 Section four of Famous Adventures and Prison Escapes of the Civil War, by Various. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Section four, War Diary of a Union Woman in the South, Part Four. May 9. This morning the doorbell rang a startling peal. Martha, being busy, I answered it, and orderly in gray, stood with an official envelope in his hand. Who lives here? Mr. L. Very imperiously. Which Mr. L? Mr. H. L. Is he here? No. Where can he be found? At the office of Deputy Blank. I'm not going there. This is an order from General Pemberton for you to move out of this house in two hours. He has selected it for headquarters. He will furnish you with wagons. Will he furnish another house also? Of course not. Has the owner been consulted? He has not. That is of no consequence. It has been taken. Take this order. I shall not take it, and I shall not move, as there is no place to move to but the street. Then I'll take it to Mr. L. Very well. Do so. As soon as Mr. Invertein walked off, I locked, bolted, and borrowed every door and window. In ten minutes H came home. Hold the fort till I've seen the owner and the general, he said, as I locked him out. Then Dr. B's remark in New Orleans about the effect of Dr. C's fine presence on the Confederate officials there came to mind. They are just the people to be influenced in that way, I thought. I look rather shabby now. I will dress. I made an elaborate toilette. Put on the best and most becoming dress I had, the richest lace, the handsomest ornaments, taking care that all should be appropriate to a morning visit. Dressed my hair in the statelyest braids, and took a seat in the parlor ready for the fray. H came to the window and said, Landlord says, keep them out. Wouldn't let them have his house at any price. He is just writing to the country and can't help us now. Now I'm to see Major C, who sent the order. Next came an officer, banged at the door till tired, and walked away. Then the orderly came again and beat the door. Same result. Next four officers with bundles and lunch baskets followed by a wagon load of furniture. They went round the house, cried every door, peeped in the windows, pounded and wrapped while I watched them through the blind slats. Presently the fattest one, a real Falstaffian man, came back to the front door and rang a thundering peal. I saw the chance for fun and for putting on their own grand eloquent style. Stealing on tiptoe to the door I turned the key and bolt noiselessly, and suddenly threw wide back the door and appeared behind it. He had been leaning on it and nearly pitched forward with an, oh, what's this? Then seeing me as he straightened up, ah, madam, almost stuttering from surprise and anger. Are you aware I had the right to break down this door if you hadn't opened it? That would have made no difference to me. I'm not the owner. You or the landlord would pay the bill for the repairs. Why didn't you open the door? Have I not done so as soon as you rung? A lady does not open the door to men who beat on it. Gentlemen usually ring. I thought it might be stragglers pounding. Well, growing much blander, we are going to send you some wagons to move. You must get ready. With pleasure, if you have selected a house for me. This is too large. It does not suit me. No, I didn't find the house for you. You surely don't expect me to run about in the dust and shelling to look for it, and Mr. L. is too busy. Well, madam, then we must share the house. We will take the lower floor. I prefer to keep the lower floor myself. You surely don't expect me to go up and down stairs when you are so light and to more able to do it. He walked through the hall trying the doors. What room is that? The parlor. And this? My bedroom. And this? The dining-room. Well, madam, we'll find you a house and then come and take this. Thank you, Colonel. I shall be ready when you find the house. Good morning, sir. I heard him say as he ran down the steps. We must go back, Captain. You see, I didn't know they were this kind of people. Of course, the orderly had lied in the beginning to scare me, for General P. is too far away from Vicksburg to send an order. He is looking about for General Grant. We are told he has gone out to meet Johnston, and together they expect to annihilate Grant's army and free Vicksburg forever. There is now a general hospital opposite this house and a smallpox hospital next door. War, famine, pestilence, and fire surround us. Every day the band plays in front of the smallpox hospital. I wonder if it is to keep up their spirits. One would suppose quiet would be more cheering. May 17. Hardly was our scanty breakfast over this morning when a hurried ring drew us both to the door. Mr. J., one of H's assistants, stood there in high excitement. Well, Mr. L., they are upon us. The Yankees will be here by this evening. What do you mean? That Pemberton has been whipped at Baker's Creek and Big Black and his army are running back here as fast as they can come and the Yankees after them in such numbers nothing can stop them. Hasn't Pemberton acted like a fool? He may not be the only one to blame, replied H. They are coming along the Big B Road and my folks went down there to be safe, you know. Now they are right in it. I hear you can't see the armies for the dust. Never was anything else known like it. But I must go and try to bring my folks back here. What struck us both was the absence of that concern to be expected and a sort of relief or suppressed pleasure. After twelve some worn-out-looking men sat down under the window. What is the news, I required. Retreat, retreat, they said in broken English. They were Louisiana Akkadians. About three o'clock the rush began. I shall never forget that woeful sight of a beaten demoralized army that came rushing back humanity in the last throes of endurance. One hollow-eyed ragged foot sore, bloody, the men limped along unarmed but followed by siege guns, ambulances, gun carriages, and wagons in aimless confusion. At twilight two or three bands on the courthouse hill and other points began playing Dixie, Bonnie Blue Flag, and so on, and drums began to beat all about. I suppose they were rallying the scattered army. May twenty-eight. Since that day the regular siege has continued, we are utterly cut off from the world surrounded by a circle of fire. Would it be wise like the scorpion to sting ourselves to death? The fiery shower of shells goes on day and night. H's occupation, of course, is gone. His office closed. Every man has to carry a pass in his pocket. People do nothing but eat what they can get, sleep when they can, and dodge the shells. There are three intervals when the shelling stops, either for the guns to cool or for the gunner's meals, I suppose, about eight in the morning and the same in the evening and at noon. And that time we have both to prepare and eat hours. Clothing cannot be washed or anything else done. On the nineteenth and twenty-second, when the assaults were made on the lines, I watched the soldiers cooking on the green opposite. The half-spent balls coming all the way from those lines were flying so thick that they were obliged to dodge at every turn. At all the caves I could see from my high perch, people were sitting, eating their poor suppers at the cave doors, ready to plunge in again. As the first shell again flew, they dived, and not a human being was visible. The sharp crackle of the musket-refiring was a strong contrast to the screams of the bombs. I think all the dogs and cats must be killed or starved. We don't see any more pitiful animals prowling around. The cellar is so damp and musty, the bedding has to be carried out and laid in the sun every day with the forecast that it may be demolished at any moment. The confinement is dreadful. To sit and listen as if waiting for death in a horrible manner would drive me insane. I don't know what others do, but we read when I am not scribbling in this. H. borrowed somewhere a lot of Dickens novels, and we reread them by the dim light in the cellar. When the shelling abates, H. goes to walk about a little or get the daily citizen, which is still issuing a tiny sheet at twenty-five and fifty cents a copy. It is, of course, but a rehash of speculations which amuses a half hour. Today he heard, while out, that expert swimmers are crossing the Mississippi on logs at night to bring and carry news to Johnston. I am so tired of cornbread, which I never liked, that I eat it with tears in my eyes. We are lucky to get a quart of milk daily from a family near, who have a cow they hourly expect to be killed. I send five dollars to market each morning, and it buys a small piece of mule meat. Rice and milk is my main food. I can't eat the mule meat. We boil the rice and eat it cold with milk for supper. Martha runs the gauntlet to buy the meat and milk once a day in a perfect terror. The shells seem to have many different names. I hear the soldiers say, that's a mortar shell. There goes a parrot. That's a rifle shell. They are all equally terrible. A pair of chimney swallows have built in the parlor chimney. The concussion of the house often sends down parts of their nest, which they patiently pick up and re-ascend with. Friday, June 5, in the cellar. Wednesday evening H said he must take a little walk and went while the shelling had stopped. He never leaves me alone for long, and when an hour had passed without his return, I grew anxious, and when two hours and the shelling had grown terrific, I momentarily expected to see his mangled body. All sorts of horrors fill the mind now, and I am so desolate here, not a friend. When he came, he said that passing a cave where there were no others near, he heard groans and found a shell had struck above and caused the cave to fall in, on the man within. He could not extricate him alone and had to get help and dig him out. He was badly hurt, but not mortally, and I felt fairly sick from the suspense. Yesterday morning a note was brought H from a bachelor uncle out in the trenches, saying he had been taken ill with fever, and