CHAPTER IV.
Rumored attack upon Grand Junction—"General Bunker" sent out as spy—Passes himself as a rebel soldier—Falls in with rebel cavalry—Visits a rebel camp—Attempts to deprive him of his revolver—Discovers a Yankee forage party—Undertakes to return—Captured by Yankees, and robbed of his revolver and money—Passes as a rebel spy—Sent to the Provost Marshal—Sent to General Hurlbut—Returned to Grand Junction.
Soon after the evacuation of Corinth by the forces under General Beauregard, a part of General Grant's army was distributed along the Ohio and Mississippi and the Mississippi Central, and also the Memphis and Charleston Railroads, to garrison the principal towns and open up communication for supplies by railroad instead of by the Tennessee River, which was becoming so low as to be an uncertain route for supplies.
At the time I speak of, Grand Junction was garrisoned by a small brigade of infantry and a battery of artillery, under command of Brigadier-General M. D. Leggett. Grand Junction is situated on the Mississippi Central Railroad at its junction with the Memphis and Charleston Railroad, and was an exposed outpost.
A rumor had become current among the citizens that a large force of the enemy's cavalry was in the vicinity, preparing to capture the brigade garrisoning the post. General Grant, who was still at Corinth, informed General Leggett by telegraph that his command was in danger; that an attempt would be made to capture his force; that he would be attacked on his right by cavalry and on his left by infantry, and advised him to vacate the place and fall back to Bolivar, twenty miles north of Grand Junction, where the Mississippi Central Railroad crosses the Hatchee River. The enemy's force was represented to be 900 cavalry at Davis' Mills, and three brigades of cavalry at what is known as the White Church, on Wolf River, the former nine and the latter twelve miles from Grand Junction, in a south-west direction. An additional force of a division of infantry were said to be at Salem, seventeen miles south-east of Grand Junction.
General Leggett had some doubts about the rebels having very much force near the place, and the large quantities of cotton that were being brought in, and the abundance of corn for forage, made it an object to hold the place as long as prudence would admit, and he resolved to ascertain whether there was any cause for alarm before vacating it.
General Leggett sent for me and told me what he wanted, and asked me if I was willing to undertake the job. It was the first opportunity that I had ever had of working as a spy, and I had for a long time been anxious to try my hand at it, and I felt certain that I could do the Government more good in that way than in any other. It was my time to strike, and I determined to improve it. I told General Leggett that I was willing to try, and would do the best that I could, and if I got back safe, "all right;" if not, my fate would be no worse than that of others before me.
I returned to my quarters and made the necessary arrangements, and the next morning, at daylight, I started out on the road to Salem, disguised as a Confederate soldier belonging to infantry.
The day was clear and pleasant, and a recent shower had laid the dust and cooled the air, and made it much pleasanter traveling than is apt to be the case in that country in the month of July. I was on foot, and the coolness of the atmosphere very much facilitated my progress. I was not interrupted in my progress until I had gone about eight miles, when I observed, as I approached a planter's house, a negro woman in the yard, engaged in churning. Being somewhat fond of buttermilk, I resolved to pay the inmates of the house a visit. As I approached the house, a lady came to the door, and, observing my Confederate uniform, seemed pleased to see me, and asked me to walk in and be seated, to which I complied.
"Where have you been?" she inquired.
"I have been out to the Yankee pickets, and I had a fight with them last night and killed three of the d——d Yankees. They killed my horse for me in the fight, and I am going back to Salem to get another that I left there. I have walked until I am tired. Seeing the woman churning in the yard, I thought I would stop and rest myself, and see if you would have the kindness to give me a drink of buttermilk."
"I am glad you did. You shall have all the buttermilk you want. You are not a-gwine to walk to Salem, are you?"
"Yes. I've got another horse there, and I don't like to trouble any body for the use of one."
"Well, now, you are not a-gwine to walk down thar; we've got heaps o' horses and mules, and you shall have one to ride. Bob! Bob!" calling to a darky in the yard, "you run right quick to the cotton-gin and fetch your master."
While Bob went on a double-quick for his master, the lady ordered me some buttermilk and wheat biscuit. While I was eating, the planter came in.
"Lord bless you, John!" exclaimed the lady, as her husband entered, "here is one of our soldiers, and he has had a fight with the Yankee pickets and has killed three of them! He says he's gwine to walk to Salem after another hoss. I tell him that he's not a-gwine to walk when we've got heaps o' mules! I think any of our soldiers that has killed three Yankees is entitled to a mule to ride!"
