Thirteen months in the Rebel Army

by William G. Stevenson

The Arkansas authorities, fearing the power of the Federal forces, required all the troops from their State to return home and protect their own citizens. General Hindman, who commanded the Arkansas troops, was in favor of returning to their own State; but Beauregard, as commander-in-chief of the Western army, resisted the demand. Excitement ran high, and mutiny was imminent for some days. Nothing but the resolute bearing of General Beauregard, threatening to shoot the first man who should attempt to leave, saved the Rebel army from destruction; for if the troops of one State had been allowed to withdraw on the plea of protecting their own borders, why should not all? This was well-understood, and hence resisted resolutely and successfully. At a later day, and as if in pursuance of a general plan, the Arkansas troops did go home; and thus they avoided a mutiny, which, had it been fully developed, would have involved at least 10,000 men. So rigid is the surveillance of the press, that no publication, so far as I know, was ever made of this affair, which threatened the disintegration of the whole Rebel army.

To return, we made some thirty miles, and ascending the Cumberland range in the evening, we again sought rest among the rocks. This we judged safest, since we knew not who might have seen us during the day, of an inquiring state of mind, as to our purpose and destination.

On the morning of June 4th, by a détour to conceal the course from which we came, and a journey of a dozen of miles, we reached the home of my wounded friend. I shall not attempt to describe his tearful, joyful meeting with his mother and three sisters, and the pride of the good old father as he folded his soldier-boy to his heart. My own emotions fully occupied me while their greetings lasted. I thought of my own fond mother, who had not heard from me for more than a year, and was perhaps then mourning me as dead, perchance had gone herself to the tomb in grief for the loss of her first-born son; of my reverend father, whose wise counsel I had often needed and longed for; of my sweet sisters and little brother, who every day wondered if their big brother still lived and would ever come home.

After a kindly greeting to the stranger who had brought home their wounded son, for they never suspected either that he had deserted or that I was escaping to the hated Yankees, they introduced me to all the comforts of their pleasant dwelling; and for the first time for many months I began to feel somewhat secure. Yet they were all Secessionists, and talked constantly of the success of the cause, and I must, of necessity, conceal my views and plans.

The day after our arrival, the wounded soldier took to his bed and never rose again. The hardships he had endured in the journey home, acting upon a system enfeebled by his wound, terminated in inflammation of the lungs, which within a week ended his life. I watched by his bed, nursed him carefully, and told him what little I knew of the better world, trying to recall all the sweet words of comfort I had heard pious people pour into the ears of dying ones in my childhood, when my father, as pastor, was often called to such scenes. I was not an experienced counselor, but I knew there was One Name of sovereign power. That Name I told him of as best I could. About the 12th of June he passed into the Dark Beyond.

After the funeral ceremonies wore over, a letter came from the other brother, detailing the manner in which they had been compelled to swear in for the war, and saying that he would soon be home. He had not reached when I left there. I fear he failed in his attempt.

But one more step was needed to make me safe; that was, to get within the Federal lines, take the oath of allegiance, and secure a pass. But how could this be accomplished? Should the Federal authorities suspect me of having been in the Rebel service, would they allow me to take the oath and go my way? I knew not; but well I knew the Confederate officers were never guilty of such an absurdity. Judging others by themselves, they put little confidence in the fact that A.B. has sworn to this or that; and hence they watch him as carefully after as before. The North should know that oaths taken by Southerners before provost-marshals, in recovered cities such as Memphis, Nashville, &c, are not taken to be observed, as a general rule. They are taken as a matter of necessity, and with a mental reservation, that when the interests of their State demands, they are freed from the obligation. That this is a startling statement I admit, and if called on for the proof I might find it difficult to produce it; and yet from what I saw and heard scores of times, and in different parts of the South, I know it to be indubitably true.

An incident which occurred about the 20th of June, both endangered my escape and yet put me upon the way of its accomplishment. I rode my pet Selim into the village of McMinnville, a few miles from the place of my sojourn, to obtain information as to the proximity of the Federal forces, and, if possible, devise a plan of getting within their lines without exciting suspicion. As Selim stood at the hotel, to the amazement of every one, General Dumont's cavalry galloped into town, and one of the troopers taking a fancy to my horse, led him off without my knowledge, and certainly without my consent. My only consolation was, that my noble Selim was now to do service in the loyal ranks. My best wish for my good steed is, that he may carry some brave United States officer over the last prostrate foe of this ever-glorious Union.

The cavalry left the town in a few hours, after erecting a flag-staff and giving the Stars and Stripes to the breeze. Within a few days a squad of Morgan's cavalry came in, cut down the staff, and one of them rolling up the flag and strapping it behind his saddle, left word where General Dumont could see the flag if he chose to call.

I left soon after the Federals did, but in an opposite direction, with my final plan perfected. Spending two or three days more with my kind friends on the farm, I saddled my remaining horse, and telling the family I might not return for some time, I rode through McMinnville, and then direct for Murfreesboro, at that time in possession of the Union forces. When hailed by the pickets, a mile from the town, I told them I wished to see the officer in command. They directed me where to find him, and allowed me to advance. They knew far less of Southern cunning than I did, or they would not have allowed me to ride into the town without a guard. When I found the officer, I stated that some Federal cavalry had taken my horse in McMinnville a few days ago, and I wished to recover him. He told me he could give me no authority to secure my horse, unless I would take the oath of allegiance to the United States. To this I made no special objection. With a seeming hesitation, that I might wake up no suspicion of being different from the masses of farmers in that region, and yet with a joy that was almost too great to be concealed, I solemnly subscribed the following oath: