H 

 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 AT LOS ANGELES
 
 DOWN IF TENNESSEE.
 
 Edmund Kirke's Books. 
 
 All neat 12mos, handsomely bound in cloth. 
 
 I. 
 
 Among the Pines, 
 
 ii. 
 My Southern Friends, 
 
 in. 
 Down in Tennessee, 
 
 *.* Single copies sent by mail, postage free, by 
 
 Carleton, Publisher, 
 
 New York.
 
 DOWN 
 
 IN TENNESSEE, 
 
 JLND 
 
 BACK BY WAY OF RICHMOND. 
 
 EDMUND KIRKE, 
 
 AUTUOB OF "AMONG THE PINKS," "MY SOUTHERN FKIENDS," ETC. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 CARLETON, PUBLISHER, 413 BROADWAY. 
 
 M.DCCC.LXV.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S64, 
 BY J. R. G1LMORE, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the 
 Southern District of New York. 
 
 M'OEEA A MILLER, STEREOTYPED, c. A. ALVOKD, PRINTER.
 
 TO 
 
 SIDNEY HOWARD GAY, 
 
 r 
 
 Tj THESE SKETCHES 
 
 Z , ARE DEDICATED 
 
 WITH THE TEUE AND EARNEST REGARD 
 
 J 
 
 HIS FRIEND, 
 . THE AUTHOR. 
 
 443367
 
 CONTENTS, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAQl 
 
 AT LOUISVILLE 9 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 ON THE ROAD 23 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 GUERILLAS 35 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 THE UNION SCOUT 45 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 THE NASHVILLE PRISON - 59 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 THE ARMY CHAPLAIN 70 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 THE CAPTAIN'S STORY 83 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 THE POOR WHITE MAN 104 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 THE OLD NEGRO'S STORY 122 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 THE REGIMENTAL HOSPITAL 134 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 THE MAN WHO "DON'T SURRENDER MUCH." 139
 
 O CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. PAGE 
 
 BIBLE SMITH 144 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 BIBLE'S STOEY. 158 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 BIBLE'S SCOUTING ADVENTURES 169 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 THE "POOR WHITES" 182 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 A DAT WITH ROSECRANS 196 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 VIEWS OF SOUTHERN MEN 219 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 A PROJECTED INSURRECTION 229 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 COLONEL JAMES F. JAQUESS 233 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 ON THE WAT TO RICHMOND 248 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 IN RICHMOND 262 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 OUR LAST DAT IN DIXIE 279
 
 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AT LOUISVILLE. 
 
 A DESIRE to study the undercurrents of popular sentiment at 
 the South, and to meet some of "my Southern friends," whom 
 the fortunes of war had made our prisoners within sight 
 of their homes, led me, early in May, 1863, to visit the 
 Southwest. While there I came in contact with many intelli- 
 gent men, of all shades of political opinion ; and from them 
 gathered much that is illustrative of the real state of Southern 
 feeling, and of the real purposes of the leaders of the Rebellion. 
 In the hope that what I saw and heard may not be without in- 
 terest to those who have not had the opportunity of personal 
 observation, I propose to give in the following chapters some 
 sketches of the men I met, and the scenes I witnessed, during 
 a month's sojourn in a section which is being upheaved by the 
 passions and desolated by the fires of our civil war. 
 
 Arriving at Louisville I at once sought out Colonel Mundy, 
 the gentlemanly commandant of that post, to ascertain the 
 whereabouts of my captive friends. He could give me no 
 definite information, but presumed they were at Nashville. 
 " However," he said, "prisoners are not kept there long. They 
 1*
 
 10 DOWNJN TENNESSEE. 
 
 arc sent to Vicksburg for exchange as quickly as possible. If 
 you desire to see them, you had better push on immediately." 
 
 This put me in a dilemma. The railroad below Bowling 
 Green was infested with guerillas, and on several recent oc- 
 casions, they had assailed the trains, and robbed'and maltreated 
 passengers. The cars were insufficiently guarded, and travelling 
 was therefore attended with considerable personal hazard. In 
 these circumstances I had gladly listened to the suggestion of 
 Parson Brownlow whom I had met at Cincinnati to lie over 
 at Louisville and accompany him and Governor Johnson to 
 Nashville. They would be attended by a guard strong enough 
 to beat off any roving band that ventured to attack the train ; 
 but would, perhaps, not start for a week. In the mean time, 
 my Secession friends might be sent to " parts unknown." 
 Therefore, if I waited, I was likely to miss one of the main ob- 
 jects of my journey, and if I went forward I ran the risk of 
 getting a bullet under my waistcoat, or such an "inside view" 
 of Rebeldom as might not be agreeable. Either horn of the 
 dilemma seemed objectionable. While uncertain which one to 
 choose, the small clock in the office of the Louisville Hotel 
 sounded twice, and I walked up to the dining-room. 
 
 On my right at the table sat a tall, squarely built man, 
 wearing the uniform of a lieutenant-colonel of infantry. He 
 had a broad, open, resolute face ridged and sun-browned, and 
 a stiff, military air, but there was something about him that 
 seemed to invite conversation, and after a while I said to him : 
 
 " Yo i are travelling, Sir ?" 
 
 " Yes, Sir, I am returning to my regiment at Triune." 
 
 " Is it entirely safe going down the Nashville road ? 
 
 "Not entirely so. When I came up, a week ago Monday,
 
 AT LOUISVILLE. 11 
 
 we were fired into by a band of forty-eight, but we beat them 
 off." 
 
 " What were the circumstances?" 
 
 " It occurred just this side of Franklin. We heard there of 
 a party being in the vicinity, and took on board a squad of 
 thirty men. We had gone on about three miles, when the 
 engineer discovered the track was torn up, where a wood lines 
 the road, and at once reversed the engine. The guerillas were 
 posted behind the trees, and as the train halted, poured a volley 
 into us, and, yelling like devils, made a rush for the cars. I 
 got this in readiness" taking from his belt a large army 
 repeater, and tapping it rather affectionately " the moment I 
 heard the train slacking-up, and when the leader came within 
 fifteen feet of the platform I fired through the window and 
 killed him. My second shot brought the next devil to his 
 knees, and made the rest halt for an instant. In that instant 
 the soldiers in the forward car, who had waited to cap their 
 muskets, gave them a volley, and they skedaddled, leaving four 
 dead and three wounded on the ground. We had on board 
 three paymasters with over four hundred thousand dollars in 
 money, and the fellows might have made a rich haul." 
 
 " And they would have done so but for your prompt shots 
 giving the soldiers time to fire. You saved the train !" 
 
 " No, Sir," replied the Colonel, pleasantly, as if not displeased 
 with my compliment, "the General saved it." 
 
 " How so ? Was Rosecrans on board ?" 
 
 " No ; but a little while ago he ordered all officers to wear 
 side-arms when off duty. But for that my pistol would have 
 been in my valise ; for it's a nuisance to carry ten pounds of 
 iron all the while dangling at your side. The General foresaw
 
 12 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 just such emergencies. He thinks of every thing, Sir. I reckon 
 he never sleeps." 
 
 " I suppose he is a vigilant officer." 
 
 " Yes, Sir ; I was all through the Mexican war, and have seen 
 something of generals. Rosecrans is the ablest one I ever 
 knew." 
 
 " He certainly is successful." 
 
 " Always ; never was defeated, and never will be. He plan- 
 ned and won MeClellan's battles in Western Virginia ; did the 
 same for Grant in Mississippi, and at Stone River why, Sir, 
 when we were thoroughly whipped, and every man in the army 
 knew it, he, singly, regained the battle. There is not another 
 man living who could have done it." 
 
 This was said with an enthusiasm that provoked a smile ; but 
 I quietly remarked : " I am glad to hear such an account of 
 him. I intend to visit him, but am undecided whether to go 
 down at once, or to Avait till the Governor arrives, and take ad- 
 vantage of his escort." 
 
 " It will be safer to go at once. The Governor will stay here 
 a day or two, and as this place is full of rebels, every guerilla 
 in Tennessee will know when he starts. If they can muster 
 strong enough they'll surely attack him. I go down by the 
 next train, and will be glad to have your company." 
 
 " Thank you. Your revolver has acquitted itself so well, 
 that I am disposed to trust it. I'll go with you, Sir ;" and 
 rising, we left the table together. 
 
 The cars were not to start till the following morning, and the 
 afternoon being on our hands, we seated ourselves in the smok- 
 ing room, and resumed the conversation. I soon gleaned some- 
 thing of the Colonel's history. He had started in life with
 
 AT LOUISVILLE. 13 
 
 only a clear head and a strong pair of hands, but was then the 
 owner of a well-stocked farm of three hundred and twenty 
 acres, and in affluent circumstances. His experience in Mexico 
 had given him a military education, and on the breaking out of 
 the war, Governor Morton tendered him a colonel's commission. 
 Having a young family growing up about him, and being past 
 the age when love of adventure lures men into danger, he de- 
 clined it. But when the new regiments were called for, and it 
 seemed doubtful that his county would furnish her quota, he 
 volunteered, to set, as he said, "the boys an example." His 
 regiment, the 82d Indiana, at once filled up, and he was ap- 
 pointed its lieutenant-colonel. He had been in many small 
 engagements, and at Stone River was in command of the six 
 hundred skirmishers who, at the close of the last day's fight, in 
 the darkness of midnight, advanced two miles, and for three 
 hours " felt" a hostile force of five thousand. So long as the 
 West sends such men to the war, the friends of the Union may 
 be of good heart, for they cannot be beaten. 
 
 After a time the conversation turned upon politics, and my 
 new acquaintance said to me : " A large majority of Rosecrans's 
 men went into the war friendly to slavery ; but not one of them 
 would now consent to any peace that did not destroy it root 
 and branch. Nine months ago I left home a Breckinridge 
 Democrat, and now, sir, I'm as black an Abolitionist as Wendell 
 Phillips." 
 
 " And what, pray, turned you about so suddenly ?" 
 
 " Seeing slavery as it is. One little incident convinced me 
 
 tha r a negro is a man just as much of one as I am and 
 
 therefore not fit to be a slave. It occurred at Triune, where 
 
 I am now stationed. Just outside of our lines lives a
 
 14: DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 planter who professes strong Union sentiments. He used to 
 mix freely with our officers, keep open house for them, and 
 was, apparently, a whole-souled, hospitable fellow. He owned 
 a good many negroes, and among them a quiet, respectaful old' 
 darky of about sixty, who supplied my mess with eggs and 
 poultry. Not long ago our pickets, stationed about one hun- 
 dred yards from this planter's house, were fired upon several 
 times from the woods near by. It was done regularly twice a 
 week, and on each occasion occurred about two o'clock in the 
 morning. At last one of our boys was hit, and, being in com- 
 mand of the pickets, I set about investigating the matter. 
 There was nothing to point suspicion at the planter, except the 
 fact of his being a slaveholder, but that convinced me he had a 
 hand in it. I never knew one of them, however strong his pro- 
 fessions of loyalty, who was not at heart a rebel. 
 
 " I sent for the old darky, to question him, and, learning 
 of it, the planter came to my quarters, and insisted that he had 
 a right to hear what his negro said. I was satisfied I couldn't 
 get the truth out of the slave in the master's presence, but I 
 consented to go on with the examination. I put some leading 
 questions to the old man, and in a quiet, straightforward way 
 he told me that an officer of Bragg's army had been in the 
 habit of visiting the mansion every few nights for several weeks. 
 He said he came about midnight, left his horse and orderly 
 concealed in the woods, and went up to the mistress's room f& 
 soon as he entered the house. There the master would join 
 him, and remain with him generally for an hour or two. And 
 he added, with perfect coolness : ' D'rec'ly af er de cap'n wud 
 leab, Sar, I'd allers yere de shootin' 'mong de trees. I reckoned 
 dat wus bery quar, till finarly, one day, I yered Massa a tellin'
 
 AT LOUISVILLE. 15 
 
 Missus dat de Cap'n war bound to wing one ob dem Yankees 
 anyhow.' I asked him why the officer went there, and the 
 old fellow, scratching his wool, and assuming a very stupid 
 look, said : 
 
 " ' I doesn't knows, Gunnel. It allers 'peared bery quar ter 
 me dat he shud come, but I reckons de Secesh wants ter larn 
 whot's gwine on in de camps. Massa, heseftj wus allers bery 
 curous 'bout dat, Sar, an' he sot me, ober an' ober agin, ter 
 fine out tole me I muss keep my yeres wide open wheneber I 
 toted you de truck ; but, you allers hab your moufh shet so 
 bery close, Gunnel, dat I neber could fine out a ting not a ting, 
 Sar.' " 
 
 Here the Colonel burst into a fit of laughter. As soon as he 
 could readjust the muscles of his mouth to the English dialect, 
 he continued : 
 
 " Through the whole of this, the planter threatened him, and 
 he finally stormed, and raved at him like a madman, but the 
 old Christian went on as quiet as a Quaker meeting, only once 
 in a while answering his master, with ' You knows it'm de 
 Lord's truf h, massa. I karn't say nuffin else, massa ; I'se bery 
 sorry, massa 'pears like I'd die fur you, massa, 'case I toted 
 you when you's a clule, an I'se allers lubed you ; but I karn't 
 say nuffin else de Lord woant lefF me say nuffin else, massa. 
 No, He woant !' 
 
 " The darky knew we might march at any moment, and that, 
 when we did, there were ninety-nine chances in a hundred of 
 his being whipped to death by his master, or by some of the 
 neighbors, if his master wasn't left to do it ; and yet he was as 
 cool as I am. Martin Luther, when he went into Worms, ex- 
 pecting to meet the devil himself, didn't show the moral
 
 16 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 courage of that old negro. He convinced me that the black 
 is altogether too much of a MAN to be a slave." 
 
 " And what did you do with the master ?" 
 
 " Nothing. Our Brigadier, who had been a frequent guest 
 at his house, thought it not exactly the thing to hang a white 
 man on a 'nigger's' testimony, and so let him off. If I ,had had 
 my way, he would have hung higher than Haman." 
 
 " And what became of the negro ?" 
 
 "Not many days after his master was released, he came to 
 my tent one evening, and with a little hesitation, said : ' Gunnel, 
 I don't want ter 'sturb you, but de Lord come ter me lass 
 night, Sar, an' he telled me ter leff you know what's a gwine 
 on.' 
 
 " And what is a going on ?" I asked. 
 
 " ' Wall, you see, Gunnel, de debil hab got inter massa ; an' 
 he swar he'rn gwine ter kill me fur tellin' you 'bout de Secesh 
 cap'n.' 
 
 " I assured him I would protect him, and accordingly, in a 
 day or two, I packed him off, with his traps and family, to the 
 Free States. It wasn't exactly according to Tennessee law, and 
 his owner protested warmly against it, but I advised him to 
 prove his loyalty and claim his property of Uncle Sara. 
 
 " The old darky lived in a little log cabin near his master's 
 house, and the day he was to leave I rode out to see him safely 
 off. His small amount of personal property was stowed away 
 in the ambulance, which was to take him to Nashville ; and his 
 wife, a good-looking mulatto (the old fellow himself was blacker 
 than ink) had already mounted the wagon. A pretty quadroon 
 woman of about thirty, who passed as his daughter though 
 she couldn't have been of his blood was helping on to the
 
 AT LOUISVILLE. I < 
 
 seat one of the most beautiful white children I ever saw. She 
 was well dressed, and had a fair, clear, rosy skin, and an eye as 
 blue as indigo. Supposing she was the master's child, I asked 
 her where she was going. 'Way up Norfh, massa, 'long wid 
 gran'dad,' she answered. 
 
 " I was thunderstruck. She was the old woman's grand- 
 child, the planter's own child, and a slave! I never till then 
 realized what an accursed thing slavery is." 
 
 While sauntering about the hotel during the day, 1 had 
 noticed a placard which read somewhat as follows : 
 
 " Passengers for the Louisville and Nashville road are notified 
 that the wagon will be in readiness to take baggage to the Ex- 
 aminer's Office at four p. M." 
 
 As this notice applied to us, I suggested, as the Colonel 
 finished his story, that we should repair to the "Custom 
 House." 
 
 We found it on a side street, a dingy room about twenty feet 
 square. It was densely crowded with carpet bags, portman- 
 teaus, packing trunks, and a score of German Israelites, each 
 one of whom was soliciting the immediate attention of the 
 single examining official to the general assortment of dry goods 
 and groceries which his particular trunk contained. Another 
 official was behind the counter affixing to the " passed " pack- 
 ages, a strip of white muslin, and two mammoth daubs of red 
 sealing wax. The office was advertised to close at five o'clock, 
 and it then wanted but ten minutes of that hour. As our 
 luggage could not leave the State without having two of those 
 red seals upon it, each duly stamped U. S.. the prospect of its 
 going in the morning seemed decidedly dubious. With a little
 
 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 HI ward trepidation, I said to the coatless official: "Is there 
 any probability of our turn coining this evening, sir?" 
 
 "Are you an ' Israelite indeed V " 
 
 " No, sir, neither in name nor in deed. Fm a gentleman at 
 large ; my friend here, is a Union officer." 
 
 " Ah, Colonel ! how are you ?" exclaimed the official, looking 
 up and touching his cap to my companion. The Colonel re- 
 turned his salutation, and in a moment the other was at the 
 bottom of my trunk, taking an inventory of the spare waist- 
 coats, extra socks, and under-garments which it contained. In 
 five minutes the ceremonies were over, and we left the " receipt 
 of customs" devoutly thankful that we were not of the wander- 
 ing tribes of Israel. The whole scene was decidedly suggestive 
 of a landing among the French or Austrian officials ; and it 
 was with difficulty I realized that I was in an inland American 
 town, and merely passing from one State of the Union to another. 
 
 As I was seated, after supper, in the porch of the hotel, en- 
 joying a fragrant Havana, and the cool evening breeze, a lean, 
 elongated " native" approacned me. He had a thin, haggard 
 face ; a tawny red skin ; and a mass of coarse black hair, which 
 fell round his neck, like hemp round a mop-handle. His butter- 
 nut clothes were much the worse for wear, and torn in many 
 places ; and the legs of his pantaloons, which made no effort to 
 reach the coarse brogans that encased his feet, disclosed a skin 
 so scratched and -furrowed that it seemed to have been g 
 over with a harrow. I had seen thousands of his class, bu. 
 there was a look of such intense wildness in his gray eyes, 
 which moved in their sockets with the unsteady glare of a wild 
 beast's, that I involuntarily stalled and turned toward him. 
 Seeing my movement, he said, in a quiet, civil tone :
 
 AT LOUISVILLE. 19 
 
 " How dy'ge, stranger ? Dy'ge b'long yere ?" 
 
 " No, Sir." 
 
 " B'long ter the army ?" (I wore a suit of regimental blue, 
 minus shoulder-straps and brass buttons.) 
 
 " No, Sir, I'm a peace man." 
 
 " Peace man ! Copperhead ?" and his eyes glared a little 
 more wildly than before. 
 
 " No, Sir, not exactly that, but I let others do the fighting." 
 
 " Ye does ! Wall, Sir, you uns is a cuss ter the kentry. Ye 
 orter be druv out uv hit. The man thet woant fight now 
 haint fit ter live." 
 
 " You're right, my friend. Sit down ;" and I motioned him 
 to a vacant chair beside me. lie continued standing, evidently 
 not inclined to approach nearer to a man of peace principles. 
 Observing this, I added : 
 
 " You misunderstand me I'm a peace man, but I fight in 
 my way with a pen." 
 
 " Oh ! thet's hit ? Wall, thet'll do, ef ye gwo hit powerful 
 strong." 
 
 " And how do you fight ?" 
 
 " Ary how ? The rebs '11 tell ye thet." 
 
 " But you don't wear the clothes ; how is that ?" 
 
 " Why, me an' twelve right smart uns hes been beatin' the 
 bushes keepin' the deestrict clar; but they's grow'd ter much 
 fur us." 
 
 " Oh ! bushwacking." 
 
 "Yas, but I hed ter put out. I'se gwine inter the army 
 now but I muss sell my mars fust. Dy'ge know whot Govern- 
 ment '11 pay fur a right smart chunk uv a mar ?" 
 
 " A hundred and five dollars, I believe, is the regular price."
 
 20 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 " Taint 'nuff fur mine. They's powerful good brutes. I 
 must git more'n thet, case my 'ooman '11 hev nothin' else, an' 
 she's sickly like." 
 
 " But if you go into the army you can save a part of your 
 pay for her." 
 
 " No, I karn't. I'll be shot I feel hit I'se made up my 
 mind ter hit." As he said this, he seated himself in the chair 
 I had offered him, and stared at me with a still wilder, crazier 
 look. I saw that some terrible calamity had unsettled his in- 
 tellect, and I said, in a sympathizing tone : 
 
 " You're not well : you're not fit to go into the army now." 
 
 " Yas, I is, Sir. I kin fight as hard as ary man ye knows. 
 I'se a little gin out jest now, 'case I'se rid nigh onter a 
 hundred an' fifty mile, an' hed ter tote my 'ooman a powerful 
 piece o' the way." 
 
 " Where have you come from ?" 
 
 " Clay county, nigh on ter Manchester. I lived thar. I'se 
 plumb from thar this evenin'." 
 
 " And were you driven away ?" 
 
 " Yes, Sir; druv away robbed hous'n burned every thing 
 burned, an' my ole mother killed killed ! killed !" He bent 
 down his head while he spoke, and as he repeated the last 
 words they seemed to well nigh strangle him. 
 
 "It can't be possible!" I exclaimed; "human beings don't do 
 such things !" 
 
 "But they haint human bein's they's fien's devils from 
 hell from hell, Sir." 
 
 " I know their passions are roused, but I did not know they 
 murdered women" 
 
 " They does, Sir. I'll tell ye 'bout hit ;" and grasping one
 
 AT LOUISVILLE. 21 
 
 arm of my chair, and leaning forward with his unsteady, blaz- 
 ing eye looking into mine, he told me the following story : 
 
 " 'Bout a mile from whar I b'long thar lived a ole man by 
 the name of Begley Squire Begley we called him, though he 
 didn't own no slaves. He wus nigh on ter seventy, but wus a 
 right peart ole man, an' Union ter the core two on his boys 
 Sam an' John, is in the army now 8th loyal Kaintuck. Wall, 
 'bout a fortnit gone, on the mornin' uv the fifteenth uv April, 
 three men, dressed in Union does, comes ter the ole gentle- 
 man's house, an' telled him they wus round raisin' a company 
 ter put down the rebs thet wus poreing inter the county. The 
 ole man wus mighty pleased, an' I reckon he wus unprudent in 
 his talk ; fur when they'd drawed him out, they telled him 
 they wus raally Secesh soldiers. Then he ordered 'em ter 
 leave, but they trottled him, an' dragged him off ter the edge 
 uv a branch, 'bout half a mile away, an' thar hung him ter the 
 limb uv a tree. A ole nig thet war passin' 'long the road heerd 
 the ole Squire's cries, as he begged 'em ter hev marcy on his 
 gray hars ; an' knowin' I war ter home, he put fur my house, 
 and telled me on it. I axed him ter tote my mars ter the 
 bush, fur I know'd thar wus more on 'em round, an' feared 
 they'd be arter the nags, and then I put off ter save the ole 
 man. I war too late. He war dead, an' the infernal devils 
 hed got nigh back ter his house, meanin' to steal his fillies an? 
 what plunder he hed thet could be toted. I follered' 'em an' 
 so soon as I come in distance, I drapped one on 'em. Then 
 me an' tothers tuk ahind trees, an' blazed away ter one another 
 fur more'n a hour. I winged one, but I got a ball yere," 
 showing an ugly wound in his shoulder. " Arter a while six 
 more on 'em rid up the road an' come at me. I seed it warnt
 
 22 DOWN IN 1ENNESSEEE. 
 
 no use, so I put fur the thick timber, an' finarly, ^ecin' they 
 couldn't kotch me, they guv up the chase. I know'd t wouldn't 
 do tor gwo home, so I made a long spell round, ahind a hill, 
 an' put for the bushes whar I thoil the ole darky'd be with the 
 mars. It hed got ter be nigh onter dark, an' I'd grow'd pow- 
 erful weak, on 'count uv the blood I'd let, so I sot down an' 
 tried ter stop it I hedn't sot long 'fore I thort I heerd a 
 'ooinan schreechin', an' lookin' round I seed my own wife. 
 She'd jest lost har baby, an' hedn't been out uv bed fur nigh a 
 month, but she'd come six mile through the brush arter me. 
 She couldn't speak, but she brung me a short piece from 
 ahind the hill, an' show'd me my hous'n an' barn all I hed in 
 the world a heap uv black an' ashes ! They'd burn'd 'em, 
 Sir, an' druv my sick wife, an' my ole mother, who'd been bed- 
 rid for more'n two year, out uv doors !" 
 
 He paused for a moment, and then in a slow, broken voice, 
 added : " Thet night she died. Died thar in the dark, an' 
 the cold nothin' under har but the yerth nothin' over har 
 but the ole gown thet my 'ooman helt up to keep the rain off 
 har face ; an' when I kneeled down thar on the ground ter yere 
 har last words, I swore, Sir, I'd never rest till Td drunk thar 
 blood the heart's blood uv every rebel in Kaintuck ! 
 
 " The next day the darky buried har. I couldn't be thar. 
 They wus huntin' me like a wild beast For more'n a week 
 me an' my sick wife lay out in the woods ; but we're yere 
 now, an' all I ax is ter sell my mars, an' git my 'ooman ter a 
 safe place, an' then I'll guv 'em whot they's guv'n me !" 
 
 From various sources I afterward received confirmation of 
 the native's story ; but it needed none ; for in the fierce passion 
 which blazed in his eyes, and lit up his haggard face, there was 
 nothing but TRUTH.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 ON THE ROAD. 
 
 THE next morning I started for Nashville. At the railway 
 depot I was again reminded that I might be entering the French 
 or Austrian dominions. At every turn my military passport 
 was called for. I offered to pay my fare, and, "Please show 
 your pass, Sir," greeted me from the small opening in the ticket 
 office. I tried to force my way through the crowd which 
 blocked the inner gateway of the station-house, and, " Please 
 show your pass, Sir," arrested my footsteps. I applied for a 
 check to my trunk, and, " Please show your pass, Sir," sounded 
 from the lungs of the luggage department. I attempted to get 
 upon the train, and, " Please show your pass, Sir," was echoed 
 by a slirn gentleman in shoulder-straps at the foot of the plat- 
 form ; and, finally, when congratulating myself that at least 
 one-fourth of my perilous passage was accomplished, " Please 
 show your pass, Sir," was smilingly repeated by a young man 
 in military cap and citizen's nether garments, who had halted 
 abreast of me in the aisle of the car. I drew it forth in 
 despair. 
 
 " Will this never end ?" I exclaimed, in evident ill-nature. 
 
 "Oh yes, Sir. We'll not trouble you again till we reach 
 Nashville. It is annoying, Sir ; but absolutely necessary." 
 
 The car, when we entered, was already packed with a general
 
 24 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 assortment of Kentucky jeans, butternut linseys, regimental 
 blues, regulation buttons, and shoulder straps ; but a single, 
 .timid-looking woman in the corner, and a small sprinkling of 
 civilians among the soldiery, told plainly that none of our fel- 
 low-travellers were leaving home on a pleasure excursion. 
 
 Near the forward door were a number of citizens, who, 
 politely displacing some pieces of luggage, invited the Colonel 
 and myself to squeeze ourselves into seats by the side of two 
 fat men in secession gray, who turned out to be planters from 
 Western Tennessee. They were of a party of neighbors, who 
 had been to Louisville together, and were then returning to 
 their homes. 
 
 As the train moved off from the station, one of them said to me: 
 
 "You're from the North, Sir?" 
 
 "Yes, Sir." 
 
 " Things are rather disturbed with je jest now aren't they! 
 That Vallandigham affair is creating some trouble ?" 
 
 " Not much, Sir the best ale will foam ; it is only a little 
 froth on the surface." 
 
 " It seems to me it's more than froth," said my right-hand 
 neighbor. " I reckon your people are about tired of the war. 
 If the Democrats were in power, they'd stop it." 
 
 " How would they stop it ?" 
 
 " By letting the South go. I'm a Union man, Sir, but I've 
 had enough of the war I want peace. You people at the 
 North know nothing about it. "We're robbed by both sides ; 
 we can't stir out of our houses in safety; I never wake in the 
 morning but I fear the day will be my last." 
 
 " It is a sad state of things, no doubt ; but I fear it will con- 
 tinue till the South submits."
 
 ON THE ROAD. 25 
 
 " Then it will last forever," exclaimed another planter, who 
 sat facing me. " The South will never submit, Sir ! It will 
 never come back ! Every Southern man will die first." 
 
 "Allow me to ask if you're not a slaveholder?" said the Col- 
 onel, leaning forward, and smilingly addressing the last speaker. 
 
 " Yes, Sir ; I own some twenty negroes." 
 
 " I thought so. I never heard a man with less than that 
 number express such sentiments." 
 
 " But I own more, and I'm not of that opinion," said the 
 quiet gentleman beside the Colonel. " I would be glad to see 
 the South back." 
 
 " You're not a native, Sir." 
 
 " No, Sir ; but I've done business here for thirty years. My 
 friend, the Doctor here," pointing to another gentleman, sitting 
 opposite to me, " is a native, and a slaveholder, and as rabid 
 on the Union as I am." 
 
 " And how many slaves have you, Doctor," asked the Colonel, 
 with another of his pleasant smiles. 
 
 " Only two quarters of one, Sir, an old man and a woman, 
 who were playmates of my mother," answered the medical man. 
 
 " I thought so," said the Colonel, quietly. 
 
 " Come gentlemen," I exclaimed, laughing, " as the Colonel 
 thinks the number of darkies a man owns a sort of political 
 barometer, suppose we take a census at once." 
 
 My suggestion was received good-naturedly, and in five min- 
 utes I had the statistics. The corpulent planter, who expected 
 each day would be his last, had seventy odd; the Northern 
 born merchant had twenty-seven ;. the doctor, two, and the 
 others, respectively, one hundred and nine, sixty-two, twenty- 
 four, and twenty-one ; the latter number representing the inter- 
 2
 
 26 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 est the belligerent planter had in the peculiar institution. A 
 half-hour's desultory conversation followed, and during it each 
 one, except my right-hand neighbor, and the " No submission" 
 man, expressed a willingness to sacrifice his chattels to save the 
 Union. 
 
 " Ah, Colonel," I exclaimed, as I learned the sentiments of 
 the last of the party, " you are floored your theory won't 
 stand fire." 
 
 " Perhaps it won't," he replied, dryly. 
 
 More extended observation subsequently convinced me that 
 his views are fully supported by general facts. 
 
 As the planter of secession proclivities was rather warmly 
 combating my views on the Emancipation Proclamation, a sin- 
 gularly self-possessed, gentlemanly-looking man, of about fifty, 
 approached us, and leaning against the arm of the opposite seat, 
 accosted me as follows : 
 
 " And when the South is subdued, and the war is over, what 
 will you do with four millions of emancipated blacks ?" 
 
 " Set them at work, and pay them." 
 
 " And would you, a white man, consent to live where every 
 second citizen is a black, and your political and social equal ?" 
 
 "Freedom of itself, Sir, will not make the black my equal. 
 At the North he is not politically or socially on a par with 
 the white, and there he has had fifty years of freedom." 
 
 " But your black is inferior to ours. The negro is of a trop- 
 ical race ; he comes to perfection only under a warm sun." 
 
 " If that be true, your negroes are fit for freedom, for our 
 blacks are as orderly, industrious, and quietly disposed as any 
 class we have." 
 
 The new-comer was about to reply, when the Doctor, turning
 
 ON THE KOAD. 27 
 
 to him, said : " Colonel, you consider our whites superior to our 
 blacks ; do you not ?'' 
 
 " Certainly I do," 
 
 " Then give the blacks freedom ; subject them to free com- 
 petition with the poor whites, and you'll soon be rid of them, 
 for they'll die out. The Indian is naturally superior to the 
 negro, but two centuries of contact with the white man the 
 Indian being/ree has reduced the race from sixteen millions 
 to two millions. Set the black free, leave him to himself, and 
 his fate will be the same." 
 
 " Then slavery keeps the race alive among us ?" 
 
 " Of course it does ; for, while the black labors for us, we 
 feed, and clothe, and think for him ; and, besides and this is 
 the principal reason we are constantly infusing fresh white 
 blood into his veins. That would not be if he were free, for 
 the black does not seek the white, but the white the black." 
 
 " You have stated the strongest argument for Slavery that I 
 ever heard. You say it will save the black, and yet, while you 
 admit that freedom would destroy him, you would set him free !" 
 
 " I would to save the whites. The social and political cor- 
 ruption which absolute control of him has bred among us, is 
 destroying us. It has produced the present state of things, and 
 God is using this war the fruit of our corruption to purify 
 us. He has written on the wall any man can read it " Slav- 
 ery is doomed !" 
 
 "/cannot read it, and I do not believe a good and just God 
 ever decrees the destruction of his creatures." 
 
 " Has he not destroyed other races ? He works by general 
 laws, and one of the plainest of His laws is, that the -weak shall 
 give way to the strong, the inferior race to the superior. There
 
 28 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 is no hardship in this. Every man submits cheerfully to it 
 the old give up their places to the young the father dies, and 
 the son succeeds him, and nobody grumbles. We have ob- 
 structed the operation of this law on the black race, and now, 
 in tears and blood, we are paying the penalty." 
 
 " You bookish men can spin fine thec ~ies, but we have to deal 
 with facts, and hard facts at that. ? 
 
 " I have formed my theory on facts, Colonel, hard and black 
 facts, too," replied the Doctor, laughing. 
 
 " But you never loved the slaves never had them love you, 
 as mine love me. When Grant's army was at Memphis I told 
 them they would be free if they went to it, and not one of them 
 left me." 
 
 " That only proves, what everybody knows, that you are a 
 kind master ; and that your negroes would work cheerfully for 
 you, if they were free." 
 
 " Well, there's no use talking to you ; you're an incorrigible 
 Abolitionist; but come, Squire," addressing my right hand 
 neighbor, " exchange seats with me. I want to talk with this 
 Northern gentleman, and I can't stand this any longer." The 
 cars were jolting considerably, and his position was not an easy 
 one. The fat planter rose, and the other seated himself beside 
 me. As he did so, I said to him : 
 
 " I never discuss slavery, Sir ; it's a waste of words." 
 
 " I don't wish to discuss it, Sir ; I want to ask you the real 
 state of public feeling at the North. Where do you live, Sir?" 
 
 This was spoken in a tone which showed he was accustomed 
 to a good deal more deference than is yielded to the ordinary 
 run of planters. I quietly gave my name and residence, and 
 asked him for his.
 
 ON THE KOAD. 29 
 
 "George W. H , of H Springs, near Clarksville, 
 
 Tennessee." 
 
 " Your name is familiar to me, Sir ; I formerly knew General 
 
 H , of South Carolina he whose son commands the 
 
 H Legion." 
 
 " He was a near kinsman of mine. We're all of the old Vir- 
 ginia family." 
 
 He then went on to ask me a multitude of questions about 
 the condition of things at the North. I answered frankly, and 
 he listened attentively, but made no comment when I expressed 
 the opinion that the mass of our people would never consent to 
 the re-establishment of slavery. 
 
 * * * * * * * 
 
 We were entering a beautiful region, where the thick grass 
 was waving in the meadows, the early flowers were blooming by 
 the road sides, and the spring birds were singing in the great 
 old trees ; but where the rich, red soil lay unturned by the 
 plough, the stalks of the Autumn corn stood rotting on the 
 ground, and ruin and desolation stared at us from every thing. 
 Broken fences, wasted fields, deserted plantations, dismantled 
 dwellings, and now and then, a burned woods, or a charred 
 chimney, standing a lonely sentinel over a weedy garden, or amid 
 a blackened grove, told that the whirlwind of war had passed 
 that way, and left only ravage and devastation in its path. A 
 ragged woman, looking out from a wretched hovel ; a solitary 
 man, lingering around a heap of ashes and crumbling bricks that 
 might once have been his home, or a group of half-clad negro 
 children, gambolling on the porch, or lolling lazily on the lawn 
 of some deserted homestead, that still looked down in faded 
 grandeur on the ruin around it, were the only indications of
 
 30 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 human existence, and the only remnants of a once peaceful and 
 happy population. It was one of the most lovely regions of 
 the earth, naked, but beautiful even in its nakedness. I called 
 the attention of my new acquaintance to its appearance, and he 
 remarked : " No portion of this wide country has so fine a cli- 
 mate, or so rich and fertile a soil. Before we reached Elizabeth- 
 town, we passed through what is called the ' bed of the Ohio' 
 a white clay region, heavily timbered, but deficient in iron and 
 lime, and devoted mainly to grazing. Now, we are ascending 
 an elevated plateau of red clay, rich in every thing except ammo- 
 nia, and producing, almost spontaneously, enormous crops of 
 wheat, rye, corn, hemp, blue grass, and tobacco. At Bowling 
 Green this plateau is broken by irregular ridges that spring out 
 from the Cumberland Mountains, and sink into the lower 
 lands bordering the Mississippi. They give a more beautiful 
 diversity t^ the surface, but the character of the soil continues 
 the same, as, indeed, it does over nearly the whole of this State 
 (Kentucky) and Tennessee. Anywhere in this region the sub- 
 soil, turned up by the plough, and exposed for a short time to 
 the action of the air, becomes a manure almost as valuable as 
 guano. These two States, Sir, were meant by nature to be the 
 garden of this continent. Adam when he first woke in Eden, 
 did not look on a more beautiful landscape, or a more luxuriant 
 vegetation, than is everywhere spread around you; but now 
 what has war done ! A curse has fallen on these once happy 
 homes the 'abomination of desolation' sits in these pleasant 
 places." 
 
 " But the day will soon come, Sir, when free labor, free 
 schools, and free men will people this region, and make it in 
 reality, the paradise which GOD designed it should be."
 
 ON THE EOAD. 31 
 
 " We cannot foresee the end, Sir, but my heart sickens when 
 I think of what it may be these old homesteads dismantled, 
 these rich plantations cut into little plats of a half dozen acres, 
 and divided among the negroes, or squatted on by a vulgar herd 
 of Irish and Germans. I hope I may not live to see it, Sir ; 
 but let even that come rather than disunion and the perpetual 
 war that would follow." 
 
 " And are you a Union man, Sir !" I exclaimed in pleased 
 surprise. "I feared from what you said of slavery, that you 
 were not." 
 
 " Union, sir ! my Unionism has been tried ; it has stood the 
 test every test but death ; and I am ready to meet that for it. 
 I believe in slavery ; I think it the normal condition of the 
 black race ; I know my negroes are happier than they would 
 be in freedom ; and I love them, sir. But I love my children 
 better. I do Hot want to leave them a heritage of endless war: 
 and therefore, I am willing to abolish slavery, if the Union can- 
 not be saved without it." 
 
 " You must have suffered greatly, Sir, living as you do, in a 
 section where the secession element is so strong." 
 
 " I have. My plantation has been sacked, my life has been 
 threatened every relative I have in the world has turned against 
 me. A committee waited on me, just before the June (1861) 
 election, and told me that fifty ropes were ready to hang me if 
 I did not cease my Union talk, and vote the separation ticket. 
 With two of my negroes, armed to the teeth, I went to the 
 polls, and defied them. I voted ' No Separation.' Then they 
 dragged me and Judge Catron before the Military Commission 
 at Nashville. They questioned us, and ordered us to leave the 
 State. The Judge consented, bu^[ charged them with sending
 
 32 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 us away because they had changed, while we had not, and I 
 told them to their faces that' I would not go that I would die 
 first. One of my near kinsman was on the Commission, and I 
 accused him of being recreant to every principle of our ancestors. 
 He only answered, Til not argue that question with you. We 
 may be wrong, but we're embarked in this thing ; our lives are 
 at stake, and self-preservation, which makes a man sacrifice his 
 dearest friend to save himself, impels us to go on. We cannot 
 turn back.' It is that feeling which holds the leaders together. 
 After that, my wife entreated me, and I am ashamed to say it, 
 I was less outspoken. But I was a marked man ; they annoyed 
 me and plundered me in every way. At one time they quartered 
 a whole regiment upon me. I went out and told them : ' You 
 are ray neighbors ; I love you, and would not kill you, but I curse 
 you. I curse you for the ruin you are bringing on your country.' 
 God heard me, Sir, and that curse rested on them. Out of the 
 fifteen hundred that went to Richmond, only two hundred were 
 left when Grant took Memphis ! The rest had answered the 
 muster-roll in eternity ! Then every man felt justified in taking 
 my life. I walked every day arm-in-arm with death. I was 
 waylaid, shot at, my well was poisoned. How I escaped, the 
 Providence that guarded me only knows. When the soldiers 
 left, society became reduced to a state of anarchy a struggle 
 for self-preservation. Brothers turned against brothers, parents 
 against children, children against parents. No man was safe. 
 Even my friend Shackelford, law partner of Gustavus A. Henry, 
 member of the Confederate Senate, was threatened with death. 
 At the outset he had gone with the current, and hia only son 
 had volunteered ; but when he saw the ruin which Secession 
 was bringing on his section,^e applied to Henry for the young
 
 ON THE ROAD. 33 
 
 man's release. An order was at once issued for his own arrest, 
 and he only escaped by fleeing the State. No words can pic- 
 ture to you, Sir, the state of things that existed. All that Dante 
 and Milton have told us of hell falls short of what we expe- 
 rienced." 
 
 " And through all this you stood true to the Union ! I 
 honor you, Sir; from the bottom of my soul, I honor you." 
 
 " You need not, for I knew their plans. I knew that all 
 their talk about the extension and perpetuation of slavery is 
 mere sham, to cover their real designs, which are to subvert re- 
 publican institutions, and found a bastard monarchy on the 
 ruins of their country ! I loved slavery, Sir. I love it still ; 
 but even to save it I could not aid in overthrowing the institu- 
 tions founded by my fathers. I could not lift my puny arm in 
 opposition to the manifest designs of God, which are that all 
 men shall be free and equal" 
 
 I did not ask him why the blacks had been overlooked in 
 the designs of DEITY ; I merely remarked : " And are you sat- 
 isfied that such are the intentions of the rebel leaders ? I know 
 that Spratt, and other Southern theorists, advocate monarchy as 
 the only government compatible with slavery ; but I have not 
 supposed your practical statesmen had adopted such views." 
 
 " They have. Those ideas are the main-spring of the Rebel- 
 lion. But for them it would never have been undertaken. I 
 know it. The whole scheme was opened to me. If it had not 
 been I should have gone with the current. I could not other- 
 wise have stemmed it. The English and French governments 
 know it, and that is the reason the rebels have so much sympa- 
 thy from them. They have kept the design carefully out of 
 sight ; only the ringleaders have been in the secret, for they 
 
 O -V:
 
 34 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 knew that if the masses discovered it before they had them 
 bound hand and foot by military despotism, the whole jig was 
 up." 
 
 He paused, for just then the engine-whistle sounded shrilly 
 through the trees, the train broke up, every man in the car 
 sprang to his feet, and a dozen voices cried out : 
 
 " The guerillas are on us !" 
 
 " Are you armed, Sir ?" said my new acquaintance to me, 
 as coolly as if we were at his dinner-table. 
 
 " No, Sir, I am not." 
 
 " Take this ; it may be useful." 
 
 Cocking the revolver, and giving one thought to those I had 
 left at home, I seated myself, and breathlessly awaited the ex- 
 pected assault.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 GUERILLAS. 
 
 As the train came to a halt, the Doctor, who had been en- 
 joying a quiet nap, opened his eyes, and asked : 
 
 "What's to pay?" 
 
 " Reckon the Bushwhackers are on us !" 
 
 " That can't be, this side of Bowling Green some one had 
 better reconnoitre," and rising from his seat, he drew from his 
 pocket a pistol about as large as a boy's pop-gun, and strode 
 toward the doorway." 
 
 " For God's sake, Doctor, don't go there ! Keep inside !" ex- 
 claimed half a dozen voices. 
 
 Not heeding the warnings, the medical gentleman stepped 
 upon the platform, saying, "Where's the guard? Well, these 
 fellows are never where they should be." 
 
 The single soldier who had been stationed before the door, 
 had suddenly disappeared. Naturally objecting to standing as 
 a target for fifty rebel rifles, he had retreated into the forward 
 car. The Doctor, then glancing cautiously around, and ap- 
 parently seeing nothing to satisfy his curiosity, made a sudden 
 spring for a huge tree which grew a short distance from the 
 track. He alighted within a few feet of it, and by the move- 
 ment secured two breastworks ; the tree in his front and the 
 car in his rear.
 
 36 DOWN IN TKJS'NKSSKE. 
 
 " He jumps like a wild cat," exclaimed the Colonel, " but 
 look at our neighbors here ! Ha ! ha !" 
 
 Turning about, I beheld nearly all of the citizens crouched 
 on the floor, beneath the windows, and not a few of the officers 
 with arms (and legs) couchant. 
 
 " I say, Squire," said the Colonel, laughing, " ' The wicked 
 flee when no man pursueth.' The devils would have been on 
 us before now if they were coming." 
 
 " The wise man foreseeth the evil and hideth himself the 
 fool holdeth up his head and getteth hit," responded the Squire, 
 with a ludicrous effort at merriment. 
 
 " That isn't in my version. But, Doctor, what's the deten- 
 tion ?" to the latter, who that moment re-entered. 
 
 " Two or three rails displaced that's all. Some scoundrel 
 meant to throw us off the track." 
 
 I breathed more freely ; for, if the truth must be told, my 
 respiratory apparatus had not performed its usual functions 
 during the preceding occurrences. My whole being had been 
 absorbed in two senses sight and hearing. With my eyes 
 ranging intently around, and my ears strained to catch the 
 lightest outside sound, I had made those organs do the work of 
 at least five days in those five minutes. Even a brave man 
 and bravery is not essential to one of my profession is shaken 
 when confronting an unseen danger ; and how the Colonel and 
 the Doctor maintained such perfect coolness I could not imagine. 
 I said as much to them, when, at the end of a half-hour, we re- 
 sumed our seats, and the train got again under way. 
 
 <: Courage," replied the Colonel, " like almost every thing else, 
 is a thing of habit. A man who has for two years daily ex- 
 pected every bush would give him a bullet, gets indifferent to
 
 GUERILLAS. 37 
 
 danger ; but, after all, I had rather have death come at me face 
 to face, than spring on me suddenly from behind a rail fence." 
 
 " It is barbarous this guerilla system," I remarked, again 
 dovetailing my legs within the Doctor's. 
 
 " It's more than that it's hellish," he replied ; " Jeff. Davis 
 should be hung for inaugurating it." 
 
 " If you imagine," said the Colonel, " all the thieves and cut- 
 throats of New York let loose upon the city, with unlimited 
 license to -kill, burn, and destroy, you will have a faint idea of 
 what it is. The lowest dregs of society, our gamblers, horse- 
 thieves, and criminals, make up these bands. Now and then a 
 respectable man, too cowardly to go into the regular army, joins 
 them ; but he soon becomes as bad as the rest. They submit 
 to no restraint, but range the country, plundering and murder- 
 ing friend and foe. If a worthless fellow has a grudge against 
 a neighbor, he joins them, denounces his enemy as a Union 
 man, and stealing on him at night, either shoots him down be- 
 fore his wife and children, or burns his house over his head. 
 They spare neither sex nor age. Lone women are outraged, 
 old men are murdered by them. I paid them eleven thousand 
 five hundred dollars for my own life only last fall. Wherever 
 they go terror reigns ; and more than one-half of this State and 
 Tennessee is under their control. In fact, their raids extend 
 even within the Union lines. Mounted on swift horses, they 
 make a sudden dash on a picket-station, or a railway train, and 
 are ten miles away before pursuit can be commenced." 
 
 " And the King Devil among them is a Yankee," said the 
 Do .cor, smiling. 
 
 " Is that true ?" 
 
 " Yes but don't be offended. I know you export your
 
 38 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 meanest specimens ; and that our people have some traits worse 
 than yours. The North loves gold the South loves power; 
 and the love of power is infinitely worse than the love of gold. 
 One absorbs a man in self, but makes him orderly, quiet, and 
 law-abiding ; the other renders him restless, turbulent, and im- 
 patient of control ready to overturn every thing, human and 
 divine, that stands in the way of his personal ambition. It 
 led Satan to rebel in Heaven, and it made our leaders rise 
 against the best Government on earth ; and, Sir, we cannot end 
 this war until we serve them as the Lord served the devil send 
 them to h 1 !" 
 
 This was said with a warmth that, in one of the Doctor's cool 
 temperament, surprised me ; but I merely remarked : 
 
 " You would go too far. Strip them of their negroes their 
 power is in them and they will be harmless. Reduced to 
 earning their bread by the sweat of their brows, they'll find 
 no time to plot revolutions." 
 
 " You are mistaken. Our people are ignorant, and ac- 
 customed to being led by them. Seeing them impoverished, 
 they'll pity them, and be just as much under their control as 
 now. We must weed the whole race out of the South. I 
 wouldn't hang them they are too many for that ; but I'd 
 expatriate every one of them. Until that is done, there'll 
 be no lasting peace." 
 
 " Well, it strikes me we'll have to catch the birds before we 
 cage them." 
 
 " And going on as we are going now we'll never catch them," 
 remarked the Colonel ; " I sometimes think God has struck 
 our rulers with judicial blindness to punish the nation for its 
 sins. Why, Sir, I have half a dozen negro boys who could
 
 GUERILLAS. 39 
 
 manage things better than they are managed at Washington. 
 Half-way measures always acting a little too late scattering 
 our forces over the whole continent, when we should concen- 
 trate them against vital points, is ruining us ; and if it goes on, 
 will make the South independent." 
 
 " I can see where the Administration has blundered ; but it 
 is easier to see mistakes than to suggest remedies. How would 
 you suppress the Rebellion ?" 
 
 " By calling out a million of men ; and coming down on the 
 South like an avalanche. That would end the war in ninety 
 days. Now, with six hundred thousand on the outside of a 
 circle, we are trying to whip four hundred thousand on the 
 inside. It can never be done. The rebels can so quickly 
 re-enforce any threatened point, that they will always be nu- 
 merically superior where a battle is to be fought. It takes 
 nearly half our present force to keep up our communications. 
 Rosecrans here our best General has, perhaps, seventy-five 
 thousand men, but thirty thousand are required to protect his 
 lines of two hundred and fifty miles, and he is kept idle because 
 he cannot bring into the field as many men as Bragg." 
 
 u And do you think the rebels have four hundred thousand ?" 
 
 "Every man of them; and they can bring out another 
 one hundred thousand, besides two hundred thousand negroes." 
 
 " And dare they arm the negroes ?" 
 
 " They do it now. The first company raised in Memphis 
 was of blacks. When they are driven to the wall, they'll put 
 a musket into the hands of every negro within their lines, and 
 make him fight. My own opinion is that the slave is to end 
 this war. Each side will use him. He'll be put in the front 
 ranks, and the result will be the present generation will be
 
 40 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 exterminated. Thus, though not in the Doctor's way, may be 
 brought about the fate he predicts for the blacks." 
 
 "God speed the day!" exclaimed the Doctor. "You see 
 I'm an Abolitionist, Sir, but not one of the Yankee stripe." 
 
 " I perceive you're not a negro worshipper ; but, Colonel, after 
 the North has crushed out this immense force, how can it 
 bring the Southern people into a cordial reunion with it ?" 
 
 "They'll come into it of themselves. Nine-tenths of the 
 rank and file of the rebel army would gladly lay down their 
 arms, and go peacefully back to their homes to-day. They 
 have been misled and forced into this thing ; their hearts are not, 
 and never have been, in it. Only the leaders are irreconcilably 
 in earnest. The Rebellion is merely a shell. We have but to 
 crack it, to find it hollow. The Southern people have had 
 false ideas of the Yankees the war has made them know 
 them better and like them better. Our masses had seen none 
 but the sneaking, cowardly, money-loving kind. One of my 
 own brothers-in-law is of that sort. He got a hundred and 
 fifty negroes by my sister, and the first thing he did was 
 to whip one of them to death an old house-servant, who had 
 carried his wife in his arms when she was a child. He is now 
 a rabid Secessionist, as are all of his class." 
 
 " And who is this King Devil of the guerillas, as the Doctor 
 calls him ?" 
 
 " His name is Woodward. He was a schoolmaster at Hop- 
 kinsville, Thurston County, Kentucky. He knew all the 
 thieves and rascals in the district, and at the breaking out 
 of the war raised a regiment of fifteen hundred among them 
 and offered it to Mr. Davis. Davis refused it, because the men 
 were not enlisted for three years. Then Woodward divided
 
 GUERILLAS. 41 
 
 his force into squads of from twenty to two hundred, and 
 Overran the State. There are five or six thousand of these 
 devils now, in this State and Tennessee, and some of their 
 atrocities are past belief." 
 
 " I have heard something of them," I replied. " Parson 
 Brovvnlow introduced me, at Cincinnati, to a number of East 
 Tennessee refugees, who had suffered every thing but death at 
 the hands of these men. One of them, a farmer by the name 
 of Palmer, from near Pikeville, in Bledsoe County, was 
 attacked by a party in his own house in the daytime. He 
 killed two of them, but was shot in four places, and left 
 for dead. His wife, who attempted to shield him, was 
 also wounded ; but after incredible hardship got her husband 
 to Lexington, and from there to Cincinnati, where the Parson 
 secured him a place as conductor on the street cars. When I 
 came through he was about to volunteer under Burnside, being 
 determined to have vengeance for what he had suffered. 
 Another one was Knights, a noted scout, who has served under 
 Rosecrans, and is now with Buraside. His adventures would 
 make a history as interesting and strange as any romance. He 
 has crossed the mountains as guide to Union men, escaping to 
 join our army, seventy-two times! and, though repeatedly 
 shot, has been taken but once. Then he escaped in a most 
 wonderful way. 
 
 " How was it ?" asked the Doctor. 
 
 " He was captured by a small party while crossing Walden's 
 Ridge. They at first decided to hang him on the spot, but 
 finally, to obtain the reward offered for his capture, concluded 
 to deliver him to the Confederate authorities at Knoxville. He 
 was at once tried and sentenced to be hanged. While he was in
 
 42 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 jail awaiting execution, his daughter was admitted to see him. 
 He pretended to be unable to sit up, in consequence of a wound 
 received when he was taken, and of course the daughter had to 
 bend down to hear what he said. In these circumstances he 
 managed, though a sentinel stood directly over him, to whis- 
 per : ' Under your skirt a coil ! to-morrow !' She pro- 
 cured a ' coil,' as he termed it, hid it under her clothes, and 
 the next day went again to the jail. The sentinel refused to 
 admit her, but the officer, softened by her entreaties to see her 
 father for the last time he was to be hanged the next day 
 finally granted her an interview of five minutes. The soldier 
 stood by all the while, as before, but while frantically embracing 
 her father, she managed to convey the priceless rope under the 
 bed-clothes. The night happened to be dark and stormy, the 
 sentinels kept under shelter, and before morning, Knights, with 
 three others, let himself down from the third story and escaped. 
 He is past sixty, but as hale and vigorous as any young man 
 you ever knew." 
 
 " I'll never speak against women's hoops again," exclaimed 
 the Doctor, " for once they've done the country service." 
 
 " The East Tennesseeans have suffered terribly," said the 
 Colonel, " but the barbarities practised on them have been 
 committed all over this section. Wherever the guerillas have 
 gone, they have left a trail of burning houses, and butchered 
 men and women. Some of them are such monsters of crime 
 that one is tempted to believe the Devil has become incarnate 
 in long hair, slouched hat, and butternut trowsers. Over here 
 in Clinton County, one named Champ Ferguson was recently 
 living, who, I suppose, has committed more murders than any 
 man in the Union. Before the war he was a gambler, thief,
 
 GUERILLAS. 4:3 
 
 and counterfeiter, and naturally joined the Eebellion. He 
 organized a small band, and for more than a year committed 
 unheard of atrocities unchecked. Reuben B. Wood, an aged 
 citizen of Clinton County, had greatly befriended him. Fer- 
 guson rode up to Wood's house one day in September, 1861, 
 called him out, and coolly told him he was going to kill him. 
 ' Oh, no ! Champ, you'll not do that ! I never done you any 
 harm !' exclaimed the old man. 
 
 " ' But you toted the d d Lincoln flag at Camp Dick Rob- 
 inson.' 
 
 " ' Why, Champ,' said Wood, ' I almost raised you. I held 
 you on my knee when you was a child.' 
 
 " 'You're a d d Lincolnite,' said the monster, and shot 
 him dead. 
 
 " On another occasion he had a Union man by the name of 
 Spangler lashed to a tree, and beaten to death. In April, 
 1862, he and his band came upon a party of neighbors col- 
 lected at a log raising in Fentress County. He shot a .number 
 of them as they were attempting to escape, and took the rest 
 prisoners. Then he bade his men hold each prisoner by the 
 arms, and deliberately ripped open their bowels with a knife !- 
 A man by the name of Fragge had incurred his enmity. He 
 was confined to his bed, dangerously sick, his little child lying 
 beside him, and his wife sitting near. Ferguson entered the 
 room and told him he had corne to kill him. Fragge pleaded 
 for life ; his wife entreated the ruffian to spare her husband, 
 but he raised his pistol and gave him a severe wound. Fragge 
 again entreated for life, but Ferguson again raised his pistol, 
 and while the sick man clasped his frightened child to his 
 breast, shot him dead ! The wife supposing both husband and
 
 44 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 child killed, ran frantically from the house. Then Ferguson 
 stole the dead man's clothes, and the blanket that covered his 
 bed !" 
 
 " Tell me no more ! You have said enough to convince 
 me that all the passions of hell are ' let loose in this war.' " 
 
 " They are. Men have .become fiends. They thirst for 
 blood. They gloat over their victims. The last drop of 
 human feeling has gone out of them. Death and ruin follow 
 them everywhere. They have made this lovely country a 
 HELL !" 
 
 We soon afterward arrived at Memphis Junction, and bid- 
 ding me a kindly " good-by," and urging me to visit them if 
 nay time allowed, the Colonel and his companions left the car 
 and took the train which was in waiting for Clarksville.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE UNION SCOUT. 
 
 THE States of Kentucky and Tennessee have been made one 
 vast battle-ground by this war. Every county and every 
 township has been the scene of some fierce struggle, or the 
 theatre of some bloody drama, whose memory will live for 
 generations. Grass-grown cross-roads, where rude guide-posts 
 point ways no traveller ever went ; sleepy hamlets, unknown to 
 the census-taker and the tax-gatherer, where the spelling-book 
 and the mail-bag never were seen ; lonely log meeting-houses, 
 where some ignorant pastor doled out to a scanty crowd of 
 more ignorant " white trash" weekly potions of " wholesome 
 m admonition," and the country newspaper ; have become 
 world-famous. Distant lands have heard of them; distant 
 times will speak of them, and romance and poetry will couple 
 their names with heroic deeds, and make them holy places in 
 our nation's history. 
 
 At every station on the Nashville road the traveller sees 
 indications of the fierceness of this struggle, and evidences of 
 a valor worthy of the most heroic ages. At Mumfordsville, on 
 a little mound overlooking the Green River, is a low earthwork 
 encircled by a shallow ditch, and enclosing less than an acre of 
 ground. There Colonel Wilder and a small band of raw 
 Indianians arrested the northward march of Bragg's army for 
 forty hours !
 
 46 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 "It is the whole of Bragg' s force! It is madness to resist! 
 We must surrender !" exclaimed one of Wilder's lieutenants. 
 
 " I know we must surrender. But we'll do it when they 
 make us," replied the brave commander. 
 
 Five thousand rebel muskets belched fire upon them during 
 six hours, but crouching behind those mud walls that handful 
 of brave men sent back a storm of hail that mowed down 
 the advancing ranks as the scythe mows down the summer grass. 
 
 "Surrender at once$ or we'll give no quarter," was borne to 
 them by the flag of truce. 
 
