolinsburg was something almost indescribable--it
snowed, sleeted, hailed and froze during the whole of the night. The
troops did not sleep, nor did they attempt it; they had to form into
squads and walk around trees all night. No fires could be lighted--they
were so close to the enemy's entrenchments. Just at daylight the sharp
sound of their skirmishers was heard. They had concluded to move out on
our right and attack us on our flank, and open the way for the escape
of their army. On they came. Our line was soon formed and our musketry
opened. During the night one of our batteries had been brought up and
given position on a slight elevation to the right of Col. Anderson's
centre. The enemy opened furiously on our line, and in a few minutes our
battery was knocked to pieces and was charged by infantry. Here there
was a bloody conflict; men fell by the score; the snow was reddened
by the blood of both patriots and traitors. The smoke seemed to hover
around the trees and underbrush, as if to conceal the contending forces
from each other. The flame of musketry and the red glare of the cannons
lighted up the scene with a lurid tint. Limbs fell from the trees,
and the ground was mown as smoothly of weeds and underbrush as if by
a scythe. Our right was under orders to hold their position at all
hazards. The battle, dreadful and bloody, continued. By degrees the
troops on the right of Col. Anderson gave way and abandoned the field.
At noon but one regiment besides Col. Anderson's withstood the enemy on
the right of our line. They were terribly cut up, and having no food,
were nearly exhausted. Their ammunition was growing scarce, none having
been brought up to this point for their supply. In this condition
they stood like a wall, under the most galling fire of artillery and
musketry, their comrades falling like grass before the sickle. At
length the enemy's cavalry appeared in the rear; not in line, but as if
observing the battle with a view of taking advantage at the proper time
of any mishap that might occur in our lines. Col. Anderson seeing this,
and feeling that his command was now in great peril, conceived the idea
of a bayonet charge on the line to his front, and so ordered it.

[Illustration: Col. Anderson Wounded 059]

“His line moved forward, in a double-quick, and with a shout drove the
enemy, who was stampeded by the impetuous assault. The Colonel, being
on foot, led his men right up to the works, the enemy having been driven
inside. As he leaped forward to them, with sword in hand, calling to
his men, 'Come on, my boys,' he fell, as they then thought, mortally
wounded. The enemy seeing this made a fresh assault, and drove our
force back. Col. Anderson was left on the field supposed to be dead. The
battle raged all along the line. Our right was driven and forced under
the brow of a hill. While under this partial shelter a portion of the
enemy made their escape through this unoccupied part of the field.
At this time our left made a successful assault upon the works of the
enemy, capturing their outer line and forcing them into their more
contracted lines but more strongly fortified. The centre had made
several ineffectual assaults and had lost in killed and wounded very
heavily. Re-enforcements came to the right, and a renewal of the assault
all along the line was ordered. To the work of blood and death the men
again came forward with a heroic will, and for about an hour the battle
was like the long roll on a thousand drums. The air was filled with
shells; the heavens were lighted up as if meteors were flying in all
directions; the rumbling of artillery was heard as batteries changed
position, and the loud commands of excited officers. On and on moved
the serried masses. As the lines opened by the dropping of the dead and
wounded, 'close up, boys,' could be heard. It was now about dusk. One
grand charge all along the line, one grand shout, 'up with the flag,
boys!'--all was over, the fortress was ours, and the Stars and Stripes
floated over Dolinsburg. That night, however, was a night of gloom and
sorrow in our army. Gen. McGovern was killed in the last assault. Gen.
Smote was badly wounded and died a few days later. Gen. Waterberry,
a brave and gallant officer, fell a few weeks later at the battle of
Pittskuk.”

“I remember when Waterberry fell, poor fellow,” said Col. Bush.

“Yes, many a poor fellow lost his life in those two battles. We captured
a great number of prisoners. Gen. Bertram surrendered. Many of his
leading officers were killed and wounded, and some made their escape
through the opening in our line on the right, where Col. Anderson fell
wounded.”

Dr. Adams asked: “Uncle Daniel, did you ever hear of him? Was his body
found?”

“Yes, Doctor, and the story of that and his recovery is a very singular
one. Peter searched diligently for him, but failed to find him; this
distressed him so much that he decided to ask for a leave and return
home, so as to stay a short time with the family and do what he could
to help us bear the sorrow of the Colonel's supposed death. After our
grief-stricken family could have the patience to listen to his recitals,
he gave us the story just as I have told it. Mrs. Anderson, although
stricken down with grief, insisted that her husband was not killed,
or he would have been found among the slain; that a man of such marked
features would have been noticed by some one who did the interring. The
Captain insisted that there could be no doubt but that he was killed.
Time passed on, but little Mary would continually ask, 'If her papa
was dead?' 'Was he shot?' Who had killed him?' and a thousand other
questions which constantly kept her mother thinking of the Colonel's
fate, and soon she determined to go in search of him. Peter was leaving
for his regiment, now under command of Colonel Rice. Col. Anderson
having been reported as killed, Rice had been promoted Colonel, and
the regiment had moved with the army in a southwesterly direction some
considerable distance from Dolinsburg. Still there had been troops left
there, so that it was perfectly safe to visit the battle-field, there
being no rebel force in that part of the country at that time. I agreed
to go with her, and made all the arrangements necessary for the family;
the farm of Col. David having been looked after, and our family-school
reorganized under Jennie, which had become demoralized by the news of
Col. Anderson's death. In the meantime we had heard from Col. David and
James, who were well, and also had letters from Stephen and Henry; both
had joined the army: Stephen in an infantry regiment from Ohio, where he
lived, and Henry in a cavalry regiment from Michigan, where he had been
employed for a time in surveying for a company; so at this time I had
one son left not yet in the army, he being my third son, Jackson, who
was then engaged in railroading in Minnesota. We had not heard from him
for some time, and his mother was sorely troubled, expecting soon to
hear of the last of the Lyons being in the army. This, she thought, was
a little more than ought to be required of any one family.”

“So say I, Uncle Daniel,” spoke up several of the listeners.

“True, true; but our country's demands should be satisfied by her
citizens, no matter what they may be. Well, when all was arranged, Mary
Anderson and I started. We went as far as we could by cars and boat, and
then obtained horses and traveled on horseback to Dolinsburg. Coming to
the pickets we were halted, and, on telling our errand and where we
were from, we were taken to the headquarters of Col. Harden, who was in
command of the post. We were well received and most hospitably treated
by himself and officers. They all sympathized with Mrs. Anderson; knew
of the Colonel's gallant conduct in battle, but all thought there was
no use of a search for him; that he was certainly killed in charging
the works near the fort. They showed us where he made the assault. After
resting for the night we started on our search, Capt. Day accompanying
us as guide and protector. We first went to the place where the Colonel
fell, but there was nothing but long trenches, where the dead had been
buried. We passed over the battle-field, which was mowed down smoothly
by bullets. Limbs of trees had fallen in confusion, furrows were plowed
in the ground by shell, horses' skeletons, broken muskets, pieces of
wagons, parts of caissons, spokes, ammunition boxes, pieces of blankets,
coats, pantaloons, parts of tents--everything in pieces, the evidences
of a great contest were marked at every step. Late in the afternoon,
worn out with walking and the excitement, we returned, very much
disheartened. We dined on soldier's fare, which seemed to us delicious.
After discussing the battle and the probabilities of the result of the
war until a late hour, we retired to the camp cots for a night's rest.
Next morning we got ready for a start. Mary Anderson inquired of Col.
Harden which way the rebels who got through our lines had retreated.
He answered her that they retreated on a road along the river up stream
some twenty-five miles, and then crossed on a boat that had come down
the river on its way to Dolinsburg, which was stopped by the retreating
rebels. Mary said:

“'Uncle Daniel, I am going to that place if I can be allowed to do so.'

“I replied: 'This would be a very tiresome and fruitless trip, my child;
but if you will be any better satisfied by doing so, I will make it with
you.'

“Col. Harden said he would send a small escort for protection, though
there was no danger of any force of the enemy, but there probably would
be some wicked people there who might do us some harm. He had our horses
brought out, and sent Capt. Day and ten mounted men with us. The road
was somewhat rough, but very passable for saddle-horses. When we had
gone about ten miles we met a colored boy, some fourteen years old, who
said he was going to Dolinsburg. Mrs. Anderson rode on with Capt. Day.
The escort was in front of them. I asked the boy why he was going to
Dolinsburg. He said he lived about ten miles further up the river, and
that an old colored woman, called 'Aunt Martha,' had sent him down to
see if any soldiers were at Dolinsburg; and if so, to tell them that
there was a Union officer at her house, sick.

“'Do you know his name?' I asked.

“'No, sir; but Aunt Martha calls him Massa Tom.'

“I trembled all over. My blood was hot and cold by turns.

“'When and how did he come there?” asked.

“He said that the rebels had left him. My brain was now dizzy, and I
told him to turn back and take me to the place. We rode past the rest
of the company while they were resting for a short time. I told them I
would ride on to the place where the river was crossed, and wait there
for them. Mary was hearing all she could from Capt. Day about the
battle, and so she raised no objections. I inquired of the boy as to
the appearance of the sick officer. He described him as very pale, black
hair, eyes and beard. I could understand his being pale, and felt sure
it was Col. Anderson. I asked the boy if he ever spoke to him. He said
he had not, but Aunt Martha talked to him about his wife and little girl
and Uncle Daniel. I now was positive it was Tom. I reeled in my saddle
and nearly fell from my horse. What should I do? I could not tell Mary,
for if it proved not to be him she would not be able to bear it. So I
rode on. After a long time we came to the house. It was some hundred
paces from the road, a square log cabin or hut, occupied by an old
colored woman ['Aunt Martha ') and her husband['Ham'), both over sixty
years, I should judge.

[Illustration: Uncle Daniel meets Aunt Martha 064]

“The old aunty was in the yard, a smooth, hard, flat piece of ground,
fenced off by a low fence, about four rails high, which a man could
easily step over. I saluted her with:

“'How do you do, aunty, do you live here?'

“'Yes, sa, I lives heah--me and Ham, my ole man. What is you, massa? Is
you Union or is you “Sesh?”'

“'Oh! I am a Union man,' I replied.

“'Den I is glad to see you. I'll jes' call Ham. He runned away when he
seed you. He's feared; yes, he's dat. He isn't gwine wid de “Sesh” any
mo'.'

“'Well, aunty, have you a Union officer in your cabin, sick?'

“'Well, now, massa, I'se jes' got to know who you is afore I 'fess on
dat case.'

“'Well, aunty, I am Daniel Lyon, sometimes called “Uncle Daniel.”'

“'Afore God, is dat you, Massa Lyon? Jes' get off yo' hoss an' wait rite
heah; I be back in a bit.'

“She hobbled in, evidently to speak to the Colonel. I waited quietly
until she returned. Just then the others came in sight, and I sent the
boy to halt them. Aunty came out so excited that she could hardly speak.

“'Sho' as you is born'd, dat Massa Tom knows you; but, sah, he's
powerful weak, an' you must exclose who yo' is to him in a most
delicacious manner, or you'll incite him. He's 'fraid, sah, dat you is a
exposter.'

“'O, no, aunty, I am his uncle and benefactor.'

“'Yo'is what?'

“'His uncle,'

“'No, but de oder t'ing what you is?'

“'His benefactor.'

“'Glory to God! Is you? May de Laud shine his light in dis pore house,
an' brush away de fears ob dis misfortunate famly.'

“Then she called Ham.

“'Oh, yo' Ham, come heah.'

“I entered the cabin and beheld Col. Anderson, as pale as death, lying
on a poor, broken-down bed. I knelt by his side upon the floor and wept
aloud. The Colonel could only whisper. Extending his hand, while the
great tears were rolling down his face, he asked:

“'Is my wife with you? How is my child?'

“He was greatly excited and very weak. I arose from his bedside and
told him who were coming, and begged him to be calm. Aunty brought some
cloths and laid on his breast, saying to him:

“'Now, Massa Tom, you mus' be still. Don' be like I tole you. You
mussent get 'cited now--nuffln of the kine. Jes' see de folks like yo'
allers done. Dey's come a mighty long ways to fine yo'. Wish dey stay
away 'til I cure yo'; but spose it's all rite. De good Laud he done
knowed de bes'. Maybe de “Sesh” come take him some day afore long, so de
Laud he knows what he wants. Bress de good Laud.'

“'I went out to meet the others. Mary at once asked me what the matter
was. I spoke as gently as I could, and said:

“'Mary, Tom is still alive.'

“She instantly leaped from her horse and made for the cabin, and in an
instant was at the bedside of her husband, covering his face with kisses
and tears. Tom was too weak to more than whisper 'my dear wife,' and
weep in silence. Old Ham had come in, and stood in one corner of the
room looking on the scene with his hands locked together over his head.
He was heard to say over and over in a low tone: “'De Lord bress dese
chilien.' “Aunt Martha took hold of Mary, saying: “'Deah Misses, yo'
jes' stop dat cryin'. You ought to be 'joiced dat Massa Tom be libbin.
You ought ter seed him when de “Sesh” fotched him heah. I tell you dat
was de time what fotched me down, I done got rite on my old knees an'
axed de good Laud to spar dis good Massa Tom. I knowed him the berry
minute I laid my eyes on him. Many's de time I make his bed and cook his
dinnah. I tell you all about dat. Why, dem “Sesh,” when dey fetch Massa
Tom heah in de old wagon, dey des frowed him out like he been a hog, and
tole Ham an' me dat we mus' dig a hole and put him in; dat we be killed
if we don't. I done went and looked at him, an' tole Ham dat he wasn't
dead; dat he was wa'm an' bredin. So Ham an' me jes' carried him into
dis house, an' got blankets and kivers, and wash him wid wa'm water, and
took keer on him; setted up all de time, one or bofe on us, and kep' him
good an' wa'm, an yo' see he's done gittin' well. De good Laud heah our
prayers, an' he whisper to pore ole Marfa dat he gwine to fetch him out
for some good he gwine to do for us pore people. Bress de Laud; he is
good to us. I tell yo', de man what said to dig a hole fo' him is a
bad man; his name is Whitthorne. I 'member de name kase I knowed de
Whitthornes in Jackson, Miss., when I libbed there. Yes, dat so.'

“At this Mary broke down again. She felt sure that this was some of her
people. Aunty continued:

“'Ole Massa Gawge (George), that we b'longed to, move upheah six year
ago, on dis place, from Jackson. He libbed up dar on the hill in dat
white house dat yo' see up dar, dat am locked up an' no one is in it.
Dey got lot ob t'ings in dar. When de Union whip de Sesh at Dolins-burg,
and de Sesh come dis way, gwine home or some-whar, den Massa Gawge an'
all de famly dey go, too, an' take all de niggers 'cepin' me an' Ham.
Dey say we's too ole, an' dey done lef us to take keer ob de place; dey
leabe de smoke-house so we kin git in an' git sumpin to eat. Well, dey
is plenty in dar, an' we lib all right, and, bress de Laud, dat save
Massa Tom's life. De good Laud fix it dat way, sho' as yo' born. He take
tkeer ob de good folks.'

“Old Ham, who had been silent, broke out:

“'Yes, dat's so, massa, dat's so. De Laud do do dis. He done told me up
at de smoke-house to take all dat we wanted, an' dat when Massa Tom done
get well, dat we mus go wid him 'way from heah an' lib with Massa Tom;
dat de Sesh kill us when dey find out we done cure him up. Yes, sah, de
Laud say dat to me, sho.'

“I said to him: 'Ham, are you sure the Lord said that; did you not dream
it, or was it not Aunt Martha that said it?'

“'No, massa, no; de Laud told me, sho! I know 'twas he. De words come
right down frough de smokehouse when I was gittin' meal to make de gruel
for Massa Tom. O, no, massa; Martha was down heah. I told Martha when I
come back.'

“'Well, Ham, what did Martha say?'

“'She say dat we must 'bey de Lord; dat he was mo' our massa den Massa
George; don't we b'longs to de Laud mo' dan to Massa George. Den I say
dat's well, Martha; you know, and if you b'lieve in dat we go. An' we is
gwine wid Massa, sho.'

“'If you should go, Ham, they would accuse us of stealing you, and have
us arrested for it.'

“'Well, I doesn't know 'bout dat. I knows we can steal our ownself away,
an' go to de place whar Massa Tom lib; I knows dat. We's gwine; dat's
done fix; we's gwine.'

“The Colonel had been listening, and smiled to find that these two good
old people loved him so, and he nodded his head to Ham, which caused him
to laugh immoderately.

“'It's done fix,' said Ham, and he left the cabin.

“I said: 'Aunty, have you any children?'

“'Laud bless yo' good soul, we has six chilien some whar; don't know
whar. Massa George he sole our chilien 'way from us soon as dey was six
year old. I never see any ob dem since den; neber heard anything 'bout
dem. He sole 'em 'way down on de Gulf some whar; neber would tell us.
Dey done forgot us, or whar we lib, long go; dey so young when dey taken
'way, O, dey do dat way, so de ole folks not fine 'em. I tell you, Massa
Lyon, 'tis purty hard on ole folks, to lose de chilien dat way. If
dey die an' de Laud take dem 'way, dat's all rite; de Laud know he own
business; but when dey sole 'way, dat hard. You see, dese people dey got
chilien, but dey tink we no keer for our'n. Dat is whar dey don't know.
We does keer jes as much as de white folks, but we can't help ourself,
dats all. I tell you dat's bad. O, I cry myself nearly to deff 'bout my
chilien; but all do no good; dey done gone; I neber see dem any mo'. If
I was to, dey would not know me, an' me not know dem; so no good now to
cry any mo'; dey be all dead, maybe--hope dey am--den dey work for de
Laud and Master all de time, and not be worked all de time fo' de people
for nuffin' an' doin' no good. Yes, I hope dey is all done dead. Wish I
knowed dey was, den I'd be feelin' good. You see, me an' Ham talked dis
all ober. We neber see our chilien no mo' no matter whar we is; so we am
gwine where we will be counted wid de people an' not wid de cattle. Yes,
sah; dat's what we's got in our heads; dar's no use tryin' to put it
out; it in dar, an' dar it stay. We's gwine, sho'.'

“'Well, well, aunty, all right; I will see that you go. I will take the
consequences. I will not see as good an old couple as you are held like
cattle if I can help it.'

“The old woman shouted 'glory,' and hobbled out of the cabin, I presume,
to tell Ham what I had said.

“By this time the Colonel had recovered somewhat from his excitement,
and quietly and in a low voice told us how he came to be there. He said
that when he was wounded on the works of Dolinsburg and left for dead,
that some one came along and stanched the flow of blood by binding some
cloth around the wound saturated with something--his wound was through
the right breast, touching slightly the right lung--that in the
afternoon, when a portion of the rebel army passed over the ground that
he occupied, Col. Whitthorne, his wife's brother, discovered him and had
him placed in one of his ambulances, bringing him away; had no knowledge
as to what his intention was--whether to take him to some place of
safety--some hospital, or let him die and bury him where his remains
could afterwards be found by his family; that up to within a few days
he had no idea where he was; that these old colored people had kept his
whereabouts a profound secret, except among a few of their race
whom they could trust; that when he found a force was stationed at
Dolinsburg, he got them to send there and give the information, so that
he might make some arrangement about getting away, for fear of recapture
by the enemy, and they had sent the boy that we met. He was anxious
to get away, and thought that he could bear being moved in some easy
conveyance to Dolinsburg in two or three days' travel. We consulted
together, and Capt. Day sent a messenger back with a letter to Col.
Harden, asking him to send an ambulance and a surgeon the next day,
we remaining with the Colonel until their coming. There was plenty of
fodder at the plantation barns, and the men took care of the horses.
Aunty prepared a sufficient quantity of wholesome food for ourselves. We
passed the night without much sleep, the Captain and I using our chairs
for beds, as there was not sufficient accommodation for us all; Mrs.
Anderson slept on the bed by her husband, and the men found comfortable
quarters in the stables. We enjoyed ourselves, however, hearing Aunt
Martha and Ham tell us how they had taken care of the Colonel; how
they had bathed and dressed his wound once each day with warm water and
poultices of white-oak ooze and slippery-elm bark; how they stopped
the bleeding with soot from the wooden chimney; how they dosed him
occasionally, when his wound seemed painful, with good whiskey that Ham
got up at the house on the hill (he had managed to force an entrance
somehow); and how every day they asked the Lord to heal his wound and
make him well, so he would take them away from their long suffering and
unhappy life. The story of the old woman was most interesting as well as
very amusing. The next morning we had bread, coffee and chicken, which
was relished by all, I assure you. The Colonel was fed on gruel and a
piece of chicken. Aunty, who had him entirely under her control, would
not allow him to eat anything else. After breakfast was over I asked
Aunty how she came to know Col. Anderson, and she in her way told me the
story of her having been hired out once by her master to Col. Anderson's
family before the Colonel was married, and she said:

“'Laud bressyou, chile, I know Massa Tom soon I put my eyes onto him.
Yes, sah. I neber let on, doe. He didn't know nuffin when they frowed
him out heah like a pig. No, sah. He was mos' dead, sho'. Dat's one time
he mos' done gone to glory, sho'. But he all right now; he come out. An'
when he do, oh, great Laud, don't I jes' want him to go for dem “Sesh.”
 Yes, I tell you, I do. Dar is no mistake on dat pint.'

“The day passed. The Colonel improved and conversed considerably with
his wife. We left them together all we could to enjoy their reunion.
He was very desirous of getting away and having the assistance of a
surgeon, who, however, could do no more for him than was being done.
In the afternoon late, however, there came an ambulance and the Post
Surgeon. This seemed to give new life and spirit to all. The Surgeon
entered the cabin, and, after pleasantly conversing about the Colonel
with us, proceeded to make an examination of his wound. Aunty was
determined to be present. She raised the Colonel up, and showed the
Surgeon where the wound was, its condition, etc. He said it was healing
rapidly, and would be well soon, but that he would be some considerable
time gaining sufficient strength to do any service. He said that aunty
ought to have a diploma; that she had treated him as skillfully as
anyone could have done, and much better than some might have done, Aunty
at once replied:

“'I tell you where you gib de “'plomas.” You jes' gib dem to de Laud. He
is de one what do dis work. I tell you, He keep Massa Tom for some good.
I don't know what, but he is got some good work afore he, sho' I tells
you, de Laud never show dis pore old nigger what to do, des like she
be a doctor, less He wanted Massa Tom to do something. He know what He
wants. He know all t'ings, de Bible say so, an' dats the book you can't
'spute.'

“We all agreed with aunty, and she was happy. The next morning the
ambulance was arranged in the best possible manner and the Colonel
tenderly carried out and laid in, his wife and Aunt Martha having a
place arranged so they could stay in the ambulance with him. We all
started, old Ham tying their belongings up in a couple of blankets and
lashing them on a horse loaned him by one of the escort. We were
two days in making Bolinsburg, but did it without any very great
inconvenience or suffering to the Colonel. When we arrived Col. Harden
welcomed us most heartily, and made all necessary arrangements for the
comfort of Col. Anderson, as well as the rest of us. I noticed that Col.
Harden said nothing about the two colored people, and did not seem to
notice them, so I called his attention to them. He looked at me rather
quizzically and remarked:

“'Why, I did not observe any colored people. You did not bring any
through the lines, did you?'

“I took the hint, and said:

“'O, Colonel, what did I say? I was a little absent-minded being up with
Col. Anderson; and loss of sleep has bothered me.”

“So, you see, I got out of the scrape. Orders then existed against
bringing colored people through the ines, as I learned afterwards.
He (Col. Harden) always said that he was color-blind, and could not
distinguish between the color of people. I remained several days, and
Col. Anderson continued to improve. I, however, felt that I ought to
go home and look after the family. So old Ham and I got ready, and bade
good-by to all, after returning thanks for the kindness shown us. We
took the two horses that Mary and I rode to Dolinsburg and made our way
through in several days to Allentown. I preferred to go all the way on
horseback, to save, perhaps, some trouble about Ham. He claimed to be
freeborn and from Ohio, where I formerly lived. This went as sound, and
no trouble ensued. Ham lived at our house and did chores for us and made
himself generally useful. I related the whole story to the family and
made all happy, especially little Mary Col. Anderson's child, who had
the impression fixed on her mind that her papa had been killed, like her
Uncle Harvey. We received letters from David and James, in the Eastern
army; also, from Stephen, who had marched with the regiment to which
he belonged to the Army of the Center, then in the western part of
Kentucky, and on the way to Pittskill Landing, where the Union forces
were now concentrating. Henry wrote that his regiment of cavalry had
been ordered to the East to report to Gen. Kilpatterson. Having heard
from all our family, except Jackson, we were again happy. We all longed
for the day to come when Col. Anderson and his wife would return home,
and were anxious also to see the good old colored woman who had been a
mother to him during his illness. The children especially asked me every
day about Aunt Martha; how she looked? if she was as black as Uncle Ham?
and why Mr. George sold her children? and in any other questions that
could not well be answered.”

“Uncle Daniel, I knew Col. Harden, of whom you spoke,” said Maj. Clymer.
“He was a good soldier, went all through the war, and died in 1868. He
was rather an old man for the service, and was never well after the war
closed.”

“Yes; I heard of his death; I kept track of him up to that time; he was
a good man.”

“Uncle Daniel,” said Dr. Adams, “the implicit faith of those two old
colored people was an example that might well be followed by the masters
now.”

“Yes; the colored people are the most faithful on the face of the earth,
and deserve better treatment than they are getting in the South.”

“Why is it that they are deprived of their political rights in the
Southern States?”

“My dear sir, that is easily answered. As I have heretofore repeated in
the discussion of other points, the controlling element in the South is
now, as it ever has been, an aristocracy of and for power. They do not
intend that in any way or by any means, lawful or otherwise, the control
of their States shall pass out of their hands; by this means they will
control the General Government. It would be the same were these colored
people white; if they were poor and not of the ruling class, they would
be deprived of their rights in the same way. They believe that they
were born to control, and control they will, unless we shall find men
hereafter in charge of this Government with nerve enough to see that the
rights of the people are protected and enforced.”

“Yes,” said Col. Bush, “another war will come some day, and it will
commence at the ballot-box. People will suffer just so long and no
longer. The idea that I gave my right arm away for a Government that
allows its citizens to be bulldozed and murdered merely for desiring
to participate in the affairs of the Republic. No, sir! I fight no more
until I know what I am fighting for and also that we will sustain the
principles for which we contended.”

“This is a curious people. They are nearly ready for any kind of
government to-day, when only a few years ago they expended billions of
money and rivers of human blood for liberty, and now care nothing for
it. They made the gift of franchise to millions at a great sacrifice,
and now quietly smile at its surrender. O, yes; but how can you expect
anything else. Are we not apologizing every day for what we did? Do we
not avoid speaking of the war in the North? Are not some of our great
leaders to-day men who aided and sympathized with treason, while we
teach kindness to our erring brethren and forgive all? Do we not find
our flag despised nearly everywhere in the South? Do they not march
under their State flags instead of the Stars and Stripes? Are not all
their monuments to rebel leaders and Generals? Are not their school
books full of Secession sentiments? Do they not teach the children that
we conquered them with hired Hessians? While this is so in the South,
and any allusion to the war in the North is regarded as stirring up bad
blood, is it not submissive, cowardly and unworthy of any brave people,
and will it not result finally in their dominating over us? These are
the reflections that annoy me in my old and lonely days.”

Here he stopped, was silent for a moment, then said in a low tone:

“Why should I have lived to tremble now for the future of my country.”

The tears stood like crystals in his eyes, and he ceased to speak for
the present.




CHAPTER V.

     ANOTHER GREAT BATTLE--TWO DAYS OF AWFUL FIGHTING AT
     PITTSKILL LANDING--HARD-WON VICTORY-UNCLE DANIEL'S SONS BEAR
     THEMSELVES GALLANTLY.

     “But whether on the scaffold high, Or in the battle's van,
     The fittest place where man can die Is where he dies for man.”
      --Barry.

“During the suspense great preparations were being made for the various
campaigns by the several ar-armies of the Union, which caused much
excitement throughout the country. The many prisoners captured at the
fall of Dolinsburg had been sent to different camps in the North. The
secession sympathizers were vieing with each other as to who should
visit them the oftenest and show them the greatest consideration. The
whisperings of releasing them and organizing for 'a fire in the rear,'
as the saying went, were loud and plentiful I traveled to Indianapolis
and Chicago to see if I could learn anything of a definite character on
these points, and at both places heard mutterings and threats that were
calculated to produce alarm and also to make any loyal man feel
like beginning a war at home. Everything that was being done by the
authorities was denounced as arbitrary and despotic--their acts as
unconstitutional. In fact, no satisfactory act had been performed by
the Administration that was calculated to assist in putting down the
rebellion (according to their way of thinking). When I returned home I
found a letter from Peter, who had been promoted to a Majority in his
regiment. The Lieutenant-Colonel (Rice), as I before stated, had been
made Colonel, Major Pierce Lieutenant-Colonel, and Capt. Lyon (Peter)
Major. They had not as yet learned of the discovery of Col. Anderson.
I wrote to Peter, giving him in full the details in reference to the
Colonel, but told him not to reveal the facts to a soul until it should
be reported officially. In his letter, however, he informed me of the
massing of the rebel troops at Corin Junction, and the like process
going on at the High Banks, on the Little Combination River, now called
Pittskill Landing, and that he looked for hot work as soon as the Army
of the Center, under Buda, could make a junction with Gen. Silent. When
I read Peter's letter all the family were anxious about his fate, should
there be another battle fought. Old Ham was present and seemed to be
much interested in what I was saying. He had been entertaining the three
children with his simple stories about the 'Sesh,' as he and Aunt Martha
called the rebels. He spoke up, saying:

“'Massa Daniel, I tells you da's no danger, sah. I had a dream 'bout
dat. Massa Peter am all right, sah; I tells you he is. I neber dreams
'bout anything but what comes out good.'

“My wife asked Ham if he could interpret dreams. 'No, missis; I not know
'bout dreams 'cept my own. I knows dat Massa Peter all right.'

“There was no way getting the cunning old darkey to tell his dream. My
wife said to him:

“'I am troubled about a dream that I had at the commencement of the war.
It distresses me still.'

“She then related her dream, and he broke out into a laugh, saying:

“'Yes, but you see, massa got all he hands, all he fingers; dey all
dar--none done gone. Dat dream all good, kase, you see, he fingers all
right. O, dat's nuffin. De bug he be Sesh; skare you, dat's all; bite de
chilien little spec, dat's all.'

“We all laughed at the curious speech of old Ham, and yet he sat down
and commenced counting his fingers, and said: “'How many chilien yo'
got, misses?'

“'Seven.'

“'Ham became silent, and nothing more could be got from him on the
subject of the dream. He never spoke of the matter again to any of us,
except to Peter. I found after all was over that he and Peter had the
same interpretation--strange, yet so true.”

“Uncle Daniel, what was the interpretation, may I inquire the second
time?” said Dr. Adams.

“It was very strange; but the interpretation is disclosed by the
casualties of war, and as we proceed you will recognize it. But to my
story: The rebel and Union forces were now confronting each other, and
each was constantly on the lookout for the movements of the other. About
midway between the camps of the two armies they were almost constantly
having skirmishes, sometimes with cavalry, and sometimes with infantry.
The successes were about equal. Peter related the story of an old
colored man, I presume something after the style of old Ham, meeting him
while he was making a reconnaissance with his regiment. The old darkey
was tall and very black, and was walking in great haste when Peter
called to him:

“'Uncle, where are you going?'

“'Ise gwine to de ribber, sah. Ise ti'd ob de wa', Ise been cookin',
sah, for de 'Sesh.' He say he gwine to whip dem Yankees on de
ribber,--dat dey am gwine to come right on and drive dem in de ribber
and drown dem like cats; dat's what he say, sho'. I heah him wid dese
old ears, I did.'

“'When did he say he was coming?'

“'Well, massa, he say he comin' right off, sah; he say he kill 'em an'
drown 'em all afore de res' ob de Yankees come for help dem; dat's what
he say.'

“'Who was it said this?'

“'Why, sah, it wah de big Gen'l--de one what boss all de res'; he name
wah Massa Sydenton Jackson. He say he kill all ob you stone dead--he not
leab one ob em.'

“'If he is going to kill all of us, you don't want to go to our camp and
get killed, do you?'

“'No, sah; I doesn't spec' to git killed; I 'bout 'cluded dat I wait
till de shootin' git goin' pretty libely, den I jes' skip de ribber and
neber stop 'til I be done gone whar dey done got no wa'.'

“'How many soldiers have they in Gen. Jackson's army?'

“'Well, I dunno, but I 'spec' dar am somewhar near a million ob dem,
sah. Dey's got de woods full ob hoss sogers, an' all de fiel's full ob
'em what walks. Den dey got big guns wid hosses. Oh, Laudy, massa, I
dunno, but dey's heaps ob dem.'

“'What were they doing when you came away?”

“'Dey was campin' 'bout ten miles, I 'spose. I walk mighty fas', and I
is monstrous tired. When dey start dis mornin' I get outside and go in
de woods and keep whar I see dem all de way. When dey stop I keep on.
Dey be here in de mornin', sho'. I knows dey will, massa.'

“This being about all Peter could ascertain, he thought perhaps it would
be as safe back towards the main army, so he returned, bringing old
'Dick' with him, that being his name. When Peter reported with Dick at
headquarters the General cross-questioned the old man in a manner that
would have done credit to a prosecuting attorney, and said to Peter:

“'Major, I guess the enemy intend to try our strength very soon.'

“He then said to Dick:

“'You can go around behind my quarters. You will find some colored
people there, with whom you will remain until after we have this fight.
You can then go where you please.'

“'Bress de Laud, Massa Genl, you gwine to make me stay heah and get
shotted?”

“'Well, I don't know whether you will get shot or not but you will stay
as I direct.'

“'Afore God, Massa Gen'l, you see dese heah 'backer sticks, (meaning his
legs), 'dey go, dey go if dey shoot; I can't hole 'em. I tried dem one
time, an' I tell you dey won't stay. You can't hole 'em, no, sah; dey
git ebery time--when you 'spec dem be stayin' dey's gwine.'

“The General laughed at his peculiar expressions and sent him away. The
position of the Union forces was an exceedingly good one for defensive
operations. The country all around was covered with heavy timber and
very thick underbrush, save a small opening or field on the right center
and to the rear of our right flank. The ground was very uneven, full
of streams, gulches, hills and hollows. The line of the Union troops
stretched from Hawk Run to Bull Gulch and Buck Lick Junction, the right
resting on Hawk Run and the left at or near the Junction, the center in
heavy timber quite a distance farther south than either flank. The right
of the line was commanded by Gen. Sherwood, the left by Gen. Prince; two
divisions were in reserve, commanded by Gen. Waterberry. The Army of
the Center, under Gen. Buda, was within communicating distance, but
advancing very slowly, causing some fear that they would not get to
the field prior to the attack being made by the enemy, who was in great
force ready to be hurled against our comparatively small army at any
moment.

“The suspense must have been terrible for the time, but at last it was
over, for on the morning of the third day after Dick made his revelation
about the enemy's movements, our forces having become a little careless
on their front, the enemy were upon them without much warning. Just as
Gen. Sherwood was about to take his breakfast skirmishing commenced
not more than a mile from his camp, and nearer and nearer it seemed to
approach our lines. The 'long roll' was sounded and 'to arms' was the
cry all along the lines. The roads passing through the camp were leading
in almost every direction, affording the enemy ample opportunity for
unfolding their line all along our front by a very rapid movement, of
which they took advantage, and in rapid succession threw their divisions
in line of battle and moved with quick motion to the assault which was
made simultaneously along our front. From Peter's description it must
have come like a thunderbolt. They struck Sherwood's command on the
center and right flank and drove him from his first position back on
the reserves and a part of his command entirely from the field. So
thoroughly were they demoralized that they could not find time to return
to their places during that day. Sherwood tried to rally them, but
could not; so he joined his remnant to the first command he found, and
continued resistance to the impetuous assaults of the Confederates.

“The battle was now raging all along the line; our troops were in good
condition, and the ones that had won the victory at Dolinsburg were in
no wise discouraged. They came into action like veterans and stood the
first shock of the battle without the least movement to the rear or
panic. Our lines were again adjusted on the right, and one continuous
rattle of musketry from one end of the line to the other could be
heard. There was no chance for the operating of cavalry on either side.
Artillery was run up to the front by both armies. How the different arms
rattled and thundered. Batteries to the front, right and left rolled
amid confusion and death. Closer still the armies came until their eyes
were seen and aim taken as if in target practice. To the rear and front,
as the armies gained or lost a little of their ground, lay the dead
and the wounded. The shrieks and groans of the wounded and dying were
unheeded; the crushing of bones might also be heard as the artillery
rushed from one part of the lines to another. In this way the contest
continued for the greater part of the forenoon. At last our center was
penetrated and our right was forced back again with the center for the
distance of perhaps a half mile. Our left, having a better position,
under Gen. Prince, held their ground, and, turning their fire partially
on the advancing column that was forcing our right, checked them
somewhat in their rapid advance. At this critical moment our reserves
came up in good style and entered the conflict. The enemy were now
steadily driven back to their original position.

“Over the field the Union and rebel soldiers lay side by side, dead and
wounded alike. They were seen helping one another, their anger and fury
soon subsiding when they found themselves helpless by the side of
each other, and, perhaps, often asking 'Why are we thus butchering one
another?'

“This bloody battle raged with a deadly fury unparalleled on the
continent up to that time. Louder and louder roared the artillery and
more steadily and sharply rattled the musketry. The smoke was rising in
great clouds from the field of carnage. Gen. Silent was very impatient
on account of the non-arrival of Gen. Buda, as well as Gen. Wilkins,
whose division was some six miles away to the rear, and was expected to
come rapidly forward and strike west of Hawk Run, on the left flank of
the enemy; but no Buda and no Wilkins came. The battle was then raging
with great slaughter on both sides. The entire Union force was now
engaged, and the rebel commander was bringing his reserves forward and
re-enforcing his lines. He could be seen re-organizing his forces and
putting his reserves in line. Gen. Jackson and his staff were seen
riding along giving directions. He had on his staff one Gen. Harrington,
who seemed to be very active in moving about. Soon another assault was
made on our lines. The fresh troops seemed to inspire them with new
zeal, and on they came, steadily and firmly, with a constant and heavy
fire pouring into our lines. The assault was resisted for some time. It
seems that during this assault, their Commander-in-Chief, Gen. Sydenton
Jackson, was shot through the breast, falling from his horse dead. At
the fall of Jackson, Gen. Harrington seemed to become crazed and rushed
madly on, directing that every Yankee be killed. 'Bayonet them!' 'Kill
them like cats!' 'Let none escape,' he cried. So on they came like a
line of mad animals, sending forth such unearthly yells as to induce the
belief that all the fiends of the infernal regions had been turned loose
at once and led on by old Beelzebub himself. On, on they came. Our line
reeled and staggered under the assault. A fresh column came up under
Gen. Bolenbroke, and advanced rapidly against our right flank, and bore
down so heavily that our line on the right and centre again gave way. In
falling back, Gen. Waterberry, a gallant officer who had brought up our
reserves on our first repulse, was killed while trying to rally his men.

“His death seemed to create a panic, and Gen. Sherwood was unable to
hold the men to their line. He would form and reform them, leading them
himself; but when he would look for the command he was trying to bring
to the front, he would find them going to the rear, making very good
time.

“Peter's command was in this part of the line. He could hear this man
Harrington, as the rebels came rushing on, crying out: 'No quarter!'
'Kill every Yankee!' 'Let none escape!' 'Rid the country of the last
one!' 'Take no prisoners!' The panic continued on our right, and at
least one-half of this part of Sherwood's command broke, and was utterly
disorganized, hiding behind trees, in hollows and ravines, to cover
themselves from the enemy. In great numbers they sought roads leading
to the rear, and followed them without knowing to what point they might
lead. In this demoralized condition of one portion of our army, despair
seemed to set in. Gen. Silent sat on his horse looking sadly at this
condition of things. He spoke not a word. Riding up to Sherwood, who was
greatly excited, he said:

“'General, can you not send word to Prince to fall back slowly? I see
the enemy will soon be on his flank.'

“As the General rode away he said: 'I cannot understand the delay of
Buda and Wilkins.'

“He sent orderlies immediately to hurry them up, giving imperative
orders to them 'to move to the field of battle as rapidly as possible.'
In the meantime Gen. Hudson had gone to the support of Prince; our
forces on the right having steadily fallen back. It was too late,
however, to save him. The enemy had surrounded him before Hudson could
form on his right, and he was compelled to surrender with a portion of
his command, the rest having fallen back and thereby saved themselves.
Hudson joined on the remainder of Prince's command and made resistance
to the further advance of the enemy. Our line, being again intact, fell
back behind a ravine that crossed the battlefield from northwest to
southeast--from Moccasin Run to the river. The enemy by this time were
in possession of the camps of the Union forces, and partially giving
themselves up to plunder, the battle gradually slackened until darkness
closed in on the contending armies The enemy occupied our camps during
the night, intending the next morning to capture what was left of our
army. During the first part of the night they kept up a fearful noise,
evincing their joy over what they thought a great victory. Gen. Silent,
however, was engaged in arranging his forces for an attack at daylight,
being satisfied that he could surprise the enemy and defeat him, as he
would not expect our forces to fight, and, therefore, take the noise of
preparation for a retreat. The column under Gen. Wilkins came up early
that night and was posted on the right of our army, with its right on
Hawks Run.

“Gen. Buda also arrived during the night and was given position on the
left, his left resting on the river. The center, held by Sherwood, was
re-enforced by Hudson and that portion of Prince's command not captured.
The artillery was put in battery in the center and on the right center,
and orders given for the men to replenish their boxes with ammunition,
to sleep on their arms, and at 4 o'clock in the morning to make a
simultaneous attack all along the line with infantry and artillery,
moving the artillery rapidly to the front. This being understood, all
were quiet. The enemy were so confident of having our army at their
mercy that they lighted fires and made night hideous with their howls.
During the night the leaves and grass were set on fire by some unknown
means and burned over the battlefield, causing great consternation, as
many of the wounded were yet lying where they fell. Their shrieks and
appeals for help would have made the tears come to the eyes of the
most heartless. An allwise Providence, however, heard their prayers and
appeals for help, and the windows of heaven were thrown open and the
flood poured forth and subdued the flames, saving many a poor fellow
from dreadful torture and death. The storm continued nearly all night
swelling the little streams that ran through the battlefield, causing
the roads to become almost impassable. The stragglers were collected and
returned to their commands.

“At 4 o'clock the crack of musketry was heard, and soon after the
artillery from our lines opened and we were upon the rebels. They were
taken by surprise and thrown into confusion. The hurrying of officers
from one part of the field to another was distinctly heard by our men
and greatly encouraged our forces. On they moved, driving the enemy
pell-mell from our former camp. It was impossible, under our galling
fire, for the enemy to form in any compact line. They fell back as our
troops advanced. We struck them in front, on the flank, and, as they
sometimes turned in their retreat, in the rear. The slaughter for a
time was terrible and sickening. They were at last driven into the woods
where they had formed the day before. Here a lull came in the contest,
and they took advantage of it to form their line again, believing that
our advantage could only be temporary, having no knowledge of the number
of our re-enforcements. When they were in a condition to do so they
advanced and took the aggressive. On they came. Our line stood as
immovable as a rock, received the shock of their first assault, and
then poured the missiles of death into their ranks as if they were being
rained down from the heavens. For a time the lines both advanced slowly
and dealt death into each other. The commands from each army could be
distinctly heard by the other. Harrington on the rebel side was heard to
say:

“'Charge the Lincoln hell-hounds! Give the cowardly dogs the bayonet!'

“This gave our troops that heard it a contempt for the man, and a
determination to receive the charge in a soldierly manner. They stood
silent until the enemy was within close musket range, and at the
order--the batteries having come up--everything opened and poured volley
after volley into the advancing columns, which swayed and halted;
no power could press them forward. Our forces seeing this, advanced
steadily, firing as they moved. At last the rebel line gave way and fled
to the woods on their left, taking shelter among the trees. The ground
between the lines was now literally covered with the killed and wounded.
On our extreme left the battle was still raging, and seemed to be going
to our rear. Gen. Silent rode away to this part of the field. Finding
that our forces had fallen back nearly to the junction of Bull Gulch and
Buck Lick Run, he ordered Hudson to move rapidly and strike the enemy in
flank where the line had been broken by the falling back of their left
and center. This order was executed with much alacrity and was a great
success. Hudson struck the detached portion of the enemy's army in
flank and rear, and doubled them up (over the very ground from which
our forces had fallen back the day before), capturing many prisoners
and several pieces of artillery. Here he met a young officer whom he had
noticed moving rapidly to the front and assaulting the enemy with his
command at any and every point where he could hit him.

“Hudson rode up to him and inquired his name.

“'My name, sir, is Stephen Lyon. I belong to an Ohio regiment. I joined
the Army of the Center only a short time since, and this is my first
battle. I have lost many men; my Colonel and Lieutenant-Colonel were
both killed, and I am the Major and now in command of the regiment.'

“This was my fifth son in line of birth, and sixth in the service. I am
digressing, however. Their conversation was here cut short, as Gen. Buda
had ordered an advance along his line, which was the left wing of the
army. The advance was duly made. The rebels, however, in the meantime
had been re-enforced on this part of their line. The contest, therefore,
became a very stubborn one on both sides. The advance of Buda was soon
checked, and the fighting became desperate. Both armies to our right
seemed to have partially ceased their advance, seemingly to understand
how the event was being decided on this part of the line. The enemy
was driven slowly to the rear for some distance. A halt then came and a
rally on the part of the rebels. They organized into column of regiments
and made a desperate attempt to break the center of our left. Buda
massed his artillery against them, keeping it well supported, and mowed
them down with shell and canister until they lay in piles on the ground.
They advanced to the assault three times with a heroism and desperation
seldom witnessed in any ancient or modern battle, but each time back
were their shattered columns sent in utter confusion. Thus the battle
continued until late in the afternoon, when both parties reorganized for
a last and desperate struggle. The lines of the enemy showed all along
the skirts of timber, leaving the open space to our right and center,
and extending to Buck Lick Run. Both seemed eager to make the attack,
but our forces were first in motion, and with a quick-step movement they
advanced against the enemy. The firing opened all along the line. First
one and then the other line staggered and swayed to and fro. The forces
on both sides seemed determined to win or die on their ground. At last
Wilkins crossed Hawks Run and struck the enemy in his flank, causing
consternation to seize him, and he gradually gave way, his left flank
doubling back on the main line nearer the center. At this moment Gen.
Silent ordered an advance with infantry and artillery simultaneously.
This was executed in good order, the firing again became general. The
roar of artillery now was almost deafening. The yell of the enemy was
heard in every direction as though assaulting, but they could no longer
stand against our determined forces. Steadily on the advance continued;
the enemy stood, delivering his fire with deadly results, until our
army approached to the point where one or the other must give way.
The rebels, seeing that our force was coming with a steady step and
determination unmoved by their fire, broke in different parts of their
line, and finally the moment arrived when they could no longer stand our
deadly aim, and their whole line gave way. They retreated through the
woods and on different roads in great disorder; our forces followed up
their lines of retreat and kept a constant fire upon them until night
intervened, which protected them from any further disaster. This closed
one of the bloody battles of the war. That night our army again slept
upon their arms. Some supplies were brought to them during the night,
which stayed their hunger. The next morning the enemy was nowhere to
be seen or heard; he had made his retreat in the night, leaving many
wagons, ambulances and guns. The roads being made almost impassable by
the rain of the night before, their dead and wounded were left in our
hands, save those whom they had removed to the rear the night of
the first day's contest, when they held the ground. The battlefield
presented a ghastly and sickening sight,--the dead, the dying, the
wounded; the hospital in the rear, near the river; the parties burying
the dead, finding Union men and rebels piled up in heaps together;
the long trenches being prepared; the soldiers being wrapped in their
blankets and buried without any knowledge of who they were, or to what
command they belonged; the words of the dying to be taken back to their
friends; the messages to fond wives and blessed children; the moans and
shrieks of the wounded as they were carried on stretchers from where
they had lain and suffered, some of them, for two days and nights.

“These things, when first recited to me by my son Peter, filled me with
deep sorrow and pain. O, my friends, the suffering of our poor men for
their country was great-it was heartrending to hear of it. When the
sick, wounded and dead had been cared for, of course the army could not
move again very soon,--it must have rest and reorganization. So the
camp for the present was established a little in advance of the
battle-ground. Many were furloughed for a short time and returned home.
My son Peter came home on a leave, having been wounded late in the
evening of the second day. His wound being in his foot, he was unfitted
for duty for some time. His Lieutenant-Colonel having been killed that
day, he was promoted to the vacancy.

“While Peter was kept in the house (where he was confined by his wound),
he constantly entertained us by his recitals of all of these incidents
and movements that I have given to you in my poor way. It is a matter of
great interest to me to follow the history of men on both sides, and see
what their good or bad fortune may have been since. Now, on our side
in this great battle, Gen. Waterberry, one of our leading generals, was
killed on the first day. Gen. Hudson went through the war creditably and
died away from home in some of the South American states. Gen. Buda soon
left the army under a cloud, and I do not know what became of him. I
think, however, that he is dead. Wilkins went through the war with some
credit to himself, but was killed in Mexico afterwards in some of their
periodical revolutions.”

“Uncle Daniel, do you know the history of the rebel generals since the
war, who commanded in this battle of which you have been speaking?”
 asked Dr. Adams.

“Oh, yes! You know Sydenton Jackson was killed on the first day.
Bolenbroke was in the rebel army up to its surrender, but died soon
after from dissipation, as I have been informed.”

“I am curious to know what became of Dick, the darky,” he said.

Uncle Daniel smiled and said: “Dick, poor fellow, has not been seen
since his 'backer sticks' ran off with him, just as he said they would.”

“What became of Harrington, who wanted every d---- Yankee killed like
cats--bayoneted--without any quarter being shown, etc.?”

“He went to Mexico after the war closed; could not live under 'Yankee'
rule. He there tried to assist in establishing an empire. Was regarded
by some of the Imperialists as suited to become a Duke. When the Empire
fell, and no further hope of a dukedom arose before his flattered
vanity, he came back, and is now one of the leading governmental
reformers and placed in official position by his party (how strange to
say 'reformers'. They were once known by a different name). But things
are changing with the seasons now.

“You see, this great battle of Pittskill Landing, following so soon
after the battle of Dolinsburg, had marked influence on the country. The
people began to see that the question of courage did not depend so much
upon where a man was born as it did on the amount of it he had when
he was born, and the principle for which he was contending, as well as
drill and discipline in his duty. The people in the North were beginning
to learn that every hill in the South was not mined and ready to be
exploded, blowing up everything that approached. After becoming cool
they would ask themselves as to where the powder could have been
procured, etc.”

“Yes,” said Dr. Adams, “I remember well when it was reported, and
believed by many, that all the hills in Virginia, near Washington, were
mined, and that masked batteries were behind every bush.”

“Yes, I know many would speak of those things to prove that the
rebellion could not be conquered, or any headway made against it.
Just as though a masked battery was any more dangerous than a battery
uncovered; and without reflecting as to the quantity of guns that would
have been required, and the number of men supporting the batteries
at every place where they were by the vivid imagination of many whose
stories were invented for the purpose of frightening the ignorant.”

“The truth is that it was and is to me one of the great wonders how we
ever succeeded in putting down the rebellion, with nearly the entire
South in arms, while there were but few that were not in arms who did
not sympathize fully with those who were; and in the North a strong
political party, as an organization, prayed and worked for the success
of secession and rebellion. The only ones of the party who did not
sympathize with the rebellion were a few old men who knew the benefits
of a government, those who entered the Union army, those who had friends
in the service, and those who were taught to revere the Union in early
youth. The remainder of that party who desired our success were but
few and far between. They are now the ones, however, who saved the
Government, preserved the Constitution, the flag, and our honor, and are
going to reform all abuses and make everybody prosperous and happy.
The Colonel here, who lost an arm for his country, is laid aside as
'worthless crockery'; and as for myself, who gave seven sons to the
service of my country, I am of no use whatever. Of course, I am very
old, but I supposed that it would be considered an honor to me to
have made so great a sacrifice. So I went out to one of the Reformers'
meetings last Fall, and instead of being invited on the stand and
referred to as an old man who had given up his whole family for his
country's cause, I was permitted to sit on the ground and hear an old
Secessionist and rebel sympathizer extolled to the skies, with great
applause following, and one of our best and most gallant soldiers
ridiculed and abused as if he had been a pirate during the war. So it is
and so it goes. I am poor. So are all who spent their time in aiding
our country. The mistake we made was not to have staid at home and made
fortunes, and let these men, who “feathered their nests” during the war,
have gone and served in the army and showed their love of country.
We would now have been the patriots and the ones to be intrusted with
public affairs.

“But why should I care? I think I should not. But it is impossible for
me to lay aside my feelings on the subject of my country's welfare. I
will go down to my grave with the feeling that those who so loved their
country that they risked their lives for it are the safer ones to trust
with its control. I cannot see how those who did not wish the success of
our country and those who exerted every nerve to destroy it can be the
best persons in whose hands to place our vast interests.

“I may be wrong about this, however, and, therefore, will return to my
story, believing that the Lord doeth all things well.

“Peter and our family at home were sitting in the parlor. Jennie was
wrapping Peter's foot in cloths and bandages, when the conversation
turned on Col. David and Col. Anderson. Jennie had a letter from David
but a day or so before, which gave us the news of the good health of
himself and James, the doctor. It also informed her that Henry had been
assigned to duty in the same command with himself, which made it very
pleasant for them. My wife, Aunt Sarah, had received a letter from Mary
Anderson a day or so before which brought the gratifying intelligence
that the Colonel was improving rapidly and would be able soon to return
to Allentown and once more enjoy for a time the quiet of our home. He
was informed that he must not return to take the field again for some
months. While I was at home, trying to arrange the difficulty about
the colonelcy of his regiment, inasmuch as his discovery and return to
Dolinsburg had not been officially announced, I wrote to the President
the situation, telling him the whole story and calling his attention to
the reports of the battles in which the Colonel had participated,
and asking that he give him recognition by promotion to a
Brigadier-Generalship. With this request the President had kindly
complied, and I had his commission in my possession, which fact I kept a
profound secret. Just then Peter said to me:

“'What can be done to arrange matters in Col. Tom's regiment? There
is Col. Rice, who, when Tom takes command or when the facts are
ascertained, will be reduced in his command as Lieutenant-Colonel, and I
will go back as Major. This I do not care for, but Col. Rice is a proud
man, and will dislike this, I fear.

“'Then he will show himself an unworthy officer. He should be glad that
his Colonel is alive and yield up the command gracefully.'

“'There is no other way for him to do,' said Peter; 'that is true.'

“Old Ham was sitting off to one side with little Mary Anderson on his
lap. The child had been listening to what was said about her father. She
spoke to Uncle Ham, as she, with the rest of the family, had learned to
call him, and asked:

“'When is papa coming home? Is he well? Is mamma well? How will they get
home?' and many other questions.

“Ham said, 'I doesn't know. Hopes he git heah all right.'

“The old fellow seemed rather serious, and finally he asked Aunt Sarah
'If dat letta diin't say nuffln 'bout my ole woman Marfa.'

“'Oh, yes,' said my wife. 'Uncle Ham, you must pardon me; I was so
engaged talking to Peter and Uncle Daniel about our sons that I really
neglected to tell you. I will get the letter and read you what Mary says
about your wife.'

“She took the letter from her pocket and read to Uncle Ham that Martha
was well and so kind to Col. Tom, calling him her boy and saying 'the
good Laud' had saved him for some good purpose, and sent her love to her
'dear ole Ham.'

“Ham broke into a laugh and said: 'Datfs it; dat's good. I knowed she
say jes' like dat. I tell you, Aunt Marfa, she be all right. She know
something I tell you she do.'

“He then entered into a disquisition on Aunt Martha to little Mary,
until she seemed to feel as much interested in Aunt Martha as did Uncle
Ham.

“While we were enjoying the rest of the evening in conversation we heard
a noise coming from the children's bedroom. Jennie at once left us and
proceeded to the room and found little Sarah Lyon--David's youngest
child, then four years old--very sick with a violent attack of croup. We
at once sent for a physician. He came, examined her and pronounced
her very ill. He very soon gave her relief, that proved to be only
temporary. We watched her during the night. In the morning she had a
violent fever, and seemed to be very flighty. Everything was done for
the blessed child, but all in vain. That afternoon she passed away. This
was another stroke to our whole family. Jennie, her mother, was nearly
frantic. This was the first misfortune of any sort that had happened
in David's family. We were all cast down in grief, as we loved little
Sarah. She had been named for my wife, who had made the child a special
pet. Little Mary and Jennie were almost heartbroken by her death.
They cried continually, and could not be pacified for several days.
I telegraphed her father, but it seems my dispatch, for some unknown
reason, was not delivered for three days. When it was he was almost
crazed by the unwelcome news. It was too late, however, for him to come
home. This seemed to sadden him. He was never himself any more during
his life. Little Sarah lies in the cemetery at Allentown.”

Here the old man broke down and wept bitterly for a time. When he
recovered he said:

“My friends, it seems to me strange that I should weep now. My sorrows
are passed. I am only waiting here below for the reward that true
devotion must bring in the other world. There is no recompense for it
here. At least, I have only found that which comes from the affections
of a loving family. Oh! why should my family all-all have been taken
from me as they were? Who has had such a hard fate as mine? Yes! yes!
when I come to reflect, many have. Yes! when all are gone--one or
many--that is all; we can lose no more. My country, O! my country, it
was for thee they died.”




CHAPTER VI.

     “K. G. C.”--ORGANIZATION OF THE ENEMIES OF THE UNION IN THE
     NORTH--PLOTTING EVERYWHERE--OBJECTS OF THE TRAITOROUS
     LEAGUE.

     “The bay trees in our country are all withered,
     And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven--
     The pale faced moon looks bloody on the earth,
     And lean-looked prophets whisper fearful change,
     Rich men look sad, and ruffians dance and leap.”
      --Shakespeare.

“The loss of little Sarah had spread such a gloom over our household
that I felt a desire to be out at David's farm, away from the house, as
much as possible. Peter also seemed much depressed and showed a great
desire to return to his regiment. On one occasion, when Ham and I
returned in the evening, the conversation drifted in the direction of
the absent ones in the army, and to Harvey, who fell at the battle of
the Gaps. My wife at once alluded to her dream, which seemed to be
preying upon her mind almost constantly. Peter was silent, but I noticed
that he dropped a tear. After a moment he said:

“'Mother, you should not be constantly thinking of your strange dream.
You will become morbid on the subject, unless you drive it from your
mind. There is nothing in it that worrying will or can change. There can
be nothing sure in dreams, and if there is, you can only discover it in
the future. The war will reveal it all to you should there be anything
in it.”

“Ham must speak; it was thought by him to be his time.

“'Yes, missus, de wah 'splain it all. Massa Peter and me talk 'bout dat.
No danger come out of dreams, you know.'

“'Why, Ham,' said Aunt Sarah, 'I thought you dreamed about Peter, and
said he was all right. You assured us of it; and you said that you
always knew by your dreams when matters were all right.'

“'Yeas, yeas, missus; but, you see, I be fool on dat. You see, Massa
Peter come back wid a so' foot, shot up putty bad. I got fool on dat
dream. You see, Marfa allers tells me 'bout de dreams. So you see, I
jes' thought I could tell, too. I miss it. Yeas, I miss him dat time.
Marfa, she know, she do. She tell you all 'bout dem when she comed.'

“Then he laughed a regular darky laugh, as I found he was sure to do, if
he concluded he had drawn you off on a 'false scent,' or heard anything
that pleased him.

“Aunt Sarah was relieved. The fact that Ham admitted that he was
humbugged by his own dream seemed to quiet her nerves; so she did not
allude to her dream again for a great while. But I could see plainly
that Peter was very much depressed whenever allusion was made to it. O,
it was prophetic, 'twas a revelation of dire calamities to follow, one
after another.

“I could see it all when time unfolded the mystery, as it did, in
regular order. It was a warning so strangely imparted. But why, why this
warning, and why the calamities? That is the question which has been
demanding an answer so long; and yet no answer comes that seems to
satisfy my mind. Well, well, let that pass for the present.

“The next morning I sent Ham to the farm on horseback to bring some
vegetables. Early in the forenoon we heard a noise as if the running
of a horse down the street, and looking out saw Ham coming under heavy
pressure, with sails spread. I ran out on the porch, and Ham pulled in
opposite the little yard gate. I called to him, and asked what was the
trouble. The old darky was so scared that he stammered and made motions,
but I could get nothing of an intelligent character from him. I made him
dismount, tie up his horse, and come in. By this time the family were
all out inquiring into the trouble. Ham sat down on the edge of the
porch near the entrance and fanned himself with his hat. Great drops
of perspiration were rolling down his face. He seemed to be in much
distress. Finally Jennie said to him:

“'Ham, where is the lettuce, the asparagus, and the butter we sent you
after?'

“Ham, finding by this time that he was not dead, essayed to speak. He
raised himself to his full height.

“'W'y! W'y! Yeas! Yeas! De--de--de--dey done gone!'

“'Gone where?' asked Jennie.

“'Dey done gone on de road, missus. I jes' tell you-uns dey's Sesh in
heah. 'Spec dey got dem, dey eat dem for dey dinner. Dey got dem, sho.'

“'Well, what about the “Sesh,” as you call them?

“'O, I tole you all 'bout dem. 'Pore de Laud, I mus' rest fust. I is
powerful tired, missis--I is.'

“'Well, Ham, put up your horse and get over your fright, and then
perhaps you can explain more satisfactorily what has happened to you.'

“'Yeas, missus, I 'spect dat am de bes' way.'

“So, when Ham had cooled off, we had him give us his experience. He
said:

“'Well, Massa Daniel, I jes' go to de farm and dar seed Massa Joseph
Dent. He fix up de littis, de 'sparagrass, and de eggs; and when dey all
fix up I get ready to come home. He says, “Ham, you see dem fellows down
de road dar?” I looked and seed 'em, and say “Yes, sah.” Den he say,
“Dey bad man's dey is; kase dey's done bin heah all de mornin' lookin'
round like dey wants sumfin, and I watch 'em close; if dey boddersme
dey ketch it, sho;” dat's what he say! I done told Massa Dent dat I not
feared. But dat was a story, kase me was some skea'd. I gits on de hoss
and corned right on jes' like I wa'n't skea'd at all. I rides slow doe,
kase as how I wa'n't sho' 'bout dem mans. So I gits 'bout half way down
the road home, and dem mans--dar war free of dem; dar war free, sho',
dey jes' steps right in de road afore me and de hoss. I say “Good
mornin,” and takes off my hat like a gemman. Dey say “Whar you goin',
nigga?” Den I know'd who dey is. When dey say “nigga,” dat's nuff
for dis child. I know'd dey be “Sesh.” Dat's what “Sesh” all call
us--“niggas.” I tells you, den I's ska'd. One ob dem say, “What you got
dar, nigga?” I say “wegetables for de house.” Ben dey say “Who house?'
I told dem Massa Daniel. Den dey say, “Dat ole Lyon? Dat ole Ablishner?
Dat ole scoun'el what want to whip de Souf? To free de niggas 'mongst
us?” I say, “Don' know 'bout dat. Massa Lyon not say nuffin to me 'bout
dat.” Den dey sajr, “Whar you come from, anyhow?” I tole 'em I comed
from up in de State whar Massa Daniel comed from. Den dey swar dat I a
liar; dat dey know'd Massa Daniel; dat he fetched no niggas hyar from
'Hio. Den when dey say “'Hio,” golly, I be glad; kase I could't smell
out de name afore; forgot him clar, sho'. Den I say I comed from 'Hio
awhile ago, an' stay wid you, kase I know'd you back dar in 'Hio. Den
dey ax me w'at town I comed from. Den dey get me. I skea'd den. One of
dem say, “O, he a d----d fool; he not know nuffin.” I say, “Yes, sah,
sho'; dat's fac. I doesn't know nuffin'bout dem matters what you say.”
 Den dey laff. Yes, sah, dey laff. I start on. Den dey say, “Nigga, stop
dat hoss.” De hoss stop. Yes, sah, den I be orful skea'd. O, dey was de
mos' wostest lookin' disciplinous “Sesh” you eber did see wid yo' eyes.
Dey had ole brown jeans coat an' britches. Dey look like de “Sesh” what
I seed when dey lef Col. Tom at my cabin.'

“'Well, said Peter, 'they were escaped prisoners, I have no doubt, from
some place, and are hunting their way South.'

“'Yes, sah,' said Ham; 'dat's it; dey 'scape and is gwine back to de
reb's army, sho': dat's who dey is. I know'd dey was “Sesh.”'

“'Well, go on, Ham; tell us the rest,' said Aunt Sarah. I was so much
amused at Ham's story that I kept rather quiet.

“'Well,' said Ham, 'den dey took de hoss by de bridle and made me git
off. I s'posed dey was gwine to take de hoss, but dey looked de hoss
ober, and say he no good, and gib de hoss back. I got on and dey all
pull out pistols and tell me to “git;” dat's wa't dey say, and sho' you
bo'n, I git--an' de lettice go one way, de 'sparagrass go anoder way,
and eggs go de Lord knows whar--to smash, I reckon. Dey all gone, sho,'
an' I's hyar. Dey shoot when I go. I 'spect I be kill; but I'm hyar,
sho'; dis is ole Ham; he 'scape.'

[Illustration: Ham Encounters the Rebels 097]

“We all laughed--in fact, could not help it. I told Ham that I would
go out with him the next day and we would see about this matter. Ham
withdrew, scratching his head and looking very serious.

“The next day I had the horses hitched to the wagon, and Peter feeling
that he had so far recovered that he could stand the ride, we went
out together. When we came to the place where Ham had met his three
suspicious looking friends we examined the spot, found Ham's lettuce,
etc., scattered somewhat over the ground, but could not see much
evidence of anything else.

“Ham said but little. Finally, I asked him which direction his friends
had gone from here. He at once pointed the way, saying, 'Doesn't you see
de track? Dar he go, Turn 'roun' and go back de same way he come.'

“We could see some indications that Ham's story might be true, but not
enough to be very satisfactory. However, we went along. When we arrived
at the farm and found Joseph Dent we had Ham relate his experience.
Joseph Dent said to come in the house. When we had all been seated,
Joseph said:

“'Well, I have no doubt as to the truth of what Ham says. The same three
men (at least, I suppose them to be, from the description), came here
last night and forced me to let them stay in the house. I was not very
fearful of their doing me any harm, as I was watchful. My partner and
myself could have handled them if they had made any demonstration. We
gave them their suppers and a mug of ale and got them going, and
found that they were escaped rebels, who had been in prison camp
at Indianapolis. They told us that there was a plot to let all the
prisoners loose and to raise an army out of their friends North to
commence war here, and in that way to have the rebellion succeed.'

“Peter inquired how they came to tell so much about their plans.

“Joseph answered that he and his partner pretended to them that they
were in full sympathy with the rebellion, and were staying here only to
have the influence of Col. David to keep them out of the Union army, and
that if compelled at any time to join either army they would join the
rebels.

“'Where have they gone?' inquired Peter.

“'They have gone into the country some twenty miles, to Collins Grove.
There is to be a political meeting there to-morrow, and they expect, as
they told us, that Thomas A. Strider, of Indianapolis, and Dan Bowen,
also of Indiana, were to be there, and through one of them they thought
they could obtain aid; that while in prison they had been initiated
into a society called the “Knights of the Golden Circle,” which was
a secession organization, intended as an auxiliary force to the
rebel army; that Dan Bowen was one of their main men, and so called
“Agitator”; that Thomas A. Strider was Chief Counselor to the
organization in Indiana; was to be in Washington most of the time to
“watch things” and to defend them at all times when any of their order
should be arrested or in any danger.'

“Peter and I went out to the barn and talked the matter over, and
thought that in such a case as this we would be justified in resorting
to any means or strategy to discover this secret organization and
ascertain the designs of its members. We concluded to get Joseph Dent,
who was an old soldier, and very bright, with an excellent memory, to
join it and find out all that he could about the organization. Agreeing
to this, Peter hobbled back on his crutches. He being a soldier made the
proposition to Dent, which he readily acceded to, saying:

“'I had thought of that myself, but feared that you might take me to be
too intimate with these people. I call them Secessionists and rebels. I
think, that if you agree, I will go down to this meeting to-morrow, and
when I come back will come to Allentown, as they might keep a watch on
me here.'

“With this understanding we returned, instructing Joseph Dent to stay as
long as might become necessary, in order to learn all that he could as
to the design of these people. After getting our supplies in the wagon
we returned home. On arriving we found all feeling very joyful over the
fact that Col. Anderson would be home in the course of a week. He had
so written to me. Aunt Sarah had opened and read the letter. Little
Mary was so delighted that she ran out and tried to tell us all that her
father had written. She would talk and stammer and draw a long breath,
and then commence again, and repeat until I had to tell her to rest
and begin slowly. When we got in we heard all. The two children were
delighted at the prospect of seeing Aunt Martha almost as much as seeing
the Colonel and his brave wife. Peter and I had to keep quiet about our
program with Joseph Dent, and therefore discussed other matters. During
the evening Peter concluded that he would not attempt returning to his
regiment until Col. Tom should arrive, so that he could arrange about
the command and take some word back to Col. Rice. (I said not one word
about Tom's commission as Brigadier, but continued the suggestion that
Col. Rice could not think of doing otherwise than turning over the
command to Col. Anderson.) Just then the post-boy came again with a
letter. I opened it and found it to be from my son Jackson, at St. Paul,
Minn., (where he resided and was engaged in railroad building,) stating
that he considered it his duty to enter the service of his country.
Being young and healthy, he said, no patriot in this crisis, blessed
with good health, could afford to remain out of the army; that the day
would come when the question would be asked of all such persons, 'Why
did you not go to the war and fight for your country?' Poor boy, if he
were living now he would ask himself the queston: 'Why did I go; for
what did I peril my life?' Yes! yes!

“Well, I kept this from my wife, Aunt Sarah, for the time. She was so
worried about our family that I thought best to wait for a day or so,
inasmuch as she did not see me get the letter. A couple of days passed
and Joseph Dent came to our house. After seeing and speaking to Jennie
about the farm and her interest generally, and telling Aunt Sarah about
Ham's scare and joking him somewhat, he spoke to Peter and myself, and
said that he wanted to see us alone.

“We all went out to the barn, and there he told us all that he had heard
and seen--that he had gone to Collins' Grove; that there was a large
political meeting there; that Dan Bowen spoke in the most excited manner
of the wrongs and outrages, as he termed them, of the vile abolition
adminstration; that the Union soldiers were mere hirelings; that he
hoped none of his party would join the Abolition army to assist in
robbing and murdering our brethren down South. (Dent had noted these
sayings in his memorandum; he was a man of fair education and a close
observer.) Bowen was vociferously applauded during his remarks. Thos. A.
Strider spoke also; but he was not so vehement and abusive as Bowen, but
was equally strong against the war for the Union. Strider spoke of it
as an unholy war on our part, and all the acts of Congress and the
President being 'unauthorized and unconstitutional,' and that the
war would be a failure and ought to be; that he would not see money
appropriated, if in his power to prevent, to carry it on; that if the
Government undertook to draft his friends in Indiana as soldiers,
he would defend any of them (free of charge) that resisted such an
unconstitutional proceeding. He continued in this vein for an hour.
These utterances were loudly applauded by the majority of the audience.
But, continuing, he stated that on that day he came across the three
escaped prisoners heretofore mentioned, and staid with them during the
speeches and agreed to all that was said, so as to satisfy them of his
strict adherence to their principles.

“They said to him that if he would remain that night they would initiate
him into their mysterious organization. He acceded to their proposition
without hesitation, and remained--not leaving them for an instant. In
the evening, shortly after dark, they were all conducted to a large
empty barn near by, and on entering it Dent found Thos. A. Strider
presiding, and Bowen lecturing on the designs and purposes of the
Knights of the Golden Circle.

“After he had explained the objects of the organization, an obligation
was administered to all who had not before been admitted and obligated.
Dent, being one who had not before joined, with others took the
obligation, and was then instructed in the signs, grips and passwords.
He said that he played it pretty well, so that he was thoroughly
instructed, and kept repeating them to himself, so that he might not
forget any part. The obligation pledged them to use all possible means
in their power to aid the rebels to gain their independence; to aid and
assist prisoners to escape; to vote for no one for office who was not
opposed to the further prosecution of the war, to encourage desertions
from the Union army; to protect the rebels in all things necessary to
carry out their designs, even to the burning and destroying of towns and
cities, if necessary, in order to produce the desired result. They were
also directed to give information at all times of any knowledge they
might have of the movements of our armies, and of the coming of soldiers
to their homes; to use their influence to prevent their return to the
army. They were not even to disclose the murder of any returned soldier
or Union man, if done by any one belonging to this organization. They
were told in the instructions that men were sent into our prisons to
obligate and instruct all prisoners, so that they could make themselves
known in traveling, should they escape; also, that the organization
extended into Canada, as well as every State in the North; that men
in our army belonged to it, who would retreat in battle, or surrender
whenever they could do so; they could always make themselves known to
the rebel commanders; that the members were in every way possible
to foment jealousies and ill-feeling between the Eastern and Western
troops, and especially between the commanding Generals of the two
sections; they were to encourage the Western volunteers not to allow
themselves to be commanded by Eastern officers, and especially were
they to tickle the fancy and pride of the Eastern officers and men, by
encouraging them not to allow themselves to be subjected to the control
of the uneducated men of the West--in short, every kind and character
of argument was to be resorted to. In the event of failure, any other
means, no matter what, was to be employed to cause failure on our part
and success on theirs.

[Illustration: Knights of the Golden Circle meeting in a barn 103]

“Peter wrote down every word told us by Dent, being very careful about
the signs and passwords. This being done, we cautioned-Dent to be
extremely careful in his conversations with others, and never to speak
of this organization to any one, for fear that he might get into trouble
or suffer in some way from its members. Dent bade us good day and
left for home. We returned to the house and there read over Peter's
memorandum carefully, and studied the signs and passwords so as to fully
comprehend them. This, to us, was a serious question. Peter felt as
though there was much in this to cause our country great trouble in
addition to what was already upon us. I said to Peter that I would at
once write to the President and send him all the statements as they were
made to us by Dent, as well as suggest to him the necessity of having
this conspiracy (as it was nothing less) ferreted out at once, which I
did that day, and also suggested the arrest and trial of all that could
be found who were engaged in getting up these organizations. I soon
received a letter, not from the President, but from another, which
satisfied me that my letter had been received by the one for whom it was
intended.

“Very soon the whisperings and newspaper gossip showed plainly that
there were jealousies in the Army of the East as well as in the Army
of the Center. Officers were complaining of each other, and some were
charging ill-treatment on the part of the Administration, showing
clearly that there were influences silently at work. About this time I
received a note from Washington requesting me to come to that city. I
prepared for the trip. Bidding good-by to our family, and requesting
Peter not to leave until I should return, I was off, no one but Peter
and my wife holding the secret of my leaving home at this time. When I
arrived at Washington I proceeded to the Executive Mansion, sent in my
name, and was at once admitted. The President met me most cordially, and
asked me to be seated. He wrote a note and sent it out by a messenger,
then turned to me and entered into conversation about the health of our
people, the crops of the country, and the sentiments I found generally
held among the people of the West in reference to the war. I said to him
that among the Union people there was but one sentiment, and that was
that the last man and last dollar must be exhausted, if necessary, to
put down the rebellion. He grasped me by the hand warmly and said:

“'Lyon, my good friend, I am exceedingly glad to know that. I have been
hearing curious stories about your part of Indiana. The Governor of your
State seems to fear trouble from some cause.'

“'My dear Mr. President,' I said, 'do not misunderstand me. I do not
mean to say our people are united; it is only the Union people I had
reference to. There is a strong party in the State who are utterly
opposed to the prosecution of the war, and they are led on by very
strong and influential men.'

“'Yes,' said the President, 'this man Strider is at the head of that
party. He is a smooth-talking fellow--rather an “Oily Gammon,” very
shrewd, and hard to catch at any open or overt act. He has a way
of setting others on and keeping out himself. At least, I should so
conclude from what I have seen and know of him.'

“'Yes, Mr. President, you have estimated the man correctly,' was my
reply.

“'Just at this point in the conversation, the Secretary of War came in.
The President was going to introduce me.

“'No introduction is necessary, Mr. President,' said the Secretary;
'this is one of my old neighbors and friends.'

“'Our meeting was full of warmth and friendly greetings, having been
friends for many years in Ohio prior to my leaving the State. We were
all seated, and after some general conversation between the Secretary
and myself, the President remarked that he had sent for me, and on my
presenting myself he had sent for the Secretary of War for the purpose
of having a full conference in reference to the situation in the rear of
the army out West, and that from my letter to him he did not know of any
one who could give him that information better than myself.

