The Dispatch Carrier and Memoirs of Andersonville Prison Part 5

By this time quite a number of the soldiers had got over the fence and were talking to Jim and Thorne. It was getting late in the afternoon, and away off in the west could be heard distant thunder. The Colonel ordered them to mount, and they rode on about half a mile and went into camp. I noticed that the young man went with them.

Every move that was made by the family we were guarding showed them to be rebels. The great, black clouds came rolling up from the west. The lightning was something fearful to behold, and the deep ba.s.s thunder shook the earth to its very foundation. The negroes were running in every direction. It could easily be seen that they were terribly frightened at the approaching storm. Great drops of rain began to fall.

"Just then the rebel Colonel and two captains came riding up, threw themselves from the saddle and told the darkey to put their horses under shelter. As the darkey was leading the horses there came a flash of lightning, and a deafening crash of thunder followed so closely that it seemed more like the noise of a cannon. One of the horses rose up on his hind feet and struck the darkey with his front feet and sent him sprawling on the ground. At that all three started up to the rebel camp on a run and disappeared round a bend in the road. The old gentleman was standing out on the porch. He spoke to another darkey and told him to go and see if Sam was dead. Just then Sam rose to a sitting position and looked up and saw us gazing at him and hollered out,

"Oh, ma.s.sa, I is dunderstruck!"

The rain now began to pour down and the wind was blowing fearfully. The darkey jumped to his feet and made for a place of shelter. We all went into the house. It was getting quite dark. They were obliged to light candles. In a few minutes a colored woman came to the door and announced supper.

"Now," said the old gentleman, "I want you confederates and you federals to come and eat at the same table, and I want it understood that there is to be no quarreling."

As we filed into the dining room we laid our arms in one corner of the room and sat down to the table. I sat next to a rebel Captain, and the rebel Colonel and the two girls sat opposite us. Every time that the Captain who sat next to me had anything to say it was a slur on the Yankees. The rebel Colonel did not approve of his actions, for he frequently shook his head at him. Finally the Captain said:

"I believe I could lick twenty Yanks alone. I know I could if they were all like these we have here."

I turned to the old gentleman and said:

"We came here to guard you and your family and not to be insulted."

"Well," said the old man, "I am very sorry this has occurred."

"Well," said Jim, "it was not two weeks ago that one of your men challenged one of our men to come out and have a square stand-up fight across White river. He probably thought he could get away with twenty Yankees too, but, Mr. Reb, I went out and had a fair fight with him and got away with him, too, so if you think you can get away with twenty Yanks such as are here, you can try me in the morning. If you get away with me, you will have two more to try your hand on."

The old gentleman jumped up and said,

"I want this thing stopped, and want it distinctly understood that there will be no fighting here."

We finished our supper in silence, and as we were rising to leave the table, I said,

"My opinion is, you will all get all the fighting you want before to-morrow night;" and I proved to be a good prophet that time.

CHAPTER VIII.

We went back in the other room and talked over the prospects of the war without any hard feelings. The rebel captain had gone off with the girls. The Colonel said,

"I will put a guard around the house to-night. We do not want you men to go away until we move on."

I looked out and saw that the storm was over. The old gentleman told us we could go to bed any time, so it being ten o'clock, we took our arms and followed the old man up stairs. He took us into a room where there were two beds, put the candle on a stand, bade us good-night and left us alone.

"Now," said Thorne, "I don't like the looks of things here. That rebel captain means mischief."

"Well," said Jim, "that old Colonel is all right; he will keep that Captain straight, you can bet on that."

Soon after we got in bed, I heard some one talking in the room below us.

I slid out of bed slyly and pulled a piece of the carpet away and discovered a large knot hole in the floor. I made a sign for the boys to keep quiet while I looked through the hole. The rebel captain sat there with his arm around the girl's waist and she had her head on his shoulder. She was talking to him about us and this is what she said:

"That Yankee told the truth when he said he had a square fight with one of our men."

"Yes, the man he fought belonged to my company. He is in camp now and a better marksman can not be found in the regiment. Now, my dear, can't we study up some plan to get away with these Yanks?"

"No, pa want let us do anything, for you know he has fifty thousand dollars in gold buried down in one corner of the cellar, and if he did not have a protecting guard, the Yanks might go through the house and find it. I know it is hard and mean to have the dirty things here, but I suppose we will have to stand it."

"I will tell you how we can fix them in the morning. Treat everybody to some of that nice peach brandy of yours, and put a good dose of a.r.s.enic in the Yankees' gla.s.ses, and you may be sure that will fix them."

