CHAPTER VII.

Sabbath--Continuous Rain--Press Onward--Observed--Arrested--Curious Examination--Equivocating for Life--Plans Foiled by Unexpected News--Plundered--Jail--Terrible Reflections--New and Hopeful Resolve--Unwelcome Visitors--Vigilance Committee Disappointed--Ordered to Chattanooga--A Mob--Chained to the Carriage--Escort--The Journey--Musings--Arrival--Another Mob--Benevolent Gentleman(?)--General Leadbetter--Andrews.

It was Sabbath morning, but it came not to me with the blessed calmness and peace that accompany it in my own sweet Ohio. I saw the people going to church, and longed to go with them, but dared not encounter the prying eyes that would have greeted a stranger, even if I had wished thus to loiter on my journey.

But why should I dwell longer on this dreary morning? why linger over its miseries, deepened by the faintness of the hope that they would ever cease, and give me again to the comfort and love of home? I wandered on till about noon, when I was observed by some one on the watch for strangers. This was just beyond Lafayette, Georgia. A party of pursuit was at once organized numbering twenty or more. I knew nothing of my danger, till they were within about fifty yards of me, when they ordered me to stop.

I put my hand on my pistol, and looked round. The country was level and open for some distance, and I was too weary to run, even if some of the party had not been mounted; therefore I made a virtue of necessity, and stopped, asking what they wanted. They replied that they wanted to talk with me awhile. Soon they came up, and a little, conceited man, who had the epaulets of a lieutenant, but whom they called major, undertook to question me. He was very bland about it, and apologized hugely for interrupting me, but said if I was a patriotic man, as he had no doubt I was, I would willingly undergo a slight inconvenience for the good of the Confederacy. I endeavored to imitate his politeness, and begged him to proceed in the performance of his duty, assuring him that he would find nothing wrong. He then searched me very closely for papers, looking over my money and pistol, but found nothing suspicious.

He next asked me who I was, where I came from, and where I was going. I told him that I was a citizen of Kentucky, who had been disgusted with the tyranny of Lincoln, and was ready to fight against it; that I came to Chattanooga, but would not enlist at that place, because most of the troops there were conscripts, and the few volunteers were very poorly armed. I told him all about where I had been in Chattanooga, and the troops there, for I had heard a good deal said about them as I went down on the cars to Marietta, on the previous Friday evening. I had also heard them praising the First Georgia, which was with Beauregard, and now told the Major that I wanted to join it. He then asked why I did not proceed at once to Corinth, without going so far around the country. I alleged that General Mitchel was in the way at Huntsville, and that I was merely making a circuit far enough around to be out of the danger of capture.

This seemed to be perfectly satisfactory to the little man, and turning to the crowd he said:

"We may as well let this fellow go on, for he seems to be all right."

These words rejoiced me, but my joy was premature. A dark-complexioned man, who sat on his horse, with his hat drawn down over his brows, raised his eyes slowly, and drawled out:

"Well, y-e-s! Perhaps we'd as well take him back to town, and if all's right, maybe we can help him on to Corinth."

This was rather more help than I wanted, but it was useless to demur.

They conducted me to the largest hotel in the place, where I was received very kindly. Soon a number of lawyers came in, and commenced asking me all kinds of hard questions. I answered as well as I could. When I told them I was from Kentucky, they wished to know the county. I told them Fleming. Then they asked the county seat. This also I was able to give; but when they required me to give the counties which bounded it, I was nonplussed. I mentioned a few at random, but suspect most of them were wrong. They said it looked suspicious to find a man who could not bound his own county, but proceeded in their examination.

They requested a narrative of my journey all the way through from Kentucky. This I gave very easily, as long as it was on ground that was not accessible to them; but it sorely puzzled me to account for the time I had been on the railroad, and for the last night, which I spent in the woods. I had to invent families with whom I stayed--tell the number of children and servants at each, and all the particulars. This was rather perilous, as many of my auditors knew all the country around which I was thus fancifully populating; but I had no alternative. I might have refused to answer at all, but this would have been construed into positive proof of guilt--at least as good as a mob would have required. Besides, I still had a faint hope that they might be induced to release me, and allow me to continue my journey. As it was, my assurance puzzled them somewhat, and they held numerous private consultations.

But while they were thus deliberating over my case, and could only agree that it needed further investigation, a man, riding a horse covered with foam, dashed up to the door. He came from Ringgold, and brought the news that part of the bridge-burners had been captured, and that they had at first pretended to be citizens of Kentucky, from Fleming county,--but, on finding that this did not procure their release, they confessed that they were Ohio soldiers, sent out to burn the bridges on the Georgia State Road.

The remarkable coincidence of their first story with the one I had been trying so hard to make the rebels believe, produced a marked change in their conduct toward me. They at once adjourned to another room, and, after a brief consultation, agreed to commit me to jail to await further developments.

