The disguise of the individual and his plan of operations must be adapted to the particular time and place, and his success must depend greatly upon his address. Generals have frequently told me, before going out, how to address myself to the undertaking; but, as it is impossible to know beforehand the circumstances under which one will be placed, it is necessary that a man be of ready address, in order to adapt himself to any unexpected state of affairs that he might find.

Presence of mind, when suddenly and unexpectedly confronted, is very essential. When a man in that situation is thrown off his guard, his condition can rarely be retrieved.

A man should never lose confidence in his own case, nor despair of escape if captured; if he does, his case becomes hopeless. Never but once was I in a situation where hope entirely left me, and that was when I was about to be shot as a spy by a Colonel of Bragg's cavalry; and even then I did not despair until the deadly weapon was being leveled at my heart.

A spy should have as little superfluous or unnecessary conversation as possible. His information should mainly be derived by observation. I once came across a spy that General Grant had sent out, who was an inveterate talker. I was alarmed for his safety, and, as soon as an opportunity occurred, I said to him, "You talk too much. General Grant pays me for seeing, and not for talking." The fellow made fun of my advice. What became of him I do not know; he never returned to our lines.

Scouts sometimes get frightened; I have been. So do commanding officers and enlisted men. I have known a Major-General to dodge at the whiz of a bullet, and a whole regiment to become stampeded by a runaway mule! The best of men are sometimes the victims of fear. It should, however, be guarded against.

I made a practice of getting all the information that I could, without exposing myself to a danger of recognition, concerning the different regiments in the Confederate service. It was often of great service to me to know where such regiments were raised, and who commanded them, and also what brigades, divisions, and departments they were in. The names and residence of prominent individuals were also of great service to me. A knowledge of the language and habits of the people, anywhere a spy travels, is of great advantage. I have no idea that I would have succeeded as I did if I had not lived in the South before the war commenced.

I have been very successful in managing scouting and forage parties. I attribute it to the fact that I always watched for myself and my men. I have known several officers and their details to get captured because of depending entirely on the men to do the watching. Men become careless in such duties, and a surprise is often the consequence.

In my travels in the enemy's country, I was very particular to observe the features of the country through which I passed—whether wooded, cultivated, level, or hilly; the condition of the roads—whether hard, sandy, or wet; the condition of the streams and their location—whether fordable or not, and the manner of crossing and the nature of their banks. Also, the location of springs and wells, and the supply of water that they afford. Such information is of great value to a commanding officer.

There is great responsibility resting upon a scout and spy. If his reports are reliable, the commanding officer knows how to execute his movements successfully; but if his reports are false, and the commanding officer relies upon them as truth, his movements will, as likely as not, end in disaster, with a sacrifice of hundreds, and perhaps thousands, of lives.

It is far better for a scout, if he fails to accomplish his mission, to report it a failure, for, sooner or later, it will be found out. It is mortifying to fail in one's mission, but that is of little consequence compared with jeopardizing a whole army. I have several times failed to accomplish my missions, but my reporting of such failures has always tended to increase the confidence of my employers in my reliability.