"You can have a mule in welcome; there's no occasion for you to walk," said the planter.
"Thank you!" said I, "I am under very great obligations to you for your kindness, but it may not be possible for me to return this way. I will not take a mule, but I am a thousand times obliged to you."
With many blessings from them, and an urgent invitation to call if I returned, I took my departure. When about twelve miles from Grand Junction, I was overtaken by a squad of thirteen rebel cavalry, including one Sergeant, under command of a Lieutenant.
"How are you, boys?" said I, as they came up.
"Fine!" said the Lieutenant. "How do you do?"
"I'm getting pretty near well, I thank you."
"Where do you belong?" he inquired.
"To the 13th Tennessee Infantry, Col. Vaughn's regiment."
"Ah—yes, yes; he's all right. I remember of seeing him in Corinth last spring," said the Sergeant; "I have a cousin in the same regiment."
"Where do you belong?" I inquired.
"To Jackson's First Battalion of Cavalry," answered the Lieutenant. "Where are you gwine?"
"I am gwine down to my regiment," said I. "I have been sick, and have been home in Osceola, Mississippi County, Arkansas, and I am gwine down to Salem to report myself to the nearest head-quarters. I have heard that there is some of our forces there, and I want to find out where my regiment is."
"You are mistaken," said the Lieutenant; "there is none of our forces there. And besides, it is not necessary for you to report at any head-quarters. Your regiment is at Tupelo, where you will have no difficulty in getting to it. We have some spare horses here; get on one of them and ride."
I mounted one of the horses and rode along with them. I learned, from conversation with them, that their regiment was stationed at Tupelo, Miss., and that they were detailed to traverse the country and visit all the planters, and tell them to haul their cotton, corn, and bacon to a place known as the Double Block-house, where it would be guarded to prevent the Yankees from stealing it.
We only went about a mile after I mounted the horse before we turned to the right, and a half a mile more brought us to the double log-house. At that place three regiments of infantry were camped, and their principal object appeared to be to guard the stuff that the planters were hauling in for protection. Several thousand bushels of corn and large quantities of bacon had already been hauled there.
We dismounted and remained in the camp about an hour. While there the Lieutenant told me that I had better not be in a hurry about going to Tupelo; "for," he said, "the times are rather tough for a man just recovering from sickness, and the rations are not such as a sick man can relish." He told me that he was going round on to the lower Tupelo road in a day or two, and that I had better run with them till that time, and he would put me on to a road where I would find clever people and plenty to eat. It all seemed very good advice, and favorable to my purpose, and so I accepted it.
The balance of the day was spent in visiting every plantation on the roads to the west and north of the block-house, and when we halted for the night we were within three miles of Davis' Mills.
There I was like to have a little difficulty with the Sergeant. I had with me a very nice navy revolver that I had borrowed of Colonel Force preparatory to starting out. The Sergeant discovered that I had it, and was going to take it away from me.
"What business has an infantry soldier with such a revolver as that?" said the Sergeant. "Infantry soldiers don't need them, and cavalry soldiers do. It will never do you any good if you keep it; so give it to me."
"Sergeant," said I, "you are superior to me in rank, and if you insist I shall have to obey; but if you take that revolver away from me I'll report you to Billy Jackson! I will indeed!"
"Sergeant," said the Lieutenant, who heard our words, "if Colonel Vaughn is willing that his men should carry such things, it is none of our business. Let the soldier keep his revolver!"
"Thank you, Lieutenant," said I. "I prize that revolver very highly. I bought it in Memphis, about the time the war commenced, to kill the Yankee sons of b—hes with, and when I enlisted Colonel Vaughn told me I might carry it, and I mean to do it."
"That's right!" said the Lieutenant. "Turn up as many of the d—d Yankees' heels with it as you can! Soldier, what road did you come in on this morning?"
"I came down on the Somerville road, across the Hickory flats, by the old man Pruett's, and then over on to the Salem and Grand Junction road."
"You came a very good route, indeed."
"I am aware of that," I replied. "I know this here country all through in here. Lieutenant, where did you boys stay last night?"
"Haven't we got a cavalry force there?"
"No. There was only us fourteen there last night."
"The old man Pruett told me yesterday that there was, that we had three brigades of cavalry at the White Church on Wolf River."
"The old man was mistaken. There is none of our forces nearer than Tupelo, except the three regiments that you saw to-day, and a few of the same company that I belong to, that are scattered about the country on the same business that we are on."