The little major was my escort. He first purloined my money, then took me to the county jail and handed me over to the jailor. This personage took my penknife and other little articles,--then led me up stairs,--unfastened the door of a cage of crossing iron bars, in which was one poor fellow--a Union man, as I afterward found--and bade me enter. My reflections could not have been more gloomy if the celebrated inscription, Dante, placed over the gates of hell, had been written above the massive iron door.

"All hope abandon, ye who enter here."

My feelings were terrible when the jailor turned the key in the lock, secured the heavy iron bar that crossed the door, and left me. Never before had I been locked up as a prisoner, and now it was no trivial matter--a few days or weeks. There was absolutely no hope ahead. I was there as a criminal, and too well did I realize the character of the Southern people, to believe that they would be fastidious about proof. Life is held too cheap in that country to cause them a long delay in its disposal.

In that hour, my most distressing thought was of my friends at home, and particularly of my mother--thinking what would be their sorrow when they heard of my ignominious fate--if indeed they ever heard, for I had given an assumed name. That all my young hopes and ambitions, my fond dreams of being useful, should perish, as I then had no doubt they would, on a Southern scaffold, seemed unbearable in the extreme. But only one moment did these thoughts sweep over me; the next they were rejected as not calculated to profit in the least. My first action was to borrow from my Union companion his blankets, of which he had a plentiful supply, and wrap myself in them. The warmth they produced soon threw me into a deep sleep,--profound and dreamless,--such as only extreme fatigue can afford.

I awoke hours after, feeling much refreshed, but did not at first realize where I was; yet a glance at the woven bars which everywhere bounded me in, brought back the knowledge that I was a prisoner; but I did not give way to useless despair. I was almost amused at the quaint, yet truthful remark my fellow-prisoner made to me. Said he:

"If you are innocent of the charge they have against you, there is no hope for you. But if it is true, you may save yourself by telling what regiment and company you belong to, and claiming protection as a United States prisoner of war."

I thought a good deal over this opinion, and became more and more impressed with its wisdom. It contained a truth that I could not gainsay. To hang a poor stranger in the South would be a common-place affair--only what was often done by the Southerners before the war began. In fact, they did kill a man at Dalton, under circumstances of the greatest cruelty, because he cheered as we dashed through the town. Afterward they found out that the man was as good a rebel as any of them, and had merely cheered because he thought we, too, were rebels; then they set the matter right by apologizing to his friends!

It was quite different in the case of our soldiers. If they were murdered, there was an unpleasant probability that some of the chivalry themselves would have to suffer in retaliation. Besides, I reflected with a glow of hope, the first I experienced since I fell into their hands, that our government held a number of rebels, who had been taken in Missouri on a similar expedition. All day and night I mused on these things, and endeavored to come to such a decision as would be for the best. When I heard of the capture of many of our party, and the announcement of the regiments to which they belonged, showing that they had been influenced by the same considerations I had been revolving, I at once determined to rest my fate on my claim as a United States soldier. I believe that this decision ultimately saved my life.

All this time I was not in loneliness. Throngs of Georgians came in to see the caged Yankee--both ladies and gentlemen. Many were the odd remarks they made, criticising every feature, and not a few adding every possible word of insult. The whole day they crowded in, and I was glad when the approach of night put an end to the annoyance.

The coarse food the jailor brought was eaten with such a relish as hunger only can impart. I was fortunate in respect to quantity, for my companion was not well, and could not eat much; but I atoned for his shortcoming by eating both of our allowances without difficulty.

In the morning, they took me before a self-constituted committee of vigilance. These committees were very common in the South, and still more summary in their modes of administering justice, or rather vengeance, than were the celebrated vigilance committees of San Francisco, in the early history of the gold mines. They were prepared with a board of the most eminent lawyers in the vicinity, and no doubt hoped to entangle me still more deeply in the meshes of contradiction than they did the day before. But I cut the whole matter short by saying:

"Gentlemen, the statements I gave you yesterday were intended to deceive you. I will now tell you the truth."

The clerk got his pen ready to take down the information.

"Go on, sir; go on," said the president.

"I am ready," said I, "to give you my true name and regiment, and to tell you why I came into your country."

"Just what we want, sir. Go on," said they.

"But," I returned, "I will make no statement whatever, until taken before the regular military authority of this department."

This took them by surprise, and they used every threat and argument in their power to induce me to change my purpose, but in vain. My reason for this, was to avoid the violence of mob law. While in the hands of the populace, there was danger of the summary infliction of punishment that the military authorities could disavow, if our government threatened retaliation. But if I was once under the regular military jurisdiction, they would be responsible both to the United States and to the civilized world.

