USA > Ohio > Four years in the saddle. History of the First Regiment, Ohio Volunteer Cavalry. War of the Rebellion, 1861-1865 > Part 25
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Texas troops were a little ugly. For some reason or other they regarded us with suspicion; not a great deal, I think, but just enough to be a trifle ugly; then they were beaten and were going to war-wasted homes, and there was much talk amongst them about our men; they said something about coming over and taking our horses away from us, anyway, it made no difference who we were. While here, two of my men strayed away to a house, a short distance, where they found a little something to eat, and sat down at the table with four rebel soldiers. One of them was one of the best scouts in the army. The other was a little indiscreet of tongue and one of two men whom I did not personally choose, but were detailed from the regiment, and were the only men whom I could not absolutely trust. While at the table the conversation turned upon prison life. One of the rebels detailed the history of his life on Kelly's Island, and another had been in prison at Camp Douglas, Chicago; when my indiscreet fellow spoke up and said he had been in prison, too, and he had suffered a good deal and had a mighty hard time. One of the rebels asked what prison he had been in. He said Belle Island (a rebel prison). It was a stunner. The rebels looked up quickly and at each other significantly. My other scout delivered a vigorous kick under the table and looked across sternly and quickly at him; then he said, "O, I meant Johnson's Island." This answer, promptly given in response to the kick, while it did not wholly relieve the tension, was sufficient for the time being. The two men who had been very hungry before suddenly lost their appetites and, making some excuse, withdrew and came down to the bank of the river where I was waiting to cross the men, and one of them told me the story. This was not at all reassuring, but I was there and there I had to stay. About nine o'clock I got control of the ferry and began crossing my men.
In the meantime I had two or three men who mingled con- stantly with the rebels, and were lying around in the rebel camps, listening to what they were saying. About eleven o'clock I had about half my command across. There were still quite a number up in the rebel camps who were talking in anything but a pleasant strain about us, and my men came over and said that they thought we would be attacked pretty soon. By the first ferry that crossed over I sent to have all the men, but one or two who had crossed, return, leaving their horses there, as the ferry would carry fifteen or twenty men without horses. As our numbers were constantly diminishing and those behind were cumbered with their horses, I desired these men to guard the crossing of the balance. We lay down on the sand of the river bank in a little circle, with our pistols in our hands, expect- ing almost any moment to be attacked. I kept watching the ferry with the greatest anxiety until finally the last of the horses
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were transported across; then the ferry boat came back and I placed the dismounted men in, and as I stepped in the last myself and pushed it off, I felt a great relief, knowing that the first serious danger had been passed. Immediately upon arriv- ing at the other side of the ferry I mounted my men and marched - toward Greensboro, which we reached about three A. M. From conversation with the Texas troops, I expected at this point to meet some other commands, and not caring to strike them in the night time, I dismounted my men in a thicket by the road- side and waited two hours for the approach of dawn. As soon as it was daylight we moved through the little town of Greens- boro and just on the other side met two rebel soldiers. I ad- dressed them and asked them what division they belonged to, and they stated, to Dibrell's division of cavalry, and that the brigade to which they were attached was in camp a few miles out on the road and would be along in a short time. I then asked them if they knew where President Davis was. They said that he was in Washington, Ga., on yesterday. I asked them if they were certain of that, adding that I had a message that I desired to carry to him and desired to be absolutely sure of his present location. They stated that they had seen him themselves. Then further to verify the statement I asked if the specie wagons were there, which I had been informed were traveling with him; and they said yes, and that the troops had been given two months' pay in coin, and they showed me $26 each which they had received.
