CHAPTER X.
Sent to Grand Junction to capture guerrillas—Suspicious incident—Strategy to get out the guerrillas—Orders disobeyed—The rebel flag—The very kind secesh lady—The mistake—Out of the frying-pan into the fire—Guerrillas watching for them—The attack—The prisoner—The result of the trip.
A part of the duties assigned me, in the many trips I made to Bolivar, was to hunt up guerrilla organizations, learn their intended movements, and make arrangements for their capture. During my scouts, I had learned that there was an organized band of guerrillas at Grand Junction. On reporting the fact to General Ross, he requested me to go down and capture them, and gave me for that purpose a force of one hundred infantry, under command of a Captain, and forty cavalry, under command of a Lieutenant, with instructions to the officers that they should obey my orders in whatever plans I should choose to adopt. I was also furnished with a train of ten four-horse teams and wagons, and was instructed to let the infantry ride out, and, on my return, to load the wagons with forage.
It was about sundown when the detachment moved out from Bolivar. I rode about one hundred yards in advance, then came the cavalry, and in the rear the train bearing the infantry. My dress on this occasion was that of a citizen.
When the last lingering rays of daylight had disappeared, the night became extremely dark—so dark that it was impossible to distinguish friend from foe by the powers of vision. While crossing a piece of bottom land, with a forest of trees on each side of the road that seemed to make the darkness still more impenetrable, I met three persons. I saluted them with a "Good-evening," and inquired of them where they were going, and was told that they were going after some horses that had strayed away, and that they wanted to go on to Mr. Dickens' and stay all night, and resume the search for the horses in the morning. By this time the Lieutenant of the cavalry came up, and, on further inquiry, found that they had passes. He took their passes to examine, but could not find a match with which to make a light. He then concluded, from the feeling of the paper, that they were our passes, and allowed them to go on. When they passed the train, the infantry soldiers were sitting down in the bottom of the wagon-beds, and the most of them were asleep, and the men, in passing, probably did not discover any force but the cavalry.
When within three miles of Grand Junction, we halted and waited until nearly daylight, and then moved on to within a mile of the place. There I had the team's turned about, facing toward Bolivar, and gave the teamsters instructions to remain by their teams, and, if we were driven back, to push forward to Bolivar, if possible. I then moved the cavalry and infantry forward as noiseless as possible into the lane, within half a mile of town, and instructed the officers to remain there just half an hour, and, if I did not return, to make a dash into the town, for they might know by my absence that I was captured.
My plan was to leave my men there, and ride into town myself and find the guerrillas, and, if they were not concentrated, to find their leader and have him get out his men, to capture a small squad of Lincoln cavalry that I would report as feeding their horses near town, and while he would be getting out his men, I would reconnoiter to see if they were still there, tell the Federal officers where to place their men, and then go back and act as guide to the guerrillas.
Having given all the instructions that I thought were necessary, I rode on into town. As I drew up in front of the Percy House, the doors of the house were being opened, and "mine host" came out.
"Good morning, sir," said I, as he made his appearance.
"Good morning, sir," said he, eyeing me closely.
"Have we got any cavalry here?"
"No, there is none nigher than Davis Creek, three miles from here."
"Have we got any guerrillas here?"
"Yes, some. Why, what do you want?"
"Thar's a squad of Lincoln cavalry right up thar," said I, pointing toward my own men.
"Where are you from?" he inquired, as if uncertain whether I was right or not.
"Oh, I am all right. I am just from Memphis, and, as I was coming in this morning, I saw a squad of Lincoln cavalry feeding their horses, and I would like to get out a squad of our men and go and capture them."
"Well, I don't know how many guerrillas there is here; but there is Captain Robison, that keeps the corner grocery, and lives across the street as you go round the corner; he is Captain of the band, and he can tell you all about it."
"Thank you;" and I started off to find him.
When I got round the corner, I saw a nigger coming from a house that I took to be the Captain's; so I waited till he came out to me. I learned from him that it was the Captain's house, and that he was at home. Just then I was startled by the tramp of horses. Knowing that it was not time for my men to come in, I very naturally supposed that it was rebel cavalry. I went back to the corner to see what it was, and there came my own men, the cavalry on a gallop and the infantry on a double-quick. Instead of waiting thirty minutes, they had only waited eight! I was vexed to have my plans, through disobedience of orders, spoiled; and more so, because I had learned from experience that all attempts to convict a guerrilla after he was captured would be futile unless he was caught with arms in his hands fighting against us. With the oath of allegiance in their pockets, and the use of their oily tongues, they invariably managed to get released.
We then arrested Captain Robison, and such other persons as, from their actions, we had reason to believe belonged to the band.