In the morning our operations of notifying the planters was renewed, and our route lay along the bottoms of Davis Creek, toward the head-waters of the creek. About noon we very unexpectedly found a Yankee forage party.
"There is some of the Yankee sons of b—hes now!" said the Lieutenant.
"Where?" said I.
"There, up on top of the hill to the left," said he, pointing toward them.
I looked, and sure enough there they were. There was about thirty of the Yankees, and eight teams. They had halted to feed, and had stacked arms. They did not see us. We moved along a little further to a cow-path that led to the right up a ridge of ground parallel to the one occupied by the Yankees. The hollow that intervened was filled with a growth of bushes extending to the path which we were in, which screened us from view and enabled us to approach within fifty yards of the Yankees without being seen.
I now recognized the detachment as belonging to my own regiment, and one of the men was my own bunk-mate!
The Lieutenant told us to be quiet and not to speak a word, and if the Yankees ventured away from their arms, we would make a dash upon them and capture their arms and mules, and burn the wagons. Little did they mistrust the relation that I bore to these Yankees. I determined, if a dash was attempted, to do what execution I could upon my butternut companions with my revolver, hoping to dispose of four or five of them before my true relation was discovered. It was a moment of fearful suspense as we watched those Federal soldiers; but my butternut companions were too deeply interested in the watch to observe any feelings that my actions might have betrayed.
For about twenty minutes we watched them, but they did not move away from their arms. The Lieutenant, fearing his own safety might be endangered by too long a stay, silently withdrew his men, and made his way back toward Davis' Mills by another route. That night we stayed at a planter's house, ten miles from Grand Junction.
At three o'clock the next morning we were again on the move, and a two hours' ride brought us to four corners in the road somewhere south-west of Lagrange, and three or four miles distant from that place. There we halted, and the Lieutenant told me that one of the roads was the one that I wanted to take to go to Tupelo. He gave me the names of several planters that lived on the road, and advised me to stop two or three days at a place and recruit my health all I could on the way to my regiment, and assured me that the planters he had named were clever people, and that I would be welcome with any of them. I thanked him and bade him a good morning, and started on the road that he had pointed out, not caring whether it led to Tupelo or not, if I could get away from him and his squad.
As soon as the cavalry was out of sight, I made a detour through a large cotton-field to my left, and continued on until I came into a road that I supposed led direct to Grand Junction; while in company with the cavalry, we had zigzagged through the country so much that I had become somewhat confused, and I was not sure where the road did lead to. I took it, however, and moved along very fast to get, as soon as possible, as far away from the vicinity where we parted, lest, by some chance or other, I might be found going toward Grand Junction instead of Tupelo. I kept, as I supposed, a sharp look-out as I moved along, and had gone, as near as I could judge, three miles, when I was very unexpectedly interrupted in my course by a challenge of "Halt! halt! you son of a b—h!"
I was considerably alarmed, for I supposed that I must have encountered a rebel picket. On looking to see where the challenge came from, I found that it emanated from a Federal picket. A clump of bushes had prevented me from seeing him until I was close on to him. My position was clear enough now. I had taken a road to Lagrange, instead of Grand Junction, and had encountered General Hurlbut's pickets.
"Ha! ha! my butternut soldier!" exclaimed the guard, as I halted; "you got caught rather unexpectedly."
"I reckon I did," I replied.
"Where do you belong?"
"To the 13th Tennessee."
"You've got tired soldiering on short rations, I suppose?"
"I reckon I a'n't starved yet."
One of the pickets then took me to the Captain in command, at the reserve. There I was subjected to a rigid questioning and search, but I was determined to carry out my disguise until I could report to some commanding officer. My revolver and money, and other articles, were taken from me by the Captain, and then I was ordered to stand up by a tree until further orders. I remonstrated with the Captain about depriving me of my revolver and private property, and told him that "we always respected a prisoner's right to his side arms and personal effects." The Captain replied that I might be d—d glad to get off so, and if he had his way about it, he would shoot every rebel in the Southern Confederacy.
While standing at the tree, I observed a plantation house that stood within less than a hundred yards from me, and that it was occupied. My early start and the distance I had traveled gave me a ravenous appetite, so I asked the Captain if he would be so kind as to allow me to go to the house and get some breakfast.
"Yes," said he, "you may go; but, G—d d—n you, if you undertake to get away, I'll have you shot!"
"I won't run away," I replied; "I didn't come in here to run away. I'll come right back as soon as I get my breakfast."
When I got to the house, I met the man of the house at the door. He had evidently seen me coming, and my uniform attracted his attention.