 " We ask none," was the sole reply, and the work of death 
 went on. 
 
 Twelve thousand men, in ranks six deep, their bayonets 
 gleaming in the sun, then enveloped that little hill, and again 
 and again, within eighty feet of that frail breastwork, pour- 
 ed in their deadly volleys, but at each discharge clear and loud 
 rang out the words: " Aim low, boys. Let every shot tell !" 
 
 and broken and decimated the assailants fell back to their 
 
 i 
 
 quarters. 
 
 At sunrise of the third day another flag approached. " You 
 are brave men. We would spare your lives. We have posted 
 cannon at every angle. We can level your intrenchments in 
 half an hour !" 
 
 " I do not believe it ; convince me of it, and I'll surrender." 
 
 They led him out He saw the guns, and surrendered. 
 
 " If he had held out another half hour I should not be 
 here to tell you of it," said the modest young corporal who told 
 me the story. 
 
 Into a stagnant pool at the left of the fort three hundred 
 and fifty mangled rebels were thrown at nightfall. Seven hun-
 
 THE UNION SCOUT. 4:7 
 
 dred now lie buried in the woods hard by. How great a 
 graveyard for so small a town ! 
 
 But I cannot particularize all that I saw, where at every 
 bridge was a stockade, and on every hill a battle-field. 
 
 Here and there broken cars and charred rolling-gear strewn 
 along the track showed that the guerillas had been recently at 
 work. At Bowling Green, in the bed of the Big Barren a 
 little stream which flows near the town were the fragments 
 of a train that, with its freight of mules, had been burned 
 on the bridge only three weeks before, and at the station next 
 south of Gallatin, was a similar wreck ; but, closing my eyes on 
 these relics of an almost savage warfare, and these uncomforta- 
 ble reminders of personal danger, I perched my legs on the 
 seat just vacated by the Abolition philosopher, and soon fell 
 asleep. 
 
 I was dreaming of home, and of certain flaxen-haired 
 juveniles who are accustomed to call me " Mister Papa," when 
 a heavy hand was laid on my shoulder, and a gruff voice said : 
 
 " Doan't want ter 'sturb yer, stranger, but thar haint nary 
 nother sittin'-place in the whole kear." 
 
 I drew in my extremities, and he seated himself before me. 
 He was a spare, muscular man of about forty, a little above the 
 medium height, with thick sandy hair and beard, and a full, clear, 
 gray eye. There was nothing about him to attract particular at- 
 tention except his clothing, but that was so out of all keeping 
 with the place and the occasion, that I opened my eyes to their 
 fullest extent, and scanned him from head to foot. He wore 
 the gray uniform of a Secession officer, and in the breast of 
 his coat, right over his heart, was a round hole, scorched at 
 the edges, and darkly stained with blood ! Over his shoulder
 
 48 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 was slung a large army revolver, and at his side, in a leathern 
 sheath, hung a weapon that seemed a sort of cross between a 
 bowie-knife and a butcher's cleaver. On his head, surmounted 
 by a black plume, was a moose-colored, slouched hat, and falling 
 from beneath it, and tied under his chin, was a white cotton 
 handkerchief stiffly saturated with blood ! Nine motley-clad 
 natives, all heavily armed, had entered with him and taken the 
 vacant seats around me, and at first view I was inclined to believe 
 that in my sleep the train had gone over to the enemy and left 
 me in the hands of the Philistines. I was, however, quickly re- 
 assured, for, looking about I discovered the Union Guard and 
 my fellow-travellers all in their previous places, and as uncon- 
 cerned as if no unusual thing had happened. Still, it seemed 
 singular that no officer had the new comer in charge ; and more 
 singular that any one in the uniform he wore should be allowed 
 to carry arms so freely about him. After a while, having 
 gleaned all the knowledge of him that my eyes could obtain, I 
 said in a pleasant tone : 
 
 " Well, my friend, you appear to take things rather coolly." 
 
 " Oh, yes, Sir ! I orter. I've been mighty hard put, but I 
 reckon I'm good fur a nother pull now." 
 
 " Where are you from ?" 
 
 " Fentress County, nigh onter Jimtown (Jamestown). I'm 
 scoutin' it fur Burn side runnin' boys inter camp ; but these 
 fellers wanted, ter jine Gunnel Brownlow the old parson's 
 son down ter Triune. We put plumb fur Nashville, but hed 
 ter turn norard, case the brush down that ar thick with rebs. 
 They'd like ter a hed us." 
 
 " Oh, then you wear that uniform as a disguise on scouting 
 expeditions ?"
 
 THE UNION SCOUT. 4y 
 
 " No, Sir ; I never bed sech a rig on afore. I allers shows 
 the true flag, an' thar haint no risk, case, ye see, the whole 
 deestrict down thar ar Union folks, an' ary one on 'em would 
 house'n me ef all Buckners army wus at my heels. But this 
 time they run me powerful close, an' I hed ter show the 
 sccesh rags." 
 
 As he said this he looked down on his clean, unworn suit of 
 coarse gray, with ineffable contempt. 
 
 " And how could you manage to live with such a hole there ?" 
 I asked, pointing to the bullet rent in his coat. 
 
 " Oh ! I warn't inside uv 'em jest then, though I warrant me 
 he war a likely feller thet war. I ortent ter a done hit but 
 T hed ter. This war he ;" and taking from his side pocket a 
 small miniature, he handed it to me. 
 
 It was a plain circlet of gold, attached to a piece of blue 
 ribbon. One side of the rim was slightly clipped, as if it had 
 been grazed by the passing ball, and the upper portion of the 
 iv.ory was darkly stained with blood ; but enough of it was un- 
 obscured to show me the features of a young man, with dark, 
 flowing hair, and a full, frank, manly face. With a feeling akin 
 to horror I was handing the picture back to the scout, when in 
 low, stammering tones he said to me : 
 
 " Tother side, Sir ! Luk at 'tother side." 
 
 I turned it over, and saw the portrait of a young woman, 
 scarcely more than seventeen. She had a clear, transparent 
 skin, regular, oval features, full, swimming, black eyes, and, 
 what must have been dark, wavy brown hair, but changed then 
 to a deep auburn by the red stains that tinged the upper part of 
 the picture. With intense loathing, I turned nlmost fiercely on 
 the scout, and exclaimed : " And you killed that man ?" 
 3
 
 50 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 "Yes, Sir, God forguv me I done bit. But I couldn't holp 
 hit. He bed me down he'd cut me thar," turning up his 
 sleeve, and displaying a deep wound on his arm ; " an' thar !" 
 removing the bandage, and showing a long gash back of bis 
 ear. " His arm wus riz ter strike agin in another minhit he'd 
 hev cluv my brain. I seed hit, Sir, an' I fired ! God forguv 
 me I fired ! I wouldn't a clone hit ef I'd a knowd thet," and 
 he looked down on the face of the sweet young girl, and the 
 moisture came into his eyes : " I'd hev shot 'hn somewbar but 
 yere somewhar but ycre /" and laying his hand over the rent 
 in his coat, he groaned as if he felt the wound. With that 
 blood-stained miniature in my hand, and listening to the broken 
 words of that ignorant scout, I realized the horrible barbarity 
 of war. 
 
 After a pause of some minutes he resumed the conversation. 
 
 "They killed one, on our boys, Sir?" 
 
 "Did they! How was it?" 
 
 " Wai Sir, ye see they b'long round the Big Fork in Scot.t 
 County ; and bein's I war down thar, an' they know'd I war a 
 runnin' recruits over the mountins ter Burnside, they telled 
 me they wanted me ter holp 'em git 'long with the young Gun- 
 nel They'd ruther a notion ter him an' he ar a feller thet 
 haint growd everywhar 'sides all the folks down thar swar by 
 the old Parson." 
 
 " Well, they ought to, for he's a trump," I remarked good- 
 humoredly, to set the native more at his ease. 
 
 " Ye kin bet high on thet ; he haint nothin' else," he replied, 
 leaning forward and regarding me with a pleased, kindly ex- 
 pression. " Every un down my way used ter take his paper ; 
 thet an' the Bible war all they ever seed, an' they reckoned one
 
 THE UNION SCOUT. 51 
 
 war 'bout so good as 'tother. Wall, the boys thort I could git 
 'em through an' bein's it made no odds to me whar they jined, 
 so long as they did jine, I 'greed ter du hit. We put out ten 
 days, yisterday twelve on 'em, an' me an' struck plumb fur 
 Nashville. We lay close daytimes, 'case, though every hous'n 
 ar Union, the kentry is swarmin' with Buckner's men, an' we 
 know'd they'd let slide on us jest so soon as they could draw a 
 bead. We got 'long right smart till we fotched the Roaring 
 River, nigh onter Livingston. We'd 'quired, an' hedn't heerd 
 uv ary rebs bein' round ; so, foolhardy like, thet evenin' we tuk 
 ter the road 'fore hit war clar dark. We hedn't gone more'n a 
 mile till we come slap onter 'bout eighty Secesh calvary. We 
 skedaddled fur the timber, powerful sudden ; but they war over 
 the fence an' on us, 'fore we got well under cover. 'Bout thirty 
 on 'em slid thar nags, an' come at us in the brush. I seed 
 twarn't no use runnin'; so I yelled out : ' Stand yer ground, 
 boys, an' sell yer lives jest so 'high as ye kin !' Wall, we went 
 at hit ter close quarters hand ter hand, an' fut ter fut an' ye'd 
 better b'lieve thar war some tall fightin' thar fur 'bout ten 
 minhits. Our boys fit like fien's thet little chunk uv a feller 
 thar," pointing to a slim, pale-faced youth, not more than 
 seventeen, "laid out three on 'em. I'd done up two myself, 
 when the Capt'n come onter me but, I've telled ye 'bout him ;" 
 and drawing a long breath, he put the miniature back in his 
 pocket. After a short pause he continued : 
 
 " When they seed the Capt'n war done for, they fell back a 
 piece them as war left on 'em ter the edge uv the timber, an' 
 hollered fur 'tothers ter come on. Thet guv us time ter load 
 up we'd fit arter the fust fire wuth knives an' we blazed inter 
 'em. Jest as we done hit, I heer'd some more calvary comin'
 
 52 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 up the road, an' I war jest tellin' the boys we'd hev ter make 
 tracks, when the new fellers sprung the fence, an' come plumb 
 at the Secesh on a dead run. Thar warn't only thirty on 'em, 
 yit the rebs didn't so much as make a stand, but skedaddled as 
 ef Old Rosey himself had been arter 'em." 
 
 " And who were the new comers?" 
 
 " Some on Tinker Beaty's men. They'd heerd the firm' nigh 
 two mile off, an' come up suspicionin' how things wus." 
 
 " But, are there Union bands there ? I thought East Tennes- 
 see was overrun with rebel troops." 
 
 "Wall, hit ar; but thar's a small chance uv Union goorillas 
 in Fentress and Overton county. They hide in the mountins, 
 an' light down on the rebs, now an' then, like death on a sick 
 parson. Thar is places in them deestricts thet a hundred men 
 kin hold agin ten thousand. They know 'em all, case they wus 
 raised thar, an' they know every bridle-path through the woods, 
 so its well nigh unpossible ter kotch 'em. I reckon thar's a 
 hundred on 'em, all mounted, an' bein's as they hain't no tents, 
 nor wagins, nor camp fixin's they git round mighty spry. 
 Thar scouts is allers on the move, an' wharever thar's a showin', 
 they pounce down on the rebs, cuttin' 'em ter pieces. Thet's 
 the how they git powder an' provisions. They never trouble 
 peaceable folk, an' haint no sort o' 'spense ter Guverment ; but 
 they does a heap uv damage ter the Secesh." 
 
 " Well, they did you a ' powerful' good turn." 
 
 " They did thet ; but we lost one on our boys. He war only 
 sixteen brother ter thet feller thar," pointing to a young man 
 sitting opposite. "They hung his father, an' now they's 
 killed him," and he drew a deep sigh. 
 
 " Why did they hang his father ?"
 
 THE UNION SCOUT. 53 
 
 " Wall, ye see, they kunscripted him he war over age, but 
 they don't mind thet an' he desarted, meanin' ter git ter the 
 Union lines. They kotched him in the woods, an' hung him 
 right up ter a tree." 
 
 " Was only one of your men hurt ?" 
 
 Yes, two on 'em wus wounded too bad ter come wuth us. 
 The calvary toted 'em off ter the mountins, an' I reckon they'll 
 jine 'em when they gits round. But we left elevin uv the rebs 
 dead on the ground." 
 
 " Did your men kill so many ? The cavalry had a hand in 
 that, I suppose ?" 
 
 "Yes, they killed two thet's all. They couldn't git at 'em, 
 they run so. We done the rest." 
 
 "You must have fought like tigers. How many were 
 wounded ?" 
 
 " Nary one ; what wan't dead the boys finished." 
 
 " You don't mean to say that your men killed th'e wounded 
 after the fight?" 
 
 " I reckon they did some four on 'em." 
 
 " My friend, that's nothing but murder. I had hoped the 
 rebels did all of that work." 
 
 " Wall, they does anuff on hit ; an' I never could bring my 
 mind ter think it war right or human : but I s'pose thet's case 
 I never hed a father hung, or a sister ravig'd, or a old mothe? 
 shot down in har bed. Them things, you knows, makes a dif- 
 ference." 
 
 " And have any of your men suffered in such ways ?" 
 
 " In sech ways ? Thar haint one on 'em but kin tell you 
 things 'nd turn yer blood ter ice. D'ye see thet feller thar?" 
 pointing to a thin, sallow faced man, two seats in our rear.
 
 54 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 " Not two months gone, some twenty rebs come ter his house 
 while he war layin' out in the woods, an' toted his wife as 
 young an' purty a 'oman as yer own sister off 'bout a mile, an' 
 thar tuk thar will uv her all on 'em ! She made out ter crawl 
 home, but it killed har. He warn't wuth har when she died, 
 an' hit wus well he warn't, fur he'd hev gone clean crazy ef he 
 hed been. He's mor'n half thet now crazy fur blood ! An' 
 kin ye blame him? Kin ye 'spect a man thet's hed sech 
 things done ter him ter show quarter ? 'Taint in natur ter do 
 hit. All these boys hes hed jest sich, an' things like hit ; an' 
 they go in ter kill or be kilt. They doan't ax no marcy, an' they 
 doan't show none. Nigh twenty thousand on 'em is in Burn- 
 side's an' old Rosey's army, an' ye kin ax them if they doan't 
 fight like devils. The iron has entered thar souls, Sir. They 
 feel they's doin' God sarvice an' they is when they does fur a 
 secesh. An' when this war ar over ef it ever ar over thar'll 
 be sech a reckonin' wuth the rcbs uv East Tennessee as creation 
 never know'd on afore. Thar won't be one on 'em left this 
 side uv hell !" This was said with a vehemence that startled 
 me. His eyes actually blazed, and every line on his seamed 
 face quivered with passion. To change the subject, I asked : 
 
 " And what did you do after the fight ?" 
 
 j " Not knowin' what moight happen, we swapped does with 
 sech uv the rebs as hed gray 'uns, an' put North plumb fur 
 the mountins. Nigh onter Meigsville we come onter a Union 
 man, who helped us ter cut some timber, an' make a raft fur 
 we 'lowed the Secesh would track us wuth houns, an' ter throw 
 'cm off the scent we hed ter take ter the water. We got inter 
 Obey's Fork, an' floated down ter the Cumberland ; hidin' in 
 the bushes in the day time, an' floatin' at night. We got nigh
 
 THE UNION SCOUT. 55 
 
 onter Carthage, an' knowin' the river wan't safe 110 longer, we 
 left hit an' struck 'cross fur the railroad. Thet kentry ar full 
 uv rebs, but hevin' the Secesh cloes on, we made out ter git 
 'nuff ter eat till we got yere." 
 
 We had crossed the Cumberland, and were then approaching 
 Nashville. Its beautiful suburbs, though covered with the early 
 foliage of spring, wore a most desolate appearance. Magnifi- 
 cent villas were heaps of ruins ; splendid plantations and 
 charming gardens were overrun with weeds. How fearfully 
 have their owners expiated the mad crime of Secession ! How 
 have they sown the wind and reaped the whirlwind! 
 
 At the station-house we ran the gauntlet of another set of 
 military officials. Passes were examined and luggage was 
 looked into, but after a while the Colonel and I squeezed out 
 of the crowd, and into an omnibus. " I go to the ' Com- 
 mercial,' " he said to me. " I've tried the ' St. Cloud,' and I'm 
 disposed to see if the other is quite so bad." 
 
 " Well, I'll go with you. I'm familiar with Southern hotels, 
 and don't expect much." 
 
 If I had expected much, I should have been disappointed; 
 for truth compels me to say and I've been somewhat of a 
 traveller and seen strange lodging-places in my time that the 
 " Commercial Hotel" of Nashville is the filthiest, buggiest 
 house, public or private, I ever passed a night in. In any 
 Northern town it would be indicted as a nuisance, calculated to 
 breed pestilence and bad morals among the people. Biscuit, 
 heavy as 1 ead ; steak, tough as leather ; coffee, thick as mud ; 
 and corn-cake so saturated with smoke that all its original flavor 
 had departed, was its unvarying bill of fare. No, not unvary- 
 ing, for a small fee to the ebony waiter did procure me some
 
 56 DOWN IN TKNNKSSKE. 
 
 strawberries, and for them I blessed him, and of them I made 
 my supper. 
 
 Being fatigued with my journey, I asked, early in the even- 
 ing, to be shown to a room, and a servant conducted me to a 
 dingy apartment in the rear of the house, where I had full ad- 
 vantage of all the fumes and perfumes of the kitchen. Its 
 dimensions were about eight feet by twelve, and its walls were 
 smeared with soot and tobacco juice. The bare floor, which 
 had never known a mop or a scrubbing-brush, was coated with 
 a layer of soil tKick enough to raise a crop of potatoes but 
 the bed, and the curtains, and the linen ! (though, to be exactly 
 truthful it wasn't linen) these I must leave to the reader's 
 imagination, for no description would do them justice. Suffice 
 it to say that after an hour's persistent effort, I did effect some 
 improvement in them ; and then, " wrapping the drapery of my 
 couch" about me, I lay down, but not to " pleasant dreams ;" 
 for at that moment the darkies in the barber's shop below stairs 
 struck up " de banjo an' de bones," and for two mortal hours I 
 was forced to listen to all the Ethiopian songs, written and un- 
 written, in existence. In sheer desperation I finally rose, took 
 a seat by the window, and to the intense delight of the sable 
 melodists, joined in the refrains. To give the reader an idea 
 of what I had to endure, and of what " public sentiment" 
 among the darkies of Nashville may be supposed to be, I sub- 
 join one of the songs, which I tried to take down in the dark : 
 
 "I'll sing you a song to suit de times, 
 
 Called bobbin around, around, around ; 
 You'll see dar's reason in de rhymes, 
 
 As dey gwo bobbin' around. 
 Ole Rosey's down in Tennessee, 
 Bobbin' around, around, around ;
 
 THE UNION SCOUT. 57 
 
 An' settin' all de darkies free, 
 As he gwo bobbin' around. 
 
 "He'm straddled on de big ole gray, 
 
 Bobbin' around, around, around; 
 An' all Secesh dey clar de way, 
 
 As he gwo bobbin' around ; 
 Dey yere de Union fife and drum, 
 
 Bobbin' around, around, around ; 
 An' know do judgment-day am come, 
 
 "Wen dey am bobbin' around. 
 
 " Ole massa see dat ole war boss, 
 
 Bobbin' around, around, around; 
 Says he : ' You Pomp it all am loss, 
 
 Fur Rosey's bobbin' around 1' 
 He use to cut a mighty dash, 
 
 Bobbin' around, around, around, 
 But den he tuk a brandy-smash, 
 
 An' did gwo bobbin' around. 
 
 " He bob so bad dat down he fell, 
 
 Bobbin' around, around, around; 
 An' neber riz dia side ob well 
 
 Dis side a bobbin' around. 
 He leff dis nig ahind to play, 
 
 Bobbin' around, around, around ; 
 I reckon he'll play it all de day, 
 
 An 1 den gwo bobbin' around. 
 
 " Come all you darkies jine de song, 
 
 Bobbin' around, around, around, 
 You all am free so gwo it strong, 
 
 As you gwo bobbin' around. 
 De big Secesh no more will be 
 
 Bobbin' around, around, around ; 
 Fur Rosey's down in Tennessee, 
 
 An' he am bobbin' around." 
 
 It was nearly eleven o'clock when the good-natured darkey 
 who led the minstrels, put his head out of the window, and said
 
 58 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 to me : " Now, massa, we'll 'olude de ex'cises ob de evenin' 
 by singin' Ole John Brown, wid de variations ; and you'm 'spcc'- 
 fully 'vited to jine de chorus." 
 
 I did "jine de chorus," and therefore the reader is deprived 
 of the " variations," which I might otherwise have committed 
 to paper. However, if he is curious about them I can gratify 
 him with others quite as good, for while I was in Tennessee I 
 assisted at the martyrdom of " Olc John Brown" at least twenty 
 times, and each time it was done with " variations." 
 
 Nothing, perhaps, so forcibly illustrates the progress of eman- 
 cipation sentiment in the army, and among the people of Ten- 
 nessee, as the wonderful popularity of that song. It is sung by 
 every one, high and low, and everywhere its spirit is felt. Truly 
 John Brown s " soul is a marching on !"
 
 THE NASHVILLE PRISON. 59 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE NASHVILLE PRISON. 
 
 THE next day was Sunday. I rose early, and going down to 
 the office found my friend the Colonel already stirring. "Ah," 
 he said, as I bade him "good-morning," "I'm in luck. An 
 orderly has come in with my horse, and an ambulance goes 
 out under an escort this morning. In half an hour I shall be 
 off." 
 
 [Triune was distant only eighteen miles, but the road was 
 infested with guerillas, and was unsafe for single travellers.] 
 
 " I am glad for that, on your account, but sorry on my own. 
 I had reckoned on your aid in procuring access to my friends 
 at the prison." 
 
 " You'll have no difficulty about that. Call on Colonel Martin 
 at the Capitol ; tell him who you are, and he'll give you a 
 permit." 
 
 After breakfast, with mutual expressions of good-will we 
 parted. I have formed many agreeable acquaintances while 
 travelling, but never one more agreeable than the sturdy Indiana 
 Colonel. He had a frank, glowing, genial nature that attracted 
 me irresistibly to him, just as one is attracted to a warm wood 
 fire on a winter evening. Indeed he is somehow associated in 
 my mind with a generous wood tire one of the glorious, old- 
 fashioned kind ; of oaken logs, piled high on a broad hearth, 
 and giving out oxygen enough to supply a small village.
 
 60 DOWN IN TKNNKSSI-.K. 
 
 When he was gone, the landlord said to me, " If you don't 
 know none of the military folk, Sir, you stand a sorry chance of 
 gittin' inter .the prison. Ye see, they karn't admit them as 
 they don't know. "Twouldn't do, nohow." 
 
 If that was true, I was in a dilemma. I had provided against 
 such a contingency by taking with me, on leaving home, half a 
 dozen introductory letters to'Governor Johnson, but that gen- 
 tleman was not in Xashville, and might not arrive for a week, 
 therefore they were of no present value. 
 
 As I sat down to ponder over u the situation," I suddenly 
 remembered having; heard that the son of an old friend was au 
 
 O 
 
 officer in a Tennessee regiment. " Landlord," I said, address- 
 ing the publican (he told me he was also a Re-publican, but 
 other trustworthy persons assured me that he was a rabid 
 rebel. This I thought accounted for the filthy condition of 
 his establishment). " Landlord," I said, " can you tell me where 
 the Tennessee is stationed ?" 
 
 " Here, Sir ; 'bout two miles out nigh to Fort Negley." 
 
 This was agreeable news, and writing a few lines to the 
 young Tennesseean, in which I alluded to my long friendship 
 with his father, and asked him " to come over and help" me. 
 I despatched a messenger at once to the camp. In about an 
 hour the negro returned, but with the unwelcome tidings that 
 " de Cap'n am off, Sar ; off scoutin' it, Sar, and dey doan't know 
 when he'll be back, but dey reckon he'll come yere, d'recly he 
 come, Sar ; d'recly he come, Sar." 
 
 The morning was passing away while I was thus casting 
 about for an escort, and at last I determined to do what I should 
 have done at first set out alone. 
 
 As I climbed the steep hill which leads to the Capitol, I was
 
 THE NASHVILLE PBISO.V. 61 
 
 struck with the gloomy aspect of the silent, sombre houses, and 
 the noiseless, deserted streets. It was a bright, summer-like 
 day, and near the hour for morning service ; but, with the. 
 exception of a solitary soldier, or a smartly-dressed darkey, saun- 
 tering idly along, no one was abroad. The white population had 
 mostly fled, and the few that remained welcomed the " Nor- 
 thern intruders" with bolted doors and barred windows. T 
 realized I was walking the streets of a conquered city. Arrived 
 at the Capitol an imposing pile of white marble, more spacious 
 and beautiful than any similar edifice in the Northern States I 
 found myself under the walls of a huge fortress, frowning with 
 cannon and encircled with breastworks. Its marble steps were 
 flanked by stockades, and its broad battlements crowned with 
 artillery, which, from its elevated position, commanded the 
 entire town and surrounding suburbs. In the distance, the 
 Casino and Forts Negley and Confiscation looked down from 
 rocky elevations, and beyond them a broad belt of military 
 camps engirdled the captive city. To my unpractised eye the 
 defences seemed, as they no doubt are, impregnable, and with 
 what emotions must they be contemplated by Nashville's to- 
 bacco lords, who skulking back from exile in Dixie, stand now 
 and then on those neighboring hills, and look down on the 
 homes their own mad treason has shut them out from for- 
 ever. 
 
 Approaching the sentinel at the principal stairway, I said : 
 " Will you tell me where to find Colonel Martin ?" 
 
 " An shoore an' I 'will, Sir. Foller the grand hall till yc 
 come forninst the Guv'ner's room ye'll spy it over the dhoor, 
 thin, say nothin' to nobody, but go straight in, Sir, an' ax fur 
 the Gunnel, an' ve'll have him."
 
 62 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 " Thank you. And pray, what brought you here all the 
 way from auld Ireland." 
 
 "Fath, yer honor, an' I come to fight to fight for the nay- 
 gur ;" and he shrugged his shoulders, as if what he said might 
 not be strictly true. 
 
 " You don't mean that." 
 
 " Troth, an' I does. I niver loiked the black divils though 
 them as is here hain't black, fur they's yaller till I come out 
 to fight fur 'em ; but I've sort o' takin' to 'em since. An 
 Irishman, ye knows, if he's niver a hapenny in his pocket, has 
 allers a feller feelin' fur a poor divil as is poorer thin he is an' 
 sorry a bit of any thing in the world has the naygur. He don't 
 own his own children, Sir ; not avin the flesh on his bones." 
 
 " Your kindred, where 1 live, are not of your way of thinking." 
 
 " An' where may that be, yer honor ?" 
 
 " In New York." 
 
 " Oh, yis, I know ; they's all Dimocrats there, an' Fernandy 
 Wud Dimocrats at that bad luck to thim. If you'd loike to 
 kinvart 'em, Sir, jest send 'em out here. I warrant ye they 
 won't be four an' twenty 'oours in the State till they's Black 
 Republicans as black as the naygurs themselves. An Irish- 
 man's a heart in him, Sir, an', be gorry, he can't see the poor 
 craytures wid his own eyes widout havin' a feller feelin' fur 
 'em." 
 
 " Well, good-by, and good luck to you." 
 
 " Good-by, an' good luck to yersetf, yer honor ;" and he 
 called out as I passed up the stairway, " Go straight on, yer 
 honor, an' say nothin' to nobody ; but ax fur the Gunnel, an' 
 ye'll find him, right forninst the Guv'ner's room, ye mind, its 
 over the dhoor."
 
 THE NASHVILLE PKI30N. G3 
 
 I found the " Governor's room," in blazing gilt, " over the 
 dhoor," and entered the opposite apartment. I had less diffi- 
 culty than I had anticipated in procuring access to the prison. 
 The potent " open sesame" were certain names I carried in my 
 pocket, and in less than half an hour I was on my way elate 
 with the expectation of shortly seeing " nay Southern friends." 
 
 The Nashville Penitentiary was burned at the taking of the 
 city by the Union forces. The building now used as a State 
 Prison is located about a mile outside of the city limits, and is 
 of brick, surrounded by a high wall covering an area of perhaps 
 two acres. It was built, as I learned from a marble slab im- 
 bedded in the wall over the doorway, in 1828, and looks sub- 
 stantial enough to last for a dozen centuries. As I approached 
 its broad entrance-way, I saw at my right, in a spacious yard 
 surrounded by a low stone fence, a hundred or more motley- 
 uniformed Confederates, engaged in the favorite out-door occu- 
 pations of their class, such as " seven-up," " quoits," " pitch and 
 toss," and " chuck-a-luck." A sad-visaged man, dressed in seedy 
 black, was pacing to and fro among them, now and then paus- 
 ing to gaze abstractedly at the players, and again walking on, 
 his eyes fixed on the distance, as if searching for some sign of 
 "the good time" which every mortal thinks is "coming." To 
 him, poor man, it is a long way off, for he will not go out, he 
 says, until the South is independent. He was the political 
 editor of The Baptist Standard, and refusing to take the oath 
 of allegiance, has been confined there seven long months. A 
 few more decently clad persons were in the assemblage, but 
 much the larger portion were the most wretched specimens of 
 " white trash" I had ever seen. In all sorts of habiliments 
 coatless, hatless, shoeless, with matted hair and dirt-incrusted
 
 64- DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 faces, they seemed recently exhumed from some pig-sty or 
 barn-yard. Love of " our native soil," with them, was evidently 
 a living sentiment. 
 
 Passing on, I asked the guard at the doorway to call the 
 keeper. That gentleman soon appeared, and I made known to 
 him my business. 
 
 " No persons of those names are here, or have been here, 
 Sir !" 
 
 And such is the vanity of human pursuits ! I had travelled 
 a thousand miles on a fruitless errand ! Vexed and disappointed, 
 I was turning away, when the keeper politely said: 
 
 " You look tired ; won't you walk in and sit down ?" 
 
 I followed him into the prison, and after I had rested a while 
 he invited me to look through it. It is in two divisions, one 
 devoted to criminals, the other to prisoners of war. None of 
 the latter are confined in cells, but, during the day, are allowed 
 to range freely Over the yard and the several floors of the build- 
 ing. At night they are locked into roomy apartments, where 
 often a dozen, and sometimes twenty, camp down together on 
 straw mattresses spread on the floor. The sleeping accommo- 
 dations are not much to boast of, but they are, no doubt, far 
 superior to what the prisoners are accustomed to in Dixie. As 
 we were passing over the second floor the keeper said to me : 
 
 " In the further room is the Colonel of the first Tennessee 
 cavalry Colonel Brewer, formerly a lawyer in this place. He 
 was taken at Brentwood, some five weeks ago. He is a very 
 sociable, gentlemanly man, and would be glad to see you. Will 
 you go in ?" 
 
 " No, thank you, I'll not intrude upon him." 
 
 " He'll consider it no intrusion. I'll ask him."
 
 THE NASHVILLE PRISON. 65 
 
 He rapped at the door and a voice called out, " Come in." 
 
 " Ah, Colonel, good-morning," said the keeper, stepping into 
 the apartment. " I'm showing this gentleman over the building, 
 lie's right from the North, and I knew you'd like to see him." 
 
 " Most certainly I should. Ask him in." 
 
 As I entered, the prisoner measured me with a rapid glance ; 
 then, without rising, held out his hand, saying cordially, " I'm 
 glad to see you, Sir ; pray be seated. Mr. Keeper, be so good 
 as to hand a chair." 
 
 " No, excuse me, Sir," I replied ; " I'll not stay ; I'll not in- 
 trude on you in your present circumstances." 
 
 " My present circumstances are the very reason you should, 
 Sir. I see no one, except the sentinel, from one week to an- 
 other. I've nothing to look at but these blank walls, and the 
 ' human face divine' has grown wonderfully attractive to me. 
 It's as pleasant as thoughts of home. . So pray, sit down. 
 I'll return the favor to the first one of your ' countrymen' who 
 falls into my hands." 
 
 Thus entreated, I could not decline. As I took the proffered 
 seat, I glanced around the apartment. It was spacious and 
 well lighted by mullioned windows. Along its sides were 
 ranged half a dozen camp beds ; and as many chairs, and two 
 small tables straggled about the floor. Its walls were not over- 
 cleanly, but the floor was nicely sanded, and the whole had a 
 tidy, comfortable appearance. It was evidently reserved for 
 the better class of political prisoners. Its occupant was a 
 man of about thirty-five, and of decidedly prepossessing appear- 
 ance. He had a fine, intellectual face, and long brown hair, as 
 soft and glossy as a woman's ; imt a full, dark eye, wide, strong 
 jaws, and a firmly cut mouth, showed him possessed of a manly,
 
 66 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 determined character. I saw at a glance that he was no com- 
 mon man. He was dressed in the Confederate uniform, and as 
 he lay on the outside of a cot, in a half-recumbent attitude, he 
 every now and then moved uneasily, as if in pain. Seeing this 
 I said: 
 
 " Are you wounded ?" 
 
 " Yes ; your boys gave me a pill when they captured me. 
 The ball entered here," opening his shirt, and showing a large 
 scar just below his heart. "The flesh has healed, but the ribs 
 are not yet well knit together. It bothers me some to keep an 
 easy position. But, tell me, what is your name, and where do 
 you live?" 
 
 I told him. 
 
 " And do you know a gentleman of your name let me see, 
 what is his first name ? , I think," 
 
 " I can't say that I know him, though I ought to. I'm the 
 man himself." 
 
 " You are !" and raising himself on his elbow he shook me 
 again warmly by the hand. " I'm delighted to know you. I've 
 heard Dick speak often of you." 
 
 " I know him well ; we were intimate friends for twenty 
 years." 
 
 " So he's told me. We're been all through the war together. 
 He's a prince of a fellow. Davis has just made him a general. 
 But he says you've turned Abolitionist." 
 
 " Not exactly that ; but I go for putting you rebels down, 
 and I think it can't be done without taking away your slaves." 
 
 " But you can't put us down," he replied, good-humoredly ; 
 " you'll have to crush our military power before you reach the 
 darkies, and you ought to know you can't do that."
 
 THE 2TASHVILLE PKISON. 
 
 " I don't know it It's a mere question of time and num 
 bers : three against one are sure to conquer in the long run." 
 
 " When the three have brains ; bat, you see, TOOT three 
 havenV 
 
 "I know your generals hare thus far shown more ability 
 than ours ; but occasions are sore to develop men, though it 
 may take time. How long was h before the English Revolu- 
 tion produced Cromwell, an J the French, Napoleon f* 
 
 A long time, I know. But generals are not what you 
 want. You have them now. Too have Rosecrans, and Banks, 
 and Grant and lit:' . ^herridan down there at Murfrees- 
 
 boro. Either of them is a match for any leader we hare, and 
 Rosecrans is head and shoulders above any general on this 
 continent. He ha? a great organizing, military mind. He 
 checkmated Lee so handsomely in Western Virginia that Lee 
 himself isn't ashamed to own it If v* had him we'd whip you 
 in ninety days ; but you shut him up, without supplies or horses, 
 where he can do nothing, and where our cavalry can walk round 
 him, as a clown walks round the pole at a circus. It is not gen- 
 erals you want You want brains. You want an Administra: 
 
 u But we think we have one," I answered, laughing ; " slow, 
 it may be, but sure ; and * as honest as the times allow.' " 
 
 u Slow, it's true ; but honest ! Talk of its being honest, 
 with Stanton in it ! a man as corrupt as sin, as venal as a Tombs 
 lawyer ! and as ignorant as a darkey. And you trust the man- 
 agement of a great war to him ! But, it suits us exactly. It 
 convinces me the Almighty means we shall be free." 
 
 You never will be free. Your Government is a despotism 
 already, and whatever may be said of ours, our liberties are safe 
 with it"
 
 68 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 " Liberties ! There's an awful amount of cant about that 
 word. Our people are as free as people should be. This idea 
 of universal suffrage making a small sovereign of every 
 ignorant clodhopper who comes into the country, is played 
 out. We've tried it under the old Government, and had 
 enough of it. Republican institutions are a failure, and you'll 
 be convinced of it before many years." 
 
 A two hours' conversation, ranging over these and kindred 
 subjects, ensued between the Colonel and myself, and in the 
 course of it he stated, that it is the purpose of the rebel 
 leaders to found an elective monarchy, and that they had that 
 design at the inception of the Rebellion. " I own no slaves," 
 he said, " and am therefore not personally interested in sustain- 
 ing the institution. I am fighting for something that I can 
 leave to those after me a title that can be perpetuated in my 
 family ; and I know, whether I live or die, I shall be success- 
 ful ; for, if I am killed, my country will do me justice in my 
 children." 
 
 He spoke freely and openly of this. " I am willing," ho 
 said, " that all mankind should know it. The time has gone 
 by when it was policy to conceal it from our poorer classes. 
 We have them now where they must submit, and with the rest 
 of the world England, France, Spain, and even Russia, which 
 now so cottons to the North it will vastly help us." 
 
 He expressed the opinion that a rupture is imminent between 
 England and the United States. "England, till now, has 
 covertly played into our hands. She will soon throw off the 
 mask, and do overt acts that will make war inevitable, if the 
 Northern people have a spark of manhood or self-respect 
 left."
 
 THE NASHVILLE PRISON. 69 
 
 If Vicksburg had not fallen if Lee had not been defeated 
 if the Copperhead leaders had not been foiled in their attempt 
 to force New York into the Rebellion, what the rebel Colonel 
 predicted might, ere this, have proved true.
 
 70 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 C H A P T E R VI. 
 
 THE ARMY CHAPLAIN. 
 
 WALKING slowly back through the open fields, I came, at the 
 distance of a short half mile from the prison, upon the white 
 tents of a regiment of infantry. A few sentinels were pacing 
 to and fro among them, but they were otherwise deserted. 
 Near by, however, under the broad branches of a mammoth 
 maple, the denizens of the canvas city were gathered around a 
 spare, gray-haired, thin-visaged man, dressed in a stiff black 
 stock, a check negliye shirt, and blue lower garments, who, in 
 his shirt sleeves, was holding forth on the beauties of Freedom. 
 Attracted by his earnest manner, and his rich, mellow voice, 
 which rang out on the still air like the call of a bugle on the 
 eve of battle, I joined the half-a-thousand martial auditors, 
 who, seated on camp-stools, leaning on muskets, or lolling on 
 the thick green grass which carpeted the ground, were drink- 
 ing in his words as if they were the notes of an opera singer. 
 
 "I am tired and disgusted," he said, " with this endless talk 
 about the everlasting negro. I doubt not he is a man, with 
 very much such blood, and bones, and brains, and soul as we 
 have. I doubt not his destiny is linked with ours and that in 
 the coming life many, very many of his sooty race will hold the 
 highest seats in the synagogue, and look down on us as we now 
 look down on them. But that is no reason why we should wor- 
 ship him no reason why we should settle him comfortably in
 
 THE ARMY CHAPLAIN. 71 
 
 his master's easy chair, and let him idle away his life smok- 
 ing bad tobacco and drinking mean whiskey, \vhile we are 
 fighting for his freedom. No, boys, give him freedom every 
 man, whatever his color, is entitled to that but make him 
 fight for it. Make him do what we have to do work out our 
 own salvation on hard tack and salt pork, with often not half 
 enough of that. Tell him that John Brown is a marching on, 
 but ' marching on' over Tennessee roads, with sore feet and 
 weary legs, and the mud over his boots ; and tell him, too, that 
 the black man, if he would be free, must follow where John 
 Brown leads. If he will not do this give him Hail Columbia, 
 and never let his ugly face be seen among you again. 
 
 " And those of you who worship the ebony idol, who in 
 pity for the wrongs of the black forget that our own race lias 
 greater wrongs and deeper woes than his, let me tell you what 
 is worthy of your worship what all good and true men, in all 
 times, have worshipped what they have fought, and suffered, 
 and died for, with songs on their lips and joy in their hearts 
 and then, if you persist in shutting your eyes to every thing in 
 heaven and earth but the black man, you are past all hope, and 
 ' may God have mercy on your souls.' 
 
 " What I would have you worship is Freedom white Free- 
 dom FREEDOM FOR ALL MEN. Poets have sung of it as a 
 beautiful maiden, glowing as the dawn, radiant as the stars, 
 smiling as the sun when he first looked on the earth. They 
 have said that her throne is the glory of Heaven, her light the 
 hope of the world ; that her home is the bosom of God, her 
 resting-place the hearts of men; that she has crowned the 
 earth with beauty, and filled its dwellings with joy ; that its 
 fragrant fields waft her incense, and its gorgeous cities speak
 
 72 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 her praise; that on lowly cots an-1 lofty mansions, on teeming 
 workshops and hallowed temples, her name is written written 
 in letters that will outlast the marble, and grow in splendor 
 forever. And this is true ; but, I have seen her stripped of her 
 glory a wanderer and a fugitive in the earth. I htive seen her 
 fleeing from the haunts of men, and hiding away among the 
 rocks and caves of the wilderness. I have seen her back 
 scarred with lashes, and her limbs quivering with pain ; her soul 
 racked with anguish, and her body tortured with fire ; I have 
 seen her weeping like Rachel for her children weeping amid 
 the ruins of all she loved ; and, worse than this, I have seen 
 her fainting in her misery and grovelling in her shame, and I 
 have heard her deny the God who made her and the heaven 
 from which she came ! 
 
 " And all this I have seen here in this land, every inch of 
 whose soil is wet with the blood our fathers shed to make it 
 free! 
 
 " And shall this longer be ? Shall we shut our eyes and steel 
 our hearts to the woes of the white man, while we weep salt 
 tears over the wrongs of the black ? Shall we let this accursed 
 race of men-stealers and women-whippers go free when the 
 slave is liberated ? Or, shall we say to them, take your foot 
 from off the neck of the poor white, release his soul from its 
 bondage a bondage more galling than the fetters of the slave 
 give him the light of heaven and the knowledge of earth, 
 and let his children know there is a God and a life to come. 
 Shall we not say this ? Shall we be men if we say less ? What 
 one of you will consent that this war shall end till the white 
 man, as well as the black, be Free ?" 
 
 And then the Chaplain descanted on the condition of the
 
 THE AKMY CHAPLAIN. 73 
 
 poor white man and on the system and the men that have made 
 him what he is ; and for another half hour I listened to as odd 
 a medley of slang and poetry, highfkluten and quaint eloquence, 
 as ever fell from preacher's lips. 
 
 When a hymn was sung and a benediction said, I turned 
 slowly away and resumed my walk towards the city. As I 
 neared the camp I saw the Chaplain, still divested of his coat, 
 approaching me at a brisk pace. As he carne opposite, I in- 
 stinctively touched my hat to him, and, returning the salutation, 
 he said : "A pleasant evening, Sir." 
 
 " Very pleasant," I replied. " Let me thank you, Sir, for 
 the very eloquent address I have just listened to." 
 
 " Let me thank you, Sir, for your flattering opinion of it. 
 Not all, however, who praise my sermons, subscribe to my docf- 
 trines." 
 
 " I heard nothing to cavil at. You think the white trash 
 more to be pitied than the black slaves, and that the slave-owner 
 must be shorn of his power to give the poor man a chance to 
 rise." 
 
 "I do ; and that is reason enough for freeing the negro. The 
 slaveholders more than the slave system, are the curse of this 
 country ; less than a hundred thousand of them have ruled i$ 
 for fifty years." 
 
 " I know it. I gave that idea to the public toore than a 
 year ago." 
 
 "Did you? In what?" 
 
 I told him, and the announcement secured me a cordial 
 grasp of his hand, a hearty " God bless you," and an urgent re- 
 quest to join him at dinner. Being curious to see more of so 
 original a character, T accepted the invitation.
 
 4 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 The Chaplain's " lodge" was at the further end of the en- 
 campment, and looked down a well-swept, gravelled avenue, 
 which the soldiers had built between the two rows of canvas 
 houses. It was much more spacious than those about it. its 
 roof was formed of two " shelter-tents," meeting together at the 
 ridge, and its two gables were constructed of triangular pieces 
 of coarse cotton cloth. One end and its two sides were covered 
 with strips of weather-boarding, roughly nailed to short stakes, 
 and showing, by the vestiges of paint which still adhered to 
 them, that they had already done service on some of the dis- 
 mantled dwellings in the vicinity. Two camp-cots, several am- 
 putated chairs, a small, unpainted pine table, two /or three 
 travelling trunks, and an old negro to all appearance old 
 enough to have been with his forefather, Ham, in the Ark 
 who lay fast asleep in one corner, composed the furniture of 
 the interior. 
 
 Tendering me one of the broken-backed chairs, the Preacher 
 touched the negro lightly with his foot, and said to him: 
 " Wake up, Julius. Wake up." As the ancient African 
 turned over and slowly opened his eyes, the Parson continued : 
 " Come, old fellow, order dinner dinner for three, and then 
 give us a taste of whiskey-punch. D'ye hear?" 
 
 "Yas, yas, Massa, I yeres. I'll git 'em quicker no time. 
 Wat a powerful sermon dat wus o'yourn, massa powerful," re- 
 plied the black, as, raising himself from the ground, first on one 
 knee, and then on the other, and steadying himself by one of 
 the camp-cots, he painfully clambered to his feet. When he 
 had reached his highest altitude he might have been four feet 
 * and ten inches from the enormous brogans which formed his 
 base of operations ; but if nature had denied him height, she
 
 THE ARMY CHAPLAIN. 75 
 
 had, true to her system of " compensation," given him breadth 
 and thickness. He certainly measured four feet around the 
 hips, and across the chest on his back was a protuberance as 
 large as a bushel basket sonic unknown quantity I did not 
 even guess at. With his low stature, his hump-back, his white, 
 frizzled locks, and his short, bandy legs, which bowed in like a 
 cow's horns, he might have been taken for Richard III., risen 
 from Bosworth field, and, in his old age, turned negro preacher. 
 
 "Yes, powerful," rejoined the parson, "but mighty little you 
 heard of it. You were fast asleep the whole time." 
 
 "Well, Massa, but I yeard it. Dis pore ole body wus 
 a sleepin' down dar, but de sperrit soared 'way ter you it 
 did Massa; it yeard ebery word ebery word." 
 
 " What was the text ?" 
 
 " I does'nt zactly 'member, ' Massa Parson," rejoined the 
 black, manipulating his wool in the manner peculiar to his 
 race ; " I does'nt zactly 'member, but I tinks it wus suffin' 
 loike de Lord am good ter all dat lub Him. Suffin? loike dat, 
 Massa." 
 
 " No, you old sinner, it wasn't any thing like it It was : 
 ' Without are dogs and sorcerers, and whosoever loveth and 
 maketh a lie.' And that's where you'll get, old man, if you 
 don't give up your everlasting lying. But come, stir your 
 stumps. Order dinner and get the whiskey." 
 
 The old black rolled himself off. When he was out of hear- 
 ing, I said to the Parson : " You chose your body -servant for 
 his beauty, I suppose." 
 
 " No, I didn't. I chose him for his piety. There is more of 
 the spirit of Christ in that old darky than I ever knew in a hu- 
 man being. I'll bet my best sermon against a glass of whiskey
 
 70 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 that he'll be in heaven a thousand years before any white man 
 living." 
 
 " That's great odds," I replied, laughing; "but he will lie." 
 
 "That isn't his fault. It's one of the effects of Slavery. 
 Slavery has forced him to be a cringing sycophant all his life, 
 and he can't throw off the habit all at ince. Habits are like 
 mosses growing to a tree they must be loosened gently, gradu- 
 ally ; if you strip them off violently, you kill the tree." 
 
 " But somehow, I've always associated a comely form with a 
 beautiful soul. How can such goodness dwell in such a body 
 as his ?" 
 
 " It is not the body that expresses the soul it is the face. 
 Look at his, and tell me if you do not see heaven reflected in 
 it. I have watched it for hours as he has sat there on the 
 ground, his body bent double, his eyes closed, and his chin 
 resting on his knees ; and I have fancied that his spirit was really 
 away among the green fields and the pleasant streams that lie 
 on the other side of Jordan. I have no doubt it was." 
 
 We were here interrupted by the entrance of a tall young 
 man in a captain's uniform, whom the Parson introduced to me 
 as his messmate. " You see," said he, " in union there is com- 
 fort as well as strength. The Captain and I have put our tents 
 together, and thus made quite a cosey nest here." 
 
 " You have a very cosey one. I think a little experience 
 of this sort of life would so enamor me of it that I should be 
 reluctant to go back to gas and conventionalism." 
 
 " It would ; I came out here at the prompting of duty to be 
 a martyr for truth and the Union. But, bless your soul ! I've 
 found martyrdom so very pleasant that I'm willing to suffer it 
 every day I live. This sort is pleasanter, with salt pork and
 
 THE AKMY CHAPLAIN. 77 
 
 cold weather, than the kind John Rogers took with a hot 
 steak (stake) and a roaring fire. Do you know I think man 
 was meant for the savage state !" 
 
 " You mean for the green fields, the open air, the breezy 
 woods, and Freedom." 
 
 " Yes, you've hit it ; you speak like a poet and a philosopher 
 to boot. But, come, try some of this old saint's punch. Let 
 me see what do you call it, Julius ?" 
 
 This was addressed to the negro, who had just then entered, 
 bearing a mammoth tray, made of a piece of pine plank, hol- 
 lowed in the centre, and curiously ornamented at the edges 
 with a variety of grotesque carvings, executed with a jack-knife. 
 On it was a steaming tankard of whiskey-punch, and four (the 
 darky had evidently thought of himself) tin goblets of decided- 
 ly plebeian appearance. 
 
 Placing them on the small table which he drew up before us, 
 the old negro grinningly replied: " De 'lixer ob de gods, 
 Massa." 
 
 " The ' lixer' of the devil ?" exclaimed the Captain, laughing : 
 " Why, you old fool, you don't suppose the gods drink whiskey- 
 toddy, do you ?" 
 
 " Ob course dey does, massa Cap'n : doan't dey hab eberyting 
 whot's good in heaben ? an' haint whiskey-toddy, sech as ole 
 Jule make, jess 'bout de best ting you knows on now, haint 
 it, massa Cap'n ?" 
 
 " Yes, it is, Jule. And now fill up, old boy one for your- 
 self and let us drink to the day when we shall all drink toddy 
 together in heaven." 
 
 We all rose and solemnly drained the cups. When they 
 were replaced on the table, the parson remarked:
 
 73 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 " There is nothing so unreasonable in Jule's theory as may at 
 first appear. Not that I suppose they drink whiskey-punch in 
 heaven, but the connection between the spirit and the body is 
 so intimate that I can easily conceive of our earthly appetites 
 clinging to us after the soul has thrown off its grosser covering. 
 In that, and in the impossibility of gratifying their depraved 
 longings, much of the torment of bad men in the future life 
 may consist." 
 
 Amused at the oddity of the idea, I replied : " Undoubtedly 
 it may, and I'll give you a fact that supports the theory com- 
 pletely. It was given to me by a distinguished gentleman a 
 Spiritualist. He says that an eminent lawyer his intimate 
 friend, and an inveterate tobacco chewer died and came to 
 him about an hour afterwards. They had a long conversation 
 together, and in the coulee of it he asked the lawyer what his 
 strongest desire was when he first awoke to consciousness in the 
 other life. 'I wanted a chew of tobacco like the devil,' was 
 the lawyer's reply." 
 
 At this the Captain broke into a boisterous fit of laughter, 
 in which even the sable saint joined. As soon as he could 
 speak, the officer exclaimed : " He's into you, Parson ; you 
 must look out our friend is a bit of a wag." 
 
 "But it'm de trufh, Massa Cap'n," earnestly chimed in the 
 negro, who had seated himself on the ground, and was busily 
 nursing his calves and stroking his knees with his chin. It'm 
 de trufh haint I seed dcm dark, bad sperrets, hangin' round 
 doggeries, an' dem low places whar de Secesh hab dar shindies, 
 jess ter git a smell on'y a little smell ob dat ar mis' able stuff 
 dey call Knock-em-stiff. An' dat haint no sech stuff as dis, 
 Massa Cap'n ; taint no sech stuff as dis, I shores you," and
 
 THE ARMY CHAPLAIN. 79 
 
 raising his mug, which he had slyly filled again, he drained it 
 to the bottom. 
 
 " Shut up, Jule, you don't know any thing about such big 
 gentlemen," exclaimed the Captain. 
 
 " I don't know Euffin 'bout any gemmen whot chaws ' backer," 
 rejoined the darky who seemed to be a privileged character 
 " but I knows lots o' cap'ns whot does it, and does it so bad 
 dat I'se afeared dey'll neber git ober it, neber." 
 
 " Captain," exclaimed the Parson, laughing heartily, " I've 
 told you Jule is too smart for you. But come, old fellow, hur- 
 ry up that dinner I'm as hungry as a bear." 
 
 The negro slowly picked himself up and waddled out of the 
 tent. 
 
 "That darky is no fool," I remarked, when he had gone. 
 
 " No, he is as smart as any white man I ever knew. He's 
 of good stock. Though dwarfed and misshapen, he has every 
 mark of good blood about him," replied the Chaplain. 
 
 " What do you mean by ' good blood ?' he's as black as mid- 
 night." 
 
 " I mean he has a fine physical organization as fine as a 
 white man's. The souls of all men, I take it, are essentially 
 alike. Men differ only in organization. On a fine organization 
 the spirit acts more perfectly than on a coarse one. No player 
 can get as good music from a poor piano as from a good one. 
 This accounts for the inequality of mental development we see 
 among men and races of men, and the same difference that ex- 
 ists among the white races, exists among the black. Jule is 
 one of the superior grade." 
 
 " I never heard that theory stated before," I replied ; li but I 
 have observed that the negro with cucumber-shaped shin, bab-
 
 SO DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 oon head and face, stooping shoulder and long heel, is inferior 
 greatly so to the one (however black he may he) of erect 
 and well-formed body, straight shin, and finely developed brain. 
 I have known many of these last that I have thought equal in 
 mental and moral power to the better class of white men." 
 
 " Equal in mental and superior in moral power," said the 
 Parson. " It is useless for us to deny it ; the better races of 
 negroes are more receptive of good influences, more familiar 
 with the inmost experiences of faith, and hope, and trust ; more 
 suitably organized to be the temples of the Holy Spirit than our 
 own race. The^ live close to God, are truly His children ; 
 their whole souls go out to Him in prayer and worship, and 
 some of them carry a halo always about them, as if they daily 
 saw ' the glory of God, and Jesus standing at His right hand.' " 
 
 "Yes, but is not some of this religious exaltation owing to 
 their condition ? They cling to Christ because he is their all 
 they have literally nothing else." 
 
 " No, I think not. It is the result of organization. Day 
 and Martin will, without doubt, be at a premium on the ' other 
 side of Jordan.' If St. Peter ever lets me in, I reckon it will 
 be because I shall hold on mighty hard to the coat-tail of some 
 old black saint, like Julius here. Eh, Jule ?" 
 
 " I reckons not, Massa Parson," replied the negro, who had 
 re-entered, and was loading the small table with eatables. " I 
 reckons you kin git in fru dat ar gate wid you' own legs and de 
 grace ob God. But ef you can't ef ole Peter make any 'jec- 
 tion Jule '11 take you up ahind ; you kin git up dar (touching 
 the huge hump on his back) an' ride slap inter glory like's ef 
 you wus drivin' you' own six hoss kerridge you kin, Massa 
 Parson you may 'pend on dat."
 
 THE ARMY CHAPLAIN. 81 
 
 A laugh followed, and in the midst of it we sat down to din- 
 ner. It consisted of boiled ham, salt pork, corn bread, butter- 
 milk, and strawberries, and on such fare, seasoned as it was 
 with hunger, exercise, and pleasant conversation, I made a most 
 hearty meal. 
 
 "You belabored negro worshippers, in your sermon," I 
 said to the parson after a time; "but it strikes me you're 
 something of one yourself." 
 
 " Not a bit of one," he replied ; " I can see his good quali- 
 ties, but I give the negro precious little love or worship ; the 
 poor white man has all my sympathy, and ke needs it more 
 than the black." 
 
 " I know he is lower in intellect and morals than the negro." 
 
 " Far lower. The slaveocrats have enslaved his mind as 
 they have the other's body. His degradation is almost past 
 belief. The other day, I was strolling out a little way be- 
 yond our lines, and came upon a young woman sitting in the 
 doorway of a mean hovel. She was as beautiful as Eve before 
 she fell as beautiful as I imagine the angels are who bear 
 parted souls to Heaven. She had long, auburn hair, which fell 
 over her neck like a veil of golden gauze, soft, liquid brown 
 eyes, and features that sculptors chisel for the world to look 
 at. Kaphael had a dim vision of such a face, and made it im- 
 mortal in the Madonna. She sat with her bare legs braced 
 against the door-jamb, and a little higher than her head ; and 
 the coarse cottonade gown she wore disclosed the handsomest 
 foot, ankle, and shall I say it. Captain ?" and he paused abrupt- 
 ly, and turned to that gentleman. 
 
 " Oh, yes ; say it ; never mind me," rejoined the Captain, 
 with mock gravity. 
 4*
 
 82 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 " Well then, the handsomest foot, ankle and knee, that can 
 be found in Tennessee." 
 
 "The Parson's a judge of beauty, Sir," said the Captain. 
 "In women, and horses he's a perfect connoisseur. He adores 
 a handsome form, but a pretty leg enraptures him." 
 
 "And why shouldn't it? Woman is the most beautiful 
 thing in creation, and a pretty leg is a womanly feature but 
 we'll not discuss that. As I approached this half-clad beauty 
 she took an old tobacco pipe, blacker than the ace of spades, 
 from her mouth, and said to me : ' Stranger, howdy'ge ? Ye 
 haiut got no 'backer 'bout ye, hes ye ?' 
 
 "I pleasantly told her I did not use tobacco, when she put 
 one of her pretty feet to the ground (there was no floor to the 
 
 cabin), and yelled out: 'Then gwo to ,' the hot place the 
 
 Captain occasionally alludes to ' we haint no use for no sich old 
 saints as ye is, round yere !' I travelled off at double-quick, 
 I assure you, but I cursed in my heart the men and the system 
 that had reduced so lovely a specimen of my race and blood to 
 such degradation." 
 
 " But they are not all so degraded," said the Captain. 
 " When I was a prisoner last fall, I saw a good deal of them, 
 and one of them aided me to escape. lie fought like a hero at 
 Stone River, and is now by far the best man in -my company." 
 
 " Come, Captain ; tell our friend your adventures with Tom 
 in Secessia," said the Parson. 
 
 The Captain assented, and his story will be found in the next 
 chapter.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S STOKY. 83 
 
 CHAPTER VH. 
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S STORT. 
 
 " IT is not much of a story," said the captain, drawing his 
 chair away from the table and lighting a huge cigar ; " and, 
 besides, I haven't the parson's handy way .of dressing up a 
 common incident so as to make it fit for good society ; but 
 such as it is, it is true." 
 
 " But, Captain, as it's Sunday," said the preacher, smiling, 
 " suppose you leave out some of your favorite ornamental 
 phrases ; truth unadorned, you know, is adorned the most." 
 
 " Yes ; but if you strip it stark naked you shock modest peo- 
 ple. Why, Sir, if I used as many oaths in my talk as the parson 
 does in his sermons, I should expect the earth to open ^and 
 swallow me, as in ancient times it did that old secessionist, 
 Korah." 
 
 " Come, come, you'll make your story like the parsonage my 
 folks in Illinois built for me all porch and front-door. Get 
 
 into it, and be brief; for life is short and I want Mr. to 
 
 hear some of Jule's psalm-singing before he goes." 
 