could we receive him if he came. H sent to tell him to come, and I arranged one of the parlors as a dressing room for him, and laid a pallet that he could move back and forth to the cellar. He did not arrive, however, it is our custom in the evening to sit in the front room a little while in the dark, with matches and candle held ready in hand, and watch the shells, whose course at night, is shown by the fuse. H was at the window, and suddenly sprang up, crying, Run! Where? Back! I started through the back room. H after me. I was just within the door, when the crash came that threw me to the floor. It was the most appalling sensation I had ever known, worse than an earthquake, which I have also experienced. Shaken and deafened I picked myself up. H had struck a light to find me. I lighted one, and the smoke guided us to the parlor I had fixed for Uncle Jay. The candles were useless in the dense smoke, and it was many minutes before we could see. Then we found the entire side of the room torn out. The soldiers who had rushed in said, this is an eighty-pound parrot. It had entered through the front, burst on the pallet bed, which was in tatters. The toilet service and everything else in the room smashed. The soldiers assisted H to board up the break with planks to keep out prowlers, and we went to bed in the cellar as usual. This morning the yard is partially plowed by a couple that fell there in the night. I think this house, so large and prominent from the river, is perhaps taken for headquarters and specially shelled. As we descend at night to the lower regions, I think of the evening hymn that Grandmother taught me when a child. Lord, keep us safe this night, secure from all our fears. May angels guard us while we sleep, till morning light appears. Surely, if there are heavenly guardians, we need them now. June 7, in the cellar. There is one thing I feel especially grateful for, that amid these horrors we have been spared that of suffering for water. The weather has been dry a long time, and we hear of others dipping up the water from ditches and mud-holes. This place has two large underground cisterns of good cool water, and every night in my subterranean dressing room a tub of cold water is the nerve calmer that sends me to sleep in spite of the roar. One cistern I had to give up to the soldiers who swarm about like hungry animals seeking something to devour. Poor fellows, my heart bleeds for them. They have nothing but spoiled greasy bacon and bread made of musty pea-flower, and but little of that. The sick ones can't bolt it. They come into the kitchen when Martha puts the pan of cornbread in the stove and beg for the bowl she mixed it in. They shake up the scrapings with water, put in their bacon, and boil the mixture into a kind of soup which is easier to swallow than pea-bread. When I happen in, they look so ashamed of their poor clothes. I know we save the lives of two by giving a few meals. Today, one crawled on the gallery to lie in the breeze. He looked as if shells had lost their terrors for his dumb and famished misery. I've taught Martha to make first-rate cornmeal gruel, because I can eat meal easier that way than in ho-cake, and I fixed him a saucer full, put milk and sugar and nutmeg—I've actually got nutmeg—when he ate it, the tears ran from his eyes. Oh, madam, there was never anything so good. I shall get better. June 9 The churches are a great resort for those who have no caves. People fancy they are not shelled so much, and they are substantial and the pews good to sleep in. We had to leave this house last night. They were shelling our quarters so heavily. The night before, Martha forsook the cellar for a church. We went to H's office, which was comparatively quiet last night. H carried the bank box, I the case of matches, Martha the blankets and pillows keeping an eye on the shells. We slept on piles of old newspapers. In the streets the roar seems so much more confusing. I feel sure I shall run right in the way of a shell. They seem to have five different sounds, from the second of throwing them to the hollow echo wandering among the hills, and that sounds the most blood curdling of all. June 13 Shell burst just over the roof this morning. Pieces tore through both floors down into the dining room. The entire ceiling of that room fell in a mass. We had just left it. Every piece of crockery on the table was smashed up. The daily citizen today is a foot and a half long and six inches wide. It has a long letter from a federal officer, P.P. Hill, who was on the gun boat Cincinnati that was sunk May 27. Says it was found in his floating trunk. The editorial says, the utmost confidence is felt that we can maintain our position until sucker comes from outside. The undaunted Johnston is at hand. June 18 Today the citizen is printed on wallpaper. Therefore has grown a little in size. It says, but a few days more and Johnston will be here. And also that Kirby Smith has driven banks from Port Hudson, and that the enemy are throwing incendiary shells in. June 20 The gentleman who took our cave came yesterday to invite us to come to it because he said, it's going to be very bad today. I don't know why he thought so. We went and found his own and another family in it. Sat outside and watched the shells till we concluded the cellar was as good a place as that hillside. I fear the want of good food is breaking down age. I know from my own feelings of weakness, but mine is not an American constitution and has a recuperative power that his has not. June 21 I had gone upstairs today during the interregnum to enjoy a rest on my bed and read the reliable items in the citizen when a shell burst right outside the window in front of me. Pieces flew in, striking all around me, tearing down masses of plaster that came tumbling over me. When H. rushed in I was crawling out of the plaster, digging it out of my eyes and hair. When he picked up a piece as large as a saucer beside my pillow I realized my narrow escape. The window frame began to smoke and we saw the house was on fire. H. ran for a hatchet and I for water and we put it out. Another shell came crashing near and I snatched up my comb and brush and ran down here. It has taken all the afternoon to get the plaster out of my hair, for my hands were very shaky. June 25 A horrible day, the most horrible yet to me because I've lost my nerve. We were all in the cellar when a shell came tearing through the roof, burst upstairs, tore up that room and the pieces coming through both floors down into the cellar. One of them tore open the leg of H's phantom looms. This was tangible proof the cellar was no place of protection from them. On the heels of this came Mr. J. to tell us that young Mrs. P. had had her thigh bone crushed. When Martha went for the milk she came back horror stricken to tell us the black girl there had her arm taken off by a shell. For the first time I quailed, I do not think people who are physically brave deserve much credit for it. It is a matter of nerves. In this way I am constitutionally brave and seldom think of danger till it is over and death has not the terrors for me, it has for some others. Every night I had laying down expecting death and every morning rose to the same prospect without being unnerved. It was for age I trembled, but now I first seemed to realize that something worse than death might come. I might be crippled and not killed. Life without all one's powers and limbs was a thought that broke down my courage. I said to age you must get me out of this horrible place. I cannot stay. I know I shall be crippled. Now the regret comes that I've lost control because age is worried and has lost his composure because my coolness has broken down. July one. Some months ago thinking it might be useful I obtained from the consul of my birthplace by sending to another town a passport for foreign parts. Age said if we went out to the lines we might be permitted to get through on that. So we packed the trunks, got a carriage, and on the 30th drove out there. General B offered us seats in his tent. The rifle bullets were whizzing so zip zip from the sharp suitors on the federal lines that involuntarily I moved on my chair. He said, don't be alarmed, you are out of range. They are firing at our mules yonder. His horse, tied by the tent door, was quivering all over the most intense exhibition of fear I'd ever seen in an animal. General B sent out a flag of truce to the federal headquarters, and while we waited, wrote on a piece of silk paper a few words. Then he said, my wife is in Tennessee. If you get through the lines, send her this. They will search you, so I will put it in this toothpick. He crammed the silk paper into a quilled toothpick and handed it to age. It was completely concealed. The flag of truce officer came back, flushed, and angry. General Grant says no human being shall pass out of Vicksburg, but the lady may feel sure danger will soon be over. Vicksburg will surrender on the fourth. Is that so, General, inquired age? Are arrangements for surrender made? We know nothing of the kind Vicksburg will not surrender. Those were General Grant's exact words, sir, said the flag officer. Of course it is nothing but their brag. We went back, sadly enough, but today age says he will cross the river to General Porter's lines and try there. I shall not be disappointed. July 3. Age was going to headquarters for the requisite pass, and he saw General Pemberton crawling out of a cave, for the shelling had been as hot as ever. He got the pass but did not act with his usual caution, for the boat he secured was a miserable, leaky one, a mere trough. Leaving Martha in charge, we went to the river, had our trunks put in the boat and embarked, but the boat became utterly unmanageable and began to fill with water rapidly. Age saw that we could not cross in it and turned to come back, but in spite of that the pickets at the battery fired on us. Age raised the white flag he had, and yet they fired again, and I gave a cry of horror that none of these dreadful