I then felt absolutely sure of my ground. I placed my men, who had had no sleep for two nights, in the woods, so that they might not be interrupted by any passing column, rode back into Greensboro, knocked at a door, aroused a family and asked for paper and pencil; and was given a piece of paper that looked as if it might have served our ancestors of a hundred years ago for wall paper. Upon this I hurriedly wrote a dis. patch, detailing all that I had been able to ascertain at that time, advising General Wilson of the exact location of Davis on the fourth, this being the morning of the fifth, and that I thought from what I had learned from these and other parties that he intended going south from there and would avoid our troops- at Macon by a detour east thereof and, since he found this field occupied by Wilson's command and the road to the trans-Mis- sissippi barred, would try and reach the Florida coast, if not intercepted. I returned immediately to my command and se- lected therefrom John Camm and William Hampden, both of Company C, and who lived at Cincinnati, Ohio, when enlisted. I told them the contents of the dispatch, so that if for any pur- pose it became necessary to destroy it, it might be delivered orally. I directed them to push their horses to the utmost they could stand, and if opportunity offered, to exchange them and
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get the dispatch in the hands of Wilson before daylight next morning. They rode back through the town of Greensboro, down to the Oc nee ferry, and were waiting there to cross with other troops, when for some reason or other they became convinced that they were objects of suspicion, and they started quietly down the river. They had gotten about a mile away when a dozen rebels started in pursuit of them, followed them down the river five or six miles, and, threatening to head them off in a bend, they jumped into and swam the Oconee under a shower of balls, but fortunately escaped and reached General Alexander at Atlanta, who immediately telegraphed to General Wilson at Macon the contents of the dispatch. And acting upon this dispatch he sent out Lieutenant-Colonel Harnden, of the First Wisconsin Cavalry, who afterwards first struck the trail of Davis at Dublin, Georgia, on the eighth day of May. After dispatching these couriers, I left all the men of my command in the woods near Greensboro, with the exception of five, whom I chose to accompany me. One of these rode with me, two a couple of hundred yards behind, and two two or three hundred yards be- hind them. Our object was to meet the brigade, which I had been informed was two or three miles behind, and see if Davis might not have come with it. We passed, and I saluted the officer at the head of the column, had a few minutes' guarded conversation with him, and immediately passed on, one of us taking one side of the column and the other the other until the entire brigade had passed. Davis was not with it, I de- termined, unless he might be in an ambulance; and while I had no considerable idea that he was there, still I did not want to pass this brigade and go on to Washington, Ga., until I was absolutely certain that he was not with it.
After passing the brigade, I went down to a point where the roads fork, one going toward South Carolina, and the other towards Washington, Ga. This was about six miles beyond Greensboro. I had met the brigade about three miles out. At the forks of the road was a toll-gate, and about twenty or thirty - dismounted rebel soldiers. I stopped for a moment for the men who were in the rear to come up. As the two men in the rear came up, Lee Wood, who was one of them, said to me: "Lieuten- ant, there has been a man following us ever since we left that brigade. He has kept about the same distance behind us, . and now that we have halted, he has also halted under the tree up yonder," pointing to him. I looked and saw a man sitting on his horse under the tree about eight hundred yards away. I knew that Wood was one of the coolest men in the world, not likely to be rattled; but I saw he was greatly worried. At the time I did not think it a matter of much importance myself; I laughed and said, "I don't think it amounts to much," jumped off my horse and talked to the rebel soldiers five or ten minutes.
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The six of us then turned back toward Greensboro together; the horseman still remained under the tree, and as we came near him I saw he was a man of very distinguished figure, finely mounted, and with a handsome gray uniform. There was noth- ing to indicate his rank, but I felt certain that he was a man of considerable rank and great intelligence. I saluted him and we passed on; he did not return the salute, but looked at us sternly; he closely scanned our equipments, looked at the U. S. on our belts, and the U. S. on' our horses, and after we had passed him two or three hundred yards fell in our rear and fol- lowed us along the road, keeping about the same distance behind us. After a mile or two of this conduct on his part I myself became worried and consulted with the man who was riding beside me as to what best to do. We could not capture him because we were apparently rebels. To capture him was to declare ourselves Union soldiers, and we could not hold him where we were constantly meeting rebel troops. If we cap. tured him, we must kill him. And so I marched back to the point where my command was in the woods, letting the matter drift without making up my mind what to do. I had determined upon sending a part of my men back through the town of Greens- boro to the ferry across the Oconee to make certain after all that Davis might not be in any of the ambulances, and take the balance of them and push on to Washington." As we came to a point about two miles from Greensboro another road crossed the Greensboro road. I stopped there, it being within about half a mile of where my command was placed in the woods. But a couple of my men, yielding to the foraging