When they found that I would tell them nothing further, they made arrangements to take me to Chattanooga, which was distant twenty miles. It was the same to Ringgold, near which we abandoned the train. Thus it will be seen that in that long and terrible night I had traveled twenty miles in a straight line, and, with my meanderings, must have walked fifty.

I was remanded to the jail to wait for the preparation of a suitable escort. Here I remained till after dinner, when I was guarded by about a dozen men to the public square. A carriage was in waiting, in which I was placed, and then commenced the process of tying and chaining.

A great mob gathered around, completely filling the whole square, and was exceedingly angry and excited. They questioned me in loud and imperious tones, demanding why I came down there to fight them, and adding every possible word of insult. I heard many significant hints about getting ropes, and the folly of taking me down to Chattanooga, when I could be hanged just as well there.

However, as the mob grew more violent in their denunciations, I selected some of the more intelligent ones and addressed them. They answered with curses; but in the very act of cursing, they grew milder and more willing to converse. I was not very much in the humor for talking, but following the dictates of policy rather than inclination, I answered their innuendoes merrily, and soon had some of the laughers on my side. Before long, I heard some of them say, "Pity he is a Yankee, for he seems to be a good fellow." This was gratifying, and we were soon ready to start.

I had been secured in such a manner as to make assurance doubly sure. A heavy chain was put around my neck and fastened by a padlock; the other end was hitched to one foot, and secured in the same manner; the chain being extended to its full length, while I was in a sitting position, making it impossible for me to rise.--My hands were tied together; my elbows were pinioned to my side by ropes; and, to crown all, I was firmly bound to the carriage seat!

My evil genius, the little major, took the seat beside me as driver. He was armed to the teeth. Two other officers on horseback, likewise fully armed, constituted the rest of the guard that was thought necessary to attend one chained and helpless Yankee. Oh! spirit of chivalry! how art thou fallen! No longer one brave Southern knight a match for eight or ten Northern mudsills; but three well-armed officers to guard one chained Union soldier! The same exaggerated caution I frequently noticed afterward. There seemed to be a perpetual fear on the minds of the miscreants that we were about to do something desperate.

As we journeyed along, the sky, which for days had been overcast, and, during that time, had hardly afforded us a glimpse of its celestial blue, became suddenly clear. The sun shone out in beauty, and smiled on the first faint dawnings of spring that lay in tender green on the surrounding hills. I am ever very sensitive to the influences of nature in all its phases, and now felt my spirit grow more light as I breathed the fresh air, and listened to the singing of the birds.

My companions were quite talkative, and though I hated them for the indignity they had thus put upon me in chaining me as a criminal, yet I knew it would be unavailing to indulge a surly and vindictive disposition, and therefore talked as fast and as lively as they could.

My guards, themselves, did not subject me to any insults, and even endeavored to prove that the extraordinary manner in which I was bound was a compliment to me. I could not see it in that light, and would have willingly excused the tying and the compliment together! The worst was that when they passed any house they would call out, "We've got a live Yankee here;" then men, women, and children, would rush to the door, and stare as though they saw some great monster, asking:

"Whar did you ketch him? Goin' to hang him when you get him to Chattanooga?" and similar expressions without end.

This was only amusing at first, but its perpetual recurrence soon grew terribly wearisome, and was not without its effect in making me believe they really would hang me. In fact, my expectation of escaping was never very bright; yet I considered it my duty to keep up my spirits as well as I could, and not despair till it really was certain that there remained no ground for hope. The afternoon wore slowly away as we traveled along, passing some very grand and romantic scenery, that in any other frame of mind would have been enthusiastically enjoyed; but now my thoughts were otherwise engaged.

It was not the thought of death I so much dreaded, as the manner of death. Death amid the smoke, and excitement, and glory of battle, was not half so terrible as in the awful calmness and chill horror of the scaffold! And sadder yet, to think of my friends, who would count the weary months that had gone by, and wish and long for my return, till hope became torturing suspense, and suspense deepened into despair. These thoughts were almost too much for stoicism; yet there was no alternative but to patiently endure.

The sun went down, and night came on--deep, calm, and clear. One by one the stars twinkled into light. I gazed upon their beauty with new feelings, as I wondered whether the short, revolving course of a few more suns might not bring me a dweller above the stars! And as I thought of the blessed rest for the weary beyond the shores of time, my thoughts took a new direction. I was not then a professor of Christianity, but had often and believingly thought of the great interests of the future, and had resolved to make them my particular study; but had never hitherto addressed myself in earnest to the task, and latterly, the confusion and bustle of a camp-life had almost driven the subject out of my mind. But now, whether it came from the clustering stars above, or from the quiet and stillness so congenial to exhausted nature, after the weariness and excitement of the last few days, or from a still deeper source, I know not. I only know that the memory of that night, when I was thus being carried chained to an unknown fate, is one of the sweetest of my life. My babbling guards had subsided into silence, and, as we wended along through the gathering darkness, high and noble thoughts of the destiny of man filled my breast, and death seemed only the shining gate to eternal and blissful life. I was nerved for any fate.