Captain Robison kept, in addition to the grocery, a billiard saloon, which had been a favorite resort in the summer for the Federal officers, while the place was being garrisoned by the brigade under command of General Leggett. One day, while engaged in playing a game of billiards, Lieut. P. M. Hitchcock, regimental Quartermaster of the 20th Ohio, having occasion to look under the table for something, discovered, fastened up underneath the table, a large rebel flag, which he captured and carried to camp. The flag had been secreted there when the Federal troops first took possession of the place, and the officers had played on that table every day for weeks without having discovered it.
Having secured our prisoners, we proceeded to make the citizens of the place furnish breakfast for the detachment. This they were reluctant to do, but finally submitted. When all had been supplied, we returned to the teams. The teamsters had not fared so well, and, as soon as I returned, they requested me to make arrangements for their breakfast. I told them to drive on and I would do so. I then rode on, to find a house that looked as if its occupants had a supply sufficient to furnish the breakfast, and forage for the horses and mules.
About four miles from Grand Junction, I came to a large brick house on the right-hand side, a short distance from the road. I opened the gate, entered the yard, and rode up toward the house, and, as I drew up to the door, an elderly lady came out, whom I addressed, and inquired if I could get breakfast there for sixteen men, and feed for a hundred and fifty horses.
Supposing me to be a secesh Colonel, she replied, "Well, yes, so far as breakfast for the men is concerned; but really, Colonel, about the corn, I don't know as I have got enough here to feed so many; but if you are a mind to be to the trouble to send over to my nigger quarters, about three-quarters of a mile from here, you can get all the corn you want."
"Thank you, madam. I will ride down and halt the train, and send the men up for their breakfast."
As I rode away, I heard her order the niggers to get the breakfast. I halted the train, and set the niggers (who were returning with us from Grand Junction) to cutting up corn from a field on the opposite side of the road for the teams. The infantry soldiers immediately began to scatter about the plantation, in search of horses and mules, of which we had gotten several at Grand Junction.
The thought now occurred to me that I had been supposed by the lady to be a secesh Colonel, and that as soon as she saw the blue trousers, the getting of breakfast would be stopped; so I went back to the house to see about it. As soon as I came up, she met me at the door and commenced to complain.
"I thought that it was our cavalry coming; I was mistaken. Instead, I find that it is nothing but a parcel of confounded Lincoln jayhawkers!"
"We are all liable to mistakes, madam."
"Now, could you," she continued, "demand of a poor lone widow, like I am, breakfast for sixteen men and feed for a hundred and fifty horses?"
"The subject has changed appearances considerably since I was here before. I'll see about breakfast myself."
I dismounted and fastened my mule, and then went to a wood-pile and procured a big club, and then repaired to the cook-house. The niggers had evidently commenced to get things ready for the breakfast, but had stopped.
"What are you about, you black, woolly scoundrels! Why a'n't you cooking breakfast?" said I, addressing the niggers.
"Missus dun tole us not to get de breckfust!"
"Well, you go right to work and get the breakfast, or I'll thrash h—l out of your black hides! Start right away!" At that I made for them with my club.
"Hole on! hole on, massa! we'll dun an' get de breckfust!"
They all sprang to work in good earnest. One of the niggers told me that the woman had locked up the meat. I started for the smoke-house door, with my club, to break it in, but the woman, who had been watching me, followed with the keys, and, when she saw that I was going in any way, begged of me to let her unlock the door. On inquiry of the niggers, I found that she had butter locked up in a cupboard. I told her to get out some butter, and she declared she hadn't got a bit in the house. I walked toward the cupboard, with my club raised, without saying any thing further, when she came running to the cupboard, with the keys in her hand, saying, "Don't break it! don't break it! I'll get it out! I'll get it out for you! Do give a body time!"
By dint of perseverance, using a good many threats and some motions, I succeeded in having the breakfast made ready; which, having been accomplished, the teamsters were called in to enjoy it. While the teamsters were eating, a squad of soldiers came through the yard, with about thirty geese that they had confiscated. The lady saw them, and came to me to plead for them.
"Now, don't let the men take those geese; don't! they are great favorites of mine, and I hate to part with them!"
I had noticed, a few minutes before, a large, close pen in one corner of the yard, filled with nice, fat turkeys, which one of the darkeys had told me were being fatted to send to the rebel officers. The boys had not yet discovered them.
"Boys, put down those geese; don't be packing geese from here to Bolivar! Throw them down!"
"Why, Bunker!" they exclaimed, "you said we might get any thing that we wanted!"
"Throw them down!"
Down they went.
"Now, if you want any thing of the feathered tribe, pitch into those turkeys in that pen yonder," said I, pointing to it.
Away the boys went, a-flying.