instinct in them, were over in a potato patch and hallooed my name and said something which was indistinguishable to me, and the rebel drew up until he was not more than forty feet away from us and stopped and listened too. I was fearful lest something might be said that might give away the object and character of our expedition. I twisted nervously in my saddle and turned my face in the direction of the rebel to observe him. My face must have betrayed the perplexity I was in, for just then Geo. Blair, a boy of my company, only seventeen years of age and one of the coolest and bravest boys I ever knew, but what was strange for a boy of that character, absolutely cruel and hard- ened, rode up and whispered to me, "Lieutenant, you capture him and I'll take him out in the woods and kill him." And he would have killed him as he would a rat. I thought for a moment that I had never killed a man in cold blood. Then I thought, there are thirty-three men whose lives are in my charge; they may be all killed in a desperate conflict, and hanged or shot if captured; I owe them a duty that will not excuse scruples of this kind; then I thought further it was my first duty to my government to make certain of the capture of Davis, and
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no man's life should stand in the way; that this man surely suspected us and might betray us to some rebel column and thus prevent his capture: and as the mind and body uncon- sciously act together, the mind was yielding to these arguments of its own, and my hand was unconsciously travelling toward the holster for my revolver and had reached it, when he turned his horse and walked off toward Greensboro. In a moment more I should have drawn it and shot him. I drew a sigh of relief that I was not compelled to kill him in this manner. For the two minutes he was there neither of us spoke a word. He sat his horse as motionless as a statue, eyeing me critically, as I him. He was measuring me and determining me and the char- acter of my troops; and I was weighing his life in the balance against the lives of my men and the capture of Davis. The nerv- ous tension was intense, but I was revolving our chances more coolly than I am writing this narrative. I then got my men out of the woods, and with the intention of flanking Greens- boro and avoiding trouble, I marched northward about two miles, but found a swamp on that side and that I could not flank it without great delay. I was afraid of that, lest by some chance my quarry might escape me, and I determined to march directly through the town. I then returned to the main Greens- boro road; I drew my men up in line and told them I was going through Greensboro; that I had intended to send only two or three through to the Oconee ferry, but after the events of the morning I did not like to send them through alone and thought I should share the danger with them; that from the brief con- versation I had held in the morning with the officer in command it was almost certain that a large portion of the brigade would still be there waiting for the advance to cross the ferry; that I thought the chances were ninety-nine out of a hundred that we would not get through without a fight; but that I must take that chance. I further said to them, if we do get into a fight I want no man to surrender, but that I desire each man to fight his way out for himself, as the expedition would then be at an end, and surrender meant death in any event. And as we had before that been intentionally marching in groups of three and four so as to attract as little attention as possible, I ordered them to march in close column, to loosen their revolvers in their holsters and be ready to fight at a moment's notice. Thus in- structed, with grim and determined faces we marched down into the town, feeling as if we were going to a funeral rather than anything else; and the quick wit and the coolness displayed in the story that I am about to tell can only be fully appreciated when it is understood that the man himself who was the hero of it expected in a few minutes to be in a desperate conflict for his life.
The town of Greensboro itself is, like many of those southern.
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hamlets, a little town strung out along the road; it was not platted, and had but one road, not more than forty-five feet wide, through it. There were no cross streets, and it would have been a desperate place for a fight, had one occurred. A con- siderable portion of the rebel brigade, as I had supposed, was still in Greensboro. The men were lying down under the trees and beside the fences on both sides of the road, while many of the officers were sitting on the piazzas, talking to the ladies. We had passed about half way through the town when some officer to our left and about fifty feet away, whether it was the same man who had followed us in the morning or not, I could not at the time ascertain, sung out in that drawling Southern tone: "I'll bet a thousand dollahs those men are God damn Yankees!" I turned to say something, but quicker than a flash Lee Wood shook his long hair back, turned on his saddle, laughed quietly and with as much ease and quiet grace as if he had been born on the stage, and mimicking him to the echo, answered back: "I'll bet a thousand dollahs you're a God damn liar!" Wood's manner was so careless and easy, but withal half way reckless; the mimicry was so perfect and so droll, so quickly done, that it was infectious, and the entire command, that a moment before had been expecting to have a desperate fight, broke into a hearty laugh. I turned in my saddle and said: "You'd better let that boy alone; you've got more than you can carry away thar," using a colloquialism that I had learned from my Virginia friends when a lad. While I know it is not good form to use profane language in written narrative and I regret the necessity therefor, yet the spirit and wit of this remarkable story could not have been preserved without giving it just as it was.