things had run from me. I thought Age was struck. When we landed, Age showed the pass and said that the officer had told him the battery would be notified we were to cross. The officer apologized and said they were not notified. He furnished a cart to get home, and today we are down in the cellar again, shells flying as thick as ever, provisions so nearly gone, except the hog's head of sugar, that a few more days will bring us to starvation indeed. Martha says rats are hanging dressed in the market for sale with mule meat. There is nothing else. The officer at the battery told me he had eaten one yesterday. We have tried to leave this toffet and failed, and if the siege continues I must summon that higher kind of courage, moral courage, to subdue my fears of possible mutilation. July 4. It is evening. All is still. Silence and night are once more united. I can sit at the table in the parlor and write, two candles are lighted. I would like a dozen. We have had wheat supper and wheat bread once more. Age is leaning back in the rocking chair. He says, gee, it seems to me I can hear the silence and feel it too. It wraps me like a soft garment. How else can I express this peace? But I must write the history of the last twenty-four hours. About five yesterday afternoon Mr. J. H.'s assistant, who, having no wife to keep him in, dodges about at every change and brings us the news, came to age and said, Mr. L., you must both come to our cave tonight. I hear that tonight the shelling is to surpass everything yet. An assault will be made in front and rear. You know we have a double cave. There is room for you in mine, and mother and sister will make a place for Mrs. L. Come right up, the ball will open about seven. We got ready, shut up the house, told Martha to go to the church again if she preferred it to the cellar, and walked up to Mr. J.'s. When supper was eaten, all secure, and ladies in their cave, night toilet, it was just six, and we crossed the street to the cave opposite. As I crossed, a mighty shell flew screaming right over my head. It was the last throne into Vicksburg. We lay on our pallets, waiting for the expected roar, but no sound came except the chatter from neighboring caves, and at last we dropped asleep. I woke at dawn, stiff. A draft from the funnel-shaped opening had been blowing on me all night. Everyone was expressing surprise at the quiet. We started for home, and met the editor of the Daily Citizen. H. said, "'This is strangely quiet, Mr. L.' Ah, sir, shaking his head gloomily, I'm afraid the last shell has been thrown into Vicksburg. Why do you fear so? It is surrender. At six this evening a man went down to the river and blew a truce signal. The shelling stopped at once. When I entered the kitchen, a soldier was there, waiting for the bowl of scrapings. They took turns for it. Good morning, madam.' He said, "'We won't bother you much longer. We can't thank you enough for letting us come. Forgetting this soup boiled has helped some of us to keep alive. But now all this is over. Is it true about the surrender? Yes, we have had no official notice, but they are paroling out at the lines now, and the men at Vicksburg will never forgive Pemberton, an old granny. A child would have known better than to shut men up in this cursed trap to starve to death like useless bourbon. His eyes flashed with an insane fire as he spoke. Haven't I seen my friends carried out three or four in a box that had died of starvation? Nothing else, madam, starve to death, because we had a fool for a general. Don't you think you're rather hard on Pemberton? He thought it his duty to wait for Johnston. Some people may excuse him, ma'am, but we'll curse him to our dying day. Anyhow, you'll see the blue coats directly. Breakfast dispatched, we went on the upper gallery. What I expected to see was files of soldiers marching in, but it was very different. The street was deserted, saved by a few people carrying home bedding from their caves. Among these was a group taking home a little creature, born in a cave a few days previous, and its one looking mother. About eleven o'clock a soldier in blue came sauntering along, who looked about curiously. Then two more followed him, and then another. Age, do you think these can be the federal soldiers? Why yes, here comes more up the street. In a group appeared on the courthouse hill, and the flag began slowly to rise to the top of the staff. As the breeze caught it and it sprang out like a living thing, exultant age drew a long breath of contentment. Now I feel once more at home in my own country. In an hour more a grand rush of people setting toward the river began, foremost among them the gentleman who took our cave. All were flying as if for life. What can this mean, age, of the populace turning out to greet the despised conquerors? Oh, said age, springing up, look, it is the boats coming round the bend. Truly it was a fine spectacle to see that fleet of transports sweep around the curve and anchor in the teeth of the battery so lately vomiting fire. Presently Mr. J passed and called, aren't you coming, Mr. L? There's provisions on those boats, coffee, and flour. First come, first served, you know. Yes, I'll be there pretty soon, replied age. But now the newcomers began to swarm into our yard, asking age if he had coins to sell for greenbacks. He had some, and a little bartering went on with the new greenbacks. Age went out to get provisions. When he returned a Confederate officer came with him. Age went to the box of Confederate money and took out four hundred dollars, and the officer took off his watch, a plain gold one, and laid it on the table, saying, we have not been paid, and I must get home to my family. Age added a five-dollar greenback to the pile, and wished him a happy meeting. The townsfolk continued to dash through the streets with their arms full, canned goods predominating. Toward five Mr. J passed again. Keep on the lookout, he said, the army of occupation is coming along. And in a few minutes the head of the column appeared. What a contrast to the suffering creatures we had seen so long were these stalwart, well-fed men so splendidly set up and accoutered. Sleek horses, polished arms, bright plumes, this was the pride and panoply of war. Civilization, discipline, and order seemed to enter with the measured tramp of those marching columns, and the heart turned with throbs of added pity to the worn men in grey who were being blindly dashed against this embodiment of modern power. And now this silence that is golden indeed is over all, and my limbs are unhurt, and I suppose if I were a Catholic in my fervent gratitude I should hide me with a rich offering to the shrine of Our Lady of Mercy. July 7. I did not enjoy quiet long. First came Martha, who announced her intention of going to search for her sons, as she was free now. I was hardly able to stand since the severe cold taken in the cave that night, but she would not wait a day. A colored woman came in and said she had asked her mistress for wages, and she had turned her out, wanting a place. I was in no condition to stand upon ceremony then, and engaged her at once, but here today that I am thoroughly pulled to pieces in Vicksburg circles. There is no more salvation for me. Next came two federal officers and wanted rooms and board. To have some protection was a necessity. Both armies were still in town, and for the past three days every Confederate soldier I see has a cracker in his hand. There is hardly any water in town, no prospect of rain, and the soldiers have emptied one cistern in the yard already and begun on the other. The Colonel put a guard at the gate to limit the water given. Next came the owner of the house and said we must move. He wanted the house, but it was so big he'd just bring his family in. We could stay till we got one. They brought boarders with them, two, and children. Men are at work all over the house, shoveling up the plaster before repairing. Upstairs they are pouring it by bucketfuls through the windows. Colonel D brought work for age to help with from headquarters, making out the paroles and copying them has taken so long they wanted help. I am surprised and mortified to find that two-thirds of all the men who have signed made their mark. They cannot write. I never thought there was so much ignorance in the South. One of the men at headquarters took a fancy to age and presented him with a portfolio that he said he had captured when the Confederates evacuated their headquarters at Jackson. It contained mostly family letters written in French and a few official papers. Among them was the following note which I will copy here and file away the original as a curiosity when the war is over. Headquarters, Department of Tennessee, Tupelo, August 6, 1862. Captain, the Major General Commanding directs me to say that he submits it all together to your own discretion whether you make the attempt to capture General Grant or not. While the exploit would be very brilliant if successful, you must remember that failure would be disastrous to you and your men. The General commands your activity and energy and expects you to continue to show these qualities. I am very respectfully your obedient servant, Thomas L. Snead, A.A.G. Captain George L. Baxter, commanding Beauregard Scouts. I would like to know if he tried it and came to grief or abandoned the project. As letters can now get through to New Orleans, I wrote there. July 14, moved yesterday into a house I call Fair Rosamonds Power because it would take a clue of thread to go through it without getting lost. One room has five doors opening into the house and no windows. The stairs are like ladders and the colonel's contraband valid won't risk his neck taking down water but pours it through the windows on people's heads. We shan't stay in it. Men are at work closing up the caves. They had become hiding places for trash. Vicksburg is now like one vast hospital. Everyone is getting sick or is sick. My cook was taken today with Beauregard's fever and nothing