 The captain handed me a cigar, took a long whiff from his 
 own, and without noticing the preacher's remark, began his 
 story : 
 
 " It was after the great foot-race between Bragg and Buell, 
 when old ' Slow-coach' won the stakes two States and a
 
 0* DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 court-martial ; and we soldiers immortalized ourselves by using 
 our legs instead of our nrr:sket3. I was stationed at Gallatin in 
 defence of the railway, and, being short of fodder, took a squad 
 of a dozen men one day, and went out on a foraging expedition. 
 I had sent six or seven wagon loads back to camp, and, with the 
 remaining wagons, was scouring the district around Hartsville, 
 when, just after we had set our pickets for the night, about two 
 hundred of Forrest's cavalry came suddenly on us, and surrounded 
 and made us prisoners before we had even time to run. A small 
 party took us in charge, and sti iking a course due east, made 
 for the Knoxville Railroad. Nothing worth mention occurred 
 during the first two days. At the close of the second we reach- 
 ed a small village called Crossville consisting of two houses, a 
 barn, and a nigger shanty just in the edge of Bledsoe County, 
 and halted for the night. We took supper at the house of a 
 well-to-do planter, of the name of Boylan, who gave us a good 
 meal, and was very courteous to the Confederate officer, but, 
 in my presence, cursed and swore at the Union, and the ' Lin- 
 kum hirelin's,' hard enough to have shocked the parson. The 
 lieutenant, who was a social fellow and a gentleman, pressed me 
 to share his bed at the house, but I declined, asserting not 
 very mildly that I wouldn't sleep under the roof of such an 
 old reprobate as the planter. The Rebel officer appreciated my 
 feeling, and lending me an extra blanket for the night was 
 cold consented to my camping out with my men which 
 meant sleeping in ^a corn-field, on the ploughed ground, with the 
 sky for a bedquilt. The boys had made a rousing fire of pine- 
 knots, and were eating their suppers near it when I joined them. 
 Spreading a blanket on the ground, and seating myself before the 
 roaring blaze, I lit my last cigar, and fell to studying ' Ayer's
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S STOKV. 85 
 
 Cherry Pectoral Almanac,' a copy of which delightful work 
 had somehow lodged in the pocket of my overcoat. I was 
 pondering its astrological predictions, when a long, loose-jointed 
 native came up to me, and said: 
 
 " Wall, stranger, yer takin' it powerful cool, bein's yer in a 
 purty clus fix." 
 
 " Not a very close fix," I answered ; " there's lots of room 
 round here." 
 
 " Yas, lots uv it ; but ye hain't the run o' the ground 
 though I 'spect ye would run ef ye hed the chance." 
 
 " I reckon I would." 
 
 " Whot's thet yer readin' thar?" 
 
 "An almanac." 
 
 " Almynac ! Whot's thct I" 
 
 " A book that tells all about the weather; when it will rain 
 and when it won't. A man that carries one doesn't need an 
 umbrella." 
 
 " An' do it tell when it wull be fa'r fur shootin' snipe an' 
 kotchin eels?" 
 
 " Oh yes, it tells all that, and when husbands may 'look out 
 for squalls.' If you've a wife you ought to have one." 
 
 " I hain't morrid. Number one ar' bout so much as I kin 
 find in vittles. But thet mus' be a monstrus nice book ; ef I 
 could spell, I'd spill a quart o' humin grease ter git one." 
 
 " 'T would be worth that ; but here, I'll give you this. You 
 can learn to ' spell ' it somehow." 
 
 " With a look of stupid surprise he took the almanac, but in a 
 mo, ent handed it back, saying, ' I doan't mean ter 'pose on 
 ye, stranger, beca'se yer kotched in the tedders (tethers). I 
 hain't no sech sort o' man, no how."
 
 86 DOWN m TENNESSEE. 
 
 " You'll not impose on me ; you're welcome to it. Make 
 your preacher learn you how to read it." 
 
 " Lord bless ye, the parson doan't know how no more'n I 
 does. Ye see we hain't no schules round yere ; an' ef we hed, 
 pore men karn't pay no fifty dollar a yar ter guv thar childerings 
 larnin'. Dad an ' I, 'fore them dinged Fed'rate rags got so 
 thick in the kentry, nuver seed five dollar' from un' yar eend ter 
 'tother. But, I say, wouldn't ye larn me ?" 
 
 " Yes, I'd be glad to ; but I go off in the morning." 
 
 " But, 'spose we gwoed off tergedder," and he sunk his voice 
 to a whisper ; " ter night fru the bush up thar plumb tor 
 Nashville." 
 
 I looked steadily at him. There was truth in his face, and 
 in a low tone I asked : " To the death ?" 
 
 "Ter the death, stranger," and he gave me his hand; " I'll 
 draw a jug uv knock-em-stiff on the soger, an' ye kin mosey 
 off 'fore the moon ar up. The boss '11 holp us." 
 
 " Who is the ' boss ?' " 
 
 " The old man thar," pointing to the house. 
 
 " Why, he's a red-hot Rebel." 
 
 - " Ha ! ha ! He do come the Rebel powerful strong, but thet's 
 put on. He'd guv the dingnation consarn a doze of collermy 
 an' jollerp thet would clean out thar hull innards, ef he could ; 
 but he durn't do it open. He's afeard o' pullin' hemp, an' 
 kingdom come. Now, ef whot's said 'bout the kingdom ar true, 
 I'd a durned sight ruther take my chance thar, nur yere ; fur, 
 yere ye see, a pore man haint no sort o' showin'; put thar he'll 
 hev a right smart chance uv gittin' to be somebody." 
 
 " No doubt he will. All the promises of the Bible are to the 
 poor man." (That wasn't original ; I had it from the parson.)
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S STORY. 87 
 
 He then went to the planter's house, and returned in a short 
 time with a gallon jug of whiskey. Coming directly to me, he 
 said in a loud tone ; " I say, Leftenant " (I wore only one bar 
 on my shoulder-straps then), " take a swig ter warm yer innards." 
 
 As I poured out the liquor, he whispered : 
 
 " The old un' say ye mus' put plumb fur the branch ; it'r 
 'bout half a mile frum yere measured with a coonskin, an' the 
 tail throw'd in. Foller it up 'bout as fur the water's low, an' 
 ye raus' gwo inter it, case they moight git the dogs onter yer 
 trail an' ye'll come to a dade tree whot bends over the run. 
 It's holler, an' ye kin git inter it an stay thar agin I come, as 
 snug as a bar in a snow-bank. I'll prime the guard with knock- 
 em-stiff ye be along an' when I shouts ' Glory, glory,' twice, 
 as ef the raal camp-meetin' power war on me, ye put fur the 
 bushes on yer han's an' feet, like a wu-rrum ; an' when ye gits 
 thar, pike off like lightnin' chasin' a whirlygust" (hurricane). 
 
 " I understand ; but be cool and steady." 
 
 " Cool ? I'll be cooler nur Parson Plewit when death jerked 
 him ; an' they say he war so cool he fruz the whole grave-yard 
 so tight they hed ter thaw it out with light'ood." 
 
 Our camp was guarded by about a dozen sentinels, who re- 
 lieved each other every six hours. The one whose station was 
 nearest the bushes that lined the northern side of the corn-field, 
 had built a fire of pine-knots, and every now and then halted 
 before it as he walked to and fro on his round. My way of 
 escape lay through those bushes, and to enable me to reach them 
 unobserved my new friend would have to engage this sentry at 
 the fire long enough to " prime" him so " tight" that he would 
 be oblivious to my movements. This seemed no ordinary under- 
 taking, for, aside from the difficulty of luring him from his duty
 
 88 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 on the beat, the sentinel was a tough, raw-boned Kentuckian, 
 who looked whiskey-proof, and capable of " totein' a peck of 
 licker." But no time could be lost. It was already nine 
 o'clock, and guard would be relieved at twelve ; so the native set 
 himself at once about his spiritual labors. 
 
 Approaching the fellow, jug in hand, he asked him to 
 drink, and in an incredibly short time had so worked on his 
 affection for knock-em-stiff, that the Kentuckian was seated 
 cosily hobnobbing with him on a log before the fire. A greasy 
 pack of cards was soon brought out, and they went into euchre, 
 seven-up, and high-low-jack, every now and then relieving the 
 card playing with a horn, and one of the toughest yarns that 
 mortal man ever listened to. For a long time it seemed doubt- 
 ful which would conquer in this keen encounter of wits, for 
 though Long Tom that is the name he goes by is an incor- 
 rigible wag, and " immense" at telling a story, the Kentuckian 
 was no green hand at the business. They each seemed to own 
 a patent for lying, and to be running their inventive machines 
 with no regard to probability, credibility, or possibility. At 
 last, when Tom had told of killing a " sarpunt" whose body 
 was as large round as a " whiskey-kag," and stretched across a 
 bridge thirty feet wide, with " ten foot lappin' onter the road," 
 the Kentuckian shook his head, and rather sadly exclaimed : 
 " Jewhitiker ! Thet war the most oncommonest, rantankerous 
 snake I uver yered on. I guv it up." 
 
 " Ye mought as well," sajd Tom, with infinite composure, 
 " fur he war a most outdacious sarpunt." 
 
 But all this time little progress had been made in getting the 
 sentinel boozy. Mug after mug of clear " blue ruin" had gone 
 down his throat (and Tom's shirt-collar), with no more apparent
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S STORY. 89 
 
 effect on him than if his stomach had been of cast-iron. At 
 last twelve o'clock came, and with it the relief-guard. When I 
 saw him -another tough, raw-boned Kentuckian approach, 
 hope fled, and a heavier feeling came, at my heart than was ever 
 there before. I had caught a glimpse of liberty, and captivity 
 seemed the drearier for it. However, hiding my disappoint- 
 ment, I turned to go to where the boys were sleeping, when 
 Tom shouted out: 
 
 " Mr. Leftenant, doan't ye be a moseyin' off, we'se the hull 
 night afore us. The world warn't made in one day ; it tuck 
 six. I'll git some more licker, an' make ye as snug as a bar 
 in a snow-bank, yit." 
 
 Giving the last of its contents to the new-comer, he then took 
 the jug under his arm and " moseyed off" to the house, while 
 the relieved sentry again quietly seated himself on the log. 
 The latter evidently meant to levy on the fresh supply of "sper- 
 rets," and I saw with consternation that my undaunted friend 
 would have to perform the almost impossible exploit of " floor- 
 ing" two " double-lined," "fire-proof," Kentucky " whiskey-swil- 
 lers" at once. 
 
 Tom soon reappeared with the jug and three extra mugs 
 the previous drinking had been done from one and filling 
 them to the brim, said, looking very hard at me : " Now, let 
 me guv ye a toast. Yere's ter Jeff. Davis, an' may he live so 
 long as the Lord'll let him." 
 
 " I can't drink to that," I said, setting down my mug. 
 
 " No more'n ye karn't, Leftenant ! I nuver thort o' thet, so 
 no 'fence. But, bein's the toast's out, 'spose ye drink ter the 
 next." 
 
 I took his meaning at once. He had drugged the liquor.
 
 90 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 The cards were again brought out, but what " knock-era-stiff" 
 could not do, laudanum soon began to accomplish. The new- 
 comer was the first to show its effects. He played somewhat 
 wildly for a time, then, swaying unsteadily on the log, rolled 
 heavily off to the ground. The other kept his seat a while 
 longer, but when Tom, plying him with a second " swig," 
 swung his mug around his head and cried, " Glory ! glory !" 
 he followed his " departed friend," and sunk into a sleep that 
 " knows no waking" for a half dozen hours. 
 
 Giving me a strong grasp of the hand, the native pointed to the 
 bushes. Wrapping the blankets about me (the lieutenant's, 
 I confiscated), and taking a last look at the boys it came awful 
 hard to leave them I lowered myself on my hands and knees, 
 and crawled to the fence. I reached it without detection, and soon 
 arrived at the branch, up which I waded, as directed by the native. 
 
 The moon was just rising when I came upon the hollow tree, 
 and I had no difficulty in finding its opening. Its interior was 
 fully eight feet in diameter, the trunk being a mere shell, and 
 was covered with a thick flooring of decayed wood. On this I 
 spread one of the blankets, and wrapping myself in the other, 
 lay down to rest. The excitement of the escape, and the long 
 ride of the previous day, had so fatigued me that I soon sank 
 into a deep slumber. How long I slept I do not know, but 
 when I awoke the day was " about an hour by sun," and a small 
 army of men and dogs were howling outside of my retreat, as 
 if a legion of infernal devils had been let loose about me. 
 
 " I tell you he has waded either up or down the run," said a 
 voice I recognized at once as that of the Rebel lieutenant ; " the 
 dogs don't track him over there. lie must have hid somewhere 
 near the stream."
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S STOEY. 91 
 
 " Lord bless ye, Leftenant, them dogs hain't wuth a tetocious 
 d n. They nuver nosed nuthin more'n thar dinners. A man 
 as wus pikein fur the Union lines, 'ud run streter nur a scared 
 wolf. I'd plank salvation agin a jack-knife thet his legs is a 
 dancin' a hurricane up thar, on Jim Potter's deadnin' (clearing) 
 beyont the mounting, at this pertic'lur minnet." 
 
 I held my breath in torture. I have heard a thousand bul- 
 lets whistling about me without feeling the agony of suspense I 
 endured during the next five minutes. Soon, however, the 
 voices died away, and before many hours I heard the faint bay- 
 ing of the hounds miles off upon the " mounting." Tom had 
 saved me ! 
 
 When the danger was over I lay down, and, overcome with 
 the excitement, again fell asleep. It was dark when my shoul- 
 der was touched lightly, and Tom whispered in my ear : " It ar 
 time ter be a moseyin' off, Leftenant. H 11 mought -be tall 
 lodgin's ef the fire war out, but it ar too hot fur us jest now." 
 
 I rose, and partaking of a hearty meal and fortifying myself 
 with a liberal glass of brandy the planter had furnished us with 
 a gallon jug of genuine " Otard," sallied from my place of con- 
 cealment. We struck directly for a wood, half a mile distant, 
 and worked our toilsome way over rocks and through under- 
 brush and laurel bushes all the night. In the morning we lay 
 down by the side of a fallen tree and went to sleep. Tom had 
 brought provisions enough to last for two or three days, by 
 which time he hoped we should be clear of the neighborhood in 
 which he was known, and where the danger of detection was 
 greatest. Travelling by the woods, however, was slow, and if 
 we kept to them, our supplies would be exhausted before 
 we reached the safer district of country. That night, there-
 
 92 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 fore, we took to the high road. We walked till the sun 
 rose without meeting any one, and then "camped out" in the 
 bushes. For two more days and nights we did the same, and 
 then had arrived within twenty miles of Nashville. Our provis- 
 ions having then given out, Tom, in the small hours of the morn- 
 ing, made a descent on a planter's smoke-house and supplied our 
 larder with two enormous hams. As he threw them into the 
 thicket where I lay, he said to me : 
 
 " Won't them infernal nigs kotch it fur stealin' these critters. 
 It'll sarve 'em right ; they orten't ter b'long ter no such durned 
 hide-bound secesh." 
 
 " How do you know he is a secessionist ?" 
 
 "By the taste o' the bacon. Ye nuver know'd no sech hog's- 
 flesh as thet ter be curn by a honest Union man. Why, it'r 
 strong 'nuff ter knock ye down, an' tough it'r tougher nur the 
 yarns dad used ter tell us boys uv cold nights, in the old shanty 
 on the dead'nin'." 
 
 In the impatience of his hunger he had cut a slice from one 
 of the hams with his jack-knife, and eaten it raw on his way to 
 " camp." A fire would have betrayed us, so I drew out my 
 knife, and followed his example. The meat was rather rancid 
 and very tough, but I never before tasted any thing half so pal- 
 atable. Hunger is a wonderful condiment. It has made me 
 think a sirloin of mule superior to the finest steak ever broiled. 
 
 We lay close through the following day, but the next even- 
 ing, before the sun was well down we were within twenty miles 
 of freedom, and impatient to get to it carrying the hams under 
 our arms, we resumed our journey. We took to the highroad, 
 but had not proceeded a mile before we met six men coming 
 briskly towards us. One was dressed as a Confederate sergeant,
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S STORY. 93 
 
 and had a gun on his shoulder; the others wore the ordinary 
 homespun of the district, and, having no arms, seemed fresh re- 
 cruits. Avoiding them was out of the question, so, cocking our 
 pistols in our pockets (Tom had confiscated the revolvers of the 
 two sentinels while they lay senseless on the ground), we went 
 boldly forward. They eyed my uniform very closely, but merely 
 saying, " Good evenin'," passed us quietly. They had not gone 
 two hundred yards, however, before I heard the report of a mus- 
 ket, and felt a sharp, burning sensation in my right side, near 
 the shoulder. The infernal sergeant had shot me ! His ball 
 entered at my back, and, making a half circle, lodged on my 
 breast-bone. 
 
 Tom turned like an aroused panther, and sprang down the 
 road after them, firing his revolver as he ran. He overtook one, 
 and brained him with his pistol-stock, but the rest escaped. In 
 the mean time I was bleeding profusely. I took out my hand- 
 kerchief and attempted to staunch the blood, but could not. I 
 sat down on a stone by the road-side, and tried to look death in 
 the face, but somehow death wouldn't be looked in the face. 1 
 was bleeding at a rate that in a few hours would drain every 
 drop of blood from my body, but I could not realize that I was 
 to die then there only twenty miles from FREEDOM ! 
 
 Tom, returning in a few minutes, said to me : 
 
 " Them fellers wull raise the deestrict, Leftenant, an' all Secesh 
 wull be arter us in no time. We mus' take ter the woods, and 
 feed on hope an' tough ham till the whirlygust ar over." 
 
 " Tom," I said, " I'm badly hurt ; too badly, I fear, to go any 
 further. You take care of yourself. You can escape ; leave me 
 here ; they'll take me prisoner, but it will be my best chance 
 to get at a doctor."
 
 94: DOWN IN TENNESSEE.- 
 
 " Hurt ! Blisters and blamenation, so ye is !" he exclaimed, 
 tearing open my coat, and examining the wound. " Quick, Lef- 
 tenant ! guv me yer wiper I hain't nary one, I allers does thet 
 bizness the nat'ral way. We must stop thet ter onst ter 
 onst." 
 
 Taking my handkerchief, he saturated it with the brandy, and 
 bound it tightly about my side. Then, squatting on his hands 
 and knees, he said : " Git up thar, back uppermos', and lay flat 
 as a fritter. It'll holp the bleedin'." 
 
 I submitted myself quietly to him, and in a moment he was 
 coursing over the open ground which lay between the road and 
 the thick belting of woods we had recently left, with a gait as 
 firm and easy, and almost as fast, as that of my mare Bess. As 
 he went along, he every now -and then broke out with some ex- 
 clamation like the following : " Whot d n tetocious villuns ter 
 hit a man in the back. D n 'um ! They wus borned in to- 
 phet, an' they'll git thar agin, yit. I'll holp 'em on the way. I 
 wull ! Leave ye, Leftenant ? Ye doan't 'spose Tom's a secesh ? 
 a dinged, rottin-souled, blue-blasted, son uv a Rebel, does ye ? 
 No ! He's wuth ye, Leftenant ter the death TER THE DEATH. 
 Didn't he say it, an' d'ye uver know' Tom ter guv his word 
 an' broke it." Then, as he paused to draw breath, he added : 
 "Yer more'n a y'arlin' baby, but nuver ye fear; I'hain't gin 
 out ; I kin outrun creation yit, an' guv it two mile the start." 
 
 And I think he could have done so, for in an incredibly short 
 time he set me down at our camping-ground of the previous 
 night. Gathering some dried leaves for a mattress, and cover- 
 ing me with a blanket, he looked again at my wound. The 
 bleeding had sensibly diminished, and, when more brandy had 
 been applied, and I had rested a while in a horizontal position,
 
 TIIE CAPTAIN'S STORY. 95 
 
 it ceased altogether. When he was satisfied I was out of im- 
 mediate danger, he said to me : 
 
 " I Jeff thet ar bacon an' the 'tother blankets 'side the road, 
 an' I mus' git 'em, Leftenant, or we's gone up. I couldn't gwo 
 it twice ter one smoke-house the old coon'll be watchin' on it 
 ter night." 
 
 " But wait till it's fully dark. It won't be safe to go now." 
 
 " Safe now as uver ; an' 'sides, Fse afeard o' the dogs. Ef 
 the varmunts shud nose them traps, we might as wull say our 
 pray'rs ter onst. An' bein's thar hain't more'n 'un chance in a 
 thousan' uv thar not hev'u done it, s'pose ye be gittin' a pray'r 
 a'ready, Leftenant a right smart long 'un, thet'll do for both 
 on us, fur I's 'mazin pore at thet sort o' bizness." 
 
 " But, Tom, if we're in such danger go ; secure your own 
 safety while there's time. You can do no more for me ; so go, 
 at once." 
 
 " Gwo, Leftenant ? Tom nuver flinched, or showed his back 
 ter a friend. Ef the thing ar up with us, we'll see it out terged- 
 der, loike men. I hain't no way purticler 'bout gwine ter king- 
 dom-come jest yit, bein's I'd loike ter guv them ar rantankerous 
 rebels a leetle h 11 fust, but ef my time ar come ; ef the Lord's 
 callin' fur me, as the parsons say why, I'm a'ready ; an' I know 
 HE wont ax me in ter the rare door, fur, though I'se pore, an* 
 ign'rant, an' no sort o' 'count ter nary one in all creation, HE 
 knows I nuver hed no showin' thet's Fse done the best I 
 could." 
 
 As he said this his voice was as low and soft as a woman's, 
 with an inexpressible sadness in it which brought the tears to 
 my eyes. I grasped his two hands, as I replied : 
 
 " God bless you, my friend ! You're the noblest man I
 
 96 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 ever knew. If I die, my last breath shall be a prayer for 
 you." 
 
 He made no reply, but, turning away, dashed off through the 
 bushes. 
 
 His voice choking with emotion, the captain paused at this 
 point in his narrative, and the parson remarked : 
 
 " He is a noble fellow, Mr. , and I don't wonder at the 
 
 captain's attachment to him ; but Tom's affection for the cap- 
 tain is something not often seen in this work-day world. I be- 
 lieve no mortal ever felt such devotion for another as he feels for 
 him." 
 
 " Oh yas, dey hab, Massa Parson ; .Tse seed it ;" exclaimed 
 the old black, who had resumed his scat on the ground ; " My 
 young massa, he got morrid, an' do fuss munf h he feel like he'd 
 eat his wife up ; but de second munf h he wish ter de Lord he 
 hed." 
 
 " Speak when you're spoken to, Jule ;" said the parson, re- 
 straining his inclination to laugh, and trying to look stern. 
 
 " And give me a mug of whiskey toddy, you old joker," added 
 the captain, laughing heartily. 
 
 " Dar hain't anudder drap, Massa Cap'n," replied the negro, 
 with a demure face. " You's drunk ebery drap, ebery bressed 
 drap, Massa Cap'n." 
 
 " I have had but two mugs, you old toper. You have drunk 
 it yourself. How much have you had ?" 
 
 " Not more'n six, Massa Cap'n ; an' dat hain't nuffin ob sech 
 stuff as dis ; you knows dat, Massa Cap'n." 
 
 " No, not for you : but get some, more at once. This black 
 Christian," he added, turning to me, " can stand liquor enough 
 to float a ship."
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S STORY. 97 
 
 " But he's not to blame for the habit," I said, laughing. " It's 
 ' one of the results of slavery,' Ji, Parson ?" 
 
 " I reckon it is," replied the preacher, joining in the general 
 merriment ; " but Jule never gets drunk. However, his habit is 
 a little expensive to us, as the rapacious sutlers make us pay five 
 dollars a bottle for decent whirkey. But, Captain, go on with 
 your story, or you'll not get through to-night." 
 
 " The next hour," resumed the captain, " was the longest I 
 ever knew ; but it came to an end at last, and Tom reappeared 
 with the blankets and bacon. A party of a dozen men, evi- 
 dently in pursuit of us, were passing down the road, when, on 
 his hands and knees he reached it ; but they did not perceive 
 him, and having no dogs, did r >t detect our ' camp equipage.' 
 
 " Again dressing *ny wound, and wrapping the remaining 
 blankets about me for the air grew very chilly as the night 
 woi'e on my companion sat d~wn on the fallen log, in the lee 
 of which I was lying, and appeared to fall asleep. My wound 
 had grown very painful, and I was tossing uneasily about, un 
 able to rest, when, at the end of several hours, he raised his head, 
 and said to me : 
 
 " Leftenant, I luck'd round a leetle when I went fur the traps, 
 an' thar hain't no house'n nigher'n three mile, 'cept thet durned 
 secesher's thet I stole the baco-. frum. Ye'll die ef ye doan't 
 git under kiver. What shill we do ?" 
 
 " Pray, Tom ; I know the Lord will lead us out of this, if we 
 ask Him aright." 
 
 " Then, 'spose ye tries yer hand at it, Leftenant ; ye's more 
 larnin', an' yer a better man nur me." 
 
 "Learning is not needed in asking of God. He sees the 
 faintest wish of the heart, and h? grants it to his children." 
 5
 
 98 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 (" Preaching is not my profession," said the captain, paren- 
 thetically ; " but, near as I then was to death, I felt very solemn, 
 and I've no doubt I could have beaten the parson at his own 
 trade, and given him as Tom would say two in the game.") 
 
 " Wall, ef wishin' ar prayin', Leftenant," replied Tom, " I'se 
 bin a prayin' this whole blessed night uver sence I seed ye'd 
 sot a hole inter ye thet moight let the life out. But the Lord 
 doan't yere me I doan't see no way out o' this but gwine ter 
 thet durned hide-bound secesher's, an' thet 'ud nuver do, 
 nohow." 
 
 " But you don't know that he is a secessionist." 
 
 " Yas I does. I'd swar ter it on the bacon ;" and, heaving a 
 deep sigh, he went to musing again. 
 
 The night, though I thought it would never end, at last wore 
 away, and the sun came in through the trees. It had been up 
 about two hours, and was warming even my cold bed under the 
 laurel leaves, when a voice directly over me suddenly exclaimed : 
 " Wh wh whot'm you doin' down dar ?" 
 
 It was a tall, stalwart negro man, who had come upon us 
 from the side to which Tom's back was turned. The latter was 
 in a gentle doze, and did not hear his approach, but the moment 
 the black spoke he sprang to his feet, and, seizing him by the 
 collar, cried out : " Ye black thundercloud ! whot does ye want 
 yere ?" 
 
 The negro made no reply, but, drawing back, aimed a heavy 
 blow at the native's face. Tom caught it on his arm, and step- 
 ping aside, and making no effort to return it, said with amaz- 
 ing coolness : 
 
 " Come, none o' thet, ur I'll lay ye out without ben'fit o' 
 clargy. We's friends ter all sech black devils like ye ; so sot
 
 THK CAPTAIN S STORY. 
 
 down yere an' tell us who ye is. Sot yc down," he added, as 
 the black showed a disposition to disregard his injunction : 
 " Sot ye down ! or I'll lamm ye till yer whiter nur Squire Robins' ' 
 old mar, an' she war so white ye couldn't see har by daylight, 
 fur the fact wus she war dead." 
 
 The negro sat down. " Thet's a sensible feller," said Tom, 
 " Now, whar d'ye b'long ?" 
 
 " Ter Squar Gibbon, ober dar," replied the black, pointing 
 sulkily in the direction of the planter's. 
 
 " An' didn't ye lose two hams frum the smoke-house las' 
 night? an' didn't the squar guv it ter yc nigs' loike blazes 
 this mornin' fur a stealin' on 'em ?" 
 
 " Yas, he done dat, Massa." 
 
 " Sarved ye right. It'll larn ye better'n ter steal agin. Hain't 
 yer massa a durned old secesh ?" 
 
 " He am dat, Massa, nuffin' else nur dat," replied the negro, 
 grinning. 
 
 " Didn't I tell ye, Leftenant ?" cried Tom, in a triumphant 
 tone, giving one of the hams a contemptuous kick, " Didn't I tell 
 ye I* know'd il by the taste o' the bacon ?" 
 
 The darky looked at the haras ; and a sudden light seemed 
 to break upon him, for he shouted out, " Yah ! yah ! an' did 
 you stole de bacon, Massa? Did you done dat, Massa? Yah ! 
 yah !" 
 
 " No, we didn't stole it ; white men doan't steal ; only ye 
 cussed nigs does thet. We kornfiscated it." 
 
 The black looked at us as if he didn't know the exact differ- 
 ence between stealing and confiscating; but he said nothing. 
 Tom rested his head on his hand for a moment ; then, looking 
 up, said to the negro :
 
 100 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 " I say, thundergust, which'll ye take death or yer freedom ?" 
 
 " I doan't 'zactly understand, Massa," replied the black, with 
 more coolness than he could have been expected to exhibit under 
 Tom's eye, which startled even me with its fierceness. 
 
 " I mean thet we is Union men, 'scapin ter the lines ; an' thet 
 we'll take ye 'long, an' guv ye yer freedom, ef ye'll holp us ; an' 
 kill ye, if ye woari't. Thet's all." 
 
 " I'll holp you, Massa. Ef you'm Union I'd do ut widout 
 ony freedom, but, ob course, Massa, I'd rudder hab dat." 
 
 " Uv course ye w'ud ; ony fool w'ud. Whot der ye think, 
 Leftenant ? Kin we trust the nig ?" 
 
 " I think so ; I like his face," I replied. 
 
 " So does I. But, my black booty, ye jest 'count on it, ef ye 
 come the varmunt over us ye'll kotch fryin' pans over a slow 
 fire : ye wull. Wall ye 'member thet ?" 
 
 "Oh, yas, Massa. But neber you Tar, Massa, I'll be true. 
 Shore, Massa." 
 
 " I'll trust ye," said Tom, at once proceeding to talk affairs 
 over with the darky. We ascertained from him that the dis- 
 trict was filled with Union men, who would gladly aid us,'but 
 they all lived at t^o great a distance to be safely reached in 
 my wounded condition. A poor white man, however, who 
 could be trusted, had a small " dead'nin' " about a mile away, 
 and to him we determined to apply. The negro set off at once 
 for his house which stood on a narrow wagon track running 
 through the woods and in about an hour returned with the 
 native. 
 
 He was an odd-looking specimen of humanity, with a lean, 
 gaunt frame, round, stooping shoulders, short, crooked figure ; 
 long, bony arms, and knees that seemed to love each other. His
 
 TIIK CAPTAIN'S STORY. 101 
 
 f 
 
 eyes were small and restless ; his nose long, thin, and hooked at 
 the end ; and his ears large enough to have been intended for a 
 quadruped renowned for braying. He wore a pair of pa.nts made 
 of butternut linsey, a coat and shirt of the same material, and an 
 old broad-brimmed slouched hat, turned up in front, and falling 
 over his shoulders like the cape of a Mackintosh. 
 
 He at once consented to receive me into his house, and to 
 keep me until my wound was sufficiently healed to allow of my 
 again setting out for Nashville. " I'se mighty pore fixins, stran- 
 ger," he said ; " but whot I hes ar' yourn, ter komand." 
 
 My wound had become greatly inflamed, so that the least mo- 
 tion gave me excruciating pain, and attempting to rise, I found 
 myself too weak to stand. Perceiving this, Tom and the negro, 
 making a seat of their arms, took me up and carried me to the 
 native's. His cabin was of the meanest sort, and, for effectual 
 concealment, my bed was made in one corner of its half-floored 
 attic ; but his kindness, and that of his tidy, tender-hearted wife, 
 with Tom's never-ceasing attention, made those mean lodg- 
 ings as pleasant as quarters under a much more pretentious 
 roof. 
 
 As soon as I could bear the pain, Tom extracted the ball with 
 
 
 his jack-knife ; but my strength returned slowly. It was ten 
 
 days before I could sit up. Then I gave Tom his first lessons 
 in the alphabet, putting Ayer's Almanac to a much better use 
 than it was ever put to before. 
 
 At the end of a fortnight we held a general consultation over 
 affairs, and decided, as it might be weeks before I was able to 
 travel, that Tom should attempt to make his way to Nashville, 
 with letters to my colonel. They would probably induce him 
 to send a party of cavalry to my rescue.
 
 102 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 Tom reached Nashville safely, and just after dark one evening, 
 about a week afterward, I was gladdened by the sound of his 
 voice entering the cabin. In a moment more his good-looking 
 face, lit up by the blaze of the roaring light-wood fire on the 
 hearth below stairs, shone out at the top of the rickety ladder 
 which led to my lodging place. "I'se done it, Leftenant," he 
 cried. " They's over ter Squire Gibbon's, kornfiscatiri' Jake an' 
 a fass hoss an' kerridge. They'll be yere in a jiffin, so ye be up 
 an' ready." 
 
 I soon dressed myself, and mounting Tom's back, descended 
 to terra-firma. In half an hour I heard the clatter of horses' 
 hoofs, and turning to my kind friends, said : " I have been a 
 prisoner, you know, and therefore have no money about me ; but 
 T shall not forget you you shall not go unrewarded." 
 
 " Nuver tork in thet how, Gunnel," replied the native. (He 
 persisted in calling me colonel, though he knew my rank.) 
 "Yer guvin' yer life ter the kentry, an' it war a rantankerous 
 shame ef we couldn't guv ye whot leetle ye's hed." 
 
 I said no more, but grasping him by the hand, and kissing 
 his wife she was a young and pretty woman I walked to the 
 door and took a seat by the side of Jake, the colored man, in 
 the " kornfiscated" buggy. A " kornfiscated" horse, ready sad 
 died, stood beside it. Tom mounted him and we rode off to 
 Freedom. We reached Nashville before daybreak, aud that 
 is the end of my story." 
 
 " Give the captain some punch, Jnle," said the parson ; " he 
 must be dry after spinning so long a yarn." 
 
 As the captain took the toddy I said to him : " And you say 
 Tom is a member of your company now ?" 
 
 " Yes, he enlisted with me as soon as I recovered from my
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S STOKY. 103 
 
 wound. At Stone River he fought like a hero, and when they 
 promoted me, they gave him a shoulder-strap." 
 
 " Then, he's an officer now." 
 
 " Second Lieutenant in my company. His tent isn't half a 
 dozen rods from here." 
 
 " Indeed, I should very much like to know him. He is a 
 character." 
 
 " And a wag of the first water," said the parson ; " if you 
 talk with him, and don't keep your wits about you, he'll 
 ' sell' you, sure." 
 
 " I'll look out for that. Pray let me see him." 
 
 The Captain went out, and in a few moments returned with 
 the " native." My interview with ^iim, and some of the yarnt 
 he spun, are narrated in the next chapter.
 
 104 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE POOR WHITE MAN. 
 
 THERE are two classes of poor southern whites, of marked 
 and decidedly opposite characteristics. The type of the one is 
 of low stature, with abbreviated body, elongated arms and legs, 
 dull heavy eyes, coarse carroty hair, saffron-hued skin, and a 
 small head, shaped like a cocc v-nut. The type of the other is 
 tall, and well formed, with a gaunt, loose-jointed frame, a rough 
 dark skin, wiry black hair, keen restless eyes, and an artless, 
 confiding manner, which, with a certain air of self-possession, 
 indicates that he knows little of the world, but feels fully able 
 to cope with what little he does know. The first is physically 
 and intellectually a " bad job," and it might sensibly be ques- 
 tioned why he was created, for he appears incapable of either 
 mental or moral culture ; but the other possesses all the " raw 
 material" of manhood and manhood, too, of the noblest type. 
 Education, discipline, social advantages, and political freedom 
 are needed to bring out his nature, but when it is brought out 
 he shows himself a Man. The first class, who are few in num- 
 ber, and fast melting away before the advance of a stronger race, 
 and a more robust civilization, are found principally on the Sand- 
 hills of North Carolina, and in the mountain regions of Lower 
 Virginia and Upper Georgia. There, a little above " the brutes 
 that perish," and a "long way lower down dan de darkies," they 
 build their pole cabins, and glean a sorry subsistence from hunt-
 
 TIIK POOR WHITE MAN. 105 
 
 ing, fishing, and a few sterile acres. The other class, who are 
 counted by millions, and are scattered from the Potomac to the 
 Rio Grande, are the bone and sinew of the South, the prop of 
 Slavery, and the hope and expectation of Freedom, for on them, 
 more than on immense armies or garrisoned cities, will depend 
 the safety and perpetuity of the Union. An unprincipled aris- 
 tocracy has robbed them of knowledge, and moulded them to 
 its own base uses, but whenever truth has reached them they 
 have shown an unselfish devotion to it, and to the Union, which 
 we time-servers and money-lovers of the North know nothing 
 of. In East Tennessee, where Parson Brownlow has been 
 their great apostle, and The Knoxvllle Wliiy their Bible and 
 spelling-book, they have exhibited a heroic patriotism which the 
 world I say this with a very small smattering of history has 
 seldom witnessed. The^ deeds they have done, the sacrifices 
 they have made, the sufferings they have endured for a Govern- 
 ment which has closed its eyes to their sorrows, and its ears to 
 their complaints, will be read of and wondered at, when this 
 generation has passed away. Their story is not yet told, 
 but when it is told, many a cheek will mantle with shame as 
 mine has to hear of what these poor, unlettered men, women, 
 and children have done and suffered for their country, while we 
 have been growing fat on its necessities, and looking idly on, as 
 it seemed tottering to its ruin. 
 
 From this latter class sprang Patrick Henry, Thomas Jeffer- 
 son, Andrew Jackson, Henry Clay, John C. Calhoun, Andrew 
 Johnson, Parson Brownlow, President Lincoln, and Long Tom, 
 whom "the captain" told the reader something about in my 
 last chapter. 
 
 The " native" gentleman entered the tent with a quick, ener- 
 5*
 
 106 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 getic step, and bowing respectfully to the parson, and giving me 
 a grasp of the hand and a cordial " How dy'ge, stranger?" turn- 
 ed suddenly on the old negro, with : 
 
 " Wall, old thundergnst, how's ye ?" 
 
 " I'se well 'nuff," replied the black, giving his shoulder a pet- 
 ulant shrug. 
 
 " Go to the colonel's, Jnle, and borrow a chair for the lieuten- 
 ant," said the captain. 
 
 The negro glanced inquiringly at the parson, but seeing no 
 ^answering look in his face, turned his head away, and, again 
 shrugging his shoulders, replied : 
 
 " Leff him gwo hisseff ; Jule 'tends on gemmen : he doan't 
 'tend on no poo' white trash he doan't." 
 
 " Thet's yer Christun sperret, ye black hyppercrit," rejoined 
 the native, laughing, and at the same tifne drawing the captain's 
 traveling trunk from the corner, and seating himself upon it. 
 " One of these days I'll show ye how we white Christuns guvs 
 good fur evil, fur I'll tend on ye I'll bury ye ! an I woan't pile 
 more'n six inches o' sile on yer bones, so ye'll hev a right easy 
 time gittin up ter the resumrection." 
 
 As the " native" took his seat I glanced at his appearance. 
 He seemed somewhere between twenty-five and thirty, and was 
 about six feet three inches high, with well-formed limbs, finely 
 developed frame, clear, dark eyes, and a broad, full forehead. 
 His face was open, frank, and manly, and there played about it 
 a mingled expression of kindness and sadness, which was strange- 
 ly blended with a latent mirth, that seemed ready to break out 
 on the slightest provocation. 
 
 As he seated himself he turned to me, and in an abrupt, en- 
 ergetic tone, said :
 
 THE POOE WHITE MAN. 107 
 
 " Wall, stranger, the capt'n sez ye'd loike ter luck at me ; so, 
 I's yere. I's six foot three, without leathers, weigh a hun'red 
 an' eighty, kin whip twice my heft in Secesh, bars, or rattlesnakes, 
 an' nvry inch on me ar yourn ter komand, ef ye gwoes in, body 
 an' boots, fur the Union ; an' the capt'n reckons ye does, though 
 he sez ye gwoes it the talkin', an' not the fightiu' way : an' I 
 ruther 'spect ye Yankees 'ud gin'rally 'bout as lief talk as fight." 
 
 " I had much rather," I replied, laughing ; " but I reckon you 
 might do a little talking, if you tried." 
 
 " My old muther alters said I heel suthln' uv a tongue. She 
 use ter 'clare ter gracious it war hung in the middle, an' hed a 
 way uv gwine at both eends; an' yet somehow, it nuver done 
 me no good. But whar dy'ge b'long, stranger ?" 
 
 " In New York." 
 
 " Oh, yas, I's hearn uv thet place. Up thar Nurth, clus ter 
 the Nurth Pole, hain't it ?" 
 
 " Not very close to the Pole, but in that direction.*' 
 
 " An' hes ye uver seed the Nurth Pole ?" 
 
 " No, I never saw it, but I believe there is such a thing," 
 
 " An' whar mought it be ?" 
 
 " It ' mought' be here, but it is'nt ;" I replied, smiling 
 "Boston is the 'hub of the universe' I reckon it's there." 
 
 " It mus' be a rantankerous Pole. How big d'ye 'spose it 
 ar' ? Big as thet ar maple ?" pointing to the tree under which 
 the parson had preached his sermon, and which was visible 
 from the doorway of the tent. 
 
 "Larger than ten of that placed one on the other, and spliced 
 at top and bottom." 
 
 " Jerusalamm ! but it ar a pole ! D'ye know I's made out 
 whot the yertb has sech a thing fur ?"
 
 108 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 " No, why is it ?" 
 
 " Fur steerin' ! I's bin on the Big Drink (Mississippi) an' 
 seed how they does it. But, Parson, it upsots whot ye sez 
 'bout the yerth bein r round." 
 
 " Indeed !" exclaimed the chaplain, laughing ; " and if the 
 earth isn't round, how is it shaped?" 
 
 " Loike a steambut, ter be shore," replied the native, with a 
 gravity so well assumed that, for a time, it deceived even the 
 parson ; " hain't ye seed them ar big poles ' at the fore' as 
 Jihey call it, uv the buts on the Big Drink ; an' how them fellers 
 at the wheel plumbs thar coorse by 'era. Now, ef the yerth hev' 
 nn' o' them, doan't it nat'rally foller thet it's shaped loike a 
 steambut ? An' I knows it ar', 'case I's bin whar I c'ud luck 
 slap down over the side, right onter the most relarmin', purpin- 
 diclar presurpiss ye uver seed, even in yer dreams." 
 
 Amid the general laugh which followed, I asked : 
 
 " And how did you get a sight at that ' relarmin', presur- 
 piss' ?" 
 
 "I'd tell ye, but it'r a mighty long story." 
 
 " Never mind its length, Tom," said the chaplain, " tell it." 
 
 " Wall, ye sees," said Tom, taking a ' swig* at the toddy, 
 and coolly lighting one of the captain's cigars ; " I war a 
 livin' long uv dad, over thar inBladsoe, wharl war raised; an' 
 un' mornin' dad sez ter me, sez he, ' Tom, hitch up the two-yar- 
 old he'ffer, an' fotch a load o' light-'ood frum the mounting.' 
 Now, dad hed a small dead'nin' up thar thet we wus a clarin' 
 uv timber ; so I hitched up the cow-brute, an' piked fur the 
 mounting. I'd wuckd till 'bout a hour by sun, an' hed got the 
 cart chock heapin' with pine knots an' timber, when I sot down 
 pnter it ter eat np whot war left uv my dinner fur J know'd ef
 
 THE POOK WHITE MAN. 
 
 [ tuck it burn, an' dad seed it, my supper'd be brevurated jest 
 so much. Wall, I war jest a swollerin' down the last mossel, 
 when, thinkin' it war 'bout time ter be a hitchin' up the heffer, 
 I luk'd round, an' whot d'ye 'spose I seed ? Two on the most 
 oncommonest, riproarin' big cart-wheel snakes ye uver hearn on 
 in all yer borned days, an' they pikin' stret fur me 1" 
 
 "And what is a cart-wheel snake ?" I asked. 
 
 " Why, it ar a sarpunt 'bout twelve foot long, thet hes a way 
 uv kotchin' its tail in" its mouth leavin' a small eend out fur a 
 snapper ; an' crackin' on it, when it travils, jest loike we cracks 
 a whip an then roalin' itself over the ground loike it war a cart- 
 wheel. Wall, I seed them ar two outdacious varmunts a comin' 
 outer me, an' I sez ter myself: ' Tom, you hain't got no fambly 
 an' thet's 'mazin' lucky fur the fambly but as a lone critter, as 
 yer Arnt Sal use ter say uv herseff, ye'r gone up, sartin'. An' I 
 thort I war, but the Lord know'd better, fur he seed this war 
 wus a cummin', an' he know'd I'd be uv some use in guvin' 
 the Rebels brimstun. Ye sees, Parson, I's a larnin' ter leave 
 out the tough words." 
 
 " Yes, I sec," said the chaplain ; " you're improving fast in 
 everything but lying." 
 
 " Lyin'," echoed Tom, in an injured tone, " I nuver lied in 
 all my born days 'ccpt ter Stun River ; an' thar I lied fur two 
 all-fired long nights in the mud up ter my knees. Ye 'scaped 
 thet sin, Parson, 'case ye hed brush fur beddin'." 
 
 " And I had you to thank for it. Tom, you are a trump the 
 very Jack of clubs." 
 
 " Thank ye, Parson. I sots high on yer 'pinion 'bout uvry- 
 thing 'cept hoss flesh; but in thet, I does'sist agin the capt'n 
 thet ye doant know a mule from a pile o' light-'ood. But
 
 110 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 'bout them snakes. They come stret at me, an' luckin' me squar 
 in the eye fur a rainnit, licked thar big jaws with thar forked 
 tongues, as much as ter say : ' Ye'll make a right nice mossel, 
 ye wull,' an' then kiled themselves right tight round the cart- 
 wheels. I didn't 'spicion whot they wus a gwine 'bout, fur, 
 'lowin' Fd make a right smart meal fur 'uin, I didn't see whot 
 ycrthly use they hed fur the light-'ood. Howsomever, they 
 know'd best, an' in less time nur it takes to tell it, they'd 
 hitched up, an', with the hull apparitus cart, light-'ood, an' all 
 war tossin' thar heads, an' crackin' thar whips, an' moseyin' 
 fur sundown streter nur lightin' uver shot from a thunder- 
 cloud. Ye'd better b'lieve they traviled. They piked over the 
 roads, an' through theclarin's, buckletewhit, splittin' the a'r clean 
 in two, an' leavin' a tornado we kotched up with so fur ahind 
 thet I reckon it haint got thar yit." 
 
 " But how did they manage the shafts of th*e cart all this 
 time ?" I asked. " I should think they would have caught in 
 the bushes." 
 
 " Oh, the snakes knowed too much fur thet; they turned the 
 cart clean round, and toted it hind eend afore." 
 
 " They were sensible snakes !" 
 
 " Ye nuver said a truer word nur thet, stranger. Wall, as I 
 sot thar, gwinc to'ards sundown at thet relarmin' rate, with thet 
 bore-constructor sort uv a team, I jest hed time ter think, an' 
 sez I ter myself: ' Tom, ye haint much larnin', but ye is a 
 outdacious, dingnation, nat'ral-borned fool, ef ye karn't outwit 
 two sech flat-noggin sarpuuts as these is.' I hedn't raore'n got 
 the words out'n my mouth when the new moon riz up 'bove the 
 hoorizou, right afore me, an' not more'n a mile off, with its two 
 horns a stickin' out, as much as ter say : ' Now, Tom now's
 
 THE POOK WHITE MAN. Ill 
 
 yer chance. Jest guv a long leap ; git up yere, an' take a tower 
 clar round creation fur nuthinV I did'nt need more'n thet 
 hint, so I squatted on my haunches fur a jump, an' when we'd 
 come within a quarter uv a mile uv the moon, I guv a spring, 
 an', d'ye b'lieve it, I landed right squar' on the leetle eend uv 
 one uv the horns. The snakes they run out thar tongues, an' 
 spit fire a leetle, but seeiu' it warn't no use, they turned squar' 
 round, piked back ter the deadiu', and left the cart right whar 
 they found it." 
 
 " But I thought you said the snakes had a use for the light 
 wood ?" I remarked, with decent gravity. 
 
 " Wall, they hed ; they kalkerlated on it fur cookiu' my car- 
 cass; but bein's I'd skedaddled, they toted it back, like honest 
 snakes, as they wus. ' 
 
 " And then you saw that uncommon ' presurpiss ?' " asked the 
 parson. 
 
 " Yas," answered Tom. " As the moon sailed 'way frum the 
 yerth, 1 lucked down ; an' Parson, ye'd better b'lieve it, I seed 
 a more abysfuller place than ye uver told on in all yer sarmunts. 
 'Twar so deep it 'peared ter stretch ter the vury eend uv crea- 
 tion, an' so dark, ye rooight hev read fine preut in it by the light 
 o' sech a black thing ss Jule's face." 
 
 " And how long did you sit there on the horn of the moon ?" 
 
 " Why, bless ye, stranger, it warn't no horn at all. It war 
 on'y the small eend uv a church steeple, that riz up nineteen 
 mile frum the ground, an* stuck out jest fur anuff fur me ter 
 kotch a hold on as I wus a gwine by." 
 
 " Then there are people living in the moon ?" 
 
 " I reckon thar is, an' the tallest people ye uver heered on. 
 I doan't mean tall in statur' fur they haiut much tfir brag on
 
 112 DOWN IN TENNESSEK. 
 
 thet way, an' I war a sort o' curiosity 'rnong 'era, on 'count uv 
 my hite but tall uvry other how. They showed me more 
 hosspetality then I uver 'spect ter see agin ; toted me round in 
 a rantankerous big kerridge shaped jest loike a coffin ; an' 
 treated me ter mint-jnleps 'nuff ter flood all creation in the 
 driest spell ye u?er know'd on." 
 
 " An' Mister Tom," said the old black, who had listened to 
 the " native's" yarn without moving a muscle of his broad face, 
 which seemed made for grinning. " Bein's you's bin dar, will 
 you hab dc goodness ter say whot dem ar dark places am dat 
 we sees in de moon ?" 
 
 " Nigger kentries, Mr. Midnight," replied Tom, promptly. 
 " They doan't let darkies 'sociate with white folks up thar. 
 They hard (herd) 'um all tergcther, an' thar's so many on 'em 
 they make the air black as a thunder-cloud, which is the reason 
 why we sees 'um frum yere. An' we'll do the same with ye nigs 
 in this wurle when the war ar over. We'll turn yer hull race inter 
 South Car'lina, an' I reckon ye'll blacken the a'r down thar so 
 loike durnation thct they'll obsarve it 'way off ter the furdrcst 
 eend uv the univarse, an' see thar's been a rev'lution down yere 
 thet's altered the very face o' the planet." 
 
 The black shrugged his shoulders contemptuously as he re- 
 plied : " Whot fools ye poo' white folk kin make o' yourselves. 
 Loike as ef Tennessee nigs 'ud 'sociate wid dem white trash an' 
 mean chivarly down dar in Soufh Car'lina. You knows better'n 
 dat we hain't got so low as dat yit." 
 
 " And, Tom," I asked, " how long were you on the moon, and 
 how did you get off?" 
 
 " I karn't 'zactly say how long I war thar, case, ye see, thar 
 hain't no clocks on thet planet, nur no Yankees ter make 'um :"
 
 THE POOR WHITE MAN. 113 
 
 and he looked slyly at me, while the parson broke into a broad 
 laugh, saying : 
 
 " You owe him one, Mr. ." 
 
 " I acknowledge the debt," I replied ; " but, Tom, can no 
 one but a Yankee make a clock ?" 
 
 " No 'uns but them kin make 'ooden nutmegs, bass'ood hams, 
 an' clocks thet woant gwo. They makes nuthin' else." 
 
 " That may be true, my good fellow ; but they make them 
 expressly for the southern market. No other people are green 
 enough to buy them." 
 
 " Wall, stranger, I reckon I owes ye one now, I nuver know'd 
 nary uther Yankee but onst, an' he war 'bout so smart as ye is, 
 fur he sold dad a clock. Shill I tell ye 'bout it ?" 
 
 " Yes, but finish the moon story first." 
 
 " It hain't a minnet long, an' I kin eend the moon in a jiffen. 
 Ye sees, dad hed nary clock, an' couldn't tell when the sun riz 
 he hed a great reespect fur the sun, nuver got up afore it in 
 all his life so, when a peddler come 'long with a whole wagin- 
 load uv clocks, he war dreflful put ter't ter hev one. They wus 
 the eight-day kine, all painted up slick, an' worronted to gwo till 
 the eend uv time. The peddler axed ten dollar fur 'urn, an' 
 dad hedn't but three. I hed two thet I'd bin a savin' up, an' 
 dad wanted ter borre 'urn, but I wouldn't a lent 'urn ter him ter 
 save his soul, fur I know'd he'd nuver pay in nuthin' but prom- 
 izes, an' fur his age, dad war the most promizin' man ye uver 
 know'd on. Wall, I buttoned up my pocket, and dad eyed the 
 clocks ; an' sez he ter the peddier : ' Stranger, I'd loike 'un uv 
 them mightily, but rocks is sca'ce, jest now ; I hain't got on'y 
 three dollars in the wurle." 
 
 " Hain't ye !" said the peddler ; ' wall thet's a all-fired pity ;
 
 114: DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 but bein's je's a monstrus nice sort o' man, an bein's I allers 
 kind o' took ter sech folks as ye is, ye kin hev a clock fur yer 
 three dollars. But I wouldn't sell 'un ter nary uther man for 
 'bet money, nohow.' 
 
 " Wall, dad tuck the clock, and the peddler tuck the money 
 ind mosey'd off." 
 
 " Dad sot druffel high on thet clock. He took on over it 
 fur all the wurle, jest like a chile over a new playthin'. He got 
 up airlier, an 1 sot up later then I uver know'd him afore, jest ter 
 yere it strike, but arter a few days it stopped strikin', an' nuver 
 struck agin ! Dad wus sold an' sold, too, by a rantankeroun 
 Yankee ; an' dad allers 'counted (but mind, stranger, I doan't 
 guv this as my 'pinion) thet a Yankee ar a leetle the measliest 
 critter in all creation. Wall, not more'n a month arter thet, as 
 dad an' I wus a wuckin' in the corn patch 'un day, who shud 
 come 'long the road but the Yankee peddler. As soon as 
 dad seed him he sez ter me, sez he : ' Bullets an' blisters, Tom ! 
 but thar's thet outdacious Yankee ! Now, ef I doan't strike bet- 
 ter time on his noggin then his dingnation clocks uver struck in 
 all thar lives, I'll pike stret fur kingdom-come, ef I hes ter gwo 
 afoot." Bilin' with wrath, dad moseyed fur the peddler ; but he 
 hedn't more'n got inside 'o hearin', 'fore the Yankee bawled out : 
 ' I say, Mister, ye's got a clock as b'longs ter me. It woan't 
 gwo, an' I want's ter get it, an' guv ye 'un as wull gwo. I hed 
 jest 'un bad one in the lot, an' I'se bin a sarchin' fur it 'mong 
 nigh onter a hun'red folks I'se sold clocks ter, an hain't found 
 it yit, so ye mus' hev tucken it ; I knows ye did, case I sees it in 
 yer eye.' 
 
 " That mellored dad ter onst, an' ter own the truth, it guv me 
 a sort o' good 'pinion uv the Yankee. Wall, dad and he swopped
 
 THE POOR WHITE MAN. 115 
 
 clocks, an' the peddler stayed ter dinner an' the old man 'udnt 
 take a red fur't, he war so taken with him. As he wus a gwine 
 ter leave, the peddler ope'd the hind eend uvhis wagin, an' takin' 
 out a peck measure, heapin' full of whot 'peared the tallest oats 
 thet uver grow'd, he sez ter me, sez he : ' Tom, ye an' yer farder 
 hes bin 'mazin clever ter me, an' I nuver loikes ter be obligated 
 ter no body, so yere's some o' the finest plantin' oats ye uver 
 know'd on ; take 'um ; they'll grow ye a monstrous tall crop, as 
 big as oak trees.' 
 
 " Now ye sees, I lied a four-year-old mar I'd a raised up with 
 my own ban's. I sot dretFul high on bar, an' she got drefful 
 high on oats, an' I'd bin a savin' up them two dollars s'pressly 
 ter buy seed ter make a crap fur her privat' eatin'. So, when I 
 seed them oats o' the peddler's they filled my eye, loike the 
 camel filled the eye of the needle in Scriptur'. He hedn't guv'n 
 me 'nuff ter gwo no distance in plantin', but bein' he war so 
 gen'rous loike, I couldn't ax him ter guv more, so I sez ter him : 
 * Stranger, wouldn't ye sell a bushel o' them oats ?' 
 
 " ' Wall, Tom,' he sez ; ' bein's it's ye, an' ye an' yer farder 
 is sech monstrous clever folk, I doan't know but I'd sell ye the 
 whole on 'um, fur the fact ar 1 they's too hearty loike fur my hoss ; 
 ye see the feller's got a sort o' weak stomach, an' can't 'gest 'um. 
 I guess thar's nigh on ter five bushel, an' bein's they hain't uv no 
 use ter me, ye shill have the whole on 'um fur them ar' two 
 dollars o' yourn.' Now, I figger'd on my fingers, an' foun' thet 
 warn't more'n forty cents a bushel ; an' oats, sech as war raised 
 in our diggins, an' they warn't no way nigh so nice as them 
 went fur sixty, so ye kin reckon I tuck 'um, an' ye mought 
 b'lieve it rained big blessin's on thet peddler 'bout the time he 
 druv off. He'd altered my 'pinion o' the Yanks' 'pletely, an' I
 
 116 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 tole him he orter make hisself inter a wild manag'ree, an travil the 
 whole southin kentry, jest ter show folk whot the Yankees raaly 
 is ; fur I know'd ef he done it they'd swap thar 'pinions jest as 
 I hed, an' thet ye know would do a mighty heap to'ards perper- 
 tratin' the Union. Wall, arter he war gone, I tuck the five 
 bushel inter the house, an' kivered 'nm up keerftil in the cock- 
 loft ; but, feelin' mighty gen'rous loike, on 'count uv my big 
 bargin', I thor't I'd guv the mar a sort o' Christmus dinner o' 
 the peck measure full. So I put 'um afore her, an' she smelled 
 on 'um ravernous mad fur a minnet, but then she turned up 
 har nose, an' wouldn't luck at 'um agin." 
 
 "She found them too hearty loikc; I suppose," I said, re- 
 straining a strong inclination to laugh. 
 
 " I 'spose she did, an' I reckon they would hev bin raather 
 hard o' 'gestion, fur they wus SHOE PEGS !" 
 " Shoe pegs ?" 
 
 " Yas, shoe pegs ! The durnation Yankee hed a scowrn the 
 hull deestrict, an' found no 'un green 'nuff ter buy 'um, but 
 me." 
 
 Amid the general laugh which ensued, I asked : 
 " And how about the clock? how did that turn out?" 
 " 'Twus wuss nur 'tother it nuver struck onst." 
 " Well that Yankee was smart," said the captain. " It takes 
 a smart one to get ahead of you, Tom." 
 
 " He didn't git ahead uv me," replied Tom, with comic in- 
 dignation. " I wus three dollars inter him when I got shut o' 
 them oats. Ye sees, I toted 'um ter Pikeville, an' sold 'um fur 
 whot they raaly wus shoe pegs an' got five dollars fur the 
 lot. The peddler mought hev done it, cf he could onyhow hev 
 brought his mind to act honest, but he'd ruther cheat fur half
 
 THE POOIi WHITE MAN. 117 
 
 ^jr 
 
 pr.'ce, nur trade fa'r fur full pay. An' thet's the sort o' Yankee 
 ye's sent 'mong us, Stranger. They's done a heap to'ards guvin 
 us a bad 'pinion on ye, an' brungin' on this war." 
 
 " I know they have. I blush to think I was born on the 
 
 * 
 
 same planet with some of them. But, Tom, about getting down 
 from the moon. How did you do that ?" 
 
