CHAPTER XI.
Sent to Lagrange—Observes two cavalrymen—Arrival at Lagrange—Waits for the Cavalry—Accompanies them out—Takes his departure—Is pursued—Evades the pursuit—Finds himself cornered—Crosses the Cypress Swamp—Robbed by outlaws—Disloyal citizen—The fate of the robbers.
Not long after my return from running with the 2d Arkansas Cavalry, General Ross requested me to make a general reconnoissance of the country along the railroad as far as Lagrange, and to examine carefully the trestle-work and bridges of the railroad, and to watch for any movement that might be intended as an attack on the post or a raid upon the railroad.
I went out, disguised as a citizen, mounted on a mule. Ten miles from Bolivar I stopped at Mr. M——'s, where I spent an hour or more in conversation with the members of the family. Mr. M—— was absent in the hospital, he having been wounded in the battle of Shiloh, and had not yet sufficiently recovered to enable him to get home.
While there I received an introduction to Miss Armstrong, a sister of the rebel General Armstrong. I found her a very frank, open-hearted woman, and very hopeful of the Southern cause. She did not evade the fact of the gloom and darkness that seemed to envelop the cause, but spoke cheerful and hopeful of the result. She inquired if I had any late news from "our" forces, and I, in turn, gained as much general information of Southern matters as I could.
When passing myself as a citizen of the South, I have always found the people affable in their manners, sociable, and extremely liberal in their hospitality. Whenever an occasion was offered them of rendering any assistance which they supposed was furthering the cause they had espoused, their kindness and generosity knew no restraint.
Two miles further on is the residence of Captain Rose, to whom I paid a visit. Captain Rose had served in the United States army eleven years, and is one of your genuine Union men, and has always been loyal to the Government. I have visited him frequently since, and was always made welcome. I did not disguise the fact of belonging to the Federal army to him, and have several times received from him valuable information. It was of rare occurrence that I found among the citizens of that locality such genuine sentiments of loyalty and devotion to the Federal Government as I found in Captain Rose.
I moved on leisurely, examining the railroad as I went, but saw nothing worthy of attention after I left Captain Rose until two miles west of Van Buren, where the road from Whitesville comes in. As I came near that place, I saw two rebel cavalrymen, who had been coming up the Grand Junction road, turn off toward Whitesville.
"Halloo, boys!" said I, hailing them, "stop a minute; I want to see you."
"We haven't time to stop," answered one; "our company has gone on to Whitesville, and we want to overtake it."
They dashed ahead without stopping. Their reply, however, answered my purpose. "A company of cavalry had gone to Whitesville," and it remained for me to find out what it had gone for. The two men were without luggage, from which I concluded they would return the next day; and, knowing that the rebel forces were principally at Lumpkins' Mills, it seemed probable that when the company returned it would pass through Lagrange, so I resolved to go on to Lagrange that night. It was then nearly dark.
I arrived at Lagrange about 11 o'clock at night, and halted at the depot. It was very dark, and every body had retired for the night, and, not liking to blunder about the place for lodgings, lest I might encounter some rebel cavalry, I lay down upon the depot platform, with my bridle over my arm, ready to spring up at the slightest alarm, and went to sleep.
In the morning I repaired to a house of entertainment, kept by a Mr. Lee, and procured some breakfast for myself and feed for my mule. There I waited for the return of the cavalry. About 1 o'clock, P. M., they came in and halted to feed.
I did not think that it was prudent to mingle with the cavalry while they remained in town, so I had my mule got ready, and remained at the public house until the cavalry commenced to move out, when I mounted and moved out on the same road in their rear, and, at a short distance from town, I came up with them. I rode along in company with them, as if I were a citizen returning to my home from town.
I asked the boys how they liked soldiering, and whether they had ever been in any fights, and what regiment they belonged to, and various other questions, such as I supposed a citizen would naturally ask; and, finally, I inquired where they had been, and was told that they had been to Whitesville, on a scout, to see whether the Yankees had been committing any depredations on the property of the citizens. In that manner I kept up my conversation until we were within three miles of the Cold Water Creek, without having excited any suspicion but what I was all right.
I had gone as far as I cared about, and began to think up some plan by which I could make my exit from their company without exciting suspicion. To accomplish my object, I gradually fell back to the rear, and the first rise of ground that the cavalry went over, that was large enough to hide me from view until I could get a good start on my way back, I turned about and left them.