but will keeps me up. July 23, we moved again two days ago. August 20, sitting in my easy chair today looking out upon a grassy slope of the hill in the rear of this house, I have looked over this journal as if in a dream for since the last date sickness and sorrow have been with me, I feel as if an angry wave had passed over me bearing away strength and treasure for on one day there came to me from New Orleans the news of Mrs. Bea's death, a friend whom no tie of blood could have made nearer. The next day my beautiful boy ended his brief life of 10 days and died in my arms. My own illness caused him to perish. The fatal cold in the cave was the last straw that broke down strength. The colonel's sweet wife has come and I do not lack now for womanly companionship. She says that with such a prenatal experience perhaps death was the best for him. I try to think so and to be glad that age has not been ill though I see the effects. This book is exhausted and I wonder whether there will be more adventures by flood and field to cause me to begin another. End of section four. Section five of famous adventures and prison escapes of the Civil War by various, this LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Section five, The Locomotive Chase and Georgia by William Pittenger. The railroad raid to Georgia in the spring of 1862 has always been considered to rank high among the striking and novel incidents of the Civil War. At that time General O. M. Mitchell under whose authority it was organized commanded Union forces in Middle Tennessee consisting of a division of Buell's army. The Confederates were concentrating at Corinth, Mississippi and Grant and Buell were advancing by different routes toward that point. Mitchell's orders required him to protect Nashville and the country around but allowed him great latitude in the disposition of his division which with attachments and garrisons numbered nearly 17,000 men. His attention had long been strongly turned toward the liberation of East Tennessee which he knew that President Lincoln also earnestly desired and which would if achieved strike a most damaging blow at the resources of the rebellion. A Union army once in possession of East Tennessee would have the inesitable advantage found nowhere else in the South of operating in the midst of a friendly population and having at hand abundant supplies of all kinds. Mitchell had no reason to believe that Corinth would detain the Union armies much longer than Fort Donaldson had done and was satisfied that as soon as that position had been captured the next movement would be eastward toward Chattanooga thus throwing his own division in advance. He determined therefore to press into the heart of the enemy's country as far as possible occupying strategical points before they were adequately defended and assured of speedy and powerful reinforcement. To this end his measures were vigorous and well chosen. On the 8th of April 1862 the day after the Battle of Pittsburgh landing of which however Mitchell had received no intelligence he marched swiftly southward from Shelbyville and seized Huntsville and Alabama on the 11th of April and then sent an attachment westward over the Memphis and Charleston railroad to open railway communication with the Union army at Pittsburgh landing. Another detachment commanded by Mitchell in person advanced on the same day 70 miles by rail directly into the enemy's territory arriving unchecked with 2000 men within 30 miles of Chattanooga in two hours time he could now reach that point the most important position in the west. Why did he not go on? The story of the railroad raid is the answer. The night before breaking camp at Shelbyville Mitchell sent an expedition secretly into the heart of Georgia to cut the railroad communications of Chattanooga to the south and east. The fortune of this attempt had a most important bearing upon his movements and will now be narrated. In the employ of General Buell was a spy named James J. Andrews who had rendered valuable services in the first year of the war and had secured the full competence of the Union commanders. In March 1862, Buell had sent him secretly with eight men to burn the bridges west of Chattanooga but the failure of expected cooperation defeated the plan and Andrews after visiting Atlanta and inspecting the whole of the enemy's lines in that vicinity and northward had returned ambitious to make another attempt. His plans for the second raid were submitted to Mitchell and on the eve of the movement from Shelbyville to Huntsville. Mitchell authorized him to take 24 men, secretly enter the enemy's territory and by means of capturing a train burn the bridges on the northern part of the Georgia State Railroad and also one on the East Tennessee Railroad where it approaches the Georgia State Line thus completely isolating Chattanooga which was virtually un-Garrisoned. The soldiers for this expedition of whom the rider was one were selected from the three Ohio regiments belonging to General J. W. Sills Brigade being simply told that they were wanted for secret and very dangerous service. So far as known, not a man chosen declined to the perilous honor. Our uniforms were exchanged for ordinary southern dress and all arms except revolvers were left in camp. On the 7th of April by the roadside about a mile east of Shelbyville in the late evening twilight we met our leader. Taking us a little away from the road he quietly placed before us the outlines of the romantic and adventurous plan which was to break into small detachments of three or four, journey eastward into the Cumberland Mountains, then work southward traveling by rail after we were well within the Confederate lines and finally the evening of the third day after the start meet Andrews at Marietta, Georgia more than 200 miles away. When questioned we were to profess ourselves Kentuckians going to join the southern army. On the journey we were a good deal annoyed by the swollen streams and the muddy roads consequent on three days of almost ceaseless rain. Andrews was led to believe that Mitchell's column would be inevitably delayed and as we were expected to destroy the bridges the very day that Huntsville was entered he took the responsibility of sending word to our different groups that our attempt would be postponed one day from Friday to Saturday, April 12th. This was a natural but a most lamentable error of judgment. One of the men detailed was belated and it did not join us at all. Two others were very soon captured by the enemy and though their true character was not detected they were forced into the southern army and two reached Marietta but failed to report at the rendezvous. Thus when we assembled very early in the morning in Andrews room at the Marietta hotel for final consultation before the blow was struck we were but 20 including our leader. All preliminary difficulties had been easily overcome and we were in good spirits but some serious obstacles have been revealed on our ride from Chattanooga to Marietta the previous evening. The railroad was found to be crowded with trains and many soldiers were among the passengers. Then the station, Big Shanti at which the capture was to be affected had recently been made a Confederate camp. To succeed in our enterprise it would be necessary first to capture the engine in a guarded camp with soldiers standing around as spectators and then to run it from one to two hundred miles through the enemy's country and to deceive or overpower all trains that should be met, a large contract for 20 men. Some of our party thought the chances of success so slight under existing circumstances that they urged the abandonment of the whole enterprise but Andrews declared his purpose to succeed or die offering to each man however the privilege of withdrawing from the attempt and offer no one was in the least disposed to accept. Final instructions were then given and we hurried to the ticket office in time for the northward abound mail train and purchased tickets for different stations along the line in the direction of Chattanooga. Our ride as passengers was but eight miles. We swept swiftly around the base of Kennesaw Mountain and soon saw the tents of the Confederate forces camped at Big Shanty, gleam white in the morning mist. Here we were to stop for breakfast and attempt the seizure of the train. The morning was raw and gloomy and a rain which fell all day and already begun. It was a painfully thrilling moment. We were but 20 with an army about us and a long and difficult road before us crowded with enemies. In an instant we were to throw off the disguise which had been our only protection and trust to our leaders genius and our own efforts for safety and success. Fortunately we had no time for giving away to reflections and conjectures which could only unfit us for the stern task ahead. When we stopped the conductor, the engineer and many of the passengers hurried to breakfast leaving the train unguarded. Now was the moment of action ascertaining that there was nothing to prevent a rapid start Andrews are two engineers, brown and night and the fireman hurried forward uncoupling a section of the train consisting of three empty baggage or boxcars the locomotive and the tender. The engineers and the fireman sprang into the cab of the engine while Andrews with hand on the rail and foot on the step waited to see that the remainder of the party had gained entrance into the rear boxcar. This seemed difficult and slow though it really consumed but a few seconds for the car stood on a considerable bank and the first who came were pitched in by their comrades while those in turn dragged in the others and the door was instantly closed. A sentinel with musket in hand stood not a dozen feet from the engine watching the whole proceeding but before he or any of the soldiers or guards around could make up their minds to interfere all was done and Andrews with a nod to his engineer stepped on board. The valve was pulled wide open and for a moment the wheels slipped round in rapid