We arrived at Chattanooga while a feeble glow of the soft spring twilight still lingered on the earth. We immediately drove to the headquarters of General Leadbetter, then commanding that place, and while our guards ascended to inform him of our arrival, I was left in the carriage. As soon as we entered the town, the word was given:

"We've got a live Yankee; one that took the train the other day."

I was not the first one of the party captured, but was the first brought to Chattanooga. The curiosity to see one of the men who had frightened women and children into the woods, was, of course, most extreme, and an immense crowd soon gathered around. They behaved just as Southern mobs usually do--jeering and hooting--calling me by every epithet of reproach the language afforded, and wanting to know why I came down there to burn their property, and murder them and their children. To these multitudinous questions and assertions I made no answer. I was greatly amused (afterward!) by their criticisms on my appearance. One would say that "it was a pity that so young and clever-looking a man should be caught in such a scrape." Another, of more penetrating cast, could tell that "he was a rogue by his appearance--probably came out of prison in his own country." Another was surprised that I could hold up my head and look around on honest men--arguing that such brazen effrontery was a proof of enormous depravity of heart. I did not give my opinion on the subject. Indeed, it was not asked.

There was one man I noticed in particular. He was tall and venerable-looking; had gray hair, gray beard, a magnificent forehead, and an altogether commanding and intellectual expression of countenance. He was treated with great deference, and appeared to me most like a doctor of divinity. As he parted his way through the crowd toward me, I thought:

"Surely I will receive some sympathy from that noble-looking man."

His first question was calculated to confirm my impression. Said he:

"How old are you?"

I answered, "Twenty-two, sir."

Gradually his lip wreathed itself into a curl of unutterable scorn, as he slowly continued:

"Poor young fool! and I suppose you was a school-teacher, or something of that kind in your own land! and you thought you would come down here and rob us, and burn our houses, and murder us, did you? Now let me give you a little advice: if you ever get home again, (but you never will,) do try, for God's sake, and have a little better sense, and stay there!"

Then he turned contemptuously on his heel, and strode away, while the rabble around rewarded him with a cheer. I never could find out who he was. After that I looked no more for sympathy in that crowd.

My conductors now returned, and escorted me into the presence of General Leadbetter. They said he was a Northern man; but if so, it is very little credit to my section, for he was one of the most contemptible individuals I ever knew. He was a perfect sot, and had just two states of body, as a Confederate captain afterwards explained to us--these were, dead drunk, and gentlemanly drunk. He oscillated constantly between these two. He was a coward as well, and though only a brigadier-general, managed to stay as far away from the field when the fight was going on, as one of our own most conspicuous major-generals did. He had been promoted to his present position for his gallantry in hanging some defenceless East Tennessee citizens, which he did without a trial.

All these facts I learned afterward, except one, which was apparent when I entered the room. He was "gentlemanly drunk." He commenced questioning me, and I told him partly the truth, and partly not--going on the principle that truth is a pearl, and pearls are not to be thrown before swine. I told him that I was a United States soldier, giving him my company and regiment; but saying that I was detailed without my consent, that I was ignorant of where I was going, and what I was to perform, which I only learned as fast as I was to execute it. He wanted to know our intention in thus seizing the engine, but I plead ignorance. He next inquired who was our engineer, but I refused to tell. He then said:

"Sir, I want you to tell me just how many men you had on that train, and to describe them so I may know when I get them."

I answered, "General, I have freely told you whatever concerns only myself, because I thought it better that you should know that I am a soldier under the protection of the United States, but I have not yet become base enough to describe my comrades!"

"O!" sneered he, "I don't know that I ought to have asked you that."

"I think not, sir," I replied.

"Well," said he, "I know all about it. Your leader's name is Andrews. What kind of a man is he?"

I was perfectly astonished that he should have Andrews' name, and know him to be our leader; but I never imagined what I afterward found to be the true cause--that Andrews had been captured, and had given his name, with the fact that he was the leader of the expedition. I had every confidence that he would get away, and try some measures for our relief; so I answered boldly:

"I can tell you only one thing about him, and that is, he is a man whom you will never catch."

I thought I noticed a peculiar smile on the General's face as I said this, but he only replied:

"That will do for you;" and turning to a captain who stood by, he continued, "take him to the hole; you know where that is."

With a nod in reply, the captain took me out of the room. As I passed through the door, I saw an explanation of the General's smile. There stood Andrews, ironed, waiting an audience, and Marion Ross and John Williams with him. I did not choose to recognize them; for such recognition might have compromised them, as I knew not what course they would pursue.