The Life and Work of James A. Garfield, Twentieth President of the United States / Embracing an Account of the Scenes and Incidents of His Boyhood; the Struggles of His Youth; the Might of His Early Manhood; His Valor As a Soldier; His Career As a Statesman; His Election to the Presidency; and the Tragic Story of His Death.

by John Clark Ridpath

“‘I will.’

“The Colonel recalled what had passed in his own mind when poring over his mother’s Bible that night at his home in Ohio, and it decided him. ‘Very well,’ he said; ‘I will trust you.’”

Armed with a carbine and a brace of revolvers, Jordan mounted the swiftest horse in the regiment, and was off at midnight. The dispatch was written on tissue paper, then folded closely into a round shape, and coated with lead to resemble a bullet. The carrier rode till daylight, then hitched his horse in the timber, and went to a house where he knew he would be well received. The lord of that house was a soldier in Marshall’s little army, who served the Union there better than he could have done with a blue coat on. The lady of the house was loyal in a more open manner. Of course, the rebels knew of this mission, as they had spies in Garfield’s camp, and a squad of cavalry were on Jordan’s trail. They came up with him at this house; hastily giving the precious bullet to the woman, he made her swear to see that it reached its destination, and then broke out toward the woods. Two horsemen were guarding the door. To get the start of them, as the door opened, he brandished a red garment before the horses, which scared them so that they were, for a moment, unmanageable. In an instant he was over the fence. But the riders were gaining. Flash, went the scout’s revolver, and the one man was in eternity! Flash, again, and the other man’s horse fell! Before the rest of the squad could reach the spot, Jordan was safely out of their power. That night the woman who had sheltered him carried the dispatch, and a good meal, to a thicket near by, whither she was guided by the frequent hooting of an owl! And, after a ride of forty miles more, with several narrow escapes, the Colonel of the Forty-second at last read his orders from a crumpled piece of tissue paper. As for Jordan, he was back in Garfield’s tent again two weeks later; but the faithful animal that carried him had fallen, pierced by a rebel ball.

What, meanwhile, had been the progress of Garfield’s forces in their attempt to reach Paintville? On the morning of December 23d, the first day’s march began. The rains of the preceding days had been stopped by extreme cold, and the hills were icy and slippery. The night before this march very few of the men had slept; but, instead of that, had crouched around camp-fires to keep from freezing. During the day they only advanced ten miles. In half that distance, one crooked little creek, which wound around in a labyrinth of coils, was crossed no less than twenty-six times. This was slow progress, but the following days were slower still. Provisions were scarce. Most of the wagon-train and equipments had been loaded on boats to be taken up the river, and the supplies that had started with them were far in the rear. To meet their necessities, the men captured a farmer’s pigs and poultry without leave. But Garfield was no plunderer; he was a true soldier; and, after reprimanding the offenders, he repaid the farmer.

On the 27th, a squad of Marshall’s men were encountered, and two men captured. The next day the compliment was returned, and three Union soldiers became unwilling guests of the too hospitable South. Thus slowly advancing, in spite of bad weather and bad roads, skirmishing daily with the enemy, as the opposing forces neared each other, on the 6th day of January, 1862, the Eighteenth Brigade, except that portion which was coming from Paris, was encamped within seven miles of Paintville; and at last it had become possible to bring things to a crisis, and determine, by the solemn wager of battle, who was entitled to this portion of Kentucky.

Up to this time, Garfield had been moving almost in the dark. He did not know what had become of his message to Cranor; he did not know the exact position of his enemy; he did not know the number of the enemy. Now we shall see good fortune and good management remedy each of these weaknesses in a single day.

Harry Brown had been a canal hand with Garfield in 1847, and the latter, with his genial ways, had made Brown his friend. At this time, Brown was a kind of camp-follower, and not very well trusted by the officers. But he knew the region well where these operations were going on, and hearing that his old comrade was commander, he hastened to offer his services as a scout. Garfield accepted, told him what he wanted, and through him learned very accurately the situation of the Confederate forces. On the night of the sixth, Jordan also appeared on the scene, with the information that Cranor was only two days’ march behind. To crown all, a dispatch came from Buell, on the morning of the seventh, with a letter which had been intercepted. This letter was from Humphrey Marshall to his wife, and revealed the fact that his force was less than the country people, with their rebel sympathies, had represented. It was determined to advance that day and attack the enemy at Paintville, where about one-third of them were posted.

OPERATIONS IN WEST VIRGINIA.

This attack on Paintville was a hazardous enterprise. In main strength, Marshall was so superior that Garfield’s only hope was in devising some plan to outwit him. From the point of starting, there were three accessible paths; one on the west, striking Painter Creek opposite the mouth of Jenny Creek, three miles to the right, from the place to be attacked; one on the east, approaching that point from the left; and a third road, the most difficult of the three, straight across. Rebel pickets were thrown out on each road. Marshall was prepared to be attacked on one road, but never dreamed of a simultaneous approach of the enemy on all at once; and it was this misapprehension which defeated him. First, a small detachment of infantry, supported by cavalry, attacked on the west, whereupon almost the entire rebel force was sent out to meet them. Shortly, a similar advance was made on the east, and the enemy retraced their steps for a defense in that direction. While they were thus held, the remaining Union force drove in the pickets of the central path, who, finding the village empty, rushed on three miles further, to a partially fortified place where Marshall himself was waiting. Thinking that Paintville was lost, he hastily ordered all his forces to retreat, which they did, as far as this fortified camp. Garfield entered Paintville at the same time, having with him the Forty-second Ohio, Fourteenth Kentucky, and four hundred Virginia cavalry.