“'By the way,' said he, 'what about your nephew, Anderson? He must be
a glorious fellow and a good soldier. Of course, you have received the
commission that the Secretary and I sent you for him?'

“'Yes I thanks to you, Mr. President. He is improving very fast. His
wound will soon be well, and he will then be ready for the field again.'

“'Tell him,' said the President, 'that I will watch his career with
great interest. Coming from where he does, he must have good metal in
him to face his friends and relatives in taking the stand he has.'

“'Yes, sir,' said I; 'he is a true man, and his wife, though a Southern
woman, is one of the noblest of her sex, and as true a patriot as ever
lived.'

“'Your family are nearly all soldiers, I believe, Mr. Lyon,' said the
Secretary.

“'Yes, Mr. Secretary; I had seven sons--five are in the army, one was
killed at the battle of the Gaps, and the seventh is on his way from St.
Paul to join it. God knows I have some interest in our success, and I
will go myself at any time should it be necessary.'

“'The President here interrupted:

“'No, Mr. Lyon, you must not. You have done enough. If this Government
cannot be saved without the eighth one of your family putting his
life in peril at your age, it cannot be saved. We will accept no more
recruits from the Lyon family.'

“'The President then asked me to give to the Secretary and himself the
situation in the West as nearly as I could, and especially in Indiana.

“I proceeded to state the situation--the bitterness of the opposition to
the Administration, as well as to the war, then being manifested by
the anti-war party, or, in other words, by the Democratic party as an
organization; the organized lodges of the Golden Circle, their objects
and designs, the influence they were to bring to bear, how they were
to operate and in what directions, the jealousies they were to engender
between the officers of the East and the West; the fact that they were
to release prisoners and to destroy towns and cities in the North,
should it become necessary.

“The President and Secretary both listened with grave attention, and
seemed to fully comprehend the situation.

“The President finally said:

“'Mr. Secretary, this is a very serious matter, and is becoming more so
every day.'

“'Yes,' replied the Secretary; 'you know, Mr. President, that we have
talked this over heretofore, but this revelation seems startling. I can
begin to see where the influence partly comes from which gives us so
much trouble with some of the officers of the Eastern army. At first I
was induced to believe that they were jealous of each other, but I am
beginning to think it comes from political influences in opposition
to the Administration, having a desire to change the policy of the
Government in reference to the war. Several of the senior officers in
different commands act as though they thought more of promotion and
being assigned to large commands than the success of our cause. They
will not serve under any but their own selection of commanders--at
least, make opposition to doing so. There seems to be a little coterie
who think no one is suitable to command except themselves. They have not
been very successful so far, and act as though they were determined
that no one else should be. We have relieved their chief and brought a
new man to the field, and I do believe that some of these men will
not give him a cordial support. We must wait, quietly, however, for
developments. One thing is strange to me, and that is that I find these
complaining gentlemen all have been and now are in sympathy with the
party which is found in a great degree opposing the war. I do not mean
by this to impeach their patriotism, but to suggest that the influences
which operate upon them and flatter their vanity by suggestions of
presidency, cabinets, head of the army, future power, greatness,
etc., are not coming from the people or party in full accord with the
Administration and in favor of such a prosecution of the war as will
insure ultimate success.'

“'Well,' said the President, 'we are in their power at the present, and
their demands upon the Administration are of a character to induce the
belief that they are preparing the road to an ultimate recognition of
the so-called Confederacy; but, gentlemen, they will not succeed.' (This
he said with much warmth.) 'I will not let them succeed. The Lord, in
his own good time, will raise up and develop some man of great genius as
a commander, and I am now patiently waiting for that time. I cannot put
these men aside now. The country would sympathize with them and feel
that I do not know as much about war as they do; but they will tell the
tale on themselves very soon, and then we will be completely justified
in getting rid of them. This war must go on for some time yet if the
Union is to be restored, and I have faith that it will be; but I am just
now bothered more about the condition in the rear than in the front;
that will come out all right in time. But if these Golden Circle
organizations spread, as they seem to be doing, in the West, where a
great portion of our troops must come from, and the people should once
get the idea fixed in their minds that the war must be a failure, and a
fire in the rear is started of great proportions, then what? Then will
come the serious question. And should the people pronounce at the next
election against a further prosecution of the war, there will be a
secret understanding with those who come into power that the so-called
Confederacy is to be recognized, and that will be the end.'

“'But, Mr. President, do you look for such a result?' I asked.

“'No, sir,' responded the President; 'I was only putting the worst side
of the case--just as I would look at the worst side of a client's case
in court. The people of this country love this republic too well to see
it go down marred and destroyed merely for the purpose of upholding the
crime and infamy of slavery. No, gentlemen, this Union will be restored.
All the rebels of the South, and all the sympathizers and Golden Circles
of the North cannot destroy it so long as there is one patriot left
qualified to lead an army. They will have to burn every city and
assassinate every leading man who is able to be a leader before our flag
will go down in gloom and disgrace. This they may try. God only knows
what desperate men will do to uphold an unholy cause.'”

“How prophetic this thought was,” said Dr. Adams.

“Yes, it was really so. The very things mentioned were attempted, and
an organization completed for the purpose. They accomplished a part
of their hellish design, but they did not succeed to the extent
contemplated.

“But to return to the conversation with the President and Secretary:

“The President then asked me if I would, in my own way, further ferret
out what was being done by this organization in the West and post him by
reports in writing as often as I could conveniently do so.

“I responded that I could not go into the lodges myself, but I would, in
every way that I could consistently, through others, obtain information
and send him.

“'This,' he said, 'was all that he could ask me to do, situated as I
was.'

“This being all that was desired, the Secretary of War made out a pass
authorizing me to enter any and all of our lines or camps of prisoners,
to visit any and all hospitals--in fact, to go to and pass through all
places under military control in the United States. With this pass in my
pocket I bade good-by to the President and Secretary and left for home.

“When I returned I found that Col. Tom Anderson, his wife, and old
Aunt Martha had arrived. The family had a joyful meeting and had become
settled down. All were glad to see me. Col. Tom, his wife, and Aunt
Martha had many pleasant things to relate--how Tom recovered so rapidly;
how kind Col. Harden had been; what a good man Surg. Long was; how a
band of rebels came down the river to old George's farm, where Tom
had been so long; how they were surprised and captured by one of Col.
Harden's reconnoitering parties, and that they said they were sent to
take Mr. George's property away and to bring with them old Ham and Aunt
Martha.

“Old Ham, being present, broke out in one of his characteristic laughs.

“'Ah! He-ogh. Fo' de good Laud, dat's de time dey miss der cotch. Dis
darky was done gone when dey comed. I know'd dey'd be dar sometime for
dis cat, and Marfa, too. I tells you, dey want her, dey do. She know how
to cook and do things, she do. Be a cole day when dey gits dis cat agin,
sho's you born'd.'

“Aunt Martha came in and said to Ham:

“'What you doin' heah, Ham?'

“'I's sympensizen wid dem “Sesh” what comed down to ole Massa George's
place back yonder for to fotch me and you back to de Missip. De cat done
gone. He-ah! he-ah!'

“'Yes; but you ole fool, dey'd got you if it had not bin for me. I beg
you afore you goes to go wid Massa Daniel, you knows I did.'

“'Yes, Marfa, dat's so. I tole dem all de time dat you knows de bes'.
Don't I, Massa Daniel?'

“'Oh, yes, Ham,' I said. 'You always speak well of Martha, and what she
knows.'

“'Deed I do, Marfa; dat's so; I does, all de time.'

“'Dat's all right den, Ham. I forgib you all what you do, so you jes'
git out in de kitchen; dar's whar you blong. Dese folks spile you ef dey
don't mind deyselves.

“The family, or a considerable portion of them, again being together, we
naturally drifted in our conversation as to the war, it being uppermost
in everybody's mind at that time; so I found an opportunity to tell Col.
Anderson and Peter all about my trip, what had occurred, and what I had
promised to do. Peter said that I would have to be very cautious, and
that the first thing was to understand whether or not the Postmaster
here could be trusted. Should he allow it to be known that I was
frequently communicating with the President, the enemies at Allentown
would manage in some way to discover my communications, and thereby my
life would be in danger.

“I knew the Postmaster, however, and that he could be trusted; so that
part of the matter was settled.

“Colonel Anderson suggested that there should be no haste in settling
the arrangements; that it was of such importance that a little
reflection would do no harm; so we laid the matter over for the
present.”

“Uncle Daniel,” said Col. Bush, “we who were in the army felt the
influence of the Knights of the Golden Circle. There was one time during
the war when we would have hundreds of desertions in a night; nor could
we stop it for a considerable length of time. We finally discovered
that the people opposed to the war were engaged in every possible way
in influencing the relatives of the soldiers. They would sometimes get
their wives to write about their sufferings, sickness in their families,
and in every way that it could be done they were rendered dissatisfied.”

“Yes,” said Maj. Clymer, “that is true in every respect. Part of my
command deserted, and I have found since the war that they were induced
to do so by these very influences.”

“The situation at that time was very critical,” said Dr. Adams. “I
remember well when mobs were organized and when soldiers were shot down
on the road in this vicinity while returning to their commands after
being home on a leave of absence.

“O, yes, those were perilous times for all who were in favor of their
country's success. Returning, however, to family matters:

“On the morning of the next day, after Peter, Col. Anderson and myself
had talked over the matter of my Washington trip, and sat down to
breakfast, Col. Anderson found a paper under his plate. All eyes were
upon him, and he turned his upon the paper. He read it, and looked at
me as though he understood it all, yet it was evidently a very happy
surprise; he said not one word, but handed it to his wife, supposing
that the rest knew of it. She jumped up from the table and threw her
arms around my neck and wept for joy. This procedure seemed to puzzle
the rest of the family, as they were totally ignorant of the contents of
the paper.

“'Mother,' exclaimed Peter, 'what is all this?'

“Col. Anderson said: 'Aunt, do you not know what it is?'

“'No, indeed,' she replied.

“I then revealed the secret of my keeping the fact quiet about Tom
having been commissioned as a Brigadier-General

“Peter at once said: 'Well, that settles the question in our regiment;
and I am truly glad, for two reasons: first, that Col. Anderson has been
promoted, and, second, that it leaves our regiment intact.'

“All congratulated the Colonel and were happy over it. Old Aunt Martha
who was waiting on the table that morning shouted out 'Glory! Dat's jes'
what I sed; dat de good Laud was gwine to keep Massa Tom for some big
thing, so he do good. I know'd it.'

“We all felt that it was due him and all were glad. Upon looking up I
discerned tears in Jennie's eyes, I knew in a moment her thoughts, but
said not a word. Her darling child, Sarah, had died, and of course
she was sensitive and easily touched. After breakfast I took the first
opportunity to say to her: 'My dear child, don't feel badly; your
husband's promotion will come very soon.'

“This seemed to cheer her up, and all went on well and pleasantly. No
one seemed to understand Jennie's tears but myself, and I was very
quiet on the subject. Sure enough, the very next day she got a letter
from David, telling her that he had been promoted and assigned to the
command of a brigade. This made us all doubly happy, and caused us to
forget our grief for a time. The two children did not quite understand
all this. But Aunt Martha, to whom the children had become quite
devoted, was in her very peculiar way explaining it all to the children,
and yet she knew but little more about it than they did, and between her
explanations and their understanding of it, made it very amusing indeed.

“Two days afterwards Peter left for his command, which was still
encamped on the battle-field of Pittskill Landing. He felt as though he
could do camp duty if no more. He wore the same sad countenance that had
become fastened upon him since he had been pondering over his mother's
dream.

“Col. Anderson was still very weak, but was nervous about the future
and extremely anxious to recover sufficiently to take the field. His
bloodless face and trembling motion showed that he couldn't perform
field duty for some time to come. He made a request, however, for
the detail of Capt. Day, of Col. Harden's regiment, as one of his
aides-de-camp. The order for the detail, in accordance with his wishes,
he soon received, but delayed sending it forward, leaving Capt. Day with
Col. Harden until such time as he should be able to be assigned to duty.
In talking over with Gen. Anderson the situation and the mission I had
to perform, we concluded, inasmuch as he was only slightly known through
the West, that he could travel through Ohio, Indiana and Illinois on a
prospecting tour and be less liable to suspicion than myself, known as I
was in many parts of the country, and that the journey was just what he
needed to give him strength.

“Preparatory to his undertaking the expedition we thought proper to
visit Joseph Dent on the farm, and have the General more fully posted
in the mysteries of the Golden Circle. We at once repaired to the farm.
While there Dent instructed him thoroughly, he having it at his
tongue's end, as he had been meeting with the Circle frequently in
the neighborhood, under the advice of Peter and myself. Gen. Anderson
carefully wrote down everything in his pocket memorandum book, and after
frequently going over the signs, manipulations, passwords, etc., with
Dent, we left for home. All the preliminaries were then arranged,
so that the General was to start as soon as he considered himself
sufficiently strong to undergo the fatigues of the journey.

“Late in the evening the form of a tall, well-proportioned man appeared
at the door and rapped. I said 'Come.' He entered, saying, 'Father, how
are you?' I saw it was my son Jackson, from St. Paul, Minn. After hearty
greetings, I introduced him to Gen. Anderson and wife. Aunt Sarah
soon entered the room, and the meeting between mother and son was most
touching. In the conversation that ensued Jackson soon disclosed the
fact that he was on his way to join the army somewhere, not entirely
defined in his own mind; but came by to pay a visit to us first.

“Gen. Anderson seemed at once to take a fancy to Jack son, and proposed
that he make application for a Captaincy in the Regular Army and be
assigned to him as one of his staff officers. This was readily acceded
to by my son. The papers were made out, and Jackson started for
Washington the next morning to make the request of the President, the
understanding being that he was to return to my house and await
the future movements of Gen. Anderson. His mother, hearing of this
arrangement, was better satisfied with it than she would have been if
he had started out in some regiment; but she wept bitter tears at the
thought of all her sons endangering their lives.

“She said to me:

“'Daniel, if our whole family, or a greater part of them should be lost,
who will remember it to our honor, and where will sympathy for us come
from? You know the youth who fired the Ephesian Dome is remembered,
while the builder is forgotten.'

“These words of my good wife are constantly ringing in my ears. How
true! how true!”




CHAPTER VII.

     TRAITOR KNIGHTS--ORGANIZATION OF REBEL SYMPATHIZERS IN
     INDIANA AND ILLINOIS--SIGNS AND SECRETS--GEN. ANDERSON'S
     TOUR OF INVESTIGATION --THE GOLDEN CIRCLE.

     “O, Conspiracy, shame'st
     Thou to show thy dangerous brow by night,
     When folks are most free?  O then, by day,
     Where will thou find a cavern dark enough
     To mask thy monstrous visage?
     Seek none, conspiracy.”
      --Shakespeare

“Several days elapsed before Gen. Anderson felt that he could undertake
the journey contemplated. Finally he concluded that he would make the
effort. He thought it best for him to pass into Illinois first, as he
would not be known in that State. After arranging his matters and
leaving word for Jackson to remain at my house, (on his return from
Washington, should he succeed in obtaining the desired appointment,)
until he returned from his tour of investigation, he started.

“The first stopping place of the General was at Colestown, in Charles
County. There he remained several days, and found the most bitter
feeling existing between the political parties. He passed very easily
among the anti-war people for a Southerner and rebel. He made the
acquaintance of one Maj. Cornell, who was home on leave of absence. The
General, finding him a very intelligent and apparently an honorable,
high-minded gentleman, explained to him that he was not a rebel, but on
a mission for the Government. This made him all right with the loyal
element, that could be privately communicated with and trusted.

“He had noticed a gentleman, rather fine-looking, with the movements and
general appearance of a Southerner. He managed to get a good look in his
face, and recognized him as Mr. Jas. Walters, of Arkansas. He spoke to
him. The recognition was mutual; the General invited him to his room,
and there the knowledge of the Golden Circle was at once manifested.
Neither disclosed at first anything about himself, but finally the
General told Walters that he was up here North for his health, and
to spy out the situation and report the same. They soon became very
confidential, and Walters unbosomed himself to the General. He told him
that he was traveling under the guise of a real-estate agent, selecting
land for some large and wealthy firm, but in reality he was organizing
the Knights of the Golden Circle; that he had organized, some ten miles
southeast of the town, a lodge of sixty members. He gave all the names.
In Colestown he had another lodge, seventy strong, with Col. O. B.
Dickens as Chief of the Order for that Congressional district.

“During that evening he showed the General his lists and gave him the
names of men to go to in Vernon County, Jeffersonville, Fayetteville,
Franklin, Perryville, Fultonville and many other places in the state.

“Chicago being the main headquarters, he directed him (if he should go
there) to Morrison Buckner, John Walls, N. Judy Cornington, C. H. Eagle,
and many other prominent men who belonged to the organization and were
in direct communication with Windsor, Canada, where a portion of the
main directors and managers were stationed, and from whence they were
sending out organizers for the West. Walters told him that Indianapolis,
Ind., was one of the 'Head Centers,' and that Dodgers, Bowlens,
Millington, Dorsing and Byron were the Chiefs, with several so-called
Agitators, and that Mr. Strider was Supreme Counsel; that the
organization was spreading rapidly; that in Ohio, at Dayburg, was the
Head Center; that along the great river there were very many lodges and
quite a number of members, but that it had not been so long at work in
Ohio as in Illinois and Indiana. Also, that the Supreme Commander lived
in Dayburg, O.; his name was given as Valamburg; that in Kentucky and
Missouri nearly all the people were joining the order and sending men
as fast as they could to the rebel army, and at the proper time,
when things were ripe for the people to rise, one of the most popular
officers in the rebel army, who lived in Missouri, would be sent there
with enough troops to protect himself until the Knights could join him.

“He went on to say that Col. Burnett, of St. Louis, was Supreme
Commander for Missouri, and Marmalade was Chief Agitator; John Morganson
was Supreme Commander in Kentucky; that he was gathering men from there
all the time; that he was not only Supreme Commander of Kentucky, but
appointed to make excursions and raids into Ohio and Indiana, whenever
the organization should be considered strong enough to protect him.
This, he said, was considered one of the measures to be resorted to in
order to frighten the property-holders of the North, and thereby drive
them into a peace-policy; that if the North could be once thoroughly
alarmed about the safety of their property, the anti-war party would
then carry an election, and that would secure the recognition of the
Southern Confederacy; that a perfect understanding of this kind existed
with the leaders of the Confederacy and the leaders of the anti-war
party North. He told the General that this organization was first
started in New York city by a man by the name of McMasterson and some
gentlemen from Richmond, who had passed through the lines and gone there
for this purpose; that there were at that time 100,000 Knights in the
State of New York; 80,000 in Ohio; 75,000 in Indiana, and 50,000 in
Illinois.

“He said it was thought that it would require about one year yet to get
the organization perfected and in good working order; that they had to
work very cautiously, and would have considerable trouble getting the
right kind of arms into their hands. There was no trouble, he said, in
having them all armed with pistols; 'for,' said Walters, 'these Yankees
are so fond of money that you can buy arms anywhere, if on hand. You can
get them made at some of the private arsenals, if you could assure them
against discovery. The intention, however, is to get all things ready by
the time of the next Presidential election, and if we do not whip them
before that time we will resort to such methods as will insure the
election of one of our friends, or one who believes that we can never be
subjugated.'

[Illustration: Drinking to the success of Treason 118]

“The General responded to what he had said, and remarked that it
did seem that if those plans could be carried out that success must
certainly follow.

“'Yes,' said Walters; 'we must not and cannot fail. I tell you,
when these money-loving Yanks see their towns and cities threatened,
prisoners turned loose, maddened by confinement, and commence applying
the torch, you will hear peace! peace! for God's sake, give us peace!
This will be the cry, sir! Mind what I say!'

“Col. Walters by this time had disclosed the fact that he was a colonel
in the rebel army; he had pulled at his flask frequently, and was
growing quite eloquent. Gen. Anderson could not drink, and his looks
gave him a good excuse for not doing so. Finally Walters said:

“'Anderson, how did you get here, anyhow? The last time I saw you was at
Vicksburg, four years ago, attending court.'

“'Well,' said the General, 'I might have asked you the same question.'

“'Now, don't play Yankee on me in answering my question by asking me
another.'

“'Well, said the General, 'I was in Kentucky, and when I crossed the
river no one asked me any questions. I looked so ill and emaciated that
they thought I told them the truth when I said I wanted a change of
climate--and then, I am also playing the Union role, you know.'

“'Is it not very curious,' said Walters; 'I have traveled all over this
country, and no one has asked me a question as to where I came from or
what I am doing. In our country we would both have been in prison or
hung before this as spies. Don't you think so?'

“'We would have been in great danger,' said the General

“'Danger! Thunder!' said Walters; 'we would have pulled hemp before
this.'

“It was then getting quite late, and the General began to excuse himself
on account of his health, and they finally spoke of meeting again
sometime, and bade each other good night. The General retired after
arranging to leave on the train in the morning for Chicago. Leaving
Coles-town at an early hour, he arrived in Chicago that evening and
put up at the Richmond House. In the course of the next day, by proper
management, he got acquainted with Walls, Morrison Buckner and Mr.
Eagle. This hotel seemed to be the common meeting-place for this class
of men. The subject of the war was discussed very freely by all of
them. They seemed to be very much exasperated about the course of the
Administration, denouncing its acts as revolutionary, arbitrary and
unconstitutional. Eagle seemed to be rather a good-natured fellow--dealt
measurably in jokes, as I took it. He said that he did not owe
allegiance to any country, as he understood it; that his father was
French, his mother was German, and he was born on English waters under
the Italian flag; and that he should claim protection from all until his
nativity could be settled.

“The General said he rather took a liking to him. He finally explained
to the General, however, that he was from the South, but left there
because his health was not good enough to go into the Confederate
army, and he knew if he staid he would have been compelled to do so. In
Chicago there was no danger of having to go into either army; that a
man could stay and help the rebels more than if he we were South, and if
they wanted him in the army he could hire some fool to go and get shot
in his place for a hundred dollars. He said that there was another
advantage--that the people went so fast that they forgot which side you
were on in a month, and that you did not have to live there always to
become a citizen. You could go to Congress after you had been there a
week, if you only knew how to handle the 'boys.'

“'The General said that he was really amused at the fellow, but very
soon the Grand Head Center of the State came in and he was introduced to
Mr. N. Judy Cornington.

“'The General gave him the sign, which was at once recognized, and the
wink went round that the General was a brother. They conversed freely
about the condition of the country; the ultimate result of the war;
what must be done to bring about peace; how the Administration must be
changed and peaceful commercial relations established with the South,
and the Southern Confederacy recognized. To all this the General
responded:

“'Yes; but suppose these things that you mention do not bring about the
result. What then?'

“'What then?' you ask, 'We will then resort to any and every means, no
matter what, for success. We are now in the same condition as the rebels
South. Should they fail we will have to go South, or forever be under
the ban of treason. You do not suppose that these people who support the
Union will ever trust any of us or any of our party again, should our
friends South fail, do you?'

“'Well, what of it?' asked Mr. Buckner. 'I do not now, nor do I expect
hereafter to ask these people for anything. I am actuated by principle
purely, without reference to the future. Let the future take care of
itself.'

“'Yes, that is well enough, Mr. Buckner,' said Corning-ton, 'as a
sentiment just now; but some day we will feel differently, and our
people, who are now taking desperate chances, will want to have
something to say. You do not suppose that all these brave men who are
now in the rebel army, and their friends North, are going to allow these
Abolitionists to run this Government, even if we should not succeed.'

“'Do you think that these people North will care (after this thing is
over) anything about who shall be in power,' said Mr. Eagle. 'I tell
you, Mr. Cornington, that they will soon forget all about it. You show
them where the least taxes are and the most money to be made, and they
will throw patriotism to the dogs. Why, if the rebellion fails, I expect
to see Jeff. Davis' Cabinet, or part of them, running this Government,
with him behind them directing things. Yes, sir; no matter what occurs,
we only have to let these people go on making money, and we will look
after the politics. They will not take time to do it.'

“'Why, gentlemen, I expect to run the politics of this State yet. I
intend to make money now, and when the thing blows over I will then have
leisure. I do not care for the amount of money these Northern men want.
When we Southern men get enough to have a small income to live on, we
turn our attention to politics; and there is no trouble to run things if
you only attend to it. These rich fellows think all you have to do is to
have plenty of money, and if you want anything done in politics, buy
it. There is where they make their great mistake. You must work the
boys--give them a show along with you. The people all have their
ambitions--some great, some not so great, but all want a show. There are
some men here in this city who think they can buy the whole State. But
they are mistaken; when they try it they will discover their error. They
will find the fellows that play politics play the game well,' and so
rattled on this man Eagle. The General said that when he got started he
was like a wound-up clock--you either had to let it run down or smash
it.

“'Well,' said Cornington, 'Eagle, you seem to take rather a rosy view of
things. I do not look at matters quite in the same light that you do. I
want to see success assured; then matters may assume the shape you say.
But I fear if we fail the result will be otherwise.'

“Said Eagle: 'I tell you, sir, that no matter what happens, the brains
and courage and aggressiveness of the Southern people will control this
country, Union or no Union, and you will see it yet, if we live. But
that belief must not prevent us from doing our duty manfully. We must
hang together and terrify the Northern people.'

“'Yes,' said Cornington, 'as was said by one of our fathers in the
Revolution, “we must hang together, or we will hang separately.”' This
caused Eagle to laugh.

“'Oh I' said he, 'those old fellows were frightened into success, and
you must know that to alarm the North about their money and property
being in danger is the only road to success. You can't scare them about
their lives. Our people are mistaken on that point. They care much less
for their lives than for their “oil.”'

“The General, after getting all the information he could as to
the extent of the organization, their designs and intended future
operations, which corresponded with what he had learned from Walters,
promised to see them again, and left that night for Dayburg, Ohio.
On arriving there he tried every way to obtain an interview with the
Supreme Commander of the Golden Circle of the United States, but
in vain. His attempts were all thwarted in one way or another.
The Commander (Valamburg) must have had some fears in reference to
strangers.

“For three days the General tried to get a chance to see him, but
could not. He met, however, three men,--Pat Burke, Tim Collins and John
Stetson,--with whom he formed a slight acquaintance, and, on giving them
the signs and passwords of the Circle, was taken into their confidence.
They took him riding into the country and showed him several large barns
where they were in the habit of holding their meetings, and gave
him full information as to their prospects in reference to future
operations. The three men were Agitators or, in other words, Organizers.

“John Stetson had been in Dayburg about three months; was a Colonel
in the rebel army; had been a prisoner at Camp Chase, but in some
mysterious way was permitted to escape by putting on different clothes
from his own, which in some manner were smuggled in to him. He had
shaven off his whiskers and made a close crop of his hair, and was so
changed in his appearance that no one would have suspected that he was
the same man. He was known in prison, and so entered on the records,
as Col. Jacob Reed, 13th Ky. (Confederate) infantry. This man Stetson,
alias 'Reed,' was very communicative; told the General that if they did
not succeed in working up sufficient feeling in the Northern States to
change the course of the Administration that they would have to
resort to other and more severe methods--such as raiding in the North,
destroying property, burning cities, etc.; that the Confederacy must
be successful; that they were now in for it, and there must be no
faltering; that there must be no sickly sentiment about the means to
be adopted hereafter; that fire and flood and desolation were perfectly
legitimate if necessity should ever demand the use of different means
from the present. He said that they could raid from Kentucky and
Missouri; that New York, Cleveland, Cincinnati and Chicago had been
agreed upon as the cities for destruction, if the time should ever
come for such action; that their friends in those cities could make
themselves whole from the wreck--at least, all that they particularly
cared for; so far as the property-holders who pretended to be their
friends were concerned, they did not care for them,--that they would not
help them any, and only wanted to fill their pockets out of the general
misfortunes of the Southern people.

“After the General had traveled around considerably with these men as
their friend and guest, he wished them success and health, bade them
a hearty good-bye, and left for Indianapolis to see the Governor, not
wishing to try experiments there, where he had been in camp so long.
When he arrived and had time to visit the Executive, he found
him greatly perplexed at what he had ascertained about the secret
treasonable organization in the State of Indiana. He asked the General
a great many questions about his recovery, his promotion, etc., and
finally said:

“'I want you to help keep up the reputation of our State in the army.'

“Gen. Anderson replied:

“'I hope, Governor, you will never have any cause for complaint in that
direction.'

“'No,' said the Governor; 'I hope I shall not! But,' said he, 'it begins
to look as though we might have trouble at home. These Golden Circles
are bound to give us trouble, and I fear very soon,'

“'Yes,' said the General, 'they are getting pretty numerous, and very
bold and exasperating at the same time. How many do you suppose there
are in this State, Governor?

“'I suppose there must be twenty or thirty thousand-enough for a pretty
good army. If they had any bold man to lead them, they could release our
prisoners here and destroy our city.'

“Seeing that the Governor exhibited some alarm, the General was afraid
to tell him then how many there actually were in the State. But very
soon his Adjutant-General came in, and in conversation raised the
figures to some forty or fifty thousand. The Governor looked surprised,
and the General thought that he might then disclose the facts as
to numbers, and told the Governor that he had found out means of
ascertaining, and that their claim for Indiana was 75,000. This seemed
to startle him. He at once asked his Adjutant-General how many regiments
there were now in camp near the city, and was informed that there were
four, with a great many recruits in the camp of instruction. He made
many inquiries of the General as to how he obtained his information.
Gen. Anderson told him that he had obtained it in various ways; that
some of his friends had joined the organization and, not believing in
it, had posted him, under the seal of confidence.

“'Do you believe them?' inquired the Governor.

“'I most certainly do,' responded the General.

“The General then gave him the names of Strider, Bowen, Bowlens,
Millington, Dorsing and Byron as the leaders--Organizers, Agitators,
Commanders, etc.--for the State of Indiana. The Governor was surprised
at hearing some of the names, and said he had no doubt of Strider being
at the bottom of it, but that he would not be caught; that when the
trying time should come, if ever, he would turn up as counsel, and
in that way would get out of it, and thereby seal the mouths of the
criminals.

“He advised the Governor to keep a watch on some of these men, and he
would soon discover them; that they had not been long enough at this
thing to understand the necessary precaution. None had yet been caught
and punished, and they were not looking to the serious consequences to
themselves should they be exposed.

“He also asked the Governor to apprise the President of the United
States of the condition of these matters in the State, but at the same
time not to mention his name as the source of information. He bade
the Governor good-by and left for Camp Chase, Ohio, having, while in
Indianapolis, determined to return to Ohio and investigate the prisoners
at Camp Chase. When he arrived there, having no authority, he could not
converse with the prisoners alone; but, becoming acquainted with the
Colonel commanding the Camp, and explaining in confidence who he was
and his mission, he was allowed free access to the camp and to the
prisoners. He soon picked out a young man from Virginia--his appearance
would indicate his age to be about eighteen years. He told the General
that he lived in the extreme south-western part of what is now old
Virginia. His name was Ridenbergen. He said to the General that he had
no cause to fight against the United States, but that he was in now and
proposed to fight it out. The General having played the Southern dodge
and sympathy with the rebellion in such a way as to satisfy him, and
also having given the sign of the Circle, which this young Virginian
seemed to well understand, there was no longer any necessity for
withholding anything in reference to their condition, expectations of
succor, release, etc. He told the General that John Stetson, alias Col.
Jacob Reed, of Dayburg, had been there frequently; that only a few of
them recognized him; of course no one 'peached,' as they knew he was
working for their benefit.

“He said our commander of the prison was not very observing; that quite
a number had escaped, and nothing was known or said about it; that
others answered for them, reported them sick, or gave some other excuse
which was always taken; that Stetson had brought in the rituals of
the Golden Circle, and that all of them who were intelligent enough to
understand it, were posted, and that some of the guards belonged and
were constantly making the signs to the Confederate officers inside.
He had no doubt that sooner or later they would be released. He had the
same idea about how they would ultimately succeed. This idea pervaded
the minds of all with whom he had spoken on the subject. Many leading
men in Ohio were in accord with all that they contemplated with
reference to their release and the future success of the Confederacy.

“He also said that the party in Ohio who were in sympathy with the
rebellion were quite outspoken, and were under the lead of a very able
and bold man. The General inquired of whom he had reference, and he said
Valamburg, of Dayburg.

“'Yes,' the General responded, 'I have heard of him frequently; but is
he a military man?'

“'No,' replied Ridenbergen; 'but we have them in the State in many
places, from the Confederate army, just waiting the sound of the
bugle. But the fears I have are as to the time. It takes so long to get
everything ready--our people have to move so cautiously.'

“'Have you heard that we are organizing for raids from Canada at some
future time?'

“'Oh, yes; that is understood. Many of our best and brightest men are
over there, at different points, preparing for it; but that is to be
done only when we must strike in Northern cities for the purpose of
terrifying the Northern property-holders; we must strike then where the
greatest amount of wealth is concentrated.'

“The General then said to him:

“'Mr. Ridenbergen, you are a young man. I hope to hear good things of
you in the future,' and bade him good-bye.

“The General arrived at Allentown the next day. After the family
greetings, kisses from his wife and little daughter, and a 'How ar' you,
Marsa Tom?' from Ham and a 'Bress de good Laud, heah you is agin!' from
Aunt Martha were over, the General related his trip to me in minute
detail, and told me that matters were much worse than he had any
suspicion of prior to his investigations. In speaking of those he had
seen, and his many talks with members of the Knights of the Golden
Circle, his utter contempt for them, and especially for many leading
men who claimed to be loyal to the Union, but did not like the
unconstitutional manner of prosecuting the war, he remarked:

“'There was but one of all of them that I have seen for whom I have any
sympathy or respect, and he is the young Virginian, Mr. Ridenbergen.
I rather liked the frankness of this young man. I am satisfied that
at heart he is not a rebel, but is young, and, after engaging in the
rebellion, will go as far as any one to make it a successful cause.'

“Just then Jackson came from the train and entered the house.

“'My! how well you are looking, Gen. Anderson, compared with your
appearance when I left. You must have been to some water-cure or have
used some kind of elixir of life,' was his first greeting.

“'No, sir,' replied the General; 'I have been marching, and it has
brought me out wonderfully.'

“'Yes, it has. Well, Jennie, I saw David, Dr. James and Henry. They are
all well and “spilin'” for a fight. David thinks that his brigade can
thrash the whole rebel army.'

“Little Jennie rushed to her Uncle Jackson, saying:

“'Did you see my good papa?'

“'Yes, dear, I saw him, and he sent you a thousand kisses and asked all
about you.'

“Turning away, he said, 'Poor David, his heart is broken over the loss
of his little Sarah.'

“Gen. Anderson said, 'Sit down, and tell us all about your visit. Were
you successful?'

“'Oh, yes; I am a full-fledged Captain in the 18th U. S. Inf.,
and assigned, by order of the Secretary of War, as Aide-de-camp to
Brig.-Gen. Thomas Anderson, the hero.'

“'Stop, stop,' said the General; 'you must not commence that too soon.
The taffy part must be left off if you are to be on my staff.'

“'My dear,' said his wife, 'he can say that about you to me; for it's
the truth. Capt. Jackson, I will not get mad at you for speaking in a
complimentary manner about my husband.'

“'Hereafter I will repeat all the good things which I may have to say
about him to you; but you will tell him, and then he will get mad at
me.'

“'No, he will not be mad; don't you know what peculiar animals men are?'

“'Well, yes; they are rather peculiar,' said Jackson. 'They like
compliments when not deserving; but when deserving they then dislike
them. Is that not about the way with most men? I notice women are
somewhat differently constituted? Are they not?'

“'Yes, indeed; they always like compliments. Do they not, my dear?'
addressing her husband.

“'I have usually found it so,' replied the General. His wife ran into
the house, and laughingly said:

“'Well, I guess Tom has been trying his compliments on some one else.
Has he not, aunty?' addressing Aunt Martha.

“'God lub you' sole, chile, dese men, you can't tell nuffin 'bout dem,
sho'; but Massa Tom be all rite, I 'spect; I knows him; no fear 'bout
him; de good Laud spar' him for good work, sho'.'

“I asked the General to write out a full statement of all he had
reported to me. He did so that night, and the following day I mailed it
to the President with a private note accompanying.

“During the day Jackson entertained us with his visit to Washington, to
the army, and the pleasant time he passed in camp with his brothers. He
said that there was something wrong in that army; that the machinery did
not seem to work very smoothly, but that never having been a soldier,
perhaps he could not form a correct opinion. The sequel told the tale,
however.”

“Well, Uncle Daniel, this Golden Circle discovery was most
extraordinary,” said Dr. Adams.

“Yes. It grew into greater proportions later on, however.”

“I feel an interest in knowing what became of that young Virginian whom
Gen. Anderson met at Camp Chase; his name I forget, but have it written
down.”

“Yes; you mean Mr. Ridenbergen?”

“Yes.”

“I have learned that he went through the war on the rebel side unharmed,
after the war married in Pennsylvania, and is now one of the most
prominent men in Virginia. He espoused the advanced policy of the men
who saved the Union, and is now one of the leading opponents of the
unreconstructed in that State.”

Uncle Daniel becoming very weak and exhausted, by an agreement with us,
the continuance of his story was postponed until another time.




CHAPTER VIII.

     BATTLE OF PAGELAND--A VICTORY TURNED INTO A DEFEAT BY
     TREACHERY--DEATH OF GEN. LYON--ON THE TRAIL OF THE KNIGHTS
     OF THE GOLDEN CIRCLE.

     “Sorrow breaks seasons, and reposing hours,
     Makes the night morning, and the noontide night.”
      --Shakespeare

“During the two weeks intervening, Dr. Adams was engaged in carefully
writing from his very full shorthand notes the relation of facts as
given by Uncle Daniel. At the appointed time all were again present,
eager for a continuance of this interesting and remarkable history of
events only a short time past, and yet almost forgotten. When all were
seated Uncle Daniel began:

“The time between the sending of my report to the President of
Gen. Anderson's trip and his answer, with further instructions, was
considerable. Finally, I received a letter from the Secretary of War,
who seemed very much gratified about the information that had been
gathered, as also at the manner in which it had been obtained. He
requested that I send or go myself to Canada and ascertain such further
facts as I could in reference to the conspiracy and the movements of
the conspirators. Gen. Anderson, my son Jackson, and myself held a
consultation as to my going. They thought the undertaking too hazardous
for me to attempt, and finally Jackson proposed that he would go
himself, saying that it would be at least two months before Gen.
Anderson could again take the field for active operations; in the
meantime he (Jackson) could be profitably employed in this business for
the Government. This was agreed upon as the better course to pursue.
Jackson was at once given all the secrets of the Circle as far as
the General knew them. He studied the passwords, signs, and their
instructions until the General pronounced him sufficiently well informed
for a first class conspirator. And as soon as he could get himself in
readiness he started for Montreal, C. E., by way of New York. During
all this time the Circle had been busily at work, and the excitement was
increasing all over the country.

“The alarm for fear of the enemy in our rear was producing such a
condition of things as to endanger the safety of the people every
where in the West, and at this time much encouragement was given to
our enemies at home by the many failures of our armies in the East. The
army, as before stated, had been put under a new commander, Gen. Pike,
and the displeasure created among the ranking officers was easily to
be seen by their language and manner towards him. This feeling was
constantly fed by disparaging articles in the opposition press. The
enemy in arms could easily see that this was a golden opportunity, and
they availed themselves of it. They commenced a movement which indicated
an advance against our forces. Gen. Wall, of the rebel army, had by
rapid marches put himself between Gen. Pike and his base. This forced
a movement on the part of our troops to the rear, and necessitated an
immediate attack upon Gen. Wall in order to drive him back from the
threatening position he occupied. The troops were moved rapidly back
in the direction of Cow Creek, where it was intended by Gen. Pike to
assault him.

“The army was at last all collected in easy supporting distance, and
Pike moved out with Gen. Horn's corps and assaulted Gen. Dawn's division
of Wall's army. The contest was a spirited one, and lasted until well
in the night. Dawn finally retreated. During the night all arrangements
were made for an advance. The next morning the General-in-chief of the
rebel armies was moving by forced marches in order to join Wall prior
to any serious engagement, and Pike was determined to attack Wall before
the main army of the enemy could arrive; but, to his utter astonishment,
his forces under Farlin, ordered to join him from the base of supplies,
were not in motion as yet, as he ascertained; and so with Fitzgibbon,
who had been repeatedly urged to come with all dispatch. This left Pike
in such a condition that he must delay his attack, which delay might
bring great disaster to his army. Pike sent his staff officers to notify
those Generals of his desires and intentions, which was done; but all
manner of excuses were given for the delay. Finally, the next day, when
part of his forces had arrived, Fitzgibbon coming up leisurely with his
corps of magnificent soldiers, he was forced to commence the battle in
the absence of Farlin and his corps. He moved out, putting his cavalry
on the right flank, near Siddon Springs, threatening the left of Wall's
army, who were formed in line of battle at or near a small town called
Pageland. Rackett holding Pike's right, Shunk in the center, and
Brig-Gen. David Lyon on the left of Shunk, his left resting on the edge
of a grove of thick timber. The extreme left of the command was held by
Gen. Fitzgibbon's corps. It was understood that Fitzgibbon would attack
the enemy during the engagement on his right flank, and in that way
measurably destroy him. The troops being thus disposed they were
ordered to advance. The battle soon commenced by slight cavalry
skirmishing on our right. Our cavalry having met the cavalry of the
enemy, he, discovering our movements and positions, moved out to
meet us. The firing and cracking of carbines increased, until finally
musketry was distinguishable on the line fronting our cavalry. They soon
asked for support, which was sent, and the enemy driven back. At this
time skirmishing opened in several places on our infantry line, and
continued until our whole line was formed and advanced. The enemy having
advantage in position, did not advance to meet our forces, but held
themselves in readiness to receive any attack that our troops should
make upon them, Wall intending to save his men as much as possible, and
to hold out until the main rebel army should arrive. Finally an assault
was ordered all along the Une, and Wall was driven back to a deep
depression in the ground, behind which, on the rising slope beyond, he
reformed his line. Our forces pressed forward and assailed his left with
great energy. Wall gradually gave way and was being easily driven back,
when all at once a dash was made from the position to which they had
been forced. This onslaught was so vigorous and irresistible that our
forces had to give way and fall back to the main line. Gen. Rackett,
seeing this dash of the enemy, at once said:

“'These are fresh troops. They are re-enforcing from some other part of
the line.'

“This being communicated to the commanding General, he said they must
have weakened the center. In order to test this he ordered an assault to
be made at once upon their center. In this opinion he was correct. The
assault upon the enemy's center dislodged him and drove him in much
confusion back to another position. Our left then moved forward
rapidly with the same result, and the battle was going well and very
satisfactorily. Our right being then re-enforced, the enemy was driven
from his line at every point. Gen. Pike believing that he had the enemy
in a position where he could easily beat him, if his other forces would
come up promptly, sent to the rear to find Farlin, but he could not be
found. He said to one of his staff officers:

“'Does not this look as if I was betrayed?'

“The staff officer, now dead, replied:

“'General, this is what I have feared for some time. The movements of
the enemy look as though they were only fighting for time. You see
how easily they are forced back--in numbers engaged more than equal to
ours.'

“'What of Fitzgibbon on the left? I have not heard a gun in that
direction.'

“'Nor will you,' replied the officer.

“'But he has orders to attack at once. He must attack very soon, I am
sure. How can he see and hear a battle like this without engaging?'

“The officer made no reply. The General thought he would ascertain, and
ordered his staff officer to proceed to the line of Gen. Lyon, and ask
him to feel out from his left for Fitzgibbon, and to open communication
with him. This order being executed, Gen. Lyon reported that he could
not find any force to his left, but at the same time reported that there
was much noise and dust in his front on the main road, and he feared
re-enforcements for the enemy.

“Just then Gen. Mcintosh reported with his command, which had been
marching from Fitzgibbon's rear for some time in order to reach the
battlefield. As soon as he had reported Gen. Pike directed that, as soon
as his command could rest, so as to be in condition to move forward,
he desired him to move up in support of Gen. Lyon; as he feared
re-enforcements were moving to his (Lyon's) front.

“Just about this, time Fitzgibbon had discovered much dust rising in the
direction of the south. He called the attention of some of his officers
to it, and proposed a retreat. But his command did not think a retreat
without losing a man or testing the enemy would look quite soldierly,
and the retreat was abandoned for the present; but in a few moments an
immense flock of wild pigeons (having been by some means disturbed,)
came down like a great cloud, and the roaring sound they produced in
their flight so startled Gen. Fitzgibbon that he thought a large corps
of cavalry were charging upon him. Thereupon he immediately ordered his
men under cover and to prepare for retiring, at the same time announcing
that our forces were evidently beaten. Gen. Mcintosh moved forward and
at once engaged the enemy, and the battle became general.

“The enemy, then evidently being re-enforced, made several desperate but
unsuccessful assaults upon our center; but soon fresh troops were thrown
in its support, and our lost ground regained. Our right at this time
pressed forward, and at once were hotly engaged. Our artillery now
opened from the different positions occupied by our batteries. The
enemy's batteries promptly replied. Our cav airy were ordered to try and
penetrate to the rear of the enemy. Here was a contest between cavalry.
Carbines cracked and rattled almost like the heavy musketry of infantry.
Many a horse was seen going at full speed over the field riderless. Many
a cavalryman fell. At last a charge with sabers drawn was ordered. The
sight, as described to me, was one of grandeur to behold. On to the
charge they went, each saber flashing in the sunlight. Crash went saber
against saber. Sparks flew as if from heated steel. 'Forward?' was heard
on both sides. Flashes of sparks and ringing sounds from the steel as
saber came against saber. Arms were gashed, hands and faces were cut,
heads were cleft, and sabers pierced the bodies of the troopers on
either side.

[Illustration: Henry Lyon is Captured 135]

“Back went the rebel cavalry and on against them our men were thrown,
until infantry came to the enemy's support, accompanied by a battery
of artillery. A deadly fire from both was poured into the ranks of
our horsemen. Our lines staggered, then recovered again, but could not
withstand both the infantry and artillery. They were compelled to fall
back. Many were unhorsed and quite a number captured. Among them was my
son Henry, of the Michigan Cavalry. His horse was killed, and his own
back injured in the fall, so that he could not make good his escape.
(He was sent to the rear. I heard nothing from him for months--only
knew that he was taken prisoner.) But the command again rallied and held
their line on the flank of our infantry. The artillery on the left of
our line were having a regular duel with several batteries of the enemy.
Our center was being sorely pressed again. Column after column assaulted
and checked our advance. Gen. Pike was very anxious about his support,
and repeatedly sent to find Farlin, but the same report was made each
time, 'Not in sight; cannot be found.' At last a report came that Farlin
was some twenty miles away, and moving very leisurely.

“'My God!' exclaimed Gen. Pike, 'my army is sacrificed. These men will
not support me. The battle is to be lost, and perhaps all depends upon
the issue here to-day. To win this battle makes our success sure; to
lose it may be the loss of all.'

“He called an officer and said, 'Take this written order to Fitzgibbon.
He must attack at once.'

“Fitzgibbon was found beneath the shade of a broad oak. He had not fired
a gun; his men were panting for a chance to enter the contest. As the
officer passed along they cried out, 'Why not put us into the fight?'
How is the battle going?' 'Are we driving them?' 'The rebs are being
re-enforced; we can see troops coming down by Pageland.' (The town was
in full view from where they were impatiently waiting for the command
'Forward!')

“Gen. Fitzgibbon paid no attention to the order, except to say, 'Pike
doesn't know what he is doing.'

“The officer said, on returning, Fitzgibbon's men were lying by their
arms, (which were stacked,) and could be put into use instantly.
The General could not believe that the attack would not be made by
Fitzgibbon. The battle now was at white heat--infantry, artillery and
cavalry were all engaged. The lines swayed, sometimes the rebels were
gaining slight advantage, and then the forces on our side. Gen. David
Lyon's command was now all engaged.

“He drove the enemy through the woods where his left first rested. He was
handling his troops well. The commanding General came along where he was
engaged and complimented him very highly for the manner in which he was
succeeding on his part of the line. He then asked David (Gen. Lyon)
if he could hear any firing on his left. Gen. Lyon answered him in the
negative.

“'Is it possible? Are you not mistaken? It seems to me that I can hear
it.9

“'No, Gen. Pike,' said Gen. Lyon; 'you imagine so; for I assure you I
have watched and listened for some movement on my left. There has been
none whatever.'

“Gen. Shunk came up just at that moment and said:

“'Gen. Pike, Gen. Rackett is killed.'

“'Is that so? He was one of my most faithful Generals.'

“He sent an officer back to see that the next officer in rank should
take command at once.

“Gen. Shunk said to Gen. Pike:

“'I fear that re-enforcements for the enemy are coming up. I have just
captured some prisoners, who say they have marched fifteen miles to-day,
and were put into the battle as soon as they arrived. They also say that
the commander of the rebel armies is not more than ten miles away with
at least 20,000 men.'

“'Yes, that may be so; but if Fitzgibbon will attack on the left, as I
have ordered him positively to do, and Gen. Farlin comes up--who is not
farther away than the rebel troops--we will be their equal in numbers.'

“'Do you think Farlin is trying to get here, General?'

“'Why, he knows we are engaged. He is an old soldier and ought to do his
duty.'

“'True enough; but if he did not know his duty, and was not an old
soldier, he might come sooner than he will, knowing it. I do not like to
say so, General, but I have my suspicions that Farlin and Fitzgibbon do
not wish you to win this battle.'

“The conversation was here broken off. The enemy having made a desperate
assault on Shunk's command, he rode quickly away. By this time the
battle was terrific, and the slaughter terrible on both sides. The field
was beginning to look more like a slaughter-pen than anything else
to which it could be compared. Men were being brought to the rear on
stretchers, and also carried by their comrades without stretchers; in
fact, you know it was a very common thing for several men to take hold
of one to help him to the rear when sometimes the soldier had but a
scratch..

“Gen. Horn, who had been in reserve up to this time, came up with his
command and supported Gen. Mcintosh, who was now hard pressed. When Gen.
Horn entered the field he could be heard far away, having a stentorian
voice. He advanced rapidly and drove the right of Wall back far from his
main line; but here, in close supporting distance, lay Longpath, with
his fresh troops. He waited until Horn's line was clear in advance of
the main line, and at once set upon him with great ferocity, driving him
back on Mcintosh, that portion of our line giving way for the moment.
Gen. Lyon's command was then furiously attacked by fresh troops. They
stood the shock, but had finally to give way. Pike witnessed this
terrible fighting, and said again, 'Can it be possible that Farlin will
not get here in time to save this battle?' He again rode up to Gen. Lyon
and asked if he still heard nothing on his left. The General answered
'No.' He then directed him to send a courier through and communicate
with Fitzgibbon. By this time the heaviest fighting was on the right and
center, the firing having slackened on the left. The courier was gone
but a short time, when he returned and reported the enemy marching down
a road to our left and forming at right angles with our line. This was
easily understood, and as soon as possible our left was changed to face
the troops so forming on and across our flank. New troops were thrown in
at this point, to enable proper resistance to be made, their attack on
our angle being made as a diversion.

“This attack now having been repulsed, the enemy were driven back, and
quite a number of prisoners captured; the soldiers became much elated
and commenced cheering, which was taken up all along the line. On our
left our officers took it that Farlin had arrived, or that Fitzgibbon
had sent word that he was going to attack at once and relieve the
situation, the position of the troops facing our left being such that he
could attack them in the rear. But all were doomed to be disappointed.
The rebels forming on our left were troops just arriving and under the
immediate command of the General-in-chief of the rebel army. They were
soon in position, and their skirmishers moving through the woods in the
direction of our refused left. The situation was critical indeed. The
commanding General ordered all the artillery that could be brought into
battery to be placed in position on this flank. The line then held by
Wall on his left could not be abandoned, nor could he draw from his
center, as he was being pressed all along that part of the line. But on
they came through the woods. None but infantry could get through without
great delay. They opened fire. Our line gave way, and fell back to the
support of the batteries. Finally the batteries all opened, and like
the roar of mighty thunders was the noise. The earth shook as though an
earthquake was disturbing it. Fire was vomited forth as though it were
from the mouth of some burning volcano. Destruction and death were dealt
out unsparingly to the enemy. They started to charge the batteries, and
with that hideous yell that they seemed only to employ or understand,
on they came. But finally, when they could stand against the torrent
of shot and shell no longer, they broke to the rear in great confusion.

“Gen. Pike saw the success, and exclaimed: 'If my other troops would
only come up, or Gen. Fitzgibbon attack, the day would soon be ours.'

“But he was doomed to further disappointment. They did not come up,
neither did they attack. The rebel General soon took in the whole
situation. He put his artillery in battery on a hill to the right of
our refused line, so as to concentrate his fire on the flank of our
batteries and force them to change position. This being done he
opened some eighteen guns. This forced a change in the position of our
batteries, and there and then commenced, one of the most destructive
artillery duels that was ever witnessed. Battery horses were killed on
both sides, gunners blown to pieces by shell, officers and men mangled,
Gen. Mosely, on the rebel side, had his head shot off, and a Colonel and
two Captains were blown to pieces on our side. While this duel was going
on the rebel General was reforming his men for another infantry attack
on our left. At this moment Gen. Pike said to Gen. Lyon:

“'General, I hear guns over to our left.'

“Gen. Lyon listened, and answered:

“'Well, General, I believe you are correct. I think I heard a gun.'

“Pike then believed that Fitzgibbon had made an attack, and would compel
the enemy to withdraw their forces directly on our left. But he was
mistaken. No attack was made except the one by the rebels. Very soon
afterwards they had completed their line, and, knowing the value of a
flank attack, again assaulted in the same manner as before. They came
this time with more caution than before, but with a stronger force.
They opened fire on both sides about the same time. The battle was now
renewed all along the line--cavalry, infantry and artillery. The Unes
wavered occasionally on both sides. The left of our line gave way at
first, but rallied again. Gen. Lyon rode up and down his line, cheering
his men. He led them again and again against the seeming adamantine wall
of rebels, and finally forced them back slowly, holding all the ground
gained. By this time our center was penetrated and broken. Our troops
could not be rallied for some time. The rebels seeing our confusion took
advantage of it, and with the intrepidity of so many demons made another
attack on all parts of the line and forced our whole line some distance
to the rear. It looked for an hour as though all was lost. At one time
our lines seemed to be melting away and becoming disorganized. They were
rallied again, however, and formed a new line about a mile in the rear
of our first. Both armies were exhausted. Fresh troops then to our aid
would have settled the fortunes of the day in our favor But they did
not come. Gen. Pike thought that whoever made the first attack would
be successful, and ordered our line forward. They moved cautiously, but
steadily, attacking and driving the enemy back. He kept falling back
until he occupied his first line and we ours. Our left, however, was
soon struck by a division of fresh troops, and was driven back some
distance through the woods with great loss. My dear son, Gen. Lyon,
here, while rallying his men, was shot through the heart and instantly
killed.”

[Illustration: Death of General Lyon 142]

“The old man wept bitterly, and many tears rolled down the cheeks of his
listeners. When he could resume he said:

“If Fitzgibbon had attacked as was expected, our flank could not have
been turned, and the great slaughter that occurred on this part of the
line would have been avoided. Night here closed the day's slaughter with
our left completely turned and our troops demoralized. They passed the
night on their arms. The next morning at daylight the attack was resumed
by the rebels and our army was beaten. Gens. Stepleton and Kearnan fell
on that day, with many other brave officers and men. No battle lost
during the war fell with more crushing effect upon the loyal people than
did the defeat of the Army of the East at the battle of Pageland. The
battle was lost by the failure of Farlin and Fitzgibbon to support Gen.
Pike. They did just what the President and Secretary of War feared they
would do--that was, fail in supporting Pike, the new commander. Their
idea was to dictate the commander or not fight. One would think that men
who had fed upon the charity of the Government from youth to middle age
would be inspired by a more lofty feeling and sentiment. But this is a
mistake. You cannot infuse patriotism by drilling at a college or in
the field. This comes from the nursery of the mother. Nor can you put
brains, commonsense or courage where God has refused it. The question
with these men was, 'Do you belong to a certain chosen few?' If so, that
was put above every other consideration. A volunteer, no matter how
much he might develop a genius for military affairs, could have no
recognition at their hands.

“The fact that Julius Caesar and Napoleon Bonaparte were great generals
without military training except in the field proved nothing. If men
like those who first commanded our army in the East, and who formed the
coterie, had lived during the Revolutionary War, Washington and the
best of his generals would not have been permitted to have commanded a
brigade, if these men could have controlled as they did at the outbreak
of the rebellion. The same feeling has grown among our people since
the war, until the brains of a man cuts but little figure in matters
connected with governmental affairs. He must belong to one of two
classes: either a snob or one who has made a fortune. No matter whether
he made it selling rotten blankets to the Government, worthless arms
for the soldiers, bad meat, diseased horses, small mules, rotten and
poorly-put-together harness, or procured his money in some other way--if
he has it, the conclusion is at once that he is a great man and full of
wisdom. These things are unfortunate in a government like ours. But
this is the tendency, and has been for many years. Dash and swell is the
motto now; it is growing more in that direction every day. But I have
wandered away from my subject. The battlefield of Pageland and its
surroundings was a sight to behold the day after our defeat. The private
soldiers felt outraged and officers were discouraged, and many good
people despaired of our final success. Even the President was more
despondent than he had ever been, but still had faith in God and our
cause. The losses on both sides were very great. The country all around
was by both sides turned into a great hospital. The army was almost
disorganized; it certainly was most thoroughly demoralized. Gen. Pike
was relieved, and McGregor put in command again. Fitzgibbon was sent to
the rear without a command. Farlin was everywhere by every friend of his
country severely censured. Fitzgibbon was denounced as a traitor to his
superior officer.

“The mournful part to myself and family had only in part come upon us.
Dr. James Lyon, having cut one of his hands in making an amputation,
feared bad results from the wound; for that reason he procured a leave
of absence, and accompanied the remains of his brother David home. I
will not attempt to describe to you the depth of grief in our family,
from the oldest to the youngest. It was greater than I now wish to
recall, even though so many years have passed since that melancholy
scene. Suffice it to say that Gen. David Lyon fills the grave of as
gallant and noble a soldier as ever drew a sword. He rests beside his
wife and little daughter Sarah in the cemetery at Allentown.”

“The old man, overcome by this recital, could not speak for some time,
but finally continued:

“Gen. Anderson was very sad. Dr. James was very restless with his hand,
which had commenced swelling and was becoming extremely painful. My
wife Sarah and Jennie (David's widow) were stricken down with fever,
requiring the constant attendance of Mary Anderson and Aunt Martha
for many days before their recovery was assured. In the meantime Peter
arrived, the wound in his foot having broken out again. When he came to
his mother's bedside she said:

“'O! Peter, my son, that horrible dream haunts me still.'

“This dream from the first had a very depressing effect upon Peter,
though he pretended to think nothing of it. We now commenced casting
about to see if there was any way to have Henry exchanged. He being
merely a private soldier, this was not so easy of accomplishment, as
if he had been an officer. During the evening, while we were engaged in
conversation in the parlor, Aunt Martha came in and said:

“'Uncle Daniel, dar's a young lady on de porch who wants to see you very
bad, she say, on mos' obticlar bizness.'

“'Tell her to come in,' was my answer.

“In a moment a very modest and rather pretty young lady walked in. She
was evidently greatly embarrassed. I arose, and extending my hand asked
her to be seated. She sat down for a moment, and then hesitatingly said:

“'Your wife is unwell, I understand, Mr. Lyon?'

“'Yes,' I replied; 'very unwell. She has had a great sorrow recently.'

“'Yes, sir; so I understand. I very much desired to see her, but will
not annoy her at this time. I had a matter about which I wished to speak
with her. You know, women give their confidence to one another; but I
hope you will allow me to give mine to you, as your wife is sick?'

“'Yes, my good girl; you can say what you wish to me.'

“'Well, Mr. Lyon'--she then hesitated.

“'I encouraged her to proceed.

“'Well, I am on my way South, and I wish your good offices in getting
through the lines.'

“'How can I assist you, my child?'

“'I hear, sir, that you are a great friend of the President, and I
thought perhaps you might intercede for me.'

“'May I inquire for what purpose you wish to go South? Do your people
live there?'

“'No, sir; I live in Michigan. I was never farther South than this
place, and this is my first visit here. My name is Seraine Whitcomb. I
am going South to see what I can do to have a young man exchanged who is
now a prisoner in the hands of the rebels.

“'Is he your brother?' I inquired.

“She blushed, and replied:

“'No, sir, he is not a relative; but one in whom I am much interested.'

“I saw through the whole matter at once, but did not press the young
lady further. If I had only known whom she meant I would have embraced
her as the greatest little heroine living. She said she only wished a
letter from me to the President; that she would do the rest herself.
This letter I gave her without further questions. She was so modest and
yet so brave. She took the letter, bade me good-by, and left. As she
went out she remarked:

“'Do not be surprised if you should receive a letter from me at some
future time.'

“After she had gone Peter remarked that perhaps she was sent down South
by the Golden Circle, and I might be bestowing favors on the wrong
person. I said, 'True, but I will take my chances on that girl's being
honest, and, not only honest, but a regular little heroine.'

“Here the conversation on this subject came to an end, and we took up
the condition of the army. Peter said the jealousies between officers in
the Army of the East were strange; that there was nothing of this
kind among the Western troops; that all seemed to have the same common
purpose, and that was success; but, said he, it may be partly accounted
for in this, that we are all alike unskilled in the arts of war, and do
not know enough to get up these conspiracies and jealousies. We are all
volunteers, save two or three, and all obey orders, and go into a battle
to win, each one believing he is doing the best fighting. It seems
that at the battle of Pageland the only object of some of the leading
commanders was to find some way to lose the battle and at the same time
save their own scalps.

“Gen. Anderson said:

“'Well, I do not know how I may succeed as a commander; but I will have
the courage to relieve any man, and send him to the rear, of whom I
may have the least suspicion, whether it be for cowardice, want of
good intentions toward the Government, good faith toward his superior
officer, or for any other cause that might give uneasiness about his
properly performing his duty.'

“'That would seem to me to be the proper course for any commander of
forces,' I replied.”

“Uncle Daniel,” said Dr. Adams, “I am curious to know what became of
those two generals--Farlin and Fitzgibbon.”

“Well, sir, the same power that is now rewarding those who struck us
the heaviest blows, both North and South, is paying homage to these men.
They are both held in high esteem by many people, and you would think
they were the only loyal men that were near the battlefield on that
day.”

“Yes,” said Col. Bush; “to have lost an arm or leg on the Union side
is like the brand of Cain nowadays; but to have been a rebel or to have
belonged to the Golden Circle, or failed in some way by which the rebels
profited or gained advantage, entitles one to a medal or some high
position of honor and emolument.”




CHAPTER IX.

     BATTLE OF ANTLER'S RUN--SERAINE WHITCOMB LEAVES FOR THE
     SOUTH--PLOTTING IN CANADA--DISCOVERY OF A CONSPIRACY AMONG
     ARMY OFFICERS.

     “Yesterday was heard,
     The roar of war; and sad the sight of maid,
     Of mother, widow, sister, daughter, wife,
     Stooping and weeping over senseless, cold,
     Defaced, and mangled lumps of breathless earth,
     Which had been husbands, fathers, brothers, sons,
     And lovers, when that morning's sun arose.
     --Pollock.

“Gen. Anderson, Peter and myself concluded that we would again visit the
farm. There we found poor old Joseph Dent in utter despair on account of
his 'poor Captain' (as he called David) having been killed. He talked
of him in the most enthusiastic manner, and would then weep, saying 'the
only friend I had is gone, and I will not be satisfied until I can get
even with these rebels.'

“Gen. Anderson said: 'Well, Joseph, what will you do?'

“Joseph was silent; as an old soldier he knew how to keep his thoughts
to himself.

“'Will you go to the war?' continued the General.

“'No, sir; I will stay here and take care of this farm for Mrs. Lyon
and little Jennie. They shall not suffer while I am able to look after
them.'

“Old Ham thought he had a point, and said: 'Dat's good; dat's jes' what
I 'tend to do when Massa Tom git killed. Jes'so.'

“'Shut up, Ham. Your Massa Tom, as you call him, is not going to get
killed. There have been enough of the Lyon family killed already,' said
Peter.

“'Dat's so, Massa Peter. I not got dat in my kalkerlate, you see; but
I tell you I is monstrous feered 'bout dese matters; deys is heaps of
people gittin' killed, and most of dem is good peoples, so dey is. Can't
tell who nex', massa; can't tell, sah!'

“'Well, Joseph, there will be no trouble about your staying. We want you
here on the farm,' I said. 'We are all very much distressed, but, at the
same time, we must look out for our country somewhat; and our family all
being in the army, of course we must expect some misfortunes. Have you
heard any more of the Golden Circle in this neighborhood?'

“'Yes, Uncle Daniel; they are at work, and since the defeat of our
forces at the battle of Pageland, they are outspoken about what they
intend to do; not only in aid of the rebellion, but they threaten the
Union people here at home--threaten to destroy their property, and make
war in Indiana if it becomes necessary, just as you have heretofore
understood. I am keeping close watch, and they will not be able to do
any very great harm here without my knowing it.'

“We cautioned Joseph, and told him to come in to our house frequently
and let us know what was going on.

“On returning home we found Aunt Sarah and Jennie much improved, but Dr.
James was suffering very great pain. The swelling was extending up his
arm from his hand. I said to him perhaps we had better have a physician.
'You are suffering so much that I fear you are not in a condition
to attend to your own case.' He consented, and one was called in. On
examination he pronounced the trouble blood poisoning. James was greatly
alarmed at this. The physician commenced at once with the most radical
treatment. The next morning James seemed much easier, and looked as if
he was coming out of it all right.

“The next day, while we were sitting on the porch, the postman brought
me a letter, written in a delicate female hand. I read it and then
called Gen. Anderson and Peter to listen:


     “Washington, D. C.

     “My Dear Mr. Lyon, Allentown, Ind.:

     “Thanks for your very great kindness. I have the President's
     pass through onr lines; when you hear from me again, I will
     let you know about your son Henry.

     “Very respectfully,

     “SERAINE WHITCOMB.”

“'Well, well,' said Peter; 'that tells a tale. Now, father, I agree with
you. She is a brave girl; there is not more than one in a thousand like
her.'

“'Yes; but what does she mean by saying I will hear from my son?'

“'It will reveal itself,' said Peter. 'She is in love with Henry, and
has gone to look after him.'

“'Do you think so?' I inquired. 'Well, I do sincerely hope so.'

“Just then we saw Jackson coming. He came in, and after salutations
and greetings between us, he entered the house to see his mother,
the Doctor, and Jennie. He was much broken down over the death of his
brother. The news of the battle and the list of the dead in the papers
having contained David's name, he hastened home. He had, however, been
very successful in laying the foundation for probing many things which
might be of vast importance in the future.

“When he left home he first went to New York and had an interview with
McMasters and B. Wudd, who were the leading spirits in New York, and one
of them the principal man North in starting the organization. From these
men he learned much about what was going on in Canada; the fact that
there was no doubt that quite a number of Southern men were there with
a large amount of money with which to carry out any scheme that might be
agreed upon. These men in New York were in constant communication with
those in Canada; also, with leading men in Richmond. He managed to
obtain a letter of introduction from McMasters to the leading Knights
of the Golden Circle in Canada; this letter introduced him as William
Jackson, of Memphis, Tenn., and was directed to the Hon. Jacob
Thomlinson. With this letter and the information he had now obtained,
he made his way home, feeling that he could not undertake the further
prosecution of his mission without returning and consoling his mother
and the family as much as he possibly could in their distress. Knowing
his mother's feeble condition he feared the consequences of the heavy
affliction that had fallen upon her during the battle of Pageland--with
one son a prisoner and another killed outright.

“I wrote the President, and promised that later on I would have the
Canada mystery solved. Our people were in desperate straits. Our
army had been outnumbered and forced back to the position in front of
Pageland; defeated there, and forced to shelter itself in the rear of
Cow Creek. It was now broken and shattered, lying in defenses near the
Capital, discouraged and worn down by fatigue, wounds and disease. The
outlook was anything but bright. Commanders had been changed. Some of
our best fighting generals had lost their lives at Pageland. The country
had but little confidence in the staying or fighting qualities of the
commander, Gen. McGregor, as he had made no success heretofore. The
rebel commander, well understanding the situation, was moving rapidly
up and along the south line of the Grand River, evidently intending an
invasion of the loyal States by penetrating our lines and crossing at
or near Brown's Ferry. Our lines were held at this point by Gen. Milo,
having in his command 10,000 men, who were all surrendered at the demand
of Gen. Wall without very much resistance. Wall had slipped through the
mountains like a cat, and was upon Milo before he knew of his approach.
This was very strange though, and hard to understand, and only increased
the fears and suspicions already existing that something was out of
joint, so that the machinery was working badly in that army.

“'The enemy now had no impediment in the way of a rapid movement except
high waters, which seemed to interpose as the only power that could stop
their advance into the interior of our country and to the rear of our
capital, cutting off all communications to the North with the loyal
States.

“The administration was now in a position of great danger, in many
respects, not before contemplated.

“The rebel sympathizers and Golden Circles were loud in their
denunciation of the war and the party sustaining it. Thos. A. Strider
and Dan Bowen were traversing the state of Indiana, making inflammatory
speeches, and all over the North the same policy was being pursued by
the anti-war party. They alarmed the people by declaring that unless the
war was stopped our homes North would be invaded; that our armies could
not cope with the rebels. The only thing that seemed to put a check to
their hopes, operations and denunciations was the fact that our armies
in the West were having a continuation of victories.

“This being the situation of the armies and the condition of the minds
of the people, the loss of another great battle at this time would
have greatly prolonged the war, if it would not have been fatal to the
ultimate success of the Union cause. The authorities at Washington
were doing everything in their power to allay the excitement among the
people, and at the same time were trying to have the Army of the East
put in motion so as to pass down to Pottstown and interpose in front
of the enemy; he evidently intending to move by way of Brown's Ferry,
throwing part of his force on the Brown's Ferry road and a portion over
into the Sheepstown road, making a junction at or near Shapleyville.
The Union forces were expected to move across by Fardenburg, down
the sloping mountains of Cochineal and along and across Mad Valley to
Pottstown, and take position behind Antler's Run. But it seemed to be
almost impossible to get Gen. McGregor to put his army in motion. Many
were the excuses made; want of this thing to-day, and something else
to-morrow--shoes, clothing, blankets, and many other things--protracted
the delay. Finally, the President and Secretary of War being out of
patience with his hesitancy and excuses, the President directed the
Secretary of War to order Gen. McGregor to move without further delay.
This seemed to be understood by McGregor, and the next day everything
about the camps was in a bustle, and the Army of the East was again in
motion; but the movements were slow, and made in such a manner as not
to inspire very great confidence in our immediate success. The men
and subordinate officers seemed resolute and determined, but there was
something surrounding all the movements that was mysterious.

“The papers were full of all the movements, and were discussing the
probabilities, etc. Seeing this Gen. Anderson was fired with a desire
to at once return to the front. On account of his very weak and feeble
condition we tried to detain him, but in vain.

“He said: 'No, I am going to the front, and I wish to go to the East.
Will you ask by telegraph for such an assignment for me?'

“I answered that I would, and did so immediately.

“The next day he received a telegram from the Secretary of War,
directing him to report to Gen. McGregor for assignment to duty.

“Gen. Anderson said to Capt. Jackson: 'Your invasion of Canada will be
postponed until later. You will be ready to start in the morning with me
to the Army of the East.'

“He called old Ham, and repeated the order to him to be in readiness.

“Ham said: 'Afore de Lord, Massa Tom, you isn't gwine to be fitin' agin,
is you?'

“'Yes! You get ready. Have your bedding and all your traps ready, if you
think you can stand to be shot at by the rebels.'

“'Shot at! Is you gwine to put me out to be snot at? Me done thought
thar war 'nuff white folks to get shotten at, widout de poor darkies
like me.'

“'Yes; but you want to be free, do you not, Ham?'

“'Yeas; Massa Tom, I wants dat--I wants it bad; but how is gwine to
come?'

“'Fight for it. You are no better than I am, are you? Had you not as
well be shot as for me to be?'

“'Yeas, sir; dat am so. 'Specks de darkies got to fight. I'll fight,
Massa Tom, if you say so. Yes, I do. I stay wid you, I will sho'.'

“Old Martha happened to hear this, and broke forth:

“'Well, well, Massa Tom, I's sorry you is gwine to de wah agin. But it
all right. I tells you dat de good Laud save you up for some good. I
jes' know he do it all right. I take care of Missus Mary and de little
gal; don't you hab no fears 'bout dem. But you isn't gwine to hab Ham
go, is you? If you doz, dat ole fool he git kill. I 'spect he got no mo'
sense dan jes' git rite in whar dey is fitin?'

“'No, no, Marfa; you is wrong dar. I tell you dat you is. I stay by
Massa Tom.'

“Peter and Jackson laughed, and said to the General:

“'Ham thinks you will be in a safe place during the fighting.'

“'Yes, he seems to be of that impression. I think I may, perhaps,
relieve his mind somewhat,' said the General, with a smile.

“The General telegraphed Capt. Day at Dolensburg to report at once to
him at Gen. McGregor's Headquarters, Army of the East. The preliminaries
being arranged, all were to be ready early the next morning. The General
and Capt. Jackson having arranged and got ready their proper uniforms,
horses, mess-chest and everything that would be required in the field,
they spent the evening quietly. The Doctor was very sleepless, and
suffered more than usual, but was thought not to be in any immediate
danger. My wife and Jennie were now also quite recovered.

“The next morning, the General having procured a car for their horses,
camp equipage, etc., they took leave of the family, who were in tears,
the two little girls, Mary and Jennie, crying aloud. As the General,
Capt. Jackson and Ham walked away, Aunt Martha called after Ham:

“'Now, Ham, ef you eber spects to see me agin, don't you forgit your
prares ob a night, and de good Laud will fotch you back ef you do dat;
but He let you git kill like a cat when you done forget it. Do you mine
me, Ham?'

“Turning to me, she continued: 'I 'spect de rebs git dat darky,' then
going to the kitchen she gave vent to her grief. The poor old woman felt
as badly to part with her Ham as did Mary in parting from her General,
but gave expression to it in her own simple way.

[Illustration: General Anderson taking Command 154]

“The General, Jackson and Ham arrived safely at the headquarters of Gen.
McGregor, which were in the valley to the north and east of Cochineal
Mountains. His commands of infantry and artillery were variously located
on the mountains and in the valley, with his cavalry at Pottstown. It
so happened that one of the division commanders had been taken seriously
ill, and was sent to the rear. This gave an opportunity for Gen.
Anderson to be placed in command of a good division at once. To
Anderson's great delight Gen. McGregor ordered him to take command
of this division. Having reported, he sent immediately for all the
commanding officers of the division and made their acquaintance. He was
greatly pleased with them and they with him. He learned all he could in
so short a time about the troops, and at once took measures to put
them in good condition. In a few days Capt. James Day reported, and
the General's military family was organized, he having taken an
Adjutant-General from the command.

“The army was now being rapidly put in good shape; a complete
re-organization was being effected, and all were feeling less
discouraged. They seemed to well understand that there was to be a great
battle fought, and the imperative necessity for a victory by our forces
East at this particular time.

“The enemy found means by which to pass the obstructions in his way,
and moved through the country in different directions. Finding that the
movements of our army were slow, he seemed to feel that there was no
immediate danger of a serious engagement. But the surrender of our
forces under Gen. Milo (who died immediately afterwards) so elated the
rebel army that they were determined to attack our forces whenever and
wherever opportunity offered. Both parties were, however, maneuvering
for some advantage; the General of the rebel forces holding McGregor off
until his force under Wall could come up from Brown's Ferry. The cavalry
of both armies were now scouting continuously for many miles on the
flanks of the armies. The pickets were out quite a distance in advance
of the opposing forces. No conflict had yet occurred between any of
the outposts. Finally the commander of the rebel forces selected his
position and gave challenge to our forces, with his rear to the Grand
River, covering two main roads leading to the rear, his front facing
the winding course of Antler's Run, his right resting on a bridge at the
main crossing, his center occupying a ridge commanding the open fields
in his front, the right of his left and right center resting on the
junction of the two main roads, his extreme left refused so as to form
an angle at his left center, extending along and through a skirt of
heavy woods; his reserves to the rear on the roads, so as to be thrown
easily to the center or either flank in case of necessity; the country
to his front, right and left being very uneven, full of gulches and
ravines, difficult of passage, especially under fire. So posted he
flaunted the rebel flag in the face of our army, although at this
time his main support had not arrived from Brown's Ferry. But no doubt
existed in his mind, I presume, as to their coming up in good time.
McGregor did not then seem inclined to accept the challenge, His command
was moving slowly. Farlin, still in command of a corps (for shame be it
ever to our indulgent chiefs), was some distance away and did not arrive
on that day. So the armies rested. In the meantime Gen. Anderson
was eager for the fray. He visited Gen. McGregor's headquarters and
indicated his desire to bring on the engagement, saying very soon the
enemy would be so securely posted that it would be exceedingly difficult
to dislodge him. To this McGregor replied that he could not risk a
battle without Farlin's forces being up and in readiness to support our
line.

“During the night Farlin came up. A battle must then and there be
fought. The whole country stood with bated breath awaiting the result,
as all understood that the rebels must be driven back on what they
claimed as their own ground, or our country was in imminent danger of
becoming demoralized should they see the battlefields changed to the
North.

“When the morning came, the commands being in readiness, the movement of
our forces commenced. It was soon discovered that the main crossing of
Antler's Run was held by a strong force of the enemy, which compelled
our troops to seek for some other and less dangerous passage. This was
found to our right, facing the left of the enemy. His left being refused
gave a safer passage over the stream. The plan of battle was to throw
Gen. Horn's Corps at the upper crossing, assail the rebel left and, if
successful, to cross the left of our forces, under Gen. Broomfield, by
assaulting the enemy at the lower crossing, and if he could be driven
from there, to cross and assault his right, his center being too
strongly posted to risk an attack on it then. (Gen. Anderson had been
assigned with his division to Gen. Horn's Corps.) The crossing over on
our right was effected without much difficulty, and the enemy pressed
back in the heavy woods. The enemy were evidently holding and waiting,
as no general engagement ensued. Another corps crossed in the rear of
Gen. Horn's and formed ready to assault. Our left had not as yet been
able to cross in front of the enemy's right, and in this position we
found ourselves,--part of our army on the one side and part on the other
of Antler's Run, in front of the enemy; thus the two armies rested that
night. Our intention being thus revealed to the enemy, he had only to
wait the attack, which they must have concluded would be commenced at
an early hour in the morning. The night was most beautiful; the vault of
heaven being studded with stars, so that either army was in plain view
of the other, at no very great distance separated. During the night
another of our corps crossed the Run at the same crossing that Gen. Horn
had passed over in the morning, and moved down to the left and in front
of the rebel center. Occasionally the movement of this corps would be
responded to with a few musket shots and a few shells from a battery
posted on the ridge in the rebel center. At an early hour in the morning
the Union forces took the initiative and hurled Horn's Corps against
the rebels' extreme left. The struggle was a severe one--re-enforcements
could not well be sent to the rebel left for fear of the movement being
now made against their right. The battle on the left was at full height,
and the lines swayed to and fro. Gen. Anderson made a movement around a
skirt of woods near a chapel, and charged the enemy's lines, with sword
drawn, leading his men in person. The assault was of such an impetuous
character as to send dismay into the ranks of the enemy, and they gave
way in confusion. Gen. Horn, however, advanced his left and center
farther to the front than should have been done without other troops
being in position to sustain the movement, and the rebel center, with
their left reformed behind the woods, fell upon Horn's left and center
with great energy and determination. The two columns now engaged with
dauntless courage on both sides. The combatants, equal in mettle, faced
each other in open field at very close range; each holding his ground
until it appeared as though none would be left alive on either side.
Neither line wavered, and it seemed as though the contest would only be
determined by a complete demolition of the two forces. Gen. Horn fell,
mortally wounded, and the command fell upon Gen. Simmons, who was killed
soon after taking command. At this time the killed and wounded of the
superior officers were such that it left Gen. Anderson the ranking
General of the corps. He at once assumed command, and could everywhere
be seen giving his orders and encouraging his men to stand. This they
did until the slaughter on both sides became a shocking sight to behold.

“Gen. Hughes and Gen. Baily had fallen on the rebel side. The batteries
from our side were playing from a hill on the east side of Antler's Run,
pouring a galling enfilading fire into the rebel Une. Thus these lines
stood amid death and desolation in their ranks until the men themselves
on both sides, in order to stop the cruel slaughter of comrades, with
one accord ceased firing, and the officers sat on their horses looking
at each other as their forces slowly retired each to his rear. At this
time, if Gen. Far-lin had moved forward the day would have been won
without further slaughter. Gen. Anderson repeatedly sent word to him
that if he would attack the enemy he could be routed, as their left was
almost destroyed; but he did not assault at the opportune moment.

“It was then seen that nothing more than skirmishing had been going
on between the forces on the Union left and the rebel right. Gen.
Broomfield had not succeeded in crossing the run, and was held at bay by
a small force, thus enabling the rebel commander, after discovering this
hesitancy on our left, to concentrate on his left and center for the
purpose of renewing the conflict. His re-enforcements had now arrived
from Brown's Ferry, and he was eager to make an assault, being now
satisfied that he should take the aggressive. Our batteries had crossed
the run, and were supported on elevated ground by sufficient infantry,
as we thought, for their safety. The rebel forces moved from their cover
behind the woods, and were advancing to the crest of the ridge that ran
across the open field from north to south, the best position to occupy
for vantage ground. Gen. Anderson seeing this, determined to meet the
attack and contest for this ground. Both forces were now in motion, each
determined the other should not occupy this ridge. Orders were given to
Gen. Broomfleld to cross the run at once and attack the enemy's right.
Gen. Mausker was ordered to move on the left of Gen. Horn's Corps,
now under Gen. Anderson, and attack at once; Farlin being in reserve,
perhaps, because he could not be got anywhere else.

“The artillery was all across the run and ready for action. The cavalry
had crossed some miles above and to the north, and were ordered to
charge the enemy in the flank as soon as the engagement should be
renewed. So on came the troops of both armies, and when in close range,
the firing commenced again on our right and the rebel left, it continued
all down the line until all were engaged. The firing was terrible and
most destructive. Our batteries opened, and on in full charge came our
cavalry. The rebel infantry on the left prepared to receive the cavalry,
kneeling on one knee with fixed bayonets. What a charge that was, and
what a slaughter! On came the cavalry; on, on to the bayonet came horse
and man. Clash against bayonet came saber. Many the horse and man went
on and over the bayonet in that charge. Part of the cavalry halted and
hesitated, some retiring to the rear. Many an infantryman that did the
same. Infantry and cavalrymen were piled together in the long slumber of
death. At last our cavalry had to retire. While this tragedy was being
enacted, the infantry on the right, left and centre were also playing
the role of death. Column after column were hurled against each other,
only to be repulsed. Our two corps first drove the enemy back and
occupied the ridge, and for awhile held this advantage, until the whole
rebel army, save a skirmish-line, was withdrawn from the right and
center, and concentrated on and against our right. It looked as though
the contest was now to be continued only on this part of the line.
Farlin was now in line on the left of Mausker. Many of the enemy's
troops were thrown in at this point who, not having been engaged,
were comparatively fresh. Their column was formed in two lines. On and
against our lines in quick succession they were thrown. Another great
slaughter then commenced and continued, line facing line in open field.
Gaps were made by falling men. The command on both sides could be heard,
'Close up!' Never did men stand more courageously amid slaughter and
death. Gen. Anderson rode to the line and along its full length,
sword in hand, with a large white plume in his hat, that his men might
recognize him. Artillery roared and musketry rattled as if they were the
hail and thunder from a hundred clouds. Groans and shrieks were heard.
The ground was strewn with the dead and dying. As the lines finally gave
way, the spot could be designated by rows of the dead. Our line was now
distended and no reserves. The rebels were again re-enforced, Their dash
and desperation broke our center, and Farlin fell back. Gen. Mausker now
fell, shot through the head. His corps became demoralized and fell back
in fragments. Gen. Anderson tried to rally the lines, but could not, and
was compelled to fall back to the rear, where the artillery was posted.
The situation at this time was most critical. The General in command was
desperate. To lose this battle was his disgrace, having more troops than
the enemy, as it would also probably in a measure seal the fate of his
whole army. He at once gave Broomfield an imperative order to cross the
run at the point of the bayonet, and to advance upon and assault the
enemy's position, being his extreme right. This was done in good style,
the enemy driven at the point of the bayonet from the crossing and from
his position on his right. The contest was now changed from the enemy's
left to his right. Troops were thrown in on his right quickly, and the
battle became desperate on this end of the line.

“Gen. Anderson, discovering this, without orders rallied his men and
all others that he could, and made a furious attack again on the enemy's
left, driving him from the open field into the woods. He then ordered
the artillery to advance to the ridge occupied by our line, and
from there poured shot and shell into their ranks. The enemy became
demoralized and broke in many parts of his line, ours still advancing
and Gen. Anderson moving his artillery to the front as he could get
position for it. The enemy on their left commenced a retreat down the
Sheepstown road in great disorder. The batteries poured their deadly
missiles after them, doing great damage. Gen. Anderson pressed forward,
believing that their army could now in a great measure be destroyed
before they could get back to a strong defensive position for
protection. Many prisoners were now being captured. Gen. Broomfleld was
following upon the Brown's Ferry road, when darkness set in. An order
was now received from Gen. McGregor to desist from any further pursuit
for the present. Gen. Anderson put his troops in position for the
night, and ordered up stores and supplies for their comfort and made all
necessary arrangements for an early movement in pursuit of the enemy
the next morning. After attending to these matters he left Capt. Jackson
Lyon and Capt. Bay, both of whom had been by the side of the General
during this terrible battle. The General with an Orderly retired to
the headquarters of the commanding General, which he found in a small
farmhouse some two miles to the east side of Antler's Run. When he
arrived he was welcomed very heartily and highly complimented by Gen.
McGregor.

“The General said:

“'Anderson, we will not attempt to follow these rebels. Our army is worn
out and so terribly damaged and demoralized that it would not do to risk
another assault, should the enemy make a stand, inasmuch as they would
have an advantageous position, which they certainly will, as they can
select where they will fight if we pursue.'

“'Yes,' said Gen. Anderson; 'but, General, could we not press them
so close and worry them so as to keep them on the run, and virtually
destroy them before they can get back to their own ground? You know that
while our army is terribly mangled, the enemy is certainly in no better
condition.'

“'That is true,' said Gen. McGregor; 'but I never have, nor will I ever
fight my army when in bad condition. But we will not discuss the matter
any further now. You will stay and get a bite to eat and take some rest,
but before doing that take a glass of wine.'

“'Thanks, General; I think I would enjoy a glass about this time.'

“After taking a glass together they sat down and had quite a
conversation on the events of the day. The house being very comfortably
furnished with beds and cots, Gen. McGregor said to Gen. Anderson, 'Lie
down and rest while the servants are preparing the supper.'

“The General did so, and dropped off to sleep. Soon some general
officers came in and were seated at a table, imbibing rather freely.
The noise they were making aroused the General from his slumbers. He
recognized Farlin; to the others he was afterwards introduced, being
Gen. Bowlly Smite and Gen. William Cross. The General did not rise, nor
did he, by any means, exhibit any knowledge of their presence.

“In the conversation between these three Generals they were discussing
the probable success of the war and the course of the Administration.

“Farlin said: 'I am very decidedly of the opinion that this war will
last for ten years, and finally the South will gain their independence.
The North will tire out, and the property-holders will get tired of
paying taxes. This war is very expensive, and the debt will eventually
alarm the country, so that they will be ready to accede to anything.'

[Illustration: Anderson overhears the Conspiracy 162]

“Said Smite: 'Well; but what will become of everything? This Government
is not strong enough to stand this strain. It has not power, except it
be usurped, to prosecute the war against these Southern States. I do not
believe in a Republic anyway. We ought to have a government of central
force and power--a military government, or a monarchy, such as England.
Suppose we had such a government as that. We would not be afflicted
every now and then with new commanders that we who make soldiering our
profession know nothing and care nothing about, and cannot allow to be
placed over us when we can avoid it.'

“'Well; but,' said Cross, 'what can we do? That is what we should think
about. For instance, here, to-day, we have won a great battle. It is not
likely that either of us will be put in command of anything higher than
a corps. The command of the different armies will be given to some of
those pets who want to free the niggers; and I was told the other day in
Washington by Mr. Thos. A. Strider, who is one of the ablest men in
this country, that this Abolition President was going to try to set the
slaves free and thereby impoverish the South, so as to force them to lay
down their arms. He said that if this was done he would not be surprised
if Indiana would rise up in revolt.

“'If that be true, I will leave the army myself, said Smite.'

“'No, you are wrong,' said Cross. 'If this is the intention of the
Administration, we ought to organize the army on a better basis than it
now is, have McGregor relieve every one who is not his friend; and
let us urge him to march upon the Capital and there we can install him
Dictator, recognize the South's independence, with the understanding
that they in turn will send their army to the front near to us, so as
to sustain him. We could seize all armories, arsenals and war materials.
The people would then be powerless. England would at once recognize the
South, and if we can maintain ourselves six months, which we can easily
do, the whole of Europe would recognize our government.'

“'Just at this moment Gen. McGregor entered the room and said:

“'Gentlemen, I hope you have been enjoying yourselves. I have been out
to my Adjutant-General's office, dictating my orders for to-morrow. I
hope you have helped yourselves to my sherry and champagne. I had quite
a good lot of it brought on, not knowing how long this campaign might
last.'

“Farlin said: 'General, I would think that the campaign for the present
is almost over; our troops are in no condition for further offensive
operations.'

“'Do you think so?' said Gen. McGregor.

“'Yes; most assuredly.'

“'Yes,' added Smite; 'we are in no hurry; this war cannot be rushed
through; and if this Administration is going to do what I understand it
is, there are some of us who will not submit.'

“'What is that?' inquired McGregor.

“'Free the negroes. We will not stand that. We want you to be up and
dressed. We will put you in place of the Administration, and have the
country governed properly, make peace with the South and stop the war.'

“Gen. McGregor here put his finger to his lips, indicating silence
on their part; and looking in the direction of the bed on which Gen.
Anderson was resting, all became silent on this subject, and commenced
speaking of the quality of the wine. Very soon supper was announced,
and the messenger was told to call Gen. Anderson. The General, turning
over and groaning as if awakening from a deep sleep, arose, and
addressing Gen. McGregor, said:

“'General, I would have slept till morning, without intermission, had I
not been called.'

“'He was then introduced to Generals Cross and Smite, and all repaired
to their elegant meal, and there discussed the occurrences of the day,
the merits of the several officers who had fallen, etc.

“When supper was over, which continued quite late, Gen. Anderson
repaired to his own headquarters, which had been moved up to and in a
depression or cut near Antler's Run, on the east side. There he found
his Adjutant-General, a few darkies, and old Ham.

“'How are you, Ham?' inquired the General. 'Are you still alive? You did
not stay very close to me, to-day, so that you “might be safer,” did you
Ham?'

“'No, Massa Tom. When you fust start out, I was gwine long wid you, but
you lef me, and den you said nuffin 'bout me comin' wid you, and I spose
you not kear 'bout habin me bodderin' you. Dat's all how it war, Massa
Tom.'

“'Yes, Ham, I see. Well, it is all right. You stay with the headquarters
and take care of my traps, and I will not ask you to take command of my
troops in time of battle.'

“Ham laughed one of his peculiar guffaws.

“'Yah! yah! Massa Tom. I speck dat is de bes' way. Doz you want sumfin
to eat? Got plenty of chicken. Dey git skeered at de fitin', and jes'
cum rite to de camp, sah. Yes, sah, dey am 'fraid of de Sesh, dey is;
dey know der friends, dese chickens do.'

“The General laughed, saying, 'Ham, are you quite sure they came into
camp alone?'

“'Well, sah, dey got in heah some way. I not fotched dem in. De fuss I
seed dem, dey in de corner ob de tent all scrouched up, so I spose dey
hidin' from de Sesh, and I jes' took 'em in to sabe dem. Yes, sah; dat's
de way it war.'

“Ham retired behind a tent, and laughed immoderately, saying 'I spect he
not keer bery much; I feels my way pretty good, I does.'

“The troops rested during the night, and next morning there were no
rebels in sight, and they were ordered into camp, and no further pursuit
of the enemy contemplated by the commanding General. They, however, were
soon required in another direction, for the purpose of protecting the
Capital of the Nation. Gen. Anderson's old wound re-opened, which caused
him to turn over his splendid command. At the suggestion of his surgeon,
he with his two Aides-de-camp and old Ham, returned to Allentown until
such time as he could again recover sufficiently to perform his duty.
The President hearing of his skill in maneuvering troops, and his
gallant conduct on the battlefield, at once promoted him to be a
Major-General.

“Their return home, of course, made our family very happy again--only
marred by the continued severe illness of Dr. James. He had lingered
for months, sometimes improving, and then again suffering severely. He
seemed to revive and gain strength on the return of his friends. Capt.
Day took up his abode at Young's Hotel, and Capt. Jackson remained at
home with us. Peter returned in a few days, his foot being in a very bad
condition, he fearing that an amputation might become necessary without
great care and immediate rest. Thus our family were once more partly
together, and although some were suffering greatly, we enjoyed the
recital of the battle of Antler's Run, by both Capt. Jackson and the
General The story of his lying on the bed and hearing the suggestions of
a conspiracy by the superior officers of the Army of the East, caused
me serious reflection. The details of this conversation he gave me in
confidence, having never revealed it even to his staff officers. I at
once repaired to the Capital, and saw the President and Secretary of
War, and stated to them the whole of the conversation and the proposed
scheme. They were almost dumbfounded. The President thanked me saying:

“'I have now declared the slaves free. We will see what we will see.'
“He then remarked:

“'I have my eye on the man the Lord I think is raising up in order to
complete the work we have begun. These men must be held in our hands
until the right time arrives;' which he thought would not be very long.

“The Secretary of War was not so mild. Under a promise that I would still
prosecute my inquiries further into Canada and elsewhere I left for
home. On my arrival I found the Doctor much worse, and the family
greatly distressed. He lingered but a few days and passed away. You
can see our household was again in deep gloom. I will not speak of our
grief. We were a sorely stricken family.”




CHAPTER X.

     BATTLE OF MURPHY'S HILL.-THE MOST SANGUINARY FIGHTING OF THE
     WAR.---MURDER OF STEPHEN LYON.--UNCLE HAM GETS A STRONG
     DISLIKE TO WAR.

     Generals 'gainst Generals grapple gracious God,
     How honors Heaven heroic hardihood!
     Infuriate, indiscriminate in ill,
     Kindred kill kinsmen, kinsmen kindred kill,
     Labor laid levels, longest, loftiest lines;
     Men march 'mid mounds, 'mid molts, 'mid murderous mines,
     --FINLEY

“After the lapse of considerable time Gen. Anderson whether or not he had
recovered sufficiently to again take the field. His staff officers and
his wife were protesting that his strength was not sufficient.

“I said: 'Well, we will consider this matter at another time.'

“Aunt Martha called us; we all walked in and sat down to tea, Capt. Day
with us, having been with Gen. Anderson almost daily since his return.
While at the table my wife spoke of the absence of Stephen and Peter,
wishing them with us, and again alluded to her dream, saying that she
had dreamed it all over again last night, and that she thought there
must be some kind of a warning to her in it.

“Just at this moment I discovered old Ham standing in the corner very
much absorbed in counting his fingers. He seemed to be considerably
bothered, however, in making up the proper count. Aunt Sarah discovered
him, and said:

“'Ham, what are you doing?

“'Ham saw that his manner caused my wife (Aunt Sarah) to be disturbed,
and the old fox (for he was very sly) said: “'es, missus, I's--I's jes'
seein'w many is here, and how many dey is wid de oder boys what goed
away, so dat I know how many you is when you'uns is all togedder. I tell
you, dis am a big family--dat's all.'

“Old Martha, who was attending the table, spoke to Ham in her usual way,
saying:

“Ham, you jes' git out, you ole fool; go to de kitchen, whar you
belongs.'

“When Ham left we finished our tea, but Aunt Sarah showed plainly that
she was very much troubled. She soon retired for the night, and the rest
of us conversed about the situation and Gen. Anderson's condition;
he claiming that he was strong, the rest of us to the contrary. We
concluded to settle it for the present by visiting the farm the next
morning, which e did, taking Ham with us as driver of our wagon. When
we arrived Joseph Dent invited us all into his house, and while making
inquiries of him as to his health, the condition of his stock, etc., a
man came to the gate and called for him. When he returned he said that
this man was notifying him that he must come to a meeting that night of
the Golden Circle; that the Circle had some very important business on
hand. We encouraged him to go, and to report to us at Allentown the next
morning. Bent consented, saying that the Circle had been exceedingly
active; that an agent had been there from Canada and had required them
to make a selection of agents of their Circle to be ready to do some
particular work, which would be explained at the proper time. He also
gave us the names of two men, one of whom resided in Allentown. This
caused us to think seriously about the danger that we might be in, as
men coming from Canada might discover us in some way and afterwards
recognize any of us who should be in that country prying into their
designs. We left for home, and on the way noticed that Ham was unusually
quiet, but watchful. Finally, he concluded that it was his time to
speak, and turn ing to Gen. Anderson, said:

“'Mssa Gen'l, did you see dat man out at de barn, sir?'

“'No,' said the General.

“'Well, sah! dat was the wussest lookin' Sesh I eber did see. He war
lyin' in de hay, and when he look at me I lef; yes, sah, I lef. Somefin
wrong dar, sah. You better ax Massa Joseph, when he be down to de house,
'bout dat.'

“We satisfied Ham by agreeing to find out on the next day; so we came
home, and were sitting on my portico talking about what was best to do,
when the General received a dispatch from Washington, stating that
Gen. Rosenfelt, commanding the Army of the Center, had asked for Gen.
Anderson to be assigned to him, which would be done whenever he was well
enough to take the field. The General was somewhat disappointed, as
he wished to return to the Army of the East, for reasons that you can
understand from what occurred in his hearing while at Gen. McGregor's
headquarters. He was a true soldier, however, and said not a word, but
promptly telegraphed, thanking them for the assignment, and saying he
would report very soon. He felt that he would be able to attend to duty
without very great danger to himself; so he directed Capt. Jackson, as
we now called him, to get ready, also Capt. Day, who had come in a
few moments after the receipt of the telegram. The young men seemed
particularly well pleased. Capt. Jackson felt that he would be
with Peter and Stephen. Stephen had been promoted and was now a
Brigadier-General. So all seemed pleased, though I knew how Gen.
Anderson felt.

“The General sent a telegram to Gen. Rosenfelt, who was then encamped
between Nashua and Stone Run, Tenn., informing him that he would start
for his headquarters in about two days. He did not get away, however, as
soon as he stated.

“The next day Joseph Dent came, and was greatly delighted at something.
So we gave him a seat and cleared the decks, as you must know that
these secret matters about how information was obtained of which we were
coming in possession, other than in the ordinary course of things, was
not told to the whole household. Before proceeding, however, we asked
him to tell us who was in the barn at the farm the day before, that had
so alarmed Ham. He laughed and said it was his partner; so we dropped
further inquiry, but did not tell Ham.

“Joseph Dent said he attended the Circle the night before, as he had
promised, and that they were in great trouble. They had been advised
that the agents would not be needed for the present; that some scheme
that was on foot had been postponed, and that a consultation was to be
held in order to come to an understanding as to what course was to be
pursued. He said a man who was a stranger to him stated that two of
their principal men who were to carry out the scheme (whatever it might
be) had been sent to Europe, and that this left them in a condition so
that they could not proceed until they could work up their plan; that
their plan or scheme was being matured by the men, who were to obtain
their material in England; that it could not be done here without
suspicion being aroused. This, he said, was all that was said or done.
So you see, this meeting evidently had reference to some desperate
undertaking, of which their leaders in Indiana seemed to be posted as
to the fact that something was to be done, without knowing the details.
This proved to us that they had communication one lodge with another
all over the country, and also with the heads of the conspiracy,
and therefore we would have to take every precaution in all of our
movements; but as we acted only through persons that we could trust with
our lives, we considered the matter comparatively safe, and were very
sure that we would be able to post the President at all times as to what
might be danger in the way of our success.

“The next day, when the family were informed that the General, Capt.
Jackson and Capt. Day must leave us, our house again became a scene of
distress. My wife cried all day long. Mary Anderson was nearer breaking
down than I had ever seen her since we heard that the General (then a
Colonel) was killed at Dolensburg. Jennie also nearly gave way. The two
children begged them most piteously not to go away to fight (as they
termed it) any more.

“Ham seemed rather serious, and did not relish the renewal of his
acquaintance with the Sesh, The next morning, all matters being
arranged, the General and his two aides, with old Ham, after taking
leave of all the family, left. The scene that followed in my household I
will not attempt to describe. Ham lingered a little behind, but finally
he embraced Aunt Martha, and said:

“'Good-by, Marfa; I guess I'se a gone darky dis time. I tell you I do
not like de dream what I had.'

“'Go long, you ole fool; dreams 'mount to nuffin. You eats too much
cabbage las' night. Dats all what ails you. Dar's no danger you git
kill. You jes' go long wid Massa Tom. Dat's what you do.' “'All right,
Marfa, I do it. Good-by.'

“They arrived at Gen. Rosenfelt's headquarters (which were with his
army) and reported. Gen. Rosenfelt was very glad to see the General, and
told him that he would assign him to the command of a first-class
division under Gen. Papson, his army then being divided into three full
corps, commanded respectively by Papson, Gen. Critsinger and Gen.
McCabe. His army numbered, embracing all arms of the service, some
56,000 effective men, and was well supplied with all necessary material
for any kind of movement.

“On the next morning Gen. Anderson was assigned to the command of such a
division as mentioned. He was well pleased with his corps commander, who
was a fine-looking man of middle age, very quiet and unostentatious. The
whole army seemed to be in splendid condition for a campaign. On looking
through his division that day he found Stephen Lyon in command of his
Third brigade, and Peter in command of one of Stephen's regiments. This
delighted the General, and he quickly said to Capt. Jackson:

“'Gen. Rosenfelt and Gen. Papson both being old friends of Uncle Daniel,
I suspect one of his letters might be found amongst the papers of both
Rosenfelt and Papson.' “'Capt. Jackson laughed and said:

“'Well, father has nothing else to do except to keep the President
posted and look after his children, which he faithfully does.'

“'Yes,' said Gen. Anderson; 'he does his duty in all respects.'

“That afternoon Gen. Stephen Lyon and Col. Peter Lyon (being their
respective rank at that time) visited Gen. Anderson's headquarters, and
of course enjoyed themselves, each thanking the good fortune that had
brought them together. They discussed the situation, and Stephen was
decidedly of the opinion that unless we advanced at once and gave battle
that the enemy would do so, and the position we occupied not being a
favorable one for defense, he thought we could force a battle where our
position would be better.

“The enemy at this time were also in good condition, and were commanded
by Gen. Biggs, with three full corps, commanded respectively by Gen.
Polkhorn, Gen. Chatham and Gen. Harding. Biggs's command was disposed
as follows: Polkhorn's corps and three brigades of Harding's were at
Murphy's Hill; the remainder of Harding's corps to the southwest some
twenty miles, forming the left flank; the remainder of Biggs's army
lay some twenty miles to the south and east; on and in advance of his
extreme left was one division on the Nashua and Franktown road. In this
position lay the rebel army, in easy supporting distance to the center
and main line, it having been selected by Biggs as a good position on
which to make his stand against.our forces, his outposts being ordered
to fall back should our forces advance. The position was a good one, as
it forced our army to cross Stone Run in his front in any direction that
our troops might approach him.

“During the evening a lady came to our picket line and asked to be taken
to Gen. Rosenfelt's headquarters. This was done. When she appeared, Gen.
Rosenfelt recognized her as Mrs. Lotty Houghton, who had been employed,
it seems, by Jardine, Marshall & Co., northern manufacturers of cotton
goods, to purchase cotton and get it through our lines. They had a
permit to do so from the Treasury Department of the United States, and
it seems she was quite successful as one of the agents. The enemy were
eager to sell their cotton and our people anxious to get it. She went
to and fro with passes from both sides, neither believing she could
give any information that would be of importance to either side.
She, however, was an exceedingly bright woman, who noted in her mind
everything she saw or heard. She was as true and as loyal to the Union
as any commander we had. She asked the General for a private interview,
and gave him the position of the enemy, as I have before stated. This
was the only certain information he had up to this time as to their
exact position. She also told him that the reason she came to him
now was that all the enemy's main force of cavalry were gone. That of
Morganson and Forester were far away on raids, and would not be able
to return in time to aid in a battle, should Gen. Rosenfelt feel like
assuming the offensive. She proposed to him that she would go to Nashua
and from thence down the Franktown road, pass through the lines of
the enemy, and come in their rear to Murphy's Hill, where she was well
known; remain there quietly with a lady friend, and when she discovered
anything that she considered absolutely important, she would get
through the lines some way and come to him with the information. He was
delighted at this proposition and said to her:

“'You shall be well rewarded for this.'

“She said, in reply:

“'No, sir; you mistake me. I am no spy! I give this information
because it comes to my knowledge without my seeking it, and not in any
confidence. I do this for the good of my country, and not for reward.'

“The General bowed and applauded her devotion to her government. She
then bade him good-by and left for Nashua, refusing an escort.

“Gen. Rosenfelt sent for his corps commanders that evening, and
explained the situation as he understood it. After examining the map and
showing his officers the manner he desired an assault to be made, should
he determine to attack, all agreed that there was no cause for delay.

“The troops were in fine condition and 'eager for the fray.' The General
commanding told them to be ready to move at 'o'clock in the morning. He
would send them written instructions in the meantime. So he prepared his
orders and sent them out. First, his headquarters would be with those of
Gen. Papson's corps; that the army would march by three different roads,
leading from Nashua in a southerly direction. Gen. McCabe, with his
command, would march on the Franktown road; Gen. Papson, with his
command, being the center, on the Nolton and Shell-town Road; Critsinger
on the Murphy's Hill road. McCabe was to assail Harding's forces on his
road; but if Harding should fall back on the main rebel line, in that
event McCabe and Papson were both to bear to the left, so as to present
an unbroken front or line at or near Stone Run, opposite Murphy's Hill.
The movement commenced the next morning, but not so early as directed.
During the march McCabe ran against Harding's pickets, when a skirmish
began. The rebel forces fell back on their main line. Gen. McCabe was
delayed for some reason and did not reach Harding's main position that
day, but on the next. And when he did arrive, Harding had left and was
far away on his road to join Bigg's main force. The rain was now falling
in torrents, and Papson and Critsinger were troubled to get their trains
through the mud over very poor roads. When Gen. Rosenfelt's forces were
finally concentrated he was compelled to rest one day, he thought, in
order not to engage the enemy with his army in a tired and worn-out
condition.

“The enemy had to march about the same distance, however, in order to
make their concentration of forces. The ground over which the battle
must be fought lies between Stone Run and Overman's Creek; it is
slightly rolling ground, with sticky, clayish soil, in which the roads
are tortuous and easily worked up by teams so as to become almost
impassable. There were clearings on this ground, but they alternated
with a chaparral that was almost impenetrable. There are three roads
through this valley, between the two streams, which converge on Murphy's
Hill.

“Rosenfelt, after resting, formed his line with McCabe on the right,
Papson in the center, and Critsinger on the left, leaving Stone Run
between the enemy and himself. One or the other must cross this stream
sometime and somewhere during the engagement, in order to attack his
opponent. There is much in the first assault if made with decision. In
the evening, just before dark, one of McCabe's brigades struck one of
Wittington's (rebel) brigades. The contest was a severe one, in which
our forces were damaged very much. This ought to have proven that the
enemy were intending to cross the run and strike our right flank. But it
did not seem to disturb our commander in the least. That night Rosenfelt
laid before his corps commanders his plan of attack, which was to throw
his left across the run and attack and drive the rebel forces from
Murphy's Hill, and get between the hill and the enemy, and use the high
ground for artillery on the line and flank of the enemy; at the same
time strike him in the center with Papson, leaving McCabe to merely hold
his line to resist and not to attack.

“This being understood, all were to be ready the next morning to carry
out the plan of the battle laid down by the General commanding. During
the day Mrs. Lotty Houghton heard directly from one of the rebel
officers that they were to move that night all their available forces to
our right and attack us on our flank in the morning. So she concluded to
leave that day, in order to be out of the way of the battle, and started
south. After traveling several miles outside of the enemy's lines,
she cut across to the west and took the road leading from Nashua to
Pulaston. Traveling on that for some distance she struck across to the
road from Nashua to Murphy's Hill, following that until she came to our
pickets, and there asked to be shown to Army headquarters. She got in
very late, and the Sergeant made a mistake and took her to Gen. Papson.
He did not know her and was rather suspicious. She told him of the
movement of the enemy. He took her into his headquarters and sent out
to find Gen. Rosenfelt. But he could not be found. He was out somewhere
looking after his lines. This caused delay. He was not found until
morning, and then not until after the movement had commenced on his
left. Critsinger was crossing the run in front of Murphy's Hill. When
Gen. Rosenfelt was informed that Mrs. Houghton was in our lines, and of
her statement made about the enemy, he said:

“'It cannot be so. Biggs cannot suspect our movement. But even so, I
will crush his right, which he has left exposed, and carry out my plan
before he can do anything.' Gen. Rosenfelt superintended the crossing
of the run in person. He saw the moment approaching when he could throw
himself with a vastly superior force upon the isolated division that
Gen. Biggs had left at the hill--the rest of Biggs's command having
crossed the run to his left. At this juncture skirmish firing was heard,
and in a very short time sharp musketry burst forth on our extreme
right.

“At once Rosenfelt questioned in his mind, could Biggs have guessed the
movement by which he was menaced? Was he endeavoring to forestall it, or
was this one of those encounters between pickets? Or had Mrs. Houghton
brought to him the correct information? He at once sent to have her
brought to him. But she had left for Nashua on the turnpike road, so as
to be out of the way, as well as out of danger. Very soon the facts were
revealed to him, when too late, however, to retrace his steps. There
was nothing left but to attack the isolated force at once, as McCabe
had stated that he could hold his position against any force that might
attack him. The battle had commenced on his right, and the rebels were
pressing forward and gaining very great advantage. Our forces were taken
completely by surprise on our right--the soldiers were in their tents,
the officers scattered; the Chief of Artillery was at the headquarters
of Gen. McCabe; the artillery horses had been taken to water, and in
the great haste to get under arms each regiment formed in front of their
tents. On came the rebel division, pouring a terrific fire into our
ranks, advancing at every discharge, and loading as they came. Our
artillery was mixed up and the portion of it that could be got into
position was operated in vain. The two forces came together and fought
hand to hand amid a musketry fire that struck friend and foe alike. Gen.
John's brigade held their ground manfully, but could not long withstand
the impetuosity of the attack and the superiority of numbers. Their line
broke in several places, and the batteries, deprived of horses, fell
into the hands of the enemy. Gen. Willis's brigade was totally routed
and he made a prisoner. Kirkham's brigade was broken to pieces and
routed. The first assault did not last long, but was extremely damaging
to our forces. Thus attacked, our lines were falling back in the
direction of Overman's Creek, when Lawting's rebel cavalry fell upon
their flank, capturing many prisoners, guns, and much camp equipage.
Polkhorn now assaulted Gen. Davies' division with two fresh divisions.
Davies repulsed the first assault, but was struck in flank by Clayber,
which forced him back. Potter's brigade was by Clayber entirely
dispersed. By this time our right flank had been broken and driven back
on Hospital Hill, and finally from there.

“The rebel cavalry then came charging down, capturing many prisoners.
Our wagon trains, ammunition and rations were only saved by the action
of one regiment of our cavalry charging the rebel flank and forcing them
back. News reached Rosenfelt that his right was completely routed. He at
once countermanded his order to attack with his left, and moved to the
right in order to save a great disaster and perhaps his army.

“In the meantime Biggs was preparing to attack the center, and on came
one of his divisions in double column and struck the troops of a general
who was in waiting to receive them (Gen. Sherlin). The attack was quick
and terrible, but they were rolled back, attacked in turn, and the rebel
loss in one brigade was one-third of its force. Gen. Sull, one of our
brave officers, here lost his life while leading a charge. Rosenfelt and
Gen. Papson now commenced forming a new line, which had to be done under
a heavy fire, as the battle had extended down to and on the center.
Sherlin had fallen back to form on the new line. Rosen felt had become
excited, and was riding over the field with his hat off, ordering
everything he came to--batteries, regiments and companies. Papson, who
was always cool and calm in battle as on dress parade, had his corps
well in hand, and ordered Gen. Anderson, who was on his right and
adjoining Sherlin, to receive the enemy and give him the bayonet. There
had been a cessation of fighting for an hour, and the broken troops
had commenced to re-organize and get into line. Biggs, seeing that
postponement would not do, ordered up the division from Murphy's Hill,
and again the battle commenced with renewed vigor. Sherlin was assailed
first by Polkhorn. Gen. Anderson now seeing his chance, moved quickly to
Sherlin's support, and with a dash struck one of Polkhorn's divisions
in flank, and almost annihilated it. One of his brigades, Stephen Lyon
commanding, was ordered to charge against another division. This was
handsomely done, and the rebels fell back rapidly. At this time Biggs
came into the fray, and led back his broken brigades in person, but they
fared the same as before. In this assault Sherlin lost his other two
brigade commanders, and had his troops somewhat demoralized for a time;
but they soon recovered and the attacking commenced on our side. Our
lines were moved forward and the battle was furious; first an advantage
was gained on the one side and then on the other. At last our men became
encouraged and were fighting with a firm conviction that we were gaining
ground and driving the enemy back. During an hour of hard stand-up
hand-to-hand fighting, officers and men fell like the leaves of Autumn
after a bitter frost. Night then closed in, leaving the two armies
facing each other.

“A profound silence prevailed during the night, interrupted only by
the groans and the shrieks of the wounded and dying, after a constant
strife, which had lasted for ten hours. No more sanguinary struggle for
the length of time was ever witnessed. During this day there was not a
single regiment of our troops that had not been more or less engaged.
The enemy's cavalry had crossed the run below our army and captured
and destroyed a great quantity of our provisions, ammunition, etc. That
night no rations were distributed. The poor boys gathered around the
campfires and anxiously inquired about missing comrades, and what of the
day to-morrow. Many of the soldiers thought our army surrounded. Three
of our Generals had fallen during the day, and many thousand poor
soldiers were killed, wounded and captured.

“That night Gens. Anderson and Sherlin met for the first time, and in
talking over the morrow both agreed that they would die on that ground
or win the battle, and they infused this same determination into all
they met.

“Biggs thought that Rosenfelt would retreat during the night. He could
not believe that he would undertake to maintain himself in the position
in which he bad been forced. He thought that he had only to wait until
morning to gather the fruits of a great victory. He was mistaken. The
next morning he found the Union forces in a compact line skirting the
timber, with hastily thrown-up earthworks. If Rosenfelt had made his
movement, on the information given by Mrs. Houghton, earlier in the day,
instead of the afternoon, he would, perhaps, have met with no disaster.
But the next day, when he found that Biggs did not attack, he determined
to do so. He made the same movement that he began the day before, and
was driven back in his first attempt to take the hill. He then began a
general assault, and retook all the positions lost the day before. The
loss of the enemy was very heavy, and the victory of the second day
was complete. Gen. Anderson moved out with his division by the side of
Sherlin, and the two seemed to vie with each other as to which could
face the greatest danger. The rebels lost two Generals, killed that day.
In the two days' fighting the losses on both sides were most serious.
In the evening, after the battle was concluded, as General Anderson was
riding over the field near Hospital Hill, he discovered a rebel officer
leaning against the root of a tree. There were two rebel soldiers with
him. He was very pale, and not able to speak in louder tones than
a whisper. The General dismounted, giving his reins to his orderly.
Approaching the group, the two soldiers arose and said:

“'General, we surrender.'

“The General replied:

“'That is not my purpose. I do not come to make prisoners, but to know
if I can be of any service to this wounded officer.'

“As the General spoke, the wounded officer said, in a whisper:

“'Tom, is that you?”

“'Yes,' said the General, reaching out his hand to Capt. Whitthorne, in
whom he recognized his wife's cousin.

“Capt. Whitthorne took his hand and said:

“'I am dying. I want you to tell cousin Mary that I have never forgotten
her; I love her, and wish I could see her now. We will not speak of our
differences now; the approach of death softens our hearts. You are a
brave man, Tom. I am proud of you, even as an enemy. When I die, as I
will in a few minutes--I can only last a little while--will you bury me
just where I fell? There is the spot,' looking over his left shoulder
and asking one of the men to mark it.

“This exertion caused the blood to flow profusely, as he had been shot
through the lungs.

“In a few minutes he breathed his last. Gen. Anderson had him properly
interred at the place where he requested, and marked it with a headstone
with his name upon it. He wrote to his wife the facts as I have given
them to you. Gen. Anderson never alluded to him afterwards except in the
most respectful terms. When Mary, the General's wife, received a letter
giving an account of her cousin's death, she wept, but said nothing.

“But to return to the results of the battle: Biggs retreated and left
the field to Rosenfelt, who concluded to go into winter quarters
instead of making pursuit. He said it was necessary that his army should
recuperate. Wishing, however, to cover Nashua, he sent a command out
to the west from Murphy's Hill, on the road to Frank-town. It fell upon
Stephen Lyon's brigade to go. He was quite unwell, but would by this
station have an independent command--his brigade and two regiments of
cavalry and two batteries of artillery--consequently he was gratified
by the order. In marching the command moved slowly, there not being an
urgent necessity for their presence at Franktown. On the second day's
march they halted and had a luncheon at a spring by the roadside.

“Gen. Stephen Lyon was lying on a mattress in an ambulance. When
the command had rested he sent them forward, remaining at the spring
himself, saying to his officers that he would come on after resting, as
he could soon overtake them. H e kept with him only one officer (Lieut.
Curtis), two orderlies and the driver, not dreaming of an enemy being in
that part of the country, as Biggs's army was many miles south of Stone
Run, or rather to the southeast at Tullahoming.

“Col. Joseph Whitthorne (then Brigadier-General), with a detachment
of cavalry, came dashing up. He captured Lieut. Curtis and the two
orderlies and driver, and then asked who the officer was that was
lying in the ambulance. On being told that it was Gen. Stephen Lyon, he
replied:

“'I have sworn to kill him if I ever met him, for sending a spy into my
camp.'

“Stephen was unarmed, and protested that he knew nothing about the
charges alleged against him. But it did no good. Whitthorne ordered
his men to shoot him, and it was done and my poor boy was in this
cold-blooded way murdered by this gang of bushwhackers. My other sons
had his body taken back to Murphy's Hill and buried. I never knew who
murdered him until the war was over.”

[Illustration: The Murder of Steven Lyon 182]

“The old man again broke down and for a time was unable to proceed, but
at last said:

“You can see how the fates were against my family. When the news
was received at home my poor wife could not rally under these
successive blows, and she lay sick for months. I thought she would soon
follow the poor boys. When she did recover it was only partially. She
was never well afterwards.

“After the battle, Gen. Anderson thought he would look up his military
family, as his headquarters had been sent to the rear during the
conflict. Capt. Day and Capt. Jackson were near him all the time, and
were no better posted than the General as to where the headquarters
were. Finally they were found some three miles to the rear. The
orderlies, driver, cook, etc., were found established at the
headquarters; but old Ham, poor old man, was nowhere to be found. A
general search was at once instituted, and finally he jumped up like
a rabbit from some thick underbrush. When he came out he looked all
around, and at last realizing who the parties were that had discovered
him he threw up his hands and exclaimed:

“'Bress the good Laud, and you'uns are not all killed. Afo' de Laud I
never 'spected to see any you good people agin. And heah is Massa Gen'l
Tom, and Massa Jackson and Massa Capt. Day. Well! well! if dis isn't a
sprize to ole Ham.'

“The General said:

“'Ham, how did you get here? What made you run away? I thought you were
going to stay with us.'

“'Yes, sah, I thought so, too; but, sah, de shell, de guns and de bums
dey all come rite down over whar I was, and I not know how to fight. One
ob de mans git me a gun and fix it up, and I git behind a tree and poke
it out and pull de trigger, and bress de Laud it shoot de wrong way and
I fine myself knocked ober away off from de tree. Den I said dis is no
place for dis darkey, and I gits; dats what I does, and I corned along
pretty fas' and I got wid de wagons, and pretty soon de hossmen ob de
Sesh--I b'leves dey calls 'em cabalry--dey come on de run and burned up
de wagons and slashed 'bout and cussed about de Yanks and swared about
de niggers and skeered me out ob my breff. Den I gits in de woods and
creeps under de brush and dar I stay, and sho' you born I thought ebery
one was killed, I wouldn't never come out if you hadn't found me, sho'.
I done thought I neber see Marfa no more. O, bress de Laud, I's hungry
doe.'

“'Well, come along, Ham; I guess I will have to send you home; you seem
not to take to war.'

“'Well, sah! Massa Gen'l, 'spect it be de bes'; for afore de Laud I
feels curous when you is fitin'. Somehow I doesn't jes' feel rite all
de time dey is shootin'. It seems dey would kill a darky jes'as quick as
dey do a white man.'

“'Yes,' said the General; 'why not?'

“'Well, sah, I doesn't know why; it 'pears like dey wouldn't kill the
darkies when we work for dem so long. But de Sesh dey is quar folks dey
is; dey fight doe, don' dey, Massa Tom?'

“'Yes; they fight like other people.'

“By this time they were at headquarters, and Ham got hold of his
namesake and devoured it as a wild beast would have done. Ham was very
serious and finally said:

“'Massa Tom, I guess dey not fight any mo' berry soon, does dey?'

“The General replied that he did not know.

“'Well,' said Ham, 'I guess I stay wid you a while longer. You won't
write home 'bout me gittin' in de bush, will you'uns?'

“'No; if you wish us not to do so.'

“'O, for de Laud's sake! Marfa she d neber lib wid dis darky no mo' if
she know what I do. You won't tell her, Massa Tom, will you?'

“'No, Ham; I will keep it a secret from her.'

“'Well, den, I will try him once mo'. I 'spects I stay here nex' time. I
knows I do. O, I knows de nex' time, sho.'

“All right, Ham; you get around now and get our things together, and
look after my “traps.”'

“'Yes, massa, yes.'

“Ham's conduct and explanations afforded great amusement for the boys
around headquarters for some time.

“Capt. Zeke Inglesby said:

“Uncle Daniel, I did not know before that Gen. Stephen Lyon, who was
murdered at Bethesda Springs, was your son. I know all about his murder.
I belonged to his brigade. That dastardly murder was considered by all
soldiers as one of the most outrageous acts and cold-blooded murders
ever known in civilized warfare.”

“Oh, yes. I grieved over his death very greatly, he being the second
one of our dear boys murdered outright--the fourth dead since the war
began. It chilled the blood of our whole family. The strangest thing to
me was how Gen. Anderson, Capt. Jackson and Col. Peter could restrain
themselves so as not to mention the name of his murderer, in all their
conversations about his death; but, as I said, I never knew who did it
until after the war. I could easily understand the reason for their not
telling the name. Mary Anderson, being his sister, was never told the
facts; nor my wife nor any of us at the time, the boys fearing that
it might cause an unpleasant feeling even to know the fact that a near
relative of one of our family could be such a barbarian.

“I was kept quite close at home for some months with our family, being
their only protection within call. During this time no man ever suffered
more in spirit. I can see it all before me now: my poor wife's agony,
the sorrowing of David's widow, Mary Anderson's trouble, the two poor
little children--their questions about their Uncle Stephen, who killed
him, and why? These questions I could not answer.”

At this point Dr. Adams inquired if Gen. Rosenfelt ever expressed
any regret at not listening to the information imparted to him on the
morning of the battle.

“No, sir; I did not so understand.”

“Uncle Daniel, did you know anything of Mrs. Houghton after this?”

“Yes; she continued to do good service for our cause, as you will learn
hereafter.”

Uncle Daniel here called in Mrs. Wilson. She was a bright and beautiful
woman. He took her in his arms and said to us:

“This dear child and one boy, the son of another of my boys, are all of
whom I can now boast.”

His speech at this point was so pathetic and saddening, that the whole
party were unconsciously moved to tears. His voice trembled, and he
slowly walked out of the room, overwhelmed by the sad memories he had
awakened.




CHAPTER XI.

     THE COURT-MARTIAL.--AT MURPHY'S HILL.--THE TWO OPPOSING
     ARMIES AND THEIR MOVEMENTS.--JAMES WHITCOMB'S TRIAL.--
     SENTENCED TO DEATH AND PARDONED BY THE PRESIDENT.

     “But mercy is above this sceptered sway,
     It is enthroned in the heart of kings,
     It is an attribute to God himself;
     And earthly power doth then show likest God's,
     When mercy seasons Justice.”
      --Shakespeare.

“Gen. Biggs having taken up his position in the angle of the headwaters
of Goose River and Cane's Fork, near Tullahoming, in the midst of a rich
valley, Rosenfelt at once commenced repairing the railroads and throwing
up earthworks near Murphy's Hill, which almost encircled the entire
place. There he remained during the winter and following spring. The two
armies were principally engaged in watching each other, neither being
willing to risk an advance against the other. For several months this
situation continued. The only operations that marked this long period of
inaction on the part of the two armies were a series of small exploits
which were calculated to cause the two armies to degenerate into small
bands, that could only be employed in harassing their enemies. The
rebels got ready, however, and made the first attempt. Gen. Weller, with
a brigade of cavalry, pushed his way up within a few miles of Nashua,
burned a railroad bridge, then descended on the right bank of the
Le-Harp River to the banks of Combination River, and there seized
several of our transports, which were loaded with supplies. He burned
these with all their cargoes. One of our gunboats reached the scene of
action just in time to also become a prey to the flames.

“This act on the part of the rebel cavalrymen in its audacity seems to
have completely paralyzed our mounted troops, and Weller was permitted
to return entirely unmolested. In a very short time, elated by his
success, he concentrated a force of some 3,000 men under Gens. Forrester
and Lawting, with two batteries, within twenty miles of Nashua. Gen.
Rosenfelt, seeing that the rebels were riding all around and about him
with impunity, sent Gen. Davies with one division of infantry, and two
brigades of cavalry commanded by Gen. Minting, in order to hem Weller in
and 'bag him' and take him into camp, as the soldiers would say. Davies
marched from Murphy's Hill to Eagle Cove; Sleeman marched from Nashua
with a division of infantry, upon Tyrone; Minting moved away to the
south by way of Franktown, where the forces were all to close in like
pulling the drawstring of a bag and closing it over your game. But when
opened there was no Weller inside. The next heard of him he had pushed
on far to the northwest, and while our forces were closing in at
Franktown, Weller had again reached the borders of Combination River at
Mariam's Crossing, and appeared before Dolinsburg on the next day. You
remember the great battle fought at Dolinsburg, where Gen. Tom. Anderson
was thought to have been killed, but was found by me in the darky's
cabin?” They answered: “Yes; that could not be forgotten.” “Well,
gentlemen, this place was still commanded by good old Col. Harden. He
had but 700 men all told. The place was encircled by parapets commanding
the ravines north and south. In the center the Colonel had constructed
large earthworks, and mounted thereon one 32-pounder. He also had
a section of field-guns. The rebels lost no time in making their
dispositions, and were ready for the assault. Col. Harden hastily made
preparations to receive the enemy. He placed his women and sick on a
transport that lay at the wharf. That being done, the old Colonel said
to his men: 'Boys, here I will die before I will lower that flag.' and
his command all cheered him, and said 'we agree to that sentiment.'

“Weller was now ready; he ordered Forrester and Law-ting to advance
and attack. But before doing so he thought it would be the more correct
warfare to summon the garrison to surrender. He did so by sending a flag
of truce and demanding a surrender of the fort. Col. Harden inquired
by what authority the surrender was demanded. The reply was that Gen.
Weller demanded it 'in the name of Jefferson Davis, President of the
Southern Confederacy.'

“'Tell Gen. Weller that if Mr. Davis is here in person I will see him;
but if Gen. Weller wants this fort he must take it at the point of the
bayonet. Col. Harden never surrenders to the enemy.'

“This was reported to Gen. Weller, and he remarked, 'We will see.'

“Forrester deployed his command and moved forward up the hill, but as
he galloped up under a heavy fire his loss was severe. The soldiers
who were defending that part of the outer works retreated inside of the
heavy fortifications. A murderous and destructive fire was now opened
upon the enemy from all sides of the works.

“Forrester fell back and formed a new line, and Weller put his whole
force in action. Lawting joined Forrester on the right, and the assault
was made.

“Old Col. Harden said: 'Boys, here they come; let them charge close up
before you fire. Fill that old 32-pounder with bullets on top of the
shell;' and they did.

“So Forrester charged with his men right up to the works. Col. Harden
gave the command 'Fire!' and with one volley from muskets and the old
32-pounder the cavalry retreated in every direction; many horses and men
fell under this terrible fire. Our men leaped out of the works, and with
bayonets fixed charged down against Forrester's men and captured many
of them. Forrester's best Colonel was killed and his command routed and
demoralized. Lawting had captured the Cemetery Ridge, where some of Col.
Harden's men had made a stand, but finding they could not hold it,
fell back into the fort. Darkness here closed in and the old flag still
floated over Dolins-burg. During the night a gunboat came to the rescue.

“The next morning there were no rebels in sight, save killed and
wounded. Dolinsburg was never again assaulted by the enemy during the
war. Col. Harden was a brave man, and dearly beloved by my whole family;
not alone for his bravery, but for his kindness to Gen. Anderson during
his stay at the Colonel's Headquarters.

“Weller was being followed up by Davies, who had finally gotten on
his track. But he took another tack; he moved a short distance, as if
intending to meet Davies, and then suddenly wheeled to the right and
reached Center-town by way of Pinche's Factory, along the line of Goose
River. After fording the river he called a halt at Colesburg. His men
were now worn out with fatigue, and his horses totally unfitted for
further service until thoroughly recuperated. This ended Gen. Weller's
exploits for a considerable length of time. Just then another raider
appeared upon the scene--one Gen. Van Doring, in command of some 5,000
fresh cavalry. This new force gave the enemy courage, and they at once
renewed their former audacity. They were determined to wipe out if
possible the terrible and painful result of their attack upon Col.
Harden at Dolinsburg, and immediately advanced within a short distance
of Rosenfelt's main encampment, drove in his outposts, and threatened
his short Une of communication with Nashua. By this time large
re-enforcements had arrived by way of transports up the Combination
River to Nashua. Sleeman's division had moved forward to the main force
at Murphy's Hill. The General felt that he must rid the country of these
raiders, or his situation would become intolerable. His detachments,
except in large bodies, could not venture out of camp without danger of
being attacked by rebel cavalry. Later on, one day, a report came that
our outposts were attacked and part of them captured within a few miles
of his main army. Rosenfelt was greatly excited to think that with his
force of cavalry--one brigade at Nashua, one at Franktown supported by
a division of infantry at each place, and two brigades at his main
position--the rebels were audacious enough to come in sight of his camp
and menace him. Just at this moment Gen. Sherlin, a small man, but a
great soldier, came into his headquarters and said:

“'General, how would you like to have an infantry commander take one
of your detachments of cavalry and try his hand on Van Doring, who, I
understand, is running round your camp playing marbles on your boys'
coat-tails?'

“'Well, sir,' said Rosenfelt, 'I wish we had some one like old Col.
Harden at Dolinsburg after this fellow Van Doring. Do you think you can
run him back on his own ground?'

“'I will try.'

“'Well, sir, you may try your hand to-day.'

“'All right,' said Sherlin; 'I am now ready, and I want only 1,000 men.'

“The General ordered two regiments to report; they did so promptly, and
were off. They started with Sherlin at their head, and were not long
in reaching Brady's Wood, where the enemy was strongly posted. Without
hesitating for one moment Sherlin attacked them and charged, saber in
hand. The contest was of short duration. The rebels had not seen that
kind of cavalry fighting before. They were soon routed and driven in
great disorder back to and across Goose River. Sherlin returned the next
day with 200 prisoners and a command of encouraged men. This aroused
great jealousy with the cavalry officers, and made him the subject
of many remarks. But he went quietly back to his command of infantry
without any exultation or mention of his victory.

“Gen. Sherlin and Gen. Anderson that evening were speaking of our
cavalry, when Sherlin remarked that they only wanted some one to teach
them how to fight.

“'That is true,' said Gen. Anderson; 'we must obtain consent to go out
and attack the enemy whenever and wherever we may find him. We now have
re-enforcements, our army is fresh and well supplied in all respects.'

“The General commanding finding this feeling existing, and seeing that
his re-enforcements had all come forward and were in camp, amounting to
some 14,000, while Biggs had only received the 5,000 cavalry under Van
Doring, he felt that he could afford to make a forward movement and
attack his antagonist wherever he might be found. So he commenced by
directing that our forces were to make Goose River our line for the
present, by first driving the enemy to the south side of the same, and
if possible force him out of this part of the country.

“Sherlin's division and two brigades of cavalry were to march to Eagle
Cove and thence to Columbiana; Sleeman's division, with other troops,
were to form the center; the left was to move on Shelltown;--the whole
to concentrate on and along the north bank of Goose River. Gen. Corbin,
being in advance on the road leading to Columbiana, met Van Doring at
Spring Hill, and after five hours' hard fighting surrendered his whole
command. When this news reached Rosenfelt, who was still at Murphy's
Hill, it disturbed him much. The troops having now marched for a week
over very bad roads through rain and mud, he directed them to return
to their former positions, 'having accomplished all that the commanding
General desired,' as he said.

“Kentucky was at this time infested with raiders and guerrillas. Gen.
Broomfield, who had about that time been sent to the West to command the
Department of Kentucky, soon cleared that State of these pests.
Their mode of warfare on either side was merely harassing without
accomplishing any great results. Very soon Rosenfelt's troops were again
within his old camp lines, and Forrester commenced annoying him in many
ways. Gen. Papson being at Rosenfelt's Headquarters, in conversation
remarked:

“'If you will allow Gen. Anderson, of my corps, to take command of a
division of your cavalry, and give him instructions that Forrester
must be driven beyond Goose River and kept there, I will guarantee good
results.'

“Rosenfelt readily assented, and the arrangements were made and the
order given. The command started, and by rapid marches came up to
Forrester at a point near Auburnville, and drove him as far as Winter
Hill, a point where the general headquarters of the rebel cavalry had
been for some days. Gen. Anderson charged down upon them with his whole
force in regular old English cavalry style, with drawn sabers. The rebel
cavalry made stubborn resistance, but our force drove them from their
position with much slaughter. They retreated in great confusion, and
were closely pursued and sorely pressed until they were forced to cross
Goose River at different points. The country was now cleared of them for
the present. Gen. Anderson returned with 600 prisoners. This ended the
raids, and our army was not subjected to these harassing exploits again
while it remained at Murphy's Hill. During these many annoyances by the
rebel cavalry our troops were sent after them so frequently and marched
so rapidly, and at times such great distances, that they often became
weary and footsore.

“The day after Gen. Anderson returned from driving Forrester out of this
portion of the country a division of infantry under Sleeman returned
from a very long and circuitous march. On the detail for guard duty that
night was a boy from one of the Michigan regiments, (the 1st Michigan
I think,) who during the night was found asleep on his watch. He
was arrested and taken to the guard-house. The young man was greatly
troubled. He had been a good soldier; had never shirked any duty imposed
upon him. The next day he was reported by Serg't Smith as being found
asleep while on duty. This was a serious matter,--the penalty being
death if found guilty. The report was taken to Gen. Sleeman, and by
him transmitted to Gen. Rosenfelt with a request that he order the
Court-Martial, if one should be decided upon. The General at once
ordered the Court. I never have believed that severe punishments in
the army were productive of good discipline. The best soldiers are the
kindest men, and the most successful are those who inflict the fewest
severe punishments upon their men. The detail for the Court was made and
the charges filed.

“The Court held its sessions at Gen. Rosenfelt's Headquarters. The poor
boy was brought out of the guardhouse in the presence of the Court.
He was 20 years old, very slight, light complexion, light auburn hair,
large blue eyes, delicate frame, and, in fact, looked almost as much
like a girl as a boy. His appearance made a deep impression upon
the members of the Court; great sympathy was felt for him. The
Judge-Advocate asked him if he had any objections to the Court, which
was composed of officers from Gen. Sleeman's Division, with Gen. Sleeman
as President of the Court. The boy answered that he had no objections;
'for,' said he, 'I do not know any of the officers. I know but few
persons in the army. I know only my messmates. I am not acquainted with
any of the officers of my own company. I know their names, but have no
personal acquaintance with either of them.'

“'Do you never talk with any of your company officers?' inquired the
Judge-Advocate.

“'No, sir,' replied the youth; 'I have never asked a favor since I have
been in the army. I have obeyed orders, and strictly performed my duty
and asked no questions.'

“'Have you any relatives?'

“'Yes, sir; I have an aged father and mother, and one sister.'

“'What was your business before entering the service?'

“'I was a sales-boy in the wholesale dry-goods store of Baldwin &
Chandler, in Detroit, Mich., where my parents live.'

“'Have you written to your parents or sister since your arrest?'

“'No, sir; I asked permission to do so, but it was refused me.'

“Gen. Sleeman, an old man, full of sympathy and kind feelings, on the
impulse of the moment said, 'That was an outrage.'

“The Judge-Advocate reminded the General that such remarks were not
proper in the presence of the Court.

“'Yes,' said the General, 'I spoke before I thought; but the impropriety
of the remark does not change my opinion.'

“The charges were read to the boy, charging him that in this, 'he, James
Whitcomb, a private soldier, was regularly detailed and placed on guard
duty, and that he slept while on post in the face of the enemy, thereby
endangering the Army of the United States.'

“The Judge-Advocate advised the boy to plead 'not guilty,' which he did.

“Just at this moment Capt. Jackson Lyon came along where the Court was
in session, and for the first time heard of this trial. He listened for
a moment and heard the name of the boy mentioned, and it struck him
at once that it might be Seraine's brother. He waited until the Court
adjourned and asked permission to speak to the boy. It being granted, he
ascertained that James Whitcomb was the brother of Seraine, who had gone
South in search of Henry. He told the boy to be of good cheer--to admit
nothing; that when they proved the charge, as perhaps they would, to ask
permission to make a statement, and then to tell all about his march;
the reason for his inability to keep awake, and all about his condition
on that night, and that he, Capt. Jackson Lyon, would look after him;
but not to mention him as his friend, but as one only feeling a sympathy
for him.

“Jackson wrote to me that day all about the case, and thought it was
best that his father and mother should not be made aware of his arrest
and trial, but that I should write to the President all about the case,
and do no more until he (Jackson) should arrive. My son Jackson was a
very cool-headed man, and always did everything in the manner that would
create the least excitement or suspicion. You see, he had a plan in a
moment for the safety of this poor boy.

“Well, to get back. The next day the Court reassembled at 12 o'clock
and proceeded with the trial. The witnesses were sworn. Serg't Smith
exhibited the detail for the guard, as well as the detail from the boy's
company, and the report of the detail to him with James Whitcomb's
name on the same. He then showed the time for the boy's guard-duty to
commence on that relief, and finally, by the Officer of the Guard who
went around with the relief guard, that the boy was found asleep and
did not arouse from his slumber when he was challenged, but that the
Sergeant of the Guard had to shake him quite hard to arouse him. This,
you can see, was very strong and hard to get over.”

“Yes,” said Col. Bush, “that was a strong case. I was hoping to hear
that there was a mistake about it.”

Maj. Clymer said: “Well, I hope he was acquitted. I have slept many
a time on my horse during a hard march, when if I had been placed on
guard-duty I would have gone to sleep in five minutes.”

“So have I,” said Capt. Zeke Inglesby.

“Yes, yes. I have no doubt of that; but it is not the men who commit
acts against law that are always punished, but those who are caught.
These men seemed to think this a terrible crime in this boy, and yet,
perhaps, there was not one of them who could have done differently under
the same circumstances.

“After the witnesses had been heard against the poor boy, he showed
great mental suffering and agony; the disgrace to his parents and sister
was what troubled him so much. His company officers were sworn, and
stated that prior to this no complaint had ever been made against the
boy. That although they only knew him as a soldier, they had always
observed his neatness and soldierly appearance and bearing; they all
thought that the march the two days before and until 9 o'clock the night
on which he was found asleep on post, was calculated to tire out a boy
of his frail organization.

“The Chief Surgeon stated that a boy of his constitution would be very
likely to drop to sleep anywhere after such a strain upon his physical
strength.

“This closed the evidence with the exception of one witness. The boy
asked if he could make a statement to the Court. Some discussion
arose on this point. The Court was cleared, and Jackson said that he
afterwards learned that old Gen. Sleeman grew very angry at the idea
of refusing an innocent boy a chance to say a word in his own defense.
Finally, it was agreed that the boy might make his statement. He arose,
and, with a tremulous voice and much agitation, said:

“'Gentlemen of the Court: I am a poor boy. My life is of no value to
me, and but little to my country. I have risked it several times without
fear or nervousness. For my parents' sake I would like to go through
this war with an honorable record. To take my life would do me but
little harm. I can meet death as a true soldier. But what can this great
Government gain by taking my life? You can inflict ruin, distress and
misery upon an old man and woman, and upon my queenly sister, who is now
going through more perils, if I am correctly informed, than any of us.
I came to the army not for gain. I was getting much more pay without
risking my life, but I felt it my duty to aid in sustaining our
Government. I did not dream, however, that in the event that I should
escape death from the hands of the enemies of our country that, for an
unhappy result entirely unavoidable, my comrades-in-arms would hasten
to make a sacrifice of me. Were I guilty of anything that I could have
avoided, then I would not ask for leniency; but this I could not avoid.
That I slept on my post I will not deny; but I pray you hear my excuse.
It is this: Two days before this offense was committed, we had marched
through rain and mud some twenty miles in pursuit (as it was said)
of Forrester's cavalry. I did not see many horse tracks in the road,
however, and took it that our forces had captured all their horses, and
that the rebels were taking it on foot, as we were.'

“Here Gen. Sleeman laughed, and said _sotto voce_: 'That boy ought to
be put in command of our cavalry, instead of being shot.'

“'The night of this march my messmate, John Martin, a boy of my own age
and my neighbor before coming to the army, was taken quite ill. It
was his turn to be on guard. I took his guard duty that night, and was
entirely without sleep. When not on post I was attending to him, as
he would have done for me. The next day John was not able to carry
his knapsack and gun on the march, and as we had no transportation, I
carried his as well as my own. The burden was very great for me, and
when we arrived in camp I was completely exhausted. John was not able to
stand my guard, and when I told the Sergeant my condition, he would not
excuse me, and gave as a reason that I had no business to carry John's
gun and knapsack, inasmuch as I had no orders from him to do so. I think
the Sergeant would do much better as a General than as a Sergeant. I
may do him injustice, and I would not do that for the world, but I do
believe that he entertains the same high opinion of himself that I do of
him.'

“At which remark old Gen. Sleeman laughed again, and said, so as to be
heard, 'That boy will be a man some day, and, by the eternal, it would
be a crime--yes, a murder--to shoot him.'

“Continuing, James Whitcomb said: 'This, gentlemen of the Court, is
my excuse, no more, no less. I hope that John Martin may be called to
verify my statement.'

“When the boy sat down the whole Court were in tears.

“John Martin was called, and he did verify everything that had been
stated by James Whitcomb. This closed the evidence in the case. The
Court adjourned until the next day at 12 o'clock. When they met they
began the consideration of the verdict. The Judge-Advocate charged the
Court that the evidence was clear and conclusive; that the law fixed the
penalty; that there was no way out of it; they must find the fact that
he did sleep on his post, and that fact being found, the verdict must be
death.

“The Court was two days coming to a conclusion. When they did, my God,
it was enough to make a man's blood run cold in his veins. They found
him guilty on all the charges and specifications, and sentenced him
to be shot to death, with only ten days' respite. The sentence was
approved, and orders given to manacle the boy and double his guard. Gen.
Sleeman raved like a madman, and came near resigning; said if the boy
was shot he would at once resign. As soon as the judgment of the Court
was known, Jackson took a leave of absence for ten days and left on the
train that evening for home. He came, and on his arrival was looking
like a ghost. All ran to him to welcome him.

“He soon assumed his wonted calmness, and talked with his mother, Mary
Anderson and Jennie, as well as the little girls, telling them all about
the army. His mother was still sick in bed over the murder of our son
Stephen; but we all enjoyed seeing Jackson, and were glad to know that
Peter and Gen. Anderson were well. Our family, you will observe, was not
very large at this time. Jackson made Aunt Martha happy by telling her
that Ham was well, and was behaving splendidly.

“'Thank de good Laud for dat. I always 'spects to hear he killed. But
I knows Ham; he am awful coward. He allers runs off when dere is any
danger. I have to look out for dat.'

“Jackson had a full report of the proceedings of the Court-Martial so
far as the testimony and the boy's statement was concerned. He read
the whole statement over to Jennie (David's widow), Mary Anderson and
myself. As he read the boy's statement the two ladies burst into tears.
Mary Anderson arose and walked the floor, looking like a Queen, and
seemingly much excited. Finally she said--I shall ever remember her
words:

“'My God, what does all this mean? Has the great Father forsaken this
family? Four have already lost their lives, and one now suffering in
some loathsome prison if alive; my husband and Peter nearly at death's
door on more than one occasion; Seraine Whitcomb, a lovely girl, with
her only brother in the army (he a mere boy), she leaves her old father
and mother to take the chances of her life through the lines searching
for one of our family, and now her only brother under sentence of death
for what he could not help doing. Capt. Jackson, what do you propose?'

“Jackson replied that some one must proceed to Washington at once, and
that he thought it was not best to let the boy's parents in Detroit know
the facts, they being old people and alone (according to the statement
of the boy), and as the young lady is doubtless searching for Henry, as
we all surmise from her letter to our father, it is certainly our duty
to look after this boy's case ourselves. I have only ten days' leave
from my duty, and therefore brought these papers, thinking that father
might perhaps go to see the President.

“Mary Anderson spoke up at once and said:

“'No, sir; no, sir. Your father will not go. He must not leave Aunt
Sarah in her present condition. I will go; yes, I will go at once. Get
me a ticket, I want no trunk; my satchel will do. I will be off on the
first train.'

“Jennie said, 'Why, Mary, you will not go, will you?'

“'Yes, I am going. I am determined to do so. It is settled; so do not
attempt to stop me.'

“'Well,' said Jennie, 'Uncle Daniel, what shall we do?'

“I replied, 'She is determined on it, and we will just help her to get
off at once.'

“So the ticket was procured and Mary was off with a good-bye, taking
with her a full statement of the case made out by Jackson, also his
letter, and a letter from me to the President. Under the circumstances
this was a painful trip to her--the anxiety as to her success; the fact
that she knew nothing about the family in whose behalf she was enlisted.
She a stranger to the President, how should she approach him? What could
she say to him? Suppose he would refuse to interpose in behalf of the
boy? And a thousand inquiries would come to her mind to annoy her. She
slept none on her way, but finally arrived safely in Washington, and
went directly to the Executive Mansion without stopping to take a
mouthful of food or a moment's repose.

“When she reached the threshold of the mansion she came near fainting;
her courage and strength both seemed to leave her all at once. Presently
her strength returned, and she asked to be admitted. The usher said,
'I will see,' and took her name to the President; also my letter. The
President was alone. She could not speak. The President came forward and
took her by the hand and greeted her most kindly, saying that he almost
knew her; that he knew much of her through me, as I had spoken of her in
connection with her husband. The President said:

“'Your brave husband is so well known to me through my friend Mr. Lyon,
and through his daring on the field, that you would need no introduction
more than that I should know who you are; and I take it that you are on
an errand of mercy, as I am sure you could not be here to ask anything
for your husband, as I would do anything for him, as he knows, merely
for the asking by himself or my friend Lyon.'

“'No, Mr. President; you will never be troubled by me in that way. I am
truly on an errand of mercy and justice'; and here she broke down and
wept.

“When she recovered she said:

“'Mr. President, my errand is to save the destruction of a good family.'

“She then recited the facts as to the two old people, and that Seraine,
the only daughter, was now on an errand of mercy South somewhere.

“The President replied that he remembered giving her a letter at the
request of his friend Daniel Lyon, and said:

“'My dear Mrs. Anderson, there is hardly anything that I would not do
for any of Mr. Lyon's family, as well as Gen. Anderson and yourself;
and, certainly, if to prevent a calamity to such a family as you
describe Mr. Whitcomb's to be, I would do anything that would be proper
and reasonable for me to do.'

“She was very much encouraged by these remarks, and began to feel more
at ease.

“The President, seeing this, asked her many questions about her
husband's health, and also about my family. When she spoke of Stephen's
foul murder, the President walked the floor and remarked:

“'Most diabolical--fiendish.'”

(“Little did he or she then suppose that it was her own brother that had
committed this wicked and cruel murder.”)

“By this time she was so much encouraged that she handed him the letter
and statement of Jackson.

“The President read the letter, and then read and reread Jackson's
statement. Great tears rolled down his bronzed cheeks as he read the
statement. He tapped a bell, and sent for the Secretary of War. The
Secretary soon came, and greeted Mrs. Anderson very cordially on being
introduced. The President asked him to take a seat, and handed him the
statement. He read it, and said:

“'I will at once see if any papers in this case have been forwarded.'

“During all this time imagine the suspense and fears of Mary Anderson.

“The Secretary sent to the Judge-Advocate-General, and found that the
papers had just arrived.

“The President said:

“'Let them be brought to me immediately.'

“When they were placed before him he read them over carefully,
remarking, when he had finished, that they were exactly as stated by
Capt. Lyon. He handed them to the Secretary and asked him to read them,
which he did, and laid them down without a word of comment.

“After some conversation between the two men, the President turned to
her and said:

“'Mrs. Anderson, cheer up, weep no more; your friend shall not be hurt!
Instead of showing himself unworthy of clemency he has proven himself a
noble boy. The kindness which he showed to his messmate and neighbor
boy was enough to have commended him to mercy. He should have been
complimented for his kindness and excused from duty, instead of having
it imposed upon him. You can go home and bear the glad tidings to his
father and mother that their boy shall be saved for a better fate.'

“Mary Anderson, trembling with emotion, said:

“'Mr. President, you are so very kind, sir. But, if you will pardon me,
his father and mother know nothing of their boy's trouble. We kept it
from them, believing it would have caused them great distress. We desire
to keep it from them.'

“'Do you say that his father and mother do not know of this, nor that
you are here?'

“'Mr. President, they are not aware of the case.'

“'Mrs. Anderson, that was very considerate in your friends and yourself,
to keep this from them for the present at least.'

“The President then wrote, with his own hand, a telegram, ordering the
suspension of sentence against James Whitcomb--that he had been fully
pardoned--signed it and sent it to the office with directions that
the dispatch be sent at once. Mary Anderson on her knees thanked the
President from the fullness of her heart. He bade her rise; said he had
done nothing that she should thank him for; that if he had permitted
such a sentence to be carried out he never could have forgiven himself.
He bade her go home and carry the good tidings to her friends. He told
her to give me and my family his kindest regards. She then left with a
light heart.

“She went directly to the train, forgetting that she had eaten nothing
during the day. She returned to us one of the happiest persons that ever
lived, and you may depend upon it that we all shared in her joy. Capt.
Jackson had returned to his command prior to Mary's return from Wash
ington. When we all got through with the family talk and Mary had eaten
her dinner, she gave us a full account of her trip, her agonies and
sensations on meeting the President. She was exceedingly happy in her
details about her trip and her success; but, strange to say, she never
alluded to it again voluntarily, and would, as much as possible, avoid
conversation on the subject when spoken to in reference to it.

“Gen. Anderson had asked that James Whitcomb be detailed from his
regiment and assigned to him as an Orderly at his Headquarters, which
was done. And again all was moving on quietly in the field.”

“Yes,” said Capt. Inglesby, “as I before stated, there would have been
warm times in that camp had they shot that boy. The whole camp had heard
the facts about his helping his comrade, and the soldiers with one voice
said he should not be executed. His pardon was a Godsend to the officers
who were intending to carry out the sentence. During all my experience
(and I was through the whole war) I never knew such a mutinous feeling
in the army as that sentence created.”

Dr. Adams remarked that in all his reading and experience in life there
had not been a female character brought to his notice who had shown the
will, determination and good judgment that Mrs. Anderson had from the
beginning of the war; her fixed Union principles; her determination
to make any and all sacrifices for the cause of her country; her
persistence in hunting for her husband when all others were sure of his
death at Dolinsburg--few women like her have lived in our time. “God
bless her, whether she is living or dead!”

The tears rolled down the old man's cheeks, but he uttered not one word
in response.




CHAPTER XII.

     MORGANSON'S RAID AND BATTLE OF CHEROKEE RUN.--THE REBEL
     CAVALRYMEN WHIRL THROUGH INDIANA AND OHIO.--BEATEN AND
     CAPTURED.--KNIGHTS OF THE GOLDEN CIRCLE CONTINUE THEIR
     MACHINATIONS.

     “If that rebellion
     Came like itself, in base and abject routs,
     Led on by bloody youth, guarded with rage,
     You revered father, and these noble lords
     Had not been here to dress the ugly form
     Of base and bloody insurrection.”
      --Shakespeare.


“After the long-continued idleness of the Army of the Center around
Murphy's Hill, the people began to clamor for a movement of some
decisive character.

“During Gen. Rosenfelt's inactivity, Gen. Silent had moved with the
Army of the West against Gen. Pendleton, who had continued to obstruct
Conception River by holding Victor's Hill, as well as the grand bluffs
below. Gen. Silent had made some of the most wonderful marches and
successes ever known. He had opened ways for the water to flow from the
river into the lands; had cut canals through at different points; had
run the batteries of an hundred guns with his transports laden with
supplies for his army; marched on the opposite side of the river below
Pendleton, crossing his army below the Grand Bluffs in one day and
night; moved out against the enemy, who was in superior force,
cutting loose from his own base of supplies, and fought him in six
hardly-contested battles with victorious results each time, and he
finally succeeded in hemming Pendleton inside his fortifications at
Victor's Hill and forcing him, with his entire army, to surrender
unconditionally.

“The President had also in the meantime placed Gen. Meader in command
of the Army of the East on account of the constant failure of other
commanders during the Spring campaigns. Soon after assuming command
Meador had gained a great victory over the enemy at Gotlenburg, and had
driven him back across Grand River to his own ground. The enemy had
become so encouraged by his victories over our armies heretofore, that
he concluded to try a second invasion of the loyal States.

“The people who desired the success of the Union forces were greatly
rejoiced over the victory at Gotlenburg and in the West by Gen. Silent,
and by them Rosenfelt was constantly urged to do something by way of
giving some activity to his army. But he hesitated and thought the heat
of Summer was too great in that climate for his men to march and endure
the fatigues of a campaign. This was so discouraging to his troops that
many of them sought relief by obtaining a leave of absence and returning
home for a few days. Among those who returned were Gen. Anderson and my
son Peter. When they arrived at home all greeted them with many hearty
welcomes. My wife by this time had so far recovered as to be up a
portion of the day, and the return of the General and Peter seemed to
revive her drooping spirits. The children were overjoyed and Aunt Martha
was as much delighted as any of the family, and repeated her confidence
in the “good Laud's” having saved the General for some good purpose.
Finally she could not restrain herself any longer, and said:

“'Massa Gen'l, what you do wid Ham? Whar is he? I 'spect he be kill and
you done 'eluded you not tell ole Marfa'.

“'No, Martha,' said the General; 'Ham is well. I left him with Capt.
Jackson and Capt. Day to take care of our traps.'

“'Well, dat's all right. I feered he kill.'

“'No, Aunty; he is all right.'

“The next day Joseph Dent came in from the farm and told us he had
learned the night before that a meeting of a few of the leading men
had been held at Windsor, Canada, and that meetings were to be held
at different places in the Northern States by prominent Knights of
the Circle to consider what was best to be done, and also to appoint
delegates to meet somewhere in Canada at a time and place to be
hereafter designated, and that several propositions were being
considered about work which would be undertaken very soon; such as
destroying property, raiding in the North, releasing prisoners, etc.

“This information was of such a character that we deemed it important to
have a full report of what was at the time being done in Canada, as
that seemed to be the base of the enemy's operations for our part of the
country, and inasmuch as Peter had promised James Whitcomb, now Orderly
to Gen. Anderson, that he would go to Detroit and visit his aged parents
and satisfy them of his innocence should they have learned of his
misfortune in having been court-martialed and condemned, we concluded
that this would be an excellent opportunity for him to pass over to
Windsor or elsewhere in Canada and gather what information he could.
This being understood, he left at once, desirous that no time should be
lost during his leave of absence.

“The family being gathered in the parlor that evening, Gen. Anderson
said:

“'Mary, now give us your experience as a visitor at the White House; how
the President appeared to you, etc.?'

“Mary related what had transpired in a modest way, saying in conclusion
that nothing but the feeling aroused in her breast by the outrage that
was about to be perpetrated upon that poor, innocent boy could have
induced her to have undertaken such an expedition. She said she could do
anything except to ask favors. Said she:

“'Tom, my dear, you need have no fears about my ever becoming a lobbyist
in Washington, or a courtier at the White House. I have tried appealing
to the President once, and although successful that time, and treated
courteously and kindly by that big-hearted and noble old patriot, yet I
have hardly recovered from my scare up to this time; and now I do hope
that you will never mention this again, for it does really give me a
palpitation of the heart whenever the subject is alluded to. I am a
coward, I know I am, and am frightened still.'

“'Well, Mary, you did a noble act, and I am the prouder of you for it.'
He kissed her and she sank down in her chair overcome with emotion. We
then changed the subject, and the General entertained us by recitals of
the trials and vicissitudes of the army. We were all enjoying the visit
of the General very much and hoped to have a pleasant time, but a
few days after his arrival the country about Allentown became greatly
alarmed and excited.

“Gen. Morganson, of whom I have heretofore spoken, had crossed from
Kentucky at or near Louis City into Indiana, and was raiding the
country, taking horses, wagons, and all kinds of property that could
serve any purpose whatever in aiding the rebellion or in facilitating
its movements. Stores were pillaged, houses plundered, banks robbed, and
farms laid waste. The people were taken entirely by surprise, and the
only thing that could be resorted to to meet the emergency that was
upon them, was for the loyal citizens along the raider's path before
and behind to assemble and make resistance and obstruction to his march.
Gen. Anderson, comprehending the situation, at once gathered together
a few men and started in pursuit of Morganson. He collected men and
material as he went. He also aroused the people to action everywhere.
Morganson's force was being recruited from the Golden Circle as he
passed through the country.

[Illustration: Morganson's Raid 206]

“That community was never so thoroughly excited before. Many murders
were committed on his line of march, and this one had lost his horses,
that one had his house plundered; this town had been sacked, and in some
instances burned, and so on.

“Gen. Anderson made his march as rapidly as he could with raw men and
horses. He finally struck Morganson's rear and forced him to make a
stand. Gen. Anderson dismounted his men and told every man to cover
himself behind a tree where it could be done. The contest lasted for
about an hour, when a small body of men who had been gathered together
in advance of the raiders, struck him in the rear, as he was then
facing, and caused a great stampede, and his force broke in various
directions through the woods. Morganson turned upon this small force and
drove it back, making his escape. Gen. Anderson followed him up closely,
however, forcing him to change his course in the direction of the river.
Gen. Broomfield had withdrawn a small force from Kentucky, which finally
joined Gen. Anderson. Morganson was preparing to cross the river at a
point near an island, the water being shallow there. Gen. Anderson with
his raw recruits and about 100 of Broom-field's men at once assaulted
him, broke his line, and killed and wounded many of his men as they were
attempting to cross the river. After hard fighting for a few moments
Morganson and those of his command that were still with him surrendered.

“This ended the raiders and their foolish exploits. The men who had
volunteered to follow Gen. Anderson were of all ages and sizes--from the
schoolboy to the grandfather. None of them had been in the army or at
any time seen service, so that they were without any sort of discipline,
with the exception of a few who were at home on furlough from their
regiments, and some of Gen. Broomfield's command. But Gen. Anderson said
that they fought like veterans, each one in his own way. Morganson and
his command were taken to Camp Chase for safe keeping, and Gen. Anderson
returned to Allentown to enjoy the leave of absence interrupted by the
raiders.

“Joseph Dent came in the next morning after Gen. Anderson's return,
and told us that when Morganson entered Indiana on his raid the Golden
Circles were notified, and were getting ready to join him and make war
all over the State, but that he appeared too soon for them; that on
account of his (Dent's) illness he had not been able to advise us
earlier.”

Dr. Adams inquired who this Gen. Morganson was.

Uncle Daniel said: “He was part of Forrester's command, that had raided
around Rosenfelt so much during the previous Winter and Spring. He had
crossed the Combination River to the east of Rosenfelt at Carthage,
moving nearly due south by way of Greenberry, avoiding all points at
which there were Union troops. He doubtless believed either that the
members of the Golden Circle were ready to join him, armed and equipped,
or that his raid would strike consternation into the hearts of the
people, inasmuch as our armies were all far away from where he proposed
to lay the scene of his audacious exploits. But he made a mistake when
he began to take horses and other property from all alike, whether Union
men or rebel sympathizers. This changed the sentiments of many people
very rapidly.”

Said Maj. Clymer: “What has become of Gen. Morgan-son? I have not heard
of him since the war.”

“He was killed somewhere in Tennessee soon after his escape from Camp
Chase, so I have been informed.

“During Gen. Anderson's absence in pursuit of Morgan-son, Peter was
traveling rapidly through Canada. He returned the day following Gen.
Anderson's from his capture of the raiders.

“The people everywhere seemed to be greatly rejoiced at the General's
success. He received a great ovation from the citizens of Allentown, and
they cheered whenever he made his appearance. This caused him to keep
very close to the house, as he was not fond of demonstration. The
people, however, flocked to see him, and many of them could see great
virtues in our family who, prior to that time, did not know us because
we were not good enough for their society. So you see their own safety
was the patriotic spark that burned brightly in their bosoms. But
this is human nature. Selfishness seems to pervade nearly all, as is
evidenced every day. Many of those who wanted the rebellion to succeed
did so not because they were really rebels, but because they had said
that we could not conquer them, and were willing to see our Government
destroyed, merely to get a chance in the future to say to every one, 'I
told you so.' These people now want the Government placed in the hands
of its enemies for the same reason, so as to say, 'You cannot keep the
control out of the hands of such able and brave men as these.' Thus,
you see, it is in many merely a selfish pride of former expressed
opinions.”

“That is a new idea, Uncle Daniel,” said Dr. Adams; “but I am not sure
but there is much in what you say.”

“Yes, Doctor; experience and close observation have taught me many
things that I would have been slow to believe years ago. I am wandering,
however, from what I was stating.

“The next evening after Peter's return we were all at tea and while at
the table Aunt Sarah, my good wife, asked Peter the condition of his
foot. Peter replied that it was nearly well; he did not suffer from it
except occasionally when he caught cold in it.

“'You must be very careful, Peter,' said she; 'I am fearful about it.
You know how your brother James lingered and finally died with a mere
cut on his hand. I was disturbed about your wound last night in my
sleep. I was dreaming about it.'

“'Well, mother,' said Peter, 'you seem to be dreaming something
constantly, and will continue to do so, so long as you allow yourself to
be worried.'

“But Peter ceased speaking on the subject, and his face took the sad
expression that seemed to have fixed itself upon him. I then spoke up to
relieve the matter and said, 'Wife, you must not worry so much. You are
just able to be out, and I fear you will make yourself sick again. Peter
will take care of himself--at least I hope so.7

“Aunt Martha seemed to be listening to our conversation, and (having
been greatly indulged by all our family on account of marked kindness to
Gen. Anderson as well as to all the rest of the family) here chimed in
and said:

“'Marsa Lyon, I tells you dat you is wrong on dat pint. De mans don't
know how to take kear of demsefs. Now, dars Ham. He's like to get kill
any day, he am. He don't know nuffin, he don't.'

“Gen. Anderson and Peter laughed when she spoke of Ham getting killed.
Peter seemed to lose for the time-being his sad countenance, when he
remembered about Ham getting under the brush at Stone Run.

“Aunt Martha knew nothing about Ham's precipitate retreat during the
last battle, so she continued by saying:

“'Jes' see, Massa Tom, de Gen'l dar. Whar he bin if he lef wid de mans
when he got shotted at dat fight at Dolins-burg? He done bin dead sho.
Dars whar he bin. I tell you de good Laud know who he trus' him wid; yes
sah, he do. So he put him wid me and den he make my ole head cifer out
de cures what fotched him out. Jes' kase he want Marsa for good work,
dat's why. What would Ham do curin' him up? No, sah, he not know how,
and de Laud no trus' him.'

“Peter said: 'Aunt Martha, you rather like the Lord, I take it.'

“'Yes, sah, I do. He be good. He fotched de poor darkies out ob workin'
all de time for nuffin for dem Sesh, and he know what he doin'. He goin'
to let dem Sesh 'spect dat dey whip dem Yanks affer while, but he not
let dem do it. He jes' coaxin' dem on till he git good men hold of de
army, den dey all git smash up. Jes' like Genl Tom, de Laud save him for
dat. Don't you see dat? My! when Marsa Tom git after dem Sesh, dey done
gits ebry time, dey do; don't dey, Marsa Lyon.'

“I agreed with her and the rest laughed. She finally cut her speech
short and retired to the kitchen.

“After tea Gen. Anderson gave us quite an amusing account of his little
improvised army that followed Morgan-son. He said no braver set of men
ever marched, but that it was very hard to tell his men from the raiders
when they got together; that some were riding in saddles and some
without, substituting a doubled up blanket or quilt; some were on old
and some were on young horses; some were on ponies and some on mules,
some wore 'stove-pipe' hats, some caps, some straw hats, and some were
without either. Some had on frock, some dress, and some round-coats,
and many entirely without coats of any kind; some with boots, some with
shoes, and some entirely barefoot. Take them all in all, they were in
dress _à la_ Falstaff's troop, but they were a success, and did what the
Army of the Center, under Rosenfelt, had failed to do, and that was
to capture the rebel cavalry. This raid of Morganson was an audacious
adventure, doubtless encouraged by the Knights of the Golden Circle,
and had he waited long enough I have no doubt that we would have had an
uprising in Indiana that would have been very troublesome to put down.
It was quite fortunate that it occurred when it did.”

“Yes,” said Dr. Adams; “I have no doubt that plans were being perfected
about that time and later on for a general raiding and plunder of many
cities, as well as portions of the North outside of cities, where we
could be seriously damaged.”

Uncle Daniel resumed, saying: “During that evening we discussed matters
generally, but Peter felt very much disappointed at his being absent in
Canada while Gen. Anderson was bagging Morganson. He said that it was
just his luck to miss everything of this kind, but that he always had
the luck to get into some hard place in front of the enemy, and usually
get hurt in some way or other, but that when it came to getting rebels
into a place where they could be easily whipped or captured or chased
out of the country, the luck seemed always to fall to Gen. Anderson. He
turned to the General, and with a twinkle of the eye asked him if he
had Ham with him to assist in hiving these Sesh. The General laughed and
said no; that Ham was back watching out for the Army of the Center and
keeping Gen. Forrester from coming in some morning and taking away our
trunks and camp equipage. At this they both laughed.

“Peter said: 'Ham will not have quite the trouble that we have all had
heretofore since Forrester's command has been depleted by Morganson's
capture.'

“'No,' replied the General; 'he will only need to watch one of them
now.' The conversation then turned on Peter's trip into Canada.

“I inquired if he saw Mr. and Mrs. Whitcomb. He said that he spent one
night at their house; said they were nice old people, very religious,
and lovely in every respect; that they were very proud of their children
and spoke of James as a brave and good boy. They knew nothing whatever
about his having been in trouble. When he told them that he knew him and
that he was on duty with Gen. Anderson, they were delighted, and asked
many questions about the army, our prospects, etc. They spoke of Seraine
as their lovely daughter; knew about her mission, her fondness for
Henry, and, in fact, gave him much information about Henry prior to
the war that we did not know. Altogether his stay with them was very
pleasant. After hearing about these good people, in whom we all felt an
interest, I insisted on his now giving us a full report of what he had
found out about the situation in Canada in reference to the conspiracy
and conspirators.

“He stated that on leaving Detroit, Mich., he went directly to Windsor,
and while there became acquainted with several gentlemen, one from
Chicago in particular by the name of John Wall. Peter, having learned
all about the Golden Circle, their signs, passwords, etc., had no
trouble in making himself known, and, as he represented that he was from
Nashville, Tenn., he got along without being suspected by any one. Wall
and he became friends at once, and as they had rooms adjacent at the
hotel they were together the first night in Peter's room until very
late. Wall knew all about Morganson's raid, but not about his failure
and capture. Peter learned that on his way home from the Detroit papers.
Wall told Peter that he feared Morganson would not succeed in obtaining
many recruits, as the authorities in Canada at the head of the
organization had not furnished the arms that were promised to their
friends in Indiana and Ohio; that he was at that time there for the
purpose of procuring arms for Illinois, and that he had been sent there
to see Mr. Jacob Thomlinson and a Mr. C. C. Carey on that business. He
said he was to have the arms smuggled through to Chicago, where they
would be subject to the orders of one Mr. N. Judy Cornington, and that
the intention was to release the prisoners at Chicago and Bock Island at
a time to be agreed upon for Camp Chase, Chicago, and other places.
At this point Gen. Anderson inquired if Wall was a man about five feet
eight inches in height, heavy build, gray eyes and light hair mixed with
gray, about half and half. Peter replied in the affirmative. The General
said:

“'He is the same man Wall that I met in company with Cornington, Buckner
and Eagle when I was in Chicago on my voyage of discovery.'

“'No doubt of it,' said Peter. Peter continued by saying that Wall gave
him full particulars as to what was intended. He said that so soon as
arms could be procured and the prisoners released it would be made so
hot for the Abolitionists, as he called the Union men, that they would
be glad to call their army back from the South in order to protect
themselves against fire and plunder in the North; that men were now
organizing to burn many of the cities North, and if that did not bring
the Abolitionists to terms other methods would be resorted to, but that
the destruction of property would be effective, as the North cared more
for their property than they did for the Government. The next day they
met a man by the name of Tucker, who was on his way to Montreal, where
he was to meet Jacob Thomlinson and Mr. Carey, in order to consult with
them about what was to be done in the direction mentioned by Wall.

“He said that arms must be procured at once; that the friends North were
ready but that no means had yet been provided so that they could act.
He thought that if Jacob Thomlinson did not have the arms in Canada he
should at once proceed or send to England for them; that he was ready
himself to perform the journey. To this Wall replied 'That is all that
is wanted in Illinois.' Tucker said that already men were in England
procuring and preparing material only recently discovered that would
burn up all the cities of the North without endangering the parties
applying it, and should this fail something else must be resorted to;
that the Confederacy could not and must not fail. He was in favor of
assassinating every leading man North if absolutely necessary to procure
their independence.

“Peter met several other Southern men while in Canada, as well as quite
a number of Northern men, who were in the conspiracy, and said that
they all seemed to be imbued with the same feeling and spirit--a
determination to have the rebellion succeed at no matter what cost. In
their desperation he thought they would resort to any means, no matter
how destructive, barbarous, or murderous. He left Wall and Tucker, and
visited one or two other places, and then returned, as he thought he was
meeting too many Southern men who might afterwards recognize him. His
statement only strengthened what we already had reason to believe.
Peter also said that this man Tucker and Wall placed great reliance in
Valamburg, of Ohio, and Thomas A. Strider and Bowen, of Indiana, and
felt sure that they would arouse the people of the North against the
Administration to such an extent that the war men would be put out by
the people, and anti-war men put in their places, so that a recognition
of the Southern Confederacy would be assured. The only thing that seemed
to alarm them was the success of Silent at Victor's Hill and Meador
at Gotlenburg. They said they had fears that these two men were their
greatest enemies, and would relieve from the Union army all the officers
who were not Abolitionists. They seemed to mean all who were opposed to
the Administration. They appeared to understand but two classes of men
in the North--their sympathizing friends, and Abolitionists.

“I made Peter write out his statement and leave it with me. I sent it to
the President, and soon received his thanks through his Secretary.

“Two days later Gen. Anderson and Peter left for their commands, and on
their arrival at the Army of the Center they were most enthusiastically
received by officers and men. An officer said:

“'General, you had to go home to get a chance at the rebs.'

“'Yes,' the General replied, 'Morganson and his men were merely visiting
up North during the vacation.'

“The General found his staff officers, orderlies, and old Ham at
his Headquarters. When he had seen them all and inquired as to their
welfare, he told James Whitcomb about Peter having seen his parents.
This delighted the boy very much to think that any of us should care
enough about him to seek out his father and mother. Ham, being present,
concluded that it was about his time to say a word, so he inquired of
the General about Martha. The General told him that she was well, and
sent love to him, and said she prayed for his safety.

“Ham laughed and said: 'I's not killed yet, but I 'spec' I will be some
day; for de nex' time I's gwine right into de fight, so I is. I jes'
tell you, Marsa Gen'l, I done sleep on dis, and jes' make up my mind dat
I fight dem Sesh de berry nex' time we git at em.'

“'Well, Ham,' said the General, 'I am not sure that we will need you to
do any fighting; but we would like it if you would stay around where
we could find you, the next battle in which we are engaged. Will you do
that?'

“'Yes, sah! I will, no mistake, dis time.' He got up pretty close to the
General, and said, 'Marsa Gen'l, you didn't tole Marfa 'bout I hidin' in
de bush, did you?'

“'No, Ham; we said nothing about it to any one.'

“'Thank you, Marsa Gen'l; thank you, sah. I go now an' look after de
hoses; I guess dey hungry.'

“'All right, Ham,' said the General; 'go on.'

“Gen. Rosenfelt at this time was reorganizing and putting his army in
shape for a forward movement.

“Gen. Papson had been home, and had just returned and was changing
some of his divisions. In this change he had assigned some three more
regiments to Gen. Anderson, thereby making his division very strong.
After the reorganization had been completed, Rosenfelt called several
of his Generals together at his Headquarters and talked over the
proposition to advance upon the enemy, and found perfect unanimity among
them in favor of an early advance. He then said to them that he should
move within ten days. His Quartermasters and Commissaries were put
to work and were busily engaged in procuring supplies and having them
loaded into the several corps and division train-wagons. Everything was
active in camp. The horses and mules were being re-shod, and the sound
of many anvils could be heard both by day and by night. Officers were
supplying their mess-chests and obtaining extra supplies, as they
supposed there would not be another opportunity very soon. At this time
the Army of the Center numbered some 60,000 effective men, and was in
splendid condition as to health, but had grown somewhat lazy after
so long a rest in camp with nothing to do. Gen. Biggs, who was in
his front, had scattered his forces very much, and while he had fewer
infantry than Rosenfelt, he had more cavalry. His cavalry, however, had
been diminished by the silly exploit of Morganson, who, as we know, had
been captured with many of his men, and those who were not captured had
concluded that raiding was unprofitable and did not return to Bigg's
army again. His force was divided about as follows: Polkhorn was at
Shell-town with about 20,000 men; Harding was at Waterhouse, to the
right some distance, with some 10,000 men; and at Tullahoming, with
about 15,000 men, lay Chatham in a well-intrenched position, his cavalry
to the front and left of his army about 8,000 strong. Gen. Bertram,
who surrendered Dolinsburg to Gen. Silent, was now holding Knoxburg and
Chatteraugus with some 18,000 men, about equally divided between the two
places.

“Rosenfelt was now compelled to attack his intrenched position or move
to the left, thereby endangering his communication to the rear. This was
somewhat perplexing to him. In marching forward he would be obliged to
leave forces behind him to guard his communications, thereby constantly
diminishing his strength, while the enemy in falling back would lose
none of his strength. Looking at the situation after he was ready, he
again concluded not to move. This caused a terrible clamor both in and
out of the army. Finally he was ordered peremptorily to move forward
against the enemy. He obeyed the order, the army was put in motion, and
a forward movement began. The question was how to out maneuver Biggs. A
feint was made on Shelltown, which lay in the direct route of his march.
This caused Biggs to concentrate his forces at this point. While this
movement was being made our main forces were moved by rapid marches to
Munster on the enemy's right, which jeopardized his communications with
Chatteraugus and the valley south.

“Biggs now finding his forces flanked, and seeing the danger of being
cut off from a junction with Bertram, fled precipitately over the
mountains to Fayette. Rosenfelt finding that Biggs had retreated in such
hot haste, was deceived into the belief that Biggs had gone into Georgia
at or near Romulus, and on finding that Bertram had left Chatteraugus
with his command, concluded that the enemy were re-enforcing the rebel
army in the East, and therefore thought to push on with force enough to
attack and defeat him, at the same time holding the strong points in
the rear. So he sent Gen. Critsinger with his corps to Chatteraugus, and
with the rest of his force marched over the mountain into the valley,
intending to have the larger portion of Critsinger's Corps join him
in the valley, and then to move south. Instead, however, of Gen. Biggs
having sent any portion of his army to re-enforce the rebel army in
the East, he was concentrating all his forces at Fayette and quietly
awaiting re-enforcements from the East. Gen. Longpath, with a corps of
20,000 men, was moving on railroad cars as rapidly as possible to the
support of Biggs. Gen. Rosenfelt was now on the road between Bridgeton
and Fayette without any knowledge as to the whereabouts of Biggs, and
yet he was now within fifteen miles of him, and Biggs with somewhere
about 80,000 men was lying in wait for Rosenfelt's advance. During
this afternoon a lady came into camp and asked to be shown to Gen.
Rosenfelt's Headquarters. When she appeared to the General he at once
recognized Mrs. Houghton, who had made such a trip just before the
battle of Murphy's Hill, in order to give the General the movements of
the enemy on his right the night before the assault. The General was
exceedingly glad to see her. She was invited to partake of soldiers'
fare, and was very pleasantly entertained. As soon as she could get an
opportunity she said to the General:

“'Are yot going to meet Gen. Biggs with your army?'

“The General responded: 'Yes, if I can ever find him.'

“'Well, General, if you continue marching in the direction that you are
now going, you will find him to-morrow.'

“The General laughed and said, 'I hope so; but, my dear lady, he is near
Romulus.'

“'No, General, he is not; he is at Fayette.'

“'At Fayette?' said the General with astonishment. 'You say he is at
Fayette?'

“'Yes, sir, I do; I saw his camp this day; I was not in the camp, but
in sight of it. I have been at Smallwood, some fifteen miles south of
Fayette, and know that Gen. Long-path, with his corps from Gen. Law's
command in Virginia has joined Biggs. The last of these troops passed on
yesterday for Fayette, and I was told by a well-informed person that the
corps would increase Bigg's army to between eighty and ninety thousand
men.'

“'Impossible!' said Rosenfelt; 'he would not have more than sixty
thousand with these.'

“'Yes; but, General, you must know that 20,000 of the Victor's Hill
paroled prisoners captured by Gen. Silent have been collected together
and organized into a corps under Gen. Stephenson, and are now in camp
with Biggs.'

“'Is that so?' inquired Rosenfelt.

“'Yes, General; what I have stated is true, and I hope you will believe
me this time. I once before took the chances of my life to give you
correct information, and had you believed my statement as then made
to Gen. Papson many a poor soldier might be living to-day who sleeps
beneath the sod. I come now as I did then, merely because I love my
country, and for no other reason. These rebels treat me kindly and never
ask me a question which would indicate their suspicion of me. I do not
dislike them personally, but I am an inborn Union woman, would make any
sacrifice for the preservation of our Government. General, you are in
the greatest danger of having your army destroyed. If I were a man and
a General in command of this army I would fall back at once to
Chatteraugus and make resistance, as they are sure to attack you in a
very short time. The understanding with them is that they must crush
your army before re-enforcements arrive to your support from the Army
of the West, that army having cleared that portion of the country of the
enemy.'

“Rosenfelt said: 'If you had seen the army and made an estimate of its
strength, I would then have no doubt, but I am persuaded that you are
mistaken as to the whole rebel army being at Fayette. They say so to
you, but there is merely a force there to impede my march. It is a mere
outpost. Their main army is at Romulus, Ga.'

“'Well, General, I should not like very much to see you move on this
outpost at Fayette, and I beseech you to send your scouts and find out
the exact situation before you make any further movement, as I assure
you that you will not proceed very far on this road without a great
battle, and one that you will have cause to remember the rest of your
life.'

“And so he has.”

“The General said: 'Well, it is best to proceed with great caution at
all times, and inasmuch as I know you feel sure of what you say, and
having given very correct information heretofore, I will halt for the
day and send my cavalry to Fayette and let them clear the town of the
rebels.'

“'Mrs. Houghton laughed and said: 'General, you had better give orders
to have what will be left of them (if you should send them there with
such orders) return and let you know which road will be left to you to
march on, which ever direction you may wish to go.'

“'Yes,' said the General, 'you seem to think we will not be strong
enough for the enemy.'

“'General, he has a great army.'

“Gen. Rosenfelt concluded that perhaps he had better be prepared, so he
placed Gen. McCabe's Corps on the right, Gen. Critsinger in the center;
Gen. Papson being some ten miles to his left near Cherokee Run, was
allowed to remain. His cavalry, under Gen. Straiter, was ordered to take
the main road to Fayette, and to enter the town if possible; but at
all events to feel the enemy and ascertain his position and force. The
cavalry were late in getting in motion, and when they had gone some ten
miles the darkness of the night impeded any rapid movement. But their
orders were such that they must move on. Soon they struck the rebel
pickets, who retired before them. Finally they approached the rebel camp
which was lighted and stretching out for miles to the east and south.
The rebels had discovered the approach of the cavalry and sent two
regiments of infantry on a side road to their rear, who opened on them
from an unsuspected quarter. This forced Gen. Straiter to strike off
to his left, following a road leading from Fayette to the old Mission
House. By doing this he made his escape with small loss, but was
completely cut off from his retreat back to Rosenfelt's Headquarters.
He traveled all night and struck the left of Gen. Papson's Corps at
daylight, giving this information to Papson, which was at once sent to
Rosenfelt. Messengers were sent with all dispatch to inform him of the
situation, and not only so, but to say that it looked as though the
enemy were about moving, and Gen. Papson thought they would be most
likely to strike our left. This Rosenfelt did not credit, as he could
not see, if they intended an attack, why they would not attack our
right. In this he was mistaken. The enemy were intending to turn our
left, take possession of the Mission House road, and interpose between
Chatter-augus and our army, secure Chatteraugus and Bridgeton, thereby
taking possession of the lines of railroad between there and Nashua,
forcing Rosen felt away from his base of supplies, and, eventually, to
destroy and capture his army.

“Gen. Papson, taking in the situation, ordered one of his divisions,
with Straiter's tired cavalry, at once on and across the road in rear
of Cherokee Run, holding two of the main crossings, at the same time
notifying Rosenfelt of his position and the reasons for it. In the
meantime Rosenfelt had concluded that the information given him by Mrs.
Houghton was in part correct. Having said this much to her, she asked
to be permitted to go into Chatteraugus, which she could do by crossing
over in the rear of the army to the Mission House road. Her request was
granted, and she started on her way. She had not traveled far before
she heard cannonading. She was then sure that the battle had begun.
Rosenfelt was greatly perplexed. Finally he agreed to Papson's
suggestions, and ordered Crit-singer's Corps to the left, and to join on
to Papson's right. By this time he could hear the sound of artillery
in the distance, but held McCabe, believing that the attack would most
likely be made on that road and on his right. Gen. Papson, seeing that
one brigade of the enemy had advanced to the crossing on Cherokee Run,
did not hesitate, but ordered Gen. Anderson to attack it, which he did
at once. The contest was a sharp one, but the enemy were driven back
very much broken up, with heavy loss in killed and wounded. Papson then
threw Palmerston's division in on the extreme left, on high ground,
covering the road and crossing well with artillery. In the afternoon
a strong force under Polkhorn advanced, and furiously attacked the two
divisions under Anderson and Palmerston. The contest raged for over an
hour.

“Palmerston was driven from his position, and our cavalry, which had been
posted on his left, was broken into fragments. Gen. Anderson changed
front with his left brigade and struck Polkhorn in flank and forced
him back on his main line. Palmerston was now supported by Sherlin's
division and his former position retaken. By this time Longpath had come
up on Polkhorn's left and had assailed violently Critsinger's left, and
after a severe struggle, in which the loss was great on both sides, our
lines gave way and the rebels came through and down the slope of the
hill in perfect swarms. Papson, quietly and coolly, as if in church,
threw a portion of his corps into the breach and checked the advance.
He then adjusted Critsinger's line and moved at once against Longpath's
right and broke it, driving it back in great confusion. He then advanced
his whole line and drove the enemy back for some distance through the
woods on to his reserves, and in this position night closed in on the
two armies. During the night Rosen-felt came up with McCabe's Corps,
which was now posted on a ridge to the right of Critsinger. This being
done, he had his corps commanders assemble at his Headquarters, now near
Papson. When all were together the manner of the enemy's assault was
stated and various views given as to his number. Some contended that his
whole army was engaged; some, his right wing only.

“General Papson was of a different opinion. He thought that the day's
battle had been fought on the part of the enemy by his advance merely;
that he was marching rapidly, believing that he could pass around
our left flank on the Mission House Road, by way of Roseville, into
Chatteraugus without much of a struggle, thinking our army all to be
on the Bridgeton and Fayette road; that in the morning they would attack
with their whole force; and for that we should prepare during the night.
Rosenfelt agreed that all arrangements for a great battle must be made
during the night. He directed that the lines be adjusted and made
as compact as possible, and all be ready to receive their assault by
daylight in the morning. He then sent out to find his cavalry commander,
Straiter. When found it was ascertained that part of his command had
retreated to Roseville.

“The General ordered him to get his command together that night and
move by daylight in the morning around our left, and on the right of the
enemy, and attack his right flank; to dismount his men and fight them as
he would infantry, and to fall back on Palmerston's left and there take
his position, and to maintain it if possible. He directed McCabe
to refuse the right of his line and to close up on the left with
Critsinger. Papson he directed to take command of the left and center
and to advance, if he should drive the enemy in the direction of the
Mission House road, so as to get the enemy across it if possible. The
two armies could be heard during the entire night moving into different
positions. The movements of the artillery sounded at times as if it was
coming into the other's line. Hospital parties could be heard on both
sides in search of the wounded. The light of the fires could be seen for
miles on either side, where the men were getting their scanty meals
and perhaps their last one. Rosenfelt was busy all night in giving
directions for the morrow. He rode all along his lines during the night.

“Biggs intended to make the assault at the opening of day the next
morning. Polkhorn was to move around and make an assault on our left
and center with one wing of the rebel army, composed of two corps. This
attack was delayed, however, by a heavy fog that hung over the field,
lasting for some two or three hours, giving Gen. Papson time to
strengthen his lines. At length the breathless suspense came to an end.
Bolenbroke with a full division had moved around on Papson's left flank
(our cavalry failing to get round as ordered) and made a most desperate
assault. This was taken up by successive Confederate divisions
toward the center with a view of getting possession of the road to
Chatteraugus. Gen. Papson was equal to the occasion, and Bolenbroke was
soon hurled back in utter rout, two of his Generals killed--Helmer and
Deshling--and many of their men and officers killed, wounded and taken
prisoners.

“In the same manner were all attempts to break Papson's line abortive.
While these things were going well and Pap-son's command proving itself
the superior of the enemy, rolling him back in dismay, a terrible
disaster befell us on the right, which endangered the safety of our
whole army.

“In the morning, very early, Rosenfelt, in passing along the lines of his
army, discovered that McCabe was stretched out like a string, with
no solidity whatever in his line; that Davies with his division was
entirely detached from the main line and isolated; and Critsinger was
also stretched over entirely too much ground. He at once ordered the
proper dispositions to be made, which was not attended to until late,
and in changing these divisions the movement was attended with the most
fearful results to our troops, a gap being opened in our front by the
withdrawal of one of our divisions to the rear, the place not being
closed up, as it should have been. On its discovery by the enemy,
Longpath threw Hoadley's division in at this point, at the same time
assaulting our right flank with Bertram's force. By this movement and
assault on our flank our whole right wing was utterly disorganized and
demoralized. They rushed in every direction. The commanders seemed to be
stampeded and worse demoralized (if such a thing could be) than even the
men. The woods swarmed with disorganized bands of men without officers.
The whole right became a confused mass, mingling together without any
reference to organization. In this mixed and confused condition they
came like a rushing torrent through the woods in all directions; but
finally, getting the direction to the northward, they bore everything
along in the same direction. Rosen-felt, by some means, was carried
along by this moving mass in the direction of Roseville, and, being
now separated from the rest of the army, he continued his way
to Chatter-augus, the presumption at least being that he went to
Chatteraugus in order to collect together and reform his shattered
divisions, that Papson might be properly protected in his looked-for
retreat with the remainder of the army.

“When Papson was looked for he was not to be seen coming on the road. He
had met the shock which came upon him after the General commanding
and the whole right wing had abandoned the field, leaving him and his
command to take care of themselves. Papson stood like the pillars of
Hercules, and met every assault of the combined army of Biggs with his
single corps. Gen. Gregor came back from the retreating column with his
command, as also did several other brigades. They were reconstructed
hurriedly and formed in line in support of Papson. He soon distributed
these troops and strengthened his flank. He fell back to a ridge across
the road over which the enemy were moving, and here reformed his lines
and encouraged his men. Gens. Anderson and Sherlin were gathering and
putting in line anywhere that they could do so the men who had been
lost from their commands on the right. The rebels were now advancing
on Papson with the assurance of an easy and triumphant march upon
Chatteraugus, where they expected to make prisoners of Rosenfelt and
his entire army. Papson was still receiving companies and regiments
returning to the field after finding that a portion of our army stood
its ground. Batteries that had been abandoned on the field by McCabe
and Crit-singer in their stampede were gathered and put in position with
other artillerymen to work them. Gen. Gregor was moved to the right with
his returned forces (who redeemed themselves at once), he hurled one of
Longpath's divisions from a hill on Papson's right, where a flank attack
was intended by the enemy. By this success we gained the position that
entirely protected our right. Papson now with his small force was in a
strong position. The fighting continued on different parts of our line.
Palmerston had been again driven from the left and Gen. Anderson again
sent to his support. He fell upon the enemy with his command and drove
him back with great slaughter. Palmerston was again re-established, and,
with his position strengthened, could now hold it. The battle raged with
great fury the full length of the line, and never did a Spartan band
stand more firmly than did our gallant men. At four o'clock like a
mighty tempest in all its most terrible fury did the musketry and
artillery of the enemy burst forth upon Papson's devoted columns, the
entire rebel forces moving down upon him in solid phalanx. Our forces
replied with all their artillery. The roar of the artillery, with its
blazing fire, the rattle of the musketry on both sides, equaled any ever
heard or witnessed. Solid masses boldly marched up in front of Papson's
lines, where they were literally mowed down by our musketry and
discharges of shrapnel and canister from our batteries. They would
recoil and then move forward again into the very jaws of death. You
could see them fall almost in heaps, as it were.

“This character of contest continued until darkness set in, our columns
not moving or swerving in the least. At dark the enemy retreated. The
victory of Gen. Papson was complete. Had the whole army remained and
supported Papson during the day a great battle would have been won by
our army, and Biggs driven out of the country, although his army was
so greatly in excess of Rosen-felt's in numbers. As the battle closed
Papson received orders from Rosenfelt at Chatteraugus to fall back to
Rose-ville, which was done. They encamped there for the night.
Gen. Anderson and staff were worn out and hungry. They hunted their
Headquarters, but Headquarters were not there. Old Ham was nowhere to be
found, and no provision had been made for anything to eat. Gen. Anderson
was greatly annoyed, but thought perhaps there was some excuse for it,
as most of the men seemed to get lost during the day.

“Capt. Day and my son Jackson said to the General: 'Perhaps he is with
Rosenfelt, assisting him in reorganizing the army in Chatteraugus.'
Matters were really too serious for jokes to be very amusing or
interesting at that time, so the conversations on the subject of Ham
and his whereabouts ceased. The next day they marched to Chatteraugus
without disturbance from the enemy. Many of our men remained on the
battlefield that night (compelled to do so from exhaustion) and came on
to camp next morning without the enemy coming in sight. Gen. Rosenfelt
stated his loss at 16,000, and Biggs admitted his to be 18,000. The army
of Rosenfelt was all collected and concentrated at Chatteraugus.

“When Gen. Anderson came into camp he had a search made for Headquarters
wagons and tents, as well as for Ham. Finally one of the orderlies found
Ham down under the bank near the river and brought him to Gen. Anderson.
When Ham saw the General he was delighted and called out: “'My Laud,
Marsa Gen'l, I 'spected you done dead!' “'Yes,' said the General; 'but
it seems you did not wait to see.'

“'No, sir; dat am so. I staid doe, Marsa Gen'l, jes' as long as anybody
else do whar I been. I tell you, our mans all git, dey do; and when I
seed dat big Gen'l what's ober all ob you'uns (what am his name)--when
I seed him a gittin' from dar, I 'eluded it war about time for dis ole
nigga to march on dis way, too. Dat Gen'l, he not ride slow, I tell
you; he go fas'. And, afore de Laud, I 'spected you ebery one killed
or cotched by dem Sesh; den whar's de use ob me stayin' any mo' at dat
place, Marsa Gen'l?' “'Well, Ham, did you ever study law?' “'No, sir;
I 'spect not; I dunno what it am.' “'I think you would have made a
good lawyer, Ham.' “'Well, Marsa Gen'l, de truf is, ole Ham no good for
nuffin'. I cannot stand dis fitin'; dat am de truf, Marsa Gen'l. So, you
see, I is no good. I stay all right jes' as long as it am all quiet; but
whar am de use ob me stayin' by myself?'

“The General laughed and said that was too good to keep. He let Ham off,
sending him out with Capt. Day and Jackson to get some tents and camp
equipage from the A. Q. M. The next day he amused himself telling Papson
and Sherlin what Ham said about 'no use for him to stay by hisself when
de big Gen'l gone.' They all enjoyed the joke except those that came
in early. Ham came back after a while to the General and begged him to
promise not to tell 'Marfa,' and then went off satisfied.

“Biggs soon followed up and took possession of the ridge to the east
running from the old Mission House to the Little Combination River,
called Middleton's Ridge, and also a spur branching off from the regular
chain of mountains down to the river west of Chatteraugus, known as
Looking-Glass Mountain. The line thus formed was in the shape of a
horseshoe, and, with the river washing the north side of the town,
Rosenfelt was completely encircled; the object of Biggs being to force
a surrender by starving him out, Biggs now fully commanding all
Rosenfelt's communications both by rail and river. This was the position
of the two armies at this time.

“Gen. Silent was ordered to leave Victor's Hill and proceed to
Chatteraugus, sending as many troops as could be spared from the Army of
the West. Gen. Meador was directed to send 20,000 men from the Army
of the East, in order to protect the communications of the Army of the
Center. In the meantime Broomfield had been ordered to move with his
force, then in Kentucky, on Knoxburg. Gen. Hord had come on transports
up the Combination River to Nashua with his corps from the Army of
the East, and had sent them in advance to protect the railroad between
Nashua and Bridgeton.

“Gen. Silent learning the situation, sent the troops forward from
Victor's Hill and hastened to the scene himself. The first order he
issued in connection with the Army of the Center was that of relieving
Rosenfelt of his command and placing Gen. Papson in his place. The
condition of the Army of the Center by this time was really frightful
and perilous, and to relieve this situation was the thing to be done,
if possible. To this end all the energy of the Chief was directed. To
do this before an unprovisioned army would be forced by starvation to
surrender was the problem. Gen. Silent telegraphed to Papson to hold
out, and the answer came, 'We will hold out until we starve.'”

“What a noble old Roman,” said Dr. Adams.

“Yes,” said Col. Bush; “the old man had no superior in the army, either
as a patriot or fighter; he was like a rock when he once took his
position and got his lines formed.”

“I knew him well,” said Inglesby; “he was a noble man. He would have
starved to death in Chatteraugus before he would have surrendered.”

“Uncle Daniel, what has become of Gen. Rosenfelt?” inquired Maj.
Clymer. “He was a kind man, and I liked him very much, barring some
faults.”

“Yes. Well, he became soreheaded and got mad at the Administration, and
was exceedingly bitter on Gen. Silent for relieving him, and soon took
shelter under the wing of the anti-war party; but I have not heard of
him for many years. I think he went to some foreign country, then came
back and went to mining. I have no knowledge of his whereabouts now,
however.”




CHAPTER XIII.

     GEN. SILENT GUIDED BY A SPECTER.--ARMY OF THE CENTER.--
     BELEAGUERED AND HALF STARVED IN CHATTERAUGUS.--MIDDLETON'S
     RIDGE.--GEN. SILENT'S FORCES SWEEP THE REBELS FROM THE
     CREST.

     “O thou whose captain I account myself,
     Look on my forces with a gracious eye.
     Put in their hands thy bruising irons of wrath
     That they may crush down with a heavy fall,
     The usurping helmets of our adversaries.
     Make us thy ministers of chastisement,
     That we may praise thee in thy victory.
     To thee I do commend my watchful soul.
     Ere I let fall the windows of mine eyes,
     Sleeping and waking, O, defend me...”
      --Shakespeare

“The Army of the Center was now in a most deplorable condition. Gen.
Biggs's lines extended to the river above and below, so that the Union
army inside of Chatteraugus was practically invested, the rebel army
being so situated that every movement of our troops could be watched as
carefully as if they were all of the same army. The enemy persistently
threw shells into our camp and made it very uncomfortable both by day
and night. The rains had so swollen the river and damaged the roads that
there was no direction from which supplies could be drawn in wagons of
sufficient quantity to be of any very great assistance, had the rebels
only held the Une of communication by rail. Our whole command had to be
placed at once on half rations. Over 3,000 wounded soldiers were in
camp and hospital, suffering and dying for want of proper food and
nourishment. Forage for the animals could not be procured, and more than
10,000 died in and about Chatteraugus. One-third of the artillery horses
died, and the remainder were unfitted for service.

“Biggs had cut off a train of supplies of medical stores for the
wounded, and the ammunition of our army was reduced to the minimum.
In the battle of Cherokee Run the men had thrown away and lost their
blankets, so they were exposed to the hot sun and the chilly nights,
without blankets, tents, food, or any of the comforts that even soldiers
usually enjoy in the field. When Rosenfelt started on the campaign his
order was to take but one blanket to each man, and no overcoats. In this
condition they could not retreat. They seemed doomed to surrender at no
distant day.

“The enemy well knew the condition of our troops, being in possession of
the route to our depot of supplies, and the one by which re-enforcements
would reach our army. They apparently held our forces at their mercy.
For these reasons the enemy deemed it unnecessary to assault and lose
lives in an attempt to take what seemed secure. All that Biggs had to
do, as he thought, was to wait, and Chatteraugus would fall into his
hands without a struggle. Starvation would soon force terms, as retreat
or re-enforcements were considered alike impossible. No other portion of
our armies was reduced to such a terrible extremity during the war.

“This was the situation of the Army of the Center when Gen. Silent took
command of it. Biggs had sent his cavalry to the interior to watch all
movements on our part, and especially to prevent supplies from being
brought to or concentrated anywhere for our almost famished soldiers.
Weller and Lawting, in command of the rebel cavalry, captured and
destroyed in the Sewatch Valley 1,000 wagons loaded with supplies. They
also captured 700 wagons at Macklinville, with about 1,000 prisoners,
and at the same time destroyed millions of dollars of other property.

“Gen. Silent had just arrived at Nashua, and, finding that the raiders
were burning wagon trains and railroad trains loaded with supplies,
collected all the cavalry he could, obtained horses and mounted two
regiments of infantry. Under a skillful officer he started them in
pursuit of Weller and Lawting, chasing them into Northern Alabama and
capturing near one-half of their commands. Gen. Silent had no means of
getting into Chatteraugus until Biggs's force at Bridgeton and on the
river between there and Chatteraugus could be dislodged and driven out
of Looking-Glass Valley, which ran down along the mountain side to the
river. He had difficulty in getting all the positions correctly.

“Finally he met Mrs. Houghton, who had come out from Chatteraugus prior
to its investment. She gave him the most satisfactory detailed statement
that he had received from any one as yet. In the interview she told him
what she was doing in that country and where she had been; what she had
said to General Rosenfelt the night before the battle of Murphy's Hill,
and what she told him the day before the battle at Cherokee Run. The
General questioned her as to the number of the enemy, the names of the
commanders, etc. When she gave the names of Longpath and Stephenson, the
General said:

“'They are sending troops here from the rebel army East?'

“'Yes, General,' she replied; '20,000, I am sure, and I so told Gen.
Rosenfelt.'

“The General said: 'They are using the Victor's Hill prisoners?'

“'Yes,' said she; 'Gen. Stephenson is said to be in command of 20,000 of
them.'

“'But they have not been exchanged as yet?'

“As to that she did not know, but they were now in Gen. Bigg's army.
Gen. Silent thanked her and invited her to come to Chatteraugus when he
should take it; 'which,' he said, 'I mean to do in ten days from the day
I open the lines of communication, so as to get food to those starving
soldiers.' He then left her with many thanks for the information.

“The next day Mrs. Houghton sought Gen. Silent again and said to him:

“'General, there is one matter, which may be important, I did not think
to mention yesterday in our conversation.'

“'Pray, what is that?' said he.

“'Gen. Longpath is to start in a day or so to Knoxburg with his command,
in order to drive Broomfield from there, who they understand is now in
possession of that place.'

“'Well,' said the General, 'that is of more importance to know than
anything you have told me.'

“'I am exceedingly glad then, General, that I thought of it.'

“The General then said to her: 'I am extremely curious to know how you
learned this.'

“'Well, sir, I visit hospitals on both sides, and many things are there
said that would not be told to anyone in camp. I had seen a sick rebel
who had just come into the city in citizen's clothes to be taken care of
by his friends, and you must not ask me who or where he is.'

“'No,' said the General, 'I will not. Good-by!'

“Gen. Silent at once ordered Gen. Hord to concentrate his whole force at
Bridgeton as quickly as possible, and in three days the 20,000 men
from the Army of the East had secured Bridgeton and crossed over Little
Combination River on the road to Looking-Glass Valley. They moved
forward, driving Biggs before them, until they reached the western base
of Coon's Mountain, in order to pass into Looking-Glass Valley. At the
point where he was to enter the Valley the rebels made an assault upon
his head of column. Hord deployed his troops, advanced to the attack,
and very soon routed the enemy. The enemy now could very plainly detect
and understand the movement. Our troops went into camp at about six
o'clock.

“The rebels could see that if this movement was successful
re-enforcements as well as supplies to the Union army would immediately
be the result, and they were bewildered and chagrined. At about one
o'clock the same night, Hord was attacked in force by the enemy. Gear's
command first received the assault. Hord at once moved to the support
of Gear, but before reaching him found a large rebel force posted on a
range of hills which completely commanded his line of march. These hills
were steep and rugged. There was, however, but one course left, and that
was to assault. This was done in a most gallant style. The hills were
scaled and the enemy driven from them with a loss of many prisoners,
as well as killed and wounded. Gen. Gear meanwhile had been contending
against a superior force for two hours, and though almost enveloped at
one time by the enemy, he finally succeeded in repelling the assault.
The moonlight was so bright that the firing seemed to light up the whole
heavens, as if meteors were in every possible space. The yells of the
rebels, the running away of teams, the heavy sound of artillery, were
enough to 'frighten the souls of fearful adversaries.' Mules broke away
from their wagons and hitching places, some with halters, some with
harness and singletrees dangling at their heels. Horses neighing and
mules braying, all dashed in the direction of the enemy, who mistook
the fleeing animals for a cavalry charge, and fled in disorder and
confusion. At daylight the enemy had been repulsed at every point and
our route to Chatteraugus secured.

“Gen. Silent had managed to communicate with Gen. Papson, and directed
that one of his divisions should cross over the river in front of his
camp in plain view of the enemy, and while the enemy were watching
these movements pontoon bridges were being laid across the river by the
Engineer Corps, they passing down the river beyond the left flank of the
enemy in the night time. Over this bridge crossed Palmerston's Division
and joined Hord, and by the next morning all the heights commanding the
bridge and Looking-Glass Valley were secured--communication opened
by way of the north side of the river by crossing the pontoon bridge,
and on that very day rations for the men were taken into Chatteraugus.
Such a shout as went up from the throats of nearly 50,000 men was
perhaps never heard before nor since. Gen. Silent entered Chatteraugus
with the supplies for the hungry, and was most gratefully received
by officers and men. When this line was opened the boys christened it
'Silent's cracker line.'

“The scene that followed the opening of this line of communication is
not to be described by any one. Poor fellows, they had suffered long and
much. They were patriots; but how many people remember it now?”

At this point the old man grew eloquent, and finally bowed his head for
a moment. Resuming, he said:

“In a very short time every one had gained confidence and courage, and
was again not only ready but eager for the fray. Biggs at once saw his
peril. Longpath was at Knoxburg trying to dislodge Broomfield, while
Gen. Papson was being rapidly re-enforced. And now the tables were
turned. The rebels no longer jeered at and tantalized our boys with
inquiries as to when they proposed to start for 'Pine Forest Prison.'
Jeff Davis, the Confederate President, had only a few days before
visited Biggs's army and looked down upon our starving soldiers. Our
boys knew this, and would ask if Jeff Devis would like to dine with Gen.
Silent on hard-tack?

“Just at this time our forces were anxiously looking for the arrival of
the troops from the Army of the West, which they knew were marching
with all the energy they could to the aid of their comrades. So the next
morning the rebels were saluted with a shout that rang from the valley
up to the top of Looking-Glass Mountain and along Middle-ton's Ridge. It
was the arrival of Sherwood from Victor's Hill with two full corps of as
good soldiers as ever marched under the American flag. Cheer upon cheer
from both our armies rang out and gladdened the hearts of all.

“The next day Gen. Silent was handed a note by a cavalryman. He examined
it, and found that it bore information to the effect that Longpath had
failed to capture Knoxburg, but had been repulsed by Broomfield and was
then marching rapidly to re-enforce Biggs. On inquiry the General found
that the note was written by a lady, who was then some ten miles away at
a farmhouse. The cavalryman stated that she was very anxious that Gen.
Silent should get the note that day, and that she had also told him to
say to the General that she was the same lady who had given him certain
information at Nashua some days before, and that she informed the bearer
of the contents of the note and requested him to destroy it if in danger
of being captured. Gen. Silent consulted Gen. Papson and found that he
had implicit faith in her statements, as he said she had given Rosenfelt
truthful and important information twice as to the numbers and movements
of the enemy. Gen. Silent said:

“'This being so, we must drive Biggs from his position before Longpath
can join him.'

“It was then raining and blowing a perfect gale, and Gen. Papson said
that it might be well to delay until the storm was over. This Gen.
Silent assented to, but directed that all preparations be made for the
attack, so as to be in perfect readiness at a moment's notice.

“Sherwood, however, had not yet succeeded in getting to the position
assigned him. He was struggling against rain, wind, and high water. In
crossing Little Combination River to the north side the pontoon bridge
gave way, and Gen. Osterman and his division of Sherwood's command were
completely cut off and left on the south side of the stream. Silent
ordered him to proceed up the river to a point opposite Middleton's
Ridge with the remainder of his command. By this time the freshet was
so great that it was impossible to repair the bridge. So Osterman was
ordered, if he could not get across by eight o'clock the next morning,
to report to Gen. Hord. Sherwood finally succeeded in moving the rest
of his command to the point indicated. Pontoons were now necessary for
bridging the river at this point in order to cross the troops again over
to the south side to assault Middleton's Ridge, the point of it sloping
down near to the river, on which rested the rebel right flank. There
were but few pontoons to be obtained, and here the genius of man came
well into play. Rafts and boats of a rough character were at once
improvised, and by the morning of the 24th of November Sherwood's
command was once more on the south side of the river, with men, horses
and artillery, ready for the assault. He was moving in a drizzling rain,
and as the clouds hung low his movement was pretty well covered. He
pushed forward with great rapidity and seized the smaller hills near the
river, driving the enemy therefrom, and at once fortified them securely.

“The rebels now seeing this advantage made an ineffectual assault to
dislodge him. He had possession of two hills, with a depression in his
front between him and the main ridge, it being his objective point.
The mist and heaviness of the day prevented the enemy on Looking-Glass
Mountain from seeing or understanding the movement of Sherwood on the
right. Night closed in, and as the clouds cleared away, the light of the
camp fires revealed the position of both armies. Indeed, the night was
beautiful. The lights on the north side were made by those guarding the
camp of Sherwood, left in his movement, across the river. These lights
of the camp fires of both armies now formed a complete circuit, making
a grand picture. The stillness of the night was a warning to all that in
the morning work was to be done.

“About the hour of ten Gen. Silent was out looking at the lights, and in
order to form some opinion of the condition of the weather during the
next day, he strolled along the river bank alone. Stopping at no great
distance from one of the sentinels, he sat down upon a stone under a
large tree, the shadows of which obscured him from view.

[Illustration: A Spector appears to the General 238]

“While sitting absorbed in thought as to what the future would be to the
army then preparing for a desperate battle, a strange form seemed to
appear before him. He was at first startled, and then felt as though
he had dreamed, and was thereby deceiving himself. The object was
apparently a woman dressed in a long flowing robe of pure white. The
features were regularly formed; she had large blue eyes, long, auburn
hair, and a light shone about her which made every feature plain and
visible to him. This strange apparition did not speak, but pointed to
Looking-Glass Mountain, and passed her hand, extending her forefinger,
as though tracing the mountain along to where it dips down to the
Roseville road. At this point she held her finger pointing for some
seconds. She then turned and pointed to the end of Middleton's Ridge,
near the river, and there hesitated; then turned and pointed to
the center of the ridge, near where Gen. Biggs's Headquarters were
afterwards located. Here she seemed to trace two lines on the side of
the ridge by passing her finger twice back and forth. She hesitated
at this point for some moments, finally pointing to the sky as though
calling attention to the stars. At this moment Gen. Silent arose quite
excited, and the strange specter vanished. He stood for some moments
motionless. He could not move, and was trembling with nervousness.
Finally he aroused himself and stepped to the spot where the strange
figure had appeared. There was nothing that could have been by dreamy
imagination distorted into such a form. He said to himself, 'I dreamed;
I must have dreamed; how could this be otherwise?' Just at this moment
he saw a sentinel walking his beat some paces away and approached him
cautiously. The sentinel challenged, and Silent went forward and gave
the countersign. He then told the sentinel who he was, and inquired if
anything unusual was going on. The sentinel replied in the negative.
Silent then inquired if he had seen nothing unusual.

“'No,' replied the sentinel, 'except that you have been sitting on the
stone under this tree for some time. I have been watching you, as I was
not aware of your business.'

“'You saw nothing else?' said the general

“'No, sir,' was the reply.

“The General then bade him good night and returned to his headquarters,
feeling pretty sure that he had fallen asleep and dreamed while sitting
under the tree. Yet he had a half lingering superstition on the subject,
and it annoyed him very much. He could not divine the meaning of it;
whether a dream or not he could not decide. He walked back and forth in
a very unusual manner. One of his staff inquired if anything had gone
wrong in the movements of the army. He said not, but inquired if all the
Orderlies were at their posts, saying:

“'I will want them very soon to take orders to the field. They must be
cautioned, also, as they will be in some danger in passing to where they
must go.'

“He then sat down and commenced dictating his orders.

“At midnight they were sent out to the different commanders. Hord was
to attack with all his force, assisted by Osterman's division, in
the morning at the earliest moment possible, and scale Looking-Glass
Mountain. Gen. Papson was to make a demonstration against the rebel
center.

“The mountain is very steep and covered with trees and underbrush. Crags
jut out at every turn all over its sides, and at the summit a high
crest rises almost perpendicular 50 or 60 feet. Around the point of the
mountain nearest the river the enemy had heavy earthworks, held by one
brigade. The ridge or crest of the mountain was held by some 7,000 men,
with many pieces of artillery. Hord's command was all on the west side
of the mountain, entirely obscured from the sight of any of our troops
who were in the town of Chatteraugus, so that nothing could be seen
except the rebels who occupied the crest of the mountain. The movements
of the enemy proved clearly that some advance was being made.

“Gens. Silent and Papson stood on an earthwork on the north side of the
town near the river, where they could plainly see all the rebel lines.
Very soon the smoke and sounds of battle were seen and heard. Osterman
had attacked the rebels in their works at the foot of the mountain
nearest the river and driven them pell-mell out of their intrenchments,
killing, wounding and capturing a great number. At the same time Gen.
Gear was pushing up the mountain, his right passing directly under the
muzzles of the enemy's guns which were on the summit, climbing over
logs, boulders and crags, up hill and down, dislodging and driving the
enemy wherever he opposed. Up and on went our brave boys to the mouths
of cannon and into the very jaws of death. Gen. Silent, addressing
Papson, said:

“'General, our men must be climbing up the mountain's side. The enemy
would not fire so rapidly nor such volleys unless our men were near
them.'

“'No, I should think they would not,' said Papson.

“The fire flashed from their guns and muskets in the sunlight as though
the heavens were in a blaze. Soon batteries could be seen pulling out
and moving on the table of the mountain in the direction of the south.

“'Do you see that, Papson?' said Silent. 'They are getting ready to
retreat. See, they are sending their batteries out of danger!'

“Papson looked, but said not a word. Soon a portion of their infantry
moved in the same direction. The noise of artillery firing could be
heard no longer, but the rattle of musketry was becoming more distinct.
The men and officers who were not in the demonstration against
Middleton's Ridge, which was not a very heavy one, were standing and
looking in breathless silence at the upper table-land of Looking-Glass
mountain. Finally our line was seen moving up the crest, the men firing
as they came, and such a yell as arose from our men in the town of
Chatteraugus was of the kind to bring joy to a patriot's soul. On they
went, the fire flashing from the muzzles of their muskets. The rebels
began to retreat, our men pressing them until they were driven entirely
from the mountain and across the valley near the old Mission House, and
nearly to the foot of Middleton's Ridge. Papson's movement against the
ridge, which was the enemy's right, ceased, and Looking-Glass Mountain
was ours. Joy was unconfined among our troops.

“The poor fellows, who were nearly starved, acted as though they were
perfectly well and hearty, although they had had but little to eat for
weeks.

“This was only the beginning of the end at Chatteraugus.

“Gen. Silent thought the rebels would now retreat into Georgia; but in
this he was mistaken. They strengthened their line on Middleton's Ridge
and extended it across the valley to where Looking-Glass Mountain slopes
down to the road from Roseville to Chatteraugus, and there they seemed
bent on staying. Two days later, finding the enemy again preparing for
battle, Gen. Silent issued his orders for a general assault. Sherwood
at early dawn was to attack the enemy on his right and drive him back if
possible on the southern portion of the ridge; Papson was to be ready to
assault in front at the moment when the commanding General should think
the proper time had arrived; Gen. Hord was to cross from Looking-Glass
Mountain over to the Roseville road and attack his left flank.

“The morning was clear and cold. Biggs's Headquarters could be seen on
the crest of Middleton's Ridge, near the center of his line. Gen. Silent
occupied a knob or high point near our lines that had been wrested from
the enemy in a skirmish the day before. All were anxiously waiting the
assault and final result. Now and again a shot would be heard, and then
a volley. There were skirmishings occasionally in different directions.
On Hord's line, as he advanced, slight skirmishing was kept up, and at
the base of the ridge a shot would be fired in the direction of where
Papson was forming his line. Finally shots were heard on our extreme
left, then more, then a piece of artillery, then a volley, then a
battery opened, then commands were heard and the battle began. Sherwood
was moving against the enemy's right flank.

“He attacked as ordered, but found the enemy in strong force and very
stubborn. The battle continued on this part of the line without any very
material advantage to either side. At about three o'clock Gen. Papson
was ordered not to delay his attack any longer, so at this time the
movement of the whole army against the enemy commenced. Papson attacked
in double column, Gens. Anderson and Sherlin leading the assault
with their divisions. In the center, at the first assault made on the
rifle-pits at the base of the ridge, our forces were not successful, and
falling back for a short distance they readjusted their lines, changed
some of the regiments, and moved forward again to the attack. This time
the movement was as if it were machinery in motion.

“When close to the enemy a bayonet charge was ordered, and against the
foe they drove the instruments of death. The men who were in this
deadly charge will never forget it. As they came with bayonets fixed and
directed, the enemy, seeing their determination, poured a deadly fire
into their ranks. Many a brave man fell, but on the lines swept over the
trenches. Here the rebels were killed and wounded in such numbers that
they lay one across another in great numbers. The enemy fell back,
giving up the trenches to our victorious troops, and retreated to their
main works on the top of the ridge.

“Our troops moved right on up the slope of the ridge, facing a shower
of shot and shell and musketry most destructive and deadly. Anderson and
Sherlin led the way. Commanders of corps, divisions and brigades vied
with one another as to who should reach the crest first. For a time it
seemed doubtful if any of them would succeed in accomplishing it. Our
artillery was in battery playing on the enemy from an eminence on the
plateau east of the town and between the two lines. Finally the guns of
the enemy were disabled, some dismounted, and others driven from their
position. Our whole line then made one desperate effort to scale the
ridge and charge the rebel works. With a mighty shout and 'Come on
boys!' from Sherlin and Anderson, the heights were scaled, and amid
sickening scenes of blood and death our brave boys stormed and captured
their breast-works. Their center was pierced and broken. They wavered
and finally retreated down the opposite slope of the ridge. Gen.
Anderson seized one of our flags, mounted the rebel works, and held it
up so that our whole army might see it, and they did. The sight of the
old flag on the rebel works on Middleton's Ridge, filled our men with
joy and enthusiasm. They rushed forward, shouting as they went. The men
who had been shut up and nearly starved, wept with joy unspeakable.

“Sherwood now doubled the enemy's flank back until they were retreating
and falling back on the two divisions of Anderson and Sherlin, who
turned and poured volleys into their rear. The retreat of Biggs's army
now became general We captured many prisoners. Just at this moment a
rebel cavalry officer on a white horse was seen dashing down the ridge
from the direction of the rebel left. He came within a short distance
of our line and took off his hat to our troops, as if he intended to
surrender. Turning on his horse he drew a revolver and flred. The ball
struck Gen. Anderson in the right shoulder, inflicting a severe and
painful wound. Gen. Anderson turned and saw him as he escaped down the
side of the ridge. Anderson recognized him, but did not say a word. Many
shots were flred at him by the soldiers, but he made good his escape.
(It was Gen. Joseph Whitthorne, the fiend.) Gen. Anderson was taken by
Jackson and James Whitcomb (who had been by his side during the whole
of the engagement) back to the town to be cared for by the Surgeon. Gen.
Anderson inquired after Capt. Day, and upon inquiry it was found that he
had been severely wounded during the last charge up the ridge, and had
been carried in an ambulance to the hospital.

“The battle was won. No rebel flag was insight, and the Stars and
Stripes w ed over Looking-Glass Mountain and Middleton's Ridge once
more. Longpath just reached Ringgold's Gap in time to meet his flying
friends, who were in a great state of demoralization. They had been
utterly routed and broken to pieces. Our army was in great glee and full
of joy that night and for many days thereafter. The Army of the Center
had been in such bad condition for so long a time--being hemmed in and
starved--that it became necessary to go into quarters for recuperation,
and also to refit and refurnish it with horses, mules, harness, etc. The
troops were, therefore, distributed at the most convenient points on the
lines of our communications.

“Gen. Silent, now having put Gen. Biggs and his army in a condition of
harmlessness for the season, took up his headquarters at Nashua.

“The next morning after the battle, my son Jackson left Gen. Anderson
(who was comparatively easy, for his wound, though painful, was not
considered dangerous,) to search for Capt. Day. He found him in the
officers' hospital, wounded severely, shot through the bowels. He died
that night. This was sad news to the General, for he loved him as if
he had been a brother. He was buried at Chatter-augus. His friends were
notified, and removed his remains to the cemetery near Bloomington, Ill.
He was a gallant soldier, and had been so kind to Gen. Anderson that we
all loved him. His death caused nearly as much sadness in my family as
the loss of one of our own sons.

“My son Jackson, James Whitcomb and old Ham staid close by Gen.
Anderson, doing all they could to alleviate his sufferings. There was
no suspicion as to who had shot him. One day, however, he was suffering
with a severe fever, and in a delirium remarked:

“'Jo Whitthorne is my evil genius. He intends to murder me.'

“This he repeated so often that when he was sufficiently recovered
Jackson asked him if he remembered saying this? He replied that he did
not. Jackson told him that it had aroused his suspicions on the subject.
He then revealed the secret to Jackson under the seal of confidence,
as he said it would kill his wife if she knew it. Jackson afterwards
revealed the same to me, but no mention was ever made of it by either of
us.

“Old Ham was so attentive and kind that no one asked him as to his
whereabouts during the battle. Jackson, however, found him under the bed
when they brought the General back from the field. The old man said that
he had been sick all day, and got under the bed to be out of the way.
When they came back he said to the General; 'I know you be kill' dat
day or hurted bery bad, kase I dream it. De good Laud tole me so when
I sleep. No 'sputin' it, sho, for de Laud allers tells me 'bout dese
matters; and you can ax Marfa if it is not so when you go home.'

“When the General recovered so as to think of these matters he dictated
his report to Jackson, who wrote it for him, in which he recommended
Peter for promotion, among many others, for gallant conduct, and also
recommended Orderly James Whitcomb for a Lieutenancy in the Regular
Army. These recommendations were complied with at once, and Peter was
assigned to the command of a brigade. James Whitcomb was assigned to
the 13th U. S. Inf., and detailed at Gen. Anderson's request as
an Aide-de-Camp in place of Capt. Day. The President sent Peter's
commission to me and I took it to him at Chatteraugus, in accordance
with the wish of Gen. Anderson, who desired to see me, and at the same
time to keep from his wife and our family the fact of his being wounded
until he should be able to come home. I found my sons both well and Gen.
Anderson improving when I arrived. I remained several days. I met Gen.
Silent and had several conversations with him. I found him well posted
as to all matters North as well as South. He said there was no danger
of Biggs during that Winter. He could not more than recuperate his army,
and in the Spring, in all probability, the rebel army in the center
would have a new commander, as Biggs was a great failure; that if he
had moved against our forces when he had them caged up before
re-enforcements came, our army would have been compelled to surrender.
He also spoke of our danger in the North from the anti-war party. He
regarded it more dangerous than the rebel army. If they could succeed
in carrying the election the Confederacy would by them be recognized and
the Union dissolved.

“In a few days Gen. Anderson was adjudged by the Surgeon to be strong
enough to travel. He was granted an indefinite leave of absence by Gen.
Silent, who regarded him very highly as an able officer. Gen. Anderson,
myself, Jackson, James Whitcomb (now lieutenant), and Ham started for
Allentown. On arriving at home the family were overjoyed, surprised, and
grieved all at the same time--overjoyed at our return, surprised that
they had not heard of the General being wounded, and grieved at his
suffering.

“Lieut. James Whitcomb was introduced to the family, who were delighted
to see him. He left the same evening for his home in Detroit, and we
were together once more, save two sons, Peter and Henry. The meeting
between Ham and Aunt Martha was very affecting. Their manner and queer
remarks were laughable. Soon Aunt Martha came in to see her Marsa Gen'l
Tom. She hugged him and got down on her knees and prayed for him, and
then said to me:

“'Uncle Daniel, I bress de good Laud, for you bring Marsa Tom back. I
cure him, sho. I knows what to do; de Laud tell me, he do. He not goin'
to let Marsa Genl Tom die; no he not! He want him to whip de Sesh, he
do. I knows; de Laud tell me bout dat in de dream. He not fool dis old
'oinan; he neber do. Ham, he dream 'bout dat when he down to de fight.
He say he sick when dey fight. How is dat, Uncle Daniel? Did Marsa Tom
tell you? Was he sick? He awful coward, Ham is, but if he sick, den all
right; but when he not been sick he must stay wid Marsa Gen'l to keep he
things all right. Ham say he do dat. I 'spect he do; he say so.'

“We told Aunt Martha that Ham was all right, and that pleased her, poor
old woman. She was pure gold; God never made a better heart under any
white skin than she had under her black one.

“Gen. Anderson had the best of attention, and improved daily until
he could walk about without pain, but he was not fit for duty for a
considerable time. The two children were delighted, and were full of
questions of all kinds. One day when they were trying to entertain the
General, his little daughter asked him who shot him. I saw the tears
come into his eyes, and he arose and walked out on the porch without
making any answer.”

Just at this moment Mrs. Wilson came into the room, and Uncle Daniel
took her on his knee and kissed her, saying:

“Jennie, you are my all and only hope, save my poor grandson, that I now
have left. My time will soon come, however, when I can quietly quit
this world of trouble and care and find a home where works will have
due consideration; where those who serve in the army of the Lord will
at least be considered the equal of those who have been in rebellion
against him.

“My good friends,” said Uncle Daniel, “you may think strange of my
melancholy mood; but why should I desire to live longer and see what I
do and feel as I do constantly on account of the manner in which things
are now being conducted.”

“I am not in any way surprised at your feeling as you do. I have felt
and do feel the same, though my misfortunes and troubles have not been
severe in comparison with yours,” said Col. Bush. “But, Uncle Daniel,
to call your attention away from your sorrows for a moment, I am very
desirous of knowing what became of Mrs. Houghton.”

“She remained in that part of the country during that Winter and
until our combined Armies of the Center and West commenced their next
campaign, during all of which time she kept our commanding Generals
posted as to the movements of the enemy, his strength, when troops were
sent east or west, where and how many; and when the troops were moved
south in the Spring she returned to New York, and, I have been
informed, married again. I hope she may be yet living and enjoying great
happiness. She was a true woman. I have not heard of her for many years,
however.”

“She was a heroine sure,” said Col. Bush; “her movements were of a most
important character, Uncle Daniel.”

“Yes, Colonel, she was a true patriot, and loved her country for her
country's sake, and I hope the Lord has thrown fortune and pleasure in
her pathway. There were a great many patriotic and daring acts performed
by women during our war. God bless the good women. To our poor sick and
wounded soldiers they were like ministering angels, both in the camp and
hospitals.”




CHAPTER XIV.

     SERAINE WHITCOMB'S EXAMINATION OF THE REBEL PRISONS AND
     HENRY LYON'S RELEASE.--MAN'S INHUMANITY.--SERAINE WHITCOMB
     VISITS THE SOUTHERN PRISON PENS.--A SAD TALE OF WOE.--
     GRAPHIC PICTURE OF SUFFERING, WRETCHEDNESS AND DEATH.

     “Oh war, thou son of hell,
     Whom angry heavens do make their ministers,
     Throw in the frozen bosoms of our past,
     Hot coals of vengeance.”
      --Shakespeare.

Uncle Daniel Lyon resumed his story by giving us a history of the
adventures of Miss Seraine Whitcomb, who, as had been discovered, was
the sister of James Whitcomb, now Aide-de-Camp to Gen. Anderson. He
continued by saying:

“Miss Seraine's journey to Richmond was accomplished by overcoming the
greatest of difficulties. The President's authority was good at every
point in and through the Union lines. But when she reached the rebel
pickets at or near the Rapidan she was placed under arrest as a spy, and
taken to the headquarters of the commander of the rebel army. She then
stated her case in a modest way, presenting the note given to her by our
President. Her story was so simple and reasonable that she was permitted
to enter Richmond in order to lay her case before President Davis.
At the same time the authorities at the rebel army headquarters had a
lurking suspicion of her on account of (as they thought) her pretended
perilous undertaking. Yet she was conducted to Richmond, and there took
lodgings at the Virginia Hotel, where she was subjected to a constant
watch over her every movement. She was in much doubt for several days
what course to pursue. There was great activity going on in making
preparations for some movement of the rebel army. She was not permitted
to leave her hotel.

“She finally wrote a note to President Davis, stating that she wished to
be permitted to have an interview with him on a matter of grave import
to her; that she was alone and under a vigilant watch; that she thought
she could satisfy him of her harmless intentions.

“To this she received a very polite answer permitting her to see him at
11 o'clock the following day, and informing her that he would send an
escort.

“The next day, promptly at the time, an officer appeared and inquired if
Miss Seraine Whitcomb was in. She readily responded, and directed
that he be admitted. Presenting himself, he said he was Capt. T. P.
Redingson. The arrangements were soon agreed upon, and the two started
for the Executive office. The detention in the ante-room was-but slight,
before they were ushered into the presence of Mr. Davis. Seraine said he
was seated in an arm-chair, rather oldish and common. Mr. Davis rose
and greeted her pleasantly. He looked care-worn and haggard, and seemed
thoughtful; but at no time during the interview did he forget his
genial, polite manner toward her. She hardly knew what to say. After a
short time he broke the ice by asking her if he could serve her in any
way. She gained courage enough to tell him her whole story. She told him
she would not give information of any kind to any one in reference to
what she might see or hear while under his protection; that she wished
to examine the prison records for the name of her friend, Henry Lyon,
who she hoped, through his kindness, to find, and have exchanged.

“She seemed to touch a tender spot in his nature. He gave her a letter of
safe conduct through all the rebel lines, and authority to examine the
prisons and hospitals, exacting at the same time a pledge from her that
she would, when satisfied, return by way of Richmond and make a report
to him of all she should see and hear that was of interest in connection
with the prisons, the army, or other kindred subjects. With this
understanding and pledge on her part she gave him her thanks, with many
good wishes for his health. She then bade him good, good-by and returned
to her hotel.