 " Why," replied Tom, with a sang froid that was perfectly 
 inimitable, " I jest waited till the moon come round ter the yerth 
 agin, an' when it got 'bout over dad's dead'nin', I let myself 
 drap, an' landed squar in the yam-patch, sound as ye sees me. 
 I moseyed fur home, an' told dad whar I'd bin ; an' dad sez tev 
 me, sez he : ' Bully fur ye, Tom ; yer a raal chip o' the old 
 block ; ye kin travil or spin a' yarn nigh up ter yer fader, an' 
 thet 's savin' a heap.' An' it war sayin' a heap, for dad could 
 lie loike a parson." 
 
 After the merriment which followed Tom's stories had sub- 
 sided, I said to him : 
 
 " Speaking of riding round the moon in that ' kerridge' so 
 like a coffin, reminds me of once travelling in a coffin myself." 
 
 " An' how wus it, stranger," asked Tom ; " d'ye b'licve ye 
 kin tell a bigger story than thet 'bout the moon ?" 
 
 " Not a bigger one, but one a little truer." 
 
 " Ef ye kin come ony nigher the truth then thet an' not hit 
 it, I'd loike ter hev ye." 
 
 " Well, I'll try, but I shall hit it a thing I reckon you sel- 
 dom do. It was late in November, twelve years ago. I was 
 coming from Florida with Edward C. Cabell, the Confederate 
 general who is now giving us so much trouble in Arkansas. It 
 had rained very hard all day, and when, at dark, we reached 
 Albany a little town in South- Western Georgia we found the
 
 118 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 Flint River had risen twenty-five feet. It poured down all that 
 night, and in the morning we learned that the stage, which was 
 to have taken us to Oglethorpe the terminus of the Savannah 
 Railroad had not arrived, and that the bridges over all the 
 streams for miles around had been swept away by the freshet. 
 This was unpleasant news to both of us, for Cabell was anxious 
 to be in Washington at the opening of Congress (of which he 
 was a member), and important business demanded my imme- 
 diate attention in Savannah. Crossing the streams we supposed 
 to be impossible ; so we decided to take a horse, buggy, and 
 negro driver, and attempt to head them in the up-country. We 
 would have to ride nearly two hundred miles over rough roads, 
 when it was only fifty to the railroad by the direct route ; but 
 that we thought better than waiting a fortnight in so desolate a 
 place as Albany. It would be all of that time before the bridges 
 were repaired, for people in that region are not over ' fast' in 
 such respects. We started, and riding about six miles, came 
 to a place called Box Ankle one house, and a cross-road dog- 
 gery and the planter there told us that the Kicafoonee, a creek 
 about a mile distant, could be safely swum on the back of a mule, 
 and that he would ferry us over, in that manner for a ' fa'r con- 
 sideration.' The temptation of swapping two hundred miles for 
 fifty was very great, and we rode down to the stream to recon- 
 noitre. It was fully three hundred yards wide, and the current 
 was running ' like time.' Cabell thought ' the longest way round 
 the shortest way,' to Congress, but I decided to take the direct 
 route and risk the creeks. Agreeing to take charge of my trunk, 
 and to leave it at Savannah, Cabell turned about for the up- 
 country, while I, stripping off my lower garments and tying 
 them to my shoulder, m >unted the mule, and breasted the ' swift-
 
 THE POOR WHITE MAN. 119 
 
 flowing waters' of the Kicafoonee. I got safety over, and, walking 
 on about a mile, came upon a planter, who kindly gave me ' a 
 lift' to the Relay Station of the Stage Company. Then I se- 
 cured a conveyance to the Muckalee, another creek about three 
 miles beyond Starksville. Arriving at the creek, I found it as 
 swollen and furious as the Kicafoonee, and none of the planters 
 in the vicinity willing to risk a mule in an attempt to cross it. 
 I was pondering the adage, ' Make haste slowly,' when the 
 thought of a boat occurred to me. 
 
 "'No one yere 'bouts hes one or knows how ter build one,' said 
 the planter to whom I made application. 
 
 " ' But, your negro boy here can build a coffin ;' (he was just 
 driving the last nail into a monstrous large one) ' if he can 
 do that, he can build a boat. I'll show him how.' 
 
 " ' I doan't b'lieve he kin, Stranger ; he nuver went more'n a 
 coffin.' 
 
 " ' Well, this is mightily like a boat ; what will you take 
 for it ?' 
 
 " ' The old 'ooman orter to be buried ter-day the fact ai 
 she's bin 'bove ground too long a'ready but ef ye want it right, 
 bad, I reckon ye kin have it fur five dollars.' (It was worth 
 about fifty cents.) 
 
 " ' How deep is the stream ?' 
 
 " ' 'Bout ten foot, ter the deepest.' 
 
 " ' Well, give me some tar and a long pole, and the money is 
 yours.' 
 
 " Calking the coffin with tar and some strips of old bagging, 
 and nailing a cleat across its middle for a seat, I divested myself 
 
 
 
 of my clothing, to be able to swim more freely in case of ' ship- 
 wreck,' and ' launched my bark' on the Muckalee. I got on
 
 120 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 ' swimmingly' till I reached the middle of the creek ; then, the 
 current caught the coffin, and carried it at least two miles down 
 the run to where a jutting bank had made a strong eddy in the 
 stream. Floating into this whirlpool, the coffin began sailing 
 round and round, and kept on sailing round and round for a 
 full hour, despite the united efforts of the pole and myself to ex- 
 tricate it. Night was coining on, and staying there after dark was 
 a thing not to be thought of. I was not more than a hundred 
 feet from shore, so I resolved to attempt swimming to it. Strap- 
 ping my clothes to my shoulder with my suspenders, as I had 
 done when I swam the mule, I lowered myself into the stream, 
 and at the end of half-an-hour, after desperate effort, and once 
 or twice giving myself up for lost, I reached the land." 
 
 " An' whot come on the coffin ?" asked Tom. 
 
 "I don't know. It may be there yet." 
 
 " I reckon it ar," he replied, dryly. 
 
 "Then you don't believe the story." 
 
 " Wall, Stranger, I kin gwo it all 'cept the swimmin'. But 
 the man as 'tempts ter swim one o' them runs when they's up, ar 
 uther a rantankerous fool or a Yankee, an' some reckon one 
 'bout the same as t'other." 
 
 " Well, Tom, I knew when I was whirling about in that 
 coffin that I wus a rantankerous fool and a Yankee to boot. 
 However, the story is true." 
 
 " And how did Cabell get through ?" inquired the parson. 
 
 " After various other mishaps, I reached Oglethorpe at the 
 end of seven days, and found Cabell quietly picking his teeth 
 on the porch of the hotel. He had been there just long enough 
 to eat his dinner ; so, you see, ' the longest way round is the 
 shortest way to Congress,' after all."
 
 THE POOE WHITE MAN. 121 
 
 " 'Ludin' ter freshets, stranger," said Tom, " 'minds me uv 
 'un we bed onst in Bladsoe, whar" 
 
 But the other stories that Tom told, while they might further 
 illustrate the broad native humor of the South, and that spirit 
 of exaggeration which is so important an element in it, and in 
 the Southern character, will keep till the war is over, when you 
 and I, reader, may not feel that we are wasting on idle tales, 
 time and thought that should be given to our country. 
 6
 
 122 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 THE OLD NEGRO'S STORY. 
 
 Mr pen lingers lovingly over those four companions, around 
 that little pine table, in that quiet camp by the Cumberland. 
 Each is a " character " and a " representative man" in his way 
 and I long to fill out the sketch I have outlined, and to picture, 
 "as large as life and twice as natural," the brave young captain, 
 the type, as he is, of the glorious West ; the droll, earnest chap- 
 lain, divested of his clerical clothes, and his soul broadened 
 from long contact with the free life of the prairies ; the uncouth, 
 fun-loving old negro, who, by the parson's reckoning, is bound, 
 in spite of lying, stealing, and whisky-drinking, to be "in Heav- 
 en a thousand years before any white man living ;" and the rough- 
 hewn, irresistible, and indescribable Tom, with his simple heart, 
 his sturdy sense, his rare truth, and magnificent lying, all of 
 which go to make him the type of the poor white yeomanry of 
 the South the " mean trash," as the chivalry call them, but no 
 more " trash" than is the oak, which stands strong, rugged, 
 and rough-coated in the forest, waiting to be fashioned into 
 forms of use and beauty. 
 
 What a mass of exaggeration he was ! How he magnified 
 every thing, even himself! He could " whip twice his heft in 
 Secesh, bars, or rattlesnakes. With the captain on his back, 
 he could " outrun creation and give it two mile the start." 
 Though not given to drinking, he could tote a " barr'l of
 
 THE OLD NEGRO'S STORY. 123 
 
 whisky," and then pace " a bee line on the brink of a presnrpiss." 
 Even when he went afoot, he " piked faster than a horse kin 
 trot," and when he rode, he out-traveled two tornadoes hitched 
 to a jockey-wagon and driven by a darky in livery. He " 'lowed" 
 he was ignorant, but he know'd a log from seven dollars and a 
 quarter, and if he seldom thought, when he did think, he went 
 " plumb down lowerin' " the bottom of things, and up to where 
 imagination grows dizzy, and has to steady herself with a gin 
 cocktail. He didn't believe he was " borned fur the stump," 
 bui when he got through the " National Speaker " which the 
 captain had lent him he know'd he could talk the legs off the 
 parson, though he had hard him, spout chain-lightning in the 
 breaks of a thunder-storm. He reckoned Heaven was a pretty 
 comfortable sort of a place, but not quite up to some parts of 
 " Bladsoe " County ; but " Bladsoe " itself wouldn't be fit for 
 white men to live in if the Union was split to flinders. And if 
 thet happins, stranger, who'll ye git ter make anuther DeceF- 
 ration uv Independence ? Only two livin' men kin do it me 
 an' Gin'ral Jackson, an' the Gin'ral's dead, an' me why I hain't 
 got right well inter the writin' bizness yit." 
 
 " Split the Union," I echoed, " never fear that, Tom ; you 
 can't split a rotten log." 
 
 " No more'n ye can't, Stranger," replied Tom, " an' 'tween 
 ye small-soulded, lucre-luvin' Yankees, an' them blue-blasted, 
 nigger-tradin' Secesh, the kentry ar got ter be, 'bout as rottin 
 as sin." 
 
 What a picture he would make, drawn with a skilful hand, 
 at full length " six foot three, without leathers !" Some day 
 my pen may attempt him, but now T must go on with my yarn. 
 
 On the following morning I rose early to set out for Murfrees-
 
 124 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 boro. Arriving at the railway station, I deposited my trunk in 
 the baggage car, and was quietly proceeding to take a seat 
 among the passengers, when a civil young man, in a half-military 
 costume, arrested my steps at the foot of the platform, with : 
 " Please show your pass, Sir." 
 
 I remembered having heard that summons before, and, at 
 once, drew from my pocket a sheet of foolscap ornamented with 
 General Burnside's autograph. 
 
 " This will not do, Sir. We have strict orders to pass no 
 one down without a permit from head-quarters." 
 
 " General Burnside told me this would pass me anywhere in 
 the United States." 
 
 " But you are not in the United States, Sir. Tennessee has 
 joined New Jersey, and gone out of the Union." 
 
 "Well, what shall I do?" 
 
 " Go to General Morgan's headquarters, and ask them to tele- 
 graph to Murfreesboro. You'll get a reply in an hour." 
 
 This would detain me at Nashville another day, but there was 
 no help for it, so, reshipping my trunk, I rode back to the 
 hotel. After an hour spent in parleying with General Morgan's 
 aide, another hour in waiting for a reply to the telegram, and 
 still another hour in again dancing attendance on the same aid a 
 consequential young gentleman, who will probably be a Brigadier 
 by the time his beard begins to grow (Government has made 
 at least a baker's dozen of the same sort), I placed the " open- 
 sesame" document in my pocket, and went my way, inwardly 
 resolving never again to set foot in Tennessee till the passport 
 system is abolished. 
 
 The day was on my hands, and, having nowhere else to go, I 
 turned my steps toward the tent of the Illinois chaplain. Pass-
 
 THE OLD NEGKO'S STORY. 125 
 
 ing the Governor's house on my way a large, square, dingy 
 brick building, opposite the Capitol I left my letters at the 
 door, and walked on to the open fields beyond the town. A 
 half a mile away I came upon the city cemetery, a beautiful spot, 
 with growing grass, and waving trees, and unnumbered flowers 
 growing over low mounds, and in one corner, half a thousand 
 new-made graves with little white headboards, whose simple in- 
 scriptions told that the soldiers of the Union were sleeping be- 
 neath them. 
 
 One of these graves was open, and an old negro was filling it 
 with earth singing as he worked. Seating myself on the low 
 paling, I listened to his song. These are soi \e of the words : 
 
 "Say, darkies, liab you seed de Massa 
 
 Wid de mufftash on his face, 
 Gwo long de road some time dis mornin', 
 
 Like he gwine ter leab de place? 
 He toted 'way a boss and saddle, 
 
 An' forgot ter leab de pay ; 
 So I spec' he'm jined de big skedaddle ; 
 I spec' he'm run away. 
 
 De massa run, ha 1 ha ! 
 
 De darky stay, ho I ho I 
 It mus' be now de kingdom comin* 
 An' de year of Jubilo. 
 
 "He leff ahind some likely darkies, 
 
 A suffrin" bad wid grief, 
 Fur dat dar high and mighty massa 
 
 Hab turn a mean hoss-tief ! 
 Dey greab as ef dey wus his chillen, 
 
 An' I hafif suspec' dey ar' ; 
 For dey's his nose, his big base fiddle, 
 An' his reddish wooly ha'r. 
 
 De massa run, ha ! ha I 
 
 De darky stay, ho 1 ho ! 
 It mus' be now de kingdom comin 1 
 An' de year of Jubilo."
 
 126 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 " Lamenting for your master, eh, Uncle ?" I said, approaching 
 him. It was wrong in him to turn 'hoss-tief.' " 
 
 The old man paused at his work, and turning on me, with a 
 look of wounded pride, said curtly : 
 
 " My massa hain't no hoss-tief, Sar. He neber done no sech 
 t'ing as dat neber, Sar !" 
 
 " I only took your word for it that's all," I answered, laugh- 
 ing. 
 
 " Oh, dat warn't my massa, Sar," he replied, good naturedly ; 
 " dat wus some of dem low Secesh. My massa run away, Sar, but 
 he'm a gemmen ; he leab ebery t'ing ahind, eben ole Joe." 
 
 " And did you v ant to go with him ?" 
 
 " Oh no, Sar ! / hain't no secesh ; an' I wus fetched up dis 
 away, in Nashville. Massa know'd I didn't want ter leab, an' 
 he reckoned I could shirk fur myseff, somehow, Sar." 
 
 "And how do you get on shirking for yourself?" I asked; 
 " you are very old." 
 
 He seemed at least seventy. His hair was white and his 
 body greatly bowed, and scarcely more than a skeleton. 
 
 " Oh, bery well, Massa, bery well. Union folk bery good ter 
 me, Sar. Eberybody 'pear sort o' kin'er ter ole Joe, eber sence 
 de pore boy wus a killed eber sence he wus a killed, Sar ;" and 
 resting on the handle of his spade he brushed away a great tear 
 that was rolling down his cheek. 
 
 " And have you lost a son in the war ?" 
 
 " Gran'son, Massa, down ter Stun riber; an' he wus a all I 
 hed, Massa all I hed, ever sence de ole 'ooman die ; an' she 
 gwo more'n two year ago more'n two year ago ;" and again 
 his hand found its way to his eyes. 
 
 " And was he killed in the battle ?"
 
 THE OLD NEGKo's STORY. 127 
 
 " No, Sar ; dey didn't 'low no brack folks fur sogers den. 
 Dey wouldn't leff him fight, Sar, but dey leff him be shot down 
 m cole blood in cole blood, Sar !" 
 
 " In cold blood ! How was it ? Tell me." 
 
 To screen myself from the rays of the sun I had taken a seat 
 on a low head-stone, in the shade of a small tree. When I 
 asked this question the old negro, laying aside his spade, squat- 
 ted on the grass near me, and then in broken sentences, and with 
 frequent interruptions, expressive of the intensity of his feelings, 
 he told me about his grandson. 
 
 " You sees, Massa, his pore muddcr de on'y chile we eber 
 hed die when Peter was a bery little t'ing, not no higher'n dat 
 grabestone, so he wus a fotched up 'long ob we ole folks, like 
 as ef he wus our own chile. He wus a great comfort ter us, Sar, 
 an' eberybody tuck ter him, an' eberybody say whot a likely boy 
 Peter wus he'd a sole ony time fur a tousand dollar, an' in 
 good backer times (he wuck'd in a backer fact'ry) he'd a brung 
 fifteen hun'red, easy, Sar. Wall, when de Secesh make de big 
 skedaddle, massa gwoed long, an he tuck Peter wi4 him. Dat 
 a'most broked my ole heart, Sar, 'case he wus all I hed all I 
 hed, Sar ; but it wus de Lord's will, an' 'sides it couldn't be 
 holped, nohow. Wall, Peter kept 'long wid de Secesh nigh 
 onter a y'ar, an' den dey want ter make him gunner ter a bat'ry, 
 but Peter tole 'em he wouldn't fi't de nordern gemmen, dat am 
 friends ter de brack folks, no way not fur no 'sid'ration, Sar. 
 Den dey gib him a awfu' whippin', an' lock him up in de jail. 
 He got 'way dough, an' af er mos' credible suffrin', Sar, de got 
 widin de lines. Dat wus 'bout de time dat Gin'ral Rosey wus 
 a gwine ter smite de Phillistuns wid de hip an' t'igh, down dar 
 ter Stun riber. Wall, dey want Peter ter gwo 'long wid de
 
 128 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 wagins, an' Peter axed me vvliot he should a do. Now, he wus 
 all I bed, Sar. all I hed ; an' I sot my bery life on dat boy, but 
 I tole him," and here the old roan straightened up his bent form, 
 and his shrunken features assumed a look of quiet dignity. " I 
 tole him, sar, dat he hedn't but one life, an' ter gib dat fur his 
 country, an' de brack folks. An' he done it, Sar ! He done it. 
 An' ef dey'd on'y gib'n him a musket, Sar !" (Here, swaying 
 his body to and fro, he burst into a paroxysm of grief,) " on'y 
 gib'n him a musket, Sar, an' leff him fit de Secesh but, ter die 
 so, Sar ter die so ; it wus too hard it clean broke ole Joe's 
 heart, Sar." 
 
 " And how did he die, Uncle ?" I asked when he became some- 
 what composed. 
 
 " I'll a tell you, Sar. It wus dis a way. Peter, he gwo off 
 wid de wagins, an' I gwo off wid him, 'case, ye sees, I couldn't 
 be ob no use yere, an' dar wus no tellin' but I mought do suffin 
 down dar ; sides, I couldn't bar ter be 'way frum Peter, fur suffin 
 yere, Sar (laying his hand on his heart), telled me dat trubble 
 wus a comin'. Wall, on de day ob de fust battle we wus in de 
 r'ar 'bout firty wagins on us, all wid brack dribers, an' a white 
 leftenan' an' a planter libin' 'bout dar rid up an' telled de lef- 
 tenan' dat McCook wus a druv ter nowhar, an' dat he'd jess a 
 seed Wheeler's calvary 'bout free t'ousand on um headin' 
 norf, an' he reckoned dey wus a gwine ter come down on Gunnel 
 Innis -up ter Laverne. He say some one orter gwo up an' leff 
 de cunnel know, but he couldn't a gwo, case he went fur Secesh, 
 an' ebery one round dar know'd him. De leftenan' he say I'd 
 hab ter gwo, case der wus no one dat could be speered but me 
 ye sees, Peter an' me driv de same wagin, an' hed de same 
 wages ; but de leftenan', he sot high on me, an' he gib me my
 
 THE OLD NEGBO'S STORY. 129 
 
 rations, so I tort I could gib my does ter de country. We 
 hedn't none but de wagin bosses, but de planter, he say we wus 
 welcome ter his'n ; so I got on ter him, an' rid off ter tell Gun- 
 nel Innis. (De Lord's hand wus in dat, Sar. Sometimes He 
 cut down de young saplin's an' leab de ole trees a' growin'.) 1 
 tolled Gunnel Innis whot de planter say, an' de cunnel, dough he 
 hedn't more'n 'bout free hun'red men, 'peared bery glad ter yere 
 it he'm de gemmen, Sar, dat ' doan't surrender much.' Wall, 
 de cunnel he treat me jess like I wus a white man, an' make me 
 tarry dar ober night. Airly de nex' mornin' I gwoes back ter 
 whar de wagins wus, an' dey wusn't dar, but dar, all around, de 
 ground wus a cohered wid brack men shotted down dead !" 
 
 Here the old negro paused for a moment. His lips moved 
 silently, but he shed no tears. I said nothing, and he soon re- 
 sumed his story. 
 
 " I luck'd all 'bout, an' I couldn't fine no sign ob Peter ; but 
 arter a while I gwoed down de pike, an' dar, right in de middle 
 ob de road, wus some 'un in Peter's cloes, wid his head so 
 nigh blowed off dat I couldn't a tell who he wus. I couldn't 
 b'lieve it wus Peter, but I kneeled down aside ob him an' pray- 
 ed, an' den I feel in his pocket, an' fine de Bible I hed gib'n ter 
 Peter. It wus him ! I shot rny eyes, an' groaned. When I 
 open'd 'um agin de sky was brack it warn't more'n ten in de 
 mornin' and de yerth wus brack, an' dar warn't no sun, nur no 
 moon, nur no stars in de heabens, an' de Lord hisself 'peared 
 ter hab leff de univarse. I sot dar, an' sot dar, an' sot dar, 
 right in de road, how long I'll nebor know, an' at lass de hoss 
 I'd a leff him gwo a browsin' in de woods come up ter me, 
 an' puttin' his head down ter mine, cried an' whinner'd jess 
 
 loike he know'd de great trubble dat was on me. Dat sort o' 
 6*
 
 130 DOWN IN TENNESSEE 
 
 brung me ter myseff, an' tinkin' de pore critter wonted some 
 water, I riz up, an' drawin' Peter under a tree, I leff him dar, 
 fur I'd nuffin' ter bury him wid ; an' 'sides, I tort ef he wus 
 above ground de Lord ef der wus any Lord leff couldn't holp 
 seein' him, an' so He'd be a sort o' ' libin witness' agin dem as 
 bed murdered him." 
 
 " And who murdered him ?" I asked. 
 
 " De Wheeler calvary dat we'd bin a warned agin. Dey 
 come onter de train right arter I gwoed 'way, tuck de wagins, 
 an' shot down de dribers in cole blood, 'case dey wus brack. 
 De leftenan', he sot high on Peter, an' when he seed whot dey 
 wus a doin', he tole de Secesh major he'd gib a t'ousand dollar 
 fur Peter's life. But de major, he say he warn't no nigger-tra- 
 der an' den he put his 'volver right squar agin Peter's head, an' 
 blow his brains all ober de leftenan'. De leftenan' wus a 
 'changed arterwuds, an' telled me all 'bout how it wus." 
 
 " Wall I toted de hoss off ter de run 'bout a mile back, but he 
 wouldn't a drink 'pearcd loike he knowed whot wus a comin' 
 on him, an' didn't keer 'bout nuffin' more on dis yerth. I'd a 
 yered de cannon a firin' off on de battle-field all de mornin', an' 
 I wanted ter git out ob trubble I knows dat wus wrong, Sar, 
 but I couldn't holp it so I turn de hoss roun' an' gwoes off ter 
 de battle dey didn't call it no battle dat day, but dey kep' a 
 firin' de big guns all de tune. I hadn't rid niore'n free mile 'fore 
 a shot hit de pore hoss on de shoulder, right afore me, an' kill 
 him ter onst. At fust I tort I wus dead, too, fur I was frowed 
 a long way, but I warn't hurted at all. Wall, de hoss die, an' 
 I couldn't do nuffin for him, so I gits up an' gwoes on nigher 
 ter de battle. I walk on, an' walk on, an' at lass I come ter de 
 place whar dey fit so two days arterwuds dey call it ' Hell's-
 
 THE OLD NEGKO'S 6TOET. 131 
 
 half-acre' it'm clus ter whar de pike runs inter de railroad, 
 Dey say dar warn't no battle a gwine on den, but de balls wus 
 a flyin' round dar ticker dan bank bills in 'backer times. It 
 'peared jess de place, so I sot down dar, 'long side de road, an' 
 waited fur de shot dat shud send rne ter Peter. Ye sees, he 
 wus all I hed, all I lied, Sar, an' I feel den like I couldn't lib 
 wid out him, fur it wus dark wid me, an' dar 'peared no Lord 
 in de heabens." 
 
 " Wall, I sot dar, an' sot dar, an' sot dar, an' de sogers march 
 'long, an' de calvary rid by, an' de sun gwo down, an' de night 
 come on, an' de storm riz up, an' wetted me fru an' fru ter de 
 bery skin, an' I neber feel it 'case no shot come and send me ter 
 Peter. At lass it wus jess sun up de next mornin' a whole lot 
 of cavlary, nigh a hun'red, come tunderiu' down de road, an' when 
 dey gits ober agin me, somebody cry ' Halt !' an' dey all stop 
 chock still, like dey'd bin a shot, all ter onst. Den a gemman 
 say ter me in a bery kine voice so saff an' sweet, Sar, as ony 
 music you eber yered : 
 
 " Uncle, what am you doin' dar?" 
 
 "I look up an' seed who he was I'd a seed him afore, Sar, 
 an' I know'd him ter onst nobody eber seed him an' forgot 
 him. Wall, I look up, an' tole him, all cryin' an' moanin' as 
 I was : 
 
 " Dey's killed Peter, Gin'ral shot him down wid de wagins, 
 in cole blood, an' I's yere 'case I wants ter die, Gin'ral, 'case I 
 wants some ob de shot ter fotch me out ob trubble." 
 
 " What general was it ?" I asked. 
 
 " What gin'ral wus it, Sar !" echoed the old negro. " What 
 oder gin'ral dan Gin'ral Rosey, would hab done sich a t'ing as 
 dat, Sar ? stop dar, right in de road, wid all him big officers, jess
 
 132 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 ter say a kine word ter a pore ole darky, as lie seed wus in 
 trubble?" 
 
 " Well, what did he say to you ?" 
 
 " He tole me 'bout Peter, Sar, an' he tork ob him jess like he 
 know'd, him ; but he didn't, 'case he couldn't a know'd a pore 
 brack boy like Peter wus, nohow. He tole me dat I musn't 
 grebe fur Peter, 'case he wus better off dan of he wus a drivin' 
 de wagins ; dat it wus a glorious t'ing ter die fur yer country ; 
 dat Peter 'd a done it, jess so much as if he'd a died wid a mus- 
 ket in his hand ; dat Gin'ral Washington, nur none ob de great 
 men, eber done more'n Peter done, fur he'd a gib'n all he hed 
 his life fur freedom. An' he say dat dem as done dat wus 
 bery precious in de sight ob de Lord ; dat He treasured 'um up, 
 up dar," and the old man pointed upward ; " an' called 'um His 
 jewels, an' kep' 'um in His eyesight fur eber an' eber. Dat wus 
 whot de giu'ral say, Sar ; but it warn't so much whot he say, as 
 de way he say it, dat tuck de load off my heart, an' brung de 
 light inter my eyes agin. I karn't tell you how he say it, Sar, 
 but it 'peared ter me like he'd a bin a ole brack man onst hisseff, 
 an' know'd all de trubble dey feels when dey hain't nuffin in all 
 de worle, an' hab loss dat. Wall, den he say, ' Tompey,* send 
 two men ter gwo 'long wid dis pore brack maa an' bury Peter,' 
 an den he say, ' Good-bye, Uncle,' an' rid off. 'Bout a hour 
 arter dat I yere de cannon begin, an' he wus right amung 'um, 
 but nary shot hit him, Sar, an' nary shot neber will hit him, fur 
 I prays fur him all de time, day an' night, an' de Lord hab 
 promise ter yere de prayer ob dem as tries ter be His chillen." 
 
 " Den de light come ter me agin, Sar, and I seed de Lord wus 
 
 * Charles E. Thompson, of Bath, Me., then an Aide of General Eosecrans, now Colonel 
 of the First Tennessee (colored) Eegiment. A young man of twenty-three, who onter- 
 ed the army as a private. One of " the bravest of the brave."
 
 THE CU.D NEGRO'S 8TOKY. 133 
 
 in do hcabens, arter all ; an' dough Peter's gone, an' de ole 
 'ooman's gone, an' I'se bery ole, an' hain't got nuffin in all de 
 worle, de light an' love ob de Lord hab bin all 'round me eber 
 sence de gin'ral spoke so kine ter me down dar on de battle- 
 ground. He'm one ob de Lord's chillen, Sar ; one ob His bery 
 best chillen ; His chosen chile, Sar, dat am a gwine ter fotch dia 
 people out ob de land ob Egypt, an' out ob de house ob bond- 
 age. He will, Sar, fur de Lord am wid him."
 
 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE REGIMENTAL HOSPITAL. 
 
 LEAVING the old negro at work in the grave-yard, I resumed 
 my way to the tent of the Illinois chaplain. The sun was just 
 sinking behind the trees which skirt the western environs of 
 Nashville when I entered its low doorway. 
 
 " Yere'm de Nordern gemman," exclaimed the sooty represent- 
 ative of the great Roman, as I made my appearance. " I's 
 tolled ye, Massa Parson, de Yankees can't do eberyting. Dey 
 can't git fru de rod tape dey hab round yere." 
 
 Giving no heed to the negro's remark, the chaplain, who was 
 drawing on his coat as if to go out, welcomed me cordially, and 
 invited me to accompany him to the hospital of the regiment. 
 " One of my boys is dying," he said " a Tennessee boy,woundcd 
 at Stone River. He has lingered till now, but now is going." 
 
 Walking rapidly across the open fields, we entered, at the end 
 of a short half-hour, a dingy warehouse in the very heart of the 
 city. About fifty low cots were ranged along the two sides of 
 a narrow, cheerless apartment on the ground floor of this build- 
 ing, and on one of them the wounded soldier was lying. His 
 face was pallid, his eyes were fixed, a cold, clammy sweat was 
 on his forehead he was dying. Sitting at his feet was a lad of 
 sixteen ; and kneeling at his side, her hand in his, was a middle- 
 aged woman, with worn garments, and a thin, sorrow -marked 
 face.
 
 THE EEGIMENTAL HOSPITAL. 135 
 
 " You are too late ! He is almost gone," said the colonel of 
 the regiment, as we paused before the group. 
 
 The chaplain made no reply, but slowly uncovered his head, 
 for the dying man was speaking. 
 
 "Mother," he said, "good-by. And you, Tom, good-by. 
 Be of good heart, mother. GOD will take care of you, and save 
 
 save the ." A low sound then rattled in his throat, and 
 
 he passed away, with the name of his country on his lips. 
 
 The mother bent down and closed the eyelids of her dead son ; 
 and then, kissing again and again his pale face, turned to go 
 away. As she did so, the chaplain, taking her hand in his, said 
 to her : 
 
 " The LORD gave : the LORD hath taken away." 
 
 Looking up to him with tranquil face and tearless eyes, the 
 woman answered : 
 
 " ' Blessed be the name of the Lord.' They have murdered 
 my husband, Mr. Chapl'in, my oldest boy, and now John, too, 
 is gone " Then, laying her hand on the shoulder of her living 
 son, she turned to the colonel, and while her voice trembled a 
 very little, she added : " He's all I've got now, Mr. Gunnel give 
 him John's place in the rigiment." 
 
 A tear rolled down the colonel's weather-beaten cheek, and he 
 turned his face away, but said nothing. There was a convulsive 
 twitching about the chaplain's firm-set mouth, as he said : 
 
 " The Spartan mother gave only two sons to her country : 
 would you give three ?" 
 
 " Fd give all all I've got, Mr. Chapl'in," was the low answer. 
 
 And this was a " poor white" woman ! Her words should be 
 heard all over the land. They should go down in history, and 
 make her name RACHEL SOMERS immortal.
 
 136 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 Passing on to the farther end of the room, the chaplain said 
 to a delicate young girl who was attending the sick : 
 
 "Lucy, are you willing to show your wounds to this gentle- 
 man?" 
 
 The young girl blushed, but modestly undoing her dress, 
 showed me the upper part of her back. Deep ridges, striped 
 with red, blue, and white, completely covered it ! The slave- 
 driver's whip, with a hundred lashes, had printed our country's 
 colors on her fair skin, because she had refused to betray the 
 hiding-place of her father ! 
 
 " I could tell you of hundreds of these people," said the chap- 
 lain, as he put his arm within mine, and walked with me towards 
 the hotel, " who have been driven to the woods, hunted with 
 blood-hounds, beaten with stripes, hung to trees, tossed on the 
 points of bayonets, torn asunder with horses, quartered alive, and 
 burned at slow fires, rather than deny their country or betray its 
 friends. The world has seldom seen such patriotism as theirs. 
 There is a grandeur about it which lifts these poor people into 
 heroes, and will make their story the brightest page in the an- 
 nals of this country." 
 
 The room appropriated to me at the hotel being unfit for the 
 reception of any animal higher in the scale of creation than 
 "four-footed beasts or creeping things," I invited the chaplain, 
 after supper, to a seat on a dilapidated chair in the long, low, 
 smoky apartment which occupies the ground floor of the " Com- 
 mercial Building," and is dignified with the name of office. 
 
 The chaplain was whiffing slowly away at his cigar, and re- 
 counting to me, in his peculiar style, some of his campaign ex- 
 periences in Dixie during which he had wielded the sword of 
 Gideon as well as the weapons of the LORD when the red-faced
 
 THE REGIMENTAL HOSPITAL. 137 
 
 landlord, with his hat in his hand, and a smirk on his face, ap- 
 proached us, followed by a tall, spare, gentlemanly appearing 
 man, whom he introduced as follows: 
 
 11 Mr. , this is Secretary East our Secretary Edward H. 
 
 East, Esq. You've heered uv him." 
 
 I rose and replied that I had heard of Mr. East, and was very 
 happy to meet him. Returning my greeting, the secretary said : 
 
 " I regret that I was not at home when you left your letters 
 this morning. I am acting in the Governor's absence, and shall 
 be glad to serve you in any way." 
 
 Thanking him, and saying I had already fallen into good 
 hands, I asked the landlord to oblige me with a seat for my 
 visitor. That worthy, who accommodates guests with bed, 
 board, and broken-backed chairs, at the rate of four dollars 
 per diem, looked helplessly around for a moment, and then 
 replied : 
 
 " I don't b'lieve thar's ary other cheer in the hull room." 
 
 " Never mind, never mind," said the secretary, laughing, and 
 drawing a low travelling trunk from a pile in the corner, " this 
 will do." 
 
 The second official of the great State of Tennessee seated him- 
 self upon the trunk, and we fell into a long conversation on the 
 condition of the country. In the course of it I said to him : 
 
 " You are a Southern man, sir ; tell me, do the Rebel leaders 
 really mean to establish a monarchy ?" 
 
 " Undoubtedly they do," he replied. " They have had that 
 purpose from the beginning. Their main object in bringing on^ 
 the war was to get the Southern people into the clutches of a 
 military despotism, so that they might disfranchise them, and 
 thus prevent their ever overturning slavery. If you will come
 
 138 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 up to the State-House to-morrow, I will show you volumes of 
 correspondence to prove this." 
 
 " But why was it necessary to disfranchise the people ? They 
 have followed the lead of the slave-lords blindly. The most of 
 them think slavery promotes their interests." 
 
 " That is true, but Northern ideas were working down among 
 them. In Maryland, Kentucky, Missouri, and Western Virginia, 
 they had spread wonderfully. Those States would have been 
 free long ago if the masses had not thought emancipation would 
 make the blacks the political and social equals of the whites. 
 As soon as they came to be disabused of that notion, they would 
 have voted slavery out of existence ; and when they had done 
 that, the people in the Cotton States would have asked the 
 reason why, and then slavery on this continent would have re- 
 ceived its everlasting death-blow. Slavery cannot any longer live 
 in the Union The South can save it only by separation and a 
 despotism." 
 
 After some further conversation we separated, and early the 
 next morning I set out for Murfreesboro.
 
 THE MAN WHO "DON'T SURRENDER MUCH." 139 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE MAN WHO " DON'T SURRENDER MUCH." 
 
 THE country below Nashville presented the same desolate ap- 
 pearance as that through which I had already passed. At La- 
 vergne, a whole town lay in ashes. On the direct line of com- 
 munication with Murfreesboro, it had been the scene of frequent 
 conflicts between the Rebel and the Union forces, and, one after 
 another, its peaceful habitations had fallen before the flames. 
 Its inhabitants had all fled, and two or three smoke-begrimed 
 cabins were all that remained of the once thriving and happy 
 village. 
 
 " I was in the front room of that small house yonder," said 
 Captain Firman, of general Wheelefs staff, to me a few weeks 
 later, as we halted at this station, while he was on his way, a 
 prisoner of war, to the penitentiary at Nashville, " when a shell 
 from one of your batteries entered just beneath the window 
 you can see the hole from here and exploded directly at the 
 feet of Wheeler and myself. A lady sat at the piano. The 
 piano was shivered into a thousand fragments, and the lady 
 thrown to the farther end of the room, but not one of us was 
 hurt. The general and I made a hasty exit by the rear door, 
 but our companion, in her fright, ran out at the front. As she 
 came under that old tree standing by the corner of the house,
 
 14:0 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 another shell burst over her head, and its fragments fell all around 
 her, but, strange to say, she again escaped uninjured." 
 
 A little elevation at the right of the railway was the scene of 
 one of the most heroic exploits of the war. There Colonel Innis 
 warned by the old negro I have introduced to the reader 
 with a little band of three hundred and eighty-nine Michigan 
 men, without artillery or other defence than a hastily thrown up 
 barricade of camp-wagons and underbrush, beat off Wheeler's 
 whole force of three thousand horse and two field-pieces. 
 
 " Colonel Innis," said General Rosecrans to him on the eve of 
 the battle of Stone River, " will you hold Lavergne !" 
 
 " I'll try, general." 
 
 " I ask if you will do it !" exclaimed the laconic general. 
 
 " I WILL," quietly responded the colonel, and he kept his word. 
 
 Just as the New Year's sun was sending its first greeting to 
 the little band that crouched there behind the wagons, the head 
 of the Rebel column emerged from the woods which skirt the 
 southern side of the town, and Captain Firman, riding forward 
 to the flimsy breast-work, cried out : 
 
 " General Wheeler demands an instant and unconditional sur- 
 render." 
 
 "Give General Wheeler my compliments, and tell him we 
 don't surrender much," came back to him from behind the brush- 
 heaps. 
 
 Mounting then his Kentucky roan, the heroic colonel rode 
 slowly around the rude intrenchment. " Boys," he said, " they 
 are three thousand have you said your prayers ?" 
 
 " We are ready, Colonel Let them come on !" answered the 
 brave Michigan men. 
 
 And they did come on 1
 
 THE MAN WHO "DON'T SURRENDER MUCH." 141 
 
 " Six times we swept down on them," said Captain Firman to 
 me, " and six times I rode up with a flag, and summoned them 
 to surrender ; but each time Innis sent back the message, varied, 
 now and then, with an adjective, ' We don't surrender much.' 
 Ele sat his horse during the first charges, as if on dress parade ; 
 but at the third fire I saw him go down. I thought we had 
 winged him, but when we charged again, there he sat as cool as 
 if the thermometer had been at zero. One of our men took de- 
 liberate aim, and again he went down ; but when I rode up the 
 fifth time and shouted, ' We'll not summon you again surren- 
 der at once !' it was Innis who yelled out, ' Pray don't, for we 
 don't surrender much. 1 At the seventh charge I was wounded, 
 and the general sent another officer with the summons. Your 
 people halted him a few hundred yards from the breast-work, 
 and an officer, in a cavalryman's overcoat, came out to meet him. 
 ['They had killed my two horses,' said Colonel Innis to me 
 afterwards, ' and I was afraid they would singe my uniform 
 the fire was rather hot so I covered it.'] 
 
 " ' What is your rank, sir ?' demanded the Union officer. 
 
 " ' Major, sir.' 
 
 " ' Go back, and tell General Wheeler that he insults me by 
 sending one of your rank to treat with one of mine. Teh 1 him, 
 too, I have not come here to surrender. I shall fire on the next 
 flag.' 
 
 " It was Innis, and by that ruse he made us believe he had 
 received re-enforcements. Thinking it was so, we drew off, and 
 the next day Innis sent Wheeler word by a prisoner, that he had 
 whipped us with three hundred and eighty-nine men !" 
 
 About a fortnight after my arrival at Murfreesboro, as I sat 
 one morning reading a newspaper in the " Aides' Room" at head-
 
 142 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 quarters, a tall, erect, sinewy-built, noble-featured man, with 
 dark flowing hair, a long, elastic stride, and a monstrous stecl- 
 hilted sword dangling at his heels, and clanking heavily on the 
 floor at his every step, stalked into the room, and, giving me a 
 casual glance, entered General Garfield's apartment In a mo- 
 ment he returned, and, striding directly up to me, said : 
 
 " Sir, are you the man who wrote ' Among the Pines ?' " 
 
 There was something in his quick, abrupt voice and decided, 
 energetic manner, that made me uncertain of his intentions : so, 
 rising from my seat, and drawing myself up to my full height, 
 I replied, in a half-defiant tone : 
 
 " I am, sir : at your service." 
 
 " I want to take you by the hand, sir. God bless you !" was 
 the hearty response. 
 
 Considerably relieved, I said, as I accepted his greeting : 
 
 " And you are !" 
 
 " Colonel Innis Innis of the Michigan Engineers." 
 
 " Oh ! You are the man, who ' don't surrender much /' " 
 
 " Not much that is, I never did." 
 
 Saying I would like to know him better, I asked him to be 
 seated. He sat down, and fought the battle over again. When 
 he had concluded, I said : 
 
 " I met an old negro at Nashville, who told me he rode up 
 from Murfreesboro and warned you of Wheeler's coming. He 
 said you made him stay over night, and treated him like a white 
 man." 
 
 " I tried to, for he saved me from a surprise. Wheeler cap- 
 tured all of my pickets before sunrise, and without the old dar- 
 key's warning, I mightn't have been half ready. There is noth- 
 ing Wheeler would like so well as to take me. We have had
 
 THE MAH WHO '' DON'T SURRENDER MUCH." 113 
 
 several fio-hts, and after each one I have sent him word how 
 
 O ' 
 
 many men it took to whip him." 
 
 In a western city, a few weeks ago, I met the colonel again. 
 Laying my hand on his shoulder, I accosted him with 
 
 " And you've not surrendered yet !" 
 
 " Not yet," he replied, turning round and taking my hand ; 
 " but I've had another brush with Wheeler. Just after Chica- 
 mauga he came upon me with nearly five thousand men. I beat 
 him off, and then sent him word I had whipped him with one- 
 half of my regiment." 
 
 The West has sent many brave men to the war, but none 
 braver than INNIS.
 
 144 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 BIBLE SMITH. 
 
 As I alighted from the cars at Murfreesboro, the inevitable 
 official again confronted me. 
 
 " Can I get a conveyance to Head-quarters ?" I asked him. 
 
 "Yes, there's an omnibus here. But the General's not in 
 town. He's at the front." 
 
 " And where can I find lodgings for a few days ?" 
 
 " Don't know. There's not a hotel or lodging-house in the 
 place." 
 
 A town of forty thousand people with not a single inn ! 
 Surely this was the miracle of the nineteenth century. 
 
 After a short search I found the omnibus a cast-off North- 
 ern coach, with a Yankee Jehu. 
 
 " My friend," I said to him, " will you take me where I can 
 sleep to-night?" 
 
 " Yes : I'll take you to jail. It's the only house here that 
 takes in strangers." 
 
 I was about asking him to drive me to Head-quarters, in the 
 hope that my letters, even in the General's absence, might 
 secure me a night's lodging, when a heavy hand was laid on my 
 shoulder, and a strangely familiar voice a face we may forget, 
 but a voice that has once given us pleasure, lingers in the 
 memory forever accosted me, as follows:
 
 BIBLE SMITH. 14:5 
 
 " I know'd it wus ye. I know'd ye the minnit I sot eyes on ye." 
 
 Turning on the speaker, I saw a spare, squarely-built, loose- 
 jointed man, above six feet high, with a strongly marked face, 
 a long, grizzly beard, and silvery black hair hanging loosely 
 over his shoulders like a woman's. He wore an officer's undress 
 coat, and the boots of the cavalry service, but the rest of his 
 costume was of the common "butternut" homespun. Taking 
 his extended hand, and trying hard to recall Ms features, I said 
 to him : 
 
 " I know your voice, but your face I don't remember." 
 
 " Doan't remember me ! me, Bible Bible Smith ! Why 
 I'd a know'd ye ef yer face hed been blacker'n yer "Whig 
 principles." 
 
 We had not met in many years, but the name brought him 
 to my remembrance. Again grasping his hand, and shaking it, 
 this time, with a riprht good will, I exclaimed : 
 
 " I'm delighted to see you, Bible ; and to see you here true 
 to the old flag." 
 
 " Ye mought hev know'd thet. I know'd ye war right, ef ye 
 war a Whig. But ye wants ter git under kiver. I knows a 
 old 'ooman yere she's secesh way up ter the yeres, an' her 
 fixins hain't nothin' loike whot ye gits in York, but I reckon 
 ef I ax her, she'll take ye in." 
 
 " Any place will do till the General returns I have letters 
 to him." 
 
 The omnibus man went in quest of my trunk, and in a short 
 time, accompanied by my new-found friend, I was on my way 
 to the house of the Secession lady. Before going thither I will 
 make the reader somewhat acquainted with my companion, 
 in the hope that what I shall say of him may lead the public 
 
 7
 
 146 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 to think better of the whole edition of Southern " Bibles," 
 who, though badly " bound," and sadly deficient in the way of 
 "lettering" and "embellishment," have about as much homely 
 truth and genuine worth as the more gilded things found in 
 higher latitudes. 
 
 Late in November, 1850, as I was journeying on horseback 
 from Tuscaloosa, Alabama, to Louisville, Kentucky, I was over- 
 taken by a storm, just at night-fall, and forced to ask shelter at 
 a small farm-house near the little town of Richmond, in Bedford 
 County, Tennessee. The house stood in a small clearing, a 
 short distance from the highway, and was one story high, of 
 hewn logs nicely chinked and whitewashed, with a project- 
 ing roof, a broad, open piazza, and an enormous brick chim- 
 ney-stack protruding at either gable. As I rode up to it, the 
 farmer came out to meet me. lie was dressed in homespun, 
 and had a wiry, athletic frame, a dark, sun-browned complexion, 
 an open, manly face, and a frank, cordial manner that won my 
 confidence in a moment. With thirteen years less of life and 
 a century less of hardship, he was the same man who met me 
 at the Murfreesboro railway station. He bade me " good even- 
 in' " as I approached him, and returning his salutation, I asked 
 him for shelter for myself and horse. 
 
 " Sartin, Stranger," he replied ; " I nuver turned away one o' 
 God's images yit, ef they wus a Yankee an' some o' them is 
 drefful pore likenesses, ye m ought bet a pile on thet." 
 
 " Why do you think I am a Yankee?" I asked, smiling. 
 
 " I sees it all over ye. But, come, alight ; ye's welcome tcr 
 all I hes, an' ef ye kin spin a yarn, or tell a lie, ony bigger'n I 
 kin, I'll 'low a Yankee ar smarter'n a Tennesseean an' I nuver 
 know'd one as war yit."
 
 BIBLE SMITH. 147 
 
 Dismounting, I requested him to give my horse some oats, 
 remarking that I made free with him, because I expected to 
 pay for what I had. 
 
 " Pay !" he exclaimed ; " Nuver ye tork uv pay, Stranger, 
 'tween two sich men as ye an' me is, or ye'll make me fight 
 another duel. It's agin my principles, but I fit one onst, an' it 
 mought be ye wouldn't loike ter hev me fit another." 
 
 " Not with me, I assure you. I'd take free quarters with 
 you for a month rather than fight a duel." 
 
 " Yer a sensible man ; fur I shud, fur shore, sarve ye jest as 
 I done Clingman thet famous North Car'lina chap. P'raps 
 ye nuver yered how I fit him ?" 
 
 " No, I never did," I replied. 
 
 " Wall, I'll tell ye on it, But yere, Jake" (to a stout, cheer- 
 ful negro, who just then appeared at the corner of the house), 
 " Yere, Jake, tuck the gen'leman's nag, rub him down, an' guv 
 him some oats, an' mind, doan't ye guv no parson's measure 
 wuth the oats." 
 
 " Nuver you far, Massa. Jake'll gub it ter 'im chock-heap- 
 in' loike you gub's eberyting, Massa," rejoined the negro, 
 bounding nimbly into the saddle, and riding off to the barn- 
 yard. 
 
 The farmer then turned and led the way into the house. At 
 the door of the sitting-room we were met by his wife a 
 comely, dark-eyed woman of abort thirty, neatly clad in a calico 
 gown, with shoes and stockings (a rarity in that region) on her 
 feet, and a spotless lace cap perching cosily on the back of her 
 head. 
 
 " Sally," said my host, as we entered the room, " yere'r a 
 stranger^ so, tuck him in ; guv hmi fritters an' apple-jack fur
 
 148 DOWN IN TENNE9SKK. 
 
 supper, fur he'm a Yankee, an' thar's no tellin' but ye mought 
 save the kentry ef ye made liim fall in love wuth ye." 
 
 The good woman laughed, gave me a cordial greeting, asked 
 me to a seat by the fire, and went about preparing supper. As 
 I seated myself with her husband, by the broad hearth-stone, T 
 glanced around the apartment. It occupied one-half of the 
 building, and had a most cosey and comfortable appearance. 
 On the floor was a tidy rag carpet, and the plastered" walls were 
 covered with a modest paper, and ornamented with a half 
 dozen neatly-framed engravings. A gilded looking-glass, fes- 
 tooned with sprigs of evergreen, hung between the front win- 
 dows, and opposite to it stood a huge piece of mahogany, half 
 a side-board, half a bureau, which in its day had graced some 
 statelier mansion. A dozen rustic arm-chairs, covered with tin- 
 tanned deerskin, a small stand in the corner, piled high with 
 such books as the Bible, The " Pilgrim's Progress," and " Dodd- 
 ridge's Expositor," and a large pine table, on which my hostess 
 was arranging the tea-things, completed the furniture of the 
 room. A little boy of five and a little girl of seven were help- 
 ing the good wife set the tea-table, and through an open door 
 at the rear, I saw an older child, with her mother's dark-brown 
 hair and her father's expressive features, busily frying the frit- 
 ters over the kitchen fire. 
 
 After asking me where I " come from," where I " mought be 
 a moseyin' ter," and other similar questions, my host said : 
 
 " So, ye nuver yered how I fit Clingman thet big Whig 
 chap over thar ter North Car'lina ?" 
 
 " No," I replied, " I never did, but I would like to, for I 
 know Clingman, and am a Whig myself." 
 
 ** Ye is ! Wall. T' 1 nuvcr a thort it ter luck at ye ; a' it do
 
 BIBLK SMITH. 149 
 
 'pear sort o' quar ter me thet ony white man kin go agin free 
 schools, free speech, free thort, and free a'r fur all o' God s 
 critters, but ye does, ef ye's a Whig, or I hain't read the dic- 
 tionary !" 
 
 " What dictionary have you. read that in?" I asked. 
 
 " Wall, ter tell ye the truth, Stranger an' thet, though it'r 
 gittin' out o' fashion, ar what we orter do / nuver read it in 
 nary one : Sally, ye sees, do all the readin' uv the fambly. 
 But, I allers reckoned them wus whig principles." 
 
 " And what are democratic principles ?" 
 
 " Jest the contrary. Thet's whot dimmocrat means. Whig 
 ar only another name fur big ; an' it means big-bugs, fur 
 all o' them goes thet way. But they karn't hev my vote, no- 
 how. I goes fur the Decleration uv Independence life, lib- 
 erty, an' the pursoot uv whot ye loikes. I'se got it hangin' 
 up thar agin the wall. The man as writ thet war some pun- 
 kins." 
 
 " Yes, he was, and it's a good thing to have in the house. 
 But, tell me about your duel with Clingman." 
 
 " Wall, ye sees, it war jest afore the last 'lection, when ye 
 put in ole Zack fur President. The Whigs they had a big 
 barbacue down ter Richmond, an' Clingman an' a hull lot uv 
 'em went inter speechifying ter kill. Wall, in the coorse uv 
 Clingman's speech he said thet Cass, our canderdate, wus a 
 nigger-trader down thar ter Newbern way, an' wus in jail fur 
 passin' counterfit money, an' ef we 'lected him, we'd hev ter 
 bail him out ter 'naugerate him. Now, I couldn't stand thet, no 
 how, so I right up in meetin', an' telled Clingman he lied loike 
 blazes. Wall, he stopped short ter onst, an' axed me fnr my 
 redress."
 
 150 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 s," said his wife, pausing in her work, and looking 
 pleasantly at me. 
 
 "Thet's so, Sally," replied the farmer. "I telled ye, Stran- 
 ger, Sally hes all the larnin' uv the fambly. She's a quality 
 'ooman she is ! Wall, I guv Clingman my name, an' wbar I 
 hung out, an', shore 'nuff, jest arter dark, a feller rid up yere 
 wuth a challunge, all writ out in Clingman's own hand an' ye 
 knows he's a right smart scholard, an' a durned clever feller ter 
 boot, ef he ar a Whig. I couldn't read the thing I hain't got 
 no furder nur prent yit so I guv it ter Sally. Sally she 
 screeched out when she seed whot it war 'bout, but I telled har 
 ter stand up, an' die loike a man, an' so she sot down, an' 
 'cepted the challunge. Now, ye knows, the challunged 'un 
 allers hes the chise o' weapons, so I said I'd hev swords, 
 mounted." 
 
 " Then you are familiar with sword practice ?" T remarked. 
 
 " Furmilye wuth it ! I nuvcr seed more'n one sword, in 
 all my borned days, an' thet war so durned rusty a ox-team 
 couldn't dror it. It hung over dad's front door when I war a 
 young 'un. Dad said he fit wuth it ter Cowpens, but I know'd 
 he didn't, 'case he couldn't ha' been more'n two y'ar old at 
 thet writin', an' he allers bed a awful way o' lyin'. 
 
 " Wall, I said swords, mounted, at sun-up the next mornin', 
 over agin my r'ar pinery. Now, I hes a drefful smart ox-brute 
 thet I'se a raised up' fur my privat' ridin' ye knows, we uses 
 them critters jest as ye does bosses. The brute he doan't loike 
 a spur, an' when ye puts one inter Mm, he'll pitch, head-fore- 
 mose, inter the fust thing he comes ter, be it man or beast. 
 Wall, in the mornin' I tuck out the cow-horn (ye'd think Ga- 
 briel war a soundin' the last trump when I blows it), cut a right
 
 BIBLE SMITH. 151 
 
 smart stick fur a sword, put it inter a yaller bag thet lucked 
 loike a scabbard, got out the ox-brute, tied a red rag ter his 
 horns, put on him my wife's best kivcrlet Sally hed it agin we 
 got morried ; it hes more colors nnr Joseph's coat, but red an' 
 yaller dominates. Wall, I put on the kiverlet fur a saddle, an' 
 moseyed off ter the dueling ground. 
 
 *' Clingman, he war thar, wuth two seconds, a doctor, an' a hull 
 'pothecary store uv cuttin' instruments, all waitin' an' ready ter 
 make mince-meat uv my carcass. Soon as he seed how I war 
 'coutered, he np an' 'jected ter fightin', but I counted out the 
 terms uv the duel swords, mounted an' I tolled him ef he 
 didn't stand, an' fight loike a man, I'd post him all over the 
 State o' North Car'lina fur a coward. Wall, finarly he 'eluded 
 ter do it. So, we tuck our stands, the seconds they guv the 
 word, Clingman he put spurs inter his hoss, an' I put spurs 
 inter mine, an', Stranger, ye'd better b'lieve when my ox mo- 
 seyed down onter his mar, wuth horn a blowin', an' kiverlet a 
 flyin', the mar she piked out quicker'n a whirlygust chasin' a 
 streak o' lightnin', an' she nuver belt up till she got clean inter 
 North Car'lina. I'se allers telled Sally sense thet thet kiverlet 
 ar the flag I means ter live under, ter sleep under, an' ter die 
 under." * 
 
 When I had somewhat recovered from the immoderate fit of 
 laughter which expressed my appreciation of the farmer's story, 
 his comely wife said to me : 
 
 " Fotch up yer cheer, Stranger. We hain't nothin' 'cept 
 common doin's, but we's 'nuff o' them." 
 
 And there was "'nun o' them." The table was loaded 
 
 * Subsequent inquiry satisfied me that Bible's account of this singu- 
 lar duel was substantially true.
 
 152 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 down with bacon, venison, wild fowl, hominy, corn-pone, frit- 
 ters, tea, cider, and apple-jack, all heaped upon it in promiscu- 
 ous confusion. I had ridden far, and eaton nothing since the 
 morning, but I might have relished the vi.in U l;i<l my appetite 
 been much daintier than it was. 
 
 A desultory conversation followed till the close of the meal. 
 When it was over, again seating myself with the farmer before 
 the blazing light-wood fire, while his wife and elder daughter 
 went about clearing away the tea-things, I said to him : 
 
 " You guessed rightly, my friend. I am a Yankee, and I have 
 the Yankee way of asking questions. Now, I want to ask you 
 how you live, what you raise, how many negroes you have all 
 about yourself, for I've already fallen in love with you and 
 your wife." 
 
 "Fall'n in love wuth me! ha! ha!" echoed the farmer. 
 "Stranger, /nuver fell in love wuth nary man 'cept Sally, but 
 I fell inter it so deep wuth she thet I'se willin' all creation shud 
 love liar jest loike I does an' they wud, ef they only know'd 
 har so wall as me." 
 
 "I have no doubt they would. Does she do all her own 
 housework ?" 
 
 "Uvery thing she an' the little gal. She woan't hev no 
 lazy nigger wimmin round. They make more wuck nur they 
 does." 
 
 "Do yer wife wuck, Stranger?" asked the lady: "They 
 say wimmin all wucks ter the North." 
 
 " Nearly all do except my wife. She don't, because I have 
 none. But I intend to have one. I shall probably wait till 
 your husband breaks his neck, and then pop the question to
 
 BIBLE SMITH. 153 
 
 
 
 " Wall, I reckon I'd Lev ye, fur I'se sort o' tuck ter ye. 
 'Pears loike ye Northern gentlemen hain't stuck up, an' doan't 
 'count tharselfs no better nur wuckin' folk, like the 'ristocracts 
 does round yere." 
 
 "The heart, not the wealth or the intellect, Madam, makes 
 the true aristocracy," I leplied, gravely. 
 
 "Thet's whot our parson sez; an' in heaven, he sez, them as 
 gits the highest hes hearts jest loike little childerin' thet loves 
 uvery thing, an' uvery body, an' hain't no larnin' at all. Ef 
 thet's so, Bible'll be one on the biggest on 'em, fur he's got 
 nigh ter no larnin' he kin only jest make out ter spell an' his 
 heart ar big 'nuff ter holt all o' creation." 
 
 " Doan't ye say thet, Sally," said the farmer, looking at his 
 wife with a tender light in his eyes, and a beautiful smile on 
 his rough features : " The LORD moughtn't be uv yer 'pinion." 
 
 " Yas, He ar, fur He knows ye jest loike I does." 
 
 The farmer made no reply, and a short silence followed. I 
 broke it by saying : 
 
 " Come, Bible, answer my questions tell me all about your- 
 self." 
 