"Good morning!" said I, as he came out.
"Good morning; won't you come in?"
"Yes, I don't care if I do; and I should like right well to get some breakfast here, if you please, for I am mighty hungry."
"Walk in; you shall have all the breakfast you want. Where do you belong?"
"To Col. Vaughn's regiment, the 13th Tennessee."
"You do?"
"Yes."
"Well, I belong to Colonel Strawl's regiment, the 4th Tennessee. I am a surgeon in that regiment; my name is Biggs. What is your name?"
"My name is Ruggles. I am a brother to General Ruggles."
"Is it possible! I know the General very well. What are you doing up here?"
"I am going through the d—d Yankee lines to-day, if I can."
"You are? A'n't you afraid they'll get you?"
"No; I expect they'll get me into the guard-house, but I'll soon manage to get out."
"Well, do the best that you can. If they do get you into the guard-house, you sha'n't want for anything to eat. I'll see to that myself."
Breakfast was announced as ready for me, and I sat up to the table. They had got me fried ham, baked sweet potatoes, warm biscuit with butter and honey, and coffee with sugar and cream. I think the condition of my appetite enabled me to do that meal ample justice. When I had finished, I asked the doctor how much I should pay him.
"Oh, Lord! not a cent! Do you think I'd charge one of our soldiers for a meal of victuals! I feel thankful that I have it to give you!" Then turning, and pointing toward the pickets, he said, "But them d—d Yankee thieves down there I make pay me fifty cents for a meal of nothing but bread and meat!"
"You've got them rightly named, doctor," said I; "for they took my revolver and my money, and every thing else I had, away from me this morning."
"You needn't be surprised at such treatment as that," said he; "for there are officers down there that would steal the Lord's supper, and men that would steal the table-cloths!"
"You are about right, doctor; but I see they are looking as if uneasy about me, and I must go back."
"Well," said he, "if you get into trouble, I'll do all I can for you. I have got things fixed pretty smooth between me and the pickets, and I think I can help you carry out your plans."
"Haven't you taken the oath, doctor?"
"Oh, yes! I had to do that in order to get along smoothly."
"Well, you be careful and not get yourself into any scrape by it. I would advise you to say nothing, and if I get into the guard-house, you see that I get plenty to eat, and I'll wriggle out some way."
I then bid him good-by, and returned to my position by the tree. When the new pickets came out to relieve the old ones, two of the old guards took me in to the Provost-marshal. As I entered his office, I was saluted by, "Well, old hoss, who are you?"
"I am an Arkansas school-master," I replied.
"What do you want?"
"I want to see General Hurlbut."
"What do you want of General Hurlbut?"
"I want to see him. I've heard that he's a very red-faced man, and I want to see for myself how he looks!"
"Yes, you want to see him! You'll go to the guard-house!"
"No I won't!"
"Who are you?" he demanded.
"You give me those two guards and send me to General Hurlbut, and find out who I am!"
"Guards," said he, "take him off; take him down to General Hurlbut's. I don't know who the h—l he is!"
The guards took me to the General's quarters, and one of them went in and told the General that they had got a fellow that they had captured at the picket-line, and that he was dressed like a rebel soldier, and that the Provost-marshal could not find out who he was, and had sent him there. The General came out of the tent, and, seeing who it was, said:
"Ah, yes! I know him! Guards you can go to your quarters."
"Hold on, General," said I; "the Captain that had command of those guards took a revolver away from me that belongs to Colonel Force, and took my pocket-book, and every thing else I had in my pockets."
"What kind of d—d thieving and robbing will take place next! Guards, go and tell that Captain to march his men up here!"
In a few minutes, the Captain marched his men into the yard and formed them in a line; when that was done, "Captain," said the General, "give that man the things that you robbed him of!"
The Captain handed out the articles, one after another, and last of all he handed me an old fine-tooth comb! That was too much for the equanimity of the officers and men that were looking on, and they burst into a roar of laughter. The poor Captain looked as if he would sink into the earth. "That will do," said the General, when he had handed me all; "you can dismiss your men."
I told General Hurlbut the result of my trip, and he complimented me very highly upon my success, and then gave me a "little smile" of brandy and loaf sugar, and a pass to Grand Junction.
The pass saved me any further annoyance by the Federal pickets, and Dr. Biggs from the trouble of visiting the guard-house with "commissary supplies."
I reported my trip to General Leggett, and, for some reason, the brigade did not vacate the place for more than two weeks after.