“Capt. Redingson, her escort, was very polite to her, and promised that
he would call the next day and make arrangements for her to visit the
prisons and examine the records or rolls of prisoners in Richmond. The
next day at ten o'clock the Captain called and escorted her to Libby.
There she saw such suffering as made her almost frantic, but she
indulged in no remarks. As she passed along the pallets of rotten straw,
the tears would roll down the sunken cheeks of their occupants as she
uttered some kind word to them. The rolls did not disclose the name of
the one for whom she was in search, and she returned with the Captain
to her hotel. That night she could not sleep. She had seen that day such
sights as she had never expected to witness, and could not have believed
had she not looked upon them with her own eyes. Men eating rotten food;
many, very many, sick, sore and distressed; quite a number without
sufficient clothes to cover their persons; no blankets; no way to
send word to friends; no privileges granted, their treatment harsh and
brutal. For the least delinquency inhuman punishment was inflicted. No
prospect of help or relief of any kind. All kinds of stories were
told them of disasters to the 'Yanks,' as the rebels called the Union
soldiers. It was really a sickening sight to behold.

“The next day they visited Belle Isle, and there found the same
condition of things. After an examination of records they returned to
the Virginia Hotel. Miss Seraine then concluded to leave for Salisbury.
She asked the Captain if he would be kind enough to see to getting her
tickets and placing her properly in charge of the conductor, with such
instructions as might enable her to avoid annoyance on her route. The
next morning she was feeling dull and heavy on account of having passed
a restless night. The shadows of that which she had seen during the day
were continually before her eyes. She got ready, however, and was
soon put on the train by Capt. Redingson, who knew the conductor and
explained to him her situation and desire to avoid annoyances. Then
bidding the Captain good-by, with many thanks for his kindness, she sat
down in the car to pursue her weary journey, with many ill forebodings.
She looked out of the window over valley, hill and stream, and as she
passed on through that picturesque country her eyes fairly feasted on
the majestic scenery beautified by the pines that tower heavenward along
the line of the railroad.

“In her loneliness she could not resist the floodtide of hopes and fears
that swept through her mind--now hoping and then fearing that she would
not find Henry. If she should, would he be in the condition of the poor,
starved skeletons she had seen at Libby and Belle Isle? Could it be
possible that her lovable and gentle Henry could be so starved and
harshly treated by these people, who had been so polite and kind to her?
'No! no!' she thought to herself; 'it cannot be.' The train sped along,
and at night she was in Salisbury. There she was taken to a hotel of
limited accommodations and worse attendance, as it was of the character
so common to that country in the days of slavery. Quite a number of
sick rebel officers, who had been sent there to recuperate, were in the
hotel.

“The next morning it was discovered that a female 'Yank' was in
the house, and, the gossips whispered 'a spy!' Miss Seraine was
unsuspecting, and acted as if she had been a mere traveler in her own
State. But very soon an officer came and sat down by her and began a
series of questions, all of which she answered frankly. She told him her
mission, and made inquiry about the prisoners there, wishing to look
for her friend, Henry Lyon. This officer left her and went to the
authorities and had her put under arrest. At this she was frightened
almost out of her wits. She wept and begged, but nothing would do but
she must have her baggage (merely a satchel) examined. This done, they
sent a lady with her to her room and searched her person. Being so much
alarmed, she did not think of her letter from Mr. Davis. This was found
in her pocket and declared a forgery, as they thought if genuine she
would have produced it sooner. Finally the conductor who had brought
the train through from Richmond returned, and finding how matters were,
relieved her situation by-explaining it to the authorities. The
officers and Mayor then hastened to make apologies for their action and
afterwards treated her very kindly, and offered her every facility for
the examination desired. Her search at the place was as fruitless as
heretofore. She found the condition of things here as elsewhere with our
poor prisoners--nothing but extreme suffering and ill treatment. It was
hard for her to understand how any civilized people could find it in
their hearts to treat human beings so barbarously.

“She left Salisbury the first moment it was-possible for her to do so,
and made her way in great sadness to Pine Forest Prison, meeting with
many perplexing things on the way. As she neared Pine Forest she became
nervous and almost sick with fear that her mission would be a failure.
Her strength and resolution all at once seemed to fail her. But on she
went, between hope and despair. En route to this horrible place, all
kinds of phantoms rose before her mind. She would first see a starved
human being, and then a wild beast pursuing him; then the butchery and
murder of the victim; so that when she arrived at the village she was
almost frantic and nearly insane. A gentleman, seeing her lonely
and peculiar situation, assisted her to a house, where she procured
quarters.

“It was not until the next morning that she made known her desire to
visit the prison. The lady of the house seemed to take in the situation,
and, instead of regarding her as a spy, felt a sympathy for her and
willingly rendered her all the assistance she could. Miss Seraine
told her whole story to her, and sought her aid in making the proper
investigation. This lady, Mrs. Lawton, made all necessary arrangements
for the two to visit the Superintendent at three o'clock that
afternoon. Promptly at that hour they started, and when they entered the
Superintendent's office outside the prison-pen they were received most
courteously by Mr. Hibbard. At the same time his face wore an expression
that made Miss Seraine shudder. His movements were sluggish, his manner
uneasy. She hastened to make known to him the cause of her visit, and
at the same time presented Mr. Davis's letter. He scanned the paper very
closely without making any remark. The arrangement being made to come at
twelve o'clock the next day, they returned to Mrs. Lawton's house.

“Mrs. Lawton was kind, and readily engaged in conversation, giving the
most horrible description and picture of the prison and the inhuman
treatment the prisoners were receiving. Seraine was silent, and
refrained from expressing opinions or making any remarks save to say
that she had been treated with great kindness and consideration by the
officers she had met. Mrs. Lawton gave her to understand that she had
great sympathy for the prisoners, and that she was not entirely in
harmony with the rebellion, although she had been a sufferer by the war,
having lost her husband in the Confederate service. She said she was
living there merely to make what she could by selling things to the
soldiers when she was permitted to do so. She had a great contempt for
Mr. Hibbard, then keeper of the prison. It seems Hibbard was only there
temporarily.

“Miss Seraine slept but little that night,--she was so eager to
ascertain if Henry was, or if he had been, there. Next morning she arose
early and was ready for breakfast, though she ate but little. When
the hour of twelve o'clock arrived she and Mrs. Lawton repaired to the
office of Mr. Hibbard as per appointment. They were received in a very
polite manner, and informed that a guard would be sent through the
grounds with them. They asked if he could not accompany them, as they
were very timid about passing through without his presence. He finally
consented to attend them as guide and protector.

“'On first entering at the south gate they met a stench that almost
stifled them. As they passed along they saw the prisoners in groups,
standing and gazing at them with a stare like that of maniacs. Some were
moderately well clad, others almost in a state of nudity. The pen, for
that was what it really was, was in the most filthy condition that human
mind could imagine. As they passed along they could see the blush of
shame mantle the cheek of their escort. They walked through the
center of the grounds, being the dryest and most cleanly. To describe
accurately the suffering of the men, the filthy condition of this pen,
and the ghastly looks of those poor creatures, was more than any tongue
or pen could do. They came to where a portion of the sick were lying
under a very poor shelter, and there saw sick men with but little
clothing and in all the conditions of human suffering possible. Many
were covered with ulcers from scurvy, some were sick with fever, some
with their teeth dropping out, some dying with dysentery, some with old
wounds not healed, some with fresh ones made by their brutal keepers,
and nearly all were literally swarming with vermin.

“Miss Seraine became so sick at these sights that she was almost
fainting, and asked to return to the house and be permitted to come
earlier the next day, so as not to be in the pen during the midday
heat. Her request was granted, and they left the prison. She was greatly
alarmed for fear she would find Henry among this suffering class of sick
men. The next day they entered the prison at nine o'clock, and passing
around on the north side of the grounds found many cooking and eating
their meals. There were no satisfactory conveniences for cooking. A
little fire and a few pans and cups were all. The meat, what little they
had, was broiled on coals. Many took their meal and stirred it in a cup
with the most disagreeable water ever used, and drank it down
without cooking. Hundreds had died within a few days--some from sheer
starvation, as they could no longer take the food into their stomachs;
some from scurvy, some from fever, and some were murdered by the
guards for passing beyond where ordered. How any one could live in that
polluted and poisonous atmosphere was the wonder. In the inclosure there
was a dirty, swampy piece of ground, with water stinking with filth of a
character sickening to behold. When the rain fell all were subjected to
the drenching cold bath. On the ground and in the mud and the damp they
lay. Many were there who during the prior Winter had been so exposed
as to have their feet frozen, until in many instances they were rotting
off.

“These sights were so shocking in all respects that Miss Seraine was
afraid to speak, (except to say a kind word, when permitted to do so,)
to any of the unfortunate men. It seemed to her that Hibbard knew where
Henry was, but was avoiding bringing her into his presence. So she said
not a word, but looked well at all in view as she passed along.

“The punishments for any and every little breach of discipline were of
the most outrageous character. She saw many persons with their hands
tied behind them, and others standing, with their thumbs run through
loops of cords tied up to posts. The guards were insolent and were
constantly damning the prisoners. Take it altogether--their dirty,
filthy food, their mode of cooking, their scanty rations, their clothes,
the stinking water they were forced to use, the treatment of the sick,
the punishments they were compelled to bear, the dirty, vile pen they
were in, and the poisonous atmosphere they were forced to breathe, there
is no account anywhere in the barbarous ages that ever did or could
equal Pine Forest Prison.

“Miss Seraine became sick and tired of the horrible sights, and at last
said to Mr. Hibbard that she did not wish to go around any more to look
upon the suffering prisoners, but desired to be taken where Mr. Lyon
was, if in the prison. He replied that he thought he was in the main
hospital. They directed their steps thither. On entering it she beheld
so many ghastly men at one view that she recoiled, and for a moment
hesitated. Recovering herself she proceeded. While passing along she
beheld a young man with sunken eyes, pale and ashy cheeks, lying on a
board cot, so emaciated that she had no thought of who it could be.
But in a moment she heard her name whispered, and saw a lean, bony hand
reaching out towards her. She looked at him, took his cold, withered
hand, and spoke to him, asking if she could do anything for him. He
said:

“'I am Henry Lyon, Seraine. Do you not recognize me?'

“She fell into Mrs. Lawton's arms, exclaiming: 'My God!' When she
revived she fell upon Henry's neck and wept bitterly, exclaiming:

“'My Henry! my Henry! Can it be possible, can it be possible?'

“After some little conversation between them, she telling him that all
were well at home, etc., Hibbard informed her that the rules of the
prison would not allow any further interview at present.”

“What a brute,” interrupted Dr. Adams.

“Miss Seraine asked to see Surgeon Jones. She ascertained that Henry was
just recovering from an attack of typhoid fever and was now out of
danger. She obtained permission from the Surgeon to visit him daily
while she remained, and to bring him certain delicacies to eat. She then
returned to Henry and bade him an affectionate good-by, with a promise
to see him again. With a sad heart she retraced her steps to Mrs.
Lawton's. Retiring to her room she gave way to her grief and spent the
remainder of the day in tears.

[Illustration: Seraine with Henry at Pine Forest Prison 258]

“The following day Mrs. Lawton again accompanied Seraine to the
prison-pen. They took some wine and cake to Henry. After being refreshed
he and Seraine had a long and pleasant interview, in which Seraine told
Henry all about her trip, etc. She told him she had decided to leave
soon for Richmond, and thence for home, but would try and arrange with
the Surgeon, (who seemed to have some humanity left,) for Mrs. Lawton to
visit and bring him some nourishment. The prison and the sights beheld
by her had quite affected her nerves. On returning to Mrs. Lawton's
she was suffering with a violent headache, and, going to her room, she
remained in bed for three days.

“Mrs. Lawton was very kind. She sat by her bedside and gave her a
detailed account of her own trials. She was a daughter of a Union man,
and had never lost her veneration for her country and the old flag.
Although her husband had lost his life in the Confederate army, she had
not changed her smothered feelings for the Union. She related to Seraine
the many villainous outrages perpetrated upon the Union prisoners by
the inhuman keepers and guards of this vile den. She told graphically
of seven fine-looking young men who were brought out of the prison for
attempting to escape, and shot in the presence of a crowd of jeering
devils. Said she:

“'If a man wishes to learn of “man's inhumanity to man,” this is the
place.'

“She expressed her great desire to leave the place, as it was like
dwelling on the verge of the prison for the souls of the damned. Seraine
talked to her of her mission and what she desired to accomplish; also
asked her to keep a watchful eye on Henry, and when the time should come
for an exchange of prisoners to remind Hibbard of Henry as one to be
sent away, provided she could arrange the matter. Henry had been a
prisoner now for more than a year, and was naturally near the time for
his exchange if any one would look after the matter. After quite a delay
on account of her being taken sick again, the time came for her to leave
for Richmond, and after thanking Hibbard for his courtesy, and tendering
manifold thanks to Mrs. Lawton for her kindness and great care of her,
as well as leaving some money with Mrs. Lawton for Henry's benefit, and
promising to write from Richmond if permitted to do so, she embraced
Mrs. Lawton as if she were her mother, and with tearful eyes they
separated.

“Soon Seraine was on her way to report to Mr. Davis, President of the C.
S. A., as she had promised to do, and also to effect an early exchange
of prisoners if possible. Her trip was a dreary one. She remained as
quiet as possible, having no one to cheer her on her way. On arriving
at Richmond she again stopped at the Virginia Hotel, and there again met
Capt. Redingson. He expressed pleasure at seeing her, and tendered his
services as escort and protector while in the city. After detailing
some of her experiences on her journey, and thanking him for his former
politeness, and also for his present proffered services, she requested
him to bear her compliments to President Davis and ask for an early
interview, as she had promised to return and report to him. The Captain
readily assented, and on returning that evening informed her that he
would be pleased to accompany her to the Executive Office the next day
at eleven a.m., at which hour President Davis would see her. She was
very anxious and quite nervous until the time arrived. Exactly at eleven
o'clock the next day the Captain came for her with a carriage, and very
kindly attended her to the presence of the President.

“Mr. Davis met her with cordiality. He spoke to her about her perilous
undertaking, and hoped she had been treated kindly by his people. He
also inquired as to her success in finding her friend, to all of which
she responded that her treatment was kind, and her efforts were so far
crowned with success. She gave him an account of her journey and visits
to the prisons; her examination of them, and finally her success in
finding Henry at Pine Forest. She told him the truth about the prisons,
the food, raiment, and treatment of the prisoners. He answered in a
manner rather tender, and feelingly expressed his desire to have matters
in this direction improved, but regretted the impossibility of doing all
things as we might desire to have them done. He spoke of the barbarism
of war and its attendant cruelties. But he soon changed the subject,
after thanking her for her honesty and for having the nerve to tell him
the truth.

“He then inquired what she desired in reference to her friend. She asked
for his release as the only means of saving his life. He responded that
he would order his exchange at once, and promised her that he should be
on the first boat or train sent North with prisoners. He also gave her
permission to write to Mrs. Lawton on this subject, provided she did not
use his name in connection with this promise. He then gave her a letter
of safe conduct through his lines and detailed Capt. Redingson to go
with her to our lines. Having accomplished the object for which she had
gone South, and reported fully and truthfully to Mr. Davis as she had
promised to do, she took leave of him with her best wishes for his
personal welfare. He bade her farewell and God-speed in a very kind and
tender manner, so much so that Seraine has ever spoken kindly of him as
a man.

“She repaired to the hotel and told Capt. Redingson that she desired to
leave early the next morning for the Headquarters of the Union army. He
said he would call for her as requested, and they separated. Seraine,
after going to her room, wrote to Mrs. Lawton and inclosed a note
to Henry, merely telling him that she was well and on her way home,
encouraging him to bear up under his sufferings, etc.

“The next morning Capt. Redingson called according to his promise, and
they were off at once for the lines of the armies. On arriving at the
Headquarters of the Confederate army, they were nicely entertained by
the commanding General. They partook of a good meal and then rested for
the night, Seraine being cared for at a farm house near by. The next
morning, on being provided with a pass through the lines, they were
conducted under a flag of truce to the Headquarters of the Union army,
some twenty miles away.

“Seraine was received by the commanding General and taken care of. Capt.
Redingson, after having delivered his charge, returned with Seraine's
blessing for his kindness to her. After she had taken a rest she
conversed with Gen. Meador, who was then in command, and related to
him her experiences, at the same time keeping her promise to speak of
nothing pertaining to the Confederate army or any movements of the
same. After a night's rest she was sent under charge of an escort to
Washington city, where she stopped for several days, until she could
see the President and Secretary of War. She finally managed to have an
interview with the Secretary, and, after explaining who she was and her
mission South, he replied with some nervousness:

“'Henry Lyon' Is he a son of Daniel Lyon, of Allentown, Ind.?'

“On being answered in the affirmative, he exclaimed:

“'My God? what affliction that family has had! His oldest son died
recently, being the third son he has lost since this war began.'

“This was the first knowledge that Seraine had of the sad distress
in the family. She sighed and dropped a tear. The Secretary at once
understood the situation, and told her Henry Lyon should be looked after
and properly cared for. She asked if, when he was exchanged, he could
not be discharged from the service. She said that Mr. Lyon's seven sons
were all in the army, and three having lost their lives, she thought
one ought to remain at home to comfort the parents during their terrible
trials. She struck a tender chord in the Secretary's heart, and he
replied: 'Yes; when he returns, you write me and it shall be done, if he
consents.'

“This brought joy to her very soul. She bade the Secretary good-by,
saying as she left that he would hear from her in due time.

“She then called at the President's and sent in his own letter which he
had given her when she started South, that she might thereby be recalled
to his memory. He sent for her at once. As she entered his office he
arose and greeted her most affectionately, calling her 'my child,' and
bidding her be seated. He commenced plying her with questions, and she
told him the whole story. When she related what she had seen in the
rebel prisons, his countenance saddened and tears fell from his eyes. He
said:

“'This must be remedied somehow. Humanity revolts at retaliation in
kind, but in an instance like this it might be justified.'

“She told him what she desired, and what the Secretary had promised. He
replied:

“'My dear child, it shall be done. My old friend Lyon is making more
sacrifices than should be demanded of any one. I hope you will see
him soon, and when you do, tell him that I often think of him and his
family, as well as what they are doing for their country.'

“The President was a man of generous impulses. He had a very kind heart,
full of sympathy for humanity.

“She left the President with feelings of the deepest affection and
gratitude, having every assurance that her wishes would be complied
with. As she left, he bade her good-by, calling her his 'little
heroine.' From Washington she went to Baltimore, learning that some
prisoners who had been exchanged were to be landed there. She remained
at the Burnett House, most of the time in her room, not wishing to make
any acquaintances, but watching the papers closely to ascertain the time
for the arrival of the prisoners. One evening she learned that a
vessel had come into port with 200 prisoners. She hastened to the dock;
arriving all out of breath, and seeing the large crowd that was waiting
she became very much excited, and observing an officer in uniform she
ventured to speak to him. It was Gen. Shunk, of Ohio. She told him
who she was, and also for whom she was looking. He answered her very
cordially, and said he knew Mr. Daniel Lyon, formerly of Ohio, and
inquired if the person in question was one of his sons. She said he was,
and he told her to wait and he would see, as he was then in command
at Baltimore. In a few moments he came back with the glad tidings that
Henry Lyon was among the prisoners. She was going to rush on board the
vessel, but the General detained her, informing her that it was not
allowable under the orders, but he would bring Henry to her as soon as
possible. Soon she saw Henry coming from the vessel, leaning upon the
arm of a comrade. He seemed to be very weak, and still looked like
a mere shadow. He was brought where she stood, trembling and almost
fearing to meet him lest his mind might have given way somewhat under
the trying ordeal through which he had just passed. She threw her
arms around his neck and wept aloud. A carriage was procured, and she
accompanied him, by permission, to the hospital where he was ordered
to go. Reaching there, he was placed in a nice clean ward. There they
talked matters over, and Henry agreed to the discharge from the service.
Seraine left him with the nurses, saying that she would return as soon
as possible; at the same time he was not to let his people know anything
of his whereabouts. She left that night for Washington.

“The next morning at the earliest hour that she could see the Secretary
of War, she made her appearance. On meeting the Secretary he recognized
her, and asked if she was after the discharge about which she agreed to
write to him. She replied that Henry was now at Baltimore, having been
exchanged. Then she told him of his condition. The Secretary at once
ordered the discharge made out, and as soon as it had passed through
the proper officers' hands and was returned to him he handed it to her,
saying:

“'You deserve this yourself, without any other consideration.'

“She again thanked the Secretary, and at once repaired to the
President's Mansion. When she was admitted, on seeing her the President
guessed from her bright countenance the whole story, and congratulated
her most heartily. She told him all, and showed him Henry's discharge
and thanked him for his kindness. He said:

“'May God bless you, my child, and give you both a safe journey home!'

“Returning to Baltimore, she made arrangements to have Henry placed in a
clean car and taken to Allentown. After they were under way she told him
about the discharge, and he was delighted. She telegraphed me to mee her
at the depot, but did not say one word about Henry. I read the dispatch
to the family, and many were the conjectures. Peter said she had not
found Henry, and a great variety of opinions were expressed. My wife
burst into tears, fell down on the sofa, and cried, saying she felt that
Henry was dead. Ham, hearing what was being said, concluded it was his
turn to guess; so he began:

“'You's all off de track. Ham sees it all frough de glass in he head, he
do.'

“'Go 'long wid you, you ole fool: since you's free you 'spec' you is big
and knows a heap. You doesn't know nuffin, you don't,' said Aunt Martha.

“'Well, alright, Marfa; 'spec' me not know bery much; but, sho's you is
born, dat boy all right; you see, you jes' wait. I say no mo', but I see
what is de matter. You jes' wait, dat's all you got to do.'

“The next morning I went down to the depot with a carriage, and there
found Seraine and Henry waiting for me. I embraced my poor boy, overcome
with grateful emotion. My joy was complete in finding him alive. He was
a living skeleton. We were not long in driving to the house. All were
out on the portico to see Seraine, no one but Ham expecting Henry with
her. As they all saw Henry the family leaped with joy, and rushing out
to meet us, but seeing Henry's ghastly appearance a sudden sadness came
over all. We helped him out of the carriage. He was completely overcome
when he saw his mother. She clasped him in her arms and cried piteously.
He was assisted into the house and laid upon the sofa. All seemed
to have overlooked Seraine in their great joy over Henry's return. I
introduced her to each one of the family including old Ham and Aunt
Martha.

“'Didn't I see dem in my glass, Marfa; didn't I? What you got to say
now?'

“'I 'spects you did, Ham; dey is heah, sho.' Bress de Laud; he bring dis
boy home. I not see him afore dem pizen Sesh fix him dat way! Dey starve
him. What did dey do to him to make him look like dat?'

“Soon we all got settled, and after breakfast we heard Seraine's story.
She was our heroine, and no mistake. No one of us could do too much for
her. My good wife wanted to have her for a daughter at once. She could
not let her go out of her sight for a moment. She hugged her, kissed
her, seemed almost to want to take her in her lap as a child; in fact,
we all loved her. She had gone through great perils to save our dear
boy, and why not love her I For some days we did nothing but talk over
her journey-ings and what she saw and did. She was the idol of our
household. When Henry had gained strength enough to bear up under the
double shock, we told him of the death of David and James, which painful
news he had not heard before. It took him many days to rally after this
melancholy intelligence of the fate of his dear brothers. After Henry
was strong enough to walk about without help Seraine thought she must
leave us for a time and return home. This saddened our hearts, as we had
grown much attached to her. But she and Henry talked the matter over,
making their own arrangements, and the next day Jackson escorted her to
her home in Michigan. When she left, no family ever wept more in sorrow
at the departure of any one than did ours.

“There was a mystery connected with her periling her life in the way she
did that I could not then solve, but I made no inquiry into her secret.

“Of the few left to us they were now once more nearly all together, and
further plans were in order.”

At this point Dr. Adams said, “The horrors of those rebel prisons have
ever been like a specter before me whenever I hear them mentioned.”

Judge Reed here interrupted, saying: “I indorse every word of Miss
Whitcomb's description of these prisons. I endured their horrors and
inhumanity for nine months, and she does not tell the half that might be
told. To show that Seraine's statement is not in the least exaggerated,
I have saved an article from the Sumter (S. C.) _Watchman_, published
in reference to the Florence Prison at that time, which seems to have
equaled the Pine Forest.”.

Being asked to do so, Dr. Adams read as follows:

“The Camp we found full of what were once human beings, but who would
scarcely now be recognized as such. In an old field, with no inclosures
but the living wall of sentinels who guard them night and day, are
several thousand filthy, diseased, famished men, with no hope of relief,
except by death. A few dirty rags stretched on poles give some of them
a poor protection from the hot sun and heavy dews. All were in rags
and barefoot, and crawling with vermin. As we passed around the line of
guards I saw one of them brought out of his miserable booth by two of
his companions and laid upon the ground to die. He was nearly naked. His
companions pulled his cap over his face and straightened out his limbs.
Before they turned to leave him he was dead. A slight movement of the
limbs and all was over--the captive was free! The Commissary's tent
was close by one side of the square, and near it the beef was laid upon
boards preparatory to its distribution. This sight seemed to excite the
prisoners as the smell of blood does the beasts of the menagerie. They
surged up as near the lines as they were allowed, and seemed, in their
eagerness, about to break over. While we were on the ground a heavy
rain came up, and they seemed to greatly enjoy it, coming out _a paris
naturalibus_, opening their mouths to catch the drops, while one would
wash off another with his hands, and then receive from him the like kind
of office. Numbers get out at night and wander to the neighboring houses
in quest of food.

“From the camp of the living we passed to the camp of the dead--the
hospital--a transition which reminded me of Satan's soliloquy--

“Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell, And in the lowest deeps, a
lower deep, Still threatening to devour me, opens wide.”

“A few tents, covered with pine-tops, were crowded with the dying
and the dead in every stage of corruption. Some lay in prostrate
helplessness; some had crowded under the shelter of the bushes; some
were rubbing their skeleton limbs. Twenty or thirty of them die daily;
most of these, as I was informed, of the scurvy. The corpses laid by the
roadside waiting for the dead-cart, their glaring eyes turned to heaven,
the flies swarming in their mouths, their big-toes tied together with
a cotton string, and their skeleton arms folded on their breasts. You
would hardly know them to be men, so sadly do hunger, disease, and
wretchedness change 'the human face divine.' Presently came the carts;
they were carried a little distance to trenches dug for the purpose
and tumbled in like so many dogs. A few pine-tops were thrown upon the
bodies, a few shovelfuls of dirt, and then haste was made to open a new
ditch for other victims. The burying party were Yankees detailed for
the work, an appointment which, as the Sergeant told me, they consider a
favor, for they get a little more to eat and enjoy fresh air.

“Thus we see at one glance the three great scourges of mankind--war,
famine, and pestilence, and we turn from the spectacle sick at heart,
as we remember that some of our loved ones may be undergoing a similar
misery.”

“This publication,” said Col. Bush, “made in one of their own papers at
the time, proves that all that has ever been said of their treatment of
our prisoners is true.”

“Yes,” said Uncle Daniel, “and much more.”

“Uncle Daniel,” said Dr. Adams, “this Miss Seraine Whitcomb was, indeed,
a true woman, and, as the President well said, a 'little heroine.' I
take it she was rather small, from this expression of his.”

“Yes, she was rather small, but a pure jewel.”

“She was a woman of great determination, and loved purely and strongly.
There are but few instances of such pure devotion and rare patriotism to
be found in the annals of history. What feelings she must have had while
traveling through the Confederacy in such anguish and suspense. She was
a jewel, sure enough.”

Col. Bush here interrupted, saying: “The condition of our poor soldiers
in the prisons she visited must have driven her almost insane. It
certainly drove many of the poor sufferers into a state or condition of
insanity, in which numbers died in their ravings and delirium.”

“Is it not wonderful,” said Dr. Adams, “how soon these barbarities and
inhumanities are forgotten by our people?”

“Yes,” said Col. Bush; “but you must remember that our people are moving
too rapidly to look back upon scenes of distress. Money and power are
now the watchwords--throw patriotism to the dogs. It is not needed now
to save their property and their rights. You must remember that a man
like Hibbard, the deputy at Pine Forest Prison, who allowed men to be
shot down like dogs and starved like wild beasts, is now looked upon
with more consideration and favor than Uncle Daniel, who gave his whole
family as a sacrifice for his country. Did not this same Hibbard travel
all through our country last Fall making speeches? Was he not received
with shouts by our very neighbors, within a stone's throw of this dear
old man, whose son was starved near unto death in Pine Forest Prison by
this man? Has he not held high positions in his State since? And I would
not be surprised to hear that he had been appointed to some Foreign
Mission, in order that he may represent our country abroad in the true
Christian spirit of our advanced civilization!”

“Yes,” said Uncle Daniel; “when he was North on his stumping tour I
mentioned the fact of his inhumanity, and only received jeers from those
who heard me--some young students who were not old enough to be in the
war, and now feel that it must never be mentioned except in a whisper.
It seems that all the treason, infamy, and the barbarities and cruelties
practiced during that bloody period are now condoned, and the persons
who practiced the greater wrongs are made thereby the more respectable.
Oh, that I had not lived to see these things! It makes me almost doubt
my own existence. Sometimes I feel that it is all a dream.”

Maj. Clymer, in order to draw the aged man's mind away from this
unpleasant theme, inquired if he knew what became of Mrs. Lawton.

“I cannot tell,” said Uncle Daniel; “she and Seraine corresponded for a
number of years after the termination of the war. The last we ever heard
of her she had married with an Englishman and located in Canada. God
knows, I hope she may yet be living and happy. She was a noble woman. I
fear, however, that she, too, has passed away, as we have had no tidings
of her for many years.”

Uncle Daniel at this time becoming weary and very melancholy, we excused
him for the present, and asked permission to return again, when
he promised that he would continue his narrative, and, bidding him
good-night, we left, with an increased desire to hear more from his
honest and truthful lips.




CHAPTER XV.

     PLOTS TO POISON AND BURN.--FIRE AND POISON.--THE PLOT TO
     BURN NORTHERN CITIES AND SPREAD DISEASE.--THE SCHEME
     AVENGED.--PART OF THE CHIEF PLOTTERS BURNED BY THEIR OWN
     COMBUSTIBLES.

     “The earth had not
     A hole to hide this deed.”
      --Shakespeare

Some weeks having elapsed since Uncle Daniel was excused, we were
anxious to hear him further, and assembled again at Mr. Wilson's house.
Uncle Daniel was feeling quite well, greeted us pleasantly, and asked
that we be seated. After the compliments of the season, we inquired if
he was ready to continue his story. He replied that he was, and began by
saying:

“After Jackson had returned from escorting Seraine to her home in
Detroit, we discussed the question as to what steps should now be taken.
Gen. Anderson was still quite feeble, his wound being very painful. It
was thought that it would require considerable time for him to recover
sufficiently to again be able to take the field. He thought it would,
perhaps, be several months. Jackson, after reflection, thought he would
continue his investigation of the Golden Circle conspiracy, and to do
so satisfactorily deemed it best for him to go to England and get on the
track of their allies in that country, and see what preparations were
being made abroad in connection with the leaders in this country. Gen.
Anderson thought this a good plan. Henry, who had been growing stronger,
said to Jackson, that while he (Jackson) was making his voyage of
discovery through parts of Europe, he would go to Canada as soon as he
was able to do so, and carry out the plans left unexecuted by Jackson at
the time he returned from New York. This arrangement being understood by
all, we sent Ham out to the farm, in order that Dent might be summoned
to Allentown to give us what information he had gathered, if any, during
our afflictions and consequent suspension of our operations in that
direction.

“We directed Ham to bring Mr. Dent back with him the next morning. At
ten o'clock Joseph Dent and Ham arrived from the farm. As soon as we
could conveniently do so, we had an interview with Dent as to what was
transpiring in his immediate neighborhood among his friends, the Knights
of the Golden Circle. He related to us the facts in reference to a
meeting held two nights before, about which he had intended to come in
that day and tell us, if Ham had not come after him. The facts, as he
stated them to us, were these:

“A person by the name of Harris stated to his confederates that he was
just from Richmond, Va., at the same time claiming to be a member of the
Confederate Congress from Missouri. (A part of Missouri believed that
it had seceded, as you may remember, just as a few Counties in Kentucky
thought they had.) Harris had passed through the lines, coming through
West Virginia and Kentucky, as any one could have done at any time, and
as many doubtlesss did. His statement, as Dent told it to us, was this:
That he was sent by the President of the Confederate States (so-called),
and was on his way to Indianapolis to lay a plan before the leaders in
this and other States; thence he was to pass into Canada and meet the
leaders there, and in that way have prompt action and co-operation
assured. His greatest desire seemed to be to meet Mr. Thos. A. Strider,
who, he said, was one of their best and shrewdest advisers. His
headquarters were to be at Windsor, Canada. He directed the Lodge to
which Dent belonged to be ready at a moment's notice to do whatever
might be directed from the Supreme Council. He told his hearers to
spread the alarm wherever they could without being suspected, that there
was to be a great destruction of property in the North; that, he said,
would terrify leading men and property holders; and, in order to satisfy
his confederates that there was a basis for this statement, he disclosed
a part of a plot that had been proposed to Jefferson Davis and was soon
to be carried out. It was that a discovery had been recently made by a
professor of chemistry, one McCullough, by which towns and cities, and
vessels coming in and going out of our ports, could be easily burned
without danger of discovery. With this newly-discovered combustible
material a general and wholesale destruction of all kinds of
destructible property was to be inaugurated. Harris said that agents
were to be employed all over the country, who were to be selected from
the members of the Knights and to be made up of the most reliable and
tried men; that this matter had been duly considered and determined upon
by the authorities at Richmond; that Jacob Thomlinson, C. C. Carey and
others were now on their way to England to meet Mr. McCullough, who was
already there, and where the destructive material was to be manufactured
and brought in an English vessel to Canada, as there was noway of
getting from the Confederate States to the place from which they wished
to operate without running the gauntlet, and perhaps meeting with
dangers not desirable to be encountered. This man Harris also instructed
all who heard him that the penalty now fixed by the authorities in the
Councils of the Knights for disclosing any of their secrets was death,
which might be inflicted by any of the Order ascertaining the fact so
that no doubt could exist as to the guilt of the person who had played
traitor to them.

“This, I could see, alarmed Dent and made him cautious and hesitating at
times when we would give expression to our utter abhorrence of the
use of such villainous means as seemed to be in contemplation by our
enemies. We constantly assured the old man, however, that he need have
no fears of any of us, which, of course, he had not; yet he was somewhat
timid. He could not tell which way Harris started from their meeting,
nor how he was traveling. This ended his recollection of Harris's
statement. We then got Dent again to repeat the signs, grips, passwords
and instructions to Gen. Anderson and Capt. Jackson, as well as to
Henry, and so they found themselves well posted. Then, thanking Dent and
encouraging him to persevere in his discoveries, we allowed him to go
and make his arrangements with David's widow about matters at the farm
and then return home.

“The next day I wrote to the President, giving him the history of
matters as detailed to us by Joseph Dent; also, the plan we had laid
out for the future. In a few days I received a note from Washington,
unsigned, merely saying, 'the plan is approved.' I knew from whom the
note came, and was well satisfied to have the plans carried out.

“The next day we received a letter from Peter, informing us that he was
well, and that the Army of the Center was in camp and were expecting a
long rest after the two great battles. This delighted my wife, as she
felt that while they were not moving, her boys were safe. By this time
all necessary arrangements had been made for Jackson's departure, and
after bidding his mother and the rest of us good-by he left for New
York; from there he expected to sail for Europe. On arriving at New
York he called upon Mc-Masterson and B. Wudd, and made satisfactory
statements to them as to the reasons for not going to Canada. After
obtaining letters of introduction to Jacob Thomlinson they proceeded to
discuss the situation, and from them he learned that preparations, such
as had been detailed to us by Dent, were evidently being made for
great damage to towns, cities, and property generally. He also obtained
letters from McMasterson to some important persons in London, where he
professed to be going on some mission for the rebels. The letters, as
before, introduced Mr. Jackson, of Memphis, Tenn.

[Illustration: Jackson starts for Europe 275]

“He sailed the following day and had a pleasant voyage. While on board
the vessel crossing the Atlantic he made the acquaintance of one Capt.
Redingson, a jolly, gentlemanly companion. They were very suspicious of
each other for some time, but finally Capt. Redingson gave him the sign
of the Golden Circle, to which Jackson responded. The friendship was
then at once established. Jackson carefully felt his way,--as you
have seen, he was a cautious man,--and finally discovered that Capt.
Redingson was well acquainted in Memphis. This rather placed Jackson in
a dilemma, as his letters located him at Memphis. Finally he turned the
conversation in the direction of building railroads, and finding that
Capt. Redingson knew nothing about railroads, he mentioned that he had
been employed in engineering work on the Memphis & Chattanooga Railroad.
He said he lived in Ohio, but claimed Memphis, Tenn., as his residence,
inasmuch as he was a rebel and would have nothing whatever to do with
the North while they were making war against his friends, as his people
were all natives of Virginia, he himself having been born there. This
statement made all things right, and the two had a jolly good time
together the remainder of the voyage.

“During one of their conversations Capt. Redingson, in relating some of
his war experiences, made mention of the fact that at one time, not long
past, he had met a young lady from Michigan in search of her sweetheart,
and that he had been her escort while she was at Richmond, and through
their lines to ours. At this moment Jackson told me that he came very
near spoiling everything by his agitation, but by rising and taking a
glass of water had time to recover, and then listened to the story with
great interest, asking a question occasionally. Capt. Redingson
finally took a small book from his pocket and read her name, 'Se-raine
Whitcomb,' and that of her lover, 'Henry Lyon,' and remarked, that he
intended, if ever he should have an opportunity, to find out the history
of the two, as she had impressed him very favorably, and, in fact, had
excited his admiration,--she was so gentle and frank, and withal so
brave. Jackson said at this point he again became very thirsty.

“Very soon the conversation took a turn in another direction, and
Jackson inquired if the Captain thought there were any persons in London
looking after the interests of the Confederacy, to which the Captain
replied that Jacob Thomlinson, C. C. Carey, and one or two others that
he did not know, were there on a secret mission, the nature of which was
not fully known to him, as he had only returned to Richmond from Mexico
on one day and left under orders the next, and had to run the blockade
in order to get away. His description of the passing of our vessels
in the night out from Wilmington in a vessel laden with cotton; the
darkness, the stillness of the night, the lights on our vessels, the
fear of being discovered and overtaken, the joy he experienced when
they had passed our line and were covered by one of their fast-running
cruisers (the Susquehanna) was indeed quite graphic. Jackson said that
although the Captain was a rebel, and perhaps engaged in running the
blockade frequently, yet he was cheerful, and took everything that
seemed to be working against their success so philosophically that
he enjoyed his company, and rather liked him. During the trip Capt.
Redingson learned to like Jackson also, and made him a confidant,
promising to introduce him to many friends after they should arrive,
among whom he included Jacob Thomlinson, Carey, and many others.
He finally disclosed to Jackson the fact that he was sent by the
authorities at Richmond to London and Paris with a large amount of
Confederate bonds for sale, and that he would take Jackson with him
to visit the bankers, and also get him introduced, so that he might
be admitted to some of the Gentlemen's clubs, where he could hear much
discussion pro and con about the war. It seemed that Capt. Redingson had
been across several times on business for the Confederacy.

“When the vessel reached port, and all was ready, the two went out
together, and from Liverpool to London were engaged in conversation as
to how they could best manage to enjoy themselves while in London, and
at the same time attend to the business for which they were abroad.
Jackson had satisfied the Captain that he was going more to find out how
the people there felt, and the probabilities of the English Government
rendering aid to the Southern Confederacy, for the purpose of his
speculating in bonds and stocks, than for anything else, and at the same
time to aid if he could the friends of the Confederacy everywhere;
and to use all means, no matter what, for their success. They had not
noticed any of the important points until they came within some ten or
twelve miles of London, when their attention was attracted by the church
and school buildings of Harrow, beautifully situated on a hill rising
from a plain. This celebrated institution is one of the first in
the Kingdom. It was founded in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. Many
distinguished men have been educated there, among whom were Lord Byron,
Sir Robert Peel, and Lord Palmerston. After this the Captain and Jackson
took much interest in the historic objects presenting themselves till
they reached London.

“On arriving they engaged rooms at the Charing Cross Hotel. During the
next day Capt. Redingson found his friend Jacob Thomlinson and brought
him to his room. Very soon after this he invited Jackson in and
introduced him as Mr. Win. Jackson, of Memphis, Tenn., a good and true
friend of the Confederacy, who was willing to do anything to aid in
making the rebellion a success. Mr. Thomlinson received him with much
cordiality, and conversed very freely, but cautiously. He was not quite
as free and easy as Capt. Redingson. Finally Mr. Thomlinson invited them
to visit him at his hotel, 'The Palace,' near Buckingham Palace, on
the following evening, stating he would have some friends who would
be pleased to meet them. Jackson was very desirous to accept this
invitation, as perhaps the opportunity would be afforded to get
some information of value, and was consequently delighted that Capt.
Redingson promptly indicated their acceptance.

“In good season they made their toilets as if they were to meet the
Queen of England or the Prince of Wales, and set out for the Palace
Hotel. On arriving at the hotel and notifying Mr. Thomlinson of their
presence, they were ushered into his apartments, which they found were
most elaborate and elegant.

“On entering they were presented to Mr. C. C. Carey, Prof. McCullough,
and Dr. Blackman, of Kentucky. These men had the appearance of the
Southern aristocrats, except Prof. McCullough, whose manner and speech
denoted Northern antecedents. Jackson noted this particularly, and
in the subsequent conversation he learned that the Professor was of
Northern birth and education, having been, prior to 1860, professor of
chemistry at Princeton College, N. J. For a time the conversation ran on
the voyage and the many interesting places that should be visited by all
travelers. Before the evening was over, however, the topic was changed,
and the success of the Confederacy (as they were pleased to call it)
became the engrossing subject of discussion.

“Jackson was here tested and found not only sound in this, the most
interesting of all questions to them, but it was thought he might be
made very useful in assisting them in perfecting and executing their
plans.

“Mr. Thomlinson and Captain Redingson discussed the selling of bonds,
etc.; Thomlinson stating that the intention of the authorities at
Richmond was to have given him the bonds, but that they were not
prepared in time, as he had to leave at a certain date to escape the
blockade, on account of his previous relations with the United States
Government. Captain Redingson replied that he knew nothing about the
business except from his instructions, and he could not do otherwise
than to obey them.

“After many suggestions it was finally understood that a meeting of the
gentlemen then present should be held every evening at the same rooms,
except when engagements otherwise should interfere. Capt. Redingson
and Jackson then took leave of the other parties and returned to their
hotel.

“After going to their rooms Captain Redingson remarked that he wished
Jackson to stay with him and be his guest, as he feared he might need
a friend in future in reference to his business; that he desired him to
witness his transactions in reference to the sale of the bonds in
his custody. At the same time he asked Jackson if he had heard what
Thomlinson stated in reference to his (Thomlinson) being the one who was
to have placed the bonds. Jackson responded that he had. Redingson said:

“'Mr. Jackson, I intend to deal honestly with my Government (meaning the
Confederacy) in this whole matter, and I do not intend that these bonds
in my possession shall be a missing 'Indian Trust Fund?'

“Jackson remarked, 'Why, Captain, what do you mean by Indian Trust
Fund?'

“'Oh! nothing,' said the Captain; 'it was a mere idle remark.'

“This, however, opened a flood of light in upon Jackson's mind in
reference to matters of the past, in connection with certain frauds
upon the United States Government. He pretended not to understand the
Captain, however, and there the conversation on this subject dropped.
Jackson thanked the Captain for his generosity, but declined to accept
his offer,--that of being his guest while in London,--but said he would
remain with him as long as he could do so. They agreed that the next day
they would visit some few points of interest while resting and before
starting into business matters, and separated for the night. After
Jackson had retired to his room he jotted down what he had seen and
heard, the names of those whom he had met, etc., and at the same time
he concluded there was a chance for a fair-sized row between Jacob
Thomlinson and Capt. Redingson.

“Evidently, the latter had but little confidence in the former, and was
determined to look well to his own matters of business.

“The next morning, after they had breakfasted, a programme was arranged
and they started out in a cab sightseeing. The first place of interest
visited was the monument at Fish-street Hill, near London Bridge, which
stands as the enduring monument to London's great fire in 1666. The
next place, which is usually the first one visited by travelers,
was Westminster Abbey--the shrine of the ashes of some of the most
illustrious and greatest of England's dead. They then visited the
Temple, being next in antiquarian interest; then St. Paul's Church, the
Middle and Inner Temple Hall, Middle Temple Library, Temple Gardens, and
one or two of the principal parks. By this time they had whiled away the
most of the day, and therefore returned to Charing Cross Hotel.

“After dinner that evening they again visited the rooms of Jacob
Thomlinson and found the same friends of the evening before. After
salutations, and the ordinary chat about London and the points visited
by each, the conversation again turned on the war at home. On this
occasion ways and means were discussed very freely. The Professor
and Dr. Blackman seemed to be really fiendish in their feelings and
suggestions. The Professor was very anxious that money should be
obtained at once, in order that the plan agreed to at Richmond should
be entered upon without delay, which was, as heretofore stated, that the
material was to be made in large quantities wherewith towns, cities
and other property could be easily burned without detection. Jackson
inquired of the Professor what his combustible was, to which he replied:

“'There are but two men who have the secret; it cannot be given without
the consent of both and in the presence of both. I can,' he continued,
'burn the city of New York in one day or night by throwing this
preparation in eight or ten places at the same point of time, and no
power can prevent its success in making destruction certain. The person
throwing it can, by a certain gauge, give himself plenty of time to be
entirely out of the sight of any one who might chance to be near. In
that way he would not even be suspected. When the explosion takes place
the flames will instantly cover an entire block of buildings. It has
been so thoroughly tested that there is now no longer any doubt of the
destructive power of the material.'

“Capt. Redingson here interposed a question, desiring to know if this
would come within the range of civilized warfare?

“'Civilized warfare!' said Dr. Blackman; 'what do I care for the rules
of civilized warfare? Have not these Yankees destroyed our property?
Are they not setting our slaves free? Is not that destruction of our
property rights?'

“'Yes,' said Capt. Redingson; 'but this is retaliation on property and
persons that are not doing any injury. You must remember that we
have many good friends North, and this mode of warfare would be the
destruction of women and children.'

“'Very well,' said Dr. Blackman; 'let that be so. If those people are,
as you say, our friends, let them join in and help us. They can stop
this war if they want to do so. No, sir! they are only pretended
friends. They are after the dollar, and play between the lines!'

“Jacob Thomlinson here spoke up, saying: 'You are quite right, Doctor;
we cannot look for help from any of those people, and the sooner we
light up their cities with a grand and bright light the better!'

“'Very well, gentlemen; I was merely wishing to understand the matter,'
said Capt. Redingson.

“Dr. Blackman by this time was walking to and fro across the room
somewhat excitedly. Halting in front of Capt. Redingson, he said: 'I
presume that your Christian sentiments would revolt at my proposition,
and to which the authorities have already assented.'

“'What is that?' quickly inquired Capt. Redingson.

“'It is to spread disease in the Northern cities and through the
Northern army.'

“The Captain promptly replied: 'Well, sir, this would be a novel way of
fighting battles. I had supposed that physicians were educated in the
line of preventing and curing diseases, and not in the practice of how
to spread them.'

“'Yes, sir! as a principle, that is so; but in a case like this, where
is the difference between shooting a man to death and poisoning him to
death?' said the Doctor.

“'Doctor, I can see a very great difference. In the one case you fight
him, giving him an equal chance with yourself; in the other, you murder
him in the most dastardly and cowardly manner.'

“'I am greatly surprised at you, sir,' said the Doctor. 'I thought you
were one of our truest men?'

“'So I am,' responded the Captain. 'But, Doctor, we had better not
discuss this matter further. I shall obey my orders; but please excuse
me from anything more than to do so in the direction of which you were
speaking.'

“During this discussion Jackson had remained silent. The Doctor, turning
to him, said:

“'Mr. Jackson, what are your views on the subjects under discussion?'

“To this Jackson replied that, being unacquainted with the usages of
war, he was not competent to decide, but he thought while all parties
implicitly obey orders, he did not see that individual opinions cut very
much of a figure in the operations of a great war.

“Thomlinson said that was the most sensible solution of the question;
that he presumed there were a great many questions upon which we might
all have very different shades of opinion.

“'But, Doctor,' said Jackson, 'there is a difficulty in my mind as to
how you are to carry out your proposed plan.'

“'Not the slightest difficulty, sir. I have already made arrangements
with all the smallpox hospitals of England, so that instead of
destroying or burying in the ground the towels, sheets, covers,
blankets, and under-clothing, they are all to be boxed up tightly and
covered with clean blankets and sent to an out-of-the-way place which I
have prepared.

“I am to pay for them on delivery. I have persons employed, all of whom
have passed through the most malignant forms of the disease. They are
collecting and having brought to this out-house those infected goods.
When I have a sufficient quantity of them I shall purchase a large
amount of material used by soldiers, such as handkerchiefs, stockings,
underwear, sheets for hospitals, etc., mix them with the infected goods,
box them up and ship them to the Sanitary Commission in New York by way
of Canada for distribution to the Union Soldiers, post hospitals, and
sanitariums. I shall go to the Charity Hospital Association here and get
permission to send them in their name; in fact, I have the permission
now. They, of course, do not know they are infected goods, but I have
given them the list of goods I intend to purchase, and they will give me
the letter I wish, turning the goods over to me as their agent to take
them to New York and present them to the Sanitary Commission for the
Union armies. I have given to them the name of James Churchill, of
London.'

“'But, Doctor, how will you take them on board ship without danger to
the people on the vessel?'

“'Very easily, sir. There is not the slightest danger in doing so. I
will pack them inside fresh linens and blankets, with cotton and paper
outside of them, making the boxes of good material and very close in
the joints. I shall leave for New York in about one month, and I have
no fears that I will not succeed in doing great damage to the army, and
also to the members of the Sanitary Commission who handle the goods. I
regard the Commission as a set of scamps and hypocrites.'

“Jackson here interrupted, saying: 'Doctor, you seem to have your scheme
pretty well planned, and it looks as though it might be a success.'

“This Dr. Blackman seems to have been a communicative individual, and
Jackson having sounded him all that he wished at that time, the Captain
and Jackson took their leave and repaired to their hotel. When there
the Captain walked into Jackson's room and stood for a moment looking
straight into Jackson's face. Finally, he spoke in about these words:

“'Mr. Jackson, I am a rebel! I am what is called a traitor to the United
States Government. I am in favor of the whole country becoming one
universal wreck before I would submit to go back into the Union. But,
sir, I want you to remember, if you should ever think of Capt. Redingson
in the future, that his mother was a Christian woman, and taught her son
to have some of the instincts of humanity. No, sir; I am no murderer;
no city burner; no poisoner! I have listened to all these things and
remained partially silent. But, as God is my judge, I will not be a
party to any of these schemes. I will obey all legitimate orders, so far
as money is concerned, and as a soldier will do my duty; but no man has
a right to order me to commit murder or to perform inhuman acts, and I
will not do it!'

“Jackson listened to him, and then gave him his hand, saying:

“'Captain, you are a man, and a gentleman, with true appreciation of
what may be justified in war, and that which cannot be.'

“The Captain said he would go the next day to see the syndicate that was
to take the bonds, and as soon as he could arrange his matters he would
leave London.

“Jackson told him he would go with him, and they parted for the night
with that understanding.

“The next day the Captain made a visit to the office of the syndicate,
where all the preliminaries were arranged. Jackson, at the Captain's
request, and in pursuance of their former understanding, accompanied
him. An arrangement was made for the Captain to meet these gentlemen
the next day at the Bank of England, where the bonds were to be verified
with papers sent by the Secretary of the Treasury of the Confederacy.
Being quite weary they did not that evening visit the rooms of Jacob
Thomlinson. After the Captain retired Jackson wrote to me a detailed
statement of all that had transpired, and directed his letter to his
mother, so that no suspicion could attach, not knowing what might
happen.

“I will digress here a moment to say that the letter was received in the
due course of the mail. The statements it contained as to the proposed
schemes were so revolting that they struck terror to my very soul.
I left for Washington the next morning. On arriving there I laid the
letter before the President. He read it and seemed to be dumfounded. He
finally said:

“'Is it possible that such men live in this day and age?'

“He sent for the Secretary of War. The letter contained a minute
description of Dr. Blackman and Professor McCullough. Certain reliable
officers were at once detailed and dispatched to New York, with proper
authority to arrest either or both of these men, if they or either of
them should chance to enter that city. The President talked freely with
me after this was done, asking me many questions about the feelings
of the people. As soon as I could leave Washington I did so. Having
performed my errand I returned home and found Henry sufficiently
recovered to undertake his promised trip to Canada, and the day
following my arrival he started. I have wandered from the subject,
however, and must get back to London.”

“It is all interesting, Uncle Daniel,” said Dr. Adams.

“Yes, yes! but I must get back to London. The day agreed upon the
Captain (Jackson accompanying him), met the gentlemen of the syndicate
of the Bank of England, and then and there the bonds in the possession
of Capt. Redingson were verified and found correct according to the
Secretary's letters. The bonds taken by the syndicate amounted to
several millions of dollars, and, much to the surprise of the Captain,
the syndicate had instructions also from the authorities at Richmond to
place two millions in the Bank of England to the credit of the Treasury
of the Confederate Government, one million in the Bank of France to the
same credit, and one million in the Bank of England to the credit of
Jacob Thomlinson, and the remainder (|50,000) to be paid to Capt. T. P.
Redingson. This he placed to his own credit. He then took a statement of
the whole transaction from the bank. After giving his signature, so that
he might draw for his money, he was then ready to leave. When asked if
he knew Mr. Jacob Thomlinson, he replied that he did, and then in
turn asked the bank officer the same question. He answered that Mr.
Thomlinson was well known to the bank, and, in fact, was then in the
back room in consultation with some other gentlemen. This seemed to
nettle the Captain, as he felt that he was watched by Thomlinson.
Jackson asked the Captain if he was ready to return. He signified that
he was. They took leave of all the gentlemen, and left for their hotel.

“That evening they visited the rooms of Jacob Thomlinson. Before
starting the Captain spoke rather angrily about Mr. Thomlinson's conduct
and about the amount of money placed to Thomlinson's credit. Jackson,
being a very deliberate man, advised the Captain not to have any
discussion with Thomlinson, but to take everything for granted and to
agree to whatever plans the gentlemen at the rooms might suggest; that
he could leave the country whenever he wished, and not meet them at any
point in the United States or Canada. The Captain, with some warmth,
said:

“'Mr. Jackson, I will not meet them anywhere away from here to assist in
carrying out their murderous plots and schemes! Thomlinson has the money
to his credit, and can buy and pay for what he pleases. I will no longer
be responsible; and the fact that so much money is placed to his credit
causes me to have suspicion that these schemes, as they say, have been
indorsed by the authorities at Richmond. Now, my dear sir, if I knew
that to be true, so help me Heaven, I would renounce the whole concern,
as much of a rebel as I am. I would go to Mexico or some other country
and live. What! I, Thomas P. Redingson, a man of reputation, born of
Christian parents, assisting in spreading disease amongst poor soldiers,
who are merely obeying the orders of their Government? No, sir! no sir!
never I I do not believe that the All-seeing God will allow this infamy
to prosper.'

“Jackson then said: 'Captain, let us go; they may be waiting for us.'

“They proceeded to the meeting place. Upon entering they found all
present, and apparently feeling very much gratified at something. The
champagne was flowing freely and the conversation became quite loud. A
new face appeared in their midst. They were introduced to him. His name
was given as Dr. Mears, formerly of Washington City. In the course of
the evening it was disclosed that he was the man referred to by Prof.
McCullough as the only man other than himself possessing the secret of
the discovery of the great combustible that was to burn up the world.
Jackson excused himself from taking any wine on account of his head not
being in good condition. After many bumpers they all sat down to review
the situation.

“C. C. Carey said that the first thing now, since the necessary money
had been provided, was to ascertain what length of time would be
necessary to perfect the arrangements, as well as for Dr. Blackman to
complete his collection.

“Dr. Blackman, always loquacious, spoke up instantly, 'I will be ready
in two weeks.'

“Prof. McCullough thought it would require a greater length of time
for him and Dr. Mears to make proper preparations. He thought that four
weeks would be sufficient time.

“So it was finally decided that the three should make their arrangements
to be ready to sail within four weeks, and that they would sail on the
same vessel for Montreal, Canada. Jacob Thomlinson and C. C. Carey were
to precede them and have matters all prepared for taking care of and
storing their materials. The time was not then fixed for these gentlemen
to sail, but it was understood they should go in advance and make all
the necessary arrangements for quick and effective work as soon as the
Professor and the two Doctors should arrive in Montreal. The plan was
that agents were to be selected from their sworn friends of the Golden
Circle, who were known to be tried and true men of great daring and
courage. These men were to be placed at different points, where they
were to be furnished with the material and instructed by Prof.
McCullough and Dr. Mears on their arrival. Their operations were to be
from Canada. The agents were to operate against New York and New England
towns and cities from Montreal; also, against Buffalo and interior
cities in the State of New York from Toronto, and against Cleveland,
Cincinnati and Chicago from Windsor.

“These preliminaries having been settled, the next inquiry was as to how
the money was to be placed to defray all the expenses. Mr. Thomlinson
made inquiry as to the amount that would be required. The estimates were
made at once by Dr. Blackman for his part, and by Prof. McCullough for
the 'fireworks,' as Redingson now called them. The two estimates footed
up $109,000. Thomlinson thought that would be very extravagant. The
Professor inquired if he knew the material to be used. Thomlinson
admitted that he did not.

“Jackson saw that Redingson was regarding Prof. McCullough, with a look
of intense curiosity. Nothing was said for some moments. The silence was
finally broken by Mr. Carey saying that he thought it might be a good
plan to have one of the party who was to remain in London to have the
amount placed to his credit somewhere, so that he could act as Treasurer
for the two divisions of labor, and draw all the checks or drafts
necessary. Dr. Blackman spoke to Thomlinson, saying that he thought well
of that plan.

“'Well, gentlemen,' Mr. Thomlinson said, 'whom will you select?'

“Prof. McCullough said: 'I do not care; I am willing that Dr. Blackman
shall act if he will do so. What say you, Dr. Mears?' The Doctor
assented, and it was so arranged.

“Jacob Thomlinson said: 'All right, gentlemen; on tomorrow I will make
the deposit, and then Mr. Carey and myself will take the first chance
for getting to Canada, in in order to make the arrangements as now
understood.' At the same time he asked Capt. Redingson when and where
would his orders take him.

“The Captain replied that he should return to Richmond as soon as he
could get through the lines. Speaking to Jackson, he said: 'I suppose
you will remain in London for the present.'

“'Yes,' replied Jackson; 'I shall look around the country some little
before returning.'

“They all agreed to have one final meeting the next evening, prior to
separating for their various destinations. Bidding each other good-night
they left.

“Capt. Redingson and Jackson wended their way to their hotel. After
arriving at their rooms Capt. Redingson commenced the conversation. You
will notice that these two men never talked on the street, or elsewhere
than in their room. Redingson said to Jackson:

“'Did you see how loath Thomlinson was to put money in any other hands
than his own?'

“'I saw some hesitancy,' said Jackson.

“'Well, sir, he proposes to spend only what is absolutely necessary.
None of it will ever find its way into the Confederate Treasury. He
loves money equal to any Yankee. But now, Mr. Jackson, what do you
propose? Will you return to New York, or will you remain here for a
time?

“Said Jackson, 'I ought to return very soon, but I have learned but
little as yet in reference to the sentiments of the people in England,
and am thinking of remaining for a short time longer.'

“'Well, sir, if you have no objections, I will remain for a time with
you. I would like to see and learn more than I have about several
matters. Let us go to-morrow and take a look around. What do you say?'

“'Very well,' replied Jackson.

“'Good night,' said the Captain.

“When Jackson was alone, he wrote again under cover of his mother's
name, without signing his own, giving full details of the plan of attack
on the cities named, agents to be employed, etc. He gave the names
of places in Canada from which the attacks with fire were to be made.
Thomlinson and Carey's headquarters were to be at Montreal; therefore
Jackson suggested that I send for Henry and put him on the track, and
for him to discover the agents so they could be arrested, etc. This, he
thought, could not be risked in a letter to Canada. Hence, I wrote to
Henry to come home. He came at once. I gave him Jackson's letter and
he studied it, making diagrams, etc., and then returned to Canada,
determined to get in with these men and learn who their agents were,
etc. I could not visit Washington at that time, so I took the chances
of a letter to the President. He received my letter and took the proper
precaution to have careful watch for the developments of the dreadful
wickedness.

“Now, let me return to the Captain and Jackson. According to their
agreement when we left them, the following morning they started out and
spent a day of great interest to them. While riding in a cab the Captain
said: 'I have a proposition to make to you, Mr. Jackson, which I will do
to-night. The more I reflect upon what certain men are going to attempt,
the more atrocious it appears to me.'

“Jackson looked at him, but with his usual caution made no response,
except that he would be glad to hear what he had to say. That night when
all the parties met at Jacob Thomlinson's rooms, as per engagement, all
were good natured and full of hope and belief as to their success and
the future triumph of the Confederate cause. In the conversation it
seemed that the Professor and Dr. Blackman had come to the conclusion
that they could be ready perhaps a week sooner than they had at first
thought. Jacob Thomlinson said: 'All right, gentlemen, the sooner the
better.'

“He then revealed to them that he had that day chartered for safety a
fast-running steamer called the Will-o'-the-Wisp, to transport them and
their supplies of material from Liverpool to Montreal. The Captain
and officers were, he said, their friends, and ready to aid them in
anything. To Dr. Blackman he said: 'Take this letter; in it you will
find full instructions and memoranda, so that you can at any time
communicate with the Captain of the vessel. You had better send your
material along with some discreet person as rapidly as possible, and
leave for Montreal the first moment you can do so.'

“He also stated that he and Mr. Carey would leave London in the morning
to take passage from Liverpool to Montreal. The Messenger being the
first steamer to leave, they were going over in her. After some further
talk of no great importance, the Captain and Jackson bade good-by to all
and withdrew.

“After entering Jackson's room the Captain said: 'Mr. Jackson, I told
you last night that I could not see how the Living God could allow such
inhuman plans to succeed. Now, what I propose is this: for you and me to
remain and find if any vessel will leave for Montreal near the time,
but later than the Will-o'-the-Wisp, and that we take passage on her and
follow them. I am resolved that I will prevent this inhuman scheme from
being carried out. I do not believe that you will betray me, therefore I
tell you this. I do not now know how I am to do it, _but I will do it!_
What say you, sir? Are you a Christian man?'

“Jackson responded, saying, 'I am a man of but few words, and therefore
only say, give me your hand.'

“They elapsed hands and pledged fidelity to each other.

“'Now,' said the Captain, 'let us off for Paris to-morrow. We will not
see these men any more while here. We can watch the papers and learn
about the vessels, when they leave, etc.'

“This being agreed upon, the next day they were off.

“They visited Paris and quite a number of points of interest during the
delay of their friends in London. Finally, the Captain came to Jackson
with the Liverpool _Gazette_ and showed him the advertisements. The
Will-o'-the-Wisp leaves Liverpool for Montreal, Canada, on Thursday,
------ day of ------.

“'We must leave for Liverpool at once,' said the Captain, and in an hour
they were en route to London.

“Here they took the cars for Liverpool, and arrived the morning of the
departure of the parties with their fireworks, poisoned clothing, etc.,
on the Will-o'-the-Wisp. She was a beauty--very long, with a sharp prow.
She sat in the water like a seafowl, and sped away out of port as if she
expected to attract the admiration of the immense throng on the wharf.
They soon ascertained that the Fairy Queen, a very fast-going steamer,
would leave the same evening for the same place,--Montreal, Canada,--and
at once engaged passage and went on board of her.

“During the day the Captain said: 'Mr. Jackson, you are not as much of
a talker as our friend Blackman. I do not believe there is one of the
friends whom we have met in London who could tell your full name, where
you were born, what your business is or has been, or where you intend
going.'

“'No, sir,' replied Jackson; 'I never intrude myself upon any one. These
gentlemen all seemed unreserved in their conversation, did they not? How
did they know that I could be trusted with their secrets?'

“'Oh! they knew that I would not have introduced you unless I knew you
were all right. And they do not seem to appreciate the enormity of what
they are doing. Oh! I did not tell you the curious dream that haunted me
in my sleep last night?'

“'No,' replied Jackson; 'will you tell me what it was?'

“'Yes, sir. It was this: I dreamed that Dr. Mears and the Professor had
committed a murder in London, and were tried, convicted and hanged; they
were both cremated mated, and that you and I were invited to see it;
then their bodies were in a blaze like tinder, and soon became nothing
but a small quantity of ashes.'

“Jackson said that was a very singular dream.

“'But that was not all. I thought that Dr. Blackman was a perfect sight
to behold with smallpox, and that he was delirious, and jumped into the
Thames, and that you and I rescued him, took him to the hospital, and
had him attended to. I then awoke. The whole thing was so vivid to my
mind that I believed it to be true for a moment. What say you to this?
I believe somewhat in dreams, and fear that these reckless men will get
into trouble with their infernal machines, or fireworks, and poisons.
They must not be permitted to carry out their hellish purposes, as I
told you, and you agreed that they shall not do it. I will suffer death
before I will see these plots succeed and carry the guilty knowledge on
my conscience through life. I swear, if President Davis has sanctioned
this, I hope the Confederacy may sink into utter nothingness. What say
you?'

“Said Jackson: 'I agree to all, except I do not believe in dreams.'

“'Well, well, we shall see,' said the Captain. 'It is a warning of some
kind.9

“That afternoon the vessel moved out of port in majestic style. The
steamer Fairy Queen was stylish and noted for speed. Nothing transpired
to cause any excitement until the sixth day out. They had spoken several
vessels on the voyage and found them moving on all right. On this day
they discovered a vessel far in advance of them. The Captain and Jackson
were on the deck, and concluded that it must be the Will-o'-the-Wisp.
That night they were coming close to her, when the Captain of the Fairy
Queen told them that the vessel in sight was the Will-o'-the-Wisp, and
that she was moving slower than usual.

“During the night, perhaps about two o'clock, they were aroused by
fog-horns and various noises. They arose and went out. It was dark and
the fog so dense that nothing could be seen. The fog-horns indicated
that the vessels were coming dangerously near to each other. The running
to and fro and the language of the Captain of the ship all betokened
danger.

“By this time the passengers were all up and out in so many different
garbs that it was laughable, though the danger was imminent. The two
vessels were nearing each other in spite of all that could be done by
officers or crews. Finally the Fairy Queen was turned and run in the
contrary direction from her course, and by that movement we got out of
the swing of the Will-o'-the-Wisp. All remained up, filled with alarm.

“In the morning the fog lifted, and again they could see their way. The
Will-o'-the Wisp was still in view, but seemed to be struggling. Nearing
her again they found she was crippled in some way. The Captain of the
Fairy Queen spoke her and inquired her trouble, when he found one of her
shafts was broken. The arrangement was being made to get her tow-line
and aid her on her way. Just as they were fastening it they saw a stream
of fire pour from her that looked as if the whole ocean was in a blaze.
Their vessel had to cut loose and move rapidly to save herself. The fire
seemed to leap into and out of the water, like great burning shafts,
seemingly reaching the very heavens. It would then play on the surface
of the water and reach apparently miles away.

[Illustration: The Burning of the Will-o-the-Wisp 284]

“There was no possible means by which any assistance could be rendered.
No one could live near her, nor could a vessel of any kind approach.
They could hear such frightful shrieks as would have made a demon
shudder. Finally nothing could be seen save sheets of sulphurous flame
jumping and skipping over the water as if playing with the waves. Then
all became dark, and a streak of suffocating smoke hung over the water,
as if a lake of burning brimstone was belching forth over the sea.

“All on the Fairy Queen stood aghast and looked as though stricken
with paralysis. When the dark cloud of smoke had passed away there
was nothing in sight save one small boat, perhaps a mile away. The
Will-o'-the-Wisp was gone forever, and it looked as though all on
board had gone with her. The Fairy Queen steamed up and steered in
the direction of the small boat, and found that it contained but two
persons. It was found that one sailor and Dr. Blackman had escaped by
cutting loose with the little boat when the first signs of trouble were
discovered. The doctor knew what was coming, and made away for dear
life.

“When Jackson and Capt. Redingson made themselves known to him he was
greatly surprised. They then talked the matter over, and all agreed that
all the schemes of the Professor and Dr. Blackman were at an end.

“Capt. Redingson turned to Jackson, saying, 'There is my dream.'

“Blackman said Dr. Mears and the Professor were lost, and their great
secret with them.

“Capt. Redingson asked how this fire could have occurred.

“The Doctor thought some of the Professor's material must have ignited
in some way. 'The truth is,' he said, 'the ship was wrapt in flames in
an instant. I saw this sailor jump into the life-boat, and I followed
him. We are the only ones of all on board that are saved. The rest were
all burned to death before they could possibly get from the vessel into
the sea. There has never been any such combustible made before, and
perhaps never will be again. But it is lost.'

“He seemed very despondent all the rest of the voyage. When they arrived
in Montreal and conveyed the sad intelligence to Jacob Thomlinson and
Mr. Carey, they were overwhelmed with disappointment. Their schemes were
all blasted and they were bewildered.

“Finally, after some days of talking and consulting, they concluded to
send Dr. Blackman to Richmond for instructions as to further
operations. The first news that reached Richmond of the burning of
the Will-o'-the-Wisp created great consternation. The loss of Prof.
McCullough and Dr. Mears was thought to be the severest blow they had
received.

“Dr. Blackman left Jackson and Capt. Redingson to go to Richmond, but
which way he went they never knew. Capt. Redingson took passage for
Nassau, there to run the blockade, and was never heard of again by
Jackson. I hope he is alive, as I think he was at heart a good man, full
of noble impulses. Jackson was very fond of him, rebel as he was.”

Col. Bush said: “Well, Prof. McCullough and Dr. Mears got their just
deserts; their own fireworks did the business.”

“Yes, yes! but the innocent officers and crew suffered with them.”

“Yes,” said Col. Bush, “but this had to be; the Lord did not intend that
such infamy should be permitted to succeed.”

“But,” said Maj. Clymer, “there was Dr. Blackman, just as bad as either
of the others; he escaped most miraculously.”

“Yes,” said Col. Bush; “his material, however, was all lost, and he had
a warning against trying the same thing again. There was no great secret
in his material to be lost; but there was in the others', and the gain
to mankind was in the loss of their diabolical secret.”

“Uncle Daniel, what became of this vile conspirator, Dr. Blackman?”
 asked Dr. Adams.

“Well, Doctor, I am sorry to be compelled, with shame, to state the
fact, but nevertheless it is a fact, that this same man, Dr. Blackman,
has been made Governor of one of the States since the war, and at the
same time his record was known by his constituents. But it did not seem
to lose him any friends with his party, but, on the contrary, seemed
to help him. Yes, yes, my friends, this is the sad phase of the whole
matter. It matters not what a man did if he was a rebel; but if a Union
man, and he did the slightest wrong, he was disgraced forever. None
of the great and inhuman wrongs are remembered against the individual
rebels who violated every instinct of humanity.”

Here the old gentleman became silent, and placing his hands over his
face, wept like a child. At length he continued:

“I, with all my sacrifices, even here at home would be thrust aside
in order that the citizens might pay homage to the men who would have
afflicted their own household with loathsome disease, and at the same
time mocked at their calamity. If God wills, let it be so. I do not
believe, however, that He is doing more than trying the Nation, to see
if our people are worthy of such a Government as ours.”




CHAPTER XVI.

     A HAPPY WEDDING.--MARRIAGE OF SERAINE WHITCOMB AND HENRY
     LYON.--FIRE AND PLAGUE.--THE PLOTTING IN CANADA TO BURN
     CITIES AND SPREAD DISEASE.

     “I did not fall in love--I rose in love.”--Bulwer.

“After Jacob Thomlinson and C. C. Carey had recovered somewhat from their
alarm and demoralization, they spoke freely to their friends in Montreal
(and they had many there) about the burning of the Will-o'-the-Wisp,
saying it was a great loss to their interests, without specifying in
what way. In a few days Jackson, (after finding that they had invited
Valamburg, of Ohio, Strider, Bowen, and Bryan, of Indiana, for
consultation,) could remain no longer, as he would be known by Valamburg
at once. He bade his friends good-by, saying he would travel through
the West and would return if it became important to do so. He left for
Toronto, remained there a day or so, and then came to Windsor, where he
remained for several days. Finally he met Henry, who had just returned
from Montreal to Windsor, where he was known as Henry Davis. He was
introduced by Henry to one Samuel Wintergreen, who was in the employ of
the Confederacy, or, in other words, of the rebels, getting everything
ready for raids on the cities and villages in Ohio and Illinois. This
man was very shy of Jackson, but spoke freely on all subjects save what
he was himself doing. Henry and he were chums and seemed to understand
each other perfectly.

[Illustration: Thomlinson and friends in Consultation 299]

“Wintergreen was from Thomlinson's town in the South, and was fully
trusted and posted by him with all their plans and schemes. The only
remark he made to Jackson was that he knew, from Mr. Thomlinson,
who Jackson was, and merely asked if he saw the burning of the
Will-o'-the-Wisp; to which Jackson replied in the affirmative. Jackson
and Henry had arranged so that they should leave for Detroit the next
day. Henry informed Wintergreen that he must visit Detroit on matters
of importance, and that he might, perhaps, be detained for some
considerable time, but that he would keep his eyes and ears open at
all times during his absence. The next morning Jackson and Henry met in
accordance with their agreement and immediately left for Detroit. Upon
arriving they drove directly to the house of Mr. Whitcomb, where they
found the old gentleman, his wife, and Seraine; James, her brother, now
a Lieutenant and Aide-de-Camp to Gen. Anderson, having some time prior
left for Allentown, in order to be with the General, where he had since
remained, giving to him every attention. While spending a pleasant
evening at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Whitcomb, in conversation, in
reference to the army, Henry remarked that he longed to be in the
cavalry service once more, so that he might get even for the suffering
he had experienced at the hands of our enemies while nearly starving to
death in Pine Forest Prison.

“Miss Seraine here spoke with much feeling, her eyes filling with tears
as she said: 'I think there are quite a sufficient number of your family
already in their graves by the hands of the rebels without any more of
you taking the chances of death that must be taken in the army.'

“'Yes,' said Jackson; 'and there seems to be one less at almost every
turn. I feel that my time will surely come sooner or later, before this
war closes.'

“This was uttered in such a sad and melancholy tone that Henry could not
for a moment control his feelings. Recovering, he said:

“'It does seem that our family are struggling against fate; just
think of the barbarous manner in which Harvey was killed, and see how,
recently, the fiendish bushwhackers murdered poor brother Stephen. Would
you not desire to be avenged on such wretches as these? Ever since I
heard this, which was but a short while ago, (first told me by Seraine,)
I have felt almost desperate, and certainly very revengeful.'

“'Yes,' said Jackson, 'revenge is saia to be sweet; but suppose you
cannot get it, and instead of being revenged, you lose your own life?'

“'That is not all, Capt. Lyon,' as Seraine called him by his title; 'Mr.
Henry Lyon promised me that he would not enter the service again, but
that he would stay at home and take care of his father and mother, and
I hope he will do so, and not break his promise to me. I have periled my
life for him, and would do the same again.'

“Henry clasped her in his arms and said: 'Seraine, I will do anything
for you, and now I want to say right here, in the presence of my
brother, that I am now and ever have been, ready to fulfill all of my
promises to you.'

“Seraine looked him in the face and said: 'I have never doubted you,
Henry, nor do I now.'

“'Jackson here interrupted, and turning to Henry, said: 'What are your
promises to Seraine?'

“'That she and I would become man and wife whenever she should say that
the time had arrived to have the marriage take place. Is it not so,
Seraine?'

“'Yes, Henry, that is true; but I have never thought that the proper
time had arrived.'

“'Well,' said Jackson, 'if you will allow me to suggest, I think the
time has now arrived. Seraine, your father and mother are growing old;
your only brother is in the army and may never return.' And to Henry he
said: 'Our mother and father are also growing feeble from so much grief.
Mother, I think, cannot survive very much longer, and all of us who are
now left, save yourself, are in the army. From our experience thus far
the future is not full of hope. You and Seraine may soon be all that are
left of both families, except, perhaps, some one or more of our parents.
Now, Seraine, let us get your father and mother to go with us to
ALLentown, and there, in the presence of both families who yet remain
above the sod, (save brother Peter, who cannot be with us,) have this
marriage solemnized. Henry, our mother and Jennie would be very happy
over this, and so would Mary Anderson and the children, all of whom love
Seraine very much.'