We passed rapidly on and toward the other end of the town there was a large manor house, and the road widened out there, and a large block was placed, where in slavery days the guests were received who were coming to visit the master and lady of the house. As we passed by it a somewhat distinguished looking man ran down toward us, reached out his hand to me and said, "How are you, General," supposing, from the little knot of men behind me, that I was a General; or perhaps, on account of Southern courtesy, he did not want to call me anything less than a General anyway. I reached down, grasped his hand cor- dially and said: "How do you do, sir? How do you do?" Then he went on to say: "We have just heard that the Yankees are in Macon, suh, and that they will soon be here, and we thought it would be a good deal better to give the quartermaster stores to our own troops than to let the Yankees have them, and we have broken up the quartermaster department and are distrib. uting the clothing." He said: "Won't you stop your men and get some?" I said: "No, I believe not. My men are very well dressed now and do not need any more clothing; and the weather
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is getting very hot, and I believe I will move on to the river." I thought it was a good deal hotter than he knew anything about, and that I should just then like to get rid of what we had of that kind of clothing, if possible. I passed through the balance of the town, and about three-quarters of a mile beyond it I saw a wooded ravine that wound first away from the town and then around it toward the right and in the direction of Washington, Ga. As soon as I saw it I thought, this is the place to take care of my men; we have averted the danger, but for the moment only; the man who called us Yankees will not be content with the answer and the laugh he got; as soon as he can consult with other officers and mount a column, they will be in hot pursuit of us to satisfy themselves whether we are Yankees or not. We had marched in an ordinary walk, but when we struck that ravine we turned off on a gallop, went down the ravine, swung around it, and after we had gone about a mile I halted my men, went up to the top of a slight hill that over- looked the road, and saw a rebel column of about a hundred men go by on a thundering gallop, evidently in hot pursuit of the bogus rebels who had just passed through their midst. I thought, my gentlemen, you are just a little bit too late; the Yankee has been just a trifle too smart for you this time. This incident and the precautions that were thereafter necessary lost . us much valuable time and had much to do with giving the actual capture of Davis to the Fourth Michigan and First Wis- consin, instead of to my command, to whom it fairly belonged, as it delayed our march toward Washington and necessitated more caution, lest intelligence might have been transmitted to the troops still with Davis of a suspicious body of men, for whom they should be on the lookout .. That this was done I have every reason to believe from circumstances occurring thereafter.
After the entire rebel command had moved out of Greens- boro, having given up of course my trip to the Oconee ferry, I flanked the town again on the south and passed again eastward toward Washington, Ga. We marched a considerable part of that night, but as we had lost two entire nights of sleep, we camped in the woods toward daylight, but took the road at daylight again. As we approached Washington I formed a plan to seize Davis' person at night-fall in the midst of what troops were left, which were not then guarding him closely, the usual pickets and outposts being almost, if not entirely, abandoned. It would have been a desperate undertaking, and it is better as it turned out that it's execution was not attempted. I had fully de- termined to kidnap and carry Davis off bodily, but the suspicions of the Confederate Cavalry with whom we mingled for several days had been aroused and their renewed vigilance prevented it. I scat- tered my men, as it would have been useless and criminally reckless of their lives to make the attempt or to keep them together just then.
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But during the day I sent two more couriers with dispatches to General Wilson confirming my previous dispatch and especially that Davis was certain of going southward from Washington. Upon the receipt of this second dispatch a part of the Fourth Michigan Cavalry, under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel Pritchard, was sent out, which met Harnden near Abbeville, Georgia, on the afternoon of the ninth, and on the morning of the tenth, moving by a different route, effected his capture. I spent the entire day of the seventh mingling with rebel troops and scattering my men amongst the various bands and endeav- oring to find ourselves the actual route taken by Davis, so that we might be first in at the death instead of sending the informa- tion upon which he might be captured, but without avail until it was too late.