I moved along on a good fast trot, occasionally looking back to see if I was pursued. I had made about four miles, when, on looking back, I saw a squad of fifteen or sixteen cavalry in full chase after me. My sudden departure had excited their suspicions. I put the spurs to my mule and dashed ahead at the top of its speed. My pursuers gained on me. I urged my mule still harder, and still they continued to gain. My situation seemed a hopeless one. I could not outstrip them in the chase, and they were rapidly gaining on me. If captured, my flight under the circumstances would be conclusive evidence against me. Still, on I pressed, the distance between myself and pursuers growing rapidly less. My mule, too, was becoming exhausted, and my pursuers were within five hundred yards of me. I had come full three miles since I saw them giving chase. Passing a bend in the road, with a growth of small trees and brush along the fence that hid me from view, I came to a gap in the fence, through which I passed into a field. The field was covered with stubble and tall weeds. I dashed ahead at right angles with the road for about two hundred yards, when I entered a basin or depression in the surface of the ground, that in a wet time would have been a pond, but at that time it was dry. The ground was considerably lower than the surface of the field between the basin and the road. There I dismounted and sat down, and, in an instant more, I heard the tramp of horses as my pursuers passed on.
I had despaired of making my escape, but as my pursuers passed on, hope began to revive. It was then about sundown. I waited there until dark, and then mounted my mule and started on. I knew that my pursuers would soon return, and I must manage so as not to be seen. When I arrived at the place where the road turns off to the right, that goes to Davis' Mills, I turned to the left into the edge of a piece of woods, where I could see without being seen, and halted.
In a few minutes I heard my pursuers approaching, who, when they came to the corners, took the road to Davis' Mills. I remained under cover of the woods until I thought all stragglers of the party, if there should be any, had passed, and then went on, watching carefully as I went.
As I was riding along, the thought occurred to me that, perhaps, my pursuers might have mistrusted that I had turned out into the field to evade them, and had placed a picket on the bridge across Wolf River, near Lagrange, to capture me if I attempted to cross. I rode on to within two hundred yards of the bridge, and there I left my mule and went forward to reconnoiter. When within a few paces of the bridge I stopped and listened, but did not hear any thing. I moved a few feet further, and then I thought I heard a footstep. I crept up still closer, and peered forward in the black distance, and there I could see, on the bridge, the form of a man. I watched and he moved. There was no mistake about it! My fears were realized! The picket was there!
The glimmerings of hope that had lightened me up as my pursuers passed me now vanished. I was completely cornered. The only bridge besides that one was on the Davis Mills road, and my pursuers were on that road. Between the two bridges was an extensive cypress swamp, and below the bridge that I was at was another swamp still worse. The only possible way that I could see to get away from my pursuers was to cross the swamp between the two bridges. To think of the undertaking was horrible!
I crept cautiously back to my mule, mounted, and rode through a dense growth of brush to my right, until I reached the edge of the swamp, where I halted. To undertake to cross in daylight would be hazardous, and in the dark utterly impossible; so I concluded to wait until morning before making the attempt. I laid down upon the ground, with my bridle over my arm, with the venomous insects and serpents as my companions, and the intervening brush over my head and the broad canopy of heaven, curtained with black clouds, my only covering. Such surroundings are not very conducive to sleep, but exhausted nature soon yielded, and I slept, and slept soundly—so soundly that when I awoke in the morning the sun was two hours high.
The mule, to satisfy its hunger, had eaten the boughs on the bushes, around where I lay, as far as it could reach, and yet it had neither pulled away from me nor disturbed my slumbers, but had been as careful of me and manifested as much attachment for me as a faithful dog would for his master.
The mule had been presented to me by General Ross, and had been a common sharer with me in the exposures and dangers that I had experienced, and had borne me safely thus far, and was, perhaps, to be the only friendly companion to witness the end that would befall me. When I thought of my situation, and witnessed the careful attachment expressed for me by that dumb animal, I could not control my feelings, but embraced the neck of that mule with joyous affection and wept.
I had not tasted a mouthful of food since I had eaten my breakfast, at the public house, the morning before, and I was not in a very fit state of body or mind to accomplish such an undertaking as was then before me. The tug of war had come, however, and the Rubicon had to be crossed.
Leading my mule by the bridle, I started in, sometimes at midsides in mire and water, and then on top of a bog or root, and then—splash into the water again! On I went, clambering, wallowing, splashing, and plunging! As all things earthly have an end, so had that swamp; and, in spite of venomous moccasins, tangled brush, cypress trees, mire and water, I arrived on the bank of the river. There I mounted my mule, and forded the river to the opposite bank.
Myself and mule were frightful looking objects, from the mire we had wallowed through, and, before going any further, it became necessary for me to clean off the mule to prevent suspicion. Several hours were spent in cleaning and drying before I felt safe to venture out.
As soon as I thought prudent, I mounted my mule and rode on across the country. I passed to the east of Lagrange, in sight of town, keeping a sharp look-out for cavalry. When I reached the Memphis and Corinth stage road, I took my course toward Bolivar.