“By this time the tears were rolling down Seraine's cheeks. Henry stood
looking at her, and grasping her by the hand, when Jackson had finished,
he led her into the presence of her father and mother and told them the
proposition, and asked them to consent. They gave Seraine to Henry,
and blessed them both as their children. Seraine, in answer to Henry,
thought, in consideration of the whole situation, that the time had
come, and that she would acquiesce in the arrangements as proposed by
Jackson, who was happier now than he had been since the beginning of the
war, and so expressed himself to Seraine and Henry. The next day being
agreed upon for their departure for ALLentown, Jackson repaired to his
room, leaving Henry and Seraine together to talk over the details of
their prospective marriage.

“Leaving Detroit the following morning they arrived at my house in the
afternoon and found a warm welcome awaiting them, my wife and the two
other ladies of my household doing everything to make Seraine's father
and mother feel that they were more than merely welcome. When we were
all together Jackson became spokesman, and waxed quite eloquent over the
whole affair. When he had finished Gen. Anderson cried out:

“'Bravo! Bravo! Henry and Seraine!'

“My wife drew Seraine to her bosom as she would have taken a child, and
embraced her and wept, until, from sympathy, we all were overcome with
emotion. The family congratulated Henry. The two little girls did not
quite understand it all, and began plying us with questions until we
had to explain all about it, and tell them Seraine was going to be their
'aunty.' This delighted them, and they commenced climbing upon Henry's
lap, and questioning him about their 'Aunty Seraine,' until finally he
made his escape from the house.

[Illustration: Marriage of Henry and Seraine 313]

“The preliminaries were soon arranged, and Mr. Whit-comb and I procured
the necessary license. I then called in our minister, the Rev. Mr. Lowe,
who performed the marriage ceremony in the parlor of our home. We were
very happy that evening in celebrating Henry's and Seraine's wedding,
and seemed to have forgotten for the time being all our misfortunes
and griefs. In speaking of Seraine's success in visiting the Southern
prison-pens and rescuing Henry, I came very near letting out the secret
kept from her father and mother about the visit of Mary Anderson to the
President in order to rescue her brother, but caught myself in time
and changed the conversation. Our minister, a truly loyal man, was
most enthusiastic over the marriage, insisting that this was just as it
should be, and at the same time expressing some surprise that it had
not taken place before. I said to him that I felt so, but had not
interfered. I had allowed the two young people to arrange the matter to
suit themselves. I must confess, however, that I was well pleased, and
certainly should never have been satisfied if Henry had not married
Seraine. No more devoted woman ever lived.

“Just at this moment Aunt Martha announced tea. We all entered the
dining-room and sat down to tea, as she called it, but found, instead,
a right royal wedding feast, which all enjoyed exceedingly. Young
James Whitcomb, who had been very quiet during the evening, though very
attentive to his mother and father, now asked the minister if he thought
it right for him to keep from his parents anything pertaining to himself
which might distress them in his absence.

“Mr. Lowe replied that he thought they should know all. All turned
and looked at each other with surprise. The young man was silent for a
moment, and his great blue eyes filled with tears. He said:

“'I have never heretofore kept anything from my mother, father or
sister, and I am now fully determined to tell them all about myself.'

“We enjoyed our dinner, however, and joked Henry by telling him that
Seraine would have to look after him, as she had been doing all through
the war up to this time.

“Here Aunt Martha had to come in; we could not stop her. She said:

“'Yes, sah; dat gal takes kear of Marsa Henry. If it not done been
for her he done starved to deff, he would. Dem Sesh, dey be affer dis
fambly. Dey done kill mos' all, and am still affer you. I tells you, dey
am; I knows dem, I do. Marsa Henry, you mus' stay home wid de folks, you
mus'.'

“At this my wife became much distressed. I told Aunt Martha to stop,
which she did. Aunt Sarah then referred to Peter, saying that her dreams
were now entirely about him, and that she was sorely troubled on his
account. Ham stood near by, listening, and said:

“'No mistake, Marsa Peter all right. I see him las' night in my head
glass when I's sleep. He all right, sho'.'

“By this time we had finished dinner, or tea, and were returning to the
sitting room, when James Whitcomb took his parents out on the veranda
and told them all about his trouble, the kindness of our family, Mary
Anderson's trip to see the President, his clemency, etc.; his present
situation, and how he obtained his position. We thought that this was
a mistake, but he felt relieved, and his parents and sister, after they
were satisfied of his having done no wrong intentionally, felt that it
was the best for them to know it. We had intended it should be kept from
them, but it was now no longer a secret in my family, and it was perhaps
best that his father and mother should know all.

“The next day Mr. and Mrs. Whitcomb thought that they must return home.
Mr. Whitcomb said to Henry and Seraine that they must come as soon as
they could do so to their house and make it their home, as he and
his wife being alone at such a time it was very hard, and made them
discontented. They thanked all of us for our watchfulness over their
only son, and it seemed that they could not thank the General and his
wife sufficiently for what they had done for him. They bade us all
good-by and separated from Henry and Seraine with many regrets.

“After they had gone Jackson entertained us by a recital of his visit
to Europe, and, in addition to what he had written me, he gave us all he
had seen and heard. His recital of the burning of the Will-o'-the Wisp
was quite graphic, and excited Henry and the General very much. No one
except those who were in the secret knew what she had on board, nor the
importance to the Confederacy of the men that were lost with her. The
language used by Gen. Anderson against such fiendishness as Jackson's
statement disclosed I will not attempt to repeat. It was strong and
denunciatory, such only as men like himself, versed in letters, could
employ.

“I requested Jackson to make me a detailed report from the day he left
my house up to the date of his return, which he did. I retained a copy
of his report, and still have it. We did not call on Henry for his
report that day, but on the next told Henry that if he could leave
Seraine long enough (you know how young people are), we would like him
to tell us what he learned in Canada. I really did not suppose that he
could tell us a very great deal of interest, as I presumed he had spent
much of his time in Detroit, as there was an attraction for him in that
place which would naturally draw him thither. He said, however, that
he was ready to tell us all that he had discovered in reference to the
conspiracy; that when he went to Canada he formed the acquaintance of
a Mr. Samuel Wintergreen, and soon they became great friends, as he
satisfied Winter-green that he was ready to carry out any plan to aid
the Confederacy. The passwords, signs and grips of the Golden Circle
seemed to be all that any one needed in order to be at once recognized
as a friend to those people. In Canada the people, almost without
exception, were in sympathy with the rebellion. After traveling for
quite a while he came back to Windsor, and there again met his friend
Wintergreen. Remaining there for some time and talking with many persons
without any material results, Wintergreen invited Henry to accompany
him to Toronto, and finding nothing of importance there, they left for
Montreal On arriving at Montreal they found Jacob Thomlinson, C.
C. Carey, and many other distinguished men. Wintergreen met Jacob
Thomlinson, and reported to him that his friend of whom he had written
was with him. Thomlinson asked him to come to his rooms, and to bring
his friend Davis. That evening they visited Mr. Thomlinson, and found
Mr. Carey and two other gentlemen--a Mr. Landers and Ben Wudd. Henry was
presented as Henry Davis, one of the agents under Mr. Wintergreen who
was to assist (as it was then understood) in carrying out such plans
as might be agreed upon in the interest of the rebel or Confederate
Government.

“They remained together till a late hour discussing various points. One
of the topics was the great loss the Confederacy had sustained in the
burning of the Will-o'-the-Wisp, in the material, and by the death
of Prof. McCul-lough and Dr. Mears, as they alone held the secret of
manufacturing the wonderful explosive. Thomlinson and Carey insisted
that there should be no let-up, and that they must now resort to other
means, in which the other gentlemen agreed. It was thought best to try
releasing prisoners and arming them and such others as would join them,
and make portions of the North a desolate waste, as they said was now
being done in the South by the Union army. Thomlinson said in reference
to releasing prisoners that he intended in a very short time to make
preparations in Illinois for an attack on Camp Douglas, near Chicago.

“'I think,' said he, 'that will result in the burning of the city. It is
one of the worst places in the North. The influence of Lincoln over the
people there is very great, and extremely bad for us, and that city must
be destroyed by some means. If the Will-o'-the Wisp had not been lost,
Chicago would now be in ashes.'

“After some further discussion on this subject, all went their way
for the night, with an understanding that there would be a meeting
of delegates from the Northern States, called by Jacob Thomlinson,
to assemble at St. Catharines in one month from that time, where
many matters of interest would be discussed and considered. Henry and
Winter-green then returned to Windsor with the understanding that
they would attend the meeting at St. Catharines. At Windsor, Henry
and Jackson met, and that which followed their meeting I have already
stated. What Henry ascertained in Canada was only important in this,
that it had opened the way for discovering that which was important to
know, which probably would occur afterwards. I requested Henry to do as
Jackson was doing,--to write out his statement in full. After both
were prepared, I sent Henry with them to the President. He thought it a
little hard to be sent so summarily away from his bride. The President
received Henry with great kindness, and told him to inform me that the
whole matter had been more skillfully and successfully managed than
anything in this line since the war began. He also said, that he and the
Secretary of War could breathe freer since they had learned the fate of
the cargo of the Will-o'-the-Wisp, and that McCullough and M ears had
their deserts.

“The President requested Henry to continue his investigations, and
especially to attend the meeting of the leading Knights of the Golden
Circle, who were soon to meet at St. Catharines, in Canada, and send
through me, without delay, his report. The President inquired very
particularly about all our family, including Gen. Anderson and Jackson.
He also desired to know what had become of James Whitcomb and his
sister. Henry explained fully about them all, and when he mentioned that
Seraine was his wife, the President shook his hand most heartily, and
told him that he was a very fortunate man.

“When Henry returned home and had sufficient time for rest we held a
consultation, and agreed to the following plan: Henry was to start at
once with his wife for Detroit, leave her with her parents, and pass
over to Windsor, and there, in company with Wintergreen, visit all
places that Wintergreen might suggest, and then go to St. Catharines
to the meeting arranged for the delegates from the Golden Circle of the
Northern States; that when he had obtained information of any value, he
was to return to Detroit, write his report in full, give it to his wife
Seraine, and she was to come in person with it to me.”

“She was a jewel,” said Dr. Adams.

“Yes,” said Col. Bush; “there were but few like her.”

Uncle Daniel continued: “Our lines of communication now being safely
established, we were all anxious for Henry's departure; therefore, Henry
and Seraine left for Detroit, leaving all of us almost heartbroken to
be forced to give them up. But the hope of seeing them very soon again
reconciled us to some extent. The two children said they loved their
Aunty Seraine so much that they did not wish her to go away any more.
After they were gone, it now being far into the Winter--in fact, Spring
was approaching--Gen. Anderson said he felt that he could again take
the field and perform his duty without endangering his health, and
therefore must make preparations for returning to his command. We tried
to dissuade him from it, but it was of no avail, so the next day he told
the family that he should leave very soon. In the conversation he said
that he had felt all the time that there was a void in his military
family that could not easily be filled. He felt the loss of Capt. Day
very much, but said he would try James Whitcomb thoroughly and had
great hopes of him. Aunt Martha was near by and heard what was said. She
immediately hunted up Ham and said: 'Marsa Gen'l is gwine off to fight
dem Sesh agin, and I 'spect he want Ham to go, too.'

“Ham said: 'Well, Marfa, maybe he not want me any more. I's not well;
I's got dem pains in de knees and de breas' and de shouldars and de
stomach. What is it dey calls dem pains?'

“'Rumatiks, you ole fool; doesn't you know nuffin'?'

“'No, Marfa, I not know nuffln'; you know I doesn't. I 'spect you better
told de Gen'l, Marfa, I's sick. I go off and die wid dem pains, den what
you do, Marfa? You be all by yerself, and don't you see dat won't do,
Marfa. No, indeed, dat won't do.'

“'Well, now, Ham, I's not goin' to tell Marsa Gen'l no such way as dat.
No, sir. Ham, you jes' got to go wid de Gen'l; dat's what you do, so you
needn't be tucken sick jes' for to skeer me, kase I know you, Ham. You
no get kill. No, sah, no danger; so you jes' go, dats what you do.'

“'Well, Marfa, jes' as you say. If you say Ham go, he goes, dats all;
but de good Laud love you, Marfa, I's powerful sick, sho'.'

“'No you isn't; you play dat afore. I knows you, Ham; you knows I do.
You jes' stop dis rumatiks and go wid de Gen'l, dat's what you do. When
did you get sick? I not hear it afore. You not sick. Let me see you
walk.'

“Old Ham hobbled off and Martha laughed at him. This nettled the old man
and he straightened up and said: 'Well, I guess I's not bery bad, but
I's not well, all de same.'

“I came up to them, and nothing more was said.

“I told Ham to go out to the farm and ask Joseph Dent to come into my
house in the morning. His sickness all left him and he did the errand.
The next morning Dent came in with Ham and we interrogated him on the
question of his friends and what they were doing. He said that two days
prior to this they had a meeting and were notified that they must
change their name to the 'Sons of Liberty'; that the object of their
organization was becoming too well known, and that they could not
operate any longer under their old name. This was being done all over
the country and in Canada. He also stated that Thos. A. Stridor had
ordered them to send delegates to Indianapolis secretly, in order to
assist in appointing delegates to go to St. Catharines, in Canada, in
a few days, to consult as to the best means to be adopted to aid their
friends, as they had met with a great loss. They had lost a ship and a
valuable cargo, as well as their most important men who were to operate
in burning cities. This was so true of what had occurred that we no
longer had any doubt as to their certain communication one with another,
as well as their perfect organization. This was all they did at that
time. We excused Dent, and he returned home.

“That evening at tea my wife (Aunt Sarah) said to Jackson and the General
that she wished Peter to come home.

“'But,' said Jackson, 'mother, you must remember he has been promoted,
and is now a Brigadier-General commanding a brigade, and he cannot very
well get away. He might lose his command by leaving.'

“'Well,' said his mother, 'I want to see him. I am dreaming about him
whenever asleep, and I feel there is something sure to happen to him. I
have seen all the rest of you who are alive, and I want to see him.'

“Here Jennie broke down and cried, remembering the death of her poor
husband when mention was made of all being present who were then alive.
Jackson spoke to Jennie and his mother and quieted them. We all repaired
to the sitting-room and talked over Gen. Anderson's returning to his
command. This was Saturday evening. So he instructed Capt. Jackson and
Lieut. Whitcomb to be ready on Monday morning, as they would then
leave for Chatteraugus. They were well pleased with the General's
determination. His poor wife was depressed, and said she felt as though
he had made so many narrow escapes that perhaps he might not escape
again. But grief and sorrow had been such constant visitors at our house
that we were all prepared for almost anything, and always looking for
the worst. We enjoyed ourselves, however, as best we could until Monday.
Jackson took in the situation, and kept us interested by giving
accounts of many things seen and heard by him in England. This was very
interesting to us, but more especially to the ladies and little girls.

“On Monday they left for their command. The parting with the family was
one of those affecting scenes natural under the circumstances. When poor
old Ham bade good-by to all, after kissing Aunt Martha, his wife, he
turned to my wife and Mary Anderson, and said: 'You need not to cry no
mo.' I be 'sponsible for de General and Capt. Jackson.'

“This was too much for Mary Anderson. Although weeping, she could not
restrain a smile, nor could the others; but Ham was in good faith, poor
old man.

“After they had gone I felt keenly, and drove out to the farm, and there
spent the rest of the day with Joseph Dent. He, however, knew nothing
more than he had disclosed to us, about which I have already spoken. On
returning in the evening I found all the family very lonely and solemn.
They felt the loss of that portion of our family who were compelled
to leave. Our little children climbed upon my knees and talked and
chattered about their Uncle Henry and Aunty Seraine, as well as the
General and Jackson, but 'Aunty Seraine' seemed to be the favorite.
I did the best I could to gratify them by trying to answer their
questions. Some two weeks had passed in this way when one morning I was
notified to meet Seraine at the depot. I did so and brought her to the
house. When the very hearty and affectionate greetings were over, and
the two poor little girls had gotten through climbing on Seraine and
asking her questions, which she did the best she could to answer, she
gave me a paper which was Henry's report, accompanied by a good letter
from him, stating that he would come soon himself. This was not signed.

“I carefully examined his report, and was almost dumfounded at some of
his statements; but he had gone into such minute details and given such
indubitable proofs that no one could for a moment doubt. Henry said
that on his arrival again at Windsor he met Wintergreen, and after
preliminaries were arranged they traveled about the country from one
town to another, until the time had arrived for the assembling of the
prominent friends of the rebellion at St. Catharines in accordance with
Jacob Thomlinson's request. They started for that place, and on arriving
stopped at the Victoria Hotel, where they met a great number of persons,
strangers to both, but well known in the Circle. Henry, on recovering
from his prison starving and sickness, had grown quite stout, and was
so different in his appearance from what he had ever been prior to
his recovery that his own acquaintances would not have recognized him,
therefore he did not feel that he was in any danger of being detected.
He had heretofore claimed to Wintergreen that he was from Parkersburg,
W. Va., and having been raised near there in Ohio could speak quite
understandingly of the country thereabouts, as well as about a number of
people.

“On Wednesday, being the day fixed, quite a number of men from different
parts of the country assembled. Quite a large room in the rear of the
Victoria Hotel had been procured, in which the gentlemen were to meet,
and Wintergreen, having been designated by Jacob Thomlinson for that
purpose, notified the various delegates of the time and place of
meeting. When all were assembled each one was required to give the
signs, grips and passwords of the Golden Circle, or the 'Sons of
Liberty,' as the name had been changed within a few days from the
Knights of the Golden Circle to the Sons of Liberty. Henry did not
find the slightest difficulty in being recognized, as he had perfected
himself in all the signs, grips and passwords of the order in his
travels with Wintergreen.

“After Jacob Thomlinson, Mr. Carey and their committee were satisfied as
to those present, they were called to order and seated in as regular
a manner as would have been done in any deliberative body, by Mr.
Valamburg, of Ohio, who, in taking the chair, said that as Grand
Commander of all the Sons of Liberty in the United States, Canada and
the Southern Confederacy he desired to occupy the time of the delegates
for a few moments, in order that he might explain the object for which
they had met. The assembling at that place, he said, was in order to be
without the jurisdiction of the United States; that while together and
out of the way of danger they were to deliberate in reference to matters
that were best calculated to effectively aid the Southern people, who
were struggling for an independent constitutional government; that
the Government of the United States had become intolerable in its
oppressions and tyranny. He made a long speech, presenting a list of
abuses by our Government against the Southern people, and urged the
necessity for aid to the South at once, in some way that would be
most potent. When he took his seat he was loudly applauded by all his
hearers. In this meeting were B. Wudd and McMasterson from New York, Mr.
Woodsen and Mr. Moore from Pennsylvania, Valamburg and Massey from Ohio,
Dan Bowen and Dorsey (who was a substitute for Thos. A. Strider) from
Indiana, N. Judy Cornington and a Mr. Eagle from Illinois (both from
Chicago). Other States were represented--Missouri, Kentucky, Iowa,
Wisconsin, Maine and Massachusetts; but Henry did not give the names of
the delegates from those States.

“Many propositions were discussed. Jacob Thomlinson gave the full
details of what Prof. McCullough and Dr. Mears were preparing to do;
their loss by the burning of the Will-o'-the Wisp; also, Dr. Blackman's
proposition and the loss of his goods, and he now wanted to see what
could be devised as substitutes. All of the representatives present
seemed to deeply deplore the loss to the Confederacy of the secret only
known to the men who went down with the Will-o'-the Wisp.

“Jacob Thomlinson explained that he had been instructed by the
authorities at Richmond to lay several matters before this or any
meeting they might have of representative men from the North. It was
desirable to have these matters fully understood, so that the friends of
the South in their meetings could commit all who were willing to aid the
South in carrying out the various propositions. First, he would lay the
message of President Davis on only one important subject before this
meeting. It was dated January 13, 1863, and was in reference to the
Proclamation of Emancipation by Mr. Lincoln. Thomlinson said:

“'Mr. Davis claims that “by it the negroes are encouraged to general
assassination of their masters by the insidious recommendation to
abstain from violence unless in necessary self-defense. Although our
own detestation of those who have attempted the most execrable measures
recorded in the history of guilty man is tempered by profound contempt
for the impotent rage which it discloses so far as regards the action
of this Government on such criminals as may attempt its execution, I
confine myself to informing you that I shall, unless in your wisdom you
deem some other course more expedient, deliver to the several States'
authorities all commissioned officers of the United States who may
hereafter be captured by our forces in any of the States embraced in the
proclamation, that they may deal with them in accordance with the laws
of those States providing for the punishment of those criminals engaged
in inciting servile insurrection.”'

“At the conclusion of the reading of this extract loud cheers went up
for Jeff Davis. Jacob Thomlinson continued reading:

“'On the first day of May last the Confederate Congress passed a series
of resolutions. The fourth resolution declares that every white person,
being a commissioned officer, or acting as such, who during the present
war shall command negroes or mulattoes in arms against the Confederate
States, shall be deemed as inciting servile insurrection, and shall,
if captured, be put to death. The seventh resolution declares that all
negroes and mulattoes who shall engage in war, or shall be taken in
arms against the Confederate States, or shall give aid or comfort to
the United States, shall, when captured in the Confederate States, be
delivered to the authorities of the State or States in which they shall
be captured, to be dealt with according to the present or future laws of
such States.'

“After reading the message and resolutions, he said that in order to
understand the full scope of both, it would be proper for him to state
that the laws of all the Southern States for the crime of inciting
servile insurrection fixed the penalty of death, so that the meaning
of the whole proposition is, that any white man commanding negroes or
mulattoes, who shall be captured, shall suffer death, and it will be
the same when negroes or mulattoes are captured in arms against the
Confederacy. With this explanation he submitted these documents, which
were all printed and distributed in confidence, and in this way Henry
was enabled to give the whole proceedings. Mr. Valamburg decided that
the proposition might be debated, and on this being so determined, Dan
Bowen, of Indiana, arose and made a most inflammatory speech. He said
he was born in Virginia, and would stand by her in her trials. He was
in favor of Jeff Davis's message, and not only so, but would favor the
hanging of any white man who would lead negroes against his Southern
friends, and would sustain them in any measure of punishment that they
might adopt in such cases.

“Mr. Eagle, of Illinois, made quite a speech on the same line. He was
from Kentucky originally, and was for the South getting their rights at
any cost. He said: 'Let blood flow like rivers, sir. Yes, sir; let fire
rain upon Northern cities, and let the destruction of property become
general, if necessary to produce the desired result. You must make the
Northern people feel poverty, sir, if you wish to succeed. They care
more for their property than for their lives. You must touch their
pockets and then you touch their hearts. They are a fast-going people.
I would just as lief as not they would know after the war is over, if
it ever is, that I was in this meeting. No matter how the war may
terminate, they will forget it all in a month, especially if times are
good and money shall be plenty.'

“This caused a great laugh, and the speaking ended. The question was
taken and decided unanimously in favor of the proposition. None but
delegates were allowed to vote.

“Mr. Carey then presented his views, which were that their Northern
friends must encourage raids and guerrilla warfare in their own States,
and that they must commence it themselves. Burning must be resorted to
when it could be done. He said that it had been so managed at Camp Chase
in Ohio, by their friend, the Grand Commander of the Sons of Liberty,
that a great many very excellent Confederate officers had made their
escape, and were ready at any time to take command of men whenever their
friends were ready, and that those officers were brave and fearless men
ready to undertake any kind of enterprise or daring exploit. He did
not look for any more foolish expeditions like the one made by Gen.
Morganson. That it was not successful is easily understood. The Southern
people were in too great haste in trying raids by large bodies of men
where there were no lines of escape or retreat.”

“Yes,” said Col. Bush; “they counted their chickens before they were
hatched.”

“I think they were stale eggs,” said Capt. Inglesby.

“Mr. Carey said,” continued Uncle Daniel, 'We have now entered upon
a system of small raids and destruction of property, so as to be very
effective. And although we fear that we cannot repair our loss in
the kind of material we had secured and had on board of the
Will-o'-the-Wisp, yet we may, by good management, in some degree
compensate for it, and, in order that you may understand how we propose
to operate, I will read to you the order of the Secretary of War of
the Confederate States to one J. C. S. Blackman, the brother of Dr.
Blackman, whose poisoned goods were lost on the Will-o'-the-Wisp. The
order is dated Richmond, 1863, and signed J. A. Seddon, Secretary of
War, C. S. A., authorizing Blackman to enlist a company of men, not to
exceed fifty in number, for special service on the Mississippi River. In
lieu of pay or other compensation they are to receive such percentage of
the value of all property of the United States or loyal people destroyed
by them as may be awarded by an officer selected by the Department in
charge of such duty, but in no case to exceed fifty per centum of the
value.'

“Carey said that under this order it was understood as soon as Blackman
should enlist twenty-five men for this purpose he was to receive a
commission in the provisional army without pay. This commission was for
his protection in case he should be captured. Said he:

“'We are now issuing quite a number of these commissions, and much
good has already resulted. Blackman has destroyed a great quantity of
property on the Mississippi and Ohio Rivers. A man by the name of J.
G. Beall, who holds a like commission, has destroyed a great amount of
supplies and other property on the Chesapeake. He is near here now,
has a vessel, and is recruiting men for the Sons of Liberty in New York
city, with a view of running over to St. Albans, in Vermont, and is not
only to destroy property, but is to terrify those rich old Vermont Yanks
out of their wits. It is by such means that we must alarm the Northern
property-holders into peace measures and into voting the anti-war
ticket. This is the only sure way to success, in my opinion.'

“They all laughed and agreed that a St. Alban's raid would be a splendid
thing, as the old Yankees would do anything to save their money and
property. Mr. Carey continued:

“'I think Mr. Beall is known to Mr. Wudd and Mr. McMasterson.'

“They both replied that they knew him well, and he could be relied upon
to do whatever he should undertake.

“'Now,' said Mr. Carey, 'the prisoners at Camp Douglas, near Chicago,
Ill., and at Camp Chase, in Ohio, must be released. Mr. Thomlinson has
the money to pay all expenses. Cannot you men in the Northern States
assist in this? Can you not get up organizations such as Blackman and
Beall have done? The Richmond authorities will pay the same percentage
for the destruction of all property necessary for the use of the army,
as they do Blackman and Beall. Why, gentlemen, crops enough might be
destroyed in one night by a simultaneous move to very badly embarrass
the prosecution of the war.'

“A man by the name of Burnett H. Yonkers, who was present, said he would
undertake to release the Camp Douglas prisoners if the gentlemen here
from Chicago would render their assistance, to which the gentlemen
replied that they would give any aid in their power; that already there
had been arms sufficient for this purpose secured by Thomlinson and
placed in the hands of a friend in Chicago by the name of Wall; that if
Mr. Yonkers should go to Chicago on that business he should stop at the
Richmond House and inquire for Mr. John Wall, Mr. Morris Buckner, or
either of the gentlemen present; that any of the clerks of the Richmond
House would know where to send for either of the persons mentioned.

“Mr. Walters, of Arkansas, being present, (the same that Gen. Anderson
met in Colestown, Ill.,) and being one of the chief Organizers, was
asked in reference to the condition of the Sons of Liberty. He said he
had been traveling for more than a year in the Northern States. He had
never been molested, nor had he been questioned as to his business. He
had organized thousands of Lodges and found the friends--that is to say,
the common people, who connected themselves with the order--ready
and willing to act at any time, and willing to do anything that was
required. The only trouble he found was in the cowardice of the leaders.
To illustrate what he meant, he said: 'I came from Indianapolis here.
Thos. A. Stridor promised me faithfully that he would be here, but
you do not see him. He is the one man of all others in the West who is
expected to advise and suggest.'

“Dan Bowen here interrupted, saying: 'Strider has been at work. He has
been in Washington, and has sown seeds of dissension in the army; has
created jealousies between the Eastern and Western commanders, and
produced much trouble on account of the Emancipation Proclamation.'

“'Yes,' said Col. Walters, 'that I believe to be true; but why is he not
here? I see he sends a substitute; is he afraid? Mr. Eagle was correct
when he said the people of the North will forget all about the war in a
month, if you will only give them a chance to make money. I can go into
any city and proclaim myself in sympathy with the rebellion, and no one
will molest me. If we should fail, and our cause go down, it would not
be one year before Jeff Davis would be invited to attend agricultural
shows North, so as to draw a crowd and increase the gate money.' This
caused great laughter. 'I want now to ask my friend Bowen why his friend
Thos. A. Strider is not here.'

“'Well,' said Bowen, 'I cannot say. I had hoped that he would be here,
but I find he is not.'

“Mr. Eagle, who seemed to be rather sarcastic, said he understood
Strider was compelled to stay at home on account of a cow case in which
he was employed. They laughed at this, and then proceeded to business.
The propositions and suggestions were all indorsed, and many promises
made on the part of each one present as to the part he would take in the
matter when he returned home.

“Jacob Thomlinson said to Mr. Yonkers that he wished him to remain a day
or so longer, as he desired to confer with him about the prisoners at
Chicago. He then made quite an address to those present, saying the
success of the Confederacy depended largely upon their friends in the
North; that if the war continued two or three years longer the supply of
men and money would fail. All their available men were in the army, and
there was now nowhere whence they could draw recruits. Their friends in
the North must wake up and help. They had friends enough in the North to
make the Confederacy a success in six months, if they would only come up
to the work manfully. “'Let our friends do as our friend Carey suggests,
get up raids, organize companies for spoils; this is seductive and
calculated to gather in young men. We will release our men who are now
prisoners and turn them loose full of fiendish revenge, and alarm our
enemies into peace measures. You who are our friends in the North must
go home determined to carry the next election. This is important. If we
can defeat Lincoln at the next Presidential election we are safe. The
watchword must be that the war has been a failure; that the North cannot
subdue the South; that foreign countries are ready to recognize the
Confederacy, which will involve the United States in other wars; that
the people are being taxed unmercifully; that the war should stop and
the unbearable taxation cease. Your next Democratic platform should
start out with the proposition that the war has been prosecuted only
for the freedom of the negroes, and not for the Union, and that their
freedom can only be maintained by the Union armies being entirely
successful, and that during years of horrible, bloody war the Government
has failed to conquer the rebellion and must continue to fail. Do this,
and stand by it with a good candidate, and you must succeed. I would
suggest that you take your “Little Napoleon,” General Mac, for your
candidate. He is exceedingly popular with the soldiers of the East,
and with the people also, as I am told. The sympathy will be with him,
having been relieved from the command of the Eastern armies because
he could not whip us, which was no fault of his, as none of their
commanders will succeed in doing that on our own ground. We were foolish
to undertake an invasion of the North. But no matter, we will soon make
up for this. If you will take up Little Mac there will be no trouble in
your giving him the nomination, and then one united effort on the part
of our party will send him into the White House. If he can be elected
that will end the war, as he is a peace man and a Democrat. We would
then have another advantage. Many of the officers of the Union army of
the East do not believe in our subjugation, and are bitterly opposed
to the Emancipation Proclamation. Some of them have large commands.
For instance, there is Gen. Farlan, who is a friend of mine of long
standing; he is violently opposed to the Lincoln administration, and
would at once favor a cessation of hostilities. So also is Gen. Smite
and General Cross, both leading Generals. I may also mention Gen.
Fitzgibbon. He has been ready for some time to stop the war, because he
is thoroughly satisfied that we have been wronged and oppressed. He is
in favor of putting Little Mac in as President. He would be ready for
peace on our terms, which would be to withdraw the Union forces and let
us alone. We have been robbed of our property, but should we gain our
independence we care nothing for this, as we would reclaim our slaves,
such as have not been stolen by the Abolition army. This, gentlemen, is
what we desire and expect you to aid us in securing. If these things
all fail us we will, in our desperation, make the homes of many of your
Northern men miserable and desolate.'

“When he was through with his suggestions they all cheered him, and each
one, by short speeches, pledged a faithful adherence to the Confederacy.
When they adjourned it was to meet again at some place in Canada to be
named by Jacob Thomlinson, and the representatives to be notified by Mr.
Valamburg. They separated with three cheers for the Confederacy.”

Dr. Adams said: “I am desirous of knowing if Jacob Thomlinson and Mr.
Carey are the same persons whom your son Jackson met in London?”

“Yes; they are the same men who were engaged in procuring explosives and
poisoned clothes, of which I have heretofore given you a full account.”

Col. Bush asked if this man Blackman, who took out a commission in order
to depredate and plunder, is still living?

“Yes, he is not only living, but is now holding one of the highest
positions in the United States, as a Reformer.”

“What?” said Dr. Adams.

“Yes, sir, as I once before have stated, his brother, who was to
distribute poisoned clothing to our soldiers and in our hospitals, was
made Governor of one of the adjacent States, and this marauder has been
given one of the highest and most honorable positions. But why? You look
surprised, Doctor. Has this not been so ever since the war? The most
desperate and reckless men have been given the highest places by the
opponents of the war, while our people, many of them, are only too glad
to find something against one of our good soldiers as an excuse for
laying him aside as useless furniture.”

Said Maj. Clymer: “Valamburg is dead, I believe.”

“Yes; he shot himself accidentally soon after the war, and died of his
wound.”

Uncle Daniel proceeded by saying: “I made my arrangements to leave for
Washington at once, in order to have this information in the hands of
the President as soon as possible. I requested Seraine to remain with
the rest of the family until I should return, as I might wish to send
some word to Henry. When I arrived at Washington and called upon the
President I told him the reason I had not visited him recently, and why
I had sent my son with the last report. Our afflictions had been severe
and my wife was in such a condition, both in mind and body, that
I really feared to leave her, except under very extraordinary
circumstances. The President was very glad to see me and very grateful
for what my sons were trying to do for our country He asked after the
health of my family, Gen. Anderson, and all of whom he knew as in any
way a part of us, and the poor man seemed almost as much grieved over
our misfortunes as myself. He seemed to be full of hope, however, and
spoke to me very freely about the war and our chances of final success.

“He strode across the room and, turning to me, said: 'We are now on the
right road, I think. I have rid myself of some of those Generals that
we spoke about when we last met, and I intend to be rid of them for
the remainder of the war. If they want dictators, and will not obey the
President, they will have to organize outside of the army. I have now
a new commander for the Army of the East who seems to be doing well. I
hope he may continue as he began. He won the battle of Gotlenburg and
broke the rebel army to pieces. 'I think,' said he, 'that Gen. Meador
should have followed up his victory; but perhaps not. If he should not
exactly fill the bill my eye is on a Western man who seems to know what
he is about, and I think of bringing him East and giving him control of
all the armies; but I will determine this later.'

“I then gave him the statement made to me by Henry. He read it over
carefully, and in an excited manner ordered a messenger to go for the
Secretary of War. He soon arrived, and after greetings the President
handed the statement to the Secretary. He also read it carefully. They
then discussed the matter, and concluded to order an additional force
to Camp Chase, relieve the commandant, and place a more careful and
efficient officer in his place. This was done by telegraph, with a
warning to the new commander to look out for an attempt to release the
prisoners.

“The Secretary said to the President: 'The rebels are desperate, and
since they lost their shipload of explosives and poisoned clothes, with
their two friends who were to carry out their plans, they are determined
to attempt something else equally desperate, and we must look for raids,
fire and plunder. By the way,' said the Secretary to me, 'that was
rather a nice thing your son Jackson did in finding out all their
schemes in London. Had it not been for his discovery we never would have
known the desperation and infamy to which those men were driven.'

“'Yes,' said the President. 'Mr. Lyon, is he your eldest son now in the
army?'

“'I have but two left in the army--Jackson and Peter. The latter you
promoted for gallantry at Middleton Ridge. Jackson is now my oldest son
in the service.'

“'Mr. Secretary,' said the President, 'you will make out a commission
for him as Brigadier-General, and give it to Mr. Lyon to take home with
him as an evidence that we appreciate the services of his family, and
especially Jackson's great service in this most important matter.'

“I was visibly affected. The President saw it as he stood by a window
for a moment. I arose and thanked him. He said:

“'No, the obligation is the other way.'

“Just then a dispatch was handed the President, stating that quite
a number of prisoners had escaped from Camp Chase. He gave it to the
Secretary, saying:

“'I guess we were a little late in removing the commander of Camp Chase;
it ought to have been done sooner. Mr. Lyon,' said the President to
me, 'we will have to watch those fellows. They are doubtless up to some
game.'

“He asked me to keep Henry in Canada if I thought he could do good by
staying there. I promised him to do so, and after getting Jackson's
commission and bidding the President good-by I left for home, feeling
gratified at the recognition given me. Arriving at home, I found my
wife better, and when she found that Jackson had a commission as
Brigadier-General she seemed so happy that we felt that she would
entirely recover.

“I placed Jackson's commission in an envelope with a letter explaining
how the President came to promote him. When the boy returned from the
post-office he brought me a morning paper containing an account of
Beall's raid on St. Albans, Vt.; how he had sacked the town, robbed the
banks and alarmed the people. I said to Seraine, 'There it is! They have
carried out the first part of their program, and we will soon hear
of trouble in all the prison camps. I regard this as the beginning of
desperate work.'

“'Yes,' said Seraine; 'Henry was very sure that they were desperately
in earnest; but I thought, perhaps, the warning we had given to the
President might save any further disaster in that direction.'

“Seraine remained about a week longer, and then left for Detroit. I
sent a letter to Henry, directing him to remain in Canada as long as
necessary to find out when, where and how they were to move and operate.
My poor wife was soon taken ill again, and was quite feeble and almost
helpless for some weeks. Aunt Martha was constantly by her bedside,
waiting on her, as well as trying to entertain her with her curious
interpretations of dreams and her experience while in slavery. My
friends, this did not last a great while. More sorrows soon came to us.”




CHAPTER XVII.

     MOBS IN THE NORTH.--LAWLESS VIOLENCE AND OUTRAGE BY REBEL
     SYMPATHIZERS.--THE CLASH OF ARMS.--BATTLE OF THE CHAPARRAL
     BETWEEN GEN. SILENT AND GEN.  LAWS.

     “One day thou wilt be blest,
     So still obey the guiding hand that fends
     Thee safely through these wonders for sweet ends.”
      --Keats.

“After the battle of Middleton's Ridge some rest for Papson's troops was
indispensable. As soon, how-ever, as it could be done consistently
with the condition of things, Gen. Silent issued orders from his
headquarters, then at Nashua, to Papson and Sherwood for a disposition
of the troops to be made so as to protect the lines of communication
between Louis City, Nashua and Chatteraugus north, and from Chatteraugus
to Bridgeton, Huntersville and De Kalb west. This distribution was
speedily made. The enemy was in no condition for serious offensive
movements, and contented himself during the Winter with a continuous
harassing of our troops whenever found in squads or small commands not
sufficiently strong to make effective resistance.

“Near Huntersville a man by the name of John Cotton, with somewhere
between fifty and one hundred men, was constantly raiding small corrals
where only a few guards were left to watch them. His business seemed to
be to steal mules and wagons, being one of the parties operating under a
contract to plunder for fifty per cent, of the property so taken. He had
the same authority and character of commission from the authorities at
Richmond as Blackman and Beall, of whom I have heretofore spoken. During
the Winter this man crossed the Little Combination River near Painter's
Rock, and made a raid on Gen. Chas. Ward's corrals. Ward had been
notified of the intention of John Cotton by a Union man named Harris,
who resided near Huntersville. Gen. Ward had a company of infantry under
cover near the corral, and about midnight Cotton made his appearance.
The men who were watching for him remained quiet until he was near the
corral, and then fired a volley into his raiders, killing three and
wounding ten. They then rushed at Cotton, and he, with nine of his men,
were taken prisoners. The wounded were cared for and the dead buried.
The next day Gen. Ward organized a drumhead court-martial and tried
those captured who were not wounded. The nine men claimed to have been
forced into the service by Cotton, and were sent to Nashua and put to
work, under sentence. John Cotton was treated differently. He was not
troublesome again during the time that our troops remained at Painter's
Rock. The understanding South and North among the friends of the
rebellion was that raids were again to commence whenever they could be
made at all advantageous to our enemies.

“The Knights of the Golden Circle, or 'Sons of Liberty,' began to be
open and bold in their utterances and their villainous work. In New York
they aroused their friends and got up mobs of such magnitude that they
could only be suppressed by withdrawing troops from the field to operate
against them. The recruiting offices were mobbed, offices and papers
burned, and the officers brutally beaten; houses were set on fire in
great numbers and destroyed. Many large stores were broken open and
plundered by the mob. All helped themselves to dry goods, clothing,
jewelry, watches, and whatever they discovered. Innocent men were
brutally murdered in the streets. Women were driven from their houses
and insulted in every possible way. Hospitals and asylums for orphans
were plundered and burned, and the poor, helpless inmates driven into
the streets. Children were clubbed and brained by brutes for no other
reason than that they were colored. Wounded and sick soldiers were
thrown on the sidewalks and left without aid or assistance of any kind.
Poor negro men were taken from hacks and wagons and hanged to lampposts.
In one instance a poor man was cut into halves as if he were a
slaughtered beast. Men were sent from Canada, employed by Thomlinson
and his co-conspirators, to come to New York and aid in this inhuman
butchery.”

“My God! What brutality and inhuman cruelty! It does seem impossible
that such things could have transpired in a civilized community!” said
Dr. Adams.

“Yes,” continued Uncle Daniel, “it would really seem so. Yet these
things did not only take place, but were carried on here in the North
by the anti-war party, and were well known by all who were old enough
at the time to understand matters; but they are now forgotten. Why, sir,
mob violence was resorted to in many places. Inflammatory speeches were
made in every community where they would be tolerated. Our people were
alarmed everywhere in the North, and were preparing for great trouble at
home in the absence of the army. Indiana was stirred up to white heat.
Many outrages were perpetrated on the State soldiers who returned home
on a furlough, and in many instances they were murdered. One old man by
the name of Banty, who had two sons in an Illinois regiment--they being
residents of that State at the outbreak of the rebellion--was tied to
a tree in the woods some distance from home, and remained in this
condition till rescued by his wife. It became so intolerable that troops
were held at Indianapolis for protection to the city and country. The
Governor, as well as other citizens, were threatened:

“In Ohio the same condition of things existed. Camp Chase was about to
be attacked. Troops had, of necessity, to be sent for the safe keeping
of the prisoners.

“At Coleston, Ill., the Knights of the Golden Circle attacked a squad
of Union soldiers, who had just returned home from the army on furlough,
and killed seven of them. In one county further south in Illinois, the
name of which I have forgotten, there were quite a number of soldiers
killed in secret. A man by the name of Geo. Akers, who had once been
Sheriff of the County, but at the time of which I am speaking was the
Head Center of the Golden Circle in that part of the country, was so
strongly suspected of having soldiers quietly 'put out of the way,' that
a search of his premises was made by a Provost Marshal, and in his
mill, which was on his place, were found many suits of Union soldiers'
uniforms, evidently taken from dead bodies. He was put in prison, but
was aided to escape by his brother conspirators. In the same County a
soldier by the name of Stacks, while home on a furlough, was called
to his own door in the night and shot by one Honeycliff. I give these
instances merely to have you understand the feeling and determination
of the men in the North who sympathized with the rebellion, to aid it in
all ways and by any means, no matter how foul or vile.”

“Uncle Daniel,” said Col. Bush, “I know about Akers and the cases you
mention in Illinois, as I was sent there at that time with a battalion
to look after those fellows, and you do not tell one-half the trouble
there was in that part of the country.”

“No, I presume not; I only remember these facts in regard to matters in
that State that fastened themselves irrevocably upon my mind.”

Said Dr. Adams: “It seems incredible that such things could have
happened in the North, where the same men now claim to have been loyal
then.”

“But, Doctor,” said Col. Bush, “all these things did occur, though they
are now forgotten by many, and our young people, who know very little
about the war, except such things as they may gather from imperfect and
distorted histories, doubt the truthfulness of these facts, being unable
to understand why traitors should go unpunished. Why, Doctor, many of
the men who were harassing and alarming the people then as Knights of
the Golden Circle, are now the leading men in the communities where
they were then the most offensive to Union people and disloyal to their
Government. They have so managed as to be at the front politically, and
if affairs continue as they are now, and seem tending, very soon the
same men will claim that they put down the rebellion. They have already
deceived many by their self-assertion. You see, Doctor, the policy of
not allowing ourselves to speak of the war nor any of its concomitants,
leaves the young people in ignorance of what we suffered during its
existence.”

“That is true, I am sorry to say,” replied Dr. Adams; “but we who do
know all about it should teach the present and coming generations
these very important facts. The difficulty is, however, that when you
undertake it many people insist that they wish to forget all about
it, and that they do not want their children to know anything of its
horrors. But, Uncle Daniel, please continue what you were telling us.”

“The Richmond authorities,” said Uncle Daniel, “had detached a portion
of Biggs's command under Gen. Brice, some 20,000 strong, and sent
them into Missouri, where they had made the homes of many Union people
desolate, and spread terror throughout that State and a portion of
Kansas. Brice had organized bands of marauders and bushwhackers, as they
were termed, in the same way and under the same character of agreements
as made with Blackman and others. Quartel's and Stringfinder's bands
were the most destructive to life and property, murdering Union men as
they moved, and making the country a desolate waste through which they
passed. The smoke rising from houses, barns, etc., could be seen in
every direction. It could well have been termed 'a pillar of cloud by
day and a pillar of fire by night.'

“At the same time the rebel cruisers were a terror on the high seas. The
Alabama, the Florida, and the Shenandoah were a dreaded scourge among
our merchantmen. Our commerce was being driven from the seas and passing
under the flags of other countries.

“'All these things were very discouraging to the loyal people of our
country, and at the same time greatly encouraged the rebels and their
allies and friends in the North. The demagogues of the anti-war party
traversed the whole country, haranguing the people, preaching peace and
crying high taxes, and insisting that the war had so far been a total
failure, and that it would not be any better in the future. In fact,
they were carrying out to the letter that which had been suggested by
Valamburg and his friends at St. Catharines, in Canada, at the meeting
about which I have heretofore spoken. Many of our best men had to return
home from the army for a brief period and canvass as stump orators
before the people, in order to quiet their apprehensions and fears as to
the chances of our ultimate success.”

“Yes,” said Capt. Inglesby, “I well remember the very great anxiety then
amongst our people. I returned home about the time mentioned, and the
question was constantly asked me if I thought we could ever suppress the
rebellion. All our successes during the Summer and Fall before seemed
to have had only a temporary effect upon our people. In fact, they were
easily discouraged during the whole period through which the war was
continued.”

“Yes, Col. Bush, that is easily accounted for. We left behind us an
element nearly or quite a majority; certainly so in many parts of our
country North, which was constantly decrying the war and the means which
were being used against the rebellion. Their constant talk in the same
direction could not help having a great influence, especially on the
minds of weak men, aud in many instances on those whose nearest and
dearest relatives were in the army taking the chances of their lives;
and, as you all well know, these pretended friends to our faces were in
their hearts wishing and praying for the success of our enemies.”

“Yes, that is true; and it was strange and hard to understand at the
time, as these same people could have gained nothing by the success of
the rebellion. They lived North, and would have been equally despised by
the rebels (if they had succeeded) as a part of the Yankee Nation.”

“Doubtless that would have been so, but it was not particularly the love
that they had for the rebels or their cause, but their hatred for the
party in power. They had been in power so long, that being ousted by
the voice of the people made a number of the leaders who had lost in the
political contest feel a desire to see the people who had beaten them
lose in the contest against the rebellion. They had said so many bitter
things against Mr. Lincoln and prophesied war and final separation
between the slave and free States, that they were willing to see the
country destroyed in order to be considered among the people as wise
oracles and political prophets; so that they made it their interest
politically that the rebellion should succeed. Many people were
followers of these men in all the States North. Out of this feeling grew
and prospered the Knights of the Golden Circle, or Sons of Liberty.”

“Well, gentlemen,” said Dr. Adams, “I agree with all you have said; but
I am growing somewhat impatient to again hear Uncle Daniel.”

All were again listeners, and Uncle Daniel proceeded:

“I was speaking of the alarming condition of the country and the dangers
that were menacing peaceful citizens, as well as their property. I
became very much alarmed for the safety of the two families left in my
charge. I sent a letter to Henry to come with his wife and make my house
his home for the present. He and Seraine came at once, and were willing
as well as happy in remaining with us for a while, Seraine feeling
satisfied that, as her parents were two such quiet people, no harm could
come to them. After the excitement and confusion created by the delight
in the household over their arrival subsided, Henry took me aside and
related his experience since leaving home.

“He said that he remained quietly in Detroit for some time at his wife's
home. Then he went to Windsor, and there learned that the people of the
Confederacy were very much disheartened, but were making a desperate
effort to harass the armies of the Union, without fighting great
battles, until their armies were recuperated and filled up with new
recruits; that the plan was for their friends to confuse and excite the
Northern people, just as they were doing. He stated Jacob Thomlinson's
plans just as they were being literally carried out. After these plans
were well on the way in the direction of being fully executed, C. C.
Carey left for Richmond, and Jacob Thomlinson for London, accompanied by
Mr. Wintergreen, who was to act as his private secretary. On separating
from Carey the understanding was that they would remain away from Canada
until the political canvass for President had well advanced and until
after the nominations by both parties had been made. During their
absence they were to ascertain what new plans were being executed and
what new schemes could be put into operation during the Fall and Winter
following. Henry said the one mentioned was the only one matured, and
that was being carried out.

“Gen. Silent had now been promoted and ordered East, and Gen. Sherwood
put in command of the Center, with orders to make a campaign South,
pushing and pressing the enemy at every point possible. This movement
was to and did commence at the earliest possible moment in the Spring
following. Simultaneously with this a movement was made in the East
against the capital of the Confederacy.

“One evening, a few days prior to Gen. Silent's departure for the
East in pursuance of his orders, while walking out on the bank of the
Combination River a short distance from Nashua, as the shadows of night
were quietly gathering about him, a form seemed to stand before him,
which, from its appearance and the flowing white robes in which it was
arrayed, he at once recognized as the strange specter that had appeared
to him while sitting on a stone beneath a tree at Chatteraugus. Gen.
Silent was startled for a moment, but stood still with eyes fixed upon
the apparition. Finally a light, beautiful and dazzling, shone around
the figure. He did not move. It approached him, saying in a subdued,
soft and melodious voice:

“'Gen. Silent, you have been selected to forever wipe out the crime
of slavery. This can only be done by suppressing the rebellion now
in progress against your Government, which must be completed within
fourteen months from this day or all will be lost. Start East at
once; take no rest with either of your great armies until this is
accomplished. All is with you. The matter is exclusively in your hands.'

“After speaking thus, the specter disappeared and all was still. He
stood for a moment, bewildered. When he had collected his thoughts he
turned and walked rapidly to his quarters, which were at the Nashua
House. He entered his room and sat for some time in deep meditation.
While at Victor's Hill he had thought of moving his army across to
Mobile, and thence to Savannah and North to the rear of Richmond. He was
not a superstitious man, but at the same time was forced by what he
had seen and heard that night to consider well that which seemed to be
before him. The condition of the armies of the Union, and also that of
the rebels, was taken in at one grasp of the mind. The East and West
were carefully considered, and a plan seemed to be placed before
him that would certainly be successful. The whole question of the
suppression of the rebellion seemed to be disclosed to his mind, and
indelibly photographed thereon, as if in a vision from on high. He could
see his Army of the West and Center combined under one commander, making
their way against obstinate resistance to the sea; and then coming north
to the rear of Richmond, breaking the shell of the Confederacy as it
marched. At the same time he saw the great rebel army of the East,
under Laws, in Virginia, melt away before him, driven, demoralized, and
finally captured. This all seemed to be a dream, and yet it was the true
method to pursue in order to put down the rebellion. These things were
at once firmly fixed in his mind, and thus he would undertake to bring
success, should he be selected as the commander of all the armies of the
Union, as had just been indicated to him.

“Just then a rap was head at his door. 'Come in,' was the response, and
Gen. Anderson entered. Gen. Silent met him with great cordiality and
asked him to be seated. They conversed for some time on the subject of
the war and the probabilities of success.

“Finally Gen. Anderson said: 'General, this war can be concluded in but
one way, and that is by desperate fighting. The armies on both sides
are made up of Americans, each believing they are right, and numbers and
endurance will finally determine the contest, provided our people do
not become alarmed at the constant cry for peace by the Northern Golden
Circles and other sympathizers with the South.'

“'That is true,' said Gen. Silent; 'I feel more bitterness towards those
Northern croakers and sympathizers than I do toward the rebels in the
South, who take their lives and put them in chance for what they believe
to be right. Wrong as they are, they are better men than those who are
behind us trying to discourage us, and to encourage the rebels, without
the nerve to fight on either side.'

“'Yes,' said Anderson; 'I fully agree with you. Allow me to ask at about
what time will our Spring campaign begin?'

“'At the very first moment that we can move on the roads in safety. I am
now sending Sherwood with what troops are within his call from Victor's
Hill east to Meredith, breaking railroads, destroying bridges, etc., so
that when we commence our movements in the Spring, Biggs will have no
line save the one due south or east. We will then force him into the
extreme South or cause him to make a junction with the army in the East,
under Laws, where our Army of the West and Center must pursue him. The
destruction of the two great rebel armies must be our task. This done,
the rebellion will be at an end. This must be accomplished within the
next fourteen months; sooner if we can, but within that time we must
succeed, if at all, and I have no doubt whatever of a final triumph. The
Almighty is only permitting the continuation of this struggle in order
that the people shall become thoroughly satisfied with the destruction
of slavery. Whenever that time comes He will give our enemies over into
our hands.'

“'Gen. Silent, your faith is certainly very strong.'

“'Yes; I am now thoroughly convinced in my own mind that within the time
mentioned our enemies will be at our feet. I am going East, where I am
ordered by the President for some purpose. I intend to lay my whole
plan before him and urge its adoption, believing that if followed the
rebellion will end as I have stated. Would you like to go East, Gen.
Anderson, if I should wish you to do so?'

“'I would certainly not disobey your orders, Gen. Silent, but I have
a good command, and one with which I am well acquainted, and perhaps I
would be of more service by remaining with it than by taking a new one.
I did have a great desire to be ordered East when I was sent here, but
the reasons for that desire do not now exist.'

“Gen. Anderson then, in confidence, related to Gen. Silent what had
transpired at McGregor's headquarters the evening after the battle at
Antler's Run, which astonished Gen. Silent. He sat for some time without
making any remark. Finally he asked if the President and the Secretary
of War had this information.

“Gen. Anderson replied that they had.

“Gen. Silent smiled, but said not a word. The conversation on this
subject then dropped. Gen. Silent inquired if he believed in dreams.

“Gen. Anderson answered in the negative; at the same time he said he had
heard on one or two occasions of very strange dreams, and one especially
that he was watching closely to see if it would turn out in accordance
with an interpretation given to it by a person whom he well knew.

“Gen. Silent then asked him if he had ever seen anything that he could
not understand or account for.

“'No, sir,' replied Gen. Anderson.

“Gen. Silent said no more, and it then being quite late they separated.
Gen. Silent left early next morning for the East. As soon as he could
reach Washington he appeared at the Executive Mansion and had an
interview with the President, when he was informed that he had been
ordered East with a view of putting him in command of all the armies of
the United States. He did not exhibit the least surprise at this, but
at once proceeded to lay his plans before the President and Secretary of
War. The plans were the same as suggested by him to Gen. Anderson. After
careful consideration they were approved.

“The President told Gen. Silent he now should have the full support of
the Government, with supreme command, and that the President would hold
him responsible for the suppression of the rebellion, and expect that
the enemy would be dispersed at an early day.

“Gen. Silent replied that the rebellion would end within fourteen
months.

“'Why fourteen months? Could you not say twelve?'

“'No, sir,' replied Silent; 'I put it fourteen. I hope to see it
accomplished at an earlier date, but within this time it will be done.'

“'Gen. Silent, I have a strange reason for saying twelve months,' and
the President laughed at the idea of having a superstition about dreams,
'but, General last night I had such a curious dream that I must tell it
to you. I thought a strange man appeared in the presence of the Armies
of the West, riding upon a large brown horse, and that where-ever and
whenever he appeared the armies were successful; that this strange
man would disappear without uttering a word. This same strange man had
appeared at the East, and at his appearance the rebel armies laid down
their arms and sued for peace. In my dream peace was restored, but it
lasted for only a short time; the citizens of Maryland and Virginia
conspired together and swept down upon Washington, captured the city,
burned the Government records, and murdered many of our leading men,
amongst whom was yourself. What do you say to this, General? Can you
interpret it?'

“'No, Mr. President, I cannot. I do not allow myself to think but
very little about dreams. They certainly can be nothing more than the
wanderings of the mind during sleep. But, Mr. President, since you
have taken me into your confidence I must confess that I am sometimes
startled by what seems to be an unfolding of events in the future.'

“Saying this much he relapsed into his wonted silence. After some
further conversation they separated. The next morning Gen. Silent left
for the Army of the East. He was received on his arrival in a manner
that showed their confidence in him as a great commander. He established
his headquarters in the field near Meador, and at once commenced giving
directions in his quiet way for reorganizing the troops and preparing in
every way for an early advance. His army was soon organized into
three corps,--Second, Fifth and Sixth,--commanded respectively by Gen.
Hanscom, Gen. Sedgewear and Gen. Warner; the Ninth (Independent) Corps,
under Broomneld, with the cavalry under Sher-lin, who had been ordered
to the East from the Army of the Center.

“My son Jackson, having been spoken of very highly to Gen. Silent by
Gen. Anderson, had also been ordered to the East and placed in command
of a brigade under Gen. Hanscom.

[Illustration: Gens. Silent and Meador in conversation. 347]

“The armies both in the East and the West being reorganized and in good
condition, Gen. Silent began his arrangements for an immediate movement.
The Armies of the West and Center now being combined under the command
of Sherwood were to move from Chatteraugus directly down the railroad
against Biggs,--or rather Jones, the new commander of the rebel forces.
The movement of the combined armies, East and West, against the enemy,
was to take place on the same day. The rebel army East was admirably
posted for defensive operations, provided they were to be attacked in
their position. Laws had his army divided into three corps, commanded
respectively by Ewelling on the right, A. P. Hiller on the left, and
Longpath (who had come from Biggs) as reserve in the rear; his cavalry
by J. E. Seward. His army was on the south bank of the Rapidan, and in
rear of Mine Run, and extending east to the spurs of the Blue Ridge, on
the west and left flank, protected by heavy earthworks. His forces and
his movements were covered by streams, forests, hills, and by a very
heavy chaparral or copse for miles in extent.

“Silent would not attack in his front, as Laws expected, but concluded
to plunge immediately into the chaparral and threaten Laws's right. This
would compel the enemy to give battle at once or retreat. So orders were
issued for the Army of the East to move at midnight, cross the Rapidan,
and march into the dense woods by the roads nearest the rebel lines.
The troops moved, and by dawn the next morning had possession of the
crossings and were passing over the river. By night of that day the army
had crossed with most of their trains. The cavalry had pushed forward
and camped near Sedgewear, who had gone into bivouac on the hill after
crossing the Rapidan. During the day our signal corps had read the
signals of the enemy, which were that Laws had discovered Silent's
movements and was making preparations to meet them.

“Silent had ordered Broomfield to move at once and make night marches
so as to be up in time. Sherlin was to move forward and attack the rebel
cavalry at Chancellor's City. Three times this army had crossed the
Rapidan before and as many times had been driven back. The question
in the minds of all was, 'Will Silent go on, or will he be forced to
recross the stream?' Laws was very confident that he would force him
back.

“That night Silent received a telegram from Sherwood at Chatteraugus,
saying that his army had moved out that day and was near the enemy;
also, from Crooker and Boutler; all had moved. Thus Silent had all the
armies of the Republic, wherever they might be, at the same hour moving
against the enemy aggressively. No such movements had a parallel in
history. The enemy were menaced in every front, so that no portion could
give aid or re-enforcements to the other.

“Laws, when he saw the situation, determined to attack, believing that
he could assault Warner and drive him back before Hanscom (who had
crossed some miles from Warner) could come up to join on Warner's right.
That night Warner and Ewelling lay facing each other, nearly together.
They might easily have divided rations, though hidden from each other by
the dense forest. Yet, like the knowledge we all have by instinct of our
near approach to danger, they were each aware of the other's presence.

“Gen. Silent ordered a change, so as to move his head of column direct
for the right flank of Laws's new position. Warner moved, with cavalry
in advance, to Craig's Meeting House, his left resting at Chaparral
Tavern. Sedge-wear was to join on his right, Hanscom to move from
Chancellor City to his support, and Sherlin on the left and in rear of
Hanscom.

“Early in the morning the enemy appeared in Warner's front. One regiment
of cavalry had already been hurled back. Meador had made his disposition
in accordance with Silent's instructions. Broomfleld was now crossing
the river, and Silent waiting at the ford to see him; but learning
of Laws's movement, he went forward at once to Chaparral Tavern. This
tavern was in a low place, densely surrounded with trees and underbrush.
Here Silent placed his headquarters in the rear of Warner's Corps. The
woods and chaparral were so dense in all directions that neither army
could distinguish the line of the other.

“By 9 o'clock an occasional shot could be heard, and then the rattle
of musketry, as though a company or so had discharged their pieces.
Presently a few skirmishers would come back to the main line, asserting
that the enemy were in force in our front. Then orders would be given to
advance the skirmish-line and feel for the enemy.

“About 10 o'clock a shot from the artillery of the enemy announced the
fact that he was posting for resistance. Our line at once advanced as
best it could in the direction of the enemy. The musketry opened and
continued to increase until one whole division of our troops were
engaged. The artillery opened on both sides and roared as the mighty
thunders. Musketry rattled like hail on the housetops. The enemy in
our front, Ewelling commanding, was driven in great disorder for some
distance by Griffith's division, but the underbrush was so dense that
no alignment could be made with the troops. Regiments and brigades could
not find each other. It became impossible to have any unity of action.
This same cause prevented Sedgewear from joining on Warner's right or
connecting with Griffith. This left Griffith's flank exposed, and the
rebels at once taking advantage of this, forced him back again with the
loss of some of his guns and quite a number of prisoners. The rebels
made no attempt to follow up their advantage, but began at once erecting
earthworks.

“Laws was attacked before he anticipated, although making a show of
readiness; but he was resting on ground familiar to him and wholly
unknown to our troops. Silent was notified of our repulse. It was
apparent that Laws's whole army was on the field, and meditated an
attack before our army could be brought into action. Sedgewear's troops
were not all up; Broomfield had not arrived, and Hanscom was not yet on
the ground. This was not quite what Gen. Silent had been accustomed to.
His commands heretofore were always at the spot on time when ordered,
and generally before the time appointed.

“He at once mounted his horse and rode in person to the front, in order
to get a view of the situation. He followed Warner on a narrow road,
which was thronged with troops in great disorder. Slight works thrown up
by both sides, in intervals of the fight, were very close together. He
at once saw from the nature of the surrounding country the importance
of maintaining Warner's position. On his return to his headquarters he
dispatched officers to hasten Sedgewear's and Broomfield's troops with
all possible speed. His wish now was to bring to bear as largo a force
as possible against Laws's left, in order to prevent the discovery of
the great space between Warner and Hanscom. Laws, however, had detected
this gap, and was forming Hiller's Corps to move through it.

“Geddis was now ordered to move at once and hold this part of the line
with his division of Warner's Corps against all force that might come
against him. This was the breathless time during the day. Geddis took
the position. Hiller moved against him, but Geddis held the point.
Hanscom came up, but his corps was far away to his rear. It was nearly
two o'clock before his troops came in sight, certainly none too soon. He
at once formed on Geddis's left. There was but one spot, on account of
the density of the forest, where artillery could be put in battery or
used to any advantage. Here Hanscom put all his artillery. At 2:30 he
received orders to attack Hiller at once in conjunction with Geddis,
which he did. This compelled Hanscom to move two of his divisions in
support of Geddis, Burns and Motley. The two lines had both approached
until they were exceedingly close together.

“The battle now commenced in great earnest on both sides, and was of
a most destructive and deadly character. The musketry firing was
continuous along the whole line. The remainder of Hanscom's Corps
was ordered up and went into action, having no time for protecting
themselves. Several desperate assaults were made by Hanscom and Geddis,
but the enemy, having the cover of the chaparral, were able to inflict
great damage on our forces.

“Silent, learning that our forces could not dislodge the enemy, sent
a force from Warner's left to relieve the troops who were so hotly
engaged. Accordingly one division under Gen. Walworth and one brigade
under Roberts were sent through the woods to the sound of battle. But
they could not see fifty yards before them on account of the underbrush.
The roar of the battle was like a continuous peal of thunder. Gen.
Walworth tried to penetrate the thick woods to relieve his comrades, but
did not arrive until nightfall.

“Sedgewear had now taken position on the right of Warner, and both of
their corps had been engaged during the afternoon. Sherlin had struck
the rebel cavalry near Ford's House and driven them back. He now held
the country to the left of Hanscom on the road to Spottsyl-vania. The
night had closed in and the two armies rested facing each other. The
killed, wounded and dying were strewn between the lines like leaves.

“Gen. Meador and others came to Silent's Headquarters that night. One
corps in each army had not been engaged during the day, and so the
battle had but fairly commenced. Silent gave orders to assault the enemy
the next morning at five o'clock. Longpath on the side of the enemy,
who had not been engaged during the day, was moving that night to the
support of Hiller, evidently intending to crush our left. Geddis was
ordered to remain with Hanscom; Walworth was to assault Hiller's left,
while Hanscom made a front attack. Broomfield was to move to the gap
between Walworth and Warner's left. But Laws was preparing also for an
attack, and made his assault on our right a little before Hanscom made
the attack contemplated by Silent.

“The battle commenced by Ewelling assailing Wight. The fighting became
furious along Sedgewear's entire front and over and along Warner's
line. Burns and Motley, of Hanscom's Corps, advanced upon the enemy and
assaulted him with very great energy. Walworth now assaulted where he
was directed. The contest was a desperate one. The smoke rose through
the woods like a dense cloud. The artillery was brought to where it
could be used, and from both sides it belched forth its iron hail and
sounded as if the earth was breaking into a thousand fragments. The
musketry rattled and showered the leaden missiles of death in every
direction. The yells and shrieks of the wounded were enough to strike
terror to the souls of the strongest, during the whole time of this
great battle of blood and death.

“The enemy were driven at every point, and retreated in great confusion.
Our troops undertook to pursue them through the thick woods and became
broken up and confused. Sherlin was now engaged with Seward's cavalry,
near the Todd House, in a terrible contest, The firing and shouting
could be heard by Hanscom's troops. Sherlin was victorious and Seward
retreated.

“Up to this time Longpath had not taken the position assigned him,
but now moved rapidly against Hanscom's left. The contest was renewed.
Silent and Meador rode out to the front and looked over the ground.
Silent never lost confidence in the result for a moment.

“Longpath now assaulted with great vehemence; our advance brigade was
swept like chaff before the wind. The density of the brush was such that
H an scorn could not make his proper formation, and therefore had to
fall back to his position held early in the day. Walworth was driven
back, and in trying to rally his men was shot through the head and
instantly killed. Sedgewear's right was assailed and turned, losing many
prisoners. He rallied, however, and drove the enemy back again. Longpath
being now severely wounded, Laws led his corps in person.

“A simultaneous attack was now made by our forces. Broomfield assaulted
for the first time during the day, and the enemy were forced back. In
this assault my son Jackson, leading his brigade, was wounded and taken
to the rear. This was late in the afternoon. The woods had been on fire
several times during the day, but at this time the breastworks of some
of our men having been constructed of wood were fired by the musketry
and blazed up, catching the timber and leaves with which the ground was
covered. The fire became general and drove men in every direction, both
Union and rebel. The shrieks and screams of the poor wounded men who
could not escape the flames were heartrending.

“Darkness came on and the contest ceased. During the night Laws withdrew
the rebel army to his old line of works and gave up the idea of
driving Silent back across the Rapidan. Gen. Silent repaired to his
headquarters, where he received the reports of the commanding officers.
Some were sure that Laws would attack again the next morning. Some
thought that we had better retire across the Rapidan. At this Silent
said not a word, but smiled. He finally gave orders to be ready to meet
the enemy the next morning, and to attack him if he had not withdrawn.
When he spoke of the enemy withdrawing a look of surprise was on the
faces of many.

“After they had all repaired to their respective quarters he went out
to look around, and while listening under a tree in order to hear
any movements that might be making in the enemy's lines, he was again
startled by the same spectral form that had appeared to him twice
before. It pointed in the direction of Richmond and spoke these words,
'Move on to-morrow,' and disappeared. He was strangely affected by this,
and became quite nervous for a man of his stoicism.

[Illustration: A scene in the trenches 354]

“He returned to his tent and inquired for his Adjutant-General. When he
reported, he asked if any further reports had come in, and was told that
a messenger had just arrived with dispatches announcing that Boutler
had moved on City Point, capturing it; that Sherwood expected to attack
Jones at Rocky Head on that day. Silent then went to bed and slept
soundly.

“The next morning there was no enemy in sight. Gen. Silent advanced his
troops well to the front until satisfied that Laws had withdrawn. He
gave orders for taking care of the wounded and burying the dead. The
wounded of both armies were thickly strewn all over the battlefield.
Many had perished from the smoke and fire in the woods. It was a sight I
do not wish to describe if I could.

“That day Silent issued his orders for the army to make a night march
by the left flank in the direction of Spottsyl-vania. He and Meador
started, with the cavalry in advance, late in the afternoon, and as they
passed along the line going in that direction the boys understood it
and cried out, 'Good! good! No going back this time; we are going to
Richmond,' and they made the woods resound with shouts of joy.

“The next day about noon Sherlin was directed to move with his cavalry
to the rear of the enemy, cut the railroads, and destroy all the enemy's
supplies he could find. He moved at once. Silent notified Broomfield
of the resistance being made to our further advance, and ordered him to
move up as rapidly as possible. Skirmishing and sharp fighting between
isolated divisions and brigades occurred. Many officers and men were
killed. Gen. Sedgewear was among the killed on this morning, and Gen. H.
G. Wight was assigned to the command of his corps. This was the 9th day
of the month, and the armies had been marching and fighting five days.

“Silent's lines were now formed and ready to attack or resist. Thus they
lay during the fifth night. On the next morning orders were issued to
assault the enemy's center at 10 o'clock. Some movement of the enemy
delayed the assault, and about 1 o'clock the enemy pressed forward to
attack, which they did with great vigor. They were repulsed with great
loss and fell back in confusion. They reformed and came forward again.
The contest now became fierce and even terrific. They made their way
close up to Hanscom's front and delivered their fire in the very faces
of our men. Our line did not waver, but now opened such a terrible fire
of musketry on them that they broke in great disorder.

“In the very heat of the contest the woods had taken fire again, and
the flames were leaping along with frightful rapidity, destroying nearly
everything in their pathway. Our troops on this part of the line were
compelled to fall' back, leaving many poor fellows of both sides to
perish. Soon, however, the skirmishers were re-enforced and drove the
enemy for a mile into their entrenchments.

“It was now determined to make the assault contemplated in the morning.
So about 4 p.m. Silent ordered the assault. Warner and Wight were to
move simultaneously with Warner's and Gibbs's divisions, Motley to
advance on the left of Wight's Corps. Our troops had to advance up a
densely-wooded hill. Silent and Meador took position on an elevated
point, but could see little of the field, it was so overgrown with
bushes.

“The battle had again commenced, our troops assaulting. A cloud of smoke
hung heavily over the field, lighted up occasionally by flashes from
artillery. The shouts of the commanders giving their orders, the yells
of the soldiers on both sides, as well as the groans of the wounded
and dying, could be distinctly heard in every direction. Across an open
field, then through heavy woods, across a soft morass in front of
one division of the enemy near the stream, went our lines, struggling
forward under a most galling fire until lost to view in a copse of
wood and the smoke of battle. Only our wounded now came staggering
and crawling out from under the cloud of smoke to the rear. These few
moments of suspense were terrible. Looking, listening and waiting, our
troops at this moment ascended the hill and stormed the enemy's works,
but could not hold them against the destructive fire. They fell back to
their original line.

“On our left, at that moment, a great victory was being accomplished.
Col. Upson and Gen. Motley formed a storming party of some twelve
regiments, and drove right against the flank of the enemy. They rushed
with such impetuosity against the rebels that they could not withstand
the assault. Our forces captured an entire brigade and one battery of
the enemy. Hanscom now assaulted and broke the enemy's line, capturing
many prisoners. At six p.m. Broomfield attacked. Night closed with our
columns within one mile of Spottsylvania Court-house. The fighting
of this day was desperate, and the loss on both sides terrible. The
suffering was great; many were burned who had fallen wounded on the
field.

“This was the sixth day of blood and death. Our forces held some 4,000
prisoners, while the enemy had taken none from us save a few stragglers.
That night Boutler reported great success. Sherlin had got in the rear
of the enemy, destroyed ten miles of his railroad and nearly all of
his supplies of food and medical stores. Silent now ordered rest and
reconnoitering for the next day.

“So, on the following day, our lines were adjusted and reconnoissances
made, with full preparations for the ending of the great contest.
Hanscom was to move in the night so as to join Broomfield, and they were
to attack at 4 A. M. of the 12th. They moved into line not more than
two-thirds of a mile from the enemy. The ground was heavily wooded and
ascended sharply towards the enemy. In the morning a heavy fog lay close
to the ground, but at 4:35 the order to move forward was given. Burns
and Barrow moved in advance. The soldiers seemed to be urged forward
by some kind of inspiration, and finally broke into a double-quick, and
with irresistible force over the earthworks of the enemy they went. Both
divisions entered about the same time, and a most desperate battle here
ensued. Muskets were clubbed and bayonets and swords pierced many bodies
on both sides. The struggle was short, however, and resulted in our
forces capturing some 5,000 prisoners, twenty pieces of artillery, and
thirty colors, with two General officers. The rebels broke to the rear
in great disorder, our men pursuing them through the woods. Shouts of
victory rent the air.

“Silent was now by a small fire, which was sputtering and spitting, the
rain coming down in uncomfortable quantities. Hanscom had taken and was
now holding the center of their line. He reported: 'Have just finished
up Jones and am going into Ewelling; many prisoners and guns.'

“The enemy made six assaults on Hanscom, which were repulsed. Broomfield
now reported that he had lost connection with Hanscom. Silent wrote him:
'Push the enemy; that is the best way to make connection.'

“Desultory fighting continued until midnight, when the enemy gave up the
task of re-taking their lost line and retreated. Thus ended the eighth
day of marching and most desperate fighting ever known.

“The next morning an assault was made in order to take possession of
high ground near the court-house, which was a success, without any
considerable resistance. The rain was now falling in torrents. The roads
became so muddy that they were impassable, which prevented any further
movement for the present. The collecting of the wounded and burying the
dead was a sight to behold. The whole country back for miles was one
continuous hospital. Our losses were over 20,000, and no one could ever
ascertain the loss of the enemy; but it could not have been less than
30,000--including prisoners.

“The howl that was set up by the Sons of Liberty and Copperheads
excelled anything that had ever been heard. Silent was a 'murderer,' a
'butcher,' a 'brute,' an 'inhuman monster.' The enemy, however, were all
right. They were 'humane friends,' 'good Christians,' etc. The hypocrisy
of this world is perfectly amazing.

“At this time take a glance at the rebel capital. Boutler was within ten
miles; Sherlin's troopers were, many of them, inside the works on the
north side of Richmond. Sherwood was forcing the rebel Army of the
Center. Gen. Crookerhad cut all railroads between Tennessee and
Richmond. All lines of communication with Richmond were severed,
and confusion and terror reigned in the rebel capital. Jeff Davis
contemplated flight, but was prevented by those surrounding him. With
all these evidences of our final success and failure on their part, the
anti-war party in the North could find no words of contumely too severe
for our successful commanders.

“Henry and I left for Washington, and in the confusion of everything I
finally found a surgeon by the name of Bliss, who informed me where I
could find my son Jackson. He had been brought to Washington and placed
in the Stone Mansion Hospital, on Meridian Hill. We lost no time in
visiting that place, and by permission of the surgeon in charge visited
Jackson. We found him with a high fever and some evidence of erysipelas.
His wound was in the right groin--a very dangerous wound. He talked
quite freely, and gave all kinds of messages for his mother, the family,
and Gen. Anderson, but said to us that he could live but a few days.

“'The fates are against our family,' said he. 'We will all go down
sooner or later. Mother is right.'