In our attempt to be absolutely certain that Davis was not with any of the commands through which we passed, we had given him too far a start to the South and had given to Harnden and Pritchard the honor of the actual capture, which fairly belonged to us. But when Pritchard and Harnden overtook Davis at Erwinsville, Ga., on the morning of the tenth of May, his followers had dwindled to a mere handful. There was honor in it, but no great danger and no hazardous service. We were upon the strain all the time. The lack of sufficient disguise made that which was a perilous and hazardous duty before doubly perilous and hazardous thereby. But we had some good luck withal; indeed, we had much good luck withal, or many a man who went upon the expedition would never have returned. On one occasion we had passed through a rebel regiment and were passing by the wagon train connected therewith; I had dropped about half way back of the company, and as I passed a rebel sitting by a tree I heard him count: "One, two, three, four, five, - by George, Harry," he said, "these fellows have captured a whole company of Yanks' horses." It was lucky for us that he thought that we had captured a company of Yanks' horses, rather than that we were Yanks ourselves in rebel uni- form.
It may not be out of place, I think, if in this connection I relate an adventure that was purely personal to myself. It illustrates almost as much as the incident related of Wood the necessity for coolness, readiness, quick invention and invincible nerve; it also illustrates the character of the service my men and myself were almost hourly rendering. On the forenoon of the eighth my men had gone ahead and I had remained behind entirely alone, trying to get some information from a few rebel soldiers whom we had met. I then started on to join the com- mand. As I turned the corner of a road I saw in front of me, abont six or seven hundred yards away, a wagon with six or seven officers behind it. Over to the right was what had been
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once a regiment of infantry, but now carrying but about two hundred muskets only. As I neared the wagon I saw these officers engaged in earnest conversation and knew instinctively that I was the object thereof. To know this was to know that I was suspected, because there was no other reason in the world for directing so much attention to me. I was alone, my men by that time over a mile ahead, and I felt I was in for it. As I rode up I thought I did not care for the men lying down with their muskets stacked; a sudden dash would carry me out of all danger from them. But I was interested in the fellows who were in the road with their revolvers at their sides and to whom I must talk and whom I must fight if necessary at close quar- ters, not more than three or four feet away. As I rode up I planned in my own mind exactly what I would do. I was mounted on a powerful horse, and I determined to ride as close as I could get to the little knot of officers, leaving my left foot close to my horse, ready to put a spur in him at the first sign of hostilities on their part. Acting on this, I crowded my horse right up against them, and I felt perfectly sure that should one of them attempt to draw on me, the spur on the opposite heel, driven into my horse, would make him jump against and knock them all down or so deflect their aim that I should be in no danger. As I drew near it was certain that they had been talking with my men somewhat, for one of them, a red- headed, inquisitive little hornet, said: "Lieutenant, your men say that you belong to the Eighth Kentucky." I said: "Yes, suh, I do." Then he said: "Where has the Eighth Kentucky been serving?" I said it has been serving under General Roddy, but my company has been detached down on the Coosa, guard- ing against desertahs and niggars, suh; and I haven't been with the regiment for more than a year. He said: "Who is the Colonel of the Eighth Kentucky?" (I cannot give it now, but I knew the roster of the field officers then.) I smiled and said: "Why, Colonel Shackleford, suh." (Which will answer for the present just as well as any other name.) "Who's the Lieutenant- Colonel?" "Colonel Jones, suh." "Who's the major?" "Major Wheeler, suh." (These are not the names. I have forgotten them. But I give them in place of the real names, which I then knew.) I do not know if he knew the roster of the regimental officers, but I did; so much did the hospitality given to a rebel officer one evening in our tent serve me in my hour of need. He then said to me: "Where are you going, suh?" "I'm going back here." "Why are you going back there?" "Because," I said, "it is my business, suh. I don't know that I need answer to you. I have business back here." He said: "It doesn't look right, suh." "I can't help how it looks to you; it is simply my business to perform the duty that is imposed upon me as a Confederate officer, suh." He then said to me: "I have a brother"
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