The Spy of the Rebellion / Being a True History of the Spy System of the United States Army during the Late Rebellion

by Allan Pinkerton

After the departure of the Secretary I took with me two of my men, and proceeded to the vicinity of the residence of Mrs. Greenhow. I was then quite a stranger in Washington, and localities were not as familiar to me as they afterward became, and I therefore preferred to reconnoiter by daylight, to depending upon a survey after nightfall.

The entire day had been dark, gloomy and threatening; clouds had been gathering in the heavens, and everything indicated the imminence of a severe storm. As I left my headquarters, a slight shower of rain was falling, which I knew was but the precursor of a storm more violent. On arriving at the designated locality I found everything to be as they had already been described to me. The inside shutters to the windows were closed, and no sign was apparent that the house was occupied, and after carefully noting the situation and the exposed condition of the premises, I left the two men within a convenient distance of the place, and returned for the additional aid which I thought might be needed. Selecting three of my most discreet men, I again repaired to the scene of operations. We had not proceeded far, when the storm burst upon us in all its fury. The wind blew strong and chill, and the rain fell in deluging torrents. Umbrellas were a useless commodity, and, unprotected, we were compelled to breast the elements, which now were warring with terrible violence.

Arriving at Mrs. Greenhow's, under cover of the darkness I posted my men in such positions as I thought would be most advantageous for our purpose, and then calling in the two whom I had left there during the afternoon, I approached to within a short distance of the house. The darkness and storm, while decidedly uncomfortable, were of some benefit to us, as but few people were abroad, and these paid no attention to passing events, seeming to be only too anxious to reach their destination and to escape the pitiless rain.

The blinds at the windows were still closed, but a light was observed in two rooms upon the parlor floor, and I knew that the house was occupied. Of course I could see nothing within, as my view was entirely obstructed by the closed blinds, and, at length, becoming impatient at this unprofitable and unsatisfactory waiting, I determined to obtain a glimpse, at least, of the interior, and to ascertain, if possible, some knowledge of its occupants.

The parlor windows, through which the lights were gleaming, were too high from the ground to permit me to see within, and summoning the two men who were awaiting instructions I made use of their strong, broad shoulders in a manner quite novel to me, and quite ludicrous, no doubt, to a passer-by who did not understand the situation.

Ranging the two men side by side under the broad windows in front of the house, I removed my boots and was soon standing upon their shoulders and elevated sufficiently high to enable me to accomplish the object I had in view. I was now on a level with the windows, and noiselessly raising the sash and turning the slats of the blinds I obtained a full view of the interior of the room. The furniture was rich and luxurious, valuable pictures hung upon the walls, and several pieces of statuary and various articles of artistic ornamentation were arranged about the apartment, but to my disappointment, it was unoccupied.

I was about to give expression to my chagrin at this discovery, when a warning "Sh!" from one of my sturdy supporters induced me to be silent. Some one was approaching the house, and hastily clambering down from my perch, we hid ourselves under the stoop which led up to the front door. Scarcely had we ensconced ourselves in this convenient shelter when we heard the footsteps of the new-comer, and to our satisfaction, he stopped in front of the house, and ascending the steps rang the bell and in a short time was admitted.

By this time we were drenched to the skin—the rain had fallen in copious showers and during all the time we had been exposed to its dampening influences—but paying but little heed to this, we again took our position in front of the window, and I was soon remounted upon the shoulders of my operatives, prepared to take notes of what transpired.

As the visitor entered the parlor and seated himself awaiting the appearance of the lady of the house, I immediately recognized him as an officer of the regular army, whom I had met that day for the first time. He was a Captain of infantry and was in command of one of the stations of the Provost-Marshal, and not desiring to divulge the real name of the gentleman, who has since died, I will call him Captain Ellison.

He was a tall, handsome man of a commanding figure and about forty years of age. He had removed his cloak, and as he sat there in his blue uniform, and in the full glare of the gaslight, he looked a veritable ideal soldier. As I watched him closely, however, I noticed that there was a troubled, restless look upon his face; he appeared ill at ease and shifted nervously upon his chair, as though impatient for the entrance of his hostess. In a few moments Mrs. Greenhow entered and cordially greeted her visitor, who acknowledged her salutations with a courtly bow, while his face lighted up with pleasure as he gazed upon her.