“We remained in Washington and gave Jackson all the attention we could.
We merely paid our respects to the President. He was so busy we could
not interrupt him. Joy was in the hearts of all loyal people, while
curses were upon the lips of every disloyal and anti-war Democrat in the
whole country.

“Jackson died from erysipelas on the sixth day after our arrival. This
shock almost broke me down. Henry was nearly frantic. Jackson was his
favorite brother. They had both been wanderers alike from home. We took
his remains to our home, had his funeral services in the church to which
his mother and I belonged, and buried him by the side of my son David,
in the Allentown Cemetery.

“You must imagine this blow to our family; I will not undertake to
describe our distress. His mother almost lost her mind, and for several
days she talked incessantly about Peter. She seemed to lose sight of all
else. Seraine was deeply affected. She thought very much of Jackson, he
being the one who brought about her union with Henry much sooner than,
perhaps, it would have occurred.”

Just then Mrs. Wilson came in. We could see that she kept a close watch
over Uncle Daniel. He took her in his arms and said:

“My darling, I was just speaking of the death of your Uncle Jackson.”

“Yes, Grandpa; I well remember when you and Uncle Henry came home from
Washington with his remains; how we were all distressed; how Grandma's
mind was affected; and how poor old Aunt Martha cried and spoke of him.
I remember also that he was buried by the side of my poor father.”

She ceased speaking and wept and sobbed, and finally she took her
grandpa by the hand and led him to his room.




CHAPTER XVIII.

     OPERATIONS OF THE ARMY OF THE CENTER.--GEN. SHERWOOD'S
     CAMPAIGN AGAINST GATE CITY.--HEAD'S ARMY DESTROYED.--GEN.
     PAPSON'S GREAT VICTORIES AT FRANKTOWN AND NASHUA.

     “We die that our country may survive.”--Lyon.

“General Silent was now in command of all the armies of the United
States, having his Headquarters with the Army of the East, so that he
might have the immediate supervision of it. Sherwood, having been
placed in command of the Armies of the West, commenced organizing and
concentrating his forces for the Spring campaign, under the general plan
suggested by Silent and approved by the President and Secretary of
War. The condition of things in the North was as heretofore described.
Sherwood was kept continually on the alert, in order to meet the many
raids that were being made in his Department.

“About the 1st of April, Gen. Forrester, with a large cavalry force,
again moved north, marched between Big and Little Combination Rivers,
and made his way unmolested to Paduah, and there assaulted the Union
garrison held by Col. Heck, by whom he was badly beaten. He made his
retreat, swinging around to Conception River, and following that down
to Fort Pillston, which was held by a very small garrison of colored
troops. After capturing the post the unfortunate troops were most
barbarously and inhumanly butchered, no quarter being given. The poor
colored soldiers and citizens were shot down like so many wild beasts.
Some were killed while imploring their captors for mercy; others were
tied to trees, fires built around them made of fagots, and in that way
burned to death.

“The sick and wounded fared no better. Such brutality is seldom resorted
to by the most barbarous of the savage Indian tribes. What do you
suppose would have been the fate of any Union officer who would have
permitted such conduct on the part of his command?”

“Why,” said Col. Bush, “the officer would have been dismissed the
service in utter disgrace, and would not afterwards have been recognized
as a gentleman anywhere in the Northern States.”

“No, sir,” said Dr. Adams; “such officers would have been compelled to
change their names and to find homes in the mountains, where they would
have been unobserved.”

“Yes,” said Uncle Daniel, “that would have been so with any of our
troops; yet you never hear this fact alluded to. It is lost sight of,
and if you should mention it publicly, you would only be criticised for
so doing. Our tradesmen and merchants want their Southern customers, and
therefore, no matter what their crimes may have been, they are hushed up
and condoned. But to return to my story.

“Sherwood had made his disposition for an advance, and on the same day
that the Army of the East commenced its movement to cross the Rapidan,
his army moved out against Gen. Jones, who had displaced Biggs and was
in command of the rebel Army of the Center. Sherwood's army moved in
three columns from and about Chatteraugus--Scovens on the left, Papson
in the center, and McFadden on the right. Papson moved directly against
Turner's Hill, and McFadden, by way of Gadden's Mill, to and through
Snake Gap, against Sarco. Papson had encountered the enemy at Rocky
Head, and failing to dislodge him, was ordered to the right in support
of McFadden. Jones fell back to Sarco and made a stand. Hord's Corps
assaulted him in front, Scovens on his right, Papson and McFadden on his
left, McFadden gaining the high ridges overlooking the fort and opened a
destructive artillery fire against it.

“Late in the evening, as night was closing in, Gen. Anderson ordered a
part of his command to assault and charge their works near the river,
south of the town. This was executed in gallant style, Gen. Ward leading
the charge. The firing all along both lines was picturesque. As volley
after volley was discharged, it reminded one of a line of Roman candles
shooting forth. Soon our troops succeeded in dislodging the enemy and
capturing his works, with many prisoners. This closed the contest; and
that night Jones, with his army, retreated, destroying bridges and all
else behind him.

“He was vigorously pushed by our army. Two days later Papson's head of
column struck the rear of the enemy between Caseyville and King's City.
Skirmishing commenced, and was kept up during the night. At this point
Jones had collected his whole army--three large corps, commanded by
Harding, Polkhorn and Head, numbering nearly as many men as Sherwood's
forces. During the night, however, the enemy retreated, and did it
so handsomely that the next morning there was nothing to be seen as
evidence of an enemy, save fresh earthworks.

“After remaining there several days waiting for supplies, etc., our
forces resumed their advance and moved rapidly in the direction of a
town on the Powder Springs road called Dalls; McFadden on the extreme
right, Papson in the center, and Scovens on the left. Hord, of Papson's
army, in moving to the crossing of Pumpkin Run, met the enemy, and was
soon engaged in what turned out to be a severe battle, lasting until
quite in the night. This checked the movement of the army under
Papson, and changed the point to be gained to Hopeful Church. There was
continuous skirmishing and fighting at this point at close range
behind works for about five days. The losses, however, were not very
considerable on either side, both being under cover of earthworks. The
troops here were so situated in their lines and works that both sides
kept well down behind their cover. Finally our boys gave it the name of
'Hell Hole.'

“McFadden having moved to Dalls, as ordered, was some miles away to
the right of the remainder of the forces. The enemy seeing this,
concentrated two whole corps and hurled them against the Fifteenth
Corps, and one small division on its left. The assault was made by
Harding and Polkhorn on the morning of the 28th of May, and lasted until
late in the afternoon. This was a fierce and very bloody battle, with
quite a loss on both sides. The enemy broke the line of our forces
on the right and poured through the gap like bees swarming, but the
commander of the corps of 'Forty Bounds' was equal to the occasion,
charging them with reserve troops and driving them back with great
slaughter. From that time on, the day was in our favor. The General who
commanded the corps came down the line where bullets were thickest, with
hat in hand, cheering his men on to action and to victory; with a shout
that could only be given by that old, well-drilled corps, which had
never known defeat, they rushed forward against the enemy and routed
twice their number. Men who were in this battle say that the soldiers
and officers were more like enraged tigers than men. No power could stay
them when it came to their turn during the day to make an assault, the
enemy having made the first one.

“Two days after this brilliant victory they were ordered by Sherwood to
their left to join the right of Hord's command. The army now being in
compact form confronting the enemy, he withdrew to Bush and Kensington
Mountains, in front of Henrietta, covering the railroad to Gate City.
Gen. Sherwood moved his army on a parallel line to Shan tee, covering
the railroad to the rear, being our line of communication, directly
confronting the enemy on the Mountain ridge. The position of the enemy
was a good one; much better than our troops occupied. Thus, our forces
were 100 miles south of Chatteraugus. During the whole march it had been
one succession of skirmishes and battles, from Rocky Head to Kensington
Mountain. The skirmishes and battles were generally fought in dense
woods, and doubtless, in the rapid movements, many of our poor men,
and also of the enemy, were wounded and left to die in the forest.
The enemy's lines were several miles in length, covering those
spurs--Kensington, Bush and Pine Mountains. Our troops were pushing up
as close as possible under a continuous and heavy fire. While advancing
our lines our forces could see the signals of the enemy on the
mountains, and very soon learned to read them.

“In one of the forward movements on our extreme right a very sharp
artillery duel took place between Davies' artillery and Polkhorn's, who
formed the enemy's left. During this engagement Polkhorn was killed
by one of our round shots. Our signal officers interpreted the enemy's
signals stating his death. Our boys sent up a great shout.

“The enemy thereby discovered that our men could read their signals and
at once changed them, much to the chagrin of our Signal Corps.

“The railroad bridges that had been destroyed in our rear by the enemy
on their retreat having been repaired, the trains began running and
bringing up supplies. One day a train came in drawn by a very powerful
engine. The engineer concluded that he would tempt or alarm the enemy,
so he put on a full head of steam and started down the track as
though he was going directly into their lines. As soon as he came in
sight--which was unavoidable, as the road ran through an open field
directly in front of Kensington Mountain, and then curved to the left
through a gap--they opened a battery directed at the engine. Peal after
peal was heard from their guns, but the engineer ran the engine down
to our skirmish line and there held it for some moments, keeping up
meanwhile the most hideous whistling and bell ringing. The number of
guns that opened fire and their rapidity in firing was such that
all along both lines they believed a battle was raging. The engineer
returned his engine to the train amid the shouts of thousands of our
troops.

“Our skirmishers were now close, approaching nearer and nearer every day
and night, the advance being made by regular stages. Several attempts
were made to double the skirmish-lines and move up the slope of the
ridge, but this could not be accomplished. Finally Gen. Anderson asked
permission to make a reconnaissance to our left and to the right and
rear of the enemy, or at least to find where his right rested. This was
permitted, and Gen. Anderson struck the enemy's cavalry some five miles
to our extreme left, driving them around the point of the mountain and
capturing very nearly two regiments. This at once disclosed the fact as
to the exposed flank of the enemy. He then moved back to his position in
line and waited further orders.

“Just about this date Gen. Sherwood received information that the
expedition up Blood River had failed, and that Forrester had defeated
Sturgeon and was now preparing to raid the railroads in our rear. This
was not very encouraging to our forces, but caused great joy in the
rebel camp in our front, as our forces learned. The next day the enemy
made a feeble attack on our right, but was handsomely repulsed by
Gen. Hord's Corps. Sherwood seemed determined to try to dislodge the
enemy,--a flank movement seemed to others to be the way to force the
enemy from his lines of works on the crest of the mountain.

“On the 27th of June, he ordered an assault on Little Kensington
Mountain. Our troops at the same time were to make demonstrations on all
parts of the line. McFadden assaulted, by order of the commander, the
face of the mountain, where there was no possibility of success. He
was hurled back, losing many officers and men. Papson assaulted on his
right, where the mountain sloped down to a low foothill with no
rugged heights. Here the enemy had strong earthworks, with an almost
impenetrable abatis. One division after another and one corps after
another were hurled against this breastwork, where fell many brave and
gallant men and officers on that fatal day. Papson did not believe our
troops could take those strong works, posted as the rebels were, but
obeyed orders from his superior officer.

“Towards noon our losses were heavy, and it seemed like leading men into
the very jaws of death to attempt another assault. Some of the officers,
as well as men, openly said it was most cruel and cold-blooded murder
to force men up against works where one man behind them would equal at
least four of the assaulting party. Yet another attack was ordered, and
about the middle of the afternoon all were ready. Sherwood was on a high
hill a good distance in the rear, where he could see all that was going
on.

“The order was given to move forward. Gen. Anderson was put to the
front, my son Peter in command of his advance brigade. On, on they went,
well knowing that many a brave boy would fall to rise no more. Not a
word was spoken save the one of command. The line moved right on, the
enemy pouring shot and shell into our ranks. Our brave boys fell like
grass before the scythe. As our ranks thinned and gaps were made by shot
and shell the solemn command could be heard, 'Close up, my brave boys!'

“Gen. Anderson rode in full dress, with a long black plume in his hat.
On and on, to the very jaws of hell they went. When close up to the
enemy General Anderson raised his sword, the gleam of which could be
seen afar in the sunlight. He ordered a charge, and well was it made.
Up, up, and into the jaws of death they moved. But to take the works
was impossible. The whole line was now engaged. Finally our forces fell
back. Gen. Anderson held his men in their line. They were not dismayed.
He was finally ordered to fall back, and did so. Peter, my son, was
shot through the lungs. Sullenly and coolly did our men fall back, with
curses many and loud against the blunder.

“This was the first repulse to our army, and forced the commander a few
days later to do what should have been done without the loss of so many
men. He moved around against Jones's flank, which caused him to abandon
his line and fall back to Chatham River, into his heavy intrenchments
prepared some time before.

“My son Peter, during the evening after the battle, had been conveyed to
the hospital. As soon as Gen. Anderson could do so, he started to find
him. He found young Whit-comb with my son, whom the General had sent
earlier to look after him; also, old Ham, who was in the rear during the
engagement, not far from the hospital. When the General entered, Peter
recognized and greeted him, but added:

“'General, my time has come. When I go, that will be the last finger but
one. My mother's dream; O! how true! how true! This is not unexpected to
me, my dear General.

“I have been waiting for it. This morning, when I found what our orders
were, I committed my soul to God, and felt this to be my time.'

“The General said to him that he thought there was a chance for him to
get well.

“'No, no,' replied Peter; 'I may linger some time. The doctor thinks
there is a chance for me; but, no; I am sure this is only the fulfilling
of my mother's dream.'”

At this recital the old man wept and walked out of the room. Very soon,
however, he returned, and continued:

“Why should I grieve? I will soon see them all. I am very sure that I
will meet my good and brave family again in a better world.”

“Amen!” said Dr. Adams.

Uncle Daniel said: “Peter always believed there was something in his
mother's dream; and while Gen. Anderson was trying to encourage him, old
Ham spoke up:

“'Marsa Gen'l, dey's no use. I tell you dat dream am a fac'. It is,
sho', an' Marsa Peter he know it. I 'terpret dat for him; 'deed I did. I
not fool on dat. But, den, we mus' take keer ob him. I 'spec' he go home
an' see he mudder and fader. I 'spec' me better go wid him and tend to
him. Don't you fought so too, Marsa Gen'l?'

“The General told Ham he would see about it. Peter began to improve, and
it really seemed as if he would recover. I was informed by Gen. Anderson
of Peter's misfortune, but kept it from my family, except Henry, who
was at home, as I before stated, in order to aid me in protecting the
family, the country being in such an alarming condition. The growing
belief in the final success of Silent against Laws was quieting the
people somewhat.

“I made an excuse to the family, so that Henry was sent South to see
Peter and bring him home if he should be able to stand the journey. I
obtained a pass for Henry from the President by letter, and he started
to find his brother. He told Seraine, however, before he started, what
his mission was. She was discreet, and did not speak of it to any one.

“During this time Sherwood moved out, McFadden on the extreme right,
Scovens in the center, and Papson on the left. About six miles on the
road leading to the crossing of the Chatham River Papson encountered the
enemy and passed the compliments of the Fourth of July with them, firing
his artillery loaded with shell into their lines. The celebration was
kept up in this way by both sides during the day, but the loss was not
great on either side.

“Just at this time Gen. Russell, under orders, left De Kalb, Ala.,
with 2,000 cavalry, passing through the country and meeting but little
obstruction on his way. He finally struck the railroad west of Opelima
and destroyed it for many miles, making a successful raid. He reported
to Sherwood at Henrietta, with hundreds of horses and mules, supposed to
have followed him, on his return.

“Stoner was also to the west of our forces hunting for railroads,
bridges, etc., which might be useful to the enemy. McCabe was with his
cavalry on Soap Run, and one other division under Garner at Ross Mills,
to the left of our main army.

“McFadden with his army now moved to the left, by Ross Mills, across
Chatham River and down to De Kalb by way of Stonington's Mountain.
Scovens crossed the Chatham River near the mouth of Soap Run, and
thereby occupied the center. Papson crossed at or above the railroad
bridge. The whole army was now safely across the river and moving in the
direction of Gate City. McFadden had reached De Kalb and there connected
with Scovens, who had extended near to the Howland House. Papson was not
so far advanced, leaving quite a distance between him and Scovens.

“As Papson lay at Crab Apple Run, the men carelessly taking their rest
in fancied security, they were furiously attacked by Head's Corps. At
first our men were scattered in confusion, but were soon in line
again, and the battle raged with great fury. After some two hours' hard
fighting the enemy fell back and again occupied their breast-works.
The losses on both sides were heavy for the length of time they were
engaged.

“On the same afternoon Gen. Legg's division had a very sharp contest for
a high hill in an open field to the left and south of the railroad from
the east to Gate City. Legg secured this hill, which overlooked the city
and was the key to the situation on the east side.

“On the 22d a great battle was fought over this ground by McFadden's
army, which was severe and bloody, lasting well into the night.
Thousands were slain on both sides. The field almost ran with blood.
Gen. McFadden fell early in the day, and the command then devolved upon
another. The battle was a success to the Union troops. It was a great
victory. Many prisoners and a great quantity of munitions of war fell
into the hands of our troops. Gen. Sherwood for some reason remained at
the Howland House during this battle, with Scovens, whose forces were
not engaged. This battle cannot be properly described in this narrative,
nor will I attempt it.

“On the 28th another great battle was fought by the same gallant army as
on the 22d, without assistance, at a place called Ezra's House, on the
extreme right of our lines. Having been ordered to move round to the
rear of Scovens and Papson, after the 22d, they struck the enemy. During
this engagement the enemy made as many as seven different assaults upon
our line, but were repulsed with great loss each time. Night closed in
and ended the contest. The next morning the dead of the enemy lay in
front of our lines in rows and in piles. The enemy having retreated
during the night, our troops buried their dead, which numbered hundreds.
One of their Color-Sergeants, of a Louisiana regiment, was killed, and
his flag taken by a boy of an Ohio regiment within twenty feet of our
lines.

“Skirmishing and fighting continued around and about Gate City for
nearly a month, during which time the losses on both sides were very
serious. The latter part of August a general movement to the flank and
rear of the enemy was made by the whole of the united forces. McFadden's
army, now commanded by Hord, moved on the right in the direction of
Jonesville, and a terrific battle ensued, lasting for some four hours.
They fought against two corps of rebels, which were driven back and
through Jonesville to the southward.

“Late in the night a great noise of bursting shell was heard to the
north and east of Jonesville. The heavens seemed to be in a blaze. The
red glare, as it reflected in beauty against the sky, was beyond brush
or word painting. The noise was so terrific that all the troops on the
right felt sure that a night attack had been made on Pap-son and that
a terrible battle was being fought. Couriers were sent hurriedly to the
left to ascertain the cause, and about daylight information was received
that Head--who was in command of the rebel forces, having succeeded
Jones--had blown up all his magazines, burned his storehouses of
supplies, evacuated Gate City, and was marching with his army rapidly in
the direction of Loveland Station.

“Thus the great rebel stronghold, Gate City, had fallen and was ours.
The joy in our army was indescribable. Sherwood moved on Loveland
Station and skirmished with the enemy during one afternoon, but no
battle ensued; why, has often been asked by our best-informed men. Our
troops moved back on the same road by which they had advanced to and
around Gate City, and then went into camp, remaining during the month of
September with but little activity.

“One day, at Gen. Sherwood's headquarters, Gen. Anderson was asked by
Sherwood if he was ever in the Regular Army. Gen. Anderson replied in
the negative.

“Sherwood said: 'I am sorry for that, as I would like to give you a
larger command. You are certainly a good soldier.'

“'Well,' said Gen. Anderson, 'is it not good soldiers that you want?'

“'That is true,' said Sherwood; 'but we are compelled to make this
distinction, where we have those who are or have been in the old army,
or have been educated at the Military Academy.'

“'But, General, suppose a man is or has been in the Regular Army or
educated at the Military Academy, and is not a successful General, how
will you then decide?'

“'Well, Gen. Anderson, we have studied war and know all about it; you
have not. We must rely upon those who make it a profession. Papson,
Scovens and myself have considered the matter, and we cannot trust
volunteers to command large forces. We are responsible, you know.'

“'But, General, you seem to trust volunteers where there is hard
fighting to do, or where there is any desperate assault to be made.'

“'Yes, that is true; but we cannot afford to allow volunteers to be put
over Regular officers; Regulars do not like it, and we cannot do it.'

“'I have seen some of your volunteer officers and soldiers succeed where
your Regulars have failed. Should not such men be as much entitled to
the credit as if they were professional or Regular Army soldiers?'

“'There may be cases of that kind; but we will not discuss this further.
I can only say that while we have Regulars to command our armies, we
will see to it that they are given the places.'

“Gen. Anderson was very angry, but said no more except 'good-by.'

“By this time Peter had so far recovered that the Surgeon felt it to be
safe to remove him. Henry, who had remained with him all this time, now
brought him home, with old Ham's assistance. Henry had kept me posted by
letter, and it was very hard at times to explain his absence. But when
he reached home, and the truth was revealed to my good wife, she was
almost frantic, and was unable to sit up. She talked continually of
her dear son, and was haunted day and night by her dream. Peter gained
strength very rapidly. The members of the household were at his service
at all times. The children could not understand so many coming home shot
as they termed it, and little Mary Anderson was continually inquiring of
her mamma about her dear papa, and if he was shot again! Our family had
all become so nervous that I was continually on the alert for fear of
sickness being produced by the constant strain.

“Old Ham and Aunt Martha had many things to say to each other. Ham's
experiences in battle very greatly amused Aunt Martha. They were both
very kind to Peter, but wore very serious countenances in our presence.
Ham would only talk to me about Peter, and would always say: 'I hopes
dat Marsa Peter git well, but I fears. Marsa Lyon, I tell's you dat
dream of de Madam, dat am bery bad. I fears de time am mighty nigh
come.'

“Aunt Martha did not express any opinion, but would shake her head.
Peter kept the two little girls by him nearly all the time, petting
them, but conversed very seldom. He would talk to his mother
occasionally, to keep her mind away from her horrible dream.

“About the 1st of October we learned of the movements of large bodies of
the enemy's cavalry in Tennessee, raiding the railroads to the rear of
Sherwood's army. Head had thrown his army across Chatham River, below
Gate City, to the north, and moved parallel to the railroad, so that he
could strike and destroy our lines of communication at various points.
Sherwood was compelled to follow him. Our forces were stationed on the
railroad at many places. Gen. G. B. Ream, with one division, held Carter
Station, Etwau Bridge, Alletooning, Ainsworth, King's City, Adamsville,
Sarco, and north to Dallytown. Chatteraugus was held by Gen. Sleman with
his division, and Romulus by Cortez. All had orders to support any point
that should be attacked. Gen. Ream was of the opinion that Head would
strike the railroad at Alletooning, where a great quantity of supplies
were stored.

“Sherwood left Somers with his corps at Gate City and started north. He
arrived at Henrietta Just as Gen. Ream had got Cortez with his command
at Alletooning. Head was advancing on Alletooning by rapid marches. He
assaulted the garrison at once on his command's arrival The assault was
made with great determination, but it was not successful. His loss was
very great. He drew off and at once moved in the direction of Romulus.

“Gen. Sherwood reached Carter Station, and was directing his movement
in order to protect the railroad and no more. Gen. Ream insisted to Gen.
Sherwood that Head's next move would be against Sarco. Sherwood did not
think Head would cross the Cussac River, and so commenced his march on
Romulus by way of King's City, and left the matter of protecting Sarco
to Gen. Ream, who procured trains and started all the troops he could
get together for that place. That night on the way they found the track
torn up. This was soon repaired, and the troops proceeded. At five
o'clock Gen. Head arrived in front of Sarco and demanded its surrender.
Gen. Ream, learning this, took the troops from the cars and marched from
Cahoon, sending the trains back for more re-enforcements. By daylight
our troops were in the fort and on the skirmish-line at Sarco.

“Ream at once sent word to Gen. Sherwood that Head was present with
his army in front of Sarco, and would like to pay his respects. About
daylight Head opened his artillery upon the forts, and sent forward his
skirmish-line. In the garrison every effort was made to impress Head
with the idea that Sherwood's main force was present. Every flag was
displayed on the forts and along the skirmish-line. Head kept up a
continuous fire on the forts during the day. Late in the afternoon
re-enforcements arrived. There were but 500; this was enough, however,
to show that re-enforcements were coming. The firing was kept up the
most of the night; the next morning the enemy was gone.

“He passed around Sarco and struck the railroad north of this place and
dismantled it for many miles, capturing every garrison north from Sarco
to Turner's Hill. Turning west from there he passed through Snake Gap,
moving in the direction of Alabama. Gen. Sherwood arrived at Sarco
very soon and was gratified that the place, with its great quantity of
supplies, was safe. He at once pushed out through Snake Gap in pursuit
of Head.

“The next place that Head presented himself with his army was in front
of our garrison at De Kalb, Ala. He withdrew, however, and crossed into
Tennessee, where he rested for near a month, collecting supplies and
recruiting his army.

“Sherwood halted his army, and while resting made such dispositions as
were in accordance with the plan to be followed out in the near future.

“In the meantime the excitement in the North was very great. Jacob
Thomlinson had returned from Europe and was again in Canada with a
large sum of money, which was freely used in all the States North
in attempting to elect the Democratic candidate, 'Little Mack,' for
President--the man that Thomlinson had suggested in the meeting of the
leaders of the 'Sons of Liberty' at St. Catharines, Canada, of which
I have heretofore spoken. Mobs were now frequent, and bad blood was
stirred up all over the country.

“Finding the condition of things very unsatisfactory, I suggested to
Henry that he make a short visit to Canada. He did so, and returned
to Allentown four days before the Presidential election. He had met
Wintergreen, who had returned from England with Thomlinson. He disclosed
to Henry the fact that the rebels were greatly depressed, and were using
all the money they could to defeat the war candidate, Mr. Lincoln;
and that the night before the election a raid would be made on all the
Northern prisons, so that released prisoners might burn and destroy,
and thereby cause such alarm on the day of the election as to prevent as
many as possible from going to the polls. At the same time their friends
were to be in possession of the polls wherever they could. In this way
they had hopes of carrying the election.

“I sent this report to the President by letter, which he received in
time to have all the prison guards re-enforced. The attempt was made,
however, but defeated in every instance. In Chicago they were very
near accomplishing their designs. They had cut the water pipes and were
making preparations for the burning of the city. But the attack on the
camp was thwarted, and the leaders arrested and put in prison. John
Wall, of whom I have heretofore spoken, was one of the leaders, and was
captured and imprisoned.

“Mr. Lincoln was triumphantly elected. Mr. Jacob Thomlinson's friend,
'Little Mack,' as he called him, was ingloriously defeated. This
indorsement by the people of the war measures and the manner of their
execution was cheering to our loyal people, as well as to the armies and
their commanders.

“Soon after the election Sherwood abandoned pursuing Head, leaving the
States of Tennessee and Kentucky, with Head's army scattered along
the main thoroughfares, to be looked after by Papson, with his forces,
preferring himself to take the Armies of the Tennessee and Georgia and
cut loose and march unobstructed to the Sea. On the march, food for the
troops and animals was found in abundance, making this march really a
picnic the most of the way.

“While Sherwood was making this march, matters of great interest were
going on in Tennessee. On the last day of November the enemy, maddened
by disappointment in their failure in the North to carry the election
and have their Confederacy recognized, concluded to risk their all in
a great battle for the recapture of the State of Tennessee. Head, then
in command of an army increased to nearly 50,-000, moved across Goose
Run and against our forces at Franktown, where he at once assaulted
Scovens, who had been sent to oppose his advance. Our troops were behind
intrenchments. He attacked with fearful desperation. At no time during
the war did any commander on either side make a more furious and
desperate assault than was made by Head. After forming his lines in
double column, he moved right up to our works, where his men were mowed
down by the hundreds. Gen. Pat Cleber charged time and again with his
division, and hurled them against our works only to be as often driven
back with great slaughter. At last, in a fit of desperation, he led his
men up to the very mouths of our cannon and the muzzles of our muskets.
He drove his spurs into his horse until his forefeet rested on our
parapet. In this position he and his horse were riddled with bullets
and fell into the trench, which was literally running with blood. The
desperation of the enemy was such that they continued their murderous
but ineffectual assaults until their men were exhausted as well as
dismayed at their great loss. Thirteen of his commanding officers fell
killed and wounded. Night forced him to desist.

“The next morning his men could not be brought to the slaughter again.
The bloody battle ended and Scoven's men withdrew to Nashua, three miles
to the South of which place Papson's army was intrenched. Wellston, in
command of about 8,000 cavalry, covered both flanks of our forces.
It was now getting along in December. The enemy moved forward and
intrenched in the front and within two miles of Papson. The weather
became very bad for any kind of movement. It rained, hailed, and sleeted
until the country around and about them became very muddy and swampy,
and at times covered with a sheet of sleet and ice. Papson hesitated to
attack and Head could not retreat; so there the two armies lay shivering
in the cold, suffering very greatly, both fearing to take any decisive
steps.

“Gen. Silent became quite impatient, believing it to be the time to
strike, as the enemy could not get away. Finally he concluded to relieve
Papson, but notified him of his order. Papson now made ready for an
assault. His command was posted as follows: Gen. A. J. Smithers on the
right, who was to assault the enemy's left, supported by Wellston's
cavalry; Ward was to support Smithers on his left, acting against
Monterey Hill, on the Hillston road; Scovens was to hold the interior
line, being the defense of Nashua. When the time arrived, all being in
readiness, the order was given. The enemy seemed to be totally unaware
of the movement. Smithers and Wellston moved out along the pike.
Wheeling to the left they at once advanced against the enemy. The
cavalry first struck the enemy at the Harden House, near Rich Earth
Creek, and drove him back, capturing many prisoners. One of Smithers's
divisions moving with the cavalry, captured two of the enemy's strong
advance positions, with about 400 prisoners.

“At this time Scovens's Corps was put in on Smithers's right, and the
advance was then made by the whole line. Ward's Corps now found the
enemy to Smithers's left, and Gen. Anderson led his command against
Monterey Hill and carried it, capturing a number of prisoners. Ward's
Corps at once advanced against the main line of the enemy, and after a
bloody contest carried it, capturing a great many prisoners, a number of
pieces of artillery, and many stands of colors. The enemy was now driven
out of his entire line of works and fell back to a second line at the
base of Harpan Hills, holding his line of retreat by way of Franktown.
Night closed in and stopped again the play of death. Our forces were
now in possession of sixteen pieces of artillery, with many officers and
1,200 prisoners, not including wounded. Our troops bivouacked on their
line of battle in order to be ready for any movement in the morning.

“Ward's Corps at six in the morning moved south from Nashua, striking
the enemy and driving him some five miles, to Overton's Hill, where
he had thrown up works and was making a stand. Gen. Sleman now moved
rapidly to Gen. Ward's left. Scovens remained in his position of the
last night. Wellston moved to the enemy's rear and drew up his line
across one of the Franktown roads.

“About two o'clock one brigade of Ward's Corps, supported by Sleman's
division, assaulted Overton's Hill, which was the enemy's center. One of
Sleman's brigades was composed of colored troops. The ground over which
they had to assault was open. The enemy re-enforced his center. The
assault was made, but received by the enemy with a terrible shower of
grape, canister and musketry. Our forces moved steadily on, not wavering
in the least, until they had nearly reached the crest of the hill, when
the reserves of the enemy arose from behind their works and opened one
of the most destructive fires ever witnessed, causing our troops to
first halt and then fall back, leaving many dead and wounded, both black
and white indiscriminately, in the abatis and on the field.

“Gen. Ward immediately re-formed his command, and all the forces of
the army moved simultaneously against the enemy's works, carrying every
position, breaking the lines in many places, and driving him in utter
rout from his position, capturing all his artillery and thousands of
prisoners, among whom were many officers, including four Generals. Ward
and Wellston pursued the fleeing enemy until by capture and other means
Head's army was entirely destroyed and wiped out of existence as an
organization. It appeared no more in the history of the great rebellion.
Thus were destroyed all the formidable forces of the enemy in the West.
The army of Papson now went into Winter quarters at different points
which were thought necessary to be garrisoned.

“Peter, by this time, was growing very weak, having had a relapse,
resulting in a very serious hemorrhage. At his request I had telegraphed
Gen. Papson, stating his great desire to see Gen. Anderson. Upon the
receipt of which, leave was immediately granted the General and he came
home, bringing Lieut. Whitcomb with him. On the way home people greeted
him everywhere with shouts of joy. They could now see that the end was
near, and they were overflowing with gratitude and good feeling.

“On their arrival you can imagine the joy of our household. The meeting
between him and Peter was most touching. Both wept like children. All
were much affected; even the two little children wept and sobbed aloud
at the bedside of their Uncle Peter. My wife was quite feeble. She
greeted the General as one of her own sons, and said:

“'Our dear Peter is not going to live. I see it all, and I pray God that
he may take me also.'

“The General encouraged Peter all he could. Ham and Aunt Martha were as
delighted to see the General as were any of his family. We all tried to
be cheerful and in good spirits, but it was very hard to do this under
the circumstances.

“The next day after the General reached home he inquired of Ham why he
did not return to the army. Ham said:

“'I fuss done thought I would, and den I knowed I be no use, kase you so
far off, and I feared I not jes' safe gwine trough dem Sesh lines down
dar; and den I knowed, too, dat you kin git as many niggers as you wants
dat am jes' as good as Ham is, 'ceptin when you done wants good tings
to eat, sech like as chickens. Ham can allers get dem when dey is 'round
and skeered of the Sesh. I all de time noticed dey is powerful feared ob
de Sesh', Marsa Lyon. De General know dat am so.'

“'Well, Ham, you must be ready to go back with me when I return.'

“'Oh, yes, Marsa; oh, yes! I go all right; I will, sho' as you is bawn.
But I tells you dat Marsa Peter am powerful bad, he am, sho'. I dream it
all out las' night. Missus, she be right in dat. He be agoin' dis time,
and no mistake. Dat dream ob de Missus be all come 'round.'

“'That will do, Ham; you go and talk to Aunt Martha about your dreams.'

“'All right, Marsa, all right, sah; but you mine what I tole you.'

“The next day Joseph Dent came in, and we had a long conversation on the
subject of the war, the Golden Circle and the Sons of Liberty. He said
that they were alarmed, and quite a number had refused to meet recently,
but that the Grand Commander had issued a call for a meeting to be held
in Canada some time soon, where many of the leading men were again
to assemble and take into consideration some new plan for aiding the
rebellion. After he left for home the General, Henry and I consulted
as to the best plan to get at what those men in Canada were working up.
They had tried mobs and riots in New York and other places, had tried
releasing prisoners, burning and destroying cities, scattering disease
in our hospitals, and army raids, guerrilla warfare, etc., and had
failed in all. Now what next? We thought that it would be best for Henry
and Seraine to return to Detroit; that Henry again should visit Canada,
and, by him the information could be communicated to me. This being
understood, they left the next day. James Whitcomb, having gone
immediately home on his arrival at Allentown, would be with his parents
and Seraine, while Henry should visit in Canada.

“Peter was now apparently improving and we felt he might possibly
recover. The news of Sherwood's safe arrival at the Sea having been
received, the people were greatly rejoiced. They felt that the Spring
campaign would probably end the rebellion. The country was full of hope
and the drooping spirits of anxious people were much revived. Things
went on in this way and our family enjoyed themselves as best they
could. Mary Anderson and Jennie Lyon, David's widow, and the two little
girls, made our home as pleasant as possible But my poor wife grew
weaker all the time, which gave us much concern.

“Henry had arrived in Canada, and again found his friend Wintergreen.
They were now visiting different places. Henry had written Seraine and
she came down to Allentown, spending two days with us, and at the
same time posting the General and myself as to the movements of the
conspirators. Thomlinson had called the leaders of the Northern Sons
of Liberty to again assemble at St. Catharines the last Thursday in
January. Henry had concluded to remain and learn fully their intentions
and schemes. I told Seraine to say to him that his proposition to
remain was approved. I sent to the President the information and Henry's
intention, in answer to which I received a very kind and touching letter
from one of his Secretaries, exhibiting great sympathy for my family and
deploring our misfortunes.

“Time moved on, and the General was preparing to leave for his command,
when Peter became very much worse; and, also, my wife was growing weaker
and losing her mind. Peter was coughing very often and having slight
hemorrhages. The physician pronounced him to be in a very critical
condition. One morning Aunt Martha came running into the parlor where
the family were sitting, and with much anxiety cried out:

“'Marsa Lyon and Marsa Gen'l, come to Marsa Peter, quick; 'cause he
bleed to deff if you not hurry.'

“We ran to him quickly. He was bleeding profusely, holding his head over
the edge of the bed. He could only speak in a gurgling whisper. He took
me by the hand and said:

“'Father, it is all over with me; soon there will be but one finger
left.'

“We laid him back on the pillow, and without another word or struggle he
passed away. Good bless my poor son!”

“Amen!” said Dr. Adams.

Uncle Daniel soon proceeded, saying: “But, my good friends, this was not
my only grief. We tried to keep his death from his mother. She, in her
delirium, was constantly speaking of her dear son Peter, and crying. She
seemed to have no thought except of Peter and the constant shadow of her
dream. The day of Peter's funeral her reason seemed to return and her
strength revived. She asked for all of us to come into her room, and
we did so. When she saw that Peter was not with us, she inquired why.
I answered that he could not come. I then broke down and left her room
weeping. She saw it, and, with strength that she had not shown for many
weeks, arose, and leaping to the floor rushed past all into the parlor,
and there saw Peter lying a corpse. She shrieked and fell on his
remains. We lifted her and carried her back to her bed. She was dead!”

[Illustration: Mrs. Lyon dies at Peter's Coffin 382]

Uncle Daniel sank back into his chair overcome with his sorrows. The
severe trials through which he had passed, re-called again, opened the
flood of sorrow, which well nigh swept him away. We withdrew for the
present, with intense sympathy for the old hero and a feeling that the
Government had sadly neglected him.




CHAPTER XIX.

     THE SCHEME TO CAPTURE OR KILL THE PRESIDENT AND GEN.
     SILENT.--A VILLANOUS PLOT.--THE RECKLESS AND DESPERATE
     SCHEMES OF THE CONSPIRATORS.--THE PLAN REVEALED.--THE
     PRESIDENT AND GEN. SILENT WARNED OF THEIR DANGER.

     “I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word
     Would harrow up thy soul, freeze up thy young body.”
      --Shakespeare.

“The death of my son Peter and my beloved wife cast such a deep gloom
over our household that it seemed we never could rally again to do
anything for ourselves or our country. Gen. Anderson returned to his
command a sad and despondent man. He had left Ham to look after things
for us at home, our family now being reduced to Jennie Lyon, Mary
Anderson, the two children, Ham, Martha and myself. We were lonely in
the extreme, and seemed, for some cause undis-coverable to us, to be
drinking the bitter dregs from the poisoned chalice. Ham and Aunt
Martha saw my distress and tried in their honest and simple way to
pour consolation into my soul. The little children, in their childish
simplicity, seemed to be the only fountain whence I could drink draughts
of comfort in my lonely hours of distress. Seraine came to our house to
attend the funeral, as Henry could not reach home in time to be with us
and see the last of his mother and brother. I wrote him by his wife and
directed him to remain. He came to Detroit terribly broken down with
grief, and returned, sad and dejected, to Canada. He was frequently
interrogated as to the cause of his melancholy, but parried it as best
he could.

“About the 12th of February he returned to Detroit, and, bringing
Seraine with him, came to my house. Our meeting was mixed with joy and
sadness. The ladies, as well as my myself, were very much gratified at
having dear Seraine (as we all called her) with us again. She conversed
so sensibly on the subject of our misfortunes that she made us almost
feel that they must be for our good.

“As soon as we could do so, Henry and I sat down to talk over the
situation in Canada and the schemes of the conspirators. He reported to
me all he had seen or heard on the question of the war, stating in the
beginning that there was no time to lose. When he found Wintergreen
they set out for a trip through Canada. After visiting many places and
meeting various persons from the South who had been in Canada for the
purpose of aiding in carrying the Presidential election in favor of the
anti-war or Democratic party, but who had not been able to return since
the election, and were waiting, Micawber-like, for something to turn
up, they had finally arrived at Montreal, where they again met Joseph
Thomlinson and quite a number of faces to them unfamiliar. These persons
were evidently there for some purpose looking to the success of the
rebellion. Thomlinson received them kindly, inquired of Winter-green
how he felt since his return from London, and asked many questions about
certain people at Windsor. Henry was also interrogated as to how matters
looked to him, to which he answered that the signs were not so favorable
as heretofore.

“Thomlinson went into a long disquisition on the recent campaigns. He
denounced Gen. Head, who had been so utterly destroyed by Papson, as a
'brainless ass,' and spoke of Gen. Laws as having lost much of his
vigor and daring. He said that if Gen. Wall, their greatest General, was
alive, he would drive Silent out of Virginia in one month. He said that
the re-election of Lincoln was a severe blow to them; that they had been
deceived by their Northern friends. They had been led to believe that
there was no doubt of Little Mac's election, with a liberal expenditure
of money; that he had drawn checks and paid out for that purpose on
behalf of the Confederacy $1,100,000, and seemed to think that unless
measures were taken at once to strike consternation into the hearts
of the Northern people all would be lost; that the President of the
Confederacy and his Cabinet had been all along expecting some great
result from the efforts of their Northern allies, and especially from
the efforts of Valamburg and Thomas A. Strider.

“'True,' he said, 'Valamburg had been very much hampered by the
suspicions resting upon him in the minds of the people, but it was not
so with Strider. He could have done a great deal more if he had not been
so timid. He (Strider) seemed to think that he could secure the success
of the Confederacy by crippling the U. S. Government in opposing
legislation and breeding strife and jealousies in the Union armies.
'But,' he continued, 'Lincoln is an old fox, and soon smelled out those
little devices of Strider. He has completely checkmated him and his
friends who were acting on his line, by relieving from command all those
who were playing into Stridor's hands, and has put in their places a set
of fanatics, who are fighting on moral grounds alone.'

“He spoke of Silent as a man who did not value life or anything else,
saying that he was a superstitious man, who believed that he was merely
an instrument in the hands of the Almighty to wipe out slavery. Not only
so, but believed that he was guided and directed in all his movements by
the mysterious hand of Providence. So he (Thomlinson) could not see the
use of relying longer on any satisfactory result to come from the course
being pursued by their Northern friends. He said they must act
more openly, energetically and promptly, if they were to help the
Confederacy.

“There were two men present that Henry thought he had seen somewhere
before, but could not place them. One was a medium-sized man, with
rather dark complexion, dark hair, eyes and mustache. He was introduced
as a Mr. Wilkes. The other was a young man, perhaps thirty years of age,
slight, with brown hair, blue eyes and no beard, named John Page. These
two men seemed nervous and uneasy; they conversed but little. The man
Wilkes remarked that there was but one way, which was a part of every
insurrection, and he was in favor of that way. Page agreed with him,
both seeming to understand the proposition; yet it was not stated in the
conversation at that time what Wilkes meant by 'but one way.'

“Thomlinson made no answer to Wilkes or Page, but continued by saying:

“'I have called the leading men of our organization to meet again at
St. Catharines, on the first Tuesday in February, and at that time there
must be some scheme devised and agreed upon that will turn the scale, or
all will be lost, and we will all be wandering vagabonds over the face
of the earth.'

“Henry inquired if Mr. Carey was in the city. Thomlin-son said no;
that he was in Richmond, but would be at their meeting if he could
get through the lines, in doing which they had met with no trouble
heretofore. Winter-green said that the people where he had been, who
were friendly, were now very despondent and greatly alarmed for the
safety of Richmond, as well as the Confederacy; that everything seemed
to be against them of late.

“'Yes,' replied Thomlinson, 'we have much to discourage us, and at the
same time all can be regained that we have lost if our friends will
settle upon some good plan and carry it out. But it does seem that all
our plans and schemes so far have been abortive. Our first great
scheme of burning the Northern cities failed by the burning of the
Will-o'-the-Wisp and the loss of Dr. Mears and Prof. McCul-lough; and
also of the material accumulated by Dr. Black-man. We stirred up riots
in New York city and elsewhere in opposition to the draft, with a
promise from Valamburg, Strider, McMasterson, and B. Wudd that our
friends would come to the rescue and make resistance everywhere.. But
these men failed to stand by their promises. The inaugurating of
riots and the employment of men to engage in them cost the Confederacy
$500,000. We undertook to release prisoners from all the Northern
prisons, We purchased arms and smuggled them to our friends sufficient
to have armed all the prisoners. This was all that was wanting, our
friends North stated to me; but when the time came, which was the last
night before the Presidential election, at Camp Chase the effort was too
feeble to be recognized, and at Chicago, where we were assured that the
prisoners would be released and the city burned and destroyed, what
was the result? They cut one or two water-pipes, and Wall, Greenfel and
Buckner were arrested. All our arms were found in Wall's cellar,
and taken possession of by our enemies. Mr. Eagle and Mr. N. Judy
Corn-ington were not on hand, neither as actors nor advisers; and so it
is. The arms, ammunition and hire for smuggling them through cost a
half million dollars. This kind of work will not do. It is not only
expensive, but fruitless.'

“He then stated to those present that he wished them all to attend
the next meeting, as mentioned, and to study up in the meantime, some
well-defined plan for successful operations. Henry and Wintergreen left
for other points, and returned to St. Catharines on the day appointed
for the meeting, where they met with many additional persons, strangers
to both of them. The delegates assembled in the same hall, in the rear
of the Victoria Hotel, as before. They were called to order by the Grand
Commander of the Sons of Liberty, Mr. Valamburg, of Dayburg, O. All
were seated and the roll was then called by Wintergreen, who was the
Secretary.

“Illinois was first called. Wm. Spangler and John Richardson answered;
from Indiana, Messrs. Dorsing and Bowlin; Ohio, Valamburg and Massey;
Pennsylvania, Wovelson and Moore; New York, McMasterson and B. Wudd;
Missouri, Col. Burnett and Marmalade; Kansas, Stringfelter; Iowa, Neal
Downing; Wisconsin, Domblazer; Nebraska, Martin; Arkansas, Walters;
Connecticut, Eastman; Vermont, Phillips; Massachusetts, Perry; Maine,
Pillbox; Rhode Island, no answer; New Jersey, Rogers. Prom Richmond, for
the South, there were Thomlinson and C. C. Carey, the latter having just
arrived. Other names, not remembered, save those of Messrs. Wilkes and
Page, who were admitted as representing the District of Columbia.

“After the necessary examinations were made by a committee, the persons
mentioned, with several others, were admitted to seats in the assembly.
Henry was selected by Wintergreen to assist him in his duties as
Secretary. The preliminaries being settled, the Chairman (Valamburg) was
quite severe in his strictures against Dan Bowen, Thos. A. Strider, C.
H. Eagle and N. Judy Cornington for not attending, saying he had letters
from each of those gentlemen promising to be present. He characterized
their conduct as cowardly and they as sunshine friends, which was loudly
applauded by all.

“After remarks by quite a number of delegates on the situation and
probabilities of the success of the Confederacy, which were generally
tinged with ill-forebodings, a committee of five was appointed to take
into consideration and report to the assembly ways and means by which
the rebellion could be materially assisted. This report was to be
submitted the next day at 12 o'clock. The meeting then adjourned until
that time.

“During the evening a variety of discussions were indulged in by various
delegates in favor of different schemes. Some went so far as to favor
the assassination of many of our leading men. Wilkes, Page, and quite
a number of persons from the South were in favor of assassinating the
President and Gen. Silent, with such others as the necessity of the case
demanded. And so the conversation and discussions ran until the meeting
of delegates the next day.

“At 12 o'clock the assembly was called to order by Valamburg. When the
roll had been called and all were quiet, the Chairman inquired of the
committee if they were ready to report. The Chairman, Mr. Carey,
arose with great dignity and responded that the committee, after due
consideration of the many suggestions submitted to them, were now ready
to report. He was invited to take the stand, which he did.

“He said that, preliminary to reporting, he desired to make an
explanation, which was as follows: That on his return from Montreal to
Richmond, since the Presidential election, in viewing the many disasters
that had recently befallen the Confederacy, the authorities at Richmond
suggested to him to ascertain if he could communicate in some way with
the newly elected Vice-President, and discover his attitude towards
the people of the South. This was accomplished by sending one of the
Vice-President's old friends from North Carolina to Nashua, who being a
citizen, and not in any way connected with the Confederate army, easily
passed through the Union lines to Nashua, where the Vice-President-elect
was residing at the time. There was no difficulty in agreeing to an
interview between himself and Carey, it being understood that Carey was
to pass into Nashua in disguise and let the Vice-President know in some
way where he was stopping, and the interview was then to be arranged. In
pursuance of this agreement, Carey made the trip to Nashua disguised as
a Louis City merchant, and passing by the name of Thos. E. Hope. He had
no difficulty in getting into Nashua, but for fear of recognition,
went directly to the house of a rebel friend by the name of Hanson, and
remained in a room in the rear of the second story of the house. Through
the lady of the house the Vice-President elect was informed of the
presence of Mr. Carey.

“The next morning the Vice-President visited the house of Mr. Hanson,
and he and Carey had the contemplated interview. Carey said that in
the interview the Vice-President contended for peace on the terms of
a restored Union, but agreed with the Democrats of the North that the
restoration should be on the basis of the old Constitution. Carey
said that in answer to the question as to what he would do if he were
President, the Vice-President said that he would restore the Union if he
could on the old basis, but that the people were tired of war and taxes,
and that unless Silent could drive Laws out of Richmond, capture it,
and destroy the Confederate army during the next Spring campaign, the
Confederacy must be recognized and the war ended.

“At this the assembly heartily cheered. Carey also said that in answer
to the question as to the powers of the Vice-President, in case of the
absence of the President, if he should be so situated that he could not
return to perform the duties of the office, the Vice-President replied
that such a case as stated would certainly come under the provision
of the Constitution, wherein it is recited that in case of the death,
resignation, or inability of the President to discharge the powers and
duties of the said office, the same shall devolve on the Vice-President;
that under such circumstances he should at once assume the duties of
the office, but hoped that such a case would not arise while he was
Vice-President.

“Carey stated that the Vice-President said that he had always been a
Union man, but that he was a Democrat, and had never been anything else,
and did not propose to be; that he was placed on the Republican ticket
without being consulted. Therefore he did not feel under any obligations
to that party. He also stated that he recognized the fact that when it
was evident that the Union could be held together only by subjugating
the people of the South, it was statesmanship to let them go, and stop
further bloodshed. This also brought applause.

“Carey further stated that the Vice-President expressed a willingness to
meet privately with any of our leading men of the South at any time when
and where it could be done without danger to either party. With this the
interview ended. When the parties separated the Vice-President bade him
good-by and grasped his hand in the most friendly and cordial manner. He
said if Carey should experience any trouble in getting back to Richmond
to let him know.

“Carey left the next morning, and returning to Richmond reported the
interview precisely as it occurred, at which the authorities were
greatly pleased, and thought it opened a way for success, knowing
the character of the man, his stubbornness, his egotism, and that he
possessed a belief that he was destined to be President of the United
States at some time. It was not intended to say any more to him than to
ascertain his views on a given state of facts, and having accomplished
this much, the authorities at Richmond felt sure that if the President
of the United States could by some means be captured and spirited away,
and Silent also, or either of them, the success of the Confederacy would
be assured beyond question. In the event of the capture and hiding away
of the President, the Vice-President would surely assume the powers and
duties of President. The friends of the Confederacy in Congress could
then so cripple the Government that no doubt could longer exist of
success. He said it was thought that in the event the President could
not be captured, a party could be organized who could, without much
risk, surprise and capture Gen. Silent. This done, Laws would at once
assume the aggressive, drive Meador and his army back on Washington,
and continue the war beyond the next Spring, so that the friends of the
Confederacy could regain strength, and, with the Vice-President in favor
of the recognition of the Confederate Government, it could not be longer
postponed. But the great thing to be accomplished, he said, was the
capture of Mr. Lincoln; that would end all controversy.

“This seemed to strike the audience, and they cheered the proposition.
Carey then stated that this was the first proposition the committee
desired to present. He had other important ones, however, that must be
considered by the assembly. While in Richmond he found many men of great
courage and daring who were ready to do anything to bring success if
they could be sustained and protected. The authorities gave him the
proposals and directed him to lay them before this assembly.

“The second was made by a foreigner--a man of good family in Europe,
and a most daring and courageous man, an educated soldier, who had been
successful in very many daring enterprises heretofore. His proposition
was read to the assembly, being a verbatim copy of the one this party
had made to the President of the Confederacy through the Confederate
Secretary of War, which was as follows:

     “'Secretary of War of the Southern Confederacy.

     “'Sir: In reference to the subject upon which I had the
     honor to converse with you yesterday, and on account of
     which you bade me call to-day, I take herewith the freedom
     to address this most respectful writing to you. Your Honor
     seemed to hesitate in giving me an affirmative answer to my
     statement because I was unknown to you. Permit me to remark
     that, notwithstanding I can give you no references in this
     country, I am, nevertheless, worthy of your high confidence.
     My grandfather, Maj. Baron De Kalb, fell in the
     Revolutionary War of this country. * * * I received an
     education proportionate to the means of my parents, and
     served in the Crimean war as Second Lieutenant of Engineers.
     * * * I landed in Quebec, Canada, in November last, and
     arrived in Washington, D. C, about three weeks ago. I cannot
     perceive why you should require any references or
     confidence, for I do not expect personally to reap any
     benefit before the strict performance of what I undertake.
     The task I know is connected with some danger, but never
     will it, in any event, become known in the North that the
     Southern Confederacy had anything whatever to do with it.

     “'The whole matter resolves itself, therefore, into this one
     question: Does the Southern Confederacy consider the
     explosion of the Federal Capitol at a time when Abe, his
     myrmidons, and the Northern Congress are all assembled
     together, of sufficient importance to grant me, in case of
     success, a commission as Colonel of Topographical Engineers,
     and the sum of $1,000,000? If so, your Honor may most
     explicitly expect the transaction to be carried into
     execution between the 4th and 6th of the month. * * * I
     trust you will not press in regard to the manner in which I
     intend to perform it, or anything connected with the
     execution.

     “'In case of an affirmative answer there is no time to
     spare; and to show you still further my sincerity, I will
     even refrain from asking for any pecuniary assistance in
     carrying the project through, notwithstanding my means are,
     for such an undertaking, very limited, and that some funds
     would materially lighten my task, diminish the danger, and
     doubly insure success. * * * I intend to throw myself at a
     convenient place into Maryland and to enter Washington by
     way of Baltimore.

     “'Very respectfully, your obedient servant, “'

     (Signed)
     C. L. V. DeKalb.'


“Carey said that this man was in the employ of the Confederacy, but that
the authorities would not adopt his scheme without the indorsement of
their Northern friends, so that those friends could have warning and
not be endangered at the time. This man being a foreigner, and not
understanding the situation, regarded all Northern men alike and would
destroy one as soon as another. Therefore, those having the authority
to do so, would not accept the proposition unless due notice could be
secretly given, under the obligations of the Sons of Liberty, to
their friends in Congress. Carey said he thought this a very dangerous
undertaking on account of the friends who might be imperiled, but felt
that there was no doubt but it could be accomplished.

“Walters spoke up at this point, saying this proposition was not
feasible at all, and a number assented to his remark.

“Mr. Carey said the third proposition was also in the form of a
communication, and was placed in his hands by the authorities in
Richmond for consideration by the Northern friends, and was in the
following language, which he proceeded to read:

     “'Boston P.O., Ga. “'Jefferson Davis.

     “'Sir: Having a desire to be of benefit to the Southern
     States is the only excuse I can offer for addressing you
     this letter; and believing the best plan would be to dispose
     of the leading characters of the North, for that reason I
     have experimented in certain particulars that will do this
     without difficulty; although it is quite an underhanded
     manner of warfare, and not knowing whether it would meet
     with your approbation or not, prevents me from giving you a
     full account of the material used, although I believe any
     one of them would take the life of a Southern man in any way
     they could. If you wish, write to me and get the whole
     process.

     “'Hoping for your good health and future victory. “'

     (Signed)
     J. S. Paramore.'


“Said Carey: 'This man was sent for and closely examined as to what he
proposed, and by the experiments made by our best scientists they were
of opinion that his plan could be made a success, as the process was
without doubt effective. The question, however, was not as to the
process by which this could be done, but must we resort to it? Had all
other means failed?'

“The other proposition was on the same line, but proposing a different
mode of execution, which Carey also read:

     “'Headquarters 63d Ga. Reg't.,

     “'Near Savannah. “'To President Davis.

     “'Mr. President: After long meditation and much reflection
     on the subject of this communication, I have determined to
     intrude it upon you, earnestly hoping my motives will
     constitute a full vindication for such presumption on the
     part of one so humble and obscure as myself, though I must
     say that the evidences of your Christian humility almost
     assure me. I propose, with your permission, to assist in
     organizing a number of select men, say not less than 300 to
     500, to go into the United States and assassinate, for
     instance, Seward, Lincoln, Greeley, Prentice, and others,
     considering it necessary to the chances of success at this
     time. I will only say a few words as to the opinion of its
     effects. I have made it a point to elicit the opinion of
     many men upon this subject, in whose good sense I have great
     confidence, and while a difference of opinion to some extent
     is almost inevitable, most have confidence in its benefit to
     us. The most plausible argument seems to be that to impress
     upon the Northern mind that for men in high places there to
     wield their influence in favor of the barbarisms they have
     been so cruelly practicing upon us is to jeopardize their
     lives; for distinguished leaders there to feel that the
     moment they array hordes for our desolation, at that moment
     their existence is in the utmost peril--this would produce
     hesitation and confusion that would hasten peace and our
     independence. With these meager suggestions upon the subject
     I will leave it for this time. If you deem the matter worthy
     of any encouragement, and will so apprize me, I believe I
     can give you such evidences of loyalty and integrity of
     character as will entitle it to your consideration. So far
     as I am concerned, I will say, however, that I was born and
     raised in Middle Georgia. All my relationships and
     affections are purely Southern. I was opposed to secession,
     but am now committed to the death against subjugation or
     reunion with men of whose instincts and moral character,
     till this war, I was totally ignorant. If I have insulted
     any scruple or religious principle of yours I beg to be
     pardoned.   I neglected to state in the proper place that I
     am an officer in the volunteer service.

     “'Begging your respectful attention to this communication,

     “I am, your Excellency's most obedient servant,

     “'H. C. Durham, 63d Ga.'


“The reading of this communication was received with cheers from quite
a number of those present, principally Southern men. Carey said that the
Secretary of War had sent for Durham, and that he was then at Richmond.
He was a fine looking, intelligent man, terribly in earnest. This was
thought, although there was hesitancy about it in the Cabinet, to be a
much more feasible undertaking than the attempt to explode the Capitol
at Washington. The necessity for some radical measure to be adopted and
put into execution at once was the reason for these documents having
been taken from the archives and placed in the present hands in their
original form.

“Lieut. W. Alston, of Sulphur Springs, Va., who was present, as stated
by Carey, also proposed to the authorities at Richmond to undertake to
rid the country of the Confederacy's most deadly enemies, and authorized
the committee to say that he, here and now, renewed his proposition; all
of which Carey submitted to the assembly for their consideration.

“The propositions having been submitted in due form, the Chairman stated
that they were before the assembly and open for consideration. Jacob
Thomlinson opened the discussion, and said that these propositions were
of the most vital importance; that the success of the Confederacy hung
upon the action of this assembly. The authorities were waiting with
bated breath until they could hear what their Northern friends would
consider proper and feasible to be at once entered upon. He wanted no
more promises without performance. He would save the Confederacy by
any means if he could, and would consider himself justified. If some
of these measures had been resorted to much earlier it would have been
better. He said that war was mere barbarism and cruelty; that plunder,
burning, pillage and assassination were merely the concomitants, and a
part of the system, of all wars; that when men make war it means crime,
rapine and murder, and those engaging in it should so understand. Each
party is expected to capture all of the enemy that can be so taken,
and to kill all that resist. It was proper to pick out and deliberately
shoot down the Generals. He asked if it would be any worse to secretly
capture Lincoln and Silent, the two leaders and commanders of all the
United States forces, or to assassinate either or both of them, than to
shoot them near our lines. He contended that if either or both of them
should be seen near the Confederate lines they would be shot down, and
the persons doing it would be rewarded with medals of honor, and would
go down into history as great patriots for performing the act. If this
were true, as all must concede, why should it be considered a dark and
damnable deed in time of war, when a great and dire necessity required,
for two such tyrants to be put out of the way in the cause of liberty?
He insisted that no difference could exist, save in the minds of
individuals morbid on the subject of human life. He said that he had
witnessed enough shamming, and heard enough shallow professions, and
wanted no more of either; that the promises of some of their Northern
friends, already broken, had cost the Confederacy millions of dollars in
coin, and had left him individually bankrupt and impoverished. There had
been nothing but a series of failures growing out of the pretenses
of some of their Northern allies. He was very severe on many of them,
especially on Cornington and Eagle, of Chicago, and Strider and Bowen,
of Indiana, all of whom he charged with getting large sums of money for
use in the late election and for other purposes. He said they neither
accounted for its disposition, nor had they entered an appearance, after
promising on their obligation to do so. This he considered the
most unwarranted course of conduct of which any one could have been
guilty--no less than the deepest-dyed perfidy. When he closed his speech
he was cheered to the echo.” Dr. Adams said: “This man Thomlinson was
a very brutal man in his instincts. He seemed also to have been out of
humor with his co-conspirators. He was certainly very angry and much
disappointed that his schemes had all failed. But how an intelligent
man could argue and justify assassination, as he seemed to do, I cannot
understand.”

Col. Bush replied: “Doctor, you must see that this man, no matter what
he may have been in former years, had become a hardened, inhuman wretch.
Do you not remember that he was the same person who employed men to
gather poisoned clothes for the distribution of disease, as well as
his attempt to have our cities burned, but was thwarted by Divine
Providence, in my judgment?”

“Yes, I remember all this, and God knows that seemed the extreme of
barbarism and inhumanity; but his last proposition in his argument was
deliberate, cold-blooded murder in order to gain a political end; and to
think of Northern men listening at any time to such propositions without
remonstrance or disapproval in any way makes me shudder.”

“They seemed to indorse it instead of manifesting disapproval,” said
Ingelsby, “and I have no doubt they favored it, and in some way assisted
in trying to have it carried out.”

“Yes, yes,” said Uncle Daniel; “the half of the treachery and diabolical
deeds of many of our Northern men, now leaders, is not known or
understood; but, my dear friends, I will continue my story:

“When Thomlinson had concluded his remarks, Valamburg followed in a like
strain, and concluded with a 'so help him God' that he was ready for
any enterprise to serve-the Confederacy, no matter how dark nor how
desperate and bloody. This was received with a wild shout, as though
some rebel victory had been announced.

“Walters, of Arkansas, then addressed the assembly. He said he was
in favor of the first proposition; that there seemed to be something
practical in it. Since their last meeting he had been all over the
North, even in Washington city, and there was not the slightest
difficulty in passing to and fro without any questions being asked. He
said he saw the President riding out beyond Georgetown with only one
person accompanying him; that there would not have been the slightest
trouble in five men capturing him and crossing the river into Virginia,
or retreating into Maryland and passing along on byways with him to
where he could have been securely kept until a chance was afforded for
conveying him to some more secure place. So far as putting him out of
the way was concerned, there would not be the slightest difficulty in
doing that, but he thought the other the best, taking all things into
consideration. The one would be considered a clean trick, and perfectly
legitimate warfare, while the other would not, and would arouse the
Northern people to more energetic measures. He said that he did not
think there would be very great difficulty in capturing Silent; that he
had made inquiry about him, and found that he seldom had anything
more than a few men as escort, and kept but a small company as his
headquarters guard; that 100 good, picked men could capture him almost
any night. If they even failed, it would only make those who attempted
it prisoners of war, so that they would be exchanged. This, if
accomplished, in case of either Lincoln or Silent, would secure the
Confederacy. With Lincoln captured, the Vice-President would only be
too glad to have an excuse for the recognition of the Confederacy.
With Silent captured, Gen. Laws would again be master of the situation.
Silent was the only match for him in the United States. So far as the
Vice-President was concerned, he was in a bad humor with the whole
administration. He (Walters) had seen him and conversed with him since
the time mentioned at which Mr. Carey had his interview. Walters had
been at Nashua, and remained for several days unmolested, and had
talked freely with quite a number of persons who were intimate with
the Vice-President, and who were conversant with his views and knew
his feelings. He said that the Vice-President suggested to him to get
through the lines and go to Richmond, and say to the authorities there
that if he were President he would recognize the Southern Confederacy;
but he (Walters) did not then have full confidence in what he was
saying, as he was rather in his cups at the time. But since he had heard
what Mr. Carey had learned in his interview with him he had no further
reason to doubt his sincerity.

“Mr. Wilkes here interposed and asked whether the whole question of
recognition by the Vice-President did not entirely depend upon the
capture and successful spiriting away of Lincoln.

“Mr. Walters answered in the affirmative.

“Wilkes then said: 'Suppose this scheme should fail, what then?'

“'Walters remarked that that was a question to be determined by this
meeting, and that he did not wish to decide it in advance.

“Mr. Spangler, from Illinois, said that he did not desire to detain the
assembly with a long speech, but he wished to impress upon the minds of
the delegates present that in the State from which he came, he did not
think the assassination of Lincoln and Silent would be indorsed, as it
would raise such a storm there that all their friends would be driven
from the State. He was in favor of their capture and, in fact, anything
that was thought necessary; but as he lived in the same town with Mr.
Lincoln, he would not like to be forced to stem the torrent if he,
Lincoln, should be assassinated. He would cheerfully vote for the first
proposition, and at the same time pay $100 into the general pool for
that purpose. This brought down the house--money seemed to be the one
thing they greatly desired. He said: 'Now, Mr. Chairman, who is the
Treasurer?'

“The Chairman answered that Mr. Thomlinson had the disbursing as well as
the authority to receive all funds for the carrying out of the objects
of the meeting.

“'Then,' said Spangler, 'here is my $100.' handing it to Thomlinson.
This started the ball, and in a few minutes $5,000 were raised and
handed over to Thomlinson, who thanked the friends for their liberality.

“The debate here closed and the vote was taken on the propositions. The
Chairman said he would put the third, or last, proposition first, which
was, whether the assembly would indorse the proposition of Capt. Alston
and Mr. Durham, who proposed to organize a force and assassinate the
leading men of the North who are prominent in the war against the South,
and recommend the authorities of the Southern Confederacy to carry out
the proposed project. The question being stated, the vote was taken.
Being very close, the roll had to be called, and the proposition was
lost by three votes.

“The next proposition was the one submitted by De Kalb to the
Confederacy, to blow up the Capitol at Washington when Congress should
be in session. The vote being taken, this proposition was lost; it being
deemed inexpedient on account of the danger of destroying so many of
their own friends.

“The last proposition to be voted on was whether the assembly would
recommend to the authorities at Richmond to organize a force and capture
Lincoln and Silent, or either of them, and hold the captive or captives
until the Confederacy should be recognized. This question was taken and
carried unanimously with a great hurrah and three cheers for the man or
men who should accomplish this most desirable object.

“After the proposition had been agreed to, Mr. Page and Capt. Alston
both desired to know what was to be done, if anything, should this
attempt to capture those men fail. Quite a discussion here arose, during
which considerable feeling was shown on the part of some of the Southern
men. Finally they determined to recommend that Wilkes, Page, Alston and
Durham be put in charge and organize for the purpose mentioned, and that
they receive their instructions directly from Jacob Thomlinson. One of
these men should go to Richmond with C. C. Carey, and there meet Durham
and consult with the authorities as to the route to be adopted in
getting into and out of Washington, and the means to be resorted to for
their assistance and protection; also that, in the event of failure in
capturing either of those men, then in that case they, or some of
them, were to return to Canada and confer further with Thomlinson; and
whatever measures he and they should adopt that looked like bringing
success were to be carried out, with the understanding that the assembly
here and now assented to it; which it did, and appointed Mr. Thom-linson
with power to act as fully as if the matter had been laid before it and
agreed to by a vote.

“This concluded the business of the delegates, and they adjourned
to meet on the call of the Grand Commander at any future time when
necessary for the benefit of the cause of the Confederacy. Henry
remained a day or so in order to note any further developments. Carey
and Page left at once for Richmond, intending to make their way in
disguise by rail into West Virginia, and from there to Richmond. Wilkes
started for New York and Alston for Buffalo. They were to make their
way to Baltimore, and meet there on a certain day and remain until
Page should return from Richmond with Durham. They were then to have an
understanding as to how they should operate. Before leaving they all had
a secret meeting with Thomlin-son, but what instructions they received
of a private nature Henry did not know, except that he learned if their
scheme should fail, one or more of them were to return at once to Canada
and consult further with Thomlinson as to their future operations.

“'I required this to be written in full by Henry, and leaving him and
his wife, Seraine, with what of our family was now left, I telegraphed
to the President:

“'Stay indoors; important; am coming!

“(Signed)Daniel.'

“'I at once left for Washington, feeling that time was important.
The desperation of these men was such that they would undertake an
enterprise of any kind, and the condition of the Confederacy such that
nothing less than some heroic remedy would avail anything.

“When I arrived at Washington it was early in the morning. I directed
my steps toward the Executive Mansion. On arriving at the door the usher
recognized me, but said that the President had not been to breakfast.

“'I said: 'I do not wish to disturb him, but it is very important that I
see him before a crowd comes in. I will remain here.'

“He stepped in and very soon returned, and at once showed me to the
President's office up-stairs. He was waiting for me, and as I entered he
came forward with both hands extended, and said, 'My dear friend Lyon,
how are you?'

“I answered him as to my health in a sad tone. He spoke of my great
afflictions in the most tender manner, and inquired as to the telegram.

“'I said: 'Mr. President, this paper,' handing him Henry's report, 'will
explain it.'

“He said: 'This is a long paper--as long as a President's message,' and
laughed, saying, 'I expect you have been writing one for me?'

“'I replied that it was an important message for a President. At this he
laughed, and said:

“'That is quite good, and is a very wise distinction; but,' said he, 'we
will not read it now. When we get our breakfast, that will do, will it
not?'

“I replied: 'Yes, perhaps it will.'

“He would have me take breakfast with him. His family only were present,
and we all conversed freely, but principally about the late election
and our success in the West against Head, and the prospects of Silent
against Laws. He was feeling very happy and confident of final victory.
He told me about having just returned with the Secretary of State from
Hampton Roads, where they had met the Vice-President of the Southern
Confederacy and others on a peace mission; 'but,' said he, 'it was
the same kind of peace that the Copperheads have been preaching, under
instructions from Richmond and the rebel agents in Canada, for three
years.'

“After breakfast we returned to his office. He instructed his usher that
he could see no one for the present. Being seated, he drew the paper
that I had given him from his side pocket and commenced reading. Very
soon he exhibited some little excitement, rang his bell and sent for the
Secretary of War, who soon came in. After the Secretary had exchanged
compliments with me, the President continued reading. When he had
finished he turned to me and said:

“'This is the most extraordinary thing that I have ever read or heard
of, in or out of history. Mr. Secretary, please read this.'

[Illustration: Uncle Daniel conferring with Lincoln and Stanton 404]

“The Secretary read it very carefully and remarked: 'This is what they
are coming to; they will stop at nothing. But the most surprising part
of all is the attitude of your Vice-President. What can he mean by
hobnobbing with those traitors and having interviews with one of their
principal leaders inside of our lines?' “'Yes,' said the President;
'this is strange, indeed.' “After further conversation it was determined
to have the Cabinet officers meet that day. The President also directed
the Secretary of War to ask Gen. Silent to be at the Executive Mansion
the next morning. He asked me to remain in Washington and come to see
him the next day at 10 o'clock, and not to fail. I left, went to the
Owen House and took a room.

“While there I met a man in rather delicate health, who said his name
was Alston, that he was a Canadian, and had come to Washington on
account of the mildness of the climate. He was about five feet ten
inches in height, hazel eyes, light hair, with small goatee; was quite
a nervous man, moving his hands, or sitting down and immediately rising
again, picking his teeth, or pulling his goatee. I remembered the man's
name as that of one of the conspirators, and marked him well. On inquiry
I found he had arrived the day before and was intending, as he said, to
remain for some time in order to test the climate in his case. I stepped
up to the War Department, and finding my friend, the Secretary, in, I
asked him to send a detective with me, and he did so. I put him on the
man and said no more to any one until I met the President and others the
next day.

“At 10 o'clock the following morning, I appeared at the Mansion and was
admitted at once. On entering the President's office I met Gen. Silent.
Having previously met him at Chatteraugus and elsewhere, he recognized
me, and after the usual compliments asked about Gen. Anderson. I told
him about my misfortunes, the last of which he was not aware of. He said
no more for a short time; he then asked me if Gen. Anderson would not
like to come East and have a better command. He said he did not think he
had been given a command equal to his ability; that he would order
him East if agreeable. I wrote the General as soon as I returned to my
hotel.

“The conversation was then turned to the report of Henry. The
President seemed serious, and said the astounding statement about the
Vice-President worried him, and yet, he said, it was almost incredible.

“Gen. Silent said he could believe it, but was very much surprised at
his having the interview and disclosing his opinions to our enemies.
Silent said he made some curious statements to him while he was making
his headquarters at Nashua, but he attributed it to Tennessee whisky
more than to any wrong motive in his mind, until he repeated the same
things over more than once. He thought strange of it, but did not
mention the conversation.

“'But,' said the Secretary, 'what do you say to the attempt they are to
make to capture you two gentlemen?'

“Silent said: 'That scheme has already failed. Our knowledge of the fact
defeats it. You must have a guard of at least one company of infantry
at or near the White House, and the officers must be notified, in
confidence, why they are placed here. There must be a company of cavalry
ordered here for escort to the President, and he must not go out of call
of the guards without an escort.'

“The President said: 'This will not look well, but I suppose I must do
it for safety. I do not like this Vice-President's talk; it worries me.
But how about yourself, Gen. Silent; they seem to be after you as well.'

“'Yes,' said the General; 'but you must remember that I am surrounded by
an army, and this notice protects me. I will look after that hereafter.
The truth is, they might have caught me napping, as I have heretofore
had but a small guard. I will make it large enough when I return. My
fears, however, are very much increased, as I see that there were many
of those conspirators in favor of taking the proposition to assassinate
instead of capture. That can be done in spite of guards, by reckless men
who will take desperate chances. This is what we must look out for. I
see that they are to take orders from Jacob Thomlinson, who is a most
reckless man, without any of the instincts of humanity, and utterly
without any regard for the rules of civilized warfare. He is a very
dangerous man if he has about him those who will do his bidding. So look
out, Mr. President; my judgment is that you will be in imminent peril.'

“'Yes,' said the President. 'Gen. Silent do you remember the dream I
repeated to you when you came to Washington?'

“'Oh, yes,' said Gen. Silent, 'perfectly; and in that dream I was to
be murdered as soon as the rebellion should be ended. But I do not
feel alarmed about myself; dreams, you know, Mr. President, go by
contraries.'

“'Yes,' said the President, 'I will not say that I believe in dreams,
neither do I; yet they make an impression on my mind.'

“Gen. Silent said no more on the subject, and the conversation on that
topic was dropped.

“'I was asked if I would send Henry back to Canada to watch further
developments. I assented. They all thought that perhaps in this way we
would be able to head off any further scheme as the one reported had
been.

“I then related what I had discovered at the Owen House, and suggested
a close watch on this man Alston. The President took up the report, and
finding the name, thought there might be something in my suggestion.
They sent for the detective that I had placed to watch him, and he
informed us that this man drank pretty freely, and had disclosed to him
while in his cups the night before that he was from St. Catharine's,
Canada; that he had plenty of money in gold, and was desirous of finding
some five or six good, active, bold and daring young men, who would be
likely to be fond of an adventure. The detective was sent back at
once with instructions to arrest him and have him taken to Old Capitol
Prison. If any questions should be asked, he was to answer that the
Secretary of War had directed it. The next morning it was telegraphed
all over the country that a Mr. Alston was arrested in Washington for
attempting to hire men to kidnap the President; and so the scheme, was
exploded.

“The next day I bade the President and the Secretary good-by, at the
same time warning the President of his great danger. He could not thank
me enough, he said, for my interest. Silent had left for the army. Just
as I was leaving, the President said to me in a whisper:

“'Look out for a great battle soon, and with it you will hear of the
fall of Richmond.'

“I thanked him for his confidence in me and left. On arriving at home
I found all well and very anxious to see me, as this had been my first
absence since the death of my wife and Peter. Henry had seen the notice
of Alston's arrest, and when I described him he said he was the right
man. I wrote to the President what Henry said, and Alston remained in
prison.