 " Thet hain't my name, Stranger, though it'r whot I goes by. 
 Ye sees, my name ar Smith, an' dad chrisund me Jehosha- 
 phat* ter 'stinguish me frum the t'other Smiths, but, somehow, 
 it got shortened ter Bible, an' it'r been Bible unter this day. 
 Wall, I wuck'd 'long uv dad till I war twenty-one, fur the ole 
 'un he said he'd a fetched me up when I war a young 'un, an' 
 he war bound ter git his pay out o' me agin I war grow'd, 
 an' he done it. 
 
 * His name according to the army rolls, is WILLIAM J. SMITH. 
 
 7*
 
 154 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 " Wall, the day I war uv age, dad axed me out ter the barn, 
 an' totein' out a mule-brute as hed been in the fambly uver sense 
 Adam warn't no higher'n lettle Sally, he sez ter me, sez he : 
 ' Thar, Bible, thar's my last wull an' testamunt tuck it, an' 
 gwo an' seek yer fortnn'.' I hadn't nary chise, so, I tuck the 
 mule-brute an' moseyed out ter seek my fortun'. I squatted 
 down right squar ontcr this dead'nin', hired my nig Jake (I 
 owns him now), an' me, an' Jake, an' the mule-brute went ter 
 wuck loike blazes all but the mule-brute he war too tarnal 
 lazy ter wuck; he war so lazy I hed ter git my ox ter holp him 
 dror his last breath. Wall, Jake an' me added acre ter acre, 
 and mule-brute ter mule-brute, as the Scriptur sez, till finarly I 
 got ter be right wall forehanded. Then, one day, I sez ter 
 Jake: 'Jake,' sez I 'ye's got a wife, an' ye knows whot clur- 
 mestic furlicity is ter be shore ye hes ter keep it seven mile 
 away, an' it b'longs ter a durned 'ristocrat, but whot's thet 
 when I guvs ye Saturday arternoons an' Sundays, all ter yer- 
 self now, / hain't nary furlicity at all : whot shill I do.' 
 
 " * Git a wife, Massa,' sez Jake ; * git a wife, Massa. But 
 dar's mighty fine fish in de sea, Massa, so doan't ye kotch no 
 dolphins whot shows dar colors in de sun but neber comes ter 
 de sufface when it rains. Saddle de mar, Massa, an' gwo out on a 
 'splorin' expedition ; Jake'll luck arter do fixin's while you'm 
 away.' Now, thet nig ar allers right he's got a head longer'n 
 the moral law so, I saddled the mar, an' sallied out arter 
 Sally. 
 
 " I hed ter scour nigh 'bout all o' creation, an' it tuck me four 
 
 hull months ter do it, but I found bar. Soon as I sot eyes 
 
 on bar I know'd it war she, an' I telled har so, but she say : 
 
 Ye must ax Par.' (Sally hes book-breedin', ye sees, so she
 
 BTBLF SMTTTT. 155 
 
 sez par instead o' dad, which ar' the nat'ral way.) Wall, I 
 axed ' par' he's one on yer quality folk, been ter Congress, 
 an' only missed bein' Guv'ner by not gittin' the nomurnation. 
 I axed him, an' he shuck his head, but I guv him jest a week 
 ter think on it, an' moseyed out ter git ready agin the weddin'. 
 I know'd he'd come round, an' he done it. So I sez ter Sally 
 ' Sally,' sez I : ' we'll be morried ter-morrer.' 
 
 " ' Ter-morrer !' screeched Sally, holtin' up har hands, an' 
 openin' har eyes ; ' Why I hain't a ready. I hain't no clocs !' 
 
 "'does!' sez I; ' nuver mind yer cloes I doan't morry ye 
 fur them.' 
 
 " So Sally she consented, an' I piked out fur a parson. 
 Now, thar warn't none nigher'n over a branch, an' it so hap- 
 pin'd it rained loike blazes thet night, an' toted off all the 
 bridges, so when the parson an' me got down ter the run jest 
 arter noon the next day we wus ter a been morried at levin' 
 thar warn't no way o' crossin', but thar war Sally, on the t'other 
 side uv the run, in har sun-bunnet an' a big umbrell', onpa- 
 tiently waitin' fur us. Thar warn't no other how, so I sez ter 
 the parson : ' Parson,' sez I : ' say over the Prayer-Book 
 Sally's got the hull uv it by heart agin this time we'll be mor- 
 ried ter onst, right yere.' So, the parson he said over the 
 Prayer-Book, Sally she made the 'sponses all 'bout the 'beyin' 
 an' so on an' we's been man an' wife uver sense ; an' Stranger, 
 I doan't keer whar the t'other 'ooman ar', thar hain't nary one 
 livin' quite up ter Sally." 
 
 "An' does ye b'lieve thet story, Stranger?" asked Sally, who, 
 having finished clearing away the tea-things, had, with the older 
 daughter, and the younger children, taken a seat near me in the 
 chimney-corner.
 
 156 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 " I can't say that I do. Not altogether," I replied. 
 
 " I'm glad on it, fur we wus raorried in a house, loike Chris- 
 tun people we wus." 
 
 " Is Jake your only slave ?" I asked the farmer after a while. 
 
 " Yas, he'r my only 'un, but he's as good as ony two ye uver 
 know'd on. Ye sees, I raises nigh on ter no craps 'cept mule- 
 brutes an' horned critters, an' them, ye knows, browse in the 
 woods, an' doan't make much wuck." 
 
 If this chapter were not already too long I would tell the 
 reader more of this farmer's family ; how every thing about 
 the house and out-buildings was the model of neatness ; how 
 the comely housewife strove, with grace and cheerfulness, to do 
 honor to a stranger guest ; how tidily she kept her handsome 
 brood, all clad in homespun of her own weaving, and her own 
 making ; how the younger children climbed their father's knee, 
 pulled his beard, and laughed at his stories, as if they had never 
 heard them before ; how nimbly the elder daughter sprang to do 
 her mother's bidding, how she fetched the apples from the loft, 
 and the apple^'ac^ from the pantry, and, between times, helped 
 to lull the sleepy little ones to sleep, or to keep them, wakeful, 
 out of mischief; how when we parted for the night, Sally read 
 a chapter from the big Bible, and then, all kneeling down, made 
 such a prayer as the GOOD ALL FATHER loves to hear ; how 
 when I bade them "good-bye" in the morning, all had to kiss 
 me, from the mother to the youngest; and how Bible, giv- 
 ing me a parting grasp of the hand, said as I mounted to ride 
 away: 
 
 " Come out an' settle yere, Stranger ; we'll send ye ter Con- 
 gress the man as hes cheek enuff ter kiss a man's wife afore 
 his vury face, kin git ony office in this part o' the kentry !"
 
 BIBLK- SMITH. U> f 
 
 Of all this and more, I would like to tell, but have I not 
 already said enough to show that true worth and real manliness 
 exist among the " poor whites" of the South ? Though igno- 
 rant and illiterate, uncouth of speech, and ungainly of manner, 
 have not those who so well observe the obligations of husband 
 
 O 
 
 and father, mother and 'wife and daughter, learned some of the 
 higher duties of life ?
 
 158 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 CHAPTER XTII. 
 
 BIBLE'S STORV. 
 
 SEATED after dinner on the piazza of the hospitable Southern 
 lady, Bible told me his story. 
 
 He had been stripped of all his property, his wife and chil- 
 dren had been driven from their home, his house had been 
 burned to the ground, and he himself hunted through the 
 woods like a wild beast, because he had remained true to what 
 he called democratic principles " free schools, free speech, free 
 thought and free a'r fur all o' GOD'S critters." 
 
 The world went well with him till the breaking out of the 
 Rebellion. That event found him the owner of fifteen likely 
 negroes, a fine plantation of nine hundred and thirty acres, and a 
 comfortable framed dwelling and out-builclings. His elder daugh- 
 ter had married a young farmer of the district, and his younger 
 little Sally, whom I remembered as a rosy-cheeked, meek-eyed 
 wee thing of only seven years had grown up a woman. 
 
 In the spring of 1861, when there were no Union troops 
 south of the Ohio, and the secession fever was raging furiously 
 all over his county, he organized one hundred and six of his 
 neighbors into a company of Home Guards, and was elected 
 their captain. They were pledged to resist all attacks on 
 the person or property of any of their number, and met fre- 
 quently in the woods 'in the vicinity of their homes. This or- 
 ganization secured Bible safety and free expression of opinion
 
 BIBLE'S STORY. 159 
 
 till long after Tennessee went out of the Union. In fact, he 
 felt so secure that, in 1862 a year after the State seceded 
 nnder the protection of his band of Home Guards, he inaugu- 
 rated and carried through a celebration of the fourth of July at 
 Richmond, Tennessee, under the very guns of a rebel regiment 
 then forming in the town. 
 
 An act of so much temerity naturally attracted the attention 
 of the Confederate authorities, and not long afterwards he was 
 roused from his bed one morning before day-break, by three 
 hundred armed men, who told him that he was a pris- 
 oner, and that all his property was confiscated to the Govern- 
 ment. They at once enforced the " confiscation act ;" " and 
 this," he said, taking from his wallet a piece of soiled paper, 
 " ar' whot I hed ter 'tribute ter the dingnation consarn. It'r 
 Sally's own handwrite, an' I knows ye loikes har, so, ye kin hev 
 it, fur it'll nuver be uv no manner uv account ter me." 
 
 The schedule is now before me, and I copy it verbatim : " 14 
 men and wimmin" (Jake eluded the soldiers and escaped to the 
 woods), "1600 barrils corn, 130 sheeps, 700 bnshls wheat, 440 
 barley, 100 rye, 27 mules, 5 cow-brutes, 105 head hogs, 17 
 horses and mars, and all they cud tote beside." 
 
 "Wall, they tied me, hand an' fut," he continued; "an' 
 toted me off ter the Military Commission sittin' ter Chattanooga. 
 I know'd whot thet meant a short prayer, a long rope, an' a 
 break-down danced on the top o' nothin'. Better men nur me 
 hed gone thet way ter the Kingdom sevin on 'em wuthin a 
 month but I detarmined I wouldn't go ef I could holp it ; not 
 thet I 'jected ter the journey, only ter goin' afore uv Sally. 
 Ye sees, I hedn't been nigh so good a man "as I'd orter be, an' I 
 reckoned Sally who, ye knows, ar the best 'ooman thet uver
 
 1GO DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 lived I reckoned she, ef she got thar a leetle afore o' me, could 
 sort o' put in a good word wuth the LORD, an' git Him ter shot 
 His eyes ter a heap o' my doin's ; an' sides, I should, I know'd, 
 feel a mighty strange loike up thar without har. Wall, I de- 
 tarmined not ter go, so thet night, as we war camped out on the 
 ground, I slid the coil, stole a nag, an' moseyed off. JIow- 
 sumuver, I hedn't got morc'n a hun'red rods, 'fore the durner] 
 Secesh yered me, an' the bullets fell round me thickcr'n tar in 
 January. They hit the hoss, winged me a trifle, an' in less nur 
 ten minnits, hed me* tighter' n uver. They swore a streak uv 
 blue brimstun', an' said they'd string me up ter onst, but I telled 
 'em they wouldn't, 'case I know'd I war a gwine ter live ter 
 holp do thet ar' same turn fur Jeff. Davis. Wall, I s'pose my 
 impudence hed suthin' ter do wuth it, fur they didn't hang me 
 
 ye monght know thet, Mr. , fur, ye sees, I hes a 
 
 good neck fnr stretchin' yit." 
 
 " Wall we got ter Chattanooga jest arter noon. The Com- 
 mission they hed too many on hand thet day ter 'tend ter my 
 case, an' the jail wus chock-heapin', so they put me inter a tent 
 under guard uv a hull Georgy regiment. Things luck'd 
 'mazin' squally, an' much as I determined ter be a man, my 
 heart went clean down inter my boots whenuver I thort uv 
 Sally. I nuver felt so, afore or sence, fur then I hedn't got 
 used ter luckin' at the gallus uvery day. 
 
 " Wall, /didn't know whot ter do, but thinkin' the Lord did, 
 I kneeled down an' prayed right smart. I telled Him I hedn't 
 no face ter meet Him afore I'd a done suthin' fur the kentry, an' 
 thet Sally's heart would be clean broke ef I went afore har, 
 but, howsumuver, I said, He know'd best, an' ef it war His will, 
 I hed jest nothin' ter say agin it. Thet's all I said, but I said
 
 BIBLE'S STORY. 1G1 
 
 it over an' over, a heap o' times, an it war right dark when I 
 got off uv my knees. The Lord yered me, thet's sartin, 'case 
 I hedn't more'n got up fore a dirty grey-back, drunker'n a 
 member uv Congress, staggered inter the tent. I reckon he 
 thort he war ter home, fur he drapped down outer the ground 
 an' went ter sleep, wuthout so much as axin' ef I tvus willin'. 
 
 " Then it come inter my head, all ter onst, whot ter do. Ye 
 sees, the critters hed tied me hand an' fut, an' teddered me 
 wuth a coil ter one o' the tent-stakes, so I couldn't move only 
 jest so fur ; but the Lord He made the drunken feller lop down 
 jest inside uv reachin'. Wall, when I war shore he war dead 
 asleep, I rolled over thar, drawed out the Bowie-knife in his 
 belt wuth my teeth, an' sawed off my wristlets in no time. Ye 
 kin reckon it didn't take long ter undo the 'tother coils, an' 
 ter 'propriate his weapons, tie 'im hand an' fut loike I war, 
 strip off his coat, put mine outer Mm, swap hats, an' pull the 
 one I guv him down onter his eyes loike as ef he iiuver wanted 
 ter see the sun agin. When I'd a done thet, I stopped ter 
 breathe, an' luckin' up I seed a light a comin'. I 'spicioned 
 it w.ar ter 'xamine arter me, so I slunk down inter a cor- 
 ner o' the tent, jest aside the door. They wus a leftenant, an' 
 three privits, raakin' the rounds, an' the light showed me nigh 
 onter a army uv sentinels all about thar. Thet vvarn't no way 
 encouragin', but sez I ter myself: 'Bible,' sez I, 'be cool an' 
 outdacious, an' ye'll git out o' this, yit;' so, when the lefteu- 
 ant luck'd in, an' sayin' : 'All right,' put out agin, I riz up, 
 an' jined the fellers as wus a follerin' on him. I kept in the shad- 
 der, an' they, s'posin' 1 war one on 'em, tuck no kind uv notice 
 uv me. We'd luck'd arter three or four pore prisoners loike I 
 war, when I thort I'd better be a mosey iu', so I drapped ahiud
 
 162 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 an' arter a while dodged out beyont the second line o' pickets. 
 I'd got nigh onter a patch uv woods half a rnile off, when all 
 ter onst a feller sprung up frum a clump uv bushes, yelled, 
 'Halt,' an' pinted his musket stret at me. I monght hev 
 eended 'ira, but I reckoned others wus nigh, an' sides, I nuver 
 takes humin life ef I kin holp it ; so I sez ter 'im : ' Why, Lord 
 bless me, cumrad', T didn't seed ye.' ' I s'pose ye didn't. 
 Whot is ye doin' yere?' sez he. 'Only pursuin' a jug o' blue 
 ruin I'se out thar hid under a log,' sez I. 'Ye knows it'r agin 
 rule ter tote it inside, but a felier must licker.' ' Wall, liclcer 
 up ter-morrer,' sez he. ' Wc's got 'ticklar orders ter let no 'un 
 out ter-night.' ' Blast the orders,' sez I. 'Ye'd loike a swig 
 yerself.' ' Wall, I would,' sez he. ' Wull ye go snacks ?' 
 ' Yas,' sez I ; ' an' guv ye chock-heapin' measure, fur I must hev 
 some o' thet afore raornin'.' 
 
 " Thet brung him, an' I piked off for the ruin. (It warn't 
 thar, ye knows I nuver totch the dingnation stuff.) Ye'd bet- 
 ter b'lieve the grass didn't grow under my feet when onst I got 
 inter the woods. I plumbed my coorse by the stars, an' made 
 ten right smart miles in no time. Then it come inter my head 
 thet I'd a forgot all about the Lord, so I kneeled down right 
 thar, an' thanked Him. I telled Him I seed His hand jest so 
 plain as ef it war day-time, an' thet, as shore as my name war 
 Bible, I'd fuller His lead in futur' an' I'se tried ter, uver 
 sense. 
 
 "I'd got ter be right wall tuckered out by thet time the 
 'citement, ye see, hed helt me up, but I'd no sooner gone ter 
 prayin' 'fore my knees guv out all ter onst so, I put fur a 
 piece uv timber, lay down under a tree, an' went ter sleep. 1 
 must hev slept mighty sound, fur, long 'bout moruin 1 , some'un
 
 BIBLE'S STOUT. 1G3 
 
 bed ter shuck me awful hard, an' turn me clar over, 'fore it woked 
 me. I got up. 'Twar nigh so light as day, though 'twarn't 
 sun-up. Yit I luck'd all round, an' didn't see a soul ! Now, 
 whot d'ye s'pose it war thet woked me ?" 
 
 "Your own imagination, I reckon. You were dreaming, and 
 in your dream you thought some one shook you," I replied. 
 
 "No; 'twarn't thet. I nuver dreams. It war the LORD! 
 An' He done it 'case I'd prayed ter 'im. I'se nuver gone tcr 
 sleep, or woke up, sense, wuthout prayin' ter HIM, an' though 
 I'se been in a heap uv wuss fixes nur thet, He's got me out uv 
 all on 'em, jest 'c;iso I does pray ter Him." 
 
 I did not dispute him. Who that reads the New Testament 
 as Bible reads it like a little child can dispute him. In 
 a moment he went on with his story. 
 
 " Wall, I luck'd all round, an' seed nuthin', but I yered not a 
 mile off the hounds a bayin' away loike a young thundergust. 
 They wus arter me, an' thet wus the why the GOOD LORD 
 woked me. I luck'd at the 'volver I'd stole from the sodger, 
 seed it war all right, an' then dumb a tree. 'Bout so quick as 
 it takes ter tell it, the hounds two 'mazin' fine critters, wuth a 
 hun'red an' fifty apiece wus on me. I run my eye 'long the 
 pistol-barr'l, an' let drive. It tuck jest two shots ter kill 'em. 
 I know'd the Secesh wus a follerin' the dogs, so, ye'd better 
 b'lieve I made purty tall racin' time till I got ter the f eend uv 
 the timber. 
 
 " Jest at night I run agin some darkies, who guv me suthin 
 ter eat, an' nothin' more happin'd 'fore the next night, when I 
 come in sight o' home. I got ter' the edge uv the woods, on the 
 hill jest ahind uv my barn, 'bout a hour by sun ; but I darn't 
 go down, fur, ye knows, the house stood in a clarin', an' some
 
 164: IXHVN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 uv the varnmnts mought be a watchin' fnr me. I lay thar till 
 it war thick dark, an' then I crept ter the r'ar door. I listened ; 
 an' whot d'ye 'spose I yered ? Sally a prayin' an' pray in' fur 
 me, so 'arnest an' so tender loike, thet I sot down on the door- 
 step, an' cried loike a child I did." 
 
 Here the rough, strong man bent down his head and wept 
 again. The moisture filled my own eyes as he continued : 
 
 " She telled the Lord how much I war ter har ; how she'd a 
 loved me uver sense she'd a fust seed me ; how 'fore har father, 
 or mother, or even the chillen, she loved me ; how she'd tried 
 ter make me love Him ; how she know'd thct, way down in 
 my heart, I did love Him, though I didn't say so, 'case men 
 doan't speak out 'bout sech things loike wimmin does. An' she 
 telled Him how she hed tried ter do His will ; tried ter be one 
 on His raal chillen ; an' she telled Him He hed promised not 
 ter lay onter His chillen no more'n they could b'ar, an' she 
 couldn't b'ar ter hev me hung up as ef I war a traitor : thet 
 she could part wuth me if it war best ; thet she could see me 
 die, an' not weep a tear, ef I could only die loike a man, wuth 
 a musket in my hand, a doin' suthin' for my kentry. Then she 
 prayed Him ter send me back ter har fur jest one day, so she 
 mought ax me once more ter love Him an' she know'd I 
 would love Him ef she axed me agin an' she said ef He'd 
 only do thet, she'd much as she loved me she'd send me 
 away, an' guv me all up ter Him an' the kentry fur uver ! 
 
 " I couldn't stand no more, so, I opened the door, drapped 
 onter my knees, tuck har inter my arms, lay my head on har 
 shoulder, an' sobbed out : ' The Lord hes yered ye, Sally ! I 
 wull love Him ! I wull be worthy of sech love as ye's guv'n me, 
 Sally !' "
 
 BIBLE'S STORY. 165 
 
 He paused for a moment, and covered his face with hia 
 hands. When he spoke again there was a softness and tender- 
 ness in his tone that I never heard in the voice of but one other 
 man. 
 
 " Sense thet minnit this yerth lies been another yerth ter me ; 
 an' though I'se lost uverythin', though I lies no home, though 
 night arter night I sleeps out in the cold an' the wet, a scoutin', 
 though my wife an' chillen is scattered, though nigh nvery day 
 I'se in danger uv the gallus, though I'se been roped ter a tree 
 ter die loike a dog, though a thousand bullets hes yelled death 
 in my yeres, though I'se seed my only boy shot down afore my 
 vury eyes, an' I not able ter speak ter him, ter guv him a mossel 
 uv comfort, or ter yere his last word, I'se bed suthin allers yere 
 (laying his hand on his heart) thet hes helt me up, an' made 
 me luck death in the face as ef I loved it. An ef ye hain't got 
 
 thet, Mr. , no matter whot else ye's got, no matter whot 
 
 money, or larm'n', or friends, ye's pore porer nur I ar!" 
 
 I made no reply, and after a short silence he resumed his 
 story. 
 
 " Jake thet war my boy ye remember him, ye lied him on 
 yer knee he war eighteen an' a man grow'd then : wall, Jake 
 an' me made up our minds ter pike fur the Union lines ter onst. 
 Sally war all night a cookin' fur us, an' we a gittin' the arms 
 an' fixin's a ready we hed lots o' them b'longin' ter the Guards, 
 hid away in a panel uv the wall an' the next day, meanin' ter 
 start jest arter sun-set, we laid down fur some sleepin'. Nigh 
 onter dark, Black Jake, who war a watchin', come rushin' inter 
 the house, sayin' the Secesh wus a comin. Thar wus only 
 twenty on 'em, he said, an' one wus drunk an' didn't count fur 
 nuthin', so, we detarmined ter meet 'em. We tuck our stands
 
 166 DOWN IN TKNNKSSEE. 
 
 nigh the door, each on us men Black Jake, the boy, an' me 
 wuth a Derringer in his pocket, two 'volvers in his belt, an' a 
 Bowie-knife in the breast uv his waiscoat, an' the wimmin wuth 
 a Volver in each hand, an' waited fur 'era. Half a dozen on 
 'em went round ter the r'ar, an' the rest come at the front door, 
 yellin' out : 
 
 " ' We doan't want ter 'sturb ye, Miss Smith (they's chiv- 
 urly, ye knows), but we reckons yer husban' ar yere, an' we 
 must sarch the house. We hes orders ter take him.' 
 
 "I opened the door stret off, an' steppin' down ontcr the 
 piazzer Black Jake an' the boy ter my back, an' the wimmin' 
 ter the winder I sez ter 'em : 
 
 " ' Wall, I'se yere. Take me ef ye kin !' 
 
 " They wus fourteen on 'em thar, uvery man wuth a musket, 
 but theydarn't lift a leg! They wns cowards. It'r nuthin' 
 
 but a good cause, Mr. -, thet guvs a man courage makes 
 
 him luck death in the face as ef he loved it. 
 
 " Wall, they begun ter parley. ' We doan't want, ter shed no 
 blood,' said the leftenant : ' but we's orders ter take ye, Mister 
 Smith, an' ye'd better go wuth us, peaceable loike.' 
 
 " ' I shan't go wuth ye peaceable loike, nur no other how,' 
 sez I ; 'fur ye's a pack o' howlin' thieves an' traitors as no de- 
 cent man 'ud be seed in company uv. Ye disgraces the green 
 yerth ye walks on, an' ef yc doan't git off uv my sheer uv it, in 
 less nur no time, I'll send ye though it'r agin my principles 
 ter take humin life whar ye'll git yer desarts, sartin.' 
 
 " Then the leftenant he begun ter parley agin, but I pinted 
 my 'volver at him, an' tolled him he'd better be a moseyin' sud- 
 den. Sayin' he'd 'port ter his cunnel, he done it. 
 
 " We know'd a hun'red on 'em 'ud be thar in no time, so,
 
 BIBLE'S STORY. 1<37 
 
 soon as they wus out o' sight, the boy an' mo, leavin' Black 
 Jake ter luck arter the wimrain, struck a stret line fur the timber. 
 We hedn't got more'n four rnile ter the top uv the tall sum- 
 mit ter the r'ar uv Richmond afore, luckin' back, we seed my 
 house an' barns all a blazin' ! The Heaven-defyin' villuns hed 
 come back shot Jake down in cold blood, druv my wife an* 
 darter out o' doors, an' burnt all I hed ter the ground ! We 
 seed the fire, but not knowin' whot else hed happin'd, an' not 
 bein' able ter do nothin', we piked on inter the woods. 
 
 " We traviled all thet night through the timber, an' jest at 
 sun-down uv the next day, come ter a clarin'. We wus mighty 
 tired, but 'twouldn't do ter sleep thar, fur the trees wus nigh a 
 rod asunder; so we luck'd round, an' on t'other side uv the 
 road, not half a mile off, seed 'bout a acre uv laurel bush 
 ye knows whot them is, some on 'em so thick a dog karn't git 
 through 'em. Jake war tireder nur I war, an' he said ter me, 
 ' Dad,' sez he : ' let us git under kiver ter oust. I feels loike 
 I couldn't stand up no longer.' It wus fool-hardy loike, fur the 
 sun warn't clar down, but I couldn't b'ar ter see the boy so, 
 an', agin my judgment, we went down the road ter the laurels. 
 We lay thar till mornin', an' slep' so sound thet I reckon ef 
 forty yerthquakes hed shuck the yerth, they wouldn't hev 
 woked us. Soon as sun-up, Jake riz, an' went ter the edge uv 
 the thicket ter rekonnoitter. He hedn't stood thar five min- 
 nits right in plain sight, an' not more'n two hun'red rods frum 
 me afore I yered a shot, an' seed the pore boy throw up his 
 arms, an' fall ter the ground. In less nur no time fifty Secesh 
 wus on him. I war springin' up ter go ter him, when suthin' 
 tuck me by the shoulder, helt me back, an' said ter me : * Ye 
 karn't do nothin' fur him. Leave 'im ter the Lord. Save ver-
 
 168 DOWN IN TKNNKSSKE. 
 
 self fur the kentry.' It went agin natur', but it 'peared the 
 LORD'S voice, so I crouched down agin 'rnong the bushes. I 
 nuver know'd whot it war thet saved me till nigh a y'ar arter- 
 wuds. Then I tuck thet leftenant pris'ner, I could hev shot 
 him, but I guv him his life tcr repent in, an' he done it: he's 
 a decent man now, b'longin' ter Gunnel Johnson's rigiment. 
 Wall, I tuck him, an' he said ter me : " I wus aside uv thet pore 
 boy when he war dyin'. He turned his eyes onter me jest as 
 he war goin', an' he said: 'Ye karn't kotch him. He's out 
 o' the bush ! Ha ! ha !' He said thet, and died. Ter save me, 
 died wuth a lie on his lips ! Does ye b'lieve the LORD laid 
 thet agin him, Mr. ?" 
 
 " No, no ! I am sure not. It was a noble action." 
 
 "It 'pears so ter me, but it war loike the boy. He war 
 allers furgettin' himself, an' thinkin' uv other folk. He war all 
 all the pride uv my life, him an' Sally, but it pleased the LORD 
 ter tuck him afore me but only fur a time only fur a time 
 'fore long I shill hev him agin agin np thar up thar !" 
 
 His emotion choked his utterance for a while. When he 
 resumed, he said : 
 
 " At the eend uv a fortni't, trav'lin' by night an' sleepin' by 
 day, an' livin' on the darkies when my fixin's guv out, I got 
 inter the Union lines 'bove Nashville." 
 
 " And what became of your wife and daughter ?" I asked. 
 
 "Lettle Sally went ter har sister. My wife walked eighty 
 mile ter har father's. He's one on yer quality folk, an' a 
 durned old Secesh, but he's got humin natur' in him, an' Sally's 
 safe thar. I'se seed har twice ter his house. The old 'un 
 he's know'd on't, but he hain't nuver said a word."
 
 BIBLE'S SCOUTING ADVENTURES. 169 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 BIBLE'S SCOUTING ADVENTURES. 
 
 BIBLE'S intimate knowledge of the country, and acquaintance 
 with the loyal men of the district, enabled him to perform 
 more actual service to the Union cause than a regiment of men 
 in the ranks. Hiding in the woods, or secreting himself in the 
 houses of his friends by day, he would sally forth by night, and, 
 penetrating far into the rebel lines, frequently gather informa- 
 tion of great importance to our army. Often days without 
 food, sleeping out in the cold and the rain, hunted down with 
 blood-hounds, betrayed by pretended friends, waylaid by whole 
 regiments, the mark for a thousand rifles, and with the gallows 
 ever before him, he went on in his perilous work with a single- 
 hearted devotion to his country, and an earnest, child-like 
 reliance on God, that would do honor to the best names in 
 history. 
 
 His scouting adventures would fill a volume, and read more 
 like a romance of the middle ages than a matter-of-fact history 
 of the present time. On one occasion, when about five miles 
 outside of our lines, he came, late at night, upon a party of 
 rebel officers, making merry at the house of a wealthy seces- 
 sionist. Riding coolly up to the mounted orderly on guard 
 before the door-way, he pinioned his arms, thrust a handker- 
 chief into his mouth, and led him quietly out of hearing. 
 Then bidding him dismount, and tying him to a tree, he re-
 
 A 70 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 moved the impromptu gag, and leveling a revolver at his head, 
 said to him : 
 
 " Now, tell me, ye rebel villun, whot whiskey-kags wus ye a 
 watchin' thar ? Speak truth, or I'll guv ye free passage ter a 
 hot kentry." 
 
 " Nine ossifers," said the trembling rebel ; " a cunnel, two 
 majors, a sargeon, two cap'ns, an' the rest leftenants." 
 
 " Whar's thar weapons ?" 
 
 " Thar swords is in the hall-way. None on 'em hain't pistols 
 'cept the sargeon he mought hev a 'volver." 
 
 " Whot nigs is they round ?" 
 
 " Nary one, I reckon, more'n a old man thar (pointing to 
 the kitchen-building) an' the gals in the house." 
 
 " Wall, I'll let ye go fur this, ef ye's tolled the truth. Ef ye 
 hain't, ye'd better be a say in' yer prayers ter onst, fur the Lord 
 won't yere ye on the t'other side uv Jurdan." 
 
 Fastening his horse in " the timber," and creeping up 
 to the house, he then reconnoitered the kitchen premises. 
 The old man a stout, stalwart negro of about fifty sat dozing 
 in the corner, and his wife, a young mulatto woman, was cook- 
 ing wild fowl over the fire. Opening the door, and placing his 
 finger on his lips to enjoin silence, Bible beckoned to the 
 woman. She came to him, and, looking her full in the eye for 
 a moment, he said to her : " I kin trust ye. Wud ye an' yer 
 old 'un loike ter git out o' the claws uv these durned secesh ?" 
 
 " Yas, yas, Massa," she replied, " we wud. We's Union ! 
 We'd loike ter git 'way, Massa!" 
 
 Then awakening her husband, Bible said to him : " Uncle, 
 wud ye risk yer life fur yer freedom ?" 
 
 " Ef dar's a chance, Massa, a right smart chance. Dis
 
 BIBLK'S SCOUTING ADVENTURES. 171 
 
 dark'y tinks a heap ob his life, he does, Massa. It 'm 'bout 
 all hem got." 
 
 " Yas, yas, I know ; but ye shill hev freedom. I'll see ye ter 
 the Free States, ef ye'll holp tuck them secesh ossifers." 
 
 " Holp tuck dem, Massa ! Why, dar's a dozen on 'em ; 
 dey'd chaw ye up in no time," exclaimed the astonished African.* 
 
 " No, thar hain't a dozen on 'em ; thar's only nine ; but ye' a 
 a coward," replied the scout. 
 
 "No, I hain't no coward, Massa; but I loikes a chance, 
 Massa, a right smart chance." 
 
 Bible soon convinced the negro that he would have a 
 " right smart chance," and he consented to make the hazardous 
 strike for his freedom. Entering the house, he returned in a 
 few moments to the scout, confirming the sentinel's report : the 
 weapons were reposing quietly in the hall, near the doorway, 
 and the officers, very much the worse for liquor, were carousing 
 with his master in the dining-room. 
 
 Selecting three of the best horses from the stables, Bible di- 
 rected the yellow woman to lead them into the road, and to 
 bring his own from where it was fastened in the woods. Then, 
 with his sooty ally, the scout entered the mansion. Removing 
 the arms from the hall, he walked boldly into the dining-room. 
 " Gentlemen," he said, pointing his pistols one in each hand 
 at the rebel officers, " ye is my pris'ners. Surrender yer shoot- ( 
 in' irons, or ye's dade men." 
 
 " Who are you ?" exclaimed one of them, as they all sprang 
 to their feet. 
 
 " Gunnel Smith, uv the Fust Tennessee Nigger Regiment 
 one old black man an' a yaller 'ooman," coolly replied the 
 scout.
 
 172 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 " Go to ," shouted the surgeon, quickly drawing his re- 
 volver, and discharging it directly at Bible's face. The ball 
 grazed his head, cut off a lock of hair just above his ear, 
 and lodged in the wall at his back. The report was still sound- 
 ing through the apartment, when the surgeon uttered a wild 
 cry, sprang a few feet into the air, and fell lifeless to the floor ! 
 The negro had shot him. 
 
 " Come, gentlemen, none o' thet," said Bible, as coolly as if 
 nothing had happened, " guv me the shootin' iron, an' surren- 
 der, or we'll sot the rest on ye ter his wuck rakin' coals fur 
 the devil's funnace, in less nur a minnit." 
 
 Without more hesitation the rebel colonel handed the scout 
 the fallen man's pistol, and then all, followed by the scout 
 and the negro, marched quietly out of the front door. The 
 mulatto woman, holding the horses, was standing in the high- 
 way. 
 
 " Hitch the nags, my purty gal," said the scout, " an' git a 
 coil. An' ye, gentlemen, sot down, an' say nothin' 'cept it 
 mought be yer prayers; but them, I reckon, ye hain't lamed 
 yit." 
 
 The negress soon returned with the rope, and while Bible 
 and her husband covered them with their revolvers, she tied the 
 arms of the prostrate chivalry. When this was done, the scout 
 affixed a long rope to the waist of the officer on either flank of 
 the column, and, taking one in his own hand, and giving the 
 other to the negro, cried out : 
 
 " Sogers uv the Fust Tennessee ! Mount !" 
 
 The regiment bounded into the saddle, and in that plight 
 the planter and the eight captive officers marching on before, 
 the self-appointed " cunnel" and x his chief officer bringing up the
 
 BIBLE'S SCOUTING ADVENTUEBS. 173 
 
 rear, and the rest of his command the yellow woman a-strad- 
 dle of a horse between them, they entered the Union lines. 
 
 On another occasion, hunted down by several companies of 
 rebel cavalry, Bible took refuge in a grove of laurel bushes. 
 Among the bushes was a hollow tree in which he had once or 
 twice slept on previous expeditions. It had been overthrown 
 by a tornado, and the soil still clung, in huge bowlders, to its 
 upturned roots. Creeping into this tree, he closed the small 
 opening with earth, and, boring a hole through the trunk with 
 his bowie-knife to admit air, and give him a look-out on his 
 pursuers, he lay there without food for three days and nights. 
 The rebels saw him enter the grove, and at once surrounded it, 
 so that escape was impossible. A party then beat the bushes, 
 and after examining every square yard of the ground, came and 
 sat upon the hollow tree. Listening, he heard them recount 
 some of his exploits, and assert very positively, that he had sold 
 himself to that notorious dealer in human chattels the devil 
 who, they thought, had given him power to make himself in- 
 visible at will. " An' bein' thet's so, cumrades," very logically 
 remarked one of the number, " doan't it nat'rally follcr thet the 
 devil ar' on the Union side, an' moughtent we 'bout so wall guv 
 it up fur a dade beat 'ter onst !" 
 
 When the rebel army retreated from Murfreesboro, its ad- 
 vance column came suddenly upon the scout as he was eating 
 his breakfast in an " oak opening" near the highway. There 
 was no chance of escape or concealment, for the " opening" 
 was covered with immense trees standing fifteen and twenty 
 feet apart, with only a short grass growing between them. 
 Bible was disguised in an immense mass of red hair and 
 beard, and wore a tattered suit of the coarse homespun of the
 
 174 DOWN IN TKNNE'.SEE. 
 
 district. Knowing he would certainly be discovered, he assumed 
 a vacant, rustic look, and, rising from the ground, gazed stupidly 
 at the soldiery. 
 
 " I say, green one, what are you doing thar ?" shouted the 
 officer at the head of the column. 
 
 " I'se loss my cow-brutes, Gunnel," replied the scout ; " two 
 right loikely heffers; 'un on 'em speckle all over, 'cept the tail, 
 an' thet white'n yer face. Ye hain't seed 'em no whar 'long 
 the road, nohow, hes ye ?" 
 
 " No, I hain't seed 'em, no whar, nohow," rejoined the officer. 
 " Corne, step into the ranks; we need just such fellows as you 
 are. Why the devil haven't they conscripted you before. Step 
 into the ranks, I say," he repeated, as Bible, not seeming to 
 comprehend his meaning, remained standing in his previous po- 
 sition. The second command having no more effect on him 
 than the first, the officer directed a couple of soldiers to take 
 Bible between them, and to fall in at the rear of the column. 
 It was not till he was fairly in the road that the scout seemed 
 to awaken to the reality of his condition. 
 
 " Why, why, ye hain't a gwine to tuck me long o' ye !" he 
 exclaimed, frantically appealing to the " cunnel." " Ye hain't a 
 gwine ter tuck me long o' ye ! Ye karn't mean thet !" 
 
 "We do mean that, and you just keep quiet, or, like St. 
 Paul, you'll kick against the pricks," said the officer, alluding 
 perhaps to the bayonets which the two soldiers had unslung 
 and were holding ready to apply to Bible's flanks. 
 
 " Why, ye karn't mean thet ! ye karn't mean thet, Cnnnel !" 
 again piteously cried the scout. " Wh wh whot'll become 
 on the old 'ooman whot'll become on the cow-brutes ?" 
 
 " D d the old woman and the cow-brutes," shouted the
 
 BIBLE'S SCOUTING ADVENTURES. 175 
 
 officer, riding forward and leaving the new recruit to his fate. 
 And thus Bible marched to the Tullahoma, and thus he en- . 
 listed in the second regiment of Alabama Infantry. 
 
 He remained a fortnight at Tullahoma, and while there ob- 
 tained a correct idea of the number and disposition of the ene- 
 mies' forces, and brought away with him, in his head, an accu- 
 rate map of the rebel fortifications. Desertions being frequent, 
 the picket lines had been doubled, and when he was ready to 
 leave, it had become next to impossible to penetrate them. But 
 he was equal to the emergency, and hit upon a bold expedient 
 which proved successful. 
 
 Restrictions had been laid by the commanding general on the 
 importation of whiskey, and the use of that article, which is a 
 sort of necessity to the Southern "native," had been prohibited 
 within the lines of the army except on the eve of battle. Then 
 the cold-water generals, themselves, dealt it out mixed with 
 gunpowder to every man in the ranks. The regulations con- 
 cerning it were rigidly enforced in all the divisions except Har- 
 dee's. That general to whose corps Bible belonged who 
 has, notoriously, a weakness for " spirits" and negro women, 
 winked at the indulgence of his men in those luxuries, when it 
 did not interfere with their strict observance of " Hardee's Tac- 
 tics." 
 
 Knowing his proclivities, Bible, one evening just after sunset, 
 took a tin "jug" under his arm, and sauntered past the general's 
 tent. 
 
 " I say," shouted Hardee, catching sight of the long form of 
 the scout, " where are you going with that big canteen ?" 
 
 "Ter git some bust-head, giniral. Ye knows we karn't live 
 wuthout thet," replied Bible, with affected simplicity.
 
 176 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 "Perhaps you karn't: don't you know it's against regula- 
 tions. I'll string you up, and give you fifty." 
 
 " Oh, no ! ye woan't do thet, I knows, giniral, fur ye's a feller 
 feelin' for we pore sogers," said Bible. " We karn't live wuth- 
 out a leetle ruin ; wuthout a leetle, nohow, giniral !" 
 
 " Where do you expect to get it ?" asked the general. 
 
 "Ter Squire Pursley's," said the scout, naming a planter 
 living a few miles outside of the lines. " He's got some on the 
 tallest old lye ye uver seed. I knows him. An' he's the big- 
 gest brandy, too, an' the purtiest nigger gal (rolling his tongue 
 in his mouth and smacking his lips,) thar is anywhar round. 
 She's whiter'n ye is, giniral, an' the snuggest piece uv house fur- 
 nitur' as uver wus grow'd." 
 
 "And how do you expect to pass the pickets?" asked the 
 standard authority on " Tactics." 
 
 " I reckon' this wull brung 'em," answered Bible, tapping his 
 canteen significantly. 
 
 " Well, it won't," replied the general, laughing ; " but I'll 
 give you something that will. And here, take this canteen and 
 get me some of that 'big brandy,' and tell the squire I'll be 
 over there one of these days." 
 
 The general gave Bible a pass, another canteen, and five dol- 
 lars of Confederate scrip, to effectually " raise the spirits ;" and 
 then the scout, saying, "Ye kin reckon OH gittin' sich brandy, 
 giniral, as wull sot ye up so high ye'll nuver come down agin,' 
 walked leisurely out of the rebel lines. 
 
 Once, while scouting near McMinnville, Bible was captured 
 by a small party of Forrest's cavalry. One of the Confederates 
 knew him, and he was told he must die. Throwing a rope 
 over the limb of a tree, they adjusted it about his neck, and tho
 
 BIBLE'S SCOUTING ADVENTURES. 177 
 
 rebel officer, taking out his watch, said to him : " You can havo 
 five minutes to say your prayers." 
 
 " I thanks ye, Cap'n," said Bible ; " fur thet shows ye's got 
 a spark uv humin feelin' in ye ; an' ef ye'll jest pile a lettle light 
 'ood on ter thet spark, it inought be it 'ud blaze up, an' make 
 ye a better man nur ye is, or kin be, whiles ye's a fightin' agin' 
 yer kentry. As ter prayin', Cap'n, I doan't need no time fur 
 thet ; fur I'se allers a prayin', not wuth words but silent, deep, 
 down yere" placing his hand on bis heart " Avhar I'se allers 
 a sayin' ' OUR FATHER !' Our FATHER, Capt'n, your^n as wull as 
 mine ! An' doan't ye 'spose He's luckin down on ye now, sorry, 
 grieved ter His vury heart thet ye, His chile, thet His own SON 
 died a wus death nur this fur, should be a doin' whot ye is 
 not a hangin' uv me ; I hain't no complaint ter make o' thet, 
 fur it'r His wull, or ye wouldn't be a doin' on it but sorry thet 
 ye's lifted yer hand agin' yer kentry, agin truth, an' right an' 
 the vury liberty ye talks so much about. Prayin' ! I'se allers 
 a prayin', Cap'n, allers been a prayin' uver sense Sally said tei 
 me : ' Pray, Bible, fur it'r the only way ye kin come nigh ter 
 Him : it'r the only way ye kin know, fur shore, thet ye's His 
 raal chile.' An' I does know I'se His chile, 'case I loves ter 
 pray, an' I'll pray fur ye, Cap'n ye needs it more nur me. It 
 woan't do ye no hurt, an' it mought do ye some good, fur the 
 LORD promises ter yere His chillen, an' He hes yered me, over 
 an' over agin." 
 
 The five minutes had elapsed, but the Confederate officer still 
 stood with his watch in his hand. At last, turning suddenly 
 away, he said to his men : 
 
 " Take off the rope ! Take him to the general. Re may do 
 what he likes with him. I'll be d d if Pll hang him." 
 8*
 
 178 DOWN IN TENNKSSKT'. 
 
 Before they reached Forrest's head-quarters at McMinnville, 
 they were set upon by a squad of Union cavalry, who rescued 
 the prisoner, captured a half dozen of the privates, and gave the 
 captain a mortal wound in the side. Bible laid him upon the 
 grass, and, taking his head tenderly in his lap, prayed for him. 
 As the Captain turned his eyes to take a last look at the setting 
 sun, he placed the scout's hand against his heart, and saying, 
 " I'm going now I feel at peace I owe it to you GOD bless 
 you for it, may GOD for ever bless you," he uttered a low 
 moan, and died. 
 
 While the rebel forces lay encamped around Chattanooga, 
 Bible made them a professional visit. For two days, from the 
 top of Lookout Mountain, he looked down on their fortifications. 
 With the works fully mapped in his mind, so that, in his rude 
 way, he could sketch them upon paper, he started, just at night- 
 fall of a murky, stormy day, to make his way northward. Ar- 
 riving at the house of a pretended friend, he took supper, and 
 retired to sleep in a small room on the ground floor. It was 
 not far from eleven o'clock, and raining and blowing violently, 
 when a light rap came at his window. He got up he always 
 slept in his clothes, with his arms about him and applying his 
 ear to the glass, heard a low voice say : 
 
 " Ye is betrayed. Come out ter onst. They'll be yere in a 
 hour." 
 
 He lifted the sash, and, springing lightly into the yard, saw 
 as well as the night would permit a young octoroon woman 
 standing unprotected in the storm, thinly clad, and drenched 
 from head to foot. Leading him out into the darkness, she said 
 to him : 
 
 "This man's son war at master's house not a hour back.
 
 BIBLE'S SCOUTING ADVENTURES. 179 
 
 He's telled on ye ter git the reward ! They's 'spectin' the cal- 
 vary uvery minnit. Hark ! I yere's 'em now !" 
 
 While she yet spoke he heard the heavy tramp of horsemen 
 along the highway. Placing her hand in his, the woman fled 
 hurriedly to the woods. When they had gone about a mile, 
 she paused, and said to him : 
 
 " I karn't go no furder. I must git home or they'll 'spect 
 suthin'. When they find ye's gone, the calvary'll make far the 
 landin'. Ye must go up the -river, an' 'bout two mile frum 
 yere ye'll find a yawl. It'r chained, but ye kin break thet. 
 Doan't cross over a hull regiment is 'camped on t'other side 
 put up the river so fur as ye kin." 
 
 With a mutual " God bless ye," they parted. Bible made 
 his way to the river, and narrowly inspected its banks, but no 
 boat was to be seen ! He had spent two hours in the search, 
 when he came to a bend in the stream which gave him an un- 
 interrupted view of it for miles below. All along the river the 
 air was alive with torches hurrying to and fro. He knew his 
 pursuers would soon be upon him, and ejaculating a short pray- 
 er, in which he reminded the LORD that the information he car- 
 ried in his head was of " no oncommon vallu, orter be got tcr 
 the giniral ter onst, an' wouldn't be uv no yerthly use" if he 
 were hanged just then, he crept down to the water. Entangled in 
 the underbrush just above him was a large log, the estray prop- 
 erty of some up-country sawyer. Dropping himself into the 
 water, he made his way to the log, and, laying down on at it full 
 length, paddled out into the river. When he had reached the 
 middle of the stream, he let himself drift down with the current, 
 and in a short time was ainon^ his pursuers. A thousand 
 torches blazing on either bank lit up the narrow river with a
 
 180 DOWN IN TENNESSKJE. 
 
 lurid glare, and made the smallest object on its surface dis- 
 tinctly visible. Knowing that if he kept his position he would 
 certainly be seen, Bible rolled off into the water, turned over 
 on his back, and, keeping one hand upon the log, floated along 
 beside it. When he came opposite to the landing, he heard 
 one cavalryman say to another : 
 
 "See! thar's a log; moughtent the darned critter be on 
 thet?" 
 
 " No," replied the other ; " thar's nothin' on it. Yer eyes 
 is no better 'n moles." 
 
 " Wall, I'll gnv it a shot, anyhow," rejoined the first, and 
 fired his carbine. The bullet glanced from the log, and struck 
 the water a few feet from the scout. The one shot attracted 
 others, and for a few minutes the balls fell thickly around him, 
 but he escaped unhurt ! The GOD to whom he had prayed 
 shielded him, and brought him safely out of the hands of his 
 enemies. In six days, after unparalleled hardships, he reached 
 the Union lines. 
 
 A few days before I left Murfreesboro, Bible started on an- 
 other trip into the enemies' lines to establish a chain of spy 
 stations up to Bragg's head-quarters. He succeeded in the per- 
 ilous enterprise, and, when I last heard of him, was pursuing 
 his usual avocation, doing really more service to the country 
 than many a star-shouldered gentleman who is talked of now in 
 the newspapers, and may be read of centuries hence in history. 
 
 If I have outlined his character distinctly, the reader has 
 perceived that he is brave, simple-hearted, outspoken, hospita- 
 ble, enterprising, industrious, loyal to liberty, earnest in his 
 convictions though iguorantly confounding names with things 
 a good husband and father, with a quiet humor which flavors
 
 BIBLE'S SCOUTING ADVENTURES. 131 
 
 character as Worcester sauce flavors a good dinner, a practi- 
 cal wisdom which " trusts in the LORD, but keeps its powder 
 dry," some talent for bragging, and that intensity of nature and 
 disposition to magnify every thing (illustrated in his stories and 
 conversation) which leads the Southerner to do nothing by 
 halves, to throw his whole soul into whatever he undertakes, to 
 be, like Jeremiah's figs, " if good, very good ; if bad, not fit to 
 feed the pigs." Though morally and intellectually superior to 
 the mass of " poor Southern whites," he is still a good represent- 
 ative of the class. They nearly all possess the same traits that 
 he does, and differ from him only in degree, not in kind. 
 That is saying little against them, for one might travel a whole 
 summer's day in our Northern cities, and not meet many men 
 who, in all that makes true manhood, are his equals.
 
 182 
 
 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE " POOR WHITES." 
 
 PROFESSOR CAIRNES, in his very valuable and generally accu- 
 rate work on the Slave Power (pages 54, 55), says : 
 
 " In the Southern States, no less than five millions of human 
 beings are now said to exist in a condition little removed from 
 savage life, eking out a wretched subsistence by hunting, by 
 fishing, by hiring themselves out for occasional jobs, and by 
 plunder. Combining the restlessness and contempt for regular 
 industry peculiar to the savage, with the vices of the proletaire 
 of civilized communities, these people make up a class at once 
 degraded and dangerous ; and constantly re-enforced, as they are, 
 by all that is idle, worthless, and lawless among the population 
 of the neighboring States, form an inexhaustible preserve of 
 ruffianism, ready at hand for all the worst purposes of Southern 
 
 ambition Such are the " mean whites" or " white trash" 
 
 of the Southern States This class comprises, as I have 
 
 said, five millions of human beings about seven-tenths of the 
 whole white population." 
 
 This opinion of Professor Cairnes is no doubt held by fully 
 nineteen-twentieths of the people of the Northern States and of 
 England. But it is a great a very great error. Having read 
 of, or seen, the wretched specimens of humanity who loiter 
 about the railway stations, or hover around the large plantations
 
 THE "POOR WHITES." 183 
 
 on the great Southern thoroughfares, they have jumped to the 
 conclusion that they represent "seven-tenths of the whole white 
 population" of the South ! The very idea is preposterous, for 
 if it were so, one-half of the Southern people would be paupers, 
 and no community could exist which had to support that propor- 
 tion of non-producers. But it is not so. The great mass of 
 " poor whites" are superior (and I say this with due deliberation, 
 and after sixteen years' acquaintance with them) to every other 
 class of un-cultivated men, save our Northern farmers, on the 
 globe. They all were born in this country, and have imbibeu 
 from our institutions distorted and perverted as they are at the 
 South a sturdy independence, and an honest regard for each 
 other's rights, which make them, though of Scotch, Scotch- 
 Irish, or English descent, better soldiers, better citizens, and 
 better men than the over-worked, ignorant, half-starved, turbu- 
 lent, and degraded peasantry whom England vomits upon the 
 North to create riots, rule in our elections, and support such 
 politicians as Fernando Wood. 
 
 There is at the South such a class as Mr. Cairues speaks of. 
 They are appropriately called " mean trash," and " eke out a 
 wretched subsistence by hunting, by fishing, by hiring them- 
 selves out for occasioaal jobs, and by plunder," but they are a 
 comparatively small class. The census shows that they cannot 
 number above half a million. 
 
 These people do combine " the restlessness and contempt for 
 regular industry peculiar to the savage, with the vices of the 
 proletaire of civilized communities," are "at once degraded and 
 dangerous," and form a " preserve of ruffianism, ready at hand 
 for all the worst purposes of Southern ambition." In fact, I was 
 about to add that all the ruffianism of the South is confined to
 
 184: DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 them and to the " chivalry," but I will not say it, for it would 
 not be strictly true. 
 
 To give the reader an idea of what these " mean whites" 
 are, I will glance for a moment at their habits and ways 
 of living. Often their houses are the rude pole wigwams of tho 
 Indian shaped like a sugar-loaf with merely a hole at the 
 top to let the smoke out, and the rain in ; but, generally, they 
 live in small huts of rough logs, through the crevices of which the 
 wind, in winter, whistles a most melancholy tune. These huts 
 are floored with nothing but the ground hardened with mauls, 
 and hollowed at the centre, as if to hold the rain that comes in' 
 at the roof and their one apartment is furnished with a few 
 rickety chairs, a pine log hewn smooth on the upper side, and 
 made to serve as a sofa a cracked skillet, a dirty frying-pan 
 an old-fashioned rifle, two or three sleepy dogs, and a baker's 
 dozen of half-clad children, with skins and hair colored like a 
 tallow candle dipped in tobacco-juice. In one corner may be a 
 mud oven, half crumbled back to its original earth, and in the 
 others, two or three low beds, with corn-shuck mattresses and 
 tattered furnishings; but the whole aspect of the place reminds 
 one strongly of a tolerably-kept swine-sty or dog-kennel. 
 The character of the inmates of these hovels is suited to their 
 surroundings. They are indolent, shiftless, and thieving ; given 
 to whiskey-drinking, snuff-dipping, clay-eating, and all manner 
 of social rices. Brothers intermarry with sisters, fathers co- 
 habit with daughters, and husbands sell, or barter away, their 
 wives, as freely as they would their hounds, or as the planter 
 would his slaves. I have myself met a number of these white 
 women who had been sold into prostitution by their natural 
 protectors, for a few dollars or a good rifle.
 
 THE "TOOK WHITES." 185 
 
 Their indolence is almost past belief. They are literally " too 
 lazy to come in when it rains." A traveler tells of asking shel- 
 ter at one of their shanties in a storm. The rain was pouring 
 in at the roof, and the family were huddled about the only dry 
 spot on the floor. 
 
 " Why don't you mend your roof?" the traveler asked. 
 
 " Stranger," replied the host, " we can't do it it rains." 
 
 " But it doesn't always rain why not mend it in dry 
 weather ?" 
 
 "Why, wh whot's the use o' mendin' it when it doan't 
 leak ?" was the very sensible reply. 
 
 Still, they have a mortal antipathy to water. They never 
 take it outwardly, unless the roof leaks, or they are caught out 
 in a rain-storm, and never inwardly, unless it is mixed with 
 apple-jack or whiskey. Whiskey is their staple beverage. By 
 exchanging deer or other game (their only currency) at some 
 cross-road doggery, they obtain plentiful supplies of a vile fluid, 
 which is compounded of log-wood, strychnine, juniper berries, 
 and alcohol, and " circulates" among them under the appropri- 
 ate names of " Tangle-foot," " Blue-ruin," " Red-eye," " Bust- 
 head," and " Knock-'em-stiff." If the vender of this vile stuff 
 did not dilute it freely with water so freely that it rarely fails 
 to itself ," get tight" in cold weather the race of mean South- 
 ern whites" would soon be swept from the earth. As it is, they 
 seem to thrive and fatten upon it ; old men, dozing away in the 
 chimney-corner, and little children, tottling about the floor, 
 drink it as if it were water. 
 
 A Northern man was once forced to dine at one of their 
 hoyels. Missing the customary " whiskey-kag" from the table, 
 be said to the housewife :
 
 186 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 " Can't you give me a mug of Knock-'em-stiff?" 
 
 " I can't, Stranger," was her reply : " I hain't nary drap ter 
 speer." 
 
 " None to spare ! Why, I see a barrel of it there in the cor- 
 ner !" 
 
 " A barr'l uv it !" exclaimed the woman, " why, whot's thet 
 fur a lone widder an' sevin chillen ? We shill be nation dry 
 'fore winter's over!" 
 
 Not one in a thousand of these people can read, and not one 
 in ten thousand can write. I have known many who never saw 
 a book or a newspaper, and some who never heard of a Bible 
 or a spelling-book. As a consequence of such ignorance, they 
 have very crude notions of God and religious duty. In fact, 
 though they often spend weeks at camp-meetings, shouting 
 " Glory" and groaning " Old Hundred," they have no religion. 
 I once heard one of their preachers deliver a sermon which well 
 illustrated their knowledge of spiritual things. 
 
 It was at a little church in the shadow of Bald mountain, one 
 of the immense range dividing North Carolina from Tennessee. 
 
 The building was a simple structure of logs, with a puncheon 
 floor, and a single opening for a door, but without a window or 
 a chimney. On a bare spot in its centre a huge light-wood fire 
 was blazing, and roaring, and fuming and forcing thick volumes 
 of smoke into the people's eyes till they wept as if they were 
 so many watering-pots. The congregation was seated around 
 this fire on benches of rough logs, and the preacher occupied a 
 small platform, raised a^ few steps from the floor, and furnished 
 with a single block of wood which officiated as a chair. The 
 women had bare heads and feet, and their only garment (it was 
 the month of November) seemed to be a coarse cottonade gown,
 
 THE "POOR WHITES." 187 
 
 falling straight from the neck to just below the knees. The 
 men had long matted hair and shaggy beards, and wore slouched 
 hats (they kept them on during the services), and linsey trowsers, 
 and hunting shirts, so begrimed with dirt, and so torn and 
 patched in a thousand places, that scarcely a vestige of the 
 original material was left visible to the naked eye. Many of 
 them owing, no doubt, to their custom of intermarrying were 
 deformed and apparently idiotic, and they all had stunted, ague- 
 distorted bodies, untanned-leather skins, small heads, round as 
 bullets, and coarse, wiry hair, which looked like shreds of 
 oakum gathered into mops, and dyed with lamp-black. 
 
 The preacher's text, which he credited to the apostle DAVID, 
 was : " Try the sperrets ;" and he showed, to the satisfaction of 
 his auditory, that while Scripture expressly enjoins the taking 
 of " a little wine" which, he said, was the ancient name for 
 "Whiskey " for the stomach's sake," it as expressly requires that 
 we shall " try the sperrets," or, in other words, that we shall 
 drink none but the very best whiskey we can get. He reckoned 
 "thet sech ruin as come from 'Hio, an' could be got ter Jim 
 Decker's over the mountain ter Jonesboro far a coon-skin a 
 gallon, was purty tollable sort o' ruin, an' mought do fur white 
 folk, but sech as Dan Ferguson 'stilled, down thar ter the mill, 
 warn't no way fit fur a boss ter drink." He belabored bad 
 whiskey, for a time, with savage vehemence, and then opened 
 his batteries upon tobacco. Whiskey was, as the Bible 
 affirms, good for the stomach, and he reckoned the " clar stuff 
 wouldn't hurt no part uv a h umin bein'," but tobacco was a vile 
 thing that would kill any living creature but woman ; and how 
 she could chaw it, and smoke it, and snuff it, and dip it, as she 
 did, he couldn't see, no how. Its use warn't noway sanctioned
 
 188 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 by Scriptur,' and nary one uv the Apostles, Prophets, or good 
 men of the olden time uver used it; and while the Bible often 
 spoke of wine and " sperrets, it nuver onst mentioned the name 
 uv terbacker, and that proved it couldn't be good ter take !" 
 