When about two miles from Grand Junction, I saw approaching me from the east, and a long way ahead, three persons on horseback. I resolved to face the music this time, let come what would. My recent experience at running, had satisfied me. As they came nearer, I saw that they were dressed like citizens, which very much relieved my anxiety.
One of them was a very large man, of roughly-defined outline, with light hair and a red face; the second was a medium-sized man, of fair appearance, and the third was a little man, with small, round face, black hair, and sharp, black eyes. Their clothing was made of homespun cloth. As they met me, two came up on one side and one on the other, and halted; so I halted.
"Good afternoon, stranger!" said the big man, as we halted.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen!" I replied.
"That's a fine mule you are riding," continued the big man.
"Yes, it is a tolerable good one."
"Well, mister, we want that mule, and we are going to have it. Get off from that mule," said the big man. Each of them, at the same time, drew out a derringer and pointed it at me.
"You are the strongest party," said I, "and I suppose that you must have it."
I dismounted, and, at the same time, they dismounted, and the big man took possession of the mule. It was like parting with a last friend to give up my favorite, but "it had to be did."
"Have you got any money?" said the little man, coming up and thrusting his hands into my pockets. He took out every thing that I had in them, and then, casting his eyes toward my feet, said: "You have got a good pair of boots there; we want them."
"Strangers," said I, "that's going a little too far. You have got my mule and got my money, and now to take my boots and leave me to walk twenty miles to my home barefooted is too much. You can't have them, unless you take them off from my dead body; by G—d, you can't!"
"That is a little too hard," said the big man; "you may keep your boots."
They then mounted and rode away, leading my mule with them, in the direction from which they came, and I followed behind them, on foot. It is not often that I pray, but then I prayed. My prayer was, "that the 11th Illinois Cavalry would come dashing down on the road from Bolivar, and capture the lawless villains that had robbed me of my mule and my money."
Hungry and fatigued, with twenty miles to travel on foot, and that, too, upon the top of my misfortunes of the night before, made me any thing but good-natured, and I muttered vengeance to the robbers that had taken my favorite, if ever an opportunity occurred.
When I reached the house of old Mr. Pruett, hunger impelled me to stop. I found the people absent, except a daughter and a young lady from a neighboring family, that had called in. I found them obliging and sociable, and in a few minutes their fair hands, secesh as they were, had spread for me a bountiful repast, much to the delight of my ravenous appetite. I told the ladies that I had been robbed of my mule and money, and described to them the villains that had done it. The lady that had called in said that they answered the description of three outlaws that had robbed her uncle, a few days before, of $3,600 in gold, that he had just received for his cotton, and then they beat him on the head with their derringers, until they supposed he was dead, for having sold his cotton to the Yankees. She also said that they were supposed to live near Ripley, Miss.
Having satisfied my hunger, I resumed my walk toward Bolivar. When I came to the railroad crossing, I followed the railroad. I was too tired to make rapid progress, and made frequent stops to rest myself. When I arrived at Middleburg it was between 9 and 10 o'clock at night. As I was about passing a well near the depot platform, I saw a person drawing a bucket of water. Being thirsty, I stopped and asked for a drink. I recognized the man as the merchant that kept the brick store near by; he, however, did not know me. He handed me a drink, and when I returned him the cup, he inquired if I had any news. I told him there was no news.
"Have you got a Southern paper?"
"No, sir."
"I would give ten dollars for a Southern paper. I feel anxious to hear from Baton Rouge."
"I have no paper and no news from Baton Rouge."
"Where are you from?"
"Holly Springs."
"You from Holly Springs, and ha'n't got any news!"
"Look 'e here, mister, you are a stranger to me; I don't know who you are."
"Oh! I am all right!"
"Well, I don't know you. I am sent up here on special business," said I, in a confidential way.
"Oh! that's it, is it? I didn't know that!" Then, patting me on the shoulder, he said, "Go on! that's right! I hope you will have good luck and get through."
Before daylight next morning I was once more in camp at Bolivar.
The next January, as the army was on its way back from its campaign in Mississippi, while riding on ahead of the division to which I belonged, I came across my favorite mule. It was in company K, of the 7th Kansas Cavalry. I went to Captain Bostwick, who was in command of the company, and told him that he had my mule, and how I came by it and how I lost it, and also described the men that took it away from me. The Captain returned me the mule, and told me that, while making a raid near Tupelo, Mississippi, during the fall, he had captured three men of the description I had given, and with them eighteen mules, including mine, and that the men had been sent to Alton, Illinois, as guerrillas; so I never had an opportunity of retaliating on them for their outrage to me. I am fully convinced that they were professional robbers, and belonged to neither army.