ineffective revolutions. Then with a bound that jerked the soldiers in the boxcar from their feet the little train darted away leaving the camp and the station in the wildest uproar and confusion. The first step of the enterprise was triumphantly accomplished. According to the timetable of which Andrews had secured a copy there were two trains to be met. These presented no serious hindrance to our attaining high speed but we could tell just where to expect them. There was also a local freight not down on the timetable but which could not be far distant. Any danger of collision with it would be avoided by running according to the schedule of the captured train until it was fast. Then at the highest possible speed we could run to the Ostinaga and Chickamauga bridges lay them in ashes and pass on through Chattanooga to Mitchell at Huntsville or wherever eastward of that point he might be found arriving long before the close of the day. It was a brilliant prospect and so far as human estimates can determine it would have been realized had the day been Friday instead of Saturday. Friday every train had been on time, the day was dry, the road in perfect order. Now the road was in disorder every train far behind time and two extras were approaching us but of these unfavorable conditions we knew nothing and pressed confidently forward. We stopped frequently and at one point tore up the track cut telegraph wires and loaded on cross skies to be used in bridge burning. Wood and water were taken without difficulty Andrews very coolly telling the story to which he adhered throughout the run namely that he was one of General Beauregard's officers running an impressed powder train through to that commander at Corinth. We had no good instruments for track racing as we had intended rather to depend upon fire but the amount of time spent taking up a rail was not material at this stage of our journey as we easily kept on the time of our captured train. There was a wonderful exhilaration in passing swiftly by towns and stations through the heart of an enemy's country in this manner. It possessed just enough of the spice of danger in this part of the run to render it thoroughly enjoyable. The slightest accident to our engine however or a miscarriage in any part of our program would have completely changed the conditions. At Etowah we found the Yonah an old locomotive owned by an iron company standing with steam up but not wishing to alarm the enemy till the local freight had been safely met we left it unharmed. Kingston, 30 miles from the starting point was safely reached. A train from Rome, Georgia on a branch road had just arrived and was waiting for the morning mail, our train. We learned that the local freight would soon come also and taking the side track waited for it. When it arrived however Andrew saw to his surprise and chagrin that it bore a red flag indicating another train not far behind. Stepping over to the conductor he boldly asked what does it mean that the road is blocked in this manner when I have orders to take this powder to Beauregard without a minutes delay? The answer was interesting but not reassuring. Mitchell has captured Huntsville and is said to be coming to Chattanooga and we are getting everything out of there. He was asked by Andrews to pull his train a long way down the track out of the way and promptly obeyed. It seemed an exceedingly long time before the expected extra arrived and when it did come it bore another red flag. The reason given was that the local being too great for one engine had been made up in two sections and the second section would doubtless be along in a short time. This was terribly vexatious yet there seemed nothing to do but to wait. To start out between the sections of an extra train would be to court destruction. There were already three trains around us and their many passengers and others were all growing very curious about the mysterious train manned by strangers which had arrived on the time of the morning mail. For an hour and five minutes from the time of arrival at Kingston we remained in this most critical position. The 16 of us who were shut up tightly in a boxcar personating Beauregard's ammunition, hearing sounds outside but unable to distinguish words had perhaps the most trying position. Andrews sent us by one of the engineers a cautious warning to be ready to fight in case the uneasiness of the crowd around led them to make any investigation while he himself kept near the station to prevent the sending off of any alarming telegram. So intolerable was our suspense that the order for a deadly conflict would have been felt as a relief but the assurance of Andrews quieted the crowd until the whistle of the expected train from the north was heard. Then as it glided up to the depot past the end of our sidetrack we were off without more words. But unexpected danger had arisen behind us. Out of the panic at Big Shanty two men emerged determined if possible to foil the unknown captors of their train. There was no telegraph station and no locomotive at hand with which to follow but the conductor of the train, W. A. Fuller and Anthony Murphy, foreman of the Atlanta Railway Machine Shops who happened to be on board a Fuller's train started on foot after us as hard as they could run. Finding a hand car they mounted it and pushed forward till they neared Itawa where they ran on the break we had made in the road and were precipitated down the embankment into the ditch. Continuing with more caution they reached Itawa and found the Yona which was at once pressed into service loaded with soldiers who were at hand and hurried with flying wheels toward Kingston. Fuller prepared to fight at that point for he knew of the tangle of extra trains and of the lateness of the regular trains and did not think we should be able to pass. We had been gone only four minutes when he arrived and found himself stopped by three long heavy trains of cars headed in the wrong direction. To move them out of the way so as to pass would cause a delay he was little inclined to afford would indeed have almost certainly given us the victory. So abandoning his engine, he with Murphy ran across to the Rome train and uncoupling the engine and one car pushed forward with about 40 men. As the Rome branch connected with the main road above the depot, he encountered no hindrance and it was now a fair race. We were not many minutes ahead. Four miles from Kingston, we again stopped and cut the telegraph. While trying to take up a rail at this point we were greatly startled. One end of the rail was loosened and eight of us were pulling at it when in the distance we distinctly heard the whistle of a pursuing engine. With a frantic effort, we broke the rail and all tumbled over the embankment with the effort. We moved on and at Adairsville, we found a mixed train freight and passenger waiting but there was an express on the road that had not yet arrived. We could afford no more delay and set out for the next station Calhoun at terrible speed hoping to reach that point before the express which was behind time should arrive. The nine miles which we had to travel were left behind in less than the same number of minutes. The express was just pulling out but hearing our whistle backed before us until we were able to take the sidetrack. It stopped however in such a manner as completely to close up the other end of the switch. The two trains side by side almost touched each other and our precipitated arrival caused natural suspicion. Many searching questions were asked which had to be answered before we could get the opportunity of proceeding. We in the boxcar could hear the altercation and were almost sure that a fight would be necessary before the conductor would consent to pull up in order to let us out. Here again our position was most critical for the pursuers were rapidly approaching. Fuller and Murphy saw the obstruction of the broken rail in time by reversing their engine to prevent wreck but the hindrance was for the present insuperable. Leaving all their men behind they started for a second foot race. Before they had gone far they met the train we had passed at Adairsville and turned it back after us. At Adairsville they dropped the cars and with locomotive and tender loaded with armed men they drove forward at the highest speed possible. They knew that we were not many minutes ahead and trusted to overhaul us before the express train could be safely passed. But Andrews had told the powder story again with all his skill and added a direct request in peremptory form to have the way opened before him which the Confederate conductor did not see fit to resist. And just before the pursuers arrived at Calhoun we were again underway. Stopping once more to cut wires and tear up the track we felt a thrill of exhilaration to which we had long been strangers. The track was now clear before us to Chattanooga and even west of that city we had good reason to believe that we should find no other train in the way till we had reached Mitchell's lines. If one rail could now be lifted we would be in a few minutes at the Ustinaga Bridge and that burned the rest of the task would be little more than simple manual labor with the enemy absolutely powerless. We worked with a will. But in a moment the tables were turned. Not far behind we heard the scream of a locomotive bearing down upon us at lightning speed. The men on board were in plain sight and well armed. Two minutes perhaps one would have removed the rail at which we were toiling. Then the game would have been in our own hands for there was no other locomotive beyond that could be turned back after us. But the most desperate efforts were in vain. The rail was simply bent and we hurried to our engine and darted away while remorselessly after us thundered the enemy. Now the contestants were in clear view and a race followed unparalleled in the annals of war. Wishing to gain a little time for the burning of the Ustinaga Bridge we dropped one car and shortly after another but they were picked up and