 When he had " adjourned the meeting" for a fortnight 
 PROVIDENCE wullin', an' thar bein' no freshet on the mounting 
 I ventured to suggest to him that it was possible he had mis- 
 understood his text, and I then learned that he could not read, 
 and that a neighboring planter one of the chivalry had given 
 him the text, outlined his subject, told him that the text refers 
 to ardent spirits, and that he must be sure to " pitch powerful 
 strong inter Dan Ferguson's whiskey." 
 
 [The men who can thus sport with the best feelings of their 
 fellows, are, as we know, capable of worse things.] 
 
 Nowhere but in the Slave States is there a class of whites so 
 ignorant and so degraded as are these people. In every other' 
 country the peasantry labor, are the principal producers, the 
 really indispensable part of the community; but the "me;m 
 white" of the South does not know how to labor ; he pro- 
 duces nothing; he is a fungous growth on the body of society, 
 absorbing the strength and life of its other parts, and he would 
 not exist if the Southern system were in a healthy state. And 
 he is the natural product of Slavery, for slavery, which makes 
 the slave the planter's blacksmith, and wheelwright, and carpen- 
 ter, and artisan of all work, shuts upon the mean white man 
 every avenue of honest toil, and drives him to the barren sand- 
 hills to starve and to die. 
 
 He steals the deer from the planter's forests, the hams from 
 his smoke-houses, and the chickens from his hen-roosts, and he 
 vends corruption and bad whiskey among the negroes ; but the
 
 TEIE " POOR WHITES." 189 
 
 planter tolerates him for his vote. I have seen a planter march 
 twenty of these wretched caricatures of humanity up to the polls, 
 and when they had voted at his bidding, have had him turn 
 to me and say, with a sneer on his lips : 
 
 "This is your boasted Democracy; this trash governs this 
 country ; Jefferson gave them the right of suffrage, and they 
 suppose they are voting for Jefferson now" 
 
 "But," I said to him, " why do you not let them think? why 
 not give them schools and work f" 
 
 " Because," he replied, " if we did, they might not vote for 
 Jefferson !" 
 
 To these " mean whites," Mr. Cairnes's description appropri- 
 ately applies, and it applies only to them. The great mass of 
 poor whites, as T have said, are a very different people. The 
 poor white man labors, the mean white man does not labor; and 
 labor marks the distinction between them. Labor makes one 
 hardy, industrious, and enterprising, a law-abiding and useful 
 citizen ; idleness makes the other thieving, vicious, law-breaking, 
 and of " no sort of account" to himself or society. 
 
 The laboring whites comprise two-thirds of the free popula- 
 tion of the South, and they have done more for its material 
 progress than all its " chivalry" and all its slaves. They have 
 done more, because they have worked under the stimulus of 
 freedom, and because they vastly outnumber the other classes. 
 The census shows that on the first of June, 1860, there were in 
 the fourteen Slave States, exclusive of Delaware, one million, 
 three hundred and fifty-nine thousand, six hundred and fifty-five 
 white males engaged in agricultural and other out-door employ- 
 ments. Of this number, nine hundred and one thousand, one 
 hundred and two are classed as "farmers" men who till their
 
 190 DOWN IX TKNNES3EE. 
 
 own land: two hundred and thirty thousand, one hundred and 
 forty-six are classed as " farm-laborers" men who till the land 
 of others : and two hundred and twenty-eight thousand, four 
 hundred and seven are classed as " laborers" men engaged in 
 out-door work other than the tillage of land. The " farmers" 
 are not to be confounded with the planters men who work 
 large tracts of land and large bodies of slaves, but do not work 
 themselves for the census takes distinct account of the latter. 
 They number only eighty-five thousand, five hundred and fifty- 
 eight, but such has been the working of the peculiar institu- 
 tion they own nearly three-fourths of the negroes and landed 
 property of the South. These one million, three hundred and 
 odd thousand of laboring white men represent a population of 
 about six millions ; and if we add to them the four hundred 
 thousand represented by the planters, and the one million repre- 
 sented by men in trade, manufactures, and the professions, there 
 can hardly remain, in a total population of less than eight mil- 
 lions, "five millions of human beings who eke out a wretched 
 subsistence by hunting, by fishing, by hiring themselves out foi 
 occasional jobs, and by plunder." Half a million the number 
 I before stated is vastly nearer the truth. 
 
 Little is known at the North of this large working population, 
 for the reason that they live remote from the great traveled routes, 
 and have been seldom seen by travelers. They are scattered 
 over all the South, but are most numerous in the Border States 
 and in Texas. The most of them own "small farms, and till the 
 soil with their own hands. Some of them have one or two 
 slaves, and in rare instances the more industrious have acquired 
 ten or fifteen -but they work with the blacks in the fields, and 
 treat them very much as our Northeru farmers treat their hired
 
 THK " POOU WHITES." 191 
 
 workmen. Before the war the traveler in the interior of Noith 
 Carolina would have heard the axe of master and man falling, 
 with alternate strokes, in the depths of the evergreen forests, 
 or he would have seen the two " camped out" together in the 
 -same tent or pine-pole cabin, drinking from the same gourd 
 the darky always after his master eating from the same rude 
 table, and sharing the same bed the cabin floor in common. 
 So, too, in Kentucky, Tennessee, Missouri, Western Virginia, 
 and middle and upper Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi, he 
 would have seen the white and the black ploughing side by side, 
 or, bared to the waist, swinging the old-fashioned scythe, in 
 good-natured rivalry as to which could cut the broadest swath 
 of yellow wheat or waving timothy, or tote the biggest bundle 
 of corn to the evening husking-bee. And when the evening 
 had come, he would have found them gathered in the old log 
 barn, husking, and singing, and shouting, and dancing in com- 
 pany, to the tune of " Ole Virginny," or " Rose, Rose, de coal 
 brack Rose," played by "old Uncle Ned," who "had no wool 
 on de top ob his head," but whose skinny fingers, with handy 
 blows, could rap the music out of " de ole banjoes."- 
 
 The more wealthy of this class sometimes give their children 
 what might be called a fair common-school education, but fully 
 one-half of them never learn to read or write. The reason of 
 this is, there are no schools for the common people at the South. 
 In a village, ten or twenty miles distant, there may be a preten- 
 tious " Female College," or " Institute of Learning for Young 
 Men," where " a little Latin and less Greek" is dispensed to the 
 young idea at the rate of four or five hundred dollars per annum, 
 but these prices place their " stores of knowledge" far above the 
 reach, of the hard-toiling farmer. Only in Tennessee, so far
 
 192 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 as I know, are there any free schools, and the scanty State al- 
 lowance which formerly supported them, was dealt out with a 
 most parsimonious hand by the ruling aristocracy. How much 
 light those institutions gave the people, may be guessed at from 
 the fact that any one was qualified to instruct in them who ' 
 could "read, write, and do sums in addition." 
 
 So many of these people being unable to read, it may be in- 
 ferred they generally do not " take the papers." They do not. 
 And why should they? Would it be wisdom in the Southern 
 farmer, while his wife and children were barefoot, and the wolf 
 hunger was looking in at his door, to waste one-tenth of his only 
 bale of cotton on a wretched hebdomadal, filled with Secession, 
 slavery, and negro advertisements, whose stupid editorial he 
 would be a fortnight in spelling out ? 
 
 As he does not read, he has to derive his knowledge of cur- 
 rent events and political affairs from his wealthier neighbor, 
 who does read, and who is sure to be a slave-owner, and one of 
 the self-baptized " chivalry." At a political barbacue, or a court- 
 day gathering, the farmer may hear, once or twice in the year, the 
 two sides of-every national question but the, to him, all-import- 
 ant one of slavery. If that subject is at all touched upon on 
 such an occasion, it is shown to be of divine origin dating 
 back to the time when Ham first cast a black shadow acrdss his 
 looking-glass, and only to end when the skins of his descendants 
 no longer wear mourning for their forefather's sin. 
 
 Thus ignorant, and thus instructed, is it strange that the South- 
 ern farmer deems slavery altogether lovelier than freedom ? What 
 does he know of freedom ? What does he know of what it has 
 done for the poor man of the North? Nothing. He never 
 saw a Northern man in all his life, except, it may be, a Yankee
 
 THE " POOR WHITES." 193 
 
 pedlar, and be ray Yankee friends will, I hope, take no offence 
 at my saying this, for I am a Yankee myself he, when he mi- 
 grates South, develops into about the meanest specimen of hu- 
 manity to be found on this planet. 
 
 If the Southern workingman knew what freedom is ; if he 
 knew what it does at the North ; how it builds a free school 
 at every cross-road, while knowledge is saddled with a 
 Merrill tariff at the South ; how it makes the Northern laborer 
 comparatively rich, while he is wretchedly poor ; how it gives 
 the Northern farmer a comfortable home for himself and out- 
 buildings for his cattle, while he lodges in a mud-chinked hovel, 
 and stables his cows in the woods ; how the Northern working- 
 man travels in luxurious steamboats or velvet-cushioned cars, 
 while he journeys on the hurricane deck of a mule, or in that 
 sort of railway train that will climb the steepest grade, if it only 
 has time enough an ox-cart drawn by a single two-year-old 
 heifer; how the Northern farmer is respected and honored be- 
 cause he labors, while he is looked down upon and despised for 
 doing the same thing; how the poorest Northern man votes, 
 independently and intelligently, as one of the real " sovereigns 
 of the nation," while he, misled by a stump speech, or bribed 
 by a glass of whiskey, ignorantly casts his ballot for the very 
 men who are robbing him of his birth-right : if he knew all this, 
 would he not crush slavery, and end the rebellion in a day ? 
 He would. And slavery will not be effectually crushed, or the 
 Rebellion ended, until he does' know it. We may overrun the 
 South, we may make its fields a desolation, and its cities heaps 
 of ruin, but until we reach the reason and the hearts of these 
 men, we shall stand ever on the crater of a volcano, whose red- 
 hot lava may at any hour again burst forth and deluge the land 
 9
 
 194: DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 with blood and fire ! It is idle to talk of conquering a union 
 with a disaffected people. It never was done, and never will be 
 done. Ireland, and Italy, and Hungary, ought to convince us 
 of that. 
 
 But' how, -while every able-bodied Southern man is in the 
 Rebel army, can we reach these people ? I answer, by fighting 
 them with a sword in one hand and a Union newspaper in the 
 other by giving them ideas as well as bullets. By scattering 
 loyal publications broadcast over the conquered districts ; and by 
 starting a free press wherever we hold a foot of Southern soil. 
 If the men are away in the army, the women will be at home, and 
 will read these things, and th'at will be enough. If we convert 
 them, the country is saved. Woman, in this century, is every 
 where that "power behind the throne" which is mightier than 
 the throne itself, and the Southern women have been, and are, 
 the mainspring of this Rebellion. Every dollar that we thus 
 plant in the South will spring up a man, in tattered hat and 
 ragged butternuts, it may be, but still a man, hardy, earnest, 
 brave, who, for what he thinks is right, will march straight up 
 to the cannon's month, and meet death " as if he loved it." 
 
 I have been led into this long digression by an earnest desire 
 to disabuse the Northern mind in regard to these people. For 
 this reason I have drawn, at full length, the portraits of " Long 
 Tom" and "Bible Smith" in this volume, and of "Andy Jones" 
 and the farmer " Barnes" in the book " Among the Pines." 
 They are all representatives of this class. I have endeavored 
 to sketch their characters faithfully extenuating nothing and 
 setting nothing down in malice that the reader may believe, 
 what I know, that there is not in the whole North a more 
 worthy industrious enterorisino- honest, brave, and liberty-
 
 THE "POOR WHITES." ]9"> 
 
 loving class of people than the great body of poor Southern 
 whites. Take the heel of the man-buying and woman-whipping 
 aristocrat from off their necks, give them free schools and a 
 chance to rise, and they will make the South, with its prolific 
 soil, its immense water-power, and its vast mineral wealth, such 
 a country as the sun never yet looked upon, and this Union 
 such a Union as will be, in truth, " the light of the nations and 
 the glory of the earth !"
 
 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A DAY WITH ROSECRAN8. 
 
 THAT afternoon I sent my letters to the Commanding Gene- 
 ral, and the next morning, after breakfast, taking particular 
 direction from the " culled gemman" who had been my bearer 
 of dispatches, I set out in search of his quarters. On a sido 
 street at a little distance from the centre of the town, I found 
 a modest brick building, from the balcony of which a large flag 
 was flying. Before this house a solitary sentinel'was pacing to 
 and fro with a musket on his shoulder, and in the court-yard 
 beyond it, in the shade of a group of tents, half a dozen officers 
 were reading newspapers, or lazily puffing away at their meer- 
 schaums. Near by, in the door-way of a smaller building, an 
 edifice about as large as a half grown hen-coop, with his body 
 balanced on the legs of a rosewood chair, and his feet braced 
 against the door jam, another soldier was indulging in the de- 
 lightful employments of his superiors. Approaching this soldier, 
 I said to him : 
 
 " Are these the General's quarters ?" 
 
 " Yaw, yaw, General Rosey. Dat is he, dat is he," replied 
 the "adopted citizen," pointing to an officer on a powerful 
 gray, at the head of a squadron of cavalry, which just then was 
 thundering down the road. The escort halted abreast of the 
 principal entrance, and the officer a straight, compactly built, 
 quick- motioned man, in a- rusty uniform, a worn slouched hat,
 
 A DAT WITH KOSECRANS. 197 
 
 and mud-encrusted cavalry boots sprang to the ground. A 
 few other officers followed him, and then, without a word being 
 spoken, the cavalry wheeled, and thundered down the road 
 again. 
 
 " And that is the General ?" I said to the soldier. 
 
 " Yaw, yaw, dat is old Rosey. I fights mit him." 
 
 "Then, you don't 'fight mit Sigel?'" I rejoined, smiling. 
 
 "Yaw, yaw, I fights mit Segel py-me-by (before.) 1 fights 
 mit Kosey now. Him better as Sigel." 
 
 Not pausing to discuss the respective merits of the two com- 
 manders, I entered the wide hall of the larger building, and 
 said to an orderly on duty near the door-way : 
 
 " Will you take my name to the General ?" 
 
 " Av coorse, yer honor," replied the soldier, his mouth dis- 
 tending into a good-natured grin ; " but as ye knows it an' I 
 don't, hedn't ye better be after takin' it ter him yerself. Ye'll 
 find him in there." 
 
 Following the direction in which he pointed, I entered a room 
 at the left, on the door of which were posted, in large letters, 
 the words " Aides-de-Camp." It was a square, spacious apart- 
 ment, with a huge fire-place surmounted by a wooden mantel, 
 a smoke-begrimed ceiling, dingy walls, covered with gaudy 
 paper hangings, and two wide windows looking out upon the 
 street. A camp cot, dressed in a soldier's blanket, and a pair 
 of jackboots, stood in one corner, and in the others were a 
 miscellaneous assortment of swords, spurs, muskets, knapsacks, 
 and kindred articles known to modern warfare. A variety of 
 dilapidated chairs, and canvas-bottomed stools, straggled about 
 the floor, and between the windows was a large round table, 
 littered over with maps, newspapers, and writing utensils. At
 
 198 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 this table were two or three young gentlemen in the uniform of 
 staff officers, and addressing one of them, I asked if the General 
 were " visible" so early in the day. He replied that he was 
 then at breakfast, but that the Chief of Staff could be seen at 
 once. Expressing a desire to meet that gentleman, I was con- 
 ducted into an adjoining room, of smaller dimensions but fur- 
 nished in much the same manner as the other. In a corner 
 by the window, seated at a small pine desk, a sort of packing 
 box, perched on a long-legged stool, and divided into pigeon- 
 holes, with a turn-down lid was a tall, deep-chested, sinewy 
 built man, with regular, massive features, a full, clear blue eye, 
 slightly dashed with gray, and a high, broad forehead, rising 
 into a ridge over the eyes as if it had been thrown up by a 
 plough. There was something singularly engaging in his open, 
 expressive face, and his whole appearance indicated, as the 
 phrase goes, "great reversed power." His uniform, though 
 cleanly brushed, and setting easily upon him, had a sort of 
 democratic air, and every thing about him seemed to denote 
 that he was "a man of the people." A rusty slouched hat 
 large enough to have fitted Daniel Webster, lay on the desk 
 before him, but a glance at that was not needed to convince 
 me that his head held more than the common share of brains. 
 Though he is yet young not thirty-three the reader has heard 
 of him, and if he lives, he will make his name long remembered 
 in our history. He glanced at me as I approached, and when 
 I mentioned my name, rose, and extending his hand in a free, 
 cordial way, said : 
 
 " I am glad to meet you. I have seen your handwriting 
 , his (X) mark." 
 
 " And I have seen yours," I replied, grasping his hand with
 
 A DAY WITH ROSECKANS. 109 
 
 equal cordiality. " But, you write with a steel pen epics, in 
 the measure of Hail Columbia.* 
 
 I sat down, and in ten minutes knew him as well as I might 
 have known some other men in ten years. Nearly an hour 
 had slipped away in pleasant chat with him, and my intended 
 interview with Rosecrans was almost forgotten, when Garfield 
 reminded me that I had better see the General before he was 
 overrun with visitors. Opening the door of an inner room, he 
 led me at once into another large, square apartment, which 
 had, like the first, a bare floor, and greasy walls, hung round 
 with maps, and decorated with gaudy paper-hangings, done 
 into panels huge enough to have fitted the " grand hall" of the 
 Mammoth Cave. At the right of the doorway was a high- 
 post bedstead, covered with a spotless white counterpane, and 
 about the room, in appropriate places, were a few hard-bot- 
 tomed chairs, a pine wash-stand, with earthenware wash-basin, 
 and wooden water-pail, and an old-fashioned sideboard, evi- 
 dently the left-behind property of the previous occupant On 
 the mantel were a few books, a brace of revolvers, a silver- 
 hilted sword bearing marks of " actual service," and two or 
 three kerosene lamps, which, to all appearance, had done abso- 
 lutely nothing towards dispelling the darkness of this " be- 
 nighted world." Against the wall, by the front window, was a 
 large pine table, surmounted by a frame-work of "pigeon holes," 
 and on it were various open maps, several secession newspapers, 
 some bundles of " official documents" done up in " red tape," 
 
 * When about to lead the final charge at the battle of Middle-Creek, 
 General Garfleld pulled off his coat, tossed it up into a tree and, turning 
 to his men, cried : " Come on, boys ! Give them Hail Columbia." The 
 men threw up their caps with a wild shout, rushed at the euerny, and 
 drove them from the field, General Garfield leading the way.
 
 200 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 and a huge pile of unopened letters. There seemed a place for 
 every thing and every thing seemed in its place, but the mingled 
 air of rustic simplicity and faded gentility which pervaded the 
 room, had a most grotesque effect, and only one object in it 
 at all indicated that it was the private apartment of one of the 
 first military men of the time. That one object was Rose- 
 crans himself. 
 
 He sat bolt upright in a rosewood arm-chair, covered with 
 faded brocatelle, and sadly out at the elbows; and, with a 
 cigar in his mouth, and a knife in his hand, was rapidly dis- 
 secting the letters which lay on' the table before him. When 
 my name was mentioned he rose, took my hand, and gave me 
 a quick, searching glance. In that glance I felt it he 
 sounded me, took my measure as accurately as if he had been 
 my tailor and, with unerring decision, fixed my exact place 
 in the scale of creation. From my first entrance into Ken- 
 tucky, from high and low, black and white, bond and free, 
 military men and civilians, I had heard nothing but extrava- 
 gant eulogies of this man, and I had come prepared to be dis- 
 appointed in him ; but that one glance, the indescribable smile 
 that passed over his face, and a certain atmosphere of power 
 which seemed to envelop him, made me feel that, for once, the 
 popular estimate was the true one. And no one ever came 
 within his influence without being fascinated as I was, or without 
 feeling, on the instant, the magnetism of a great nature. Mo- 
 tioning me to a seat, and resuming his letters, he said, while 
 another of those peculiar smiles passed over his face : 
 
 " I've been expecting you." 
 
 " Expecting me, Sir 1" I exclaimed in undisguised astonish- 
 ment. " I've heard you knew every thing. I reckon it's so."
 
 A DAY WITH KO8ECKAN3. 201 
 
 " Not exactly, but I knew you were coming. You've been 
 announced," and continuing to open the letters, he handed me 
 one of them. 
 
 It was from the chaplain of an Indiana regiment, whom the 
 red-faced landlord had stowed away in my room one night at 
 Nashville. The worthy gentleman had a plan for educating 
 the blacks in " ten lessons of one hour each," and, not content 
 with boring me with it till two o'clock in the morning, had, 
 without my consent, written Rosecrans referring him to me for 
 " further particulars." 
 
 " What do you know of that man ?" he asked, going on with 
 his letters. 
 
 " Nothing. I never saw him." 
 
 " Never saw him !" 
 
 " No. I went to bed without a candle, and he left before I 
 awoke in the morning." 
 
 " But you formed some opinion of him. What was it?" 
 
 " That he knew about as much of the Southern negro, as I 
 know of the moon." 
 
 " I thought so. A mere theorist. Only practical men are 
 
 fit for the work we've in hand Mr. . What do you think 
 
 of the negro ?" 
 
 " That he is unfortunate in being black," I replied, smiling. 
 
 " Yes, yes, I know. But is he naturally equal to the white 
 man " 
 
 " Measured by the New Testament standard he may be su- 
 perior for he is meek enough to be a slave but measured by 
 our standard, he is certainly inferior. He has not the aggressive 
 qualities of the white man." 
 
 " Well, what shall we do with him ?" 
 9*
 
 202 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 " Let him alone." 
 
 " You are right," and for a moment he dropped the letters. 
 " Give him a Bible and a spelling-book, free air, and a chance 
 for something more than six feet of God's earth, and, LET HIM 
 ALONE." 
 
 Saying this he dived again into his correspondence. 
 
 " This war will give him all that," I replied. 
 
 " Yes, and it will give it to every working man, black or 
 white. This is the working man's war. For four thousand 
 years labor has been struggling for its rights now it will get 
 them. Would to God that eveiy poor man, North and South, 
 could realize this." 
 
 He kept on reading, but his fine face flushed, his nervous lip 
 quivered, and his clear, luminous eye actually blazed, as he 
 spoke these words. 
 
 " I am glad you sympathize with the working man," 1 
 said. 
 
 " Sympathize with him ! I honor him. He is the true noble- 
 man. Did you never read where it says, ' cursed is the ground 
 for thy sake T Does not that mean that God ordained labor 
 for our good ? that it is our highest glory ?" 
 
 The mass of letters, by this time, had adjusted themselves 
 into several separate heaps, and touching a small bell which 
 stood on the table, he said to a young officer who at once ap- 
 peared in the doorway : " Toinpey, hand these to Goddard, 
 these to Barnett, these to Taylor, and send this to Ducat, and 
 then come here with the Major. I've letters to write. Is any 
 one waiting to see me !" 
 
 " Yes, sir ; the Medical Director and half a dozen others," 
 answered the aide.
 
 A DAT WITH ROSECRAN8. 203 
 
 " Ask them in," and turning to me, he added : " Captain, 
 
 Thompson, this is our guest, Mr. . Get him a pass to go 
 
 and come when lie likes. Give him a horse, and a squad, 
 whenever he wants to go outside of the lines. He'll stay 
 with us a month or two." 
 
 " Say a day or two," I interrupted, laughing, " and you'll 
 come nearer the truth." 
 
 " Not a second less than a month. You can't get away till I 
 give you a pass." 
 
 The aide disappeared, and the Medical Director, and the 
 " half a dozen others" entered the room. 
 
 " Good morning, gentlemen. Be seated," said Rosecrans. 
 " What can I do for you, Doctor ?" 
 
 "The health of the men, General," replied the Doctor, "with 
 the warm weather coming on, requires more vegetable food. 
 Would it not be well to order potatoes?" 
 
 " I ordered them six weeks ago sent an officer into Ohio, 
 and for seven thousand dollars he bought what would have 
 
 D 
 
 cost us twenty-one thousand in Nashville. They ought to 
 have been here before now." 
 
 "General," said the medical man, with unaffected admira- 
 tion, " you think of every thing." 
 
 " I have to. Good morning, Doctor. Colonel, what can I 
 do for you ?" added the laconic general, turning to a slightly- 
 built, dark-complexioned young man, and introducing him to 
 me as follows : " Mr. , this is one of the McCook's. Colo- 
 nel Dan. You've heard of him." 
 
 At this moment the aides came in, and seated themselves at 
 the two opposite corners of the pine table. An orderly also 
 entered, and handed the General a note from one of the Corps
 
 201 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 commanders. Rosccrans introduced me to " the Major" the 
 other aide dictated to him a reply to the note, and in the 
 same breath said to McCook : 
 
 " Now, Colonel, what is it ?" 
 
 u My inen," said McCook, " in half an hour yesterday, sub- 
 scribed four thousand dollars to get the Henry rifle. I want 
 liberty to use it" 
 
 While the Colonel was speaking, the General took up the 
 pile of letters remaining on the table, and began dictating to 
 the two aides. 
 
 "Can they hit an elephant at a hundred paces?" he asked. 
 
 " Two hundred of them can hit the head of a candle box 
 three times in five, at three hundred yards," rejoined McCook, 
 a flush of pride on his face. A discussion as to the merits of 
 the different kinds of rifles ensued, but not understanding it 
 then, I cannot report it now. Meanwhile the General was dic- 
 tating as fast as the two aides could write, and addressing au' 
 occasional remark to me. McCook had done speaking, when a 
 very tall, ungainly man, with stooping shoulders, and long 
 white hair, entered the room, and stalking directly up to the 
 General, and taking his hand, said : 
 
 " I'm going by the train. Good-by." 
 
 " Good-by, and God bless you," returned Rosecrans, rising. 
 " If you ever want to come back, we'll find a warm place for 
 you." 
 
 " I know you will. I've had experience of your warm 
 places," rejoined the veteran, smiling. 
 
 " And he likes them," said the General, turning to me. 
 "At Stone River, in the hottest fire, when his men were 
 hugging the ground as if they'd bury themselves, the Parson
 
 A DAY WITH RO8ECKA.NS. 205 
 
 got up and made them a speech, and they do say, he told 
 them" 
 
 " No, I didn't. Don't traduce your friends, General," re- 
 joined the Parson, laughing. " Good-by." 
 
 " Good-by, and God bless you," said the General. 
 
 "Good-by, boys, all of you," said the Parson, warmly. 
 Every officer in the room grasped his hand, and amid a chorus 
 of " God bless yous" he went out. It was " the fighting Par- 
 son," Colonel Moody of the 74th Ohio. 
 
 A half a dozen others now crowded around and addressed 
 Rosccrans, who replied to each, and at the same time kept on 
 dictating, his words all the while pouring forth in quick, terse 
 sentences, his luminous eyes smiling, and his nervous fingers 
 thrumming an odd accompaniment on the ragged arm of his 
 chair. In all this he manifested no effort. I thought he 
 could have done twice as much had it been possible for 
 words to flow faster. His mind seemed to act with lightning 
 rapidity, flashing from premise to conclusion, and grasping with 
 ease half a dozen subjects in almost instantaneous succession. 
 At last I said to him : 
 
 " I have seen business men turn off work, but never any who 
 did it half so fast as you." 
 
 " I have been a business man. There are some relics of my 
 business career. I have credit for those at the Patent Office," 
 he replied, pointing to the lamps on the mantel-piece. They 
 were the " Patent. Kerosene Burners, warranted to give out 
 neither smoke nor odor," which every American housewife 
 values, but which ercry Ameiican housewife may not know she 
 owes to a Major-General. 
 
 Another aide then entered, and announced that several ladies
 
 200 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 of the Sanitary Commission, about to depart by the train, de- 
 sired to take leave of the General. " Show them in," he replied, 
 rising, and taking a single turn up and down the room. This 
 seemed a well understood signal, for all present except the 
 aides at once left the apartment. I was rising to follow 
 when he said to me : " Don't go. Stay, and after lunch we'll 
 ride out to Sherridan's." 
 
 The ladies came in, and the General entered into conversa- 
 tion with them in a free and vivacious manner, as if the in- 
 terests of a vast army, and movements involving the lives of 
 thousands had not, the moment before, engaged his attention. 
 They were all " 011 the shady side of forty," and one was not 
 a day younger than fifty ; but he addressed them throughout 
 the interview as " young ladies." When they had gone, I said 
 to him : " Don't consider me impertinent, but I am curious to 
 know why you called your visitors ' youny ladies.' " 
 
 " Because they are young. Any woman who comes a thou- 
 sand miles to attend on sick and dying men must be young- 
 young of soul and, no matter how old she grows, she'll always 
 be young." 
 
 The letters were written, the two aides had disappeared, and 
 another knot of officers had gathered around the General, when 
 a short, stout, thick-necked man, with puffy cheeks, coarse, 
 heavy features, and very much the air of a Bowery boy rigged 
 out in regimentals, swaggered into the room with his hat on. 
 Giving no heed to the galaxy of generals and major-generals 
 about me, he stalked up to Rosecrans, and said to him : " Can 
 I see you ?" They passed to the farther corner of the apart- 
 ment, and I asked the gentleman nearest me : " Who is he ?" 
 " General McCook," was the answer.
 
 A DAY WITH ROSECEAN8. 207 
 
 It was Major-General Alexander McDowell McCook the 
 " fighting McCook" who never fought without being beaten, 
 and has probably wasted more lives than any ten generals in 
 the army. 
 
 " Why do you always attack McCook ?" I asked Captain 
 Firman, the rebel General Wheeler's aide, a short time after- 
 wards. " Because we are always sure to whip him," was his 
 reply. 
 
 While the two generals were in conversation, a spare, sallow- 
 faced, dark-haired man, who had the air and manners of a 
 
 gentleman, entered the room, and bowing to the officers about 
 
 
 me, joined the two in the corner. " That is Crittenden," said 
 
 the officer. " They are here for consultation. We must leave." 
 We all passed into General Garfield's apartment, and every 
 chair and stool in the room, and the low camp-cot in the cor- 
 ner, were soon filled with " sitters" and sitters who would 
 grace any portrait-gallery in the world. 
 
 The reader has heard of every one of them. The stout, full- 
 faced, florid-complexioned man, leaning against the wall by the 
 window, was the " old Russian" Turchin. The very tall, slim 
 young man, with long*, dark hair and flowing beard, just then 
 canted back in his chair, with his long legs perched on the 
 window-sill, was the Chief of Cavalry Stanley. The hand- 
 some man next to him, with wavy, brown hair, and face so 
 much like Lowell's, was St. Clair Morton, who might be a poet, 
 and is a hero. The scarred warrior on his right, with long, 
 white beard, thin, gray tufts on the sides of his head, and spec- 
 tacles on his nose, was Van Clove; and leaning against the 
 wall, at his back, the dark man, with keen, intense eyes, heavy 
 black beard, and coarse, wiry hair, starting up into a sort
 
 208 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 of pyramid on the top of his head, was Jeff. C. Davis, who 
 killed Xelson. The plain, farmer-like, plucky-looking man on 
 my right, was Palmer now commanding the Fourteenth 
 Corps. The tall man next to him, in rusty uniform and big 
 boots, with a full, clear eye, and expressive face, was Negley ; 
 and in other parts of the room were Hazen, Lytle, Reynolds, 
 Marker, King, McKibben, and others, " too numerous to 
 mention." 
 
 Thrusting his pen behind his ear, Garfield wheeled about on 
 his stool, and opened the conversation. It soon turned upon 
 the rebellion, which he compared to the conspiracy of Catiline. 
 It had, he said, the same origin and objects, 'and was set afoot 
 by a similar class of bankrupt scoundrels. A discussion followed, 
 and in it, Garfield who, at fifteen, drove horses on a canal, 
 and worked his way through College with a saw and a jack- 
 plane displayed a classical knowledge that would have done 
 credit to any Harvard professor. At its close, a singularly 
 quiet, unassuming man, in plain pants, loose, blue sack, and 
 every-day boots, entered the room, and took a seat on the 
 window-sill, by the side of Stanley. He was below the me- 
 dium height, slightly built, with closely -cut hair and beard, 
 and a dark, sun-browned face. There was nothing about him 
 to attract attention, except his eye, but that seemed a ball, of 
 black flame. " How are you, Phil ?" " Good morning, Sherri- 
 dan," greeted him from various parts of the room, and Gar- 
 field, turning to me, said : " Mr. , this is General Sherridan." 
 
 It was the youngest corps commander in the army the man 
 who, when McCook was routed, stood so like a wall at Stone 
 River ; who led the desperate assault on Mission Ridge, and has 
 recently made the brilliant cavalry campaign in Virginia.
 
 A DAY WITH ROSECRAXS. 209 
 
 " Do you remember Pope's thirty thousand muskets and ten 
 thousand prisoners ?" asked a young officer near me. 
 
 "Yes, very well," I replied. 
 
 "I took the muskets, and Sherridan took the men. How 
 many were there, Sherridan ?" 
 
 " I don't remember," answered the quiet general. 
 
 " Well, I remember the muskets ; they counted nine hun- 
 dred and thirty not one more or less." 
 
 " I was with Pope at the second battle of Booneville," said 
 another general, " when Sherridan rode up and reported sixty- 
 five prisoners. ' Why don't you say five hundred ?' said Pope. 
 'Because there are only sixty-five,' said Sherridan. 'There 
 ought to be five hundred call them five hundred, any way,' 
 said Pope ; and five hundred they were but not in Sherridan's 
 report." 
 
 A general laugh followed, but the quiet hero said nothing, 
 and, in all I saw of him afterwards, I never heard him speak 
 disparagingly of any one. 
 
 " You got through at last, Sir," just then said a voice at my 
 elbow. Turning round, I saw a thin, spare man, with bushy, 
 gray hair, and about the keenest eye I ever saw, looking 
 in at the window. He was dressed in citizen's clothes, and 
 had under his arm a paper box filled with letters. 
 
 "Oh, yes," I replied, "I got through. But where have I 
 met you, Sir ?" 
 
 "Probably nowhere, but I know you," he replied, smiling; 
 " you see I have to look after suspicious new-comers." 
 
 There was a general laugh at my expense, and Stanley, 
 glancing at the box of letters, said to the civilian : 
 
 " Robbing the mails again, eh, Colonel ?"
 
 210 T)0\VN r IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 " Yes, bagged two thousand dollars this morning ; M and, ad- 
 dressing me, he added : " Some of your New York gift-book 
 and bogus-jewelry concerns, tempt our boys to waste money 
 on their woithless trash. I head them off by watching 
 the mails. I've stopped seventeen thousand dollars within a 
 fortnight sent it back to the boys with a little good advice, 
 gratis." 
 
 " You deserve the thanks of every soldier's wife and mother 
 in the country," I said warmly. 
 
 But he has not received even their thanks, and his great ser- 
 vices have had the poorest possible recognition from the Gov 
 eminent. It was " Colonel " Truesdail who organized the 
 admirable spy-system of the Cumberland army, which gave 
 Rosecrans such perfect information of the movements of the 
 enemy. 
 
 Just then the inner door opened, and McCook, looking for 
 all the world as if he had the universe on his shoulders, and 
 found it decidedly heavy, passed through the apartment, and 
 soon Rosecrans and Crittenden appeared, and we went in to 
 lunch. 
 
 At Stone River, during the second day's fight, a young 
 'cavalry officer rode up to General Thomas for orders. "Re- 
 port to Morton at the front," said the General, and shouting 
 to his men, the young man dashed on to where the battle was 
 raging hotly. Morton was not there. On he went again 
 to where Palmer was rolling back the red waves on the left, 
 but Morton was not there. On again he went, through the 
 thick smoke and the hurtling fire, to where Hazen was reaping 
 a harvest of death on that terrible " half-acre ;" but Morton 
 was not there. " Where is Morton ?" he cried. " At the
 
 A DAY WITH ROSECRANS. 211 
 
 front !" came back from out the smoke, and again be rode on 
 rode on past tbe "Burnt House" past where Rosecrans 
 sat like a statue amid a hailstorm of fire past where a reeking 
 funeral pile marked the outer line of intrenchments on to the 
 cannon-ploughed, death-strewn cotton-field! " Is he mad? 
 Call him back ! Call him back !" shouted the General, but the 
 bugle was drowned in the awful uproar, and still he rode on- 
 ward. Amazed the rebel gunners stood at their pieces, but 
 straight at them he rode with his handful of men. " I say, 
 Rebs," he shouted, " where' is Morton?" "Gone where you 
 are going," they answered, and the cannon echoed " Gone," and 
 he went back again, not a man wounded. 
 
 That young officer Lieutenant Kelley, 4th U. S. Cavalry 
 and the men who rode in that terrible ride, escorted us out to 
 Sherridan's. 
 
 4t 
 
 As we entered the forest encircling the town, Garfield broke 
 out with Hosea Bigelow's poem : 
 
 " I du believe in Freedom's cause," 
 
 and if the " down-east poet" would have any appreciation of 
 his own lines, he should hear them in some such grand old woods, 
 the words echoed back from the great spreading trees, and set. 
 to the music of a hundred horse's heels. He had scarcely 
 ended, when the General began to tell how : 
 
 "Zekle crep' up, quite unbeknown, 
 Au' peeked in thru the winder ; 
 While there sot Huldy all alone, 
 'ith no one nigh to hender." 
 
 " What would you give to have written that 1" he said, as 
 he finished the recitation.
 
 212 DOWN JN TENNESSEE. 
 
 " All the castles I ever built in the clouds," I replied. 
 
 " So would L You know what Wolfe said before his great 
 battle?" 
 
 " That he would rather have written Gray's Elegy than 
 take Quebec. Would you have said that before Stone 
 River ?" 
 
 He hesitated a moment, and then answered : " No ; for now 
 we need victories more than poems." 
 
 " As I came down, I saw the battle-field what were your 
 sensations when under fire so constantly all of that day ?" 
 
 " I had no sensations. I was absorbed in planning how 
 to beat them." 
 
 Just then an opening in the trees showed us several thousand 
 men under review, in a field off at the left. 
 
 "It is Negley's division. Let us ride over there, General," 
 said Garfield. 
 
 We turned our horses and galloped off through the forest. 
 The underbrush was cleared away, and a rich sward of " blue 
 grass" covered the ground, but every here and there a great 
 tree felled for the fortificationsj obstructed our way. One of 
 these trunks eighty feet long and nearly ten feet thick at the 
 base lay directly across our path. Gartield and I, who rode 
 on either side of the General, reined our horses around its two 
 ends, and the rest of the party divided and followed us, but 
 Rosecrans spurred " Toby" directly at the trunk, and cleared it 
 at a bound. 
 
 " Well done, General," I shouted ; " you fire straight at the 
 mark." 
 
 " It's the surest way to hit it," he replied, smiling. 
 
 Clearing a low fence into a cotton field, we soon " turned" a
 
 A DAT WITH ROSECRANS. 213 
 
 small hill, and were abreast of the division. As tho well-known 
 "gray" came in sight, the soldiers set up a loud shout, and un- 
 covering his head, the General rode down the lines. Halting 
 every now and then he spoke to the men. " You keep your- 
 self tidy, Patrick. You can fight," he said to one. " I kin 
 fight for ye, Giniral, be Jabers." "Leave out the hard words, 
 my man. Brave men never swear." Passing before a com- 
 pany of Tennesseans, he said : " You've had mountain air ; 
 there's not a pale face among you." " Ye've guv'nus exercise, 
 Gen'ral. Guv us more on it," was the answer. " I'll give you 
 enough never fear." To a mere boy, he said : " I saw you 
 at Stone River you fought like a man." " They've made a 
 man of me, sir," said the soldier, pointing to the stripes on his 
 arm. " I saw ye thar, Gen'ral," said another. " My old 
 'ooman prayed fur ye, an' thet's the how ye 'scaped." " Tell 
 her for me, God bless her," said Rosecrans as he rode on. 
 
 And so we went down the lines, the General halting every 
 few minutes to say some free word to the soldiers, and greeted, 
 at every step, with cheers and "God bless yous." That ride 
 showed me why his men worship him. 
 
 As we reined our horses again towards the woods, he said to 
 me : " Do you see that young man yonder ?" " That quiet, 
 modest looking Brigadier ?" I asked. "Yes. It's Carlin. At 
 Stone River he sat his horse as coolly as he does now." 
 
 At Sherridan's I saw Rosecrans unbent. The bow which is 
 always strung loses its power : so workers, such as he, wear out 
 by constant working. The hour of relaxation is the time to 
 learn any man, and then I tried to study him. Sherridan had 
 invented a game he called "Dutch Ten-Pins." On the lawn 
 in front of his quarters, between two immense elms, he had
 
 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 suspended a long rope, and to the end of it attached a 
 small cannon-ball. On the ground, midway between these 
 trees, was a square board which held the ten-pins. The game 
 lay in throwing the ball so that it would miss the pins in going 
 out, and strike them in coming back. To do this, a peculiar 
 twist had to be given to the rope by bending the wrist, and it 
 seemed almost impossible to avoid hitting the pins on the 
 direct throw. Three "throws" were "a game," and only 
 thirty " strokes" could be made. Sherridan, by much practice, 
 had become expert at the play, and could make, pretty regu- 
 larly, twenty " strokes," but a novice did well if he made ten. 
 He soon challenged Rosecrans, and the dozen officers with 
 him, to enter the lists. Sherridan opened the play, cleared 
 the board twice, and missed it altogether the third throw. 
 " Twenty," cried the " scorer," and another player took his 
 place. He did indifferently well. Others followed with more 
 or less success, though none came up to Sherridan's " score." 
 
 " Now for the General," shouted " the Major," laughing, as 
 Rosecrans took his place. " He'll score thirty, sure." 
 
 " Don't laugh till you win, my boy," answered the General, 
 with his peculiar smile. 
 
 Calculating deliberately the motion of the ball, he let it go. 
 Every pin fell, on the direct throw, and a general laugh fol- 
 lowed. Not at all disconcerted, he tried again and again, till 
 he had played three or four " games," with scarcely better suc- 
 cess. Amid the mock congratulations of the whole assemblage 
 he at last sat down, and Garfield entered the lists. " It's 
 nothing but mathematics," said Garfield ; " you only need an 
 eye and a hand," and carelessly throwing the ball, he cleared 
 the board and scored twenty-three !
 
 A DAY WITH KO8ECRAN8. 215 
 
 " You can't do that again." 
 
 " I'll try," answered the modest Brigadier, and he did do it, 
 several times in succession. 
 
 " I can do better than that,' 1 '' said Rosecrans, again taking 
 the ball. A shout of derision followed the boast, but he quietly 
 set himself to work, and, half a dozen times in succession, made 
 from twenty-five to thirty " strokes." As he resumed his seat, 
 I said to him : 
 
 " That leap over the tree, and the way you've won this game, 
 have shown me what made you conquer at Stone River." 
 
 " What was it?" he asked, smiling. 
 
 " Directness firing straight at the mark and a kind of per- 
 sistence which makes you hold on till you succeed." And 
 those two qualities, with untiring work, have made him the 
 great man and the great general that he is. 
 
 For hours after dinner, and far into the night, the General 
 was as intensely occupied as during the morning. Despatches 
 were read, letters dictated, orders given, visitors received, and 
 
 grave questions disposed of, with a celerity that taxed his aides 
 
 
 to the utmost, and made the head of a looker-on almost swim 
 
 with excitement. " Give me young men for work," he said, 
 glancing- at " the Major" his senior aide, Frank S. Bond, of 
 Cincinnati " these sandy-haired fellows, who can drive a quill 
 like lightning." 
 
 " But they soon wear out," I answered, " and even dark- 
 haired men couldn't long stand the work you give them." 
 
 " Well, they do well while they last, and you know we live 
 in deeds, not years." 
 
 At the battle of luka, an officer of General Ord's staff, seeing 
 a divisiqn of rebels about to flank one of our regiments, rode
 
 216 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 up and informed Rosecrans of the danger. " Ride on and 
 warn Stanley, at once," said the General. An acre on fire, and 
 showered with bullets, lay between them and the menaced 
 troops. The officer looked at it, and said : "General, I have a 
 wife and children." 
 
 " You knew that when you came here," said the General, 
 coolly. 
 
 " I'll go, sir," was the only answer. 
 
 " Stay a moment. We must make sure of this," and hastily 
 writing some despatches, the General called three of his order- 
 lies. Giving a despatch to each, he said to the officer : " Now 
 go." He started, and at intervals of about fifty yards, bearing 
 a similar message, the orderlies followed. The officer ran the 
 fiery gauntlet, and, his clothes pierced with bullets, and his 
 horse reeling from a mortal wound, reached Stanley, the 
 orderlies found their graves on that acre of fire ! 
 
 To that officer, Lieutenant Colonel Arthur C. Ducat, In- 
 spector-General of the Cumberland army, and General Thomas, 
 I was, about midnight of the day I am describing, illustrating 
 the superior advantages of slavery as a bleaching process, when 
 Rosecrans approached, and laying his hand on General Thomas's 
 chair, said : 
 
 " Speaking of white blacks, reminds me of two who came 
 within the lines a few weeks ago. They were as white as I am 
 a little boy and girl, belonging to ' General' Chambers, a rich 
 planter and a ' strong Union man,' living some twenty miles from 
 here. Chambers called on me the other day, and feeling it my 
 duty to be courteous to ' our friends,' I asked him to dinner. 
 Every moment I expected he would broach the subject of his 
 slaves, but he left without saying a word about them. How-
 
 A DAY WITH EOBEORANS. 217 
 
 ever, he came back in a few days. I invited him again to din- 
 ner, and he declined, but said : 
 
 " Gen'ral, some on my property has come inter yer lines. 
 I know'd they was har when I seed yer afore. I was telled 
 ye'd yered they wus my children, ye sees they's as white as I 
 is an' I felt sort o' delicate like 'bout axin' yer fur 'em till I 
 could show, fur sartin, they wasn't. They is my nevye's 
 yere's the papers ter prove it." 
 
 " I don't see what difference it makes whether they are your 
 children or your nephew's," I answered. " But I suppose 
 you've come to claim them ?" 
 
 " That is what 1'se come for, Gen'ral I s'pose ye'll guv 
 'em up?" 
 
 " Of course," I replied ; " we are not negro-stealers. Every 
 , ,man shall have his rights within my lines." 
 
 " I am obleeged ter ye much obleeged ter ye, Gen'ral," he 
 said, showing strong symptoms of hugging me. " I war telled 
 ye wus a blasted ab'lishioner, an' wudn't guv 'em up, an' I'm 
 right glad ye does, fur it'll do a heap uv good ; it'll cunciliate 
 the loyal peeple round yere, mightly. Whar is they, Gen'ral ?" 
 
 " I don't know Major Bond can tell you." 
 
 " Won't it 'quire an order frum ye ter git 'em, Gen'ral ?" 
 
 " Oh, no ; you ouly need to ask them to go slavery is so 
 benign a thing that even white children must love it." 
 
 " An' karn't I hev 'em 'less they'll go peacerbly," he ex- 
 claimed, in consternation. 
 
 " Of course not ; you must use no force. We neither steal 
 negroes nor catch them." 
 
 " With a big flea in his ear, he left, no doubt cursing me for 
 a ' blasted ab'lishioner.' " 
 10
 
 218 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 To appreciate this action, the reader needs to remember that 
 our Government was then pursuing the " conciliatory policy," and 
 that nearly every department commander was returning fugi- 
 tives. Rosecrans sent the children Xorth, and, I am told, is 
 now having them educated at his own expense. 
 
 The clock had struck one when I rose, and General Thomas 
 said to me : " Come to my quarters to-morrow ; I want to in- 
 troduce you to one or two of the prominent Union men of the 
 district." 
 
 I remained with Rosecrans nearly a month, and in that period 
 saw much of him, meeting him every day. During all of that 
 time, I saw nothing of the brandy-drinking or opium-eating 
 with which his enemies have charged him and I should have 
 seen it, had it existed. In all our intercourse, I found him as 
 earnest a patriot, as honest a man, as true and Christian a gentle- 
 man as, I think, ever lived ; and I should be false to my con- 
 victions of right if I omitted to say, that those who, at such a 
 time as this, have been instrumental in burying his great mili- 
 tary talents in a mere civil employment, have done immense 
 wrong to the country. It is not our most excellent President 
 who has done this. He, I know, thinks of Rosecrans as I do. 
 Nor was he removed because of the repulse at Chickamauga. 
 The Government has exonerated him from blame in that affair ; 
 and those best informed have told me that, had the information 
 on which he acted been correct, we should have lost Ten- 
 nessee and Kentucky, had he done differently from what he 
 did. Time is said to take its revenges ; it also bestows its re- 
 wards. It will reward Rosecrans, by placing his name among 
 those of the best and truest men in our history.
 
 A DAY WITH RO8ECKAN8. 219 
 
 CHAPTER XV1L 
 
 VIEWS OF SOUTHERN MEN. 
 
 AT General Thomas's quarters, on the following day, I niet 
 several leading men of the district, who had " suffered the loss 
 of all things" rather than deny the Union. One of them 
 Colonel Wisner, of the County of Bedford was the only mem- 
 ber of the Tennessee Legislature who, to the very end, voted 
 against the schemes of the secessionists. He had the moral 
 courage, at the time of the June election, to canvass his district 
 in the face of a thousand rebel bayonets. The soldiers often 
 attempted to break up the meetings, but the unarmed people 
 gathered around the stands, kept off the soldiery, and bade 
 him " go on." The result was, a large majority of the votes 
 of his county were cast against " separation." He was or- 
 dered away by the Confederate authorities, but refused to go, 
 and only went at last on being taken from his bed by a squad 
 of soldiers. He was bound to a horse he refused to mount, 
 or to keep mounted and driven in that plight within our 
 lines. 
 
 He said to me : " The Southern people are at heart loyal to 
 liberty. They think they are fighting for it. Disabuse them 
 of the error, and all of them will be Union men. Give me 
 free speech, and in six months I will revolutionize one-half of 
 this State. Bosson will do the other half." 
 
 " But the Emancipation proclamation must stand. Will the 
 masses come cordially back if the blacks are freed ?"
 
 220 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 " They will, unless you attempt to give the slaves suffrage. 
 If you do that, the poor whites will fight until not a man is 
 left. They think themselves superior they are superior to the 
 negroes, and they will never consent to blacks making laws 
 for whites." 
 
 " But the abolitionists," I said, laughing, " have hit upon a 
 plan for bleaching the blacks making good white men of 
 them." 
 
 " That is absurd. You know the black does not seek the 
 white, but the white the black. Free the negro, give him 
 control of his own person, and amalgamation will totally 
 cease." 
 
 " I think so ; and that, to me, is one of the strongest rea- 
 sons for abolishing slavery. But if the blacks are all emanci- 
 pated, what state of things will follow ?" 
 
 " There would be no change at first. The South needs 
 labor, and the blacks would give it. Gradually the more en- 
 terprising and ambitious would emigrate to some new territory, 
 and found a community of their own, like the Mormons. The 
 less enterprising would stay here, and finally die out." 
 
 " Why die out ?" 
 
 "Because they cannot compete with the white man.* 
 Remove the odium attached to white' labor abolishing 
 slavery will do it and you would call out the energies of 
 the poor whites. One of them would earn a dollar, where a 
 negro would earn fifty cents. The consequence would be, 
 
 * This is a new view for a Southern man. The slaveocracy has always 
 insisted that white labor cannot compete with black, in a hot climate. 
 Observation has satisfied me that the contrary is true. The severest 
 work at the South, ditching and clearing swamp lands, has always been 
 done by whites.
 
 VIEWS OF SOUTHERN MEN. 221 
 
 poverty and starvation for the negroes ; and those that stayed 
 here would in time die out." 
 
 " Some of our wisest statesmen advocate black-suffrage as a 
 means of insuring a Union strength at the South. What do 
 you think of it ?" 
 
 " That it would not be a strength, but a weakness. The 
 black are ignorant, docile, and accustomed to being led. Their 
 votes. would be controlled by a few demagogues, and all over 
 the South, you would have the state of things you now see in 
 
 New York city." 
 
 Another of these gentlemen Mr. Bosson, of White County, 
 who before the war was largely identified with the railway 
 interests of the State, and a prominent actor in its politics, gave 
 me so interesting an account of the rise of the secession move- 
 ment in Tennessee, that I am tempted to repeat it. His views 
 of the real feeling of the masses, and of what should be done 
 with them and their leaders, are entitled to great respect, for 
 he is largely experienced in public affairs, and thoroughly 
 acquainted with all classes of the Southern people. 
 
 "During the Presidential canvass of 1860," he said, "I 
 clearly saw that the purpose of the Secessionists was to pre- 
 cipitate the South into rebellion. I communicated my im- 
 pressions to our Bell and Everett elector, and advised him to 
 so conduct the discussion as to arouse the people to the coming 
 issue. The mouth of November came, and with it the action 
 of the South Carolina Legislature, initiating the Rebellion. 
 Our legislature was then in session, and under the guidance of 
 Governor Harris, and other leading advocates of Southern 
 rights, its proceedings assumed a direction that tended to 
 strengthen the purpose of the Secessionists. When I perceived
 
 222 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 this, with a view to awaken the people, and prepare them for 
 the great issue, I inaugurated a series of meetings in the 
 counties along the mountains. They were largely attended, 
 and the people seemed unanimous for the Union. 
 
 "On the third of January, 1861, the legislature reported and 
 passed a resolution authorizing a vote to be taken in the 
 month of February following. The issue : * For a Convention 
 or against it, 1 and, ' For delegates to the Convention.' 
 
 " The election was held, and resulted, throughout the State, in 
 a large majority against a convention, and a still larger major- 
 ity 65,000 for the Union candidates to the convention. 
 In the county of White where I resided out of sixteen 
 hundred votes, the secessionists polled only a hundred and 
 twenty-nine; and there, Judge Gardenhire and Colonel Colms, 
 both popular speakers, took the ' stump,' and spoke for Sep- 
 aration ; and hand-bills and circulars, breathing the bad spirit 
 of secession, were widely scattered. The people were rejoiced 
 at the result, and when I announced the vote at our precinct, 
 they unanimously resolved never to support a man for any 
 civil office who that day had voted for a disunion candidate. 
 The Secessionists were rebuked, and, receding from the high 
 ground they had taken, proposed ' Neutrality' as the true 
 policy. 
 
 "Fort Sumter surrendered, and the call for seventy-five 
 thousand men gave encouragement to the leading disunionists. 
 They at once sounded the alarm that the Government meant to 
 coerce the South. The Legislature was immediately convened, 
 and on the recommendation of Governor Harris, it resolved to 
 place the forces of the. State on a war footing, authorized 
 the raising of volunteers for State defence, and made large
 
 VIEWS OF SOUTHEKN MKN. 223 
 
 appropriations for tliat purpose. It also matured a plan, and 
 passed a law for an election in the following June, to vote 
 Separation or no Separation,' ' Representation or no Repre- 
 sentation.' 
 
 " Then, all over the State, allured by the novelty of the enter- 
 prise, the young men responded to the heated declamation of 
 the secession speakers, and with fife and drum, the demagogues 
 accomplished what they could not have done with argument. 
 No speaker of loyal proclivities was allowed to participate in 
 the discussions. At each meeting squads of armed volun- 
 teers, with drums beating and flags flying, escorted the speakers 
 and overawed the loyal voters. 
 
 " Election day the 8th of June arrived, and threats were 
 widely made that no blacj^ republican would be permitted to 
 approach the polls. I regarded the action of the Legislature 
 as contrary to the Constitution, but I resolved to vote. On the 
 morning of the election, with four gentlemen who thought as 
 I did, I went to the precinct. Soldiers were within and 
 around the building, and no Union man had dared to enter ; 
 but we quietly elbowed our way through the crowd, wrote our 
 ballots in the sight of the multitude, and gave our votes to the 
 officer. A profound silence prevailed as our votes were read, 
 and when we turned and looked on the secession crew, not a 
 word was spoken, not a gesture made. They were cowed by 
 five honest men ! On my return, the meeting with my wife 
 and children was an affecting one. They had not expected to 
 see me again alive. 
 
 " The vote in the State at the February election was 155,000, 
 and the Union majority 65,000. In June, the total vote was 
 only 115,000, and the separation and representation majority
 
 224 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 about 36,000. The vote fell short of the vote in February 
 40,000. 
 
 " Timidity overcame loyal men, and those disposed to be loyal, 
 and they stayed at home ; besides, all were told that if they sup- 
 ported ' No Separation,' they would vote a halter to the necks 
 of their own and their neighbors' sons, who had volunteered. 
 Could we have had free speech, we might have rallied the 
 moral strength of the loyal, and defeated ' Separation ;' but 
 our leaders had deserted the Union : Brown, Bell, Ewing, 
 and others were either committed to the rebel enterprise, or 
 alarmed into acquiescence by the merely apparent popularity 
 of the secession movement. The people did not want separ- 
 ation. They were content with their political condition ; but, 
 abandoned by their leaders, appeal^Jl to by a variety of bad in- 
 fluences, and surrounded by an armed mob headed by the 
 Governor of the State they yielded to the sweeping storm. 
 Wherever there was free discussion, the Union was sustained. 
 In Bedford County, where Colonels Wisner and Cooper boldly 
 discussed the question, the people voted against separation. 
 And so it was in that portion of Smith County which was 
 canvassed by Dr. Gordon and W. B. Stokes ; and so, if we 
 could have had free speech, would it have been all over the 
 State. The action of East Tennessee proves this. 
 
 "The first Wednesday in August was our Gubernatorial 
 election. The aggregate vote then was 1 1 6,000 Harris beat- 
 ing Polk 33,000, and the ballots at this election fell short o 
 February, 39,000 votes. 
 
 " Then I saw the storm that was coming, and remained at my 
 home in White County, to gather up my scattered means, and 
 prepare for the inevitable and terrible future. General Buell
 
 VIEW8 OF SOUTHERN MEN. 225 
 
 reached Nashville in May, 1862. As soon as I heard of it I 
 passed the rebel pickets in the night, to look once more on the 
 glorious flag of my country. I stayed at Nashville till Buell 
 advanced to the Tennessee River, and then returned home, de- 
 fying the threats of my rebel neighbors. In July, Forrest 
 encamped on my plantation, and there planned the capture of 
 Murfreesboro. He returned there with his prisoners and plun- 
 der, cannons, guns, horses and mules, and left his sick at 
 my house. I was known to him and his officers as a Union 
 man, but they treated me with respect. I showed them the 
 commission of my father, signed by John Hancock, and they 
 admitted I could not be false to his principles. I found many 
 Union men in the rebel regiments. They would come to me 
 and say they loved me, because I dared to stand up for the old 
 flag. 
 