“In a short time I heard from Gen. Anderson. He was willing to go East.
I telegraphed Gen. Silent and he ordered him to report at once. He came
by home on his way and remained over several days. Lieut. Whitcomb was
with him. While there I related all that had taken place. He thought
Henry should return at once to Canada, leaving Seraine with us. He said
it would be dangerous since Alston's arrest to risk writing, so Henry
would have to come to my house with any information that he might have.
Henry left at once and the General the next day.

“We were alone again. The women and children were weeping over the
departure of Henry and the General. Aunt Martha came in and said:

“'Bress de good Laud, chil'n, what is you cryin' 'bout. De Gen! all
right; dars no danger 'bout him; he am safe. De Laud protect him. He dun
sabe him all dis time for good. Don't you see de Sesh git whip whareber
he goes? Dey all done killed down whar he bin, and now dey jest' take
him ober by whar Marsa Linkum am, and de Sesh all git smash up ober dar
de same way as what dey is down whar he bin afore.'

“Old Ham chimed in: 'Yas, Marfa, dat am de fac\ You see, when I goes wid
Marsa Gen'l, he gets shotted nearly ebery time. I not understand dis,
but he not git any time hurt when I's away. How is dat, Marfa? Guess it
best for me not be wid him. I tell you I guess I see it all now; de Laud
want me to stay here wid dese womens and dese chil'ns, and Marsa Gen'l
he not t'ink ob dat, so de Laud jes' let him git hurted, so he hab to
come and stay wid de folks and hab me heah? Is dat it, Marfa?'

“'Yes, dat am de case; and I 'spec you is glad, kase you is a powerful
coward, Ham; you knows you is.'

“'Marfa, you neber see me fightin' dem Sesh. Else you not say dem hard
words 'bout Ham. No, indeed, you not know 'bout me.'

“'I 'specs dat's so, Ham. How many of de Sesh does you 'specs you is
killed?'

“'Don' know, don' know. I neber counted em; war too busy, Marfa.'

“This was getting Ham into a close place, and he retired.

“In a few days Henry returned and reported that the arrest of Alston
had alarmed the conspirators in Canada very greatly. Carey and Page
were still in Richmond. Wilkes had returned to Canada and had been at
Montreal with Thomlinson, but Henry could get nothing out of him, as
Thomlinson thought it best not to have any one know what was to be
attempted unless they could aid in carrying it out; but he said the
country would be startled very soon. Henry surmised what he meant, and
as soon as he could get away from Wintergreen he left for home.

“I sent him to the President with this information, also a letter
calling the President's attention to his great danger, and the danger in
which the country would be in the event that anything should occur that
would put the Vice-President in power. This was the last communication I
ever had with the best of all Presidents.”




CHAPTER XX.

     COLLAPSE OF THE GREAT REBELLION.--LAWS' ARMY SURRENDERS.--
     THE ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN.

     “After life's  fitful fever, he sleeps well:
     Treason has done his worst; nor steel nor poison,
     Malice domestic, foreign envy, nothing
     Can touch him farther.”
      --Shakespeare.

“When I left off speaking of Gen. Silent and his command in the East, and
continued my story about the West and Center, you will remember that he
had passed through eight days of bloody contest with Laws. We must now
return to him and understand the condition of things on his line while
these events were transpiring in the North, in Canada, and in Sherwood's
department, of which I have given you a history.

“Silent moved out in the night time the last of May, and on June the
first found a heavy force in his front. Fighting at once began again.
Sherlin was in the advance, and by direction held his ground through
that night. By daylight support reached him and his position was
secure. Silent now established his headquarters at an old tavern, under
wide-spreading trees, at Cool Haven, some ten or twelve miles from the
rebel Capital, and at once assaulted Laws in his works. The Union troops
charged with great dash and heroism, taking the enemy's first line of
rifle-pits; but the enemy, falling back to his shorter and stronger
line, was enabled to hold his position and force our troops to abandon
the assault. The contest continued during the afternoon and evening. Our
losses were quite heavy.

“On the next day a general assault was made, which resulted in our
repulse. The enemy being behind heavy earthworks, it proved too great a
task to dislodge him. Onr army was now intrenched, and heavy skirmishing
continued for several days. Laws made two assaults on our lines, but was
repulsed with severe loss on both occasions.

“A few more days of skirmishing and desultory fighting, and the campaign
closed for the season. During the Summer, Silent had succeeded in
holding Laws close to Richmond. The Copperhead press and orators of
the North made him the especial target for their calumny during the
Presidential campaign. This course was evidently directed from Richmond
and Canada.

“The following September, Silent, with his usual vigor, began active
operations against the enemy. Sherlin was now in the valley of the
Shannon, operating against the rebel Gen. Dawn, and Silent was holding
Sentinel Point as his headquarters, and directing operations from there.
On the morning of the last day of September Boutler moved from Deep
Valley. Orden's Corps moved by the Veranda road close to the river,
Burns by the new Sales road, and the cavalry by the Derby road to our
right. All our forces were now moving in the direction of the rebel
Capital.

“Our troops struck the rebel works and attacked them at five o'clock
p.m., and after desperate fighting for hours Fort Harris was taken, with
its fifteen guns and all its garrison; also, the line of works running
down to Champ's farm, with several hundred prisoners. Thus again the
work of war had begun in earnest. Silent stood on the side of the fort,
and could with his field-glass view the whole line of rebel works now
held by them, as well as see the church spires in Richmond. Our cavalry
had advanced on our right to within six miles of the Capital. This was
very encouraging. Yet many a bloody battle must be fought before the
prize could be ours.

“Burns now made a gallant assault against the enemy's works in front of
his advance, but, unfortunately, was repulsed. This checked the advance
of our troops on this part of the line. Boutler's position now extended
from the river (James) to the Derby road, fronting Richmond.

“Meador's command was in front of Petersville. In the afternoon of the
next day Parker's Division of Warner's Corps was attacked near Boyd's
road. He was promptly re-enforced, and the rebels were repulsed with
great loss. Fort Harris was also assaulted with a view of recapture, as
it was a very important position. The attempt failed, and we still held
the fort.

“Our right and left wings were now being slowly advanced in the
direction of the Capital, under the very eye of Laws, the rebel
commander. He had the advantage in this, that it would require a day
for Silent to move from one flank to the other, while Laws, holding
the chord of the circle, could re-enforce any part of his line in a few
hours. Laws could not by any possibility stretch his line much farther,
while Silent was steadily acquiring more ground.

“The greatest consternation now prevailed in the city of Richmond. Its
evacuation was seriously contemplated. The publication of the newspapers
was suspended, and the printers were called out to defend the city. Some
of the city police fell into our hands. Offices and shops were closed.
The church bells sounded the alarm. Guards were sent into the streets to
impress every able-bodied man. Members of the Government were sent into
the trenches, and all between the ages of fifteen and fifty-five were
ordered under arms. Laws stubbornly held his position. He could plainly
see that Silent was determined to fight it out and settle the contest
in and about Richmond, without being driven or drawn away, unless some
alarm at Washington should cause a change of his campaign.

“After many movements, counter-movements, and much fighting, of all
which I cannot speak in this narrative, Laws concluded to set Ewelling
at the work of threatening our Capital. He crossed the Potomac and
turned and threatened Washington, expecting Silent's army to be at once
ordered to its defense; but this made no impression on Silent. He sent
Wight's Corps to meet Ewelling and to follow him, which was done, and
the danger to our Capital passed. Ewelling struck for the Valley of the
Shannon, passed into Maryland and the border of Pennsylvania, levying
contributions as he marched through towns and country, returning with
much booty to the valley mentioned, joining Dawn. In the meantime Wight
was following him. Sherlin was sent to take command of these forces.
He fell upon Ewelling and Dawn, and almost annihilated their commands,
driving what was left of them entirely out of that part of the country,
and making such a desolation that another movement in that direction by
the rebels would be wholly impracticable. Leaving a sufficient force
to prevent any further movement, he returned to the army near Richmond,
destroying railroads, canals, and in fact nearly all the enemy's lines
of communication of any advantage to him.

“In the meantime an attempt was made by our forces in front of
Petersville to mine and blow up some of the enemy's main forts. The main
sap was run some 500 feet, until it was under a fort on Cemetery Hill.
Wings were constructed to the right and left of the sap or tunnel, so
that about four tons of powder were placed under the fort, tamped with
sand bags and wood. The intention was to explode the mine, and at the
moment of the explosion to open with all the artillery in this front
on the enemy's lines, and to rapidly move a storming column through the
crater and carry the high ground in rear, which, if in our possession,
would command the city and the enemy's works. At about 3:30 on the
morning of the 30th of July the fuse was lighted, but no explosion
followed. Many attempts were made before the powder ignited. The
suspense was great. Silent was quietly waiting to see the result.

“Finally the smoke was seen and the dead, heavy sound was heard,
like unto the mutterings of distant thunder or the rumblings of an
earthquake. Following this the whole surroundings were darkened, and up
far in the air were sent guns, gun-carriages, caissons, picks, shovels,
timbers and human beings. They went up in a confused mass and came down
as though falling from the clouds in fragments. Many poor fellows were
blown to atoms. Our artillery opened, and the cannonading that followed
perhaps was never equaled during the war. A column of infantry charged
into the crater and there hesitated and halted after capturing those
who were left alive. This hesitation gave the enemy time to recover from
their astonishment and alarm. They rallied and opened a terribly galling
fire into the crater. Support was sent in, which only made the confusion
among our men the greater. A cross-fire was now poured into them in the
breach, and it was turned into a great slaughter-pen. Both sides were
slaughtered in great numbers. Rebel and Union troops, white and colored
men, were mixed together, crying to one another for help. The scene,
as described by those who witnessed it, was one upon which no one could
wish to dwell. Our people felt this disaster as much as any during the
war. It was used by our enemies everywhere to prove our commander to be
a heartless butcher.

“About this time an ordnance boat loaded with supplies of ammunition was
exploded at or near Silent's headquarters at Sentinel Point. The report
alarmed every one for miles around. The earth shook and trembled as if
this globe was dissolving. Fragments of shell, wood and human beings
fell about the locality like hail coming down. Men shrieked and ran
wildly about, thinking that the final end of all things was at hand.
Silent was near by, but uttered not a word. He entered his tent, quietly
sat down, and wrote a dispatch describing the disaster.

“Time wore on without any very great results either way, until the
armies were all ready for the final movement in the Spring following.
Silent was still steadily gaining ground to his left, and holding Laws
close to his lines, at the same time keeping his cavalry in motion, to
the great annoyance of the enemy. In February, 1865, when I was at the
Capital, where I met the President, Secretary of War and Gen. Silent,
the campaign of Sherwood north to the rear of Richmond was about
commencing; but I was not then aware of it. Gen. Silent was also
getting ready for his final move against Laws, though he was waiting for
Sherwood and Scoven to make a junction at or near Goldsburg, in North
Carolina.

“In the meantime Charleston had been evacuated; Columbia, S. C,
surrendered, and many of our starving prisoners were there released from
their deadly and poisonous prison-pens, not fit for pigs, even, to live
in. Cotton had been piled in the streets of Columbia by the retreating
rebels and set on fire. When our troops entered the city they put the
fire out, as they thought. In the evening, however, the smoldering
fire was fanned into flames by a strong wind, and the burning flakes of
cotton lighting on and against houses, set them on fire. One division
of our forces worked hard to subdue the conflagration, but in vain.
The flames leaped from housetop to housetop, as if some unseen hand was
aiding in the terrible work of devastation. Men, women and children
left their houses in their night-dresses, screaming and crying for help.
Nothing could be done to allay the destruction. A great portion of the
city was laid in ashes, and many people were in the streets houseless
and homeless. The troops of Sherwood did all in their power to alleviate
the suffering, by dividing blankets and food, and also by taking as many
families as could be placed in the wagons to a point from whence they
could take shipping North, where, on their arrival, they were amply
provided for.

“Again moving forward rapidly, Sherwood's left wing struck Harding's
rebel corps at Averyville, and drove it in rout from its position. Our
left wing then moved by rapid marches on the Burton and Goldsburg road,
the right wing moving on a shorter and more direct route in the same
direction, many miles to the south. At Burton's Cross-roads the head
of column of the left wing struck the rebel army under command of Gen.
Jones, who had again been placed at the head of the forces collected
together since Head's defeat at Nashua. His forces were now commanded by
Harding, Biggs, Chatham and Hamden, the latter commanding his cavalry.
The Union forces, under Gen. Somers, discovering that a large force was
in their front, deployed two divisions and attacked, but could not drive
the enemy from his position. Somers hastily constructed earthworks and
held the enemy in his position until the right wing, or a portion of
it, could come to his relief. The word was soon sent to the General
commanding the right wing, and the Fifteenth and Seventeenth Corps were
dispatched at once to Burton's Cross-roads.

“They arrived early on the next morning, having received the order late
at night. The General commanding the Fifteenth Corps, which was in the
advance, at once formed his leading division (Gen. Charles Ward's) and
charged the enemy's works. His men went on the run over the works and
right into his trenches, the General commanding the corps leading and
leaping his horse over the parapet in the midst of a shower of deadly
missiles. Our men captured the rebels who were in their front, and a
general stampede of the enemy followed, and in a short time Jones and
his whole command were hastily making their escape across Mill Run.
The march was not any farther impeded, and Sherwood's army marched to
Goldsburg, where, as before stated, they joined Scoven, and thus ended
the hard fighting of Sherwood's army.

“The President and Vice-President had been inaugurated, and the message
of the President was so mild and conciliatory, breathing forgiveness and
charity in such an honest and earnest spirit, that many thought it might
have some influence on the feelings of the enemy in respect to the Union
in which they had lived and controlled so long to their own advantage.
But no; the more he expressed sentiments of respect for their opinions
the more bitter they became, denouncing every expression of kindness as
an insult to their people; so that it was determined there should be no
let-up in any way whatever--no armistice nor rest, but when the movement
commenced, to let that end the rebellion before ceasing. The country
was now up to this point, and all were ready and fully prepared for the
result.

“Gen. Silent had now directed Papson, as well as Sherwood, to keep
their cavalry at work in destroying lines of communication, bridges,
and supplies of the enemy. Willston in the West was operating south
of Tennessee, cutting off all chance of re-enforcements from that
direction, and Sherwood's cavalry in the direction of Augusta and
northward, performing the same character of service, while Sherlin was
again marching with 10,000 cavalry around Laws, making the whole country
untenable for want of facilities in gathering supplies, of which at
this time the enemy was in great need. The whole coast from Savannah
to Newbern, with forts, gunboats and munitions of war, was now in our
hands, with 100,000 as good soldiers as ever marched or fought a battle
almost entirely untrammeled, well supplied, and ready to drive Jones or
any opposing force north back to Laws, where the whole could be crushed
at one blow. Sherwood was to so conduct his movements as to detain Jones
in his front until the 10th of April, and then he was to move directly
against him and drive and follow him; but if possible, to get to the
Roanoke River, so as to hold Laws in his position.

“While Silent was preparing for his final movement against the enemy,
which was to commence on the 29th of March, Laws, suspecting the
movement, on the morning of the 25th, selecting the weakest point in our
lines, as he thought, assaulted the right of Meador's position in front
of the Ninth Corps. The point assaulted was a small fort known as Fort
Sleman, where the two opposing forces were not more than 200 yards
separated from each other. At dawn of day the rebels moved against
this point with Gadden's Corps, re-enforced by Bush Jones's division.
Parker's pickets were overwhelmed and the trenches taken by the enemy,
so that the main line of the Union forces was broken. The rebels now
seeing their advantage wheeled to the right and left, sweeping our lines
before them, and capturing our batteries, which they at once turned upon
Fort Sleman. The fort made all resistance possible, but, being assaulted
in front, flank and rear, was compelled to surrender. The guns of
the fort were now turned upon our own lines on either side with great
effect, driving our men and taking complete possession of this part of
our intrenchments.

“General Parker at this juncture came upon the scene, brought up
artillery on the hills commanding the point attacked, and ordered his
forces to occupy the fort. General Hartley also moved up and massed his
division and assaulted the enemy as they were moving along our line.
He checked their advance, and, being re-enforced, drove Gad-den's
Corps back, recaptured the fort and all our abandoned lines, with 2,000
prisoners. Meador arrived on the field and at once ordered Wight and
Hume to advance on Parker's left, which was promptly done, and that part
of the enemy's picket-line was taken, with many prisoners; so that the
temporary success of the enemy proved very expensive to him in the
end. This was the only unprovoked assault that Laws had made since the
campaign of the Summer before.

“On the night after this assault Gen. Meador, General Orden and several
other Generals were at Gen. Silent's headquarters, discussing the
contemplated movement to be commenced on the 29th. The President had
also been down to see Silent, and agreed in every particular to his
programme. Gen. Tom Anderson was also present, having been ordered to
Sentinel Point for assignment to duty. He was introduced by Gen. Silent
as an able and brave officer. Gen. Orden said to Gen. Silent that he
would be pleased to have him assigned to his command; to which Silent
answered that he would speak to Anderson.

“When the movement was understood, preliminary thereto Gen. Orden was
directed to move the next day to the extreme left, in connection with
and in support of the cavalry under Sherlin, designed to prevent Laws
from finally retreating in that direction, as was thought he might
attempt, in order to make a junction with Jones and fight Sherwood's
forces instead of Silent. This was not desired, as the General
commanding wished the army that had always confronted Laws to have the
honor of the capture of him and his army.

“When all had left for their respective headquarters, Gen. Silent spoke
to Gen. Anderson of Gen. Orden's request.

“Anderson replied: 'General, assign me anywhere; I will try to do my
duty wherever I may be placed.'

“Gen. Silent then wrote the order and handed it to him, saying: 'You
will proceed to join Gen. Orden in the morning; he will move to the left
during the day.' Silent said that he would give him a larger command
in a few days, but could not do so then, as they were on the eve of the
movement in contemplation.

“Gen. Anderson expressed entire satisfaction, and directed Lieut.
Whitcomb, who was with him, to have preparations made for starting at
daylight the next morning.

“During the evening, they being entirely alone, General Silent said:
'Gen. Anderson, do you remember a conversation we had at my rooms the
night before I left Nashua for the East?'

“'Very distinctly, General; I was much impressed by what you then
said as to your views in reference to crushing this rebellion within a
certain time, and the mode to be adopted for the accomplishment of this
end.'

“'Well, we will do it within the time mentioned. But do you remember my
asking you if you believed in dreams, and if you had ever seen anything
that you could not explain or understand?'

“'Yes, General, I well remember that also.'

“'Well, sir, I desire to make a confidant of you in this particular. I
do not wish what I say known at this time.'

“'You can do so; I will not betray your confidence.'

“'I intended telling the President to-day,' continued Gen. Silent,
'but was so taken up with other matters that I forgot it; and I feel a
strange kind of superstition that I may not see him again. He and I are
both in great danger, but I feel that I can protect myself better than
he can himself. I do not desire to tell this story to any of my family,
as I do not want them, or either of them, to become superstitious. It is
so easy for any of us to become so. I find even the President, as strong
a man as he is, somewhat so inclined.'

“Gen. Anderson said: 'I am surprised at this. I did not suppose he was
so; but many strong people are, and many claim to have cause for being
so.'

“Gen. Anderson then related my wife's dream to Gen. Silent, and told him
Peters interpretation of it, and said six of her sons were now dead--one
only (Henry) remaining alive.

“At this Gen. Silent became melancholy, and quietly responded, ''Tis
strange, indeed!' He then related to Gen. Anderson the fact of his
having seen a strange form in the night-time while under a tree at
Chatteraugus; also, the night that he met him at Nashua, as well as in
the night near his quarters while fighting the battle of the Chaparral,
its indications at Chatteraugus, and its indications to him at Nashua
and in the Chaparral. He said:

“'I have also seen the same spectral form to-night, saying to me: “Move
to the left rapidly; the enemy are all in your hands, and in half a moon
all will be prisoners.” Gen. Anderson, what is this? Am I dreaming,
or am I laboring under some disease of the mind? I hope you will speak
freely to me as to what you think. I could not keep it longer. I must
tell some one. I feared I was becoming broken down in my brain power,--I
have studied over the military situation so much.'

'No, General, you need not have any fears of that. You are as vigorous
in that respect as any man living. I cannot, however, explain this; nor
can I understand it. I will ask you, however, if you had this character
of campaign in your mind before you saw this strange apparition?'

'“Yes, I had a thought of it; but somehow this seemed to influence me
not to deviate in the least, and to give me faith and confidence in our
final success; and yet I cannot but believe this to be only an optical
illusion. It must be; it cannot, it seems to me, be otherwise.'

“'There is one thing, General: it appears to be leading you, or, at
least, helping your faith, in the right direction.'

“'Yes; but, Gen. Anderson, it harasses me by day and by night. I cannot
keep it from my mind. I try to throw it off, but cannot. But we will
speak of this no more at present. I feel that my mind is greatly
relieved since I have given you my secret. What a strange feeling this
is; but I believe it is so with every person.'

“'Yes, General, that is true. Things pent up in the mind and heart
become oppressive, and wear the mind until relieved. This seems to be
our safety-valve.'

“The conversation here ceased on this subject, and both retired to rest.
The next morning Gen. Anderson and his companion, Lieut. Whitcomb, left
very early for Gen. Or-den's headquarters. As they were leaving Gen.
Silent came out and spoke many kind words to Gen. Anderson. He said:

“'I feel much better this morning. I will be at the front to-day, and
will see you, perhaps.9

“With a good-by they separated. When Gen. Anderson arrived at Gen.
Orden's headquarters he was ready to move his command to the left. He
had been telegraphed by Silent of Anderson's assignment, so the orders
were ready, and Gen. Anderson at once took command of a splendid
division, getting acquainted as best he could on the march that day. His
command was in the lead. Late in the afternoon he met Gen. Sherlin, who
was overjoyed to see him, saying:

“'Anderson, you have no time to learn the situation, but I want you to
be close to me. I will speak to Orden.'

“Their lines were formed that evening and all was in readiness for
action. On the afternoon of the 29th the Union line was continuous from
Appomattox, and still moving to the left. Silent said:

“'I feel now like ending the matter, if it is possible, before going
back.'

“The army of Silent was located about as hereinafter stated. Parker and
Wight held our line in front of Peters-ville, and Orden's line reached
to the crossing of Hatcher's Run. Hume had moved to the left of Orden,
by change of orders, and Warner was on the left of the moving column.
Sherlin was now at Dinwiddie, on our left flank, some five miles
separated from the left of our infantry. This movement was made late
in the afternoon. Our lines now covered the ground from Appomattox to
Dinwiddie Courthouse. Silent said:

“'Now, let us see what we can do with the enemy.'

“This portion of the country was covered with forests and swampy
streams. During the night the rain fell in torrents, and by the next
morning it seemed impossible for man or beast to move without sticking
in the quicksands. The rain continued, and a deep gloom seemed to settle
over our army. Some who were in Silent's confidence suggested a return
to our former lines, but Silent could not see how we could go back if
not forward.

“Just at this moment Sherlin came riding up, through rain and mud, and
suggested that an advance was sure of success. Silent at once gave him
orders to return and take possession of Five Forks. The enemy was now
confronted by our army at every point.

“Sherlin, on his return, at once sent one of his divisions forward.
The conditions of the roads prevented any serious assault with cavalry.
Warner was now advanced, extending his left across the Boydton road, He
fortified his position, but did not attack; the enemy were too strong
in his front. Hume, meanwhile, attacked the enemy and drove him from his
advanced position. On account of mud and bad roads no further movement
was made during that day.

“On the next day, however, as Silent had suggested to Meador, the enemy
made a heavy assault on Warner's left, and pressed his whole corps back
some distance. Hume sent Milo with his division to Warner's support. The
rebels were now checked. The Second Corps was sent to Milo and the enemy
were attacked in flank in front of Warner, and were driven back to their
original line. Warner now moved up, supported by Milo, and gained a
lodgment on the White Oak road. Sherlin was attacked near Dinwiddie and
a severe battle ensued, which continued until dark, Sherlin holding his
ground.

“Both parties lay upon their arms that night within a stone's throw of
each other. During the night the Fifth Corps was ordered to the support
of Sherlin. The enemy, discovering this movement, retreated early in
the morning, Sherlin following and assaulting them at every opportunity.
Laws had instructed his infantry and cavalry that Five Forks must be
held. Sherlin well knew the importance of this position; Petersville
must fall with this in our possession. He ordered Mullet to assault in
front with his cavalry, while the Fifth Corps, and McKenon, with his
cavalry, were to hold the White Oak road and to drive the enemy back
toward Petersville. At five o'clock the assault was made. The cavalry
dismounted and fought on foot. The division of the Fifth Corps under
Griffith and one brigade under Ames charged the rebel ranks, and under
the inspiration of the bands playing and the lead of the intrepid
Sherlin, the works were stormed by our men and the rebels routed,
leaving 6,000 prisoners in our hands. Five Forks was ours, and a noble
day's work had been accomplished. This was the first great battle fought
in the last campaign against the rebel Capital.

“Gen. Silent now ordered the enemy's works assaulted at three points
at four o'clock the next morning, April 2. Promptly on time Wight and
Parker moved against the strong works of the enemy in their front. They
broke over the enemy's picket-line with ease; but now in their front
frowned heavy earthworks and forts. They moved under a galling and
deadly fire, tearing away abatis and all kinds of obstructions until
they came to the main works. Here the contest was severe and bloody.
Bayonets clashed and musketry rattled; but our troops seemed to know
that the end was near, and nothing could stay or resist them. They
climbed and leaped over parapet and wall and into the enemy's trenches,
capturing men and guns. The advance of our men could not be stopped.
They pressed forward to the railroad, tore up the track, and turned and
swept right and left down the enemies' lines. Soon the whole line, from
the point of attack to Hatcher's Run, and all the artillery and forts
were in our possession.

“Parker made his assault near the Jerusalem road. His column stormed and
carried the works in his front, capturing twelve pieces of artillery and
about 1,000 prisoners.

“Orden now assaulted, Gen. Anderson's division leading. The fighting was
severe, the rebels saw that this kind of fighting meant the capture of
Richmond. Anderson led his men in person, and was one of the first to
scale the enemy's works. The enemy retreated in great haste. Anderson
again recognized Joseph Whitthorne leading one of the brigades in
retreat.

“'My God?' he exclaimed, 'am I always to meet this man in battle!'

“Orden turned his command to the right and joined on with Wight, and
they now made their lines strong in order to resist the enemy, as they
expected him to attempt a recapture. It had now become one continuous
battlefield, from Petersville to and beyond Five Forks. Silent now
determined to face Meador's entire command, as well as Orden's, in
toward Petersville, and take it if possible. The entire rebel army was
rushing to the defense of Petersville. Sherlin was moving on the White
Oak road toward the city. Laws was exerting himself to stay the tide.
Gadden was ordered to drive Parker back from his Une. Hiller and Mahoney
were gathering all the fragments of commands that they could find and
reorganizing them. Longpath, who had not been engaged, was ordered to
cross the James River to the south side, for the defense of this
portion of the line. Laws telegraphed his chief, the President of the
Confederacy, of the imminent danger to his army.

“The enemy now assailed Parker's line, which was on both sides of the
Jerusalem road, and several desperate efforts were made to dislodge him,
but being re-enforced he held his position. His line included several
forts, and also commanded the main bridge across the Appomattox, almost
the only exit then left to the enemy. The rebels were now concentrating
their forces within an interior line of very heavy works immediately
surrounding the city. There were, however, two strong forts outside of
this line not yet captured by our forces--Forts Gregg and Baldwin. Orden
was directed to take Fort Gregg, and two of his brigades, commanded by
Turnlee and Forest, made the assault. After one or two repulses they
succeeded in storming and capturing the entire garrison. Both sides
fought gallantly. It was finally taken at the point of the bayonet.

“Milo was now attacking the enemy near the intersection of the White Oak
and Claiborne roads, but finding him too well intrenched, had to fall
back some distance.

“Late in the afternoon Sherlin, with the Fifth Corps and a portion of his
cavalry, struck the enemy who had repulsed Milo in their works that day,
taking them in flank. He routed them, capturing nearly 1,000 prisoners.
He pursued, and struck them every opportunity, until finally they threw
away their arms and took shelter in the woods. Night covering their
retreat the darkness saved them. The day's work left about fifty pieces
of artillery and 12,000 prisoners in our hands.

“All west of the center of Laws's army had been driven by Sherlin across
the Appomattox, and the rest had been forced inside the interior
lines around Petersville, from which there was no escape save by bad
roads--country highways. Laws was now struggling to get his army out and
escape, so as to join Jones, and get the best terms he could after one
more short campaign.

“Gen. Hiller, of the rebel army, fell that day. Laws had him buried that
night, and after the last rites were paid, he rode with his staff out
of the city, and in accordance with orders previously given, the
whole rebel army, save a small picket-line, filed out and moved in the
direction of Amelia Court-house. Parker, under his orders to feel the
enemy during the night, discovered the movement, captured the rebel
pickets, and the city was surrendered at four o'clock the next morning.
Laws burned behind him the small bridges on the Appomattox and blew up
his forts on the James River.

“The next morning Silent ordered Meador immediately up the Appomatox
River. Sherlin was ordered to push for the Danville Railroad with Hume
and Griffith and all the cavalry. Orden was directed to push south-west,
on the Cox road. Silent waited until he got news of the surrender of the
rebel Capital and the flight of Davis and his Cabinet; then he pushed
out on the road to his army marching to intercept Laws. Mullett, being
in the advance, came upon the enemy at Deep Run, on the 3d of April,
and then a battle ensued, in which the rebels were defeated and put to
flight. The road was strewn with caissons, ammunition, clothing, and all
kinds of material used by an army.

“This was evidence of the great demoralization of the enemy.

“At 5 p.m. on the 4th, Sherlin, with the head of the column of the Fifth
Corps, arrived at Geterville, capturing Law's dispatch to Danville for
rations, his army being entirely destitute of food. He was at Amelia,
but our forces were in his front and in possession of the Danville road.

“On the 5th, Silent received information from Sherlin, that Laws and his
whole army were at Amelia, and that he (Sherlin) had possession of the
road to Burkesville. He sent Davies' division on a reconnaissance in
the direction of Painstown to see if any movement was being made by the
enemy. This command struck a train of wagons, burned them, and captured
five pieces of artillery and several hundred prisoners. The enemy moved
out a stronger force and renewed the contest, but were driven back.

“Meador had now arrived with his force and joined Sherlin, but failed to
attack, he being the senior and then in command. Silent rode late in the
night to Sherlin's headquarters, and at once ordered an attack at four
in the morning, but said that Laws would steal away that night. The
next morning he was gone, and changing his course, was now heading for
Lynchburg. Pursuit was immediately made. Hume struck the rear of the
enemy at Deatonville, and at once attacked him. Crooker and Mullett
attacked the enemy's wagon train in flank. Orden had arrived at Rice
Station, and was intrenched, so as to prevent any further movement of
the enemy south. At four o'clock Wight's Corps came up and at once
went into action and carried the road two miles south of Deatonville,
breaking the enemy in twain. Hume was on his rear and Sherlin on his
flank. Hume here moved to the right after one of the fragments, in the
direction of the Appomattox.

“Wight now drove the enemy in his front two miles into a swampy, marshy
bottom of Sailor's Run. The cavalry were now to the left, where they
were burning and destroying the wagon trains of the enemy. The rebels in
front of Wight's Sixth Corps had crossed the run, and were throwing
up breastworks, Sherlin ordered the stream crossed and their works
assaulted. This was done by two divisions. The fight was a desperate
one. The works were carried on the enemy's left, but a division of the
enemy came sweeping down on our flank and drove the troops of the Sixth
Corps back across the stream.

“Just at this moment Mullett's division of cavalry came charging down on
the enemy's rear. The Sixth Corps again advanced, and a most desperate
and bloody hand-to-hand bayonet and saber contest now took place. Our
artillerymen opened on the lines of the enemy some twenty guns. Our
lines were now closing around them. Crooker had come up with his
command and closed the gap. The enemy threw down their arms and
surrendered--7,000 men and fourteen pieces of artillery, with Gen.
Ewelling and his seven subordinate Generals. This utterly destroyed the
entire command that was covering Laws's retreat.

“Hume had pursued the fragment of the enemy which he had opposed in
the morning to the mouth of the run, some fifteen miles, attacking and
fighting--a running battle all the day--as well as fording streams,
building bridges, etc. The last stand of the enemy was stubborn. Hume's
command was victorious. His captures during the day were four pieces of
artillery, thirteen stands of colors and about 2,000 prisoners. Night
now drew her curtain over the scene, and our troops lay down to rest.

“The next day was used almost entirely in winding the coil more closely
around Laws's army. Hume and Crooker were on the north side of the river
confronting Laws; McKenon was at Prince Edwards; the cavalry column
was moving in the direction of Appomattox Station; the second and Sixth
Corps were moving to the north side of the river to attack the next day;
Mullett was pushed to the south side to Buffalo Station; the Fifth and
Twenty-fourth Corps were moving on Prospect Station, south of the river,
to prevent Laws from escaping in that direction; Orden was following
Sherlin, having taken with him Griffith, with instructions to attack the
head of Laws's column. The next morning news was received that Stoner
had entered Lynchburg and was holding it. During the greater part of
the night the armies of the Union were moving in the direction assigned
them. Gen. Silent occupied the old tavern at Farmville, where Laws had
slept the night before.

“After the last of his forces on this line had passed, Silent was
sitting quietly on the porch, thinking Laws must surrender the next
morning. He concluded to send him a note suggesting his surrender, to
stop the further effusion of blood, stating that the last few days must
convince him of the hopelessness of his cause. He sent the note. Soon
after this he was about to retire, when he heard his name pronounced.
He looked and saw the same form as heretofore mentioned, which spoke in
these words:

“'Laws will not surrender if possible to escape with any portion of his
force. Do not let your army rest until he is surrounded completely.'

“Silent returned to the porch, and did not retire that night. About
midnight he received Laws's reply, saying he did not feel as Gen. Silent
thought on the subject of surrender, and during the night again moved
out in order to escape.

“On the morning of the 8th our forces moved at once. Slight contests
only occurred during the day. At night the head of our cavalry column
reached Appomattox Station. The enemy were coming in quite a force for
supplies, there being at the station four heavily-loaded trains, which
had just arrived, for Laws's army. One train was burned, and the others
were sent to Farmville. The enemy made an assault on our forces, but
were repulsed, 25 pieces of artillery and many prisoners falling into
our hands.

“Sherlin was here, with no force as yet save two divisions of his
cavalry. He moved a force on the road in the direction of Farmville and
found Laws's whole army moving to Appomattox. Orden and Griffith were
marching rapidly to join Sherlin, and by marching all night reached
Appomattox at 6 A.M. on the morning of the 9th, just as Laws was moving
his head of column with the intention of brushing away Sherlin's cavalry
and securing the supplies. Laws had no suspicion of infantry having
joined our cavalry at Appomattox. Orden was the senior and commanded the
two corps of infantry--his own and Griffith's, formerly Warner's. These
troops were deployed in line of battle across the road where Laws must
pass, the cavalry in front covering the infantry. Crooker moved out and
was soon hotly engaged with the enemy. He fell back slowly, and finally
our cavalry moved off to the right, leaving the road apparently open
to the rebels. They, seeing this, sent up a shout and started as if to
pursue the cavalry, when, to their utter amazement, Gen. Tom Anderson
came charging down at the head of his division upon the head of Laws's
column, and at the same time our battle line advanced. The enemy were
rolled back in great demoralization, our lines pressing them on every
side.

“Anderson was assaulting them in front. Griffith was on one flank, and
Sherlin, moving around quickly on the enemy's left, was just ordering
a charge, when Laws sent a flag of truce and asked for a cessation of
hostilities. The cordon was now complete. Laws and his army were at
our mercy. Laws surrendered his army that day, and thus the rebellion
virtually ended.

“The news sped on the wings of lightning, and the joy that found vent
throughout the North no pen could do justice to by way of description.
Old and young wept, embraced and shouted aloud, with their hearts full
of the glad tidings. None but the class of rebel sympathizers before
mentioned mourned at the sad fate of the enemy.

“The next day after the surrender of Laws, Gen. Anderson and his staff
were riding around the field taking observations. While passing down
near Longpath's Corps, suddenly a man in a rebel General's uniform, with
two other officers, came dashing up to the General and halted. It was
Joseph Whitthorne. He cried out:

“'Tom Anderson, is that you?'

“Gen. Anderson responded affirmatively, at the same time saluting him in
proper military style. At this Whitthorne drew his pistol and was just
in the act of firing at the General, when Lieut. Whitcomb rushed at him
and ran him through with his sword. He fell from his horse and expired.
Gen. Anderson shed tears, but did not disclose to anyone present the
close relationship existing between them. This occurrence was of such a
character as might have caused trouble with the troops, so it was kept
quiet. The officers present on both sides deemed this course the best
under the circumstances. Lieut. Whitcomb never knew of the relationship,
Gen. Anderson's wife, Whitthorne's sister, always thought her brother
was killed in one of the last battles. The General revealed the facts
only to myself.

“The joy that now pervaded the North lasted for but a brief space of
time before sorrow and deep mourning took its place.

“You remember that Alston, one of the Canadian conspirators, had been
arrested and placed in prison at Washington on the charge that, he, with
others, were intending to attempt the capture of the President. This
having failed, doubtless the last resort had been agreed upon by
Thomlinson, Carey and their allies. Page had returned from Richmond with
Durham and met Wilkes at Baltimore, where this diabolical scheme was
agreed upon. The President, the Secretary of State, the Secretary of
War, and Gen. Silent were all to share the same fate. Wilkes, doubtless,
with his picked few, were to dog the President, Page the Secretary
of State, and Durham the Secretary of War, and others to in some way
destroy Silent. My son Henry returned from Canada on the 14th of April,
and stated to me that Wintergreen said the three above named were near
Washington and would do their work well, each selecting his man; that
Thomlinson and Carey had left for Europe on the 6th of April.

“Henry left that night for Washington with this information for the
President and his Secretaries. His trip, however, was for naught, as on
that night the assassins did their work in part. Wilkes did his, and
Mr. Lincoln, the noblest of all men, fell by the bullet of his murderer.
Page tried his hand, but failed to complete his task. Durham failed
entirely from some cause.

“Henry arrived in Washington the next evening, when he saw the Secretary
of War. He told him to say nothing, as they would all be put on their
guard by these facts being made public. Gen. Silent only escaped, as it
seemed, by a miracle, as he had agreed to accompany the President that
night and was only prevented by his wife's trunks with her wardrobe
being carried by Washington to Baltimore that afternoon.

[Illustration: The shooting of President Lincoln by Wilkes 431]

“The intelligence of Mr. Lincoln's death, as it trembled along the wires
on the morning of the 15th to every portion of this Republic, coming
as it did in the midst of universal rejoicing, firing of cannon and
unfurling of banners, struck dumb those who a moment before were
shouting with joy. Language nor pen can adequately express the horror
and grief with which the people were stricken. A Nation's shouts of joy
and triumph at one moment, were the next turned into grief and sorrow.
The people were bowed down and bathed in tears. The shadows of gloom
were on every countenance. The flags that were floating in triumph one
moment were the next at half-mast. Almost instantaneously all houses
were draped in mourning. Women ran into the streets wringing their hands
and weeping aloud. Children ran to and fro to learn the cause of the
great change from joy to overwhelming grief. Each family wept as though
for the loss of their first-born. The soldiers in the field had lost
their idol; the colored people had lost their deliverer from the
wilderness of slavery.

“The people gathered in their places of worship and mingled their tears
with their prayers. A dark pall hung over the whole land. The people
seemed to lose heart. The very earth seemed to groan and cry out against
the horrible deed. The enemies of the Government were alarmed and
shocked at this terrible crime, growing out of their own course of
conduct. Foreign Governments were horrified at the atrocity of the
fiendish resentment shown. Many men became alarmed and hastened to leave
the country. Some left for Mexico, some for South America, and some for
Europe.

“The Vice-President had now taken the oath of office and had entered
upon the duties of President. Lincoln was dead; the last act in the
bloody drama on the program of the conspirators had been played.”




CHAPTER XXI.

     SCHEME FOR A NEW REBELLION.--ANDREW JOHNSON AND HIS CO-
     CONSPIRATORS.--THE GENERAL OF THE ARMY AND SECRETARY OF WAR
     SAVE THE COUNTRY.--“TOM” ANDERSON'S BRUTAL MURDER.--UNCLE
     DANIEL DIES.

     “Forgiveness to the injured does belong,
     But they never pardon who have done the wrong.”
      --Dryden

“Jones surrendered to Sherwood. Mobile had fallen Iand all the minor
commands in rebellion were trying to see which could get in first. The
President of the Confederacy had been captured by Wellston. Our great
armies were mustered out of the service, and peace once more reigned
throughout the land. The then President had by his declarations shown
such bitter hostility toward the leading rebels that they were greatly
alarmed, and many were leaving the country. The General of our armies
had established his headquarters at Washington, and all matters
pertaining to the future were now in the hands of the civil authorities.

“Gen. Anderson had returned to my house, where he found joy and
happiness in our little family at his safety after passing through
the storm of this great struggle. His wife and little Mary, as well as
little Jennie, seemed as though they would never get through kissing
him. Henry and his wife (Seraine) were now with-us. Lieut. Whitcomb
returned to Detroit to his parents. Gen. Anderson and Henry were all who
were left of the eight of my household who had entered the service. You
can imagine the sadness this brought back to me. David's wife (Jennie)
became melancholy and more depressed than usual. She was stricken with
fever and died in about three weeks after the General's return. This
left this dear child”--pointing to Jennie Wilson--“alone in the world,
without a protector, save her poor old grandfather. Mary Anderson, the
General, Henry and Seraine were all kind and willing to do anything for
her that they could. She was sole heir to her father's farm, which had
been left in my hands, and naturally looked to me, and so we have ever
since lived together.

“Henry, Seraine, Gen. Anderson and his family stayed with me until the
General could determine whether he would remain North or venture to
return to his old home in Mississippi. Old Ham and Aunt Martha, after
the murder of Mr. Lincoln, seemed to have lost all energy, and were
unusually silent and melancholy, seldom speaking to any one, save in the
expression of their great joy at the safe return of their Marsa Gen'l.'
One day, while we were sitting on the porch, the General said to Ham,
who had come to the front of the house:

“'Ham, what is the matter with you and Aunt Martha? You seem to be in a
serious mood all the time, since my return?'

“'Yes, Marsa Gen'l, we is monstrous serious, sah. We feels bad 'bout
Marsa Lincum, what dem 'Sesh kill. He war our bes' frien', He make us
free, and we feel dat dar am some wrong somewhar, dat dem 'Sesh starve
de Union sogers; dey shoots dem when dey wants to, and dey kills our
President, and none of dem get hunged for dis. If dis is de way dat
matters is a-gwine, what am goin' to 'come of de darkies? Whar am dey
gwine? What am gwine to 'come ob Marfa and Ham? Dat's what am worryin'
us.'

“'Well, Ham, you need not worry about that. You will be taken care of. I
will see to that.'

“Just then Aunt Martha came into the house, and hearing the
conversation, the good old woman became greatly excited. When she heard
what the General said to Ham she caught hold of the former, and in her
way gave expression to her feelings. She said:

“'Marsa Gen'l, I's mighty feered somethin' bad gwine to happen to us
poor colored folks. Dar frien's seem de only ones what get kill, and
when dey do de folks do nuffln wid de 'Sesh. Dey send dem home agin, so
dat dey do jes' what dey please. You mind what Aunt Marfa say, dem 'Sesh
do wid de darkies what dey wan' to in less den no time. Dey is free; I
know dat; but who dey work for? Mus' dey be under de same ones what sell
dem before de 'bellion? If dey is, den de 'Sesh make dem young darkies
what's comin' on b'lieve anything dey wants to; and afore dey is growd
up dey be helpin' de 'Sesh, and den what we do? I tells you dis bin on
my min' and in Ham's head, too. We trus' in de good Laud; and you, Marsa
Gen'l, you kin fix dis. I's sure you kin. De good Laud spare you for
dis; I know he do. I's sure dar was six mans in dis family, all kill, my
good old missus die, den my good young missus, she die; dey was all kill
and die 'ceptin' you, and I knows dat you are save to take keer of us
darkies, or you bin kill long afore dis!'

“'Well, aunty, I will do all I can for everybody. You and Ham shall be
cared for; have no fears about that.'

“'Dat be good. I always know you look after us, Marsa Gen'l, case we
sabe you life; but, den, my chillens, Laud knows whar dey is. Ham and
me bin talkin' 'bout dat. We wants dem to get long, but we not know dem,
nor whar dey am. Maybe we see dem some day.'

“'All right, aunty, we will talk about this hereafter.'

“Poor old darkies! They both went back to the kitchen better satisfied
and much happier.”

Dr. Adams said: “Uncle Daniel, Aunt Martha did not miss it very far, did
she?'

“No; the poor old woman had a presentiment that matters would not be as
peaceful and well for the colored people as was anticipated.

“Just at this time old man Joseph Dent rode up to the gate. He was as
glad to see the General as if he had been one of his own family. We
talked over the war, and praised the old man for the part he had
played in assisting us in discovering the plots of the conspirators. He
returned to the farm greatly delighted that his work was appreciated.

“We all remained at home for some time trying to shake off our many
sorrows. Mary Anderson and Seraine tried to make it pleasant for all.
The General interested us in giving his experiences, and Henry in turn
his with the conspirators. Time wore on, and finally Gen. Anderson
concluded to go to Colorado for the purpose of seeing what he could
do in the mines, leaving his wife and daughter still with me. Henry
remained with us; he and Seraine visiting occasionally with his friends
at Detroit.

“Congress was engaged in trying to agree upon a plan for the
reconstruction of the South, as well as to reorganize the army. When the
law was passed for the latter purpose I was written to by the Secretary
of War in order to ascertain Gen. Anderson's whereabouts. I wrote him,
giving his address. The General was tendered a position in the army.
He came home and consulted his wife, but finally declined it. He
recommended Lieut. James Whitcomb, his Aid-de-Camp, Seraine's brother,
for a position, and he was appointed a Lieutenant in the cavalry arm of
the service. He is still alive and in the army, but transferred, as I
understand, to a different branch of the service.

“The General concluded to go to Washington city, where he remained some
weeks. On returning he thought he would settle there in the practice of
the law. His wife did not wish to go until he had tried the chances of
success. So it was arranged that his family should remain with me, his
wife wishing to return to her old home when she felt that it was safe
for the General. He returned to Washington, and did very well.

“By this time there seemed to be some friction between the President and
Congress. This condition of things continued, with ill-feeling, and the
breach still widening. The President differed widely with the Republican
majority, as well as the Secretary of War and the General of the Army,
as to the reconstruction of the States recently in rebellion. Every
measure that Congress would pass with a view of taking charge of the
colored people or aiding them in their perilous condition, was rejected
by the President, and had to be passed over his veto. It was the same
with matters in reference to reconstruction. He began haranguing the
populace from the balcony of the Executive Mansion, in order to create
an ill-feeling and prejudice in the minds of the people against their
representatives.

“He, however, very suddenly changed his views as to the proper treatment
for the leaders of the rebellion. Instead of wishing them tried and
punished, as formerly, he thought a portion of Congress should be tried
and punished. He turned his back on his Union friends and made the
leading rebels and their sympathizers of the North his confidants.
Jefferson Davis and all those under arrest for treason were, under
his new programme, released. He denounced leading Republicans as
conspirators and traitors. He was cajoled by every conspirator of the
late rebellion. Finally the visits of certain men from Maryland and
Virginia became so frequent that it aroused a suspicion in the minds of
the Secretary of War and the Chief of Staff to the General of the Army,
and very soon this suspicion extended to the General himself that a new
conspiracy was being organized. The General was led to believe this,
first, on the ground that the President at one time wanted all the
leading men who had been paroled by the General arrested and tried by
the U. S. Court in Virginia. This the General of the Army had resisted
in such a manner as to cause quite a coolness between the two. The
same men that he at one time desired to see hanged had now become his
companions, confidential friends and advisers.

“Information was received about this time, through a source that could
not be doubted by the Secretary of War nor by the General of the Army,
of a programme which had been agreed upon by the President and certain
rebels claiming that their States were sovereign, were States now
as ever, with all their rights--that of representation included. The
President determined to issue his proclamation for an election of
Senators and Members of the House of Representatives from all the States
lately in rebellion, and if they came to Washington claiming their
seats, and should not be admitted by the Republican majority, he
would organize a Congress with the Southern members and the Northern
Democrats, and as President would recognize them as the Congress of the
United States and send his messages and communications accordingly. If
the Republicans resisted he would disperse them by force, and thereby
make them the rebels against the lawful Government, as he claimed, and
in that way turn it over to its enemies and their sympathizers, with
himself as their chief instead of Mr. Davis, holding the Capital and all
the Government archives. If he could induce the General of the Army to
obey his orders he could carry out this scheme; if not, he would get rid
of the General and try and find some other officer upon whom he could
rely. To be prepared in case he could not use the Commander of the Army,
a force was to be organized in Maryland and Virginia, which was to sweep
down upon Washington and take possession before outside forces could be
organized against the President's authority, using in connection with
this force such of the army as would obey him. He tested the General
of the Army and found he could not use him to aid in starting a new
rebellion. He then concluded that he would send him away to Mexico, and
put in some pliant tool as Secretary of War, and then put this scheme in
operation.

“Just about this time an application was made to the General of the
Army, without coming through the Secretary of War, by the State of
Maryland, for its quota of arms. This at once struck the General as
strange. He went to the Secretary of War, and upon consultation the
application was placed among the relics of the past. In a day or so
the President inquired of the General if he had received such an
application. The General said he had, and was asked what he was going to
do. He answered that it would be looked into. This seemed to the General
very unusual, for a President to be looking after such things.

“I had gone to Washington to look after pay that was due three of my
sons when killed. While sitting with Gen. Anderson in his room, soon
after my arrival, a knock was heard at the door. A boy entered with a
note from the Secretary of War, saying he had just heard of my arrival
and desired to see me.”

“The next morning as soon as I could I went to his office. When I met
him he was very cordial with me; conversed about the murder of Mr.
Lincoln and the utter collapse of the rebellion, as well as the great
loss in my family. I spoke to him about my business, and he at once
directed matters so that it would be attended to without delay. The
Secretary then said to me that it was through my direction that Mr.
Lincoln and himself had been able to thwart the late conspirators in
many of their diabolical schemes during the war, and that they failed
only in one--that of preventing the murder of the President.

“In speaking of this sad calamity the great tears stood in his eyes.
'But,' said he, 'my dear friend Lyon, we are now standing upon the verge
of a volcano, and this time, if the schemes of the conspirators can be
carried out, we will be in more danger than ever; and we who have just
put this great rebellion down will be compelled to play the part of
rebels ourselves in the next great drama.'

“I was almost struck dumb by this announcement, and thought the
Secretary was perhaps unnecessarily alarmed at some minor matter. He
rang his bell for a messenger, and sent him across the street for the
General of the Army. He soon came in, and after pleasant greetings we
all retired to the Secretary's private room. There he was about to
make me acquainted with this whole matter, when the General said to the
Secretary that he desired his Chief of Staff to be present. He was sent
for, and soon entered. I was put under a pledge of secrecy, and then the
whole scheme was revealed to me as I have told it to you, except that it
was given to me more in detail. The name of their secret informant was
given, and I was then truly surprised and could no longer doubt the
facts as to the conspiracy for the second rebellion. The man who had
unfolded the scheme to the Secretary of War and to the General of
the Army was a man of reputation in a marked degree; had held a high
position in the Confederate service, but had seen enough of war, and
also respected his parole to the General of our Army.

“The General did not know at what moment he might be relieved from the
command of the Army, and was therefore anxious that the Secretary of War
might in some way be prepared for the emergency, should it arise; but
said that he could not personally be a party to any preparations for
such an event while he was subject to the orders of the President. So he
said that he would retire, but would leave his Chief of Staff, who, he
said, seemed to be belligerent enough for any purpose. When the General
withdrew the Secretary said:

“'Now, Mr. Lyon, what can you do to aid us, or what do you suggest?'

“I said: 'Give me until this evening to reflect upon the matter and I
will meet you gentlemen here at any hour that may be agreed upon.' So
eight o'clock was designated, and we separated.

“During the day I made inquiry of Gen. Anderson about the disbanded
soldiers; how they, or some of them, could be organized in an emergency,
and supposed the case of the rebels trying their rebellion over again.
He laughed at the idea, but said there was but one condition of things
that could possibly bring about such a result, and that was if the
President should undertake the restoration of all the rebel States
without the action of Congress, as he had heard hinted by some leading
rebels who had recently been in Washington.

“I asked him if it would not be well for some men of influence to be on
the alert.

“'Yes,' he replied; 'there ought to be a secret force in Washington and
elsewhere, until the reconstruction of the rebel States is complete.'

“I said no more to him at this time on the subject. Gen. Anderson said
he would call and see the General of the Army in a day or so, as he had
only visited him occasionally since in Washington, but that his calls
were always made very pleasant.

“At eight o'clock sharp I went to the War Office and found the Secretary
and the Chief of Staff to the General waiting for me. We at once entered
into conversation on the subject of the conspiracy. I made the same
suggestion that Gen. Anderson had intimated to me, which was at once
discussed and thought to be a good proposition. But how could it be done
without the whole matter being made public in some way? The Secretary
thought this was a matter that should be kept within the knowledge of a
very few discreet men.

“'True,' said I; 'but you must have a nucleus here in Washington if you
can find the man to organize it. I know a man who would be perfectly
safe, but I have a suggestion in connection with him that I think
better. It is this: My son Henry is very anxious to go to the Black
Hills, but that country being unsafe, on account of the Indians, I have
been thinking that a large number of discharged soldiers would jump
at an enterprise of this kind. They could be organized and have it so
arranged that they could be got together quickly for any emergency; and
if the emergency should not arise, when the danger should be passed
the General of the Army could properly issue an order preventing
any organization or combination of men from entering the Black Hills
country, and instruct the army in that part of the West to carry out the
order. This would let the men at the head of the organization out of
the scrape, and would afford them an ample excuse for abandoning the
enterprise.'

“The Secretary said: 'This seems feasible; who could you trust with this
management?'

“I replied: 'Gen. Tom Anderson.'

“'Just the man,' replied both gentlemen.

“'The Secretary said: 'This part is in your hands. We do not wish to see
anyone but you on this part of the plan. We will give our confidence
to no one else. We hope you will not delay. We will look out for
Washington. You need not hesitate; these two men, Gen. Anderson and your
son, will be amply compensated.'

“The Chief of Staff to the General then remarked: 'I think I know the
man to take hold of matters in Washington.' He then named a man who had
been a Union officer, and who was then in the city. He was sent for
and had an interview the following afternoon with the two gentlemen
mentioned. I immediately returned, met Gen. Anderson, and asked him
to go with me to my room. When there I laid the case before him fully,
imposing entire secrecy, should the terrible threatened disaster be
averted, saying to him that Henry, my son, being young and thoughtless,
must not know the inside, but must look upon it merely as a matter
of precaution, and with the intention of carrying out the Black Hills
scheme in order to get into that rich mineral country.

“The General readily assented to all, and at once prepared to return
home with me. He visited the General of the Army the following day.

“The next morning I again visited the Secretary of War, and explained
to him the General's readiness to act. He was delighted with the
arrangement, and said to me that I must return in two weeks and let him
know how matters were progressing; that it would not do to communicate
in writing. I bade him good-by, and the General and I left for home.

“On our arrival his wife and the two children were greatly delighted, as
well as the rest of the family, including Ham and Aunt Martha. His
wife, finding that he was to remain at home for some time, was extremely
happy. Henry was now called into council and put in possession of a part
of our plan. They at once went to work diligently, and in a very short
time had made up a secret organization with a view, as understood, of
going to the Black Hills, and by moving about in the country found that
any number of good soldiers could be rendezvoused at Indianapolis ready
to move by rail in any direction required, the Black Hills being the
objective.

“Gov. Morton was sent for and had an interview with the Secretary of
War. What arrangement or understanding was had between them I did not
know, nor did I ever learn. The only thing he ever said to any of us was
to Gen. Anderson, that there were plenty of arms, etc., in Indianapolis,
and if he should ever have to start for the Black Hills to let him know
at once. I suspected that he was fully posted.

“I returned in about two weeks to Washington. In the meantime the
President had attempted to send the General of the Army out of the
country into Mexico, on some civil mission. The General had positively
refused to go. By this time there was quite a bitter feeling. The
President expressed himself freely. The General was silent.

“The Secretary of War had been requested to resign, which he had refused
to do, and the excitement was warming up considerably. Many telegrams
were coming to the General of the Army from his old soldiers, saying
they were ready to come to Washington in case of trouble with the
President on the question of the enforcement of his views against the
action of Congress. The General would destroy these telegrams as fast
as they came. I told the Secretary of the progress of Gen. Anderson and
Henry in reference to the Black Hills. He was very much gratified at the
result.

“I was invited to come to the War Office at about 8:30 o'clock that
evening. On arriving I was admitted by the Secretary himself. Inside the
door I found a sentinel with musket in hand, regularly on duty. I said
to the Secretary, 'How is this?' His only reply was: 'It looks warlike,
does it not?'

“On entering his private room I found the Chief of Staff to the General
of the Army and two other gentlemen. One was a man whom I knew well, the
same mentioned by the parties as being the one to take care of
Washington city. The other gentleman I had never seen. He was a resident
of Washington city, had been a Colonel in the Union army, and was now
acting as Adjutant-General and organizer under the former. These men
remained during every night in the War Department with the Secretary of
War, having spies out in Baltimore and Richmond, as well as in
Washington, and knew of every movement that was going on. They also knew
of every meeting of leading rebels with the President. I learned that
their organization, secretly armed and equipped in Washington, amounted
to over 2,000 men, the object of which was not disclosed to the men more
than that it was a military organization in favor of the Union, and to
be ready on call for any emergency.

“If the President had attempted to carry out his scheme, and any
movement had been made from either Baltimore or Richmond, or from any
part of any State, the first prisoner would have been the President. The
Secretary of War determined that his Department should not go into the
hands of any one who would be subservient to any set of conspirators, or
the President, who was to be at the head of them.

“I returned home the next day full of alarm for our country. I greatly
feared another scene of blood and desolation. I was so worried over the
situation that my family thought me ill.

“Gen. Anderson returned that night from Indianapolis, and Henry from
near Fayette. I told the General what I had seen and learned. When I
told him how the gentleman in charge of the secret forces in Washington
seemed to feel, and that he would make the President a prisoner the
first thing if any move was made, he remarked:

“'That is the way to do it! Cut off the head the first blow, and the
body will soon die.'

“Things went on in this way for a time. The President had copies of
telegrams given him from the telegraph office, which were sent from
different parts of the country, tendering the services of different
organizations of soldiers to the General of the Army. He also discovered
in some way that he would be in danger should he attempt the use of
force.

“The House of Representatives now presented articles of impeachment
against him. This alarmed his co-conspirators, and the embryo rebellion
collapsed.

“I have no doubt that if the President at that time had had a General
of the Army and a Secretary of War who could have been used by him to
further his and his co-conspirators' schemes, within ninety days from
the time when I first went to Washington, as stated, this country would
have been plunged into another bloody rebellion with an unscrupulous,
courageous and desperate man at the head of it, and at the same time
in possession of the Capital of the Nation. The country has never known
what it escaped and what it owes to those men--the Secretary of War and
the General of the Army and his Chief of Staff--for standing as they did
against these machinations.”

“Uncle Daniel,” said Dr. Adams, “why was this matter kept so profoundly
secret?”

“There were two reasons: First, the country was easily excited at the
time, and on that account, when the danger was passed, it was thought
best to say nothing, and all who knew of it had been put upon their
honor not to disclose it. Second, it could not be verified as to the
co-conspirators in Maryland and Virginia, and the plan agreed upon by
them, without involving a man heretofore mentioned, in high position
among the very persons who were conspiring to do the deed. His exposure
would doubtless have cost him his life; and I hope you will not now ask
me to say whether he is living or dead.”

“I will inquire no further on this subject,” said Dr. Adams, “but would
like to know what became of the Black Hills scheme?”

“That scheme failed at or about the same time of the collapse of the new
rebellion.

“Time passed, and finally the country got rid of this President by
electing the General of the Army. We all, or many of us at least,
breathed more freely. The reorganization of the South became a fixed
fact, and the machinery moved smoothly for awhile. My son Henry was
still anxious to go to work and try his fortune in the Black Hills
country. About this time his wife bore him a fine son. He therefore left
her with me and started fortune hunting.

“Gen. Anderson made a visit to his old home in Mississippi and was,
to all outward appearance, well received. He returned home, and, after
talking the matter over with his wife, they thought it would be safe
to return. The Union men were at that time in power in Mississippi, and
many Northern people were flocking there and purchasing property.
Very soon the General and his family got ready to leave Allentown for
Jackson, Miss. When the time came for them to leave, the sorrow with
us all was very great. Mary Anderson and Seraine wept, and held to one
another, instinctively fearing that this separation was forever. The two
children, little Mary and Jennie, shrieked and screamed, and begged not
to be separated. The scene was heartrending. I felt as though my last
friend was leaving me. The General and I acted like children. We both
wept and embraced each other--neither could speak. I held poor little
Mary in my arms and bathed her blessed cheeks with my tears. Old Ham
and Aunt Martha would go with 'Marsa Gen'l' They both wept and heaped
blessings upon us all. As far off as we could see the poor old people,
they were bowing and bidding us good-by. God bless their poor souls;
they were as good and as kind a couple as ever lived!

“Seraine and I had procured good help before they left, and were, in
that particular, in excellent shape; but when the General, his wife,
little Mary and the old couple left, it was desolate, sure enough. We
were lonely in the extreme. We had been so long together, and had passed
through so many trials, had grieved, and had experienced so many sorrows
together, that no one could describe our feelings. The General, however,
felt that he could do well again at his old home, and he thought the
people down there were reconstructed and satisfied with their wrong
course.

“I spent most of my time out at the farm. I would take my Jennie, as I
called my granddaughter, with me and explain everything to her, as
much to employ my own mind as hers. Henry wrote us very often. He was
delighted with the country and was doing quite well; had made money,
and was investing it in property in Yankton. Seraine's father and mother
visited us frequently, and we were living as happily as we could under
all the circumstances.

“In a few months Gen. Anderson visited us. He was feeling satisfied with
his home and was doing well. He gave a glowing description of old
Ham and Aunt Martha's happiness now that they could see other colored
people. The President had offered him (Anderson) a foreign mission,
which he had declined on account of his fine prospects in his profession
in Mississippi.

“The next year after Henry left us he returned, but was determined to
make his new home his permanent one, and insisted on Jennie and I going
with him. He said he would not leave us alone, and would stay in Indiana
if we could not go with him and Seraine. He could not think of leaving
Seraine and his fine baby boy any more. I thought I ought not to
interfere with the boy's prospects, so I agreed to go with them. I
rented my house, made arrangements about the farm, and we all left
for Yankton. Henry had purchased a nice place, and we lived there very
happily together. We kept up our correspondence with Gen. Anderson and
his family.

“One day Henry came into the house very much excited, saying that he had
just seen Wintergreen on the street, who pretended not to recognize him.
The town was settling up and growing very fast. Many people from the
South were coming into the Territory as well as the town. I told Henry
to beware of this man; that he, knowing that Henry had his secrets,
might, through fear, if nothing else, do him some harm. One day there
were quite a number of persons near a billiard hall, in a dispute about
some matter. Wintergreen was in the midst of the crowd. Henry stepped
up out of curiosity to ascertain the cause of the trouble. Wintergreen
spied him, drew his revolver, and shot him dead.'

Dr. Adams exclaimed, “My God! Your last son!”

“Yes,” said Uncle Daniel with a tremulous voice, “this was the last of
my dear family. So you see, gentlemen, as I first stated, my home is
desolate. Why should I wish to buffet the world longer? This was the
fulfillment of my good wife's dream--the seven fingers were now gone.

“Wintergreen escaped. The distress of Henry's wife, as well as my
own grief, I will not undertake to describe. We conveyed his body to
Allentown and there laid him to rest with his mother and brothers. Gen.
Anderson, learning of our affliction, met us at our old home. Seraine
and I remained with our little family at Allentown, I getting back my
house. I broke down under this last sorrow, and was confined to the
house for more than a year. Seraine cared for me as she would for her
own father, and this child here, my dear Jennie, was with me and by my
bedside nearly the whole time of my sickness. God bless her!”

“So say we all!” was the response from those present.

“Gen. Anderson visited me several times during my illness. His wife and
little daughter came and spent a month with us, which added greatly to
what happiness we could then enjoy.

“The men who had been in rebellion now began to show their feeling and
take hold of the politics of the South. Gen. Anderson was very prominent
as a lawyer and a leader in political affairs in Mississippi. The rebels
now commenced to organize secret societies similar to those that were in
the North during the war. Another Presidential canvass came on, and the
then President was re-elected. Very soon political matters in that part
of the country, in State affairs, became very exciting. Prominent men
were threatened; colored men were whipped and driven away from meetings;
raids were made upon their houses in the night-time and many were
murdered--some white men sharing the same fate.

“Gen. Anderson used all of his influence to stay this tide of oppression
and wrong. He was threatened with violence, but did not believe they
would assault him. He was a brave man, and could not think of leaving
his friends, but determined to stand by them. Quite a number of Northern
men were driven from that part of the country, and their property
destroyed. A perfect reign of terror prevailed.

“The General moved into another county, so as to be out of the
excitement as much as possible. At a political meeting near the capital
of the State, Gen. McKee, a Northern man, without any provocation
whatever, was brutally assaulted and almost murdered for making a
Republican speech. This character of conduct continued until one day in
court, where some of these men were being tried for their outrages,
the General denounced this course as brutal, and such as ought to
make barbarians blush. A mob collected around the court-house and made
threats of violence against him, denouncing him as a ----- Yank and not
fit to live. They then and there notified him to leave the State within
five days, and that if found there longer than this his life should pay
the forfeit.

“He had determined not to leave, so he prepared himself and remained at
home. At the end of the five days a mob collected about his house and
demanded that he leave at once. They were boisterous and threatening.
One of his neighbors was at his house and prepared to assist the General
in defense of his home and family. His wife and little girl were so
much alarmed that they screamed and cried for help. Finally the General,
standing in his door, flatly refused to leave. A volley was fired at
him, one shot taking effect in his right thigh. His little daughter ran
to him and threw her arms about his neck, shrieking and begging for her
papa. His neighbor fired from a window, wounding one of the mob.

[Illustration: Murderous assault upon Gen. Anderson and family 449]

“This was like fanning the flame. They rushed upon the house, firing
indiscriminately. The General was shot three times and fell dead. His
little daughter, with her arms about his neck, received a shot in her
left breast, from which she died in a few minutes. His neighbor, Gibson,
was as brutally murdered in the house, being riddled with bullets. Old
Ham ran out of the kitchen to make his escape and was shot dead in the
yard. Mary Anderson fell senseless to the floor. Old Aunt Martha was the
only soul left to do anything. She was on her knees praying while the
mob was doing their desperate and bloody work. They retired yelling like
Indians after taking scalps. Poor old Martha ran to one of the neighbors
for help, but could get none from white people. A few old colored people
gathered at the house and cared as best they could for the dead.

“For two days this family of dead and stricken lay without a white
person coming to the house to aid or assist. The enemies would not, and
the few friends were afraid to do so. The General, little Mary, and Mr.
Gibson were buried by the colored people in the best manner they could.
Mary Anderson became a raving maniac and died in about one week after,
and was buried by the side of her husband and daughter, a minister and a
few women having come to look after her since the interment of the
other dead. Old Ham was laid away by the colored people. Aunt Martha
was grieved beyond expression, and alarmed for fear she also would be
murdered. She prayed night and day to be brought back to her 'Marsa
Lyon.'

“The colored people, having great respect for the General and his
family, made up money enough to send Aunt Martha back to my house. A
young colored man ventured to come with her, for which I remunerated
him. This poor old woman's story was enough to melt the most obdurate
heart. She talked constantly of the General, his wife, little Mary, and
poor old Ham, and felt that the 'good Laud' had deserted them for some
reason.”

We were all dumfounded at the recital of these barbarous murders.

“My God!” exclaimed Dr. Adams, “what is this people coming to?”

Col. Bush shed tears, but could not speak. All were silent. Uncle Daniel
left the room, but returned in a few moments and said:

“My friends, you can now see why I so often have said, 'What have I to
live for?' Why should I desire to remain here and brood over my great
misfortunes and sorrows longer?”

Finally Col. Bush walked the floor, and in a most subdued tone, said:
“For such a man and so noble a family to die in such a villainous
manner! Did no one suffer punishment for this diabolical crime?”

“No, not one was punished. The matter was investigated, but that was
all.”

“Well, I have asked myself heretofore the question, why did I give my
right arm for such a Government? That such a man, who had served his
country as faithfully as he, could be thus brutally murdered, with his
family, and no one punished for it, is a marvel to me; and no doubt some
of his murderers are now holding high official position!”

“Yes,” said Uncle Daniel, “one of the instigators of this crime has held
office ever since, as a Southern patriot who nobly assisted in ridding
the South of one of those Northern Yankees.”

“Uncle Daniel, what became of Aunt Martha?” inquired Maj. Clymer.

“Poor old woman, she lived with Seraine and me for about three years
after her return, when she sickened and died. When she spoke on any
subject she would finally get to those murders. They preyed upon her
mind constantly, and I think hastened her death.”

“How strange that all who were connected with your household during the
war should have had such a fate!”

“Yes, my friends, it has been the one unaccountable mystery in my life.
Poor old Joseph Dent died in the same year, and I was left almost alone.
My dear Jennie, a few years ago, married Mr. Wilson, and I came to live
with them in Oakland. Seraine went to her father and mother in Michigan.
They are both alive and she remains with them. Her son Harvey--named for
his uncle, my youngest son, who was murdered at the battle of the Gaps,
if you remember--is now in Chicago working as one of the cash-boys in a
dry-goods store. I thought, as he was the last link in our family, that
the Government owed it to us to send him to the West Point Military
Academy, but I could not get him into the school. The member from here
was not favorable, inasmuch as he was an anti-war Democrat during the
rebellion. Harvey is making his own living now and I hope he may have
a bright future. He often comes to see us. Poor Seraine; when the boy
could not get into West Point, it almost broke her heart. She said to
me:

“'Father, how shallow is this world. You, his grandfather, lost seven
sons, six in the army. This boy's father was starved near unto death in
Pine Forest Prison. I, his mother, risked my life in going through
the rebel lines to obtain his release. He was murdered by one of the
conspirators; and now we are forgotten. No one cares what we suffered
during and since the war. My son cannot even have the poor privilege of
being educated by the Government, when the sons of nearly every rebel
General who tried to destroy the Union are now under the guardianship of
the Government, being educated either at West Point for the army, or at
Annapolis for the navy.'”

Dr. Adams said: “This is hard; it is uncharitable, and shows a
great want of the proper gratitude that should be due under the
circumstances.”

Col. Bush said: “What does the Government or people care for those who
made the sacrifices? We are so far away from the war now in space of
time, that we are not only forgotten, but regarded as pests in society.
Are the people not grumbling about what has been done for the soldiers?
Do they not complain about our pensions? A few years more, however, and
all of us cripples, one-armed and one-legged and those who are wholly
armless and legless, will have passed away out of sight. The recognition
now is not to the victors, but to the vanquished. If you wish to be
respected by a certain class, North or South, only make it appear that
you headed a band of marauders during the war, dealing death to
Union men and destroying their property, and you will be invited to
agricultural shows, to the lecture halls, and upon the stump; and if
still living in the South, you will either be sent to the United States
Senate, made Governor, or sent on some foreign mission.”

“Uncle Daniel, what became of Thomlinson and Carey, the Canadian
conspirators,” inquired Inglesby.

“They are both dead, and many of their co-workers also. There has been a
very great mortality among the leaders of the rebellion. That is to say,
the older men--those who were somewhat advanced in years when it began.”

“Are many of the Northern men of whom you have spoken in your narratives
as rebel sympathizers, Knights of the Golden Circle, or Sons of Liberty,
still living?”

“Yes, they were generally young or middle-aged men, and with few
exceptions are still living, and are, almost without an exception, in
some official position--some of them in the highest and most honorable
in our Nation.”

“This could not have occurred in any other Government than ours, and is
passing strange,” said Dr. Adams.

“Yes, that is true; but do you not remember my mentioning the fact that
Hibbard, who was connected with one of the rebel prisons during the war,
came North last Fall to teach us our duty? I also said that probably he
would be sent abroad to impress some foreign country with our Christian
civilization.”

“Yes, I well remember what you said.”

“Well, I see by the papers that he has been appointed to a Foreign
Mission. I also see that a man of great brutality, who is said to have
been connected with one of the prisons in Richmond, has been put
in charge of all appointments in the greatest Department of the
Government--the Treasury.”

“Are these things so? Can it be possible?”

“Yes, these are truths. This is merely testing us in order to see how
much the people will bear; and they seem to bear these things without a
murmur. The next will be stronger. If the people of the South see that
they are sustained in this by the people of the large cities North, on
account of a fear that they may lose Southern trade, what may they not
demand? Certainly, very soon nothing less than Vice-President will be
accepted, and the same people who sustain these things now will cry out
that this is right!”

“It does look so. I have been studying this question since you have been
reciting your experiences and giving the views of yourself and others,
and am now prepared to agree that greed is at the bottom of all
this. This same greed is one of the several dangers that threaten
our country's institutions to-day. It causes crimes and wrongs to be
overlooked, and in many cases defended, in order to gain influence with
the people who are determined by any means in their power to control the
Government.”

“Yes; and see the progress they are making in this direction. As I
have said, there is not a man, with but very few exceptions, North, who
denounced the war and those who were engaged in prosecuting it, who is
not in some official position. Turn to the South. So far as they are
concerned it may seem natural for them to select from their own class;
but why should the North fall in with them? You have given, in your
answer to me, the only reasonable answer--that of greed and gain; but to
see this great change in the minds of the people in so short a time is
strange indeed. Twenty years ago they were thundering at the very gates
of our Capital. To-day they control the country. There is not a man,
save the President of the Southern Confederacy and a very few of the
leaders in the war made to destroy our Government, who is not now in
some honorable position if he wishes to be. We find them representing
us in the first-class missions abroad, in the second-class and in the
third-class; and there not being high places enough of this kind, that
the world may know the Confederacy has been recognized fully by our
people since its downfall, those who were in high positions under it now
take to the Consulships and are accepting them as rapidly as can well be
done.

“You find your Cabinet largely represented by their leading men, and
many of your Auditors, your Assistant Secretaries, Bureau officers,
etc., are of them. This not being satisfactory, all the other
appointments South are made up of those men to the exclusion of every
one who was a Union man before, during, or since the war. The Government
not furnishing places enough, all the State, county, and city offices
South are filled in the same manner by this same class. This still does
not satisfy, and all men sent to the United States Senate or to
the House of Representatives from the South, with only one or two
exceptions, are of the same class. In fact all of Jeff. Davis's Cabinet,
his Senate and House of Representatives, and his Generals that are
living, and who desire, are holding official positions of some kind.
What does this argue? Does it not notify us who have made sacrifices
for this Union that our services are no longer desired, and that we are
waste material, of no further use for any purpose?

“Who could have believed, while the war was going on, that this state
of things could ever have existed? Suppose this picture had been held
up before my seven dead sons when they entered the service. Suppose
they could have seen their mother's dream realized--all in their graves
beside their mother, and their father living on the charities of a
grandchild, laughed at in the streets by young men when speaking of
the wrongs inflicted by the rebellion, and told that this is of the
past--how many of them do you suppose would have gone right up to the
enemy's guns and been shot down in their young manhood?

“Suppose Gen. Tom Anderson could have seen a howling mob murdering his
family and no punishment for the murderers; would he have risked his
life hunting up the Knights of the Golden Circle and chancing it in
battle, as he did, for his country, that the rebels might control it,
and that, too, through the influence of the North, whose all was at
stake, and whose fortunes were saved and protected by such men as he? I
doubt if patriotism would have gone so far. Can you find me the patriot
to-day that, deep down in his heart, likes this condition of things?”

“Yes; but Uncle Daniel, these men are not rebels now. They are
Democrats,” said Maj. Clymer.

“Yes, true; but they are no more Democrats now than they were then, and
they were no less Democrats then than they are now. But I should not say
more; I have had trouble enough. Why should I grieve for the condition
of things which were not expected? I and mine have paid dearly for this
lesson. I hope it may never fall to the lot of any one else to pass
through such an experience. I shall see but little more trouble. May God
forgive all and protect the right.”

[Illustration: Death of Uncle Daniel 456]

Uncle Daniel here ceased speaking and sank back in his chair. His
granddaughter came into the room. Seeing him, she screamed and fell upon
his neck. We moved quickly to him. He was dead.

THE END.