CHAPTER VI.
Charleston and the Kanawha Valley. — A double murder. — Colonel Tyler assumes command of the post.

After the engagement at Cross Lanes, five companies of the regiment remained at Gauley Bridge, while the balance were at Charleston. The latter part was commanded by Colonel Guthrie, of the First Kentucky Regiment. At this time it was the seat of justice for Kanawha County, and contained upwards of three thousand inhabitants. It is a neat village, situated on the north bank of the Kanawha River, at a point where the Elk empties into it. There is a fine suspension bridge over the latter stream, which the rebels undertook to destroy in their flight. Charleston is three hundred and eight miles west of Richmond, and forty-six miles east of the Ohio River. It was named after Charles Clendenin, an early settler, and an owner of the soil on which it is built.

The Valley of the Kanawha is famous for its beautiful scenery. The mountains on either side of the river sometimes rise to the height of five hundred feet and more, and are liberally supplied with rich beds of minerals and coal. At their base is located the famous Kanawha salt works. They commence near Charleston, and extend for about fifteen miles above it. Before the rebellion they gave employment to nearly six thousand persons. The following extract will be of interest:

"It is a curious fact, and worthy of philosophical inquiry, that while the salt water is obtained by boring to a depth of from three hundred to five hundred feet below the bed of the Kanawha, it invariably rises to a level with the river. When the latter is swollen by rains, or the redundant waters of its tributaries, the saline fluid, inclosed in suitable "gums" on the shore, ascends like the mercury in its tube, and only falls when the river returns to its wonted channel. How this mysterious correspondence is produced is a problem which remains to be solved. Theories and speculations I have heard on the subject, but none seem to me to be precisely consonant with the principles of science."

Before the presence of the army interrupted the manufacture of salt, these works yielded about two million bushels annually, and are capable of yielding much more with an increase of capital.

While Colonel Guthrie commanded the post at Charleston a most disgraceful tragedy was enacted. An order had been issued that no liquors of any description should be sold or given to the soldiers or employees of the Government. During the time this order was in force, a party of drunken rowdies from the First Kentucky Regiment stopped at the grocery of an old man, and asked for some beer; when refused, they demanded it. Being again refused they threatened violence, and proceeded to put their threats into force, when a son of the old man, occupying a room above, was brought to the window by the old gentleman's cries for help, and, seeing his father thus set upon by a mob, from the repeated assaults of which his life was endangered, fired a revolver, the contents of which took effect on one of the assaulting party, producing instant death. He was at once arrested and lodged in jail, around which a strong guard was placed to prevent his being taken out and hung.

That night Colonel Guthrie, in a speech made to the excited throng, which had collected around the jail, said, in substance, that the life of the criminal should be taken if he had to do it with his own hand. Similar remarks were made by others, among whom was a captain who afterwards sat as judge-advocate on the trial.

On the morning after the affair the members constituting the court-martial assembled "in all the pomp and pride of glorious war," decorated with all the paraphernalia belonging to an officer's equipment, but to declare a prejudged opinion.

During the trial the prisoner was as immovable as a statue, evincing in his appearance a want of hope, as well as a preparation for the worst. He made no defence. The announcement of the sentence of death produced no change; he preserved a stoical appearance to the last.

When the hour of execution arrived the prisoner was brought to the gallows in a heavy wagon, guarded by a double file of soldiers, who were laughing as gayly as if on their way to some place of amusement. During the afternoon the sun had shone through a cloudless sky; but just before this terrible scene was enacted, the heavens were draped with heavy clouds, and the rain fell in torrents, casting a gloom on all around. The wretched victim ascended the gallows with a firm tread, and addressed a few words, in a fearless tone, to those assembled around. As the rope was being adjusted around his neck, the crowd involuntarily gave way, showing that, although they had been clamorous for the enactment of the scene, yet when the time came, they had not the nerve to witness the death-struggle of their victim. There was but little movement of the body after the fatal drop fell. This last scene was sickening in the extreme, and all of us, moved by a common impulse, turned and walked away in silence, our hearts being too full for utterance.