 "Forrest took my stock, corn, hay, and oats, and made requi- 
 sition on me for bread and meat, offering pay in Confederate 
 money. I refused to take it, telling him it was tainted with 
 treason. I then became the object of persecution. My letters 
 had been opened and examined long before ; but then I was 
 Avaited on by a self-constituted committee, who told me they 
 were my friends, and used many arguments to make me a rebel. 
 The South, they said, was sure to come gloriously out of the 
 contest, when Tennessee and the border States would be 
 the New England of the Confederacy, and my large water- 
 power would become immensely valuable. I answered that 
 my loyalty was not in the market, and consequently could not 
 be bought. This exasperated them, and they said I must im- 
 mediately leave the county that if I went at once, no personal 
 hurra should come to me. T replied, that I shon.u leave when 
 10*
 
 226 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 convenient not before ; that the property about me was my 
 own earned by my own industry ; but I would abandon it all 
 rather than abandon the Union. Then they told me that they 
 would not be responsible for my personal safety, and left I 
 telling them, as they went away, that though my hair was 
 gray, I could defend myself.* 
 
 "Rebel soldiers, in citizens' clothes, then waylaid and at- 
 tempted to shoot me, and, at last, yielding to the entreaties of 
 my wife f I fled at night, and joined our good General (Thomas, 
 who was then present) at McMinnville. I went with him to 
 Nashville, and remained there till after the battle of Stone 
 River, when I joined him again at Murfreesboro. My wife 
 said to me, when I left her : ' I have nothing to give to the 
 Union but you. I give you, and God will accept the sacrifice' 
 (and here the cool, collected man paused, and while every 
 one was silent, wept). She and the children are still 
 within the Rebel lines. My plantation and mills are occupied 
 by rebel soldiers, and I have turned my back upon a home 
 that, before the rebellion, was one of peace and plenty and I 
 say to you, Sir, the rebels are more wicked, more malicious, 
 and more dangerous than any foreign enemy could be. We 
 must exterminate the leaders wholly. The poor, simple people 
 have been misled : and, mortified and humiliated, they would, 
 the most of them, now come back to their allegiance, and be- 
 come again good citizens. We must deal with them gently, 
 but the leaders every man who has taken a prominent part in 
 promoting the rebellion must be expatriated placed where he 
 
 * This is the language of every Southern Union man. If the reader 
 would have his Unionism invigorated, he should make the acquaintance 
 of some ot uiese men.
 
 VIEWS OF SOUTHERN MEN. 227 
 
 can no longer deceive the people. The people of Tennessee 
 never desired the destruction of the National Government. 
 They did not appreciate its blessings till they lost them ; but 
 now, in mortification and astonishment, they ^iave awakened to 
 its blessings, and see the ruin they have caused. Remove the 
 leaders, and the masses will joyfully return to obedience. I 
 hold the perpetuation of the Union above all other considera- 
 tions. I have sacrificed every thing for it, and I have no ill-will 
 against those who would destroy it, but I counsel the removal 
 of every impediment that stands in the way of re-establishing its 
 power and authority. It cannot be expected that all the 
 Union men in the slave States will approve of the destruction 
 of slavery but the number who will not is small. It must be 
 destroyed. 
 
 " / say, if slavery, property, or persons stand in the way of 
 restoring the Union, remove them all. Save the life of the 
 Nation. Preserve that, whatever else is lost. 
 
 " To a careful observer, who has resided long in the South, 
 the truth is apparent that slavery has moulded all its manners, 
 customs, and interests, its social, moral, and religious institutions. 
 Our people are not a reading people ; few books or newspapers 
 are seen among them, and their educational interests have been 
 shamefully neglected ; therefore, the non-slaveholders have 
 yielded a ready obedience to the slaveholders, who have con- 
 trolled all legislative action. They have controlled every thing, 
 and therefore we must crush them. Crush them as well as 
 slavery, for until we do that, we can have no lasting peace." 
 
 These are the words of a loyal Southerner. I have met 
 many of them, but I never met one who did not feel and talk 
 as he did. They advocate no halfway measures : they would
 
 228 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 strike at the root of the tree. They know that this is a life and 
 death struggle between two great principles ; between Democra- 
 cy and Aristocracy ; between a Republic and a Despotism ; and 
 that one or the other must perish. Would to God that the 
 loyal men of the North realized this as they do. If they did, 
 Copperheads and peace-men would now be things of history.
 
 A PROJECTED INSURRECTION. 229 
 
 CHAPTER XVIIL 
 
 A PROJECTED INSURRECTION. 
 
 I PASSED, as I have said, several weeks at Murfreesboro, and 
 I could fill a volume with what I saw and heard, but the fear 
 of compromising public interests holds my pen. Some day, 
 when " this cruel war is over," I may be at liberty to write 
 what I know. Then, if not before, the American people 
 will say to Kosecrans : " Well done, good and faithful ser- 
 vant." 
 
 But now, when the rebels are raising the black flag, and 
 butchering our troops, black and white, in a spirit unknown 
 to even savage warfare, there is one thing which should be 
 told. 
 
 One day, as I was sitting alone with Rosecrans, an aide 
 handed him a letter. He opened it, ceased doing half a dozen 
 other things, and became at once absorbed in its contents. 
 He re-read it, and then, handing it to me, said : " Read that. 
 Tell me what you think of it." I read it. Its outside indi- 
 cated it had come from " over Jordan," and had " a hard road to 
 travel," but its inside startled me. It was written in a round, 
 unpractised hand, but though badly spelled, showed its author 
 familiar with good Southern English. Its date was May 18th, 
 1863, and it began thus: 
 
 " GENERAL : A plan has been adopted for a simultaneous 
 movement or rising to sever the rebel communications through-
 
 230 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 out the whole South, which is now disclosed to some general 
 in each military department in the Secesh States, in order that 
 they may act in concert, and thus insure us success. 
 
 " The plan is for the blacks to make a concerted and simul- 
 taneous rising, on the night of the first of August next, over 
 the whole States in rebellion. To arm themselves with any and 
 every kind of weapon that may come to hand, and commence 
 operations by burning all railroad and county bridges, tear- 
 ing up all railroad tracks, and cutting and destroying telegraph 
 wires, and when this is done take to the woods, the swamps, 
 or the mountains, whence they may emerge, as occasions may 
 offer, for provisions or for further depredations. No blood is 
 to be shed except in self-defence. 
 
 " The corn will be in roasting ear about the first of August, 
 and upon this, and by foraging on the farms at night, we can 
 subsist. Concerted movement at the time named would be suc- 
 cessful, and the rebellion be brought suddenly to an end." 
 
 The letter went on with some details which I cannot repeat, 
 and ended thus : 
 
 " The plan will be simultaneous over the whole South, and 
 yet few of all engaged will know its whole extent. Please 
 write ' 1' and ' approved,' and send by the bearer, that we 
 may know you are with us. 
 
 " Be assured, General, that a copy of this letter has been sent 
 to every military department in the rebel States, that the time 
 of the movement may thus be general over the entire South." 
 
 I was re-reading the letter when the General again said: 
 " What do you think of it ?" 
 
 " It would end the rebellion. It taps the great negro organ- 
 ization, of which I speak in ' Among the Pines,' and, co-
 
 A PROJECTED INSURRECTION. ' 231 
 
 operated with by our forces, would certainly succeed, but the 
 South would run with blood." 
 
 " Innocent blood ! Women and children !" 
 
 " Yes, women and children. If you let the blacks loose, 
 they will rush into carnage like horses into a burning barn. 
 St. Domingo will be multiplied by a million." 
 
 " But he says no blood is to be shed except in self-defence." 
 
 " He says so, and the leaders may mean so, but they cannot 
 restrain the rabble. Every slave has some real or fancied 
 wrong, and he would take such a time to avenge it." 
 
 " Well, I must talk with Garfield. Come, go with me." 
 
 We crossed the street to Garfield's lodgings, and found him 
 bolstered up in bed, quite sick of a fever. The General sat 
 down at the foot of his bed, and handed him the letter. Garfield 
 read it over carefully, and then laying it down, said : 
 
 " It will never do, General. We don't want to whip by such 
 means. If the slaves, of their own accord, rise and assert their 
 original right to themselves, that will be their own affair ; but 
 we can have no complicity with them without outraging the 
 moral sense of the civilized world." 
 
 " I knew you'd say so ; but he speaks of other department 
 commanders may they not come into it?" 
 
 " Yes, they may, and that should be looked to. Send this 
 letter to , and let him head off ' the movement.' " 
 
 It v ; as not thought prudent to intrust the letter to the 
 mails ; nor with the railway infested with guerillas, was it a safe 
 document to carry about the person. A short shrift and a long 
 rope might have been the consequence of its being found on 
 a traveller. So, ripping open the top of my boot, I stowed it 
 snugly away in the lining, and took it North. On
 
 232 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 the 4th of June following, Garfield wrote me that he had just 
 heard from the writer of the letter ; that five ont of our nine 
 department commanders had come into the project, and, sub- 
 sequently, that another general had also promised it his sup- 
 port. 
 
 But I can say no more. All the world knows that the insur- 
 rection did not take place. The outbreaks in September, 
 among the blacks of Georgia and Alabama, were only parts 
 of the' plan, the work of subordinate leaders, who, maddened 
 at the miscarriage of the grand scheme, determined to carry out 
 . their own share of the programme at all hazards. It was a 
 gigantic project, and the trains were all laid, the matches all 
 lighted, and two centuries of cruel wrong were about to be 
 avenged in a night, when a white man said to the negro : " You 
 will slaughter friends and enemies. You will wade knee deep 
 in innocent blood ; God cannot be with you in midnight 
 massacre!" A white man said that, and the uplifted torch fell 
 from the negro's hand ; and saying : " I will 'bide iny time ; I 
 will leave vengeance to God," he went back to his toil and his 
 stripes. 
 
 The time has not come to write the history of this, and I 
 have said what I have, only to show that while Souther .1 men 
 were starving our prisoners, butchering our wounded, and dese- 
 crating our dead, we were supplicating the destroying angel to 
 pass over their homes, and save their wives and little ones from 
 a swift destruction. In the day when "He maketh inquisition 
 for blood," on whose garments, my Southern brother, think you, 
 He will find the stain ?
 
 COLONEL JAMES F. JAQUESS. 233 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 COLONEL JAMES F. JAQUESS. 
 
 ONE morning, not many days after the events recorded in the 
 last chapter, General Rosecrans handed me another letter, say- 
 ing, as he did so, " Here is an application from one of my 
 officers for a furlough. It explains itself. I have to be at the 
 front all day, and I wish you would stay and see him. If you 
 think well of it, I will telegraph the Department for the fur- 
 lough. The Colonel was a prominent member of the Western 
 Methodist Church, and, though a clergyman, is one of my best 
 and bravest officers. You will be glad of his acquaintance." 
 
 I cheerfully assented to the request, and an orderly was at 
 once dispatched to his camp for the officer. Meanwhile, I read 
 the application. It was as follows : 
 
 "HEAD-QUARTERS, 7 3D REGIMENT ILLINOIS INFANTRY, 
 
 CAMP NEAR MURFREKSBORO, 19TH MAY, 1863. 
 
 " GENERAL : I feel it to be my duty to lay before you the 
 following facts, considerations, and proposition j 
 
 " Situated as we are, it is no matter of astonishment that the 
 great eye of the world is intently fixed upon us. The truth is, 
 we are intrusted with the dearest interests of humanity, with 
 the solution of the grandest problem that ever inspired the 
 hopes or engaged the attention of man. It is the problem of 
 his capacity for self-government. And, if we fail, which we 
 shall do most signally if we do not suppress this rebellion,
 
 234: DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 man's emancipation from tyranny and oppression, and human 
 liberty and self-government, are failures. 
 
 "The question that Heaven has called us to decide in blood, 
 with the weapons of war, and amid the slaughter of the battle- 
 field, is not one of a political character only. It is not simply 
 a question of latitude and longitude ; it is, whether we are a 
 Christian or a heathen people. 
 
 " On both sides of Mason and Dixon's line we claim to he 
 Christian men. We speak the same language, read the same 
 Bible, and worship God with the same forms and ceremonies. 
 We appoint days of fasting and prayer, and observe them with 
 a zeal worthy of a Christian people, and, independently of 
 man's design, these appointments often fall on the same day?, 
 North and South. Resolving to ' trust in God, but keep our 
 powder dry,' we have risen up from our devotions, grasped 
 again the weapons of death, and rushed into the thickest of the 
 fight, without stopping to reflect that God has other means than 
 the sword to subdue his enemies. 
 
 " It is well known, that before the Southern States seceded, 
 the Methodist Church in the United States was separated on 
 the very questions which have since divided the nation. It is 
 also known that 'the Methodist Episcopal Church, South,' was 
 a leading element in the rebellion, and has been a prominent 
 power in the prosecution of the war. 
 
 " A considerable part of the territory occupied by ' the 
 Methodist Episcopal Church, South,' at the time of the separa- 
 tion, and up to a recent date, is now in possession of our armies. 
 This has brought a large number of the ministers and people of 
 that communjon within our lines. Some of these persons were 
 prominent in the movement that separated the Church, and
 
 COLONEL JAMES F. JAQUE88. 235 
 
 were most bittei and uncompromising on the questions of differ- 
 ence. 
 
 " From these persons I have learned personally the following 
 facts, viz. : That they consider the rebellion has destroyed the 
 ' Methodist Church, South ;' that it has virtually abolished 
 slavery, and obliterated the other prominent questions of differ- 
 ence ; that they are sincerely desirous of returning to the ' Old 
 Church ;' and that their brethren within the rebel lines are most 
 heartily tired of the rebellion, and most ardently desire peace and 
 the privilege of returning to their allegiance to Church and State, 
 and will do so whenever they are assured of amnesty for the past. 
 
 " My attention has been called to these facts, and to others of a 
 like character, frequently of late ; and from these considerations 
 though not from these only, but because God has laid the 
 duty upon me I would submit to the proper authorities the 
 following proposition, viz. : To go into the Southern Confederacy, 
 and return within ninety days, with proposals of peace that 
 will be acceptable to our Government. 
 
 " I shall propose no compromise with traitors, but their im- 
 mediate return to their allegiance to God and their country. It 
 is no part of my business to discuss the probability or the pos- 
 sibility of my accomplishing this work. I propose to do it in 
 the name of the Lord, and to leave results with Him. 
 
 " If He puts it into the hearts of my superiors to allow me 
 to go, I shall be thankful; if not, I have discharged my duty. 
 
 " Your obedient servant, 
 "(Signed) JAMES F. JAQUESS, 
 
 " Col. Comd'g 73rf Retft HI. Infty. 
 " To Brig.-General GARFIELD, Chief of Staf, 
 
 " Department of the Cumberland"
 
 236 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 A little more than an hour after the departure of the orderly, 
 an erect, spare man, in the undress uniform of a colonel of 
 infantry, entered the inner room of the General's quarters, where 
 [ was seated. He seemed rather more than forty, and wag a 
 little above the medium height, with gray hair and beard, a 
 high, broad, open forehead, and a thin, marked face, expressing 
 grertt earnestness, strength, and benignity of character. He 
 came directly up to me, and, bowing rather stiffly, said : 
 
 " Is this Mr. Kirke ?" 
 
 " That is a name I sometimes go by. You are Colonel Ja- 
 quess. I am very glad to meet you," and I took his hand very 
 cordially. 
 
 " I am very glad to meet you," he replied, taking my hand, 
 and the stiffness disappearing from his manner ; " I ffiel that I 
 know you. My little boy, only this morning, was speaking of 
 you. We were riding through a piece of woods, when he said 
 to me : ' Father, don't this remind you of "Among the Pines ?" ' 
 He has the story all by heart." * 
 
 Was not that fame ? To be talked of by a Western boy in 
 the wilds of Tennessee! Reader, I have my " weaknesses," as 
 well as yourself. One of them was touched then I confess it. 
 The Colonel must have observed it, when I replied : 
 
 " You gratify me. And you've brought your little boy out 
 here to see the South as it is ?" 
 
 " Yes, to see the reality of slavery. I want him to hate it 
 as I do. But the General has sent me word he has referred my 
 application to you." 
 
 " He has asked me to hear what you have to say, and you 
 know he is very busy." 
 
 He then explained at some length, the objects he had in
 
 COLONEL JAMES F. JAQUESS. 237 
 
 view in his proposed visit among the Rebels. He had been, it 
 appeared, for many years a prominent clergyman of the Western 
 Methodist Church, and in friendly and familiar intercourse with 
 the leading divines of that communion in the South. He was 
 a member of the Nashville Convention, which divided that 
 denomination into the " Church North" and the " Church 
 South," and there did all in his power to defeat that unfortu- 
 nate measure, which, undoubtedly, was the entering-wedge that 
 rent the Union. On the breaking out of the war, he resigned 
 the Presidency of Quincy College leaving home, ease, and 
 honors to accept the chaplaincy of the Sixth Illinois Cavalry. 
 After the battle of Pittsburg Landing, for brilliant services in 
 that engagement this is not his own account of himself he 
 was solicited by Governor Yates to raise and take command of 
 a regiment. After repeated and urgent entreaty from the Gov- 
 ernor, he consented to do so, and the result was, that within 
 three weeks the Seventy-third Illinois Volunteers, known as the 
 " Preachers' Regiment" nearly every officer in it being a cler- 
 gyman was in the field. With this regiment he had served 
 throughout the campaigns in Kentucky and Tennessee, and 
 during that service had met many of his most active and zeal- 
 ous opponents in the Nashville Convention. Without excep- 
 tion, they all had told him they regarded slavery the sole 
 cause of their schism as virtually abolished, and had expressed 
 a wish to come back to the Church and the Union. Through 
 them he had corresponded with a number of leading divines 
 within the rebel lines, and they, too, had said they desired to 
 return to their allegiance to the Church and the country. He 
 thought the Methodist people of the South sympathized in 
 this with their leaders, and he added :
 
 233 DOWN IN TENNESSEE 
 
 " I want to go to them to offer them the olive-branch to 
 te!l them, in the name of God and the country, that they wil! 
 be welcome back." 
 
 " The Methodist element, I know, Colonel," I replied, " is a 
 strong element at the South ; but I fear the peace part of it is 
 not strong enough to control the politicians. They, if I know 
 them, care little about church or country. They have other 
 views than submission. They mean to establish an independent 
 government, at all hazards.' 1 '' 
 
 " I don't know what their views are. It is not my business 
 to ask. I feel that God has laid upon me the duty to go to 
 them, and go I must, unless my superiors forbid it." 
 
 " But how will you go ? The Government, I feel sure, will give 
 you neither authority nor protection. How, then, will you go ?" 
 
 " Openly ; in my uniform ; as the messenger of God." 
 
 " I fear the rebels, like the people of old, will not recognize 
 the Lord's messenger. They'll shoot or hang you as a spy./ 
 
 " It is not for me to ask what they will do ; I have only to go." 
 
 "Well, I'll report what you say to the General, but I must 
 be frank with you : if he asks my opinion, I shall advise him 
 not to apply for the furlough. I have heard of you before, and 
 your life, in my judgment, is altogether too valuable to be 
 wasted on such an embassy." 
 
 " That is not for you to judge. But I want more than a fur- 
 lough ; I want an interview with Mr. Lincoln, to learn the terms 
 on which lie will give amnesty to the Rebels. You will say 
 this to the General ?" 
 
 " Yes ; and, as I told you, advise him to do nothing about it." 
 
 At this the Colonel laughed, good-hum oredly. 
 
 "What amuses you?" I asked, a little annoyed.
 
 COLONEL JAMES F. JAQUESS. 239 
 
 " I was only thinking how little we know what we will do. 
 Now, I shall not only go, but yon will help me." 
 
 " How do you know that ?" 
 
 " You'll think me superstitious if I tell you." 
 
 " Not till I hear you." 
 
 " Well ; when I called on General Garfield, yesterday, and 
 opened my project to him, he told me to put it in black and 
 white, and he would submit it to the General. I went back to 
 camp, and did so wrote the letter you have in your hand. I 
 had thought of this for several months, but, until I spoke to 
 General Garfield, had said nothing to any one about it. This 
 morning, however, just after sunrise, it occurred to me to talk 
 it over with my Chaplain, who is iny intimate friend. Taking 
 the letter with me, I went to his tent. He was just coming ou* 
 of it ; and he said, as he saw me : 
 
 " ' Ah, Colonel, I was about to go and see you. I had a 
 strange dream about you last night.' 
 
 " ' Did you ? What was it f 
 
 " ' I dreamed that you were in a small room with Jeff. 
 Davis and two other gentlemen. I couldn't hear what was said, but 
 you all seemed in very earnest conversation. What did it mean?' 
 
 " I then told him of my intention to visit Mr. Davis, and read 
 him my letter. We both thought it very singular. About an 
 hour afterwards, as we were riding in the woods, my little son 
 mentioned your name. At once it occurred to me that you 
 were here I did not know you were and here to help me. 
 Now, I have no faith in dreams I believe God has ' sealed up 
 the vision and the prophecy,' but the impression is strong upon 
 me stronger than my reason, I cannot shake it off that I 
 shall see Jeff. Davis, and you will help me."
 
 24:0 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 " Well, I may. As you say, we cannot tell what we may 
 do." 
 
 1 I kept my word with him ; that is, I reported the interview to 
 General Rosecrans, and recommended that he should do noth- 
 ing about it. 
 
 " Why not " asked the General. 
 
 " Because he could accomplish nothing, and would throw hia 
 life away." 
 
 " I know, if he talks peace to the people the leaders will hang 
 him ; but he'll not do that. He'll go to the leaders themselves. 
 The terras he will offer may not be accepted, but it will 
 strengthen our moral position to offer them. It will show the 
 world that we do not seek to subjugate the South. As to his life 
 he takes the right view about that. He considers it already 
 given to the country. If you had seen him at Stone River, 
 you'd think so. He is a hero John Brown and the Chevalier 
 Bayard rolled into one, and endowed with common sense, and 
 a knowledge of Greek, Latin, and the mathematics." 
 
 That evening the General sent a telegram to Washington, 
 stating the Colonel's objects, and asking for him a four months' 
 furlough, and an interview with the President. Answer came 
 in the morning, declining the requests, but asking a fuller 
 explanation of Colonel Jaquess's purposes, by mail. The mes- 
 sage was sent out to the Colonel's camp, and in a few hours he 
 appeared at head-quarters. I happened to be with the Gen- 
 eral at the time. He was as busy as usual, but, as Jaquesa 
 came in, looked up, and said : 
 
 " Well, Colonel, you've got your sentence." 
 
 "I don't think so, General. I never give up with one 
 trial"
 
 COLONEL JAMES F. JAQUE88. 241 
 
 " That's right ; but what's to be done now I" 
 
 "Try again. Mr. must go to Washington. I've 
 
 known Mr. Lincoln twenty years, but I might write him forty 
 letters, and accomplish nothing. Writing won't do it Mr. 
 must go." 
 
 This was spoken with such inimitable coolness, that I burst 
 into a hearty laugh. 
 
 "Yes," said the General, also laughing; "that's it. You 
 must go. You've been talking of going every day for a week 
 now you must go, and take Washington on your way. I've 
 some other business I want attended to ; and you will do it to 
 oblige me." 
 
 " Well, to oblige you, I will." And thus so much of the 
 Colonel's presentiments were realized. About the rest, the 
 reader will learn before this book is ended. 
 
 I was to start the next afternoon, and in the morning Jaquess 
 came into town to bid me good-by. As we parted, he toojfc 
 my hand, and said to me : 
 
 " I know I shall go on this mission, but whether I shall 
 return or not, is uncertain. But if I do not if I go to the 
 other side of Jordan before you, be sure I shall be the first man 
 to take you by the hand when you get there." 
 
 This sentence displays the whole character of the man. He 
 "walks by faith, not by sight." To him the curtain which 
 hides the other life from ours is already lifted the two worlds 
 are already one. 
 
 A few days thereafter, with a bundle of " dispatches" in my 
 pocket, I landed in Washington. Among these " dispatches" 
 was one, of which the following is a copy : 
 11
 
 242 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 "HEAD-QUARTERS, DEPARTMENT OP THE CUMBERLAND, 
 
 " MUKFREESBORO, TENN., May 21, 1863. 
 
 " To His Excellency, 
 
 "THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES: 
 
 "The Rev. Dr. Jaquess, Colonel commanding the 73d Illinois, 
 a man of character, has submitted to me a letter proposing 
 a personal mission to the South. After maturely weighing his 
 plan, and considering well his character, I am decidedly of 
 opinion that the public interests will be promoted by permitting 
 him to go as he proposes. 
 
 "I do not anticipate the results that he seems to expect, but 
 believe that a moral force will be generated by his mission, 
 that will more than compensate us for his temporary absence 
 from his regiment. 
 
 " His letter is herein enclosed, and the bearer of this, Mr. 
 , can fully explain Colonel Jaquess's plans and purposes. 
 
 "Very respectfully, 
 "W. S. ROSECRANS, Major-General" 
 
 Enclosing this and the other papers in an envelope, I sent 
 them, with a note, asking when I could have a private inter- 
 view with the President, to the White House. 
 
 " Come at half-past seven this evening, and I'll be glad to see 
 you," was the answer. ; 
 
 I went at the appointed time, and my friend, Mr. Nicolay 
 said to me : 
 
 " Mr. Lincoln is expecting you, but, just now, he's engaged 
 with Reverdy Johnson. Take a scat in my room, and he'll call 
 you when he's ready." 
 
 I did as I was bidden, and in about half an hour, the homelv, 
 humane face, with which everybody is familiar, looked in at
 
 COLONEL JAMES F. JAQITE?S. 243 
 
 the door, and a kind, benevolent voice said to me : " Sorry to 
 have kept you waiting. Come in. Do you know, I can't talk 
 with you about that Jaquess matter V 
 
 " Why not, Sir?" I asked, following him into the room. 
 
 " Because I happen to be President of the United States. 
 We can make no overtures to the Rebels. If they want peace, 
 all they have to do is to lay down their arms. But never mind 
 about that; you've been to Tennessee, and I want to see you. 
 So sit down, and tell me all you know, it won't take you 
 long." 
 
 It did take me three whole hours ; and, while I told it, I 
 took advantage of my position as one of the " sovereigns'" to 
 find a little fault with the War Department. Mr. Lincoln 
 heard me patiently, parrying my thrusts with a smile or a 
 humorous story, and, when I concluded, said : " Well, it's lucky 
 that you're ' one of the people.' You escape all this." 
 
 " I know I do ; and that reminds me I received a letter this 
 morning, which I want to read to you. It's from a young 
 woman you've heard of. Long ago she gave herself to the 
 Lord, and that, you know, means the country ; so, she's a right 
 to speak." ' 
 
 Then I read the letter. It was as follows : 
 
 " You write that you are going to Washington, so, I know 
 you'll see ' Old Abe.' Now, don't you find any fault with him. 
 I know your impatient disposition I know you think he ought 
 to have done a good deal more than he has done. But, remem- 
 ber, that he has had an untried way, difficulties all about him, 
 conservatives advising one thing, radicals another, and all 
 deceiving him. So, don't you find fault with him, but bid him 
 'God speed.' Tell him that all good men and women, every-
 
 244 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 where, are with him that they pray for him, and bless him 
 for what he has done, and will yet do. One word, from a man 
 he knows has nothing to ask for, may cheer him cheer him 
 more than you know and don't you fail to say it. As you 
 love truth and God, say it, for it is true, and you ought to 
 say it." 
 
 It would not be true if I said there was " a tear in his eye" 
 when I read this. There was not. He is not " given to weep- 
 ing," but his voice had a mellower, softer tone, as he asked: 
 
 " Who is she ?" 
 
 I told him. 
 
 " Tell her," he said, " that I thank her that I hope God 
 will bless her." 
 
 That was a year ago ; but what that young woman then said 
 might as well might better be said now by every man and 
 woman in the country. 
 
 As I rose to go, he asked me : 
 
 " When do you go home ?" 
 
 " In the morning." 
 
 " Can't you stay another day, and come to see me to-morrow 
 evening ? I want to think more of that Jaquess matter." 
 
 " Yes, Sir, I'll do so," and on the following evening I called 
 on him again. 
 
 Grant had then " watered his horse in the Mississippi." 
 Vicksburg was beleaguered, but Pendleton was inside of it 
 with twenty-five thousand men, and Johnston outside of it with 
 thirty thousand. Grant had only thirty thousand. Re-enforce- 
 ments had not then reached him. Might he not be crushed 
 before they arrived ? 
 
 The President was very anxious. He showed none of his
 
 COLONEL JAMES F. JAQUESS. 245 
 
 usual humor and vivacity. Dispatch after dispatch came in 
 from the War Department, and he opened them, glanced at 
 their signatures, and then, laying them down unread, said : 
 " Only from Hooker ;" or, " Only from Burnside ;" or, " Only 
 from Rosecrans. Nothing from Grant yet ! Why don't we 
 hear from Grant ?" 
 
 Tf the life of his own son had been quivering in the balance 
 at Vicksburg, he could not have shown more anxiety. I had 
 not voted for him. I had not admired or even supported him ; 
 bat that night I regretted that I had not, for what I saw satis- 
 fied me that there is not a drop in Abraham Lincoln'* veins 
 that does not beat for his country. 
 
 It was hard to get him to the subject, but at last I did do it ; 
 and then he told toe, in a clear, direct way, the terms he would 
 give the Rebels. A portion of these terms have since been in- 
 cluded in the Amnesty Proclamation ; the rest I do not feel at 
 liberty to make public. They are all, however, embodied in a 
 few of his words : 
 
 " The country will do every thing for safety nothing for re- 
 venge." 
 
 If Washington ever uttered a grander, or a nobler sentence 
 than that, I have not read it. 
 
 Finally, he said : 
 
 " You can write what I say to General Rosecrans, and he can 
 communicate as much of it as he thinks best to Colonel 
 Jaquess ; but the Colonel must not understand that he has these 
 terms from me. We want peace, but we can make no over- 
 tures to the Rebels. They already know that the country 
 would welcome them back, and treat them generously and 
 magnanimously."
 
 246 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 It was nearly twelve o'clock when I rose to go. As I did so, , 
 he said : 
 
 " Don't go yet. I shall stay here until I get something from 
 Grant !" 
 
 The next morning I wrote to Rosecrans, and, within ten days, 
 Colonel Jaquess started for the South. At Baltimore he re- 
 ported to General Schenck, who forwarded him on to Fortress 
 Monroe. Arriving there he explained his business to General 
 Dix, and he, after some delay, allowed him to smuggle himself 
 on board a flag-of-truce boat going to the Rebel lines. He was 
 in his uniform, but the Rebel officer who met our flag said to him : 
 
 " Go where you please, and stay as long as you like." 
 
 Any one can see the great risk he ran. He had no creden- 
 tials ; nothing to show who he was, or why he came ; and there 
 were ten chances to one that he would be taken as a spy. But 
 what was that to him ? He was about his MASTER'S work, and 
 his trust in the MASTER, which " whoever runs may read " in 
 his face, carried him safely through. 
 
 He went to Petersburg, and there they came to him. As 
 Nicodemus came to the great PEACE-MAKEK, so the Rebel 
 leaders came to him, by night. Disguised, and under false 
 names, they sought him to ask the way to peace. 
 ; " Lay down your arms ; go back to your allegiance, and the 
 country will deal kindly and generously by you," he said to all 
 of them. 
 ' From all he had the same answer : 
 
 " We are tired of the war. We are willing to give up 
 slavery. We know it is gone ; but so long as our Government 
 holds out, we must stanxl by it. We cannot betray it and each 
 other."
 
 COLONEL JAMES F. JAQUE88. "17 
 
 And this is now the sentiment of the Southern people, and 
 of a vast number of the Southern leaders. 
 
 He remained at Petersburg several weeks and then returned 
 to Baltimore. From there he wrote to the President, but re- 
 ceived no answer. He waited there a long time ; but, no an- 
 swer coming, finally returned to his regiment. Then he wrote me, 
 stating the result of his visit, and saying he wanted to go again, 
 with liberty to see Jeff. Davis. [Other leaders he had seen, but 
 Davis he had not seen.] This letter came just as I was setting 
 out on a long journey; and, naturally concluding that if he 
 had not answered Jaquess, he would not answer me, I did not 
 write to the President. Thus the affair rested till I returned 
 from my journey. Then I went to Washington, and, calling 
 on Mr. Lincoln, asked him why he had not answered Jaquess. 
 
 " I never received his letter," was the unexpected reply. 
 
 "Well, it's not too late. Those people are ripe for peace 
 now. I know that from many of them. Let Jaquess go again. 
 There is no telling what he may accomplish." 
 
 The President turned about on his chair, and on a small 
 card wrote the following : 
 
 " To whom it may concern : 
 
 " The bearer, Colonel James F. Jaquess, Seventy-third 
 Illinois, has leave of absence until further orders. 
 
 "A. LINCOLN." 
 
 In a few weeks Jaquess joined me in Baltimore. Going 
 with him to Washington, I then learned that unexpected 
 obstacles were in the way of his further progress. These ob- 
 stacles could be removed by niy accompanying him, and that 
 and other reasons finally led to our visiting Richmond together.
 
 248 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 i 
 
 ON THE WAT TO RICHMOND. 
 
 HAVING decided on accompanying Colonel Jaquess, I pro- 
 cured a pass to General Grant's head-quarters, and, on a pleasant 
 afternoon in July, went with him on board of one of the small 
 steamers plying between Washington and City Point. As we 
 stepped upon the gangway, a civil young gentleman, in linen 
 trousers and the undress coat of an infantry captain, said to 
 me : 
 
 " Your pass, sir." 
 
 I produced the required paste-board, and coolly putting it in 
 his pocket, he remarked : 
 
 " All right, sir." 
 
 " Not exactly all right, my dear fellow. It will be when you 
 return me the pass." 
 
 " But I'll see you safely to the General's. This is a kind I 
 don't often get, and I want to keep it." 
 
 " And I prefer you shouldn't perhaps for that very reason. 
 So deliver." 
 
 He did " deliver," but very reluctantly. However, he made 
 amends for the slight incivility by uncommon attention during 
 the passage. 
 
 The boat was crowded with passengers officers returning 
 from furlough, recruits going to the field, convalescent veterans 
 rejoining their regiments, and country clergymen entering on
 
 ON TliE WAY TO RICHMOND. 40 
 
 the good work of the Sanitary and Christian Commissions and 
 the trip was fruitful in incidents characteristic of the war, and 
 illustrative of the mighty transition which is regenerating the 
 nation. But we are going to Richmond, and the reader will 
 not thank me if I linger by the way. 
 
 It wanted several hours of sundown on the following day, 
 when the boat rounded to under the abrupt promontory which 
 bears the name of City Point. A large flag was flying among 
 the trees which crown the higher part of the headland, and, 
 making our way to it, we asked for the quarters of the Gen- 
 eral. 
 
 " Yonder, in that tent. He is sitting there, you see," replied 
 the adjutant' 
 
 Without more ceremony, we passed down the grassy avenue, 
 and presented ourselves before him. He was seated on a camp 
 stool, smoking a cigar, and listening to the reading of a news- 
 paper by General Rawlins. A few other officers sat near, and 
 something which had just been read appeared to amuse them 
 greatly. The General looked up as we approached, and, as he 
 espied my companion, rose rather hastily. 
 
 " Ah ! Colonel," he said, extending his hand, " I am glad to 
 see you. It's a long time since we met. Not since " 
 
 " Pittsburg Landing, I believe, General. I think we met 
 there," returned my companion. 
 
 "Yes, I remember. I remember the work you did there for 
 the wounded. When did you leave Sherman ?" 
 
 " About ten days ago. I brought dispatches from him to the 
 War Department." 
 
 " I have heard from him later than that. He is doing splen- 
 didly handling his army most magnificently."
 
 250 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Colonel had introduced me to the General, 
 and at this break in the conversation I said to him : 
 
 " We want your ear, Sir, privately, for a few moments." 
 
 " Certainly ; walk in this way." And rising, he led us into 
 his sleeping apartment a square tent, with a single strip of 
 carpet on the ground, a low camp-cot in one corner, and a port- 
 able desk, covered with open papers, in the other. 
 
 Handing him, then, a note I had with me, I briefly explained 
 our wishes. 
 
 " I don't believe the rebels will receive you. They have not 
 answered a flag for a month. However, I will send one. I 
 shall have to address General Lee. Shall I say you want to 
 meet Judge Ould ?" he asked, drawing his stool to the desk. 
 
 " If you please, and suppose you add, that if there appears to 
 Lee any objection to Quid's meeting us, you would like to 
 have him refer our request to Jeff. Davis." 
 
 " I'll do so," and he began the note. While he was writing 
 it, I noted more particularly his appearance. He is of about the 
 medium height, with a large head, a compact frame, and a 
 deep, broad chest and shoulders. His hair is brown, his eyes 
 clear, deep gray, and his features regular, and of a cast that 
 might be called " Massive, Grecian." Though his first meeting 
 with the Colonel was decidedly cordial, his usual manner is 
 cool and undemonstrative; but with this coolness is a certain 
 earnest simplicity, that impresses one very favorably. In his 
 face is the unyielding persistency which has won him so many 
 battles, but there is nothing else remarkable about him. He 
 does not at once magnetize a stranger with a sense of his genius, 
 as does Rosecrans. 
 
 The note finished, he read it to us. " Will that do ?" he asked.
 
 ON THE WAY TO RICHMOND. 2f 1 
 
 " Yes, Sir; when can it go off ?" 
 
 " At once. It'll go by boat to Point of Rocks, and from there 
 to the Rebel lines ; but, at the earliest, you'll not get a reply 
 1 efore to-morrow night." 
 
 The conversation then took a general turn, and in a clear, 
 simple way he explained the military position, expressing the 
 opinion that the fall of Richmond and the defeat of Lee, 
 though they might be delayed, were inevitable events. 
 
 As we rose to go, he said : 
 
 " Where do you sleep to-night ?" 
 
 " We've engaged lodgings on the steamer. We hope to 
 leave you to-morrow." 
 
 As we passed down towards the wharf, we met a number of 
 officers just landed from a small steamer. One of them, though 
 I had never seen him before, I knew at once to be General 
 Butler. Obeying a sudden impulse, I halted as he came 
 abreast of us, and said to him : 
 
 " I want to take yon by the hand ; I am, myself, a live 
 Yankee," and I mentioned my name. 
 
 Giving me a cordial grasp, he replied, "I'm delighted to 
 meet you. Come up and see me. Take the ' Gazelle' to 
 Point of Rocks don'i, go to Bermuda. Come to-morrow." 
 
 I then introduced the Colonel, and the General again urging 
 us to visit him, we promised to do so. 
 
 Reporting our intended absence to General Grant, and 
 requesting him to forward Lee's answer to us by telegraph, we 
 set out on the following morning for the head-quarters of " Our 
 Massachusetts General." We found them about a mile distant 
 from the Appomatox river, in a worn-dut tobacco-field, flanked 
 on two sides by dense woods, and hemmed in on the others
 
 252 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 by " moving" banks of Virginia sand. It was a dreary spot, 
 but we forgot that, the moment we entered the General's tent, 
 and he accosted us with : 
 
 " I'm glad you've come. There are two cots in the corner. 
 They are yours. I sent your flag this morning. It may not 
 be back for some days. In the mean time make yourselves at 
 home. Go and come when you like, and do exactly as you 
 please." 
 
 We remained with the General nearly three days, and they 
 were among the most agreeable days I ever passed. We rode 
 with him about his lines, witnessing his reviews of the black 
 troops, and his various experiments in " Greek fire," " Proclama- 
 tion kite" flying, and " infernal shell" shooting, which are 
 proving so valuable to the army ; or, when not so engaged, sat 
 with, him in his tent, listening to his interesting political and 
 military experiences, and getting such inside glimpses of " But- 
 ler in New Orleans" as are not to be found even in Parton's 
 admirable book. With a keen sense of humor, an inexhaustible 
 fund of anecdote, and a ready, comprehensive intellect, he is 
 about the most interesting and entertaining conversationalist I 
 ever knew. In hearing him, one loses the " power of speech," 
 and only sits still and listens. He knew our object in visiting 
 Rebeldom, and one morning I said to him : 
 
 " General, you know Jeff. Davis. Tell us, how shall we 
 approach him ? what shall we say to him ?" 
 
 Drawing one leg over the other, and dilating his nostrils in 
 a way peculiar to himself, he answered : 
 
 "Do you really want to know 1 Well, I'll tell you," and, 
 throwing himself into an attitude, he gave us for half an hour 
 an imaginary conversation with the Rebel leader, personating
 
 ON THE WAY TO RICHMOND. 253 
 
 first him, and then the Colonel and myself, and " doing" us so 
 admirably that I almost fancied we ourselves were actually 
 speaking. As he was about concluding, General Meade entered 
 the front tent, and as he rose to receive his visitor, he turned 
 on his heel, and still speaking as Jeff. Davis " finished us" 
 as follows : 
 
 " Now, gentlemen, I've said my say, and if you don't clear 
 out, and take your Yankee notions to some other market, I'll 
 hang you to the first tree I will, as I'm a Christian !" 
 
 Afterwards, when listening to the much more serious words 
 of the Rebel leader, I had often to smile as General Butler's 
 inimitable personation of him recurred to me ; and when again, 
 late at night, we returned from the Rebel lines, and stiff with 
 long riding, and exhausted with fatigue and illness, I staggered 
 into his lent, and threw myself on a cot in the corner, I almost 
 died with laughter while the Colonel recounted to him the Rich- 
 
 O 
 
 mond interview it was so like the advance representation he 
 had given us. If we had known Jeff. Davis as General Butler 
 knows him, I very much question our having gone to Rich- 
 mond. 
 
 The next morning the flag-of-truce officer came into camp 
 with a dispatch, of which the following is a copy : 
 
 "WAR DEPARTMENT, RICHMOND, VA., July 12<&, 1864. 
 
 " To the Officer commanding 
 
 the United States Forces at Deep Bottom, Fa. : 
 
 " SIR : A communication from Lieut.-General U. S. Grant to 
 
 General R. E. Lee, requesting that , Esq., and Colonel 
 
 James F. Jaquess, be allowed to meet the undersigned at such
 
 254 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 place between the lines of the two armies as may be designated, 
 having been referred to the War Department, I am directed to 
 request you to notify Lieut. -General Grant that I will be in 
 attendance at some convenient point between Deep Bottom and 
 Chaffin's Bluff (say at Mrs. Grover's), on Thursday, the 14th 
 inst., at one o'clock p. M., to receive any communication the 
 above-named parties have to make. 
 " Respectfully, 
 
 "Your obedient servant, 
 
 "Ro. OULD, 
 " Agent of Exchange" 
 
 At the appointed time we rode up to Mrs. Grover's, a modest 
 plantation mansion, about midway between the two armies on 
 the James River. Our " Southern friends" were not there ; but 
 in the edge of a grove of cedars, a few hundred yards distant, 
 we saw a white flag aflying. Galloping rapidly across the in- 
 tervening wheat-field, we soon caught sight of a pair of horses 
 hitched to an open, two-seated wagon, and near it saw three 
 gentlemen seated on a log in the shade of a huge tree. These 
 gentlemen rose as we approached, and one of them a courteous, 
 middle-aged man, in a Panama hat and a suit of spotless white 
 drillings said to Major Mulford, the Union Commissioner, who 
 accompanied us : 
 
 " I'm glad to see you, Major. It's some time since we met." 
 
 " Yes, it is. I've come now to deliver to you these gentle- 
 men, to be shot or hanged whichever you like." 
 
 The Judge for it was Judge Ould laughed, and then 
 introduced us to his companions Captain Hatch, of the 
 Commission, and Major Henniken, of the Rebel War Depart- 
 ment.
 
 ON THE WAY TO RICHMOND. 255 
 
 Some unimportant conversation followed, and then, saying we 
 would like to speak with him privately, we led the Judge into 
 the grove of cedars. There we opened our business. He lis- 
 tened with interest, but expressed the opinion that Mr. Davis 
 would refuse to see us, unless we produced credentials from 
 our Government. 
 
 " We have none," said the Colonel, in his earnest way ; " but 
 we must see him. We only ask a hearing. Then he may hang 
 or shoot us, if he likes." 
 
 " Hang, but hear !" answered the Judge, laughing. " That 
 is what you mean ?" 
 
 " Yes," said the Colonel. " We have that to say which Mr. 
 Davis ought to hear, and we are willing to risk our lives to 
 say it." 
 
 " Well," said the Judge, " I will bear your message to the 
 President, and meet you here again when ?" 
 
 " To-morrow, at this hour, if you like." 
 
 " That may be too early. Suppose we say the next day, 
 Saturday, at twelve o'clock" 
 
 " Very well ; Saturday let it be." And remounting our 
 horses, we rode back to General Butler's camp. 
 
 We remained there the following day, and on the morning of 
 Saturday, the 16th of July, just as the Boston bells were sound- 
 ing nine, taking him by the hand, we said to him : 
 
 " Good by. If you do not see us within ten days, you will 
 know we have 'gone up.' " 
 
 " If I do not see you within that time," he replied, " I'll de- 
 mand you ; and if they don't produce you, body and soul, I'll 
 take two for one, better men than you are, and hang them 
 higher than Haman. My hand on that. Good by."
 
 25t> DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 At three o'clock that afternoon, mounted on two raw-boned 
 relics of Sheridan's great raid, and armed with a letter to Jeft'. 
 Davis, a white cambric handkerchief tied to a short stick, and 
 an honest face, this last was the Colonel's, we rode up to the 
 rebel lines. A ragged, yellow-faced boy, with a carbine in one 
 hand, and another white handkerchief tied to another short stick 
 in th6 other, came out to meet us. 
 
 " Can you tell us, my man, where to find Judge Ould, the 
 Exchange Commissioner?" 
 
 " Yas. Him and t'other 'Change officers is over ter the 
 plantation beyont Miss Grover's. Ye'll know it by its hevin' 
 nary door nur winder" the mansion, he meant. "They's all 
 busted in. Foller the bridle-path through the timber, and keep 
 your rag a-flyin', fur our boys is thicker 'n huckelberries in 
 them woods, and they mought pop ye, ef they didn't seed it." 
 
 Thanking him, we turned our horses into the " timber," and 
 galloping rapidly on, soon came in sight of the deserted planta- 
 tion. Lolling on the grass, in the shade of the windowless 
 mansion, we found the Confederate officials. They rose as we 
 approached ; and one of us said to the Judge : 
 
 " We are late, but it's your fault. Your people fired at us 
 down the river, and we had to turn back and come over-land." 
 
 "You don't suppose they saw your flag?" 
 
 " No. It was hidden by the treos ; but a shot came uncom- 
 fortably near us. It struck the water, and ricocheted not three 
 yards off. A little nearer, and it would have shortened me by a 
 head, and the Colonel by two feet." 
 
 " That would have been a sad thing for you ; but a miss, you 
 know, is as good as a mile," said the Judge, evidently enjoying 
 the "joke."
 
 ON THE WAY TO RICHMOND. 257 
 
 " We hear Grant was in the boat that followed yours, and was 
 struck while at dinner," remarked Captain Hatch a gentleman, 
 and about the best-looking man in the Confederacy. 
 
 " Indeed ! Do you believe it ?" 
 
 " I don't know, of course ;" and his looks asked for an an- 
 swer. We gave none, for all snch information is contraband. 
 We might have told him that Grant, Butler, and Foster exam- 
 ined their position from Mrs. Grover's house a few hundred 
 yards distant two hours after the Rebel cannon-ball danced a 
 break-down on the Lieutenant-General's dinner-table. 
 
 In addition to the Major Hermiken previously spoken of, 
 there were present, on this occasion, several other officials, 
 whose appearance indicated that we were to be .welcomed in 
 Richmond. 
 
 One of them was a stoutly built man, of medium height, 
 with a short, thick neck, and arms and shoulders denoting 
 great strength. He looked a natural-born jailer, and much such 
 a character as a timid man would not care to encounter, except 
 at long range of a rifle warranted to fire twenty shots a minute, 
 and to hit every time. This was Mr. Charles Javins, of the 
 Richmond Provost-Guard, and he was our shadow in Dixie. 
 Another was a " likely" " cullud gemman," named Jack, who 
 told us he was almost the sole survivor of " Massa Allen's" 
 twelve hundred slaves " De res' all stole, Massa stole by you 
 Yankees," and the others were two mules hitched to an am- 
 bulance, which, over ruts, stumps, and an awful sandy road, 
 bore us safely to the Rebel capital. 
 
 To give us a moonlight view of the fortifications, Judge Ould 
 proposed to start after sundown ; and as it wanted some hours 
 of that time, we seated ourselves on the ground, and entered into
 
 258 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 conversation. The treatment of our prisoners, the status of black 
 troops, arid non-combatants, and all the questions which have 
 led to the suspension of exchanges, had been good-naturedly 
 discussed, when the Captain, looking up from one of the North- 
 ern papers we had brought him, said 
 
 " Don't you know, it mortifies me that you don't hate us as 
 we hate you ? You kill us as Agassiz kills a fly, because you 
 love us." 
 
 " Of course we do. The North is being crucified for love of 
 the South." 
 
 " If you love us so, why don't you let us go ?" asked the 
 Judge, rather curtly. 
 
 " For that very reason, because we love you. If we let you 
 go, with slavery, and your notions of 'empire,' you'd run 
 straight to barbarism and the Devil." 
 
 " We'd take the risk of that. But, let me tell you, if you 
 are going to Mr. Davis with any such ideas, you might as well 
 turn back at once. He can make peace on no other basis than 
 Independence. Recognition must be the beginning, middle, 
 and ending of all negotiations. Our people will accept peace 
 on no other terms." 
 
 "I think you are wrong there," said the Colonel. "When 
 I was here a year ago, I met many of your leading men, and 
 they all assured me they wanted peace and reunion, even at the 
 sacrifice of slavery. Within a week, a man you venerate and 
 love has met me at Baltimore, and besought me to come here 
 and offer Mr. Davis peace on such conditions." 
 
 " That may be. Some of our old men, who are weak in the 
 knees, may want peace on any terms ; but the Southern people 
 will not have it without Independence. Mr. Davis knows them,
 
 ON THE WAY TO RICHMOND. 259 
 
 and you will find he will insist upon that. Concede that, and 
 we'll not quarrel about minor matters." 
 
 " We'll not quarrel at all. But it's sundown, and time we 
 were ' on to Richmond.' " 
 
 " That 's the ' Tribune' cry," said the Captain, rising ; " and I 
 hurrah for the * Tribune,' for it 's honest, and I want my sup- 
 per." 
 
 We all laughed, and the Judge ordered the horses. As we 
 wore about to start, I said to him : 
 
 " You 've forgotten our parole." 
 
 " Oh ! never mind that. We'll attend to that at Richmond." 
 
 Stepping into his carriage, and unfurling the flag of truce, 
 he then led the way, by a " short cut," across the cornfield 
 which divided the mansion from the high-road. We followed 
 in the ambulance, our shadow, Mr. Javins, sitting between us 
 and the twilight, and Jack occupying the front seat, and, with ? 
 stout whip, " working our passage" to Richmond. 
 
 Much that was amusing and interesting occurred during our 
 three-hours' journey, but regard for my word forbids my rela- 
 ting it. Suffice it to say, we saw the " frowning fortifications," 
 AVC " flanked" the " invincible army," and, at ten o'clock that 
 night, planted our flag (against a lamp-post) in the very heart of 
 the hostile city. As we alighted at the doorway of the Spots- 
 wood Hotel, the Judge said to the Colonel, 
 
 " Button your outside coat up closely. Your uniform must 
 not be seen here." 
 
 The Colonel did as he was bidden ; and, without stopping to 
 register our names at the office, we followed the Judge and the 
 Captain up to No. 60. It was a large, square room, in the 
 fourth story, with an unswept, ragged carpet, and bare white
 
 260 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 walls, smeared with soot and tobacco-juice. Several chairs, a 
 marble-top table, and a pine wash-stand and clothes-press, strag- 
 gled about the floor, and in the corners were three beds, gar- 
 nished with tattered pillow-cases, and covered with white coun- 
 terpanes, grown gray with longing for soapsuds and a wash-tub. 
 The plainer and humbler of these beds was designed for the 
 burly Mr. Javins; the others had been made ready for the 
 extraordinary envoys (not envoys extraordinary) who, in defi- 
 ance of all precedent and the "law of nations," had just "takeii 
 Richmond." 
 
 A single gas-jet was burning over the mantel-piece, and above 
 it I saw a " writing on the wall," which implied that Jane Jack- 
 son had run up a washing-score of fifty dollars ! 
 
 I was congratulating myself on not having to pay that wo- 
 man's laundry-bills, when the Judge said : 
 
 " You want supper. What shall we order ?" 
 
 " A slice of hot corn-bread would make me the happiest man 
 in Richmond." 
 
 The Captain thereupon left the room, and, shortly returning, 
 remarked : 
 
 " The landlord swears you're from Georgia. He says none 
 but a Georgian would call for corn-bread at this time of 
 night." 
 
 On that hint we acted, and when our sooty attendant came 
 in with the supper-things, we discussed Georgia mines, Georgia 
 banks, and Georgia mosquitoes, in a way that showed we had 
 been bitten by all of them. In half an hour it was noised all 
 about the hotel that the two gentlemen the Confederacy was 
 taking such excellent care of were from Georgia. 
 
 The meal ended, and a quiet smoke over, our entertainers
 
 ON T-HE WAY TO RICHMOND. 261 
 
 rose to go. As the Judge bade us " good-night," he said 
 to us : 
 
 " In the morning you had better address a note to Mr. Ben- 
 jamin, asking the interview with the President. I will call at 
 ten o'clock, and take it to him." 
 
 " Very well. But will Mr. Davis see us on Sunday ?" 
 
 " Oh ! that will make no difference."
 
 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 IN RICHMOND. 
 
 THE next morning, after breakfast, which we took in our 
 room with Mr. Javins, we indited a note of which the following 
 is a copy to the Confederate Secretary of State : 
 
 "SPOTSWOOD HOUSE, RICHMOND, VA., 
 
 "July 17, 1864. 
 " Hon. J. P. BENJAMIN, Secretary of State, etc. 
 
 " DEAR SIR : The undersigned respectfully solicit an inter- 
 view with President Davis. 
 
 " They visit Richmond only as private citizens, and have no 
 official character or authority ; but they are acquainted with 
 the views of the United States Government, and with the sen- 
 timents of the Northern people, relative to an adjustment of the 
 differences existing between the North and the South, and ear- 
 nestly hope that a free interchange of views between President 
 Davis and themselves may open the way to such official nego- 
 tiations as will result in restoring PEACE to the two sections of 
 our distracted country. 
 
 " They therefore ask an interview with the President, and, 
 awaiting your reply, are 
 
 " Truly and respectfully yours." 
 
 This was signed by both of us ; and when the Judge called, 
 as he had appointed, we sent it together with a commenda- 
 tory letter I had received on setting out, from a near relative of
 
 IN RICHMOND. 263 
 
 Mr. Davis to the Rebel Secretary. In half an hour Judge 
 Ould returned, saying : " Mr. Benjamin sends you his compli- 
 ments, and will be happy to see you at the State Depart- 
 ment." 
 
 We found the Secretary a short, plump, oily little man in 
 black, with a keen black eye, a Jew face, a yellow skin, curly 
 black hair, closely-trimmed black whiskers, and a ponderous gold 
 watch-chain in the northwest room of the " United "States" 
 Custom-House. Over the door of this room were the words, 
 " State Department," and about its walls were hung a few maps 
 and battle-plans. In one corner was a tier of shelves, filled 
 with books, among which I noticed Headley's "History," 
 Lossing's " Pictorial," Parton's "Butler," Greeley's " American 
 Conflict," a complete set of the " Rebellion Record," and a 
 dozen numbers and several bound volumes of the "Atlantic 
 Monthly," and in the centre of the apartment was a black- 
 walnut table, covered with green cloth, and filled with a multi- 
 tude of "State papers." At this table sat the Secretary. He 
 rose as we entered, and, as Judge Ould introduced us, took our 
 hands, and said : 
 
 " I am glad, very glad, to meet you, gentlemen. I have read 
 your note, and" bowing to me " the letter you bring from 
 
 . Your errand commands my respect and sympathy. 
 
 Pray be seated." 
 
 As we took the proffered seats, the Colonel, drawing off his 
 " duster," and displaying his uniform, said : 
 
 " We thank you for this cordial reception, Mr. Benjamin. 
 We trust you will be as glad to hear us as you are to see us." 
 
 " No doubt I shall be, for you come to talk of peace. Peace 
 is what we all want."
 
 264 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 ' It is, indued; and for that reason we have come to see Mi 
 Davis. Can we see him, Sir ?" 
 
 "Do you bring any overtures to him from your Govern- 
 ment ?" 
 
 " No, Sir. We bring no overtures and have no authority 
 from our Government. We state that in our note. We would 
 be glad, however, to know what terms will be acceptable to Mr. 
 Davis. If they at all harmonize with Mr. Lincoln's views, we 
 will report them to him, and so open the door for official nego- 
 tiations." 
 
 " Are you acquainted with Mr. Lincoln's views ?" 
 
 " One of us is, fully ?" 
 
 "Did Mr. Lincoln, in any way, authorize you to come 
 here?" 
 
 "No, Sir. We came with his pass, but not by his request. 
 We say, distinctly, we have no official, or unofficial, authority. 
 We come as men and Christians, not as diplomatists, hoping, in 
 a frank talk with Mr. Davis, to discover some way by which 
 this war may be stopped." 
 
 " Well, gentlemen, I will repeat what you say to the Presi- 
 dent, and if he follows my advice, and I think he will, he 
 will meet you. He will be at church this afternoon ; so, sup- 
 pose you call here at nine this evening. If any thing should 
 occur in the mean time to prevent his seeing you, I will let you 
 know through Judge Ould." 
 
 Throughout this interview the manner of the Secretary was 
 cordial ; but with this cordiality was a strange constraint and 
 diffidence, almost amounting to timidity, which struck both my 
 companion and myself. Contrasting his manner with the quiet 
 dignity of the Colonel, I almost fancied our positions reversed,
 
 IN RICHMOND. 265 
 
 that, instead of our being in his power, the Secretary was 
 in ours, and momently expected to hear some unwelcome sen- 
 tence from our lips. There is something, after all, in moral 
 power. Mr. Benjamin does not possess it, nor is he a great 
 man. He has a keen, shrewd, ready intellect, but not the 
 stamina to originate, or even to execute, any great good, or great 
 wickedness. 
 
 After a day spent in our room, conversing with the Judge, or 
 watching the passers-by in the street, I would like to tell who 
 they were, and how they looked ; but such information is, just 
 now, contraband, we called again, at nine o'clock, at the State 
 Department. 
 
 Mr. Benjamin occupied his previous seat at the table, and at 
 his right sat a spare, thin-featured man, with iron-gray hair and 
 beard, and a clear, gray eye, full of life and vigor. He had a 
 broad, massive forehead, and a mouth and chin denoting great 
 energy and strength of will. His face was emaciated, and 
 much wrinkled, but his features -were good, especially his eyes, 
 though one of them bore a scar, apparently made by some 
 sharp instrument. He wore a suit of grayish-brown, evidently 
 of foreign manufacture, and, as he rose, I saw that he was 
 about five feet ten inches high, with a slight stoop in the 
 shoulders. His manners were simple, easy, and most fasci- 
 nating; and there was an indescribable charm in his voice, as 
 he extended his hand and said to us : 
 
 " I am glad to see you, gentlemen. You are very welcome 
 to Richmond." 
 
 And this was the man who was President of the United 
 States, under Franklin Pierce, and who is now the heart, soul, 
 and brains of the Southern Confederacy !
 
 266 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 His manner put me entirely at my ease, the Colonel would 
 be at his, if he stood before Ciesar, and I replied: 
 
 " We thank you, Mr. Davis. It is not often that you meet 
 men of our clothes and our principles in Richmond." 
 
 " Not often, not so often as I could wish ; and I trust your 
 coming may lead to a more frequent ar-A a more friendly inter- 
 course between the North and the Soutn." 
 
 " We sincerely hope it may." 
 
 " Mr. Benjamin tells me that you ha^ 5 asked to see me to " 
 
 And he paused, as if desiring we should finish the sentence. 
 The Colonel replied : 
 
 " Yes, Sir. We have asked this -interview, in the hope that 
 you may suggest some way by which this war may be stopped. 
 Our people want peace, your people do, and your Congress 
 has recently said that you do. We have come to ask how it 
 can be brought abont." 
 
 " In a very simple way. Withdraw your armies from our 
 territory, and peace will come, of itself. We do not seek to 
 subjugate you. We are not waging an offensive war, except so 
 far as it is offensive-defensive, that is, so far as we are forced 
 to invade you to preveut your invading us. Let us alone, and 
 peace will come at once. 
 
 " But we cannot let you alone so long as you repudiate the 
 Union. That is the one thing the Northern people will not 
 surrender." 
 
 " I know. You would deny to us what you exact for your- 
 selves the right of self-government." 
 