"Good Lord! Now don't! don't get those turkeys! I'd rather you had took every goose on the place!"
"You are in a bad fix now, a'n't you?" said I. "Right out of the frying pan into the fire!"
Just then a little nigger girl came running in, and said:
"Missis, de Yankees dun got Lucy!"
"Where?" inquired the lady.
"Right out dat ar way," said the girl, pointing in the direction.
"Well now, I declare! Don't take that riding nag away from me, a poor lone widow, as I am; don't! Have a little mercy on me; do!"
"Yes!" said I, "you are a mighty poor widow! worth two hundred thousand dollars, and paying an overseer a thousand dollars a year; you are mighty poor! Soldier, fetch that mare back, and let the poor widow keep the d—d p—t-g—tt-d thing! It a'n't worth riding to Bolivar!"
As soon as breakfast was over, we again moved on. When within two miles of Van Buren, near where the Whitesville road takes off to the left, a little incident occurred to attract our attention. As I was riding along, in advance of the detachment, I saw a nigger coming up the road toward me, with his hat in his hand, and running as fast as he could, and appearing to be wonderfully excited about something.
"What's up?" said I, as I met him.
"Thar's a heap ob de secesh cavalry down by Massa's house, and dey are gwine to git you all!"
Here, then, was something to do. I was well acquainted with the features of the country all about there, and I knew where they would most likely be posted, and which way they would retreat if we were too much for them. I was also well satisfied that the enemy consisted of Hall's guerrillas, from Saulsbury, and that the men that we had met on our way down belonged to them, and, instead of going to Mr. Dickens' to stay all night, had gone down to Saulsbury and got out the band to capture our train, not knowing that we had any infantry force along.
I sent the Captain, with fifty men, to the right, to get to their flank in a piece of woods, where I was sure they would attempt to escape if we overpowered them. The Captain had a corn-field to cross, in reaching the woods, that would cover his men from view. I was to watch from the top of the fence, and see the Captain deploy his men in the woods, before ordering an attack in front.
I watched until I knew that the Captain had had plenty of time to have reached the woods; but, for some reason, he had not made his appearance. I waited as long as I thought it would do, and then, leaving ten men to guard the prisoners, I ordered the cavalry to charge, supported by the balance of the infantry.
As we dashed over the hill toward the house, a man was seen on the top of a large gate-post, watching for us to approach. He evidently had underestimated our force, and had not looked for a charge. In the yard by him was a splendid mule and a new saddle. He gave a look at them and then at us, and then broke for the corn-field on foot, leaving his mule and saddle for us. The saddle was a new one, and, I learned by the people in the house, belonged to Captain Richardson, who happened to be there, and was helping Hall's guerrillas to capture us. The saddle cost him thirty-seven dollars, and he had just received it the night before. As soon as the guerrillas discovered that we were charging on them, they fled to the woods where I had ordered the Captain to deploy his men, and they all escaped but one. The Captain had halted his men in the corn-field, and did not take them into the woods; had he done so, we might have captured the whole band, numbering, in all, thirty men.
The prisoner that we captured declared that he was no guerrilla, but a citizen; he told us that he lived in Memphis. At Van Buren, Mrs. Moore told me that she knew him, and that he was one of their nearest neighbors, and one of the finest men living in the county. At Mr. Marshall's we found a collection of neighbors, engaged in burying a child near the roadside. Mrs. Marshall, whom I saw there, told me that she knew him, and that he lived in Tupelo, Mississippi, and that he and his wife were out there on a visit, and that his wife was present somewhere in the gathering.
Just then the wife saw her husband, a prisoner, and she began to make a dreadful fuss, crying and wringing her hands, and begged of the Lieutenant to let him go; "for," said she, "I know that he will never take the oath, and they will hang him, sure, and I shall never, never see him again in this world!"
The Lieutenant passed on with his prisoner, and I remained behind until after the detachment had all passed, when I started on. Before overtaking them, I met the prisoner, coming back, with a written statement, signed by the Lieutenant, stating that he had been released. Before reaching Bolivar, the wagons were loaded with forage. Aside from the forage, mules, and contrabands that we gathered, the expedition was a failure.
The men we arrested at Grand Junction all managed to get released. I felt mortified at the result, because I felt sure that, if my plans had been carried out, we might have made a brilliant little affair of it. General Ross reprimanded the officers severely for not having obeyed my instructions.
The reader can see by the foregoing what might have been done on that expedition; yet it was a failure, because the parties concerned neglected to obey orders. It is a parallel case, on a small scale, to numerous others of greater magnitude, in the prosecution of the war.
Captain Richardson, who made his escape in the corn-field, has since been made a Colonel of a rebel regiment, raised near Lafayette, Tenn.