pushed ahead to Rosaka. We were obliged to run over the high trestles and covered bridge at that point without a pause. This was the first failure in the work assigned us. The Confederates could not overtake and stop us on the road but their aim was to keep close behind so that we might not be able to damage the road or take in wood or water. At the former they succeeded but not in the latter. Both engines were put at the highest rate of speed. We were obliged to cut the wire after every station pass in order that an alarm might not be sent ahead and we constantly strove to throw our pursuers off the track or to obstruct the road permanently in some way so that we might be able to burn the Chikamaga bridges still ahead. The chances seemed good that Fuller and Murphy would be wrecked. We broke out the end of our last box car and dropped cross-tiles on the track as we ran thus checking their progress and getting far enough ahead to take in wood and water at two separate stations. Several times we almost lifted a rail but each time the coming of the Confederates within rifle range compelled us to desist and speed on. Our worst hindrance was in the rain. The previous day Friday had been clear with a high wind and on such a day fire would have been easily and tremendously effective. But today a bridge could be burned only with abundance of fuel and careful nursing. Thus we sped on mile after mile in this fearful chase round curves and past stations in seemingly endless perspective. Whenever we lost sight of the enemy beyond a curve we hoped that some of our obstructions had been effective in throwing him from the track and that we should see him no more but at each long reach backward the smoke was again seen and the shrill whistle was like the scream of a bird of prey. The time could not have been so very long for the terrible speed was rapidly devouring the distance but our nerves strained to the highest tension each minute seemed an hour. On several occasions the escape of the enemy from wreck was little less than miraculous. At one point a rail was placed across the track on a curve so skillfully that it was not seen till the train ran upon it at full speed. Fuller says that they were terribly jolted and seemed to bounce all together from the track but lighted on the rails in safety. Some of the Confederates wished to leave a train which was driven at such a reckless rate but their wishes were not gratified. Before reaching Dalton we urged Andrews to turn and attack the enemy, laying an ambush so as to get into close quarters that our revolvers might be on equal terms with their guns. I have little doubt that if this had been carried out it would have succeeded but either because he thought the chance of wrecking or obstructing the enemy still good or feared that the country ahead had been alarmed by a telegram around the Confederacy by the way of Richmond. Andrews merely gave the plan his sanction without making any attempt to carry it into execution. Dalton was passed without difficulty and beyond we stopped again to cut wires and to obstruct the track. It happened that a regiment was encamped not a hundred yards away but they did not molest us. Fuller had written a dispatch to Chattanooga and dropped a man with orders to have it forwarded instantly while he pushed on to save the bridges. Part of the message got through and created a wild panic in Chattanooga although it did not materially influence our fortunes. Our supply of fuel was now very short and without getting rid of our pursuers long enough to take in more it was evident that we could not run as far as Chattanooga. While cutting the wire we made an attempt to get up another rail but the enemy as usual were too quick for us. We had no tool for this purpose except a wedge pointed iron bar. Two or three bent iron claws for pulling out spikes would have given us such incontestable superiority that down to almost the last of our run we should have been able to escape and even to burn all the Chattanooga bridges. But it had not been our intention to rely on this mode of obstruction. An emergency only rendered necessary by our unexpected delay and the pouring rain. We made no attempt to damage the long tunnel north of Dalton as our enemies had greatly dreaded. The last hope of the raid was now staked upon an effort of a kind different from any that we had yet made but which if successful would still enable us to destroy the bridges nearest Chattanooga. But on the other hand, its failure would terminate the chase. Life and success were put upon one throw. A few more obstructions were dropped on the track and our own speed increased so that we soon forged a considerable distance ahead. The side and end boards of the last car were torn into shreds. All available fuel was piled upon it and blazing brands were brought back from the engine. By the time we approached a long covered bridge, a fire in the car was fairly started. We uncoupled it in the middle of the bridge and with painful suspense awaited the issue. Oh, for a few minutes till the work of conflagration was fairly begun. There was still steam pressure enough in our boiler to carry us to the next woodyard where we would have replenished our fuel by force if necessary, so as to run as near to Chattanooga as was deemed prudent. We did not know of the telegraph message which the pursuers had sent ahead but alas the minutes were not given. Before the bridge was extensively fired, the enemy was upon us and we moved slowly onward looking back to see what they would do next. We had not long to conjecture. The Confederates pushed right into the smoke and drove the burning car before them to the next sidetrack. With no car left and no fuel, the last scrap having thrown into the engine or upon the burning car and with no obstruction to drop on the track, our situation was indeed desperate. A few minutes only remained until our steed of iron which had so well served us would be powerless but it might still be possible to save ourselves. If we left the train in a body and taking a direct course toward the Union lines hurried over the mountains at right angles with their course, we could not from the nature of the country be followed by cavalry and could easily travel athletic young men as we were and fleeing for life as rapidly as any pursuers. There was no telegraph in the mountainous districts, west and northwest of us and the prospect of reaching the Union lines seemed to me then and as always since seemed very fair. Confederate pursuers with whom I have since conversed freely have agreed on two points that we could have escaped in the manner here pointed out and that an attack on the pursuing train would likely have been successful but Andrews thought otherwise at least in relation to the former plan and ordered us to jump from the locomotive one by one and dispersing in the woods each endeavor to save himself. Thus ended the Andrews railroad raid. It is easy now to understand why Mitchell paused 30 miles west of Chattanooga. The Andrews raiders had been forced to stop 18 miles south of the same town and no flying train met him with the expected tidings that all railroad communications of Chattanooga were destroyed and that the town was in a panic and undefended. He dared advance no farther without heavy reinforcements from Pittsburgh landing or the north and he probably believed to the day of his death six months later that the whole Andrews party had perished without accomplishing anything. A few words will give the sequel to this remarkable enterprise. There was great excitement in Chattanooga and in the whole of the surrounding Confederate territory for scores of miles. The hunt for the fugitive raiders was prompt, energetic and completely successful. Ignorant of the country, disorganized and far from the Union lines they drove in vain to escape. Several were captured the same day on which they left the cars and all but two within a week. Even these two were overtaken and brought back when they supposed that they were virtually out of danger. Two of those who had failed to be on the train were identified and added to the band of prisoners. Now follows the saddest part of the story. Being in citizen's dress within an enemy's lines the whole party were held as spies and closely and vigorously guarded. A court-martial was convened and the leader and seven others out of the 22 were condemned and executed. The remainder were never brought to trial probably because of the advance of Union forces and the consequent confusion into which the affairs of the departments of East Tennessee and Georgia were thrown. Of the remaining 14, eight succeeded by a bold effort attacking their guard in broad daylight in making their escape from Atlanta, Georgia and ultimately in reaching the North. The other six who shared in this effort but were recaptured remained prisoners until the latter part of March 1863 when they were exchanged through a special arrangement made with Secretary Stanton. All the survivors of this expedition received medals and promotion. The pursuers also received expressions of gratitude from their fellow Confederates and notably from the governor and the legislature of Georgia. End of section five. Section six of Famous Adventures and Prison Escapes of the Civil War by Various. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Section six, Mosby's Partisan Rangers by A.E. Richards. During the early stages of the war between the states, the Confederate Congress enacted a statute known as the Partisan Ranger Act which provided for independent bodies of cavalry to be organized as other government troops. The officers were to be regularly commissioned and the men to be paid like other soldiers. The distinctive features were that the Rangers should operate independently of the regular army and be entitled to the legitimate spoil captured from the enemy. While John S. Mosby was employed as a scout by General J. E. B. Stewart, he had concluded that a command organized and operated as contemplated by this act could do great damage to the enemy guarding that portion of Northern Virginia abandoned by the Confederate armies. But the Partisan branch of the service having been brought into disrepute by the worse than futile efforts of others his superior officers at first refused him permission to engage in so questionable an enterprise. Finally, however, General Stewart gave Mosby a detail of nine men from the regular cavalry with which to experiment. At that time, the two main armies operating in Virginia were confronting each other near Fredericksburg. To protect their lines of communication with Washington, the Federals had stationed a considerable force across the Potomac with headquarters at Fairfax Courthouse. They also established a complete cordon of pickets from a point on the river above Washington to a point below, thus encompassing many square miles of Virginia territory. Upon these outposts, Mosby commenced his operations. The size of his command compelled him to confine his attacks to the small details made nightly for picket duty. But he was so uniformly successful that when the time came for him to report back to General Stewart, that officer was so pleased with the experiment that he allowed Mosby to select 15 men from his old regiment and return for an indefinite period to his chosen field of operations. His first exploits had been so noised abroad that the young men from the neighboring counties and the soldiers at home on furloughs would request permission to join in his raids. He could easily muster 50 of these known as Mosby's conglomerates for any expedition. The opportunity for developing his ideas of border warfare was thus presented. With great vigor, he renewed his attacks upon the federal outposts. As a recognition of one of his successful exploits, the Confederate government sent him a captain's commission with authority to raise a company of partisan rangers. The material for this was already at hand and on June 10, 1862, he organized his first company. This was the nucleus around which he subsequently shaped his ideal command. The fame of his achievements had already spread throughout Virginia and Maryland and attracted to his standard many kindred spirits from both states. No conscripting was necessary. Those for whom this mode of warfare possessed a charm would brave hardship and danger for the privilege of enlisting under his banner. His recruits from Maryland and many of those from Virginia were compelled to pass through the federal pickets in order to join his command. Yet great care had to be exercised in the selection of his men and not every applicant was received. If an unworthy soldier procured admission, so soon as the mistake was discovered, he was sent under guard as a conscript to the regular service. Mosby reserved the right to select all of his officers who were invariably chosen from those who had already demonstrated their fitness for this particular service. It has been said of a great military hero that the surest proof of his genius was his skill in finding out genius in others and his promptness in calling it into action. Mosby and his limited sphere displayed a similar talent and to this faculty, almost as much as any one thing, may be attributed his success with his enlarged command. When a sufficient number of men had enlisted to form a new company, he would have them drawn up in line and his adjutant would read to them the names of those selected for officers with the announcement that all who were not in favor of their election could step out of the ranks and go to the regular service. Of course, no one ever left. In order to comply with the law, the form of an election was then gone through with and their commander's choice ratified. In no other body of troops were all the officers, thus unanimously elected. Mosby's command, as finally organized, consisted of eight companies of cavalry and one of mounted artillery, officers by a Colonel, a Lieutenant Colonel and a major with the usual compliment of company officers. But the entire force was seldom combined. Instead of this, they would be divided into two or more detachments operating in different places. So it was not at all unusual for an attack to be made the same night upon Sheridan's line of transportation in the valley, upon the pickets guarding the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, upon the outposts at Fairfax County and upon the rear of the army maneuvering against Lee. This explains what at the time seemed to many of the readers of the Northern newspapers a mystery, how Mosby's men could be in so many different places at the same time. The safety and success of the Rangers were enhanced by the subdivisions, the Federals having become so alert as to make it extremely difficult for a large command either to evade their pickets or maneuver within their lines. From 50 to 100 men were all that were usually marched together and many of their most brilliant successes were achieved with even a smaller force. Mosby had only 20 men with him when he captured Brigadier General Edwin H. Doughton. With these he penetrated the heart of the Federal Camp and carried off its commander. General Stouton was in charge of an army of cavalry, infantry, and artillery with headquarters at Fairfax Courthouse. One dark night in March 1863 Mosby with his small detachment evaded the Federal pickets, passed through the sleeping army and with their campfires gleaming all around him and their sentinels on duty aroused their general from his slumbers and took him captive with 37 of his comrades. But the novelty of Mosby's mode of warfare consisted chiefly in the manner of subsisting, quartering, and protecting his men. The upper portion of Loudon and Farquhar Counties embracing a circuit of about 30 miles in diameter was then known as Mosby's Confederacy. By a glance at the map it will be observed that it bordered upon the Blue Ridge Mountains on the west and the Bull Run Mountains on the east. The valley between is one of the richest, most beautiful, and highly cultivated in the state of Virginia. It was thickly inhabited with old Virginia families who were loyal and true to the Southern cause. These people received Mosby's men into their houses as their guests and neither danger nor want could tempt their betrayal. Robin Hood's band sought safety in the solitudes of Sherwood Forest. Marion's men secreted themselves in the pleasant wiles of Snow's Island and other South Carolina swamps but the partisan rangers of Virginia protected themselves by dispersing in an open country among a sympathizing people. They never established a camp to have done so would have invited capture. Each soldier had his boarding house where he lived when off duty as a member of the family. From these they would come, singly or in groups, bringing their rations with them to some designated rendezvous, march rapidly to and from the point of attack, send their prisoners under guard to the nearest Confederate post, divide the spoil and disperse. If they were pursued by an overwhelming force, as was frequently the case, the evening found them scattered to the four winds where each man mounted upon his own fleet steed could protect himself from capture. If the Federals attempted to follow the chase in small parties, the rangers from behind every hill and grove would concentrate and dash upon them. If they marched in solid column, the rangers would hang upon their flanks firing upon them from behind trees, fences and ill-tops. In this way, General Julius Stell, who had invaded Mosby's Confederacy with two brigades of cavalry and four pieces of artillery for the avowed purpose of utterly demolishing the rangers, was so annoyed that he retired, thoroughly disgusted with an enemy who only fought when they got their foe at a disadvantage. As there were no civil officers commissioned by either party in all that section of Virginia, the people naturally turned to Mosby as their only representative of law and order. It was not unusual for them to submit their property controversies to him for a decision. In this way, he acquired a civil jurisdiction in connection with his military dictatorship. Being a lawyer by profession, educated at the University of Virginia, his civil administration became as remarkable for its prudence and justice as his military leadership was for magnanimity and dash. I heard an old citizen remark, for two years Mosby was our ruler and the country never was better governed. He protected the people from stragglers and deserters who pillaged friend and foe alike. Every captured horse thief was promptly executed. He required his own men to treat the citizens with fairness and courtesy and any violation of this rule was punished by sending the offender to the regular service. Its observance was more easily enforced than would appear possible at first glance. The men were scarcely ever off duty except for necessary rest. The officers were then distributed among them and by their example and authority controlled when necessary the deportment of their men. The citizens with whom they lived also exercised a healthy influence over them. These relations engendered many attachments that ran like golden threads through the soldier's life and outlived the rough usages of war. It thus became no easy matter to drive the Rangers from a territory so dear to them and in which they were befriended by all. On two occasions the entire federal army operating against General Lee passed through Mosby's Confederacy and yet his men did not abandon it. They hid themselves in the mountains during the day and descended upon the enemy at night. They thus observed every movement of the federal army and all valuable information was promptly sent to the Confederate general. On one of these occasions, June 17, 1863, Mosby found himself at 10 o'clock at night between the infantry and cavalry commands of General Hooker's army. Observing three horses hitched near a house with an orderly standing by, he left his command with the prisoners already captured and taking with him three men