 "No, Sir," I remarked. "We would deny you no natural 
 right. But we think Union essential to peace; and, Mr. Davis 
 could two people, with the same language, separated by only
 
 IN r.TCUMOND. 267 
 
 an imaginary line, live at peace with each other? Would not 
 disputes constantly arise, and cause almost constant wjir between 
 them ?" 
 
 " Undoubtedly, with this generation. You have sown 
 such bitterness at the South ; you have put such an ocean of 
 blood between the two sections, that I despair of seeing any 
 harmony in my time. Our children may forget this war, but 
 we cannot." 
 
 "I think the bitterness you speak of, Sir," said the Colonel, 
 " does not really exist. We meet and talk here as friends ; our, 
 soldiers meet and fraternize with each other ; and I feel sure 
 that if the Union were restored, a more friendly feeling would 
 arise between us than has ever existed. The war has made us 
 know and respect each other better than before. This is the 
 view of very many Southern men ; I have had it from many 
 of them, your leading citi/ens." 
 
 " They are mistaken," replied Mr. Davis. " They do not 
 understand Southern sentiment. How can we feel any thing 
 but bitterness towards men who deny us our rights ? If you 
 enter my house and drive me out of it, am I not your natural 
 enemy ?" 
 
 " You put the case too strongly. But we cannot fight for- 
 ever ; the war must end at some time ; we must finally agree 
 upon something; can we not agree now, and stop this frightful 
 carnage ? We are both Christian men, Mr. Davis. Can you, 
 as a Christian man, leave untried any means that may lead to 
 peace $" 
 
 " No, I cannot. I desire peace as much as you do. I de- 
 plore bloodshed as much as you do ; but I feel that not one 
 drop of the blood shed in this war is on my hands, I can look
 
 268 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 up to my God and say this. I tried all in my power to avert 
 this war. .1 saw it coming, and for twelve years I worked night 
 and day to prevent.it, but I could not. The North was mad 
 and blind ; it would not let us govern ourselves, and so the war 
 came, and now it must go on till the last man of this generation 
 falls in his tracks, and his, children seize his musket and fight 
 our battle, unless you acknowledge our right to self-government. 
 We are not fighting for slavery. We are fighting for Indepen- 
 dence, and that, or extermination, we will have." 
 
 " And there are, at least, four and a half millions of us left ; 
 so you see you have a work before you," said Mr. Benjamin, 
 with a decided sneer. 
 
 " We have no wish to exterminate you," answered the 
 Colonel. " I believe what I have said, that there is no bitter- 
 ness between the Northern and Southern people. The North, 
 I know, loves the South. When peace comes, it will pour 
 money and means into your hands to repair the waste caused 
 by the war ; and it would now welcome you back, and forgive 
 you all the loss and bloodshed you have caused. But we must 
 crush your armies, and exterminate your Government. And is 
 not that already nearly done? You are wholly without money, 
 and at the end of your resources. Grant has shut you up in 
 Richmond. Sherman is before Atlanta. Had you not, then, 
 better accept honorable terms while you can retain your pres- 
 tige, and save the pride of the Southern people ?" 
 
 Mr. Davis smiled. 
 
 " I respect your earnestness, Colonel, but you do not seem to 
 understand the situation. We are not exactly shut up in Rich- 
 mond. If your papers tell the truth, it is your capital that is 
 in danger, not ours. Some weeks ago, Grant crossed the Rapi-
 
 TN RICHMOND. f69 
 
 dan to whip Lee, and take Richmond. Lee drove him in the 
 first battle, and then Grant executed what your people call a 
 ; brilliant flank movement,' and fought Lee again. Lee drove 
 him a second time, and then Grant made another ' flank move- 
 ment ;' and so they kept on, Lee whipping, and Grant flank 
 ing, until Grant got where he is now. And what is the ne4 
 result ? Grant has lost seventy-five or eighty thousand men 
 more than Lee had at the outset, and is no nearer taking 
 Richmond than at first; and Lee, whose front has never been 
 broken, holds him completely in check, and has men enough to 
 spare to invade Maryland and threaten Washington ! Sher- 
 man, to be sure, is before Atlanta ; but suppose he is, and 
 suppose he takes it ? You know that the farther he goes from 
 his base of supplies, the weaker he grows, and the more dis- 
 astrous defeat will be to him. And defeat may come. So, 
 in a military view, I should certainly say our position was bet- 
 ter than yours. 
 
 " As to money : we are richer than you are. You smile ; 
 but, admit that our paper is worth nothing, it answers as a 
 circulating medium, and we hold it all ourselves. If every dol- 
 lar of it were, lost, we should, as we have no foreign debt, be 
 none the poorer. But, it is worth something; it has the solid 
 basis of a large cotton-crop, while yours rests on nothing, and 
 you owe all the world. As to resources : we do not lack for 
 arms or ammunition, and we have still a wide territory from 
 which to gather supplies. So, you see, we are not in extremi- 
 ties. But, if we were, if we were without money, without 
 food, without weapons, if our whole country were desolated, 
 and our armies crushed and disbanded, could we, without 
 giving up our manhood, give up our right to govern ourselves?
 
 270 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 Would you not rather die, and feel yourself a man, than live, 
 and be subject to a foreign power?" 
 
 " From your stand-point there is force in what you say," re- 
 plied the Colonel. " But we did not come here to argue with 
 you, Mr. Davis. We came, hoping to find some honorable way 
 to peace, and I am grieved to hear you say what you do. When 
 I have seen your young men dying on the battle-field, and your 
 old men, women, and children starving in their homes, I have 
 felt I could risk my life to save them. For that reason I am 
 here ; and I am grieved, grieved, that there is no hope." 
 
 " I know your motives, Colonel Jaquess, and I honor you 
 for them ; but what can I do more than I am doing ? I 
 would give my poor life, gladly, if it would bring peace and 
 good-will to the two countries ; but it would not. It is with 
 your own people you should labor. It is they who desolate 
 our homes, burn our wheat-fields, break the wheels of wagons 
 carrying away our women and children, and destroy supplies 
 meant for our sick and wounded. At your door lies all the 
 misery and the crime of this war, and it is a fearful, fearful 
 account." 
 
 " Not all of it, Mr. Davis. I admit a fearful account, but it 
 is not all at our door. The passions of both sides are aroused. 
 Unarmed men are hanged, prisoners are shot down in cold 
 blood, by yourselves. Elements of barbarism are entering the 
 war from both sides, that should make us you and me, as 
 Christian men shudder to think of. In God's name, then, let 
 us stop it. Let us do something, concede something, to bring 
 about peace. You cannot expect, with only four and a half 
 millions, as Mr. Benjamin says you have, to hold out forever 
 against twenty millions."
 
 IN RICHMOND. 271 
 
 Again Mr. Davis smiled. 
 
 " Do you suppose there are twenty millions at the North 
 determined to crush us ?" 
 
 " I do, to crush your Government. A small number of our 
 people, a very small number, are your friends, Secessionists. 
 The rest differ about measures and candidates, but are united in 
 the determination to sustain the Union. Whoever is elected in 
 November, he must be committed to a vigorous prosecution of 
 the war.". 
 
 Mr. Davis still looking incredulous, I remarked 
 
 " It is so, Sir. Whoever tells you otherwise, deceives you. 
 I think I know Northern sentiment, and I assure you it is so. 
 You know we have a system of lyceum-lecturing in our large 
 towns. At the close of these lectures, it is the custom of the 
 people to come upon the platform and talk with the lecturer. 
 This gives him an excellent opportunity of learning public sen- 
 timent. Last winter I lectured before nearly a hundred of such 
 associations, all over the North, from Dubuque to Bangor, 
 and I took pains to ascertain the feeling of the people. I found 
 a unanimous determination to crush the rebellion and save the 
 Union -at every sacrifice. The majority are in favor of Mr. 
 Lincoln, and nearly all of those opposed to him are opposed to 
 him because they think he does not fight you with enough 
 vigor. The radical Republicans, who go for slave-suffrage and 
 thorough confiscation, are those who will defeat him, if he is 
 defeated. But if he is defeated before the people, the House 
 will elect a worse man worse I mean for you. It is more 
 radical than he is, you can see that from Mr. Ashley's recon- 
 struction bill, and the people are more radical than the House. 
 Mr. Lincoln, I know, is about to call out five hundred thousand
 
 272 DOWN TN TKNXF.S3ER. 
 
 inoro men, and I don't see how you can resist much longer; 
 but if you do, you will only deepen the radical foeling of the 
 Northern people. They would now give you fair, honorable, 
 generous terms ; but let them suffer much more, let there be a 
 dead man in every house, as there is now in every village, and 
 they will give you no terms, they will insist on hanging every 
 rebel south of Pardon my terms. I mean no offence." 
 
 "You give no offence," he replied, smiling very pleasantly. 
 " I wouldn't have you pick your words. This is a frank, free 
 talk, and I like you the better for saying wliat you think. Go 
 on." 
 
 " I was merely going to add, that let the Northern people 
 once really feel the war they do not feel it yet and they will 
 insist on hanging every one of your leaders." 
 
 " Well, admitting all you say, I can't see how it affects our 
 position. There are some things worse than hanging or exter- 
 mination. We reckon giving up the right of self-government 
 one of those things." 
 
 "By self-government you mean disunion Southern Inde- 
 pendence." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And slavery, you say, is no longer an element in the con- 
 test ?" 
 
 " No, it is not. It never was an essential element. It was 
 only a means of bringing other conflicting elements to an 
 earlier culmination. It fired the musket which was already 
 capped and loaded. There are essential differences between 
 the North and the South, that will, however this war may end, 
 make them two nations." 
 
 "You ask me to say what I think. Will you allow n>e to
 
 IN RICHMOND. 2 73 
 
 say that I know the South pretty well, and never observed 
 those differences ?" 
 
 " Then you have not used your eyes. My sight is poorer 
 than yours, but I have seen them for years." 
 
 The laugh was upon me, and Mr. Benjamin enjoyed it. 
 
 " Well, Sir, be that as it may, if I understand you, the dis- 
 pute between your government and ours is now narrowed down 
 to this : Union or Disunion." 
 
 " Yes ; or, to put it in other words, Independence or Subju- 
 gation." 
 
 " Then the two governments are irreconcilably apart. They 
 have no alternative but to fight it oat. But, it is not so with 
 the people. They are tired of fighting and want peace ; and, as 
 they bear all the burden and suffering of the war, is it not right 
 they should have peace, and have it on snch terms as they like ?" 
 
 " I don't understand you ; be a little more explicit." 
 
 " Well. Suppose the two governments should agree to 
 something like this: Togo to the people with two proposi- 
 tions ; say : Peace, with Disunion and Southern Independence, 
 as your proposition ; and : Peace, with Union, Emancipation, 
 No Confiscation, and Universal Amnesty as ours. Let the citi- 
 zens of all the United States (as they existed before the war) 
 vote ' Yes,' or ' No,' on these two propositions, at a special 
 election within sixty days. If 'a majority vote Disunion, our 
 government to be bound by it, and to let you go in peace. If 
 a majority vote Union, yours to be bound by it, and to stay 
 in peace. The two governments can contract in this way, and the 
 pec ;ie, though constitutionally unable to decide on peace or war, 
 can elect which of any two propositions shall govern their 
 
 rulers. Let Lee and Grant, meanwhile, agree to an armistice. 
 12*
 
 74 DOWN Itf TENNESSEE. 
 
 This would sheathe the sword ; and, if once sheathed, it would 
 never again be drawn by this generation." 
 
 "The plan is altogether impracticable. If the South were 
 only one State, it might work ; but, as it is, if one Southern 
 State objected to emancipation, it would nullify the whole 
 thing, for you are aware the people of Virginia cannot vote 
 slavery out of South Carolina, or the people of South Carolina 
 vote it out of Virginia." 
 
 " But three-fourths of the States can amend the Constitution. 
 Let it be done in that way in any way, so that it be done by 
 the people. I am not a statesman or a politician, and I do not 
 know just how such a plan could be carried out ; but you get 
 the idea that the PEOPLE shall decide the question." 
 
 " That the majority shall decide it, you mean. We seceded 
 to rid ourselves of the rule of the majority, and this would 
 subject us to it again." 
 
 "But the majority must rule finally, either with bullets or 
 ballots." 
 
 " I am not so sure of that. Neither current events nor his- 
 tory shows that the majority rules, or ever did rule. The con- 
 trary, I think, is true. Why, Sir, the man who should go before 
 the Southern people with such a proposition with any propo- 
 sition which implied that the North was to have a voice in 
 determining the domestic relations of the South could not 
 live here a day ! He would be hanged to the first tree, without 
 judge or jury." 
 
 "Allow me to doubt that. I think it more likely he would 
 be hanged if he let the Southern people know the majority 
 could not rule," I replied, smiling. 
 
 "I have no fear of that," rejoined Mr. Davis, also smiling
 
 IN RICHMOND. 275 
 
 most good-humoredly. " I give you leave to proclaim it from 
 every house-top in the South." 
 
 " But, seriously, Sir, you let the majority rule iu a single 
 State ; why not let it rule in the whole country ?" 
 
 "Because the States are independent and sovereign. The 
 country is not. Ifcis only a confederation of States; or rather 
 it was : it is now two confederations." 
 
 " Then we are not a people we are only a political partner- 
 ship ?" 
 
 " That is all." 
 
 " Your very name, Sir, ' United States,' implies that," said 
 Mr. Benjamin. " But, tell me, are the terms you have named 
 Emancipation, No Confiscation, and Universal Amnesty 
 the terms which Mr. Lincoln authorized you to offer us?" 
 
 " No, Sir. Mr. Lincoln did not authorize me to offer you 
 any terms. But I think both he and the Northern people, for 
 the sake of peace, would assent to some such conditions." 
 
 "Th.yare very generous," replied Mr. Davis, for the first 
 time during the interview showing some angry feeling. " But 
 Amnesty, Sir, applies to criminals. W^e have committed no 
 crime. Confiscation is of no account unless you can enforce 
 it ; and EmancipatioL ! You have already emancipated nearly 
 two millions of our slaves, and if you will take care' of them, 
 you may emancipate the rest. I had a few when the war be- 
 gan. I was of some use to them ; they never were of any to 
 me. Against their will you ' emancipated ' them ; and you 
 may 'emancipate' every negro in the Confederacy, but we will 
 be free ! We will govern ourselves ! We will do it, if we 
 have to see every Southern plantation sacked, and every 
 Southern city in flames !"
 
 276 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 "I see, Mr. Davis, it is useless to continue this conversation," 
 I replied ; " and you will pardon us if we have seemed to press 
 our views with too much pertinacity. We love the old flag, 
 and that must be our apology for intruding upon you at all." 
 
 "You have not intruded upon me," he replied, resuming his 
 usual manner. " I am glad to have met ^ T ou, both. I once 
 loved the old flag as well as you do. I would have died for it ; 
 but now it is to me only the emblem of oppression." 
 
 " I hope the day may never come, Mr. Davis, when / say 
 that," said the Colonel. 
 
 A half-hour's conversation on other topics not of public 
 interest ensued, and then we rose to go. As we did so*the 
 Rebel President gave me his hand, and, bidding me a kindly 
 "good-by," expressed the hope of seeing me again in Rich- 
 mond in happier times when peace should have returned 
 but with the Colonel his parting was particularly cordial. 
 Taking his hand in both of his, he said to him : 
 
 " Colonel, I respect your character and your motives, and I 
 wish you well I wish you every good I can wish you consist- 
 ently with the interests of the Confederacy." 
 
 The quiet, straightforward bearing, and magnificent moral 
 courage of our "fighting parson" had evidently impressed Mr. 
 Davis very favorably. 
 
 As we were leaving the room, he added : 
 
 " Say to Mr. Lincoln from me, that I shall at any time be 
 pleased to receive proposals for peace on the basis of our Inde- 
 pendence. It will be useless to approach me with any other." 
 
 When we went out, Mr. Benjamin calL'd Judge Ould, who 
 had been waiting during the whole interview two hours at 
 the other end of the hall, and we passed down the stairway
 
 IN RICHMOND. 77 
 
 together. As I put my arm within that of the Judge, he said 
 to me: 
 
 " Well, what is the result ?" 
 
 " Nothing but war war to the knife." 
 
 " Ephraim is joined to his idols let him alone," added the 
 Colonel, solemnly. 
 
 Thus ended our interview. I have endeavored to sketch it 
 f'llly and faithfully. The conversation with Mr. Davis I took 
 down shortly after returning to the Union lines, and I have tried 
 to report his exact language, extenuating nothing and coloring 
 nothing that he said. Some of his sentences, as I read them 
 over, appear stilted and high-flown, but they did not sound so 
 when uttered. As listened to, they seemed the simple, natural 
 language of his thought. He spoke deliberately, apparently 
 weighing every word, and well knowing that all he said would 
 be given to the public. 
 
 He is a man of great ability. Our interview explained to 
 me why with no money and no commerce, with nearly every 
 one of their important cities in our hands, and with an army 
 greatly inferior in numbers and equipment to ours, the Rebels 
 have held out so long. It is because of the energy, sagacity, 
 and indomitable will of Jefferson Davis. Without him the 
 Rebellion would crumble to pieces in a day ; with him it may 
 continue to be, even in disaster, a power that will tax the 
 whole energy and resources of the nation. 
 
 The Southern people want peace. Many of the Southern 
 leaders want it both my companion and I, by correspondence 
 and intercourse with them, know this but there can be no 
 peace so long as Mr. Davis controls the South. Ignoring
 
 278 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 Slavery, he himself states the issue rthe only issue with him 
 Union or Disunion. That is it. We must conquer or be 
 conquered. We can negotiate only with the bayonet. We 
 can have peace only by putting forth all our strength, crush- 
 ing the Southern armies, and overthrowing the Southern 
 Government.
 
 OUB LAST DAY IN DIXIE. 270 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 OUR LAST DAY IN DIXIE. 
 
 IT was not far from eleven o'clock at night when we took 
 leave of the Rebel President, and, arm in arm with Judge Ould, 
 made our way through the silent, deserted streets to our ele- 
 vated quarters in the Spotswood Hotel. As we climbed the 
 long, rickety stairs which led to our room in the fourth, story, 
 one of us said to our companion, 
 
 " We can accomplish* nothing more by remaining here. 
 Suppose we shake the sacred soil from our feet to-morrow ?" 
 
 " Very well. At what hour will you start ?" he replied. 
 
 " The earlier, the better. As near daybreak as may be, 
 to avoid the sun." 
 
 "We can't be ready before ten o'clock. The mules are 
 quartered six miles out of town." 
 
 That sounded strange, for Jack, our ebony Jehu, had said to 
 me, only the day before, " Dem is mighty foine mules, Massa. 
 I 'tends ter dem mules myself; we keeps 'em right round de 
 corner.' 1 '' Taken together, the statements of the two officials 
 had a bad look ; but Mr. Davis had just given me a message to 
 his niece, and Mr. Benjamin had just intrusted Colonel Jaquess 
 with a letter contraband, because three pages long for de- 
 livery within the limits of the "United States;" therefore the 
 discrepancy did not alarm me, for the latter facts seemed to 
 assure our safe deliverance from Dixie. Merely saying, " Very
 
 280 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 well, ten o'clock, then, let it be, we'll be ready," we bade 
 the Judge good-night at the landing, and entered our apart- 
 ment. 
 
 We found the guard, Mr. Javins, stretched at full length on 
 his bed, and snoring like the Seven Sleepers. Day and night, 
 from the moment of our first entrance into the Rebel dominions, 
 that worthy, with a revolver in his sleeve, our door-key in his 
 pocket, and a Yankee in each one of his eyes, had implicitly 
 observed his instructions, " Keep a constant watch upon 
 them ;" but overtasked nature had at last got the better of his 
 vigilance, and he was slumbering at his post. Not caring to 
 disturb him, we bolted the door, slid the key under his pillow, 
 and followed him to the land of dreams. 
 
 It was a little after two o'clock, and the round, ruddy moon 
 was looking pleasantly in at my window, when a noise outside 
 awoke me. Lifting the sash, I listened. There was a sound 
 of hurrying feet in the neighboring street, and a prolonged cry 
 of murder! It seemed the wild, strangled shriek of a woman. 
 Springing to the floor, I threw on my clothes, and shook 
 Javins. 
 
 " Wake up ! Give me the key ! They're murdering a 
 woman in the street !" I shouted, loud enough to be heard in 
 the next world. 
 
 But he did not wake, and the Colonel, too, slept on, those 
 despairing cries in his ears, as peacefully as if his great dream 
 of peace had been realized. Still those dreadful shrieks, min- 
 gled now with curses hot from the bottomless pit, came up 
 through the window. No time was to be lost, so, giving 
 another and a desperate tug at Javins, I thrust my hand under 
 his pillow, drew out his revolver and the door-key, and, three
 
 OUR LAST DAY IN DIXIE. 281 
 
 steps at a time, bounded down the stairways. At the outer 
 entrance a half-drunken barkeeper was rubbing his eyes, and 
 asking, " What's the row ?" but not another soul was stirring. 
 Giving no heed to him, I hurried into the street. I had not 
 gone twenty paces, however, before a gruff voice from the 
 shadow of the building called out, 
 
 " Halt ! Who goes thar' ?" 
 
 "A friend," I answered. 
 
 " Advance, friend, and give the countersign." 
 
 " I don't know it." 
 
 " Then ye carn't pass. Orders is strict." 
 
 " What is this disturbance ? I heard a woman crying mur- 
 der." 
 
 The stifled cries had died away, but low moans, and sounds 
 like hysterical weeping, still came up from around the corner. 
 
 " Oh ! nothin', jest some nigger fellers on a time. Thet's all." 
 
 "And you stood by and saw it done!" I exclaimed, with 
 mingled contempt and indignation. 
 
 " Sor it ? How cud / holp it ? I hes my orders, tor kocp 
 my eye on thet 'ar' door; 'sides, thar' war' nigh a dozen on 
 'era, and these Richmond nigs, now that the white folks is 
 away, is more lawless nor old Bragg himself. My life 'ou'd 
 n't ha' been wuth a hill o' beans among 'em." 
 
 By this time I had gradually drawn the sentinel to the cor- 
 ner of the building, and looking down the dimly lighted street 
 whence the sounds proceeded, I saw that it was empty. 
 
 " They are gone now," I said, " and the woman may be dy- 
 ing. Come, go down there with me." 
 
 " Carn't, Gunnel. I 'ou'd n't do it fur all the women in 
 Richmond."
 
 282 DOWN IN TENNESSEE.. 
 
 " Was your mother a woman?" 
 
 " I reckon, and a right peart 'un, ye mought bet yer pile 
 ofl thet." 
 
 " I'll bet my pile she'd disown you, if she knew you turned 
 your back on a woman." 
 
 He gave me a wistful, undecided look, and then, muttering 
 something about "orders," which I did not stop to hear, fol- 
 lowed me, as I hurried down the street. 
 
 Not three hundred yards away, in a narrow recess between 
 two buildings, we found the woman. She lay at full length on 
 the pavement, her neat muslin gown torn to shreds, and her 
 simple lace bonnet crushed into a shapeless mass beside her. 
 Her thick, dishevelled hair only half concealed her open bosom, 
 and from the corners of her mouth the blood was flowing 
 freely. She was not dead, for she still moaned pitifully, 
 but she seemed to be dying. Lifting her head as tenderly as 
 I could, I said to her, 
 
 " Are you much hurt ? Can't you speak to me ?" 
 
 She opened her eyes, and staring at the sentinel with a wild, 
 crazed look, only moaned, 
 
 "Oh! don't! Don't, any more! Let me die! Oh! let 
 me die 1" 
 
 "Not yet. You are too young to die yet. Come, see if 
 you can't sit up." 
 
 Something, it may have been the tone of my voice, seemed 
 to bring her to her senses, for she again opened her eyes, and, 
 with a sudden effort, rose nearly to her feet. In a moment, 
 however, she staggered back, and would have fallen, had not 
 the sentinel caught her. 
 
 " There, don't try again. Best awhile. Take some of this,
 
 OUR LAST DAY IN DIXIE. 283 
 
 it will give you strength ;" and I emptied my brandy flask into 
 her mouth. " Our General" had filled it the morning we set 
 out from his camp ; but two days' acquaintance with the 
 Judge, who declared "such brandy contraband of war," had 
 reduced its contents to a low ebb. Still there was enough to 
 do that poor girl a world of good. She shortly revived, and 
 sitting up. her head against the sentinel's shoulder, told us her 
 story. She was a white woman, and served as nursery-maid 
 in a family that livod hard by. All of its male members being 
 away with the array, she had been sent out at that late hour 
 to procure medicine for a sick child, and, waylaid by a gang 
 of black fiends, had been gagged . and outraged in the very 
 heart of Richmond ! And this is Southern civilization under 
 Jefferson I. ! 
 
 At the end of a long hour, I returned to the hotel. The 
 sentry was pacing to and fro before it, and, seating myself on 
 the door-step, I drew him into conversation. 
 
 " Do such things often happen in Richmond ?" I asked him. 
 
 " Often ! Ye's strange here, I reckon," he replied. 
 
 "No, I've been here forty times, 'but not lately. Things 
 must be in a bad way here, now." 
 
 " Wai, they is ! Thar's nary night but thar's lots o' sech 
 doin's. Ye see, thar ha'n't more'n a corporal's guard o' white 
 men in the hull place, so the nigs they hes the'r own way, and 
 ye'd better b'lieve they raise the Devil, and break things, 
 ginerally." 
 
 " I've seen no other able-bodied soldier about town ; how is 
 it that you are here ?" 
 
 '' I ha'n't able-bodied," he replied, holding up the stump of 
 his left arm, from which the sleeve was dangling. " I lost thet
 
 284 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 more'n a y'ar ago. I b'long ter the cavalry, Fust Alabama, 
 and being's I carn't manage a nag now, they's detailed me fur 
 provost-duty." 
 
 " First Alabama ? I know Captains Webb and Firman of 
 that regiment." 
 
 "Ye does? What! old man Webb, as lives down on 
 Coosa?" 
 
 " Yes, at Gadsden, in Cherokee County. Streight burnt his 
 house, and both of his mill's, on his big raid, and the old man 
 has lost both of his sons in the war. It has wellnigh done 
 him up." 
 
 " I reckon. Stands ter natur' it sh'u'd. The Yankees is 
 
 all-fired fiends. The old man use' ter hate 'em loike . I 
 
 reckon he hates 'em wuss'n uver now." 
 
 " No, he don't. His troubles seem to have softened him. 
 When he told me of them he cried like a child. He reckoned 
 the Lord had brought them on him because he'd fought against 
 the Union." 
 
 " Wai, I doan't know. This war's a bad business, anyhow. 
 Whend' ye see old Webb last?" 
 
 "About a year ago, down in Tennessee, nigh to Tulla- 
 homa." 
 
 " Was he 'long 'o the regiment ?" 
 
 That was a home question, for I had met Captain Webb 
 while he was a prisoner, in the Court-House at Murfreesboro'. 
 However, I promptly replied, 
 
 No, he'd just left it." 
 
 " Wai, I doan't blame him. 'Pears loike, ef such things 
 sh'u'd come onter me*I'd let the war and the kentry go ter the 
 Devil together."
 
 OUR LAST DAT IN DIXIE. 285 
 
 My acquaintance with Captain Webb naturally won me the 
 confidence of the soldier; and for nearly an hour, almost un- 
 questioned, he poured into my ear information that would have 
 been of incalculable value to our generals. Two days later I 
 would have given my right hand for liberty to whisper to 
 General Grant some things that he said ; but honor and honesty 
 forbade it. 
 
 A neighboring clock struck four when I rose to go. As I 
 did so, I said to the sentinel, 
 
 " I saw no other sentry in the streets ; why are you guarding 
 this hotel ?" 
 
 "Wai, ye knows old Brown's a-raisin' Cain down thar' in 
 Georgy. Two o' his men hes come up yere ter see Jeff., and 
 things ha'n't quite satisfactory, so we's orders ter keep 'era 
 tighter 'n a bull's-eye in fly-time." 
 
 So, not content with placing a guard in our very bedchamber, 
 the oily-tongued despot over the way had fastened a padlock 
 over the key-hole of our outside door ! What would happen, 
 if he should hear that I had picked the padlock, and prowled 
 about Richmond for an hour after midnight! The very thought 
 gave my throat a preliminary choke, and my neck an uneasy 
 sensation. It was high time I sought the embrace of that hard 
 mattress in the fourth story. But my fears were groundless. 
 When I crept noiselessly to bed, Javins was sleeping as soundly 
 and snoring as sweetly as if his sins were all forgiven. 
 
 When I awoke in the morning, breakfast was already laid 
 on the centre-table, and an army of newsboys were shouting 
 under our windows, " 'Ere's the ' Enquirer' and the < Dis'patch.' 
 Great news from the front. Gin'ral Grant mortally killed 
 shot with a cannon."
 
 286 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 Rising, and beginning my toilet, I said to Javins, in a tone 
 of deep concern 
 
 "When did that happen?" 
 
 " Why, o' Saturday. I hearn of it afore we left the lines. 
 'Twas all over town yesterday," he replied, with infinite com- 
 posure. 
 
 " And you didn't tell us ! That was unkind of you, Javins, 
 very unkind. How could you do it ?" 
 
 "It's ag'in orders- to talk news with you ; besides, I thought 
 you knowed it." 
 
 "How should we know it?" 
 
 " Why, your boat was only just ahead of his'n, comin' up 
 the river. He got shot runnin' that battery. Hit in the arm, 
 and died when they amputated him." 
 
 " Amputated him ! Did they cut off his head to save his arm ?" 
 
 Whether he saw a quiet twinkle in my eye, or knew that the 
 news was false, I know not. Whichever it was, he replied, 
 
 " I reckon. Then you don't b'lieve it ?" 
 
 " Why should I doubt it ? Don't your papers always tell 
 the truth ?" 
 
 " No, they never do ; lyin's their trade." 
 
 " Then you suppose they're whistling now to keep up their 
 courage ? But let us see what they say. Oblige me with 
 some of your currency." 
 
 He kindly gave me three dollars for one, and ringing the 
 bell, I soon had the five dingy half-sheets which every morn- 
 ing, " Sundays excepted," hold up this busy world, " its fluctu- 
 ations and its vast concerns," to the wondering view of be- 
 leaguered Richmond. 
 
 "Dey's fifty cents apiece, Massa," said the darky, handing
 
 CUE LAST DAT IN DIXIE. 287 
 
 me the papers, and looking wistfully on the poor specimen of 
 lithography which remained after the purchase ; " what shill I 
 do wid dis?" 
 
 " Oh ! keep it. I'd give you more, but that's all the lawful 
 money I have about me." 
 
 He hesitated, as if unwilling to take my last half-dollar ; but 
 self soon got the better of him. He pocketed the shinplaster, 
 and said nothing; but "Poor gentleman? I's sorry for you ! 
 Libin' at de Spotswood, and no money about you !" was legible 
 all over his face. 
 
 We. opened the papers, and, sure enough, General Grant was 
 dead, and laid out in dingy sheets, with a big gun firing great 
 volleys over him ! The cannon which that morning thundered 
 Glory! Hallelujah! through the columns of the "Whig" and 
 the " Examiner" no doubt brought him to life again. No such 
 jubilation, I believe, disgraced our Northern journals when 
 Stonewall Jackson fell. 
 
 Breakfast over, the Colonel and I packed our portmanteaus, 
 and sat down to the intellectual repast. It was a feast, and we 
 enjoyed it. I always have enjoyed the Richmond editorials. 
 If I were a poet, I should study them for epithets. Exhausting 
 the dictionary, their authors ransack heaven, earth, and the 
 other place, and into one expression throw such a concentra- 
 tion of scorn, hate, fury, or exultation, as is absolutely stunning 
 to a man of ordinary nerves. Talk of their being bridled ! 
 They never had a bit in their mouths. Before the war they 
 ran wild, and now they ride rough-shod over decorum, de- 
 cency, and Davis himself. But the dictator endures it like a 
 philosopher. " He lets it pass," said Judge Ould to me, " like 
 the idle wind, which it is."
 
 288 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 At last, ten o'clock the hour when we were to set out from 
 Dixie struck from a neighboring steeple, and I laid down the 
 paper, and listened for the tread of the Judge on the stairs. I 
 had heard it often, and it had always been welcome, for he is a 
 most agreeable companion, but I had not listened for it till 
 then. Then I waited for it as " they that watch for the morn- 
 ing," Tor he was to deliver us from the " den of lions," from 
 " the hold of every^foul and unclean thing." Ten, twenty, 
 thirty minutes I waited, but he did not come ! Why was he 
 late, that prompt man, who was always " on time," who put 
 us through the streets of Richmond the night before on a trot, 
 lest we should be a second late at our appointment ? Did he 
 mean to bake us brown with the mid-day sun ? or had the 
 mules overslept themselves, or moved their quarters still farther 
 out of town ? Well, I didn't know, and it was useless to specu- 
 late, so I took up the paper, and went to reading again. But 
 the stinging editorials had lost their sting, and the pointed 
 paragraphs, though sharper than a meat-axe, fell on me as harm- 
 less as if I had been encased in a suit of mail. 
 
 . At length eleven o'clock sounded, and I took out my watch 
 to count the minutes. One, two, three, how slow they went ! 
 Four, five, ten, fifteen, twenty ! What was the matter with 
 the watch ? Even at this day I could affirm on oath that it 
 took five hours for that hour-hand to get round to twelve. But 
 at last it got there, and then each second seeming a minute, 
 each minute an hour it crept slowly on to one ; "but still no 
 Judge appeared ! Why did he not come ? The reason was 
 obvious. The mules were " quartered six miles out of town," 
 because he had to see Mr. Davis before letting us go. And 
 Davis had heard of my nocturnal rambling, and concluded we
 
 OUR LAST DAY IN DIXIE. 280 
 
 had come as spies. Or he had, from my cross-questioning the 
 night before, detected my main object in coming to Dixie. 
 Either way my doom was sealed. If we were detained as spies, 
 it was hanging. If held on other grounds, it was imprisonment ; 
 and ten days of Castle Thunder, in my then state of health, 
 would have ended my mortal career. 
 
 I had looked at this alternative before setting out. But then 
 
 I saw it afar off; now I stood face to face with it, and I 
 
 thought of home, of the brave boy who had said to me, 
 " Father, I think you ought to go. If I was only a man, I'd 
 go. If you never come back, /'ll take care of the children." 
 
 These thoughts passing in my miud, I rose and paced the 
 room for a few moments, then, turning to Javins, said, 
 
 " Will you oblige me by stepping into- the hall ? My friend 
 and I would have a few words together." 
 
 As he passed out, I said to the Colonel, 
 
 " Ould is more than three hours late ! What does it 
 mean ?" 
 
 All this while he had sat, his spectacles on his nose, and his 
 chair canted against the window-sill, absorbed in the newspa- 
 pers. 
 
 Occasionally he would look up to comment on something he 
 was reading : but not a movement of his face, nor a glance of 
 his eye, had betrayed that he was conscious of Ould's delay, or 
 of my extreme restlessness. When I said this he took off his 
 spectacles, and, quietly rubbing the glasses with his handker- 
 chief, coolly replied, 
 
 u It looks badly, but / ask no odds of them. We may 
 have to show we are men. We have tried to serve the country. 
 That is enough. Let them hang us, if they like." 
 13
 
 290 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 " Colonel," I exclaimed, with a strong inclination to hug him, 
 " you are a trump ! the bravest man I ever knew." 
 
 " I trust in God, that is all," was his reply. 
 
 This was all he said, but his words convey no idea of the 
 sublime courage which shone in his eye and lighted up his 
 every feature. I felt rebuked, and turned away to hide my 
 emotion. As I did so, my attention was arrested by a singular 
 spectacle in a neighboring street. Coming down the hill, hand 
 in hand with a colored woman, were two little boys of about 
 eight or nine years ; one white, the other black. As they 
 neared the opposite corner, the white lad drew back and struck 
 the black boy a heavy blow with his foot. The ebony juvenile 
 doubled up his fist, and, planting it behind the other's ear, 
 felled him to the sidewalk. But the white lad was on his feet 
 again in an instant, and showering on the black a perfect storm 
 of kicks and blows. The latter parried the assault coolly, and, 
 watching his opportunity, planted another blow behind the 
 white boy's ear, which sent him reeling to the ground again. 
 Meanwhile the colored nurse stood by, enjoying the scene, and 
 a score or more of negroes of all ages and sizes gathered around, 
 urging the young ebony on with cheers and other expressions 
 of encouragement. I watched the combat till the white lad 
 went down a thiid time, when a rap came at the door, and 
 Judge Ould entered. 
 
 " Good evening," he said, curtly. 
 
 "Good evening," we replied. 
 
 ."Well, gentlemen, if you are ready, we'll walk round to the 
 Libby," he added, with a hardness of tone I had not observed 
 in his voice before. 
 
 My worst fears were realized ! We were prisoners ! A cold
 
 OUR LAST DAY IN DIXIE. 291 
 
 tremor passed over me, and my tongue refused its office. A 
 drooping plant turns to the sun ; so, being just then a drooping 
 plant, I turned to the Colonel. He stood, drawn up to his full 
 height, looking at Ould. Not a feature of his fine face moved, 
 but his large gray eye was beaming with a sort of triumph. I 
 have met brave men, men who have faced death a hundred 
 times without quailing ; but I never met a man who had the 
 moral grandeur of that man. His look inspired me, for I turned 
 to Ould, and, with a coolness that amazed myself, said : 
 
 " Very well. We are ready. But here is an instructive 
 spectacle ;" and I pointed to the conflict going on in the street. 
 " That is what you are coming to. Fight us another year, and 
 that scene will be enacted, by larger children, all over the 
 South." 
 
 " To prevent that is why we are fighting you at all," he 
 replied, dryly. 
 
 We shook Javins by the hand, and took up our portman- 
 teaus to go. Then our hotel-bill occurred to me, and I said to 
 Ould : 
 
 " You cautioned us against offering greenbacks. We have 
 nothing else. Will you give us some Confederate money in 
 exchange ?" 
 
 " Certainly. But what do you want of money ?" he asked, 
 resuming the free and easy manner he had shown in our pre- 
 vious intercourse. 
 
 " To pay our hotel-bill." 
 
 "You have no bill here. It will be settled by the Con- 
 federacy." 
 
 " We can't allow that. We are not here as the guests of 
 your Government."
 
 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 " Yes, you are, and you can't help yourselves," he re- 
 joined, laughing pleasantly. " If you offer the landlord green- 
 backs, he'll have .you jugged, certain, for it's against the 
 law." 
 
 "That's nothing to us. We are jugged already." 
 
 " So you are !" and he laughed again, rather boisterously. 
 
 His manner half convinced me that he had been playing on 
 our sensibilities ; but I said nothing, and we followed him 
 down the stairs. 
 
 At the outer door stood Jack and the ambulance ! Their 
 presence assured us a safe exit from Dixie, and my feelings 
 found expression somewhat as follows : 
 
 " How are you, Jack ? You're the best-looking darky I ever 
 saw." 
 
 " I's bery well, massa, bery well. Hope you's well," replied 
 Jack, grinning until he made himself uglier than Nature in- 
 tended. " I's glad you tinks I's good-lookin'." 
 
 " Good-looking ! You're better looking than any white man 
 I ever met." 
 
 " You've odd notions of beauty," said the Judge, smiling. 
 " That accounts for your being an Abolitionist." 
 
 " No, it don't" And I added, in a tone too low for Jack to 
 hear, " It only implies, that, until I saw that darky, I doubted 
 our getting out of Dixie." 
 
 The Judge gave a low whistle. 
 
 " So you smelt a rat ?" 
 
 " Yes, a very big one. Tell us, why were you so long behind 
 time ?" 
 
 " I'll tell you when the war is over. Now, I'll take you to 
 Libby and the hospitals, if you'd like to go."
 
 OUR LAST DAY IN DIXIE. 293 
 
 We said we would, and, ordering Jack to follow with the 
 ambulance, the Judge led us down the principal thoroughfare. 
 A few shops were open, a few negro women were passing in and 
 out among them, and a few wounded soldiers were limping 
 along the sidewalks ; but scarcely an able-bodied man was to 
 be seen anywhere. A poor soldier, who had lost both legs 
 and a hand, was seated at a street-corner, asking alms of the 
 colored women as they passed. Pointing to him, the Judge 
 said, 
 
 " There is one of our arguments against reunion. If you will 
 walk two squares, I'll show you a thousand." 
 
 " All asking alms of black women ? That is another indica- 
 tion of what you are coming to." 
 
 He made no reply. After a while, scanning our faces as if he 
 would detect our hidden thoughts, he said, in an abrupt, pointed 
 way, 
 
 " Grant was to have attacked us yesterday. Why didn't he 
 doit?" 
 
 " How should we know ?" 
 
 " You came from Foster's only the day before. That's where 
 the attack was to have been made." 
 
 " Why wasn't it made ? 
 
 " I don't know. Some think it was because you came in, 
 and were expected out that way." 
 
 " Oh ! That accounts for your being so late ! You think 
 we are spies, sent in to survey, and report on the route ?" 
 
 " No, I do not. I think you are honest men, and I've said so." 
 
 And I have no doubt it was because he " said so" that we 
 got out of Richmond. 
 
 By this time we had reached a dingy brick building, from
 
 201 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 one comer of which protruded a small sign, bearing, in black 
 letters on a white ground, the words, 
 
 LIBBY AND SON, 
 
 SHIP-CHANDLKRS AND GROWERS. 
 
 It was three stories high, and about a hundred and thirty 
 feet in width and a hundred and ten in depth. In front, the 
 first story was on a level with the street, allowing space for a tier 
 of dungeons under the sidewalk ; but in the rear the land sloped 
 away till the basement-floor rose above-ground. Its unpainted 
 walls were scorched to a rusty brown, and its sunken doors and 
 low windows, filled here and there with a dusky pane, were 
 cobwebbed and weather-stained, giving the whole building a 
 most uninviting and desolate appearance. A flaxen-haired boy, 
 in ragged " butternuts" and a Union cap, and an old man, in 
 gray regimentals, with a bent body and a limping gait, were 
 pacing to and fro before it, with muskets on their shoulders; but 
 no other soldiers were in sight. 
 
 " If Ben Butler knew that Richmond was defended by only 
 such men, how long would it be before he took it ?" I said, turn- 
 ing to the Judge. 
 
 " Several years. When these men give out our women will 
 fall in. Let Butler try it !" 
 
 Opening a door at the right, he led us into a large, high- 
 studded apartment, with a bare floor, and greasy brown walls 
 hung round with battle-scenes and cheap lithographs of the Rebel 
 leaders. Several officers in " Secession gray" were lounging 
 about this room, and one of them, a short, slightly-built, youth- 
 ful-looking man, rose as we entered, and, in a half-pompous, 
 half-obsequious way, said to Judge Ould,
 
 OUR LAST DAY IX DIXIE. 295 
 
 " Ah ! Colonel Ould, I am very glad to see you." 
 
 The Judge returned the greeting with a stateliness that was 
 in striking contrast with his usual frank and cordial manner, and 
 then introduced the officer to us as " Major Turner, Keeper of 
 the Libby." I had heard of him, and it was with some reluc- 
 tance that I took his proffered hand. However, I did take it, 
 and at the same time inquired, 
 
 " Are you related to Dr. Turner, of Fayetteville ?" 
 
 " No, sir. I am of the old Virginia family." (I never met 
 a negro-whipper nor a negro-trader who did not belong to that 
 family.) " Are you a North Carolinian ?" 
 
 " No, sir," 
 
 Before I could add another word the Judge said : 
 
 " No, Major ; these gentlemen hail from Georgia. They are 
 strangers here, and I'd thank you to show them over the prison." 
 
 " Certainly, Colonel, most certainly. I'll do it with great 
 pleasure." 
 
 And the little man bustled about, put on his cap, gave a few 
 orders to his subordinates, and then led us through another out- 
 side door, into the prison. He was a few rods in advance with 
 Colonel Jaquess, when Judge Ould said to me, 
 
 " Your prisoners have belied Turner. You see he's not the 
 hyena they've represented." 
 
 " I'm not so sure of that," I replied. " These cringing, mild- 
 mannered men are the worst sort of tyrants when they have the 
 power." 
 
 " But you don't think him a tyrant ?" 
 
 " I do. He's a coward and a bully, or I can't read English. 
 It is written all over his face." 
 
 The Judge laughed boisterously, and called out to Turner
 
 296 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 " I say, Major, our friend here is painting your portrait" 
 
 " I hope he is making a handsome man of me," said Turner, 
 in a sycophantic way. 
 
 " No, he isn't. He's drawing you to the life as if he had 
 known you for half a century. ' 
 
 We had entered a room about forty feet wide and a hundred 
 feet deep, with bare brick walls, a rough plank floor, and nar- 
 row, dingy windows, to whose sash only a few broken panes 
 were clinging. A row of tin wash-basins, and a wooden trough 
 which served as a bathing-tub, were at one end of it, and half a 
 dozen cheap stools and hard-bottomed chairs were littered about 
 the floor, but it had no other furniture. And this room, with 
 eight others of similar size and appointments, and three base- 
 ments floored with earth and filled with debris, compose the 
 famous Libby Prison, in which, for months together, thousands 
 of the best and bravest men that ever went to battle have been 
 allowed to rot and to starve. 
 
 At the date of our visit, not more than a hundred prisoners 
 were in the Libby, its contents having recently been emptied 
 into a worse sink in Georgia ; but almost constantly since the 
 war began, twelve and sometimes thirteen hundred of our offi- 
 cers have been hived within those desolate rooms and filthy cel- 
 lars, with a space of only ten feet by two allotted to each for 
 all the purposes of living ! 
 
 Overrun with vermin, perishing with cold, breathing a stifled, 
 tainted atmosphere, no space allowed them for rest by day, and 
 lying down at night " wormed and dovetailed together like fish 
 in a basket" their daily rations only two ounces of stale beef 
 and a small lump of hard corn-bread, and their lives the forfeit, 
 if they caught but one streak of God's blue sky through those
 
 OUR LAST DAY IN DIXIE. 207 
 
 filthy windows they have endured there all the horrors of the 
 middle-passage. My soul sickened as I looked on the scene of 
 their wretchedness. If the liberty we are fighting for were not 
 worth even so terrible a price if it were not cheaply purchased 
 even with the blood and agony of the many brave and true souls 
 who have gone into that foul den only to die, or to come out the 
 shadows of men living ghosts, condemned to walk the night 
 and to fade away before the breaking of the great day that is 
 coming who would not cry out for peace, for peace on any 
 terms ? 
 
 And while these thoughts were in my mind, the cringing, 
 foul-mouthed, brutal, contemptible ruffian who had caused all 
 this misery, stood within two paces of me ! I could have 
 reached out my hand, and, with half an effort, have crushed 
 
 him, and 1 did not do it ! Some invisible Power held my 
 
 arm, for murder was in my heart. 
 
 "This is where that Yankee devil, Sfreight, that raised hell 
 so among you down in Georgia, got out," said Turner, pausing 
 before a jut in the wall of the room. " A flue was here, you see, 
 but we've bricked it up. They took up the hearth, let them- 
 selves down into the basement, and then dug through the wall, 
 and sixty feet underground into the yard of a deserted build- 
 ing over the way. If you'd like to see the place, step down 
 with me." 
 
 " We would, Major. We'd be right glad ter," I replied, 
 adopting, at a hint from the Judge, the Georgia dialect. 
 
 We descended a rough plank stairway, and entered the 
 basement. It was a damp, mouldy, dismal place, and even 
 then in hot July weather as cold as an ice-house. What 
 must it have been in midwinter ! 
 13*
 
 208 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 The keeper led as along the wall to where Streight and his 
 party had broken out, and then said, 
 
 " It's three feet thick, but they went through it, and all the 
 way nnder the street, with only a few case-knives, a chisel, and 
 a dust-pan." 
 
 " Wai, they war smart. But, keeper, whar' wus yer eyes all 
 o' thet time ? Down our way, ef a man couldn't see twenty 
 Yankees a-wuckin' so fur six weeks, in a clar place like this 
 yere, we'd reckon he warn't fit ter 'tend a pen o' niggers." 
 
 The Judge whispered, " You're overdoing it. Hold in." 
 Turner winced like a struck hound, but, smothering his wrath, 
 smilingly replied : 
 
 " The place wasn't clear then. It was filled with straw and 
 rubbish. The Yankees covered the opening with it, and hid 
 away among it when any one was coming. I caught two of 
 them down here one day, but they pulled the wool over my 
 eyes, and I let them off with a few days in a dungeon. But 
 that fellow Streight would outwit the devil. He was the most 
 unruly customer I've had in the twenty months I've been here. 
 I put him in keep, time and again, but I never could cool him 
 down." 
 
 " Whar' is the keeps ?" I asked. " Ye's got lots o' them, 
 ha'n't ye ?" 
 
 " No only nine. Step this way, and I'll show you." 
 
 " Talk better English," said the Judge, as we fell a few paces 
 behind Turner, on our way to the front of the building. 
 " There are some schoolmasters in Georgia." 
 
 " Wai, thar' ha'n't, not in the part I come from." 
 
 The dungeons were low, close, dismal apartments, about 
 twelve feet square, boarded off from the remainder of the eel-
 
 OUK LAST DAT IN DIXIE. 299 
 
 lar, and lighted only by a narrow grating under the sidewalk. 
 Their floors were incrustod with filth, and their walls stained 
 and damp with the rain, which, in wet weather, had dripped 
 down from the street. 
 
 " And how many does ye commonly lodge yere, when yer 
 hotel's full?" Tasked. 
 
 " I have had twenty in each, but fifteen is about as many as 
 they comfortably hold." 
 
 "I reckon! And then the comfnt moughn't be much ter 
 brag on." 
 
 The keeper soon invited us to walk into the adjoining base- 
 ment. I was a few steps in advance of him, taking a straight 
 course to the entrance, when a sentinel, pacing to and fro in 
 the middle of the apartment, levelled his musket so as to bar 
 my way, saying, as he did so, 
 
 " Ye carn't pass yere, Sir. Ye must g\vo round by the 
 wall." 
 
 This drew my attention to the spot, and I noticed that a 
 space, about fifteen feet square, in the centre of the room, and 
 directly in front of the sentinel, had been recently dug up with 
 a spade. While in all other places the ground was trodden to 
 the hardness and color of granite, this spot seemed to be soft, 
 and had the reddish-yellow hue of the " sacred soil." Another 
 sentry was pacing to and fro on its other side, so that the place 
 was completely surrounded ! Why were they guarding it so 
 closely ? The reason flashed upon me, and I said to Turner : 
 
 "I say, how many barr'ls lies ye in tiuvr' ?" 
 
 " Enough to blow this shanty to ," he answered curtly. 
 
 " I reckon ! Put 'em thar' when thet feller Dahlgreen wus 
 a-gwine ter rescue 'em, the Yankees ?"
 
 300 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 " I reckon." 
 
 He said no more, but that was enough to reveal the black, 
 seething hell the Rebellion has brewed. Can there be any 
 peace with miscreants who thus deliberately plan the murder, 
 at one swoop, of hundreds of unarmed and innocent men ? 
 
 In this room, seated on the ground, or leaning idly again.^t 
 the walls, were about a dozen poor fellows who, the Judge told 
 us, were hostages, held for a similar number under sentence of 
 death, by our Government. Their dejected, homesick look, 
 and weary, listless manner, disclosed some of the horrors of 
 imprisonment. 
 
 " Let us go," I said to the Colouel ; " I have had enough of 
 this." 
 
 " No, you must see the up-stairs," said Turner". " It a'n't 
 so gloomy up there." 
 
 It was not so gloomy, for some little sunlight did come in 
 through the dingy windows ; but the few prisoners in the upper 
 rooms wore the same sad, disconsolate look as those in the 
 lower story. 
 
 " It is not hard fare, or close quarters, that kills men," said 
 Judge Ould to me ; " it is homesickness ; and the strongest 
 and the bravest succumb to it first." 
 
 In the sill of an attic window I found a Minie-ball. Prying 
 it out with my knife, and holding it up to Turner, I said : 
 
 " So ye keeps this room for a shootin'-gallery, does ye ?" 
 
 "Yes," he replied, laughing. " The boys practise once in a 
 while on the Yankees. You see, the rules forbid their coming 
 within three feet of the windows. Sometimes they do, and 
 then the boys take a pop at them." 
 
 " And sometimes hit 'em ? Hit many on 'em ?"
 
 OUR LAST DAT IN DIXIE. 301 
 
 " Yes, a heap." 
 
 We passed a long hour in the Libby, and then visited Castle 
 Thunder, and the hospitals for our wounded. It was five 
 o'clock when we bade the Judge a friendly good-by, and took 
 our seats in the ambulance. As we did so, he said to us, 
 
 " I have not taken your parole, Gentlemen. I shall trust to 
 your honor not to disclose any thing you have seeii or heard 
 that might operate against us in a military way." 
 
 " You may rely upon us, Judge ; and, some day, give us a 
 chance to return the courtesy and kindness you have shown to 
 us. We shall not forget it." 
 
 We arrived near the Union lines just as the sun was going 
 down. Captain Hatch, who had accompanied us, waved his 
 flag, as we halted in a grove of trees, and a young officer rode 
 over to us from the nearest picket-station. We dispatched him 
 to General Foster, for a pair of horses, and in half an hour en- 
 tered the General's tent. He pressed us to remain to dinner, 
 proposing to kill the fatted calf, " for these my sons were 
 dead, and are alive again, were lost, and are found." 
 
 We let him kill it (it tasted wonderfully like salt pork), and 
 in half an hour were on our way to General Butler's head- 
 quarters. 
 
 Here ended our last day in Dixie, and here, perhaps, should 
 end this book ; but the time has come when I can disclose my 
 real purpose in seeking an interview with the Rebel leader ; 
 and as such a disclosure may relieve me, in the minds of candid 
 men, from some of the aspersions cast upon my motives by 
 Rebel sympathizers, I willingly make it. In making it, how- 
 ever, I wish to be understood as speaking only for myself. My
 
 302 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 companion, Colonel Jaquess, while he fully shared in my mo- 
 tives, and rightly estimated the objects I sought to accomplish, 
 had other, and, it may be, higher aims. And I wish also to 
 say, that to him attaches whatever credit is due to any one for 
 the conception and execution of this " mission." While I love 
 my country as well as any man, and in this enterprise cheer- 
 fully perilled my life to serve it, I was only his co-worker : I 
 should not have undertaken it alone. 
 
 No reader of this book is so young as not to remember, that, 
 between the 1st of June and the 1st of August last, a Peace 
 simoom swept over the country, throwing dust into the people's 
 eyes, and threatening to bury the nation in disunion. All at 
 once the North grew tired of the war. It began to count the 
 money and the blood it had cost, and to overlook the great 
 principles for which it was waged. Men of all shades of politic 
 cal opinion radical Republicans, as well as honest Democrats 
 cried out for concession, compromise, armistice, for any thing 
 to end the war, any thing but disunion. To that the North 
 would not consent, and peace I knew could not be had without 
 it I knew that, because on the 16th of June, Jeff. Davis had 
 said to a prominent Southerner, that he would negotiate only 
 on the basis of Southern Independence, and that declaration 
 had come to me only five days after it was made. 
 
 The people, therefore, were under a delusion. They were 
 crying out for peace when there was no peace, when there 
 could be no peace consistent with the interest and security of 
 the country. The result of this delusion, were it not dispelled, 
 would be that the Chicago Convention, or some other conven- 
 tion, would nominate a man pledged to peace, but willing to con- 
 cede Southern independence, and on that tide of popular frenzy
 
 OUR LAST DAY IN DIXIE. 303 
 
 he would sail into the presidency. Then the deluded people 
 would learn, too late, that peace meant only disunion. They 
 would learn it too late, because power would then be in the 
 hands of a Peace Congress and a Peace President, and it re- 
 quired no spirit of prophecy to predict what such an Adminis- 
 tration would do. It would make peace on the best terms it 
 could get ; and the best terms it could get were Disunion and 
 Southern independence. 
 
 The Peace epidemic could be stayed, and the consequent 
 danger to the country averted, it seemed to me, only by securing 
 in a tangible form, and before a trustworthy witness, the ulti- 
 matum of the Rebel President. That ultimatum, spread far 
 and wide, would convince every honest Northern man that war 
 was the only road to lasting peace. 
 
 To get that ultimatum, and to give it to the four winds of 
 heaven, were my real objects in going to Richmond. 
 
 I did not shut my eyes to the possibility of our paving the 
 way for negotiations that might end in peace, nor my ears to 
 the blessings a grateful nation would shower on us, if our visit 
 had such a result ; but I did not expect these things. I expected 
 to be smeared from head to foot with Copperhead slime, to be 
 called a knight-errant, a seeker after notoriety, an abortive 
 negotiator, and a meddlesome volunteer diplomatist ; but I ex- 
 pected also, if a good Providence spared our lives, and my pen 
 did not forget the English language, to be able to tell the North 
 the truth; and I knew that 'the Truth would stay the Peace 
 epidemic, and kill the Peace party. And by the blessing of 
 God, and the help of the devil, it did do that. The devil 
 helped ; for he inspired Mr. Benjamin's circular, and that 
 forced home the bolt we had driven, and shivered the Peace
 
 304 DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 
 
 party into a million of fragments, every fragment now a good 
 War man, until the old flag shall float again all over the 
 country. 
 
 It' we accomplished this, our mountain did not bring forth a 
 mouse our " mission to Richmond" was not a failure. 
 
 It was a difficult enterprise. At the outset it seemed well- 
 nigh impossible to gain access to Mr. Davis ; but we finally did 
 gain it, and we gained it without official aid. Mr. Lincoln did 
 not assist us. He gave us a pass through the army-lines, 
 stated on what terms he would grant amnesty to the rebels, 
 and said, " Good-bye, good luck to you," when we went away ; 
 and that was all he did. 
 
 It was also a hazardous enterprise, no holiday adventure, 
 no pastime for boys. It was sober, serious, dangerous work, 
 and work for men, for cool, earnest, determined men, who relied 
 on God, who thought more of their object than of their lives, 
 and who, for truth and their country, were ready to meet the 
 prison or the scaffold. 
 
 If any one doubts this, let him call to mind what we had to 
 accomplish. We had to penetrate an enemy's lines, to enter a 
 besieged city, to tell home truths to the desperate, unscrupulous 
 leaders of the foulest rebellion the world has ever known, and 
 to draw from those leaders deep, adroit, and wary as they are, 
 their real plans and purposes. And all this we had to do with- 
 out any official safeguard, while entirely in their power, and 
 while known to be their earnest and,active enemies. One false 
 step, one unguarded word, one untoward event, would have 
 consigned us to Castle Thunder, or the gallows. 
 
 Can any one believe that men who undertake such work, are 
 mere lovers of adventure, or seekers of notoriety ? If any one
 
 DUE LAST DAY IN DIXIE. 305 
 
 does believe it, let him pardon me, if I say that he knows little 
 of human nature, and nothing of human history. 
 
 I am goaded to these remarks by the strictures of the Cop- 
 perhead press, bat I make them in no spirit of boasting. God 
 forbid that I should boast of any thing we did ! For we did 
 nothing. Unseen influences prompted us, unseen friends 
 strengthened us, unseen powers were all about our way. We 
 felt their presence as if they had been living men ; and had we 
 been atheists, our experience would have convinced us that 
 there is a GOD, and that He means that all men, everywhere, 
 shall be free. 
 
 THE END.
 
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 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, LOS ANGELES 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below 
 
 MAY 2 3 1945 
 OUN6 1 
 
 I 4M 13 1355 
 JA H 16195* 
 
 25198ff 
 
 APR 111963 
 WAY 3 01969 
 
 ISTEBLIBBiW LOiS 
 MAY 1 6 1969 
 
 I B0 WEEKS FROM DATE 01 
 
 NOV 2 7 1981 
 
 flBD tD-URI 
 
 i AUG ^ ^^^i 
 
 AUG 2 4 1990 
 
 UNIVERSITY of CALIFORNIA 
 
 AT 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 LIBRARY
 
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