rode up to the orderly and was informed by him that the horses belonged to Major William E. Sterling and another officer. In a whisper he said to the orderly, my name is Mosby, keep quiet. The man understood him to say that he, the orderly, was Mosby and very indignantly replied, no sir, I am as good a union man as ever walk the earth. Those are just the sword I am after, said Mosby. Just then the two officers emerged from the house as they approached one of the rangers stretched out his hand to disarm the major. Supposing him to be an acquaintance, Major Sterling offered his hand in return but was overwhelmed with surprise when informed that he was a prisoner. Upon examination he was found to be the bearer of important dispatches from General Hooker to his chief of cavalry, General Pleasanton. These dispatches which developed the contemplated movements of the army and directed the cooperation of the cavalry were placed in General Seuler's hands by dawn of day. On this and many similar occasions information furnished by the rangers proved invaluable to the Confederate generals. But furnishing information was not the most important service they rendered. It has been fairly estimated that they detained on guard duty 30,000 federal soldiers who otherwise might have been employed at the front. Even then the federal lines of transportation were constantly being attacked with more or less success. It was impossible to protect them against such reckless activity as the rangers were constantly displaying. No matter how vigilant the Federals were, Mosby was sure to find an opportunity for attacking. Sometimes his success would lie in the very boldness of the attempt. This was never more strikingly illustrated than in one of his attacks on Sheridan's line of transportation. The federal arm which had driven General Early up the valley beyond Winchester was drawing its supplies over the term pike from Harper's Ferry. Mosby, taking a command of five companies of cavalry and two mountain owitzers, numbering 250 men, passed at night across the Blue Ridge and fording the Shenandoah, halted a few miles below Berryville. Writing out to the term pike, he discovered in his immediate front two large trains parked for the night, one going toward the enemy loaded, the other returning empty. He determined to capture the former, composed of 150 wagons. At daybreak it commenced to move guarded by a brigade of infantry and 250 cavalry. The train and its guard were soon strung along the term pike. The cavalry rode on the flank near the center, a company of infantry marched in front of each 10th wagon and the remaining force was distributed between the rear and advance guards. It was a bright summer morning and just as the sun was rising the rangers marched across the open fields and halted about 400 yards from the road and within full view of the moving train. Observing the federal cavalry dismounted across the road a quarter of a mile to his left, Mosby sent two companies of his cavalry and one howitzer with orders to take a position immediately opposite them and there await the signal of attack which was to be three shots fired from the howitzer left behind. This detachment did not halt until it was within 75 yards of the moving train. Of course the Federals observed all these maneuvers but were misled by their very boldness. They never imagined but what this new force was a part of their own army. So when the first shot which fell short was fired from the howitzer, several of their officers rode to the Eminence not more than 30 steps in front of the detached Confederate squadron and lifting their glasses to their eyes prepared to witness what they supposed to be artillery practice. Just then the second shell from the howitzer burst in the midst of their cavalry who supposing it had been fired in that direction through mistake hastily prepared to move beyond range. Immediately the rebel yell was raised and the squadron dashed at the Federals scattering them in every direction and capturing the officers with their glasses still in their hands. Turning abruptly to the left the Rangers charged along the road riding over company after company of infantry until checked by a volley from the advance guard. At the same time another squadron had struck the turnpike immediately in front of their first position and turning to the right had written down everything between them and the rearguard. Then with one howitzer playing upon the advance and the other upon the rearguard the Rangers rapidly collected their prisoners, unhitched the teams and burned the wagons. When reinforcements reached the Federals they deployed their skirmishers and advanced in line of battle only to see the Rangers riding over the hills in the distance taking with them 300 prisoners, 700 mules and horses and 230 beef cattle. But the rejoicing of the Rangers was almost turned into chagrin when they learned from the northern papers that one of the wagons from which they had taken the mules was loaded with an iron safe containing $1 million to pay off the army. Upon reading it Mosby dropped the paper with a sigh exclaiming, there's a cool million gone after it was fairly earned. What other man could sustain such losses with so little embarrassment? But this failure of the Rangers to secure their earnings did not always attend them. Shortly after that they collected a sufficient amount of dues to enable them to determine upon greenbacks as the future currency of their Confederacy. It happened in this wise taking with him 75 men, Mosby crossed at an early hour of the night in rear of Sheridan's army and struck the Baltimore and Ohio railroad above Harper's Ferry near Duffield station. Here they prized up one side of the track to a height of four feet placing a secure foundation under it. Soon the night express came rushing along. The engine upset and the train came to a stand without serious injury to the passengers. Immediately the cars were boarded and everyone in federal uniform captured. Among the prisoners were two paymasters, majors Moore and Ruggles, who had in a satchel and tin box $168,000 in greenbacks to pay off the troops stationed along the road. Securing this rich booty, the strangers burned the cars and re-passed Sheridan's pickets before the day had dawned. The money was divided upon reaching their Confederacy, each man receiving something over $2,000. Mosby taking nothing. Only the men who participated in a particular raid were allowed to share in its spoil. The officer who commanded the expedition always controlled the distribution. It was seldom there was anything to divide except horses and their equipments. Those who had distinguished themselves in the fight were allowed the first choice as a reward for their gallantry, the shares of the others being divided by lot. This system, by rewarding individual merit, encouraged a healthy rivalry among the men and at the same time removed all inducement to leave the fight for plunder. Often when a charge was ordered, a genuine horse race followed, the swiftest steeds leading the way. In this manner the men were mounted and equipped without expense to themselves or the Confederate government. On the contrary, the Army quartermaster kept an agent in Mosby's Confederacy to purchase from the rangers their surplus stock and arms. His standing price for a horse was $40 in gold, but each ranger retained two or more of the best for his own use. In this way they were always splendidly mounted. I once heard a federal officer say he was not surprised that Mosby's men rode such fine horses as they had both armies to pick from. The cavalry was armed with pistols alone of which each man carried at least two. Their superiority over all other arms for this branch of the service was frequently demonstrated. It is a weapon that can be used with one hand leaving the other to guide the horse. Cavalry is never really efficient and less trained to rush into close contact with the enemy. To see the vice of their eyes is not sufficient. They must ride over the foe. In the rapid charge the carbine is not only useless but a positive encumbrance. The saber is comparatively harmless. It serves to frighten the timid but rarely ever deals a death wound. Let two men encounter each other in the charge, one relying upon his pistol and the other upon his saber and the former, though an ordinary marksman, will almost invariably get the better of his antagonist. The rangers realized their advantage in this respect. It encouraged them to rush into close quarters where the rapid discharge of their pistols soon told upon the enemy no matter how bravely they had withstood the onset. I have seen the victory decided, alone by the superiority of the pistol over the saber, where the opposing columns had crossed each other in the charge and wheeling had mingled in the fight. But the rangers were compelled to discard the carbine and the saber for other reasons than their inferiority in the hand-to-hand conflict. It was always their policy to take the enemy by surprise if possible. Their favorite plan was to wind their way through the federal pickets during the night and make the attack at break of day. The rattling of the carbine and saber would have made it impossible to execute these movements with the silence necessary to success. To the uninitiated, it would be surprising to see with what noiseless secrecy these maneuvers could be accomplished. Only whispered commands were necessary from the officers and the presence of danger ensured silence in the ranks. This silence, which was observed so long as silence was proper, served to make the charge with its shout and its cheer the more terrible to the foe. But it must not be imagined the rangers were always successful. They were themselves sometimes surprised, sometimes repulsed. Nothing else could be expected from almost daily encounters in a country abandoned to the enemy. There were occasions when they were saved from total ruin only by their knowledge of the country and the swiftness of their steeds. End of section six.