"Do you really want me to do that?"

"Of course I do."

"What will pa say when General Curtis comes along and wants to know what has become of the guards he sent?"

"You folks can say that they never came and he will just think they have deserted."

"But you know pa is so particular about his honesty, that he would spoil the whole thing."

"Your pa would not know what killed the Yanks, and we would take their horses and arms and your pa would be so frightened that he would keep still."

"Well, what about your Colonel?"

"Oh, the devil with him. I sometimes think he is half Yank by the way he acts and talks. Now, if you will kill these Yanks, you will be doing the confederacy a great favor. It might not be three days before we get into a fight with them and they might kill your brother or me, so you see you can do as much as any soldier if you are brave and do what I want you to."

"Well, I will do it, for it may be as you say, and if my brother and you should be killed, I wouldn't want to live."

"Now you talk like my own brave little girl."

They had a good deal more to say that would not interest the reader. As long as we were in no immediate danger, I crawled back to bed and went to sleep. The next morning, when we woke up, I posted the boys about what I heard but there was no need of that, for away up toward the rebel camp we could hear the clash of fire arms--first one gun, then bang!

came a sh.e.l.l right over the house. Everything was confusion in the house, women screaming, men cursing and negroes yelling. It was a perfect bedlam going on below. It did not take long to go down and out on the stoop and look away up toward the rebel camp. The smoke of the battle was rising above the trees and the rebel Colonel and the two captains were running up toward the conflict and soon disappeared around the bend in the road. The two girls came out on the porch, wringing their hands and crying. Just then there came another sh.e.l.l cras.h.i.+ng through the air and struck in front of the house, plowing a furrow in the ground and throwing dirt all over the porch. The girls skipped into the house and shut the door with a bang. The fire now became a steady roll. Here they come around the bend in the road. They are forming another line of battle, when crack comes another sh.e.l.l, striking through the top of the chimney, the brick and mortar flying in every direction.

Here comes the Johnnies again, the "Yanks" right after them. Bang at bang, pop at pop! See the Johnnies tumbling on every side! See the horses running pell mell, without riders. Here they go right by the house, our brave boys in blue right after them. 'Round the corn-field they go, the fire growing fainter and fainter in the distance. Now the worst part is to come. They commence to bring in the wounded. The first to come was the rebel Colonel, two of our men bearing him on a stretcher. His face was pinched and pale, with the blood oozing out of a wound in his breast. One of our surgeons came and gave me orders to bring in the wounded. As we got on the road where the most desperate part of the battle took place, what a sight met our gaze. All kinds of arms scattered over the ground. Hats, caps and blankets, here a horse and there a horse, struggling in the agony of death, and men scattered all over the ground. Here a Yank and there a Reb, some dead, and others wounded. The rebels suffered the more, for they were taken wholly by surprise.

It was a regular cavalry fight. It was now about ten o'clock, and our infantry began to come up. It did not take long to get the wounded to where they could get care. Our forces took possession of the rebel camp, capturing all their wagons, tents and baggage. There were thirty killed and one hundred wounded. We lost eleven killed and thirty wounded. The wounded were mostly taken close to the house, on account of having them close to the water. The rebel Colonel died before night. We had our ten thousand troops camped within one mile of the house. Now the tables had turned. We were with our own men again.

I know what my comrade soldiers would say. They would say, "Why did you not go and dig up that money?" No, my dear comrades. I went to General Curtis' headquarters and made a report of everything that happened. He gave me strict orders to keep a guard over everything and not allow anything to be taken from the premises; but the next morning there was not a ham or shoulder in the smoke-house or a chicken on the place, and Gen. Curtis himself told the old gentleman that he had better take care of his money, for it was known that he had it. I want to say that the two girls did n.o.bly. They did all that they could for the Yanks as well as the Rebs. We stayed there until the Yankee army pa.s.sed, and the young lady never offered to treat us to that nice peach brandy. The morning that we were to go we shook hands all around, bade them good-bye, and as we were standing on the stoop, Jim spoke:

"We are about to go and you will probably never see us again, and we would like to have some of that nice peach brandy, but would prefer to have it without a.r.s.enic."

The girl turned as white as a sheet and staggered into the house. The old gentleman did not know what ailed the girl, but ordered a negro to bring up a bucket full. We filled our canteens and took a good drink out of the bucket and bade them all good-bye again.

We mounted our horses and started on after our men. We came up to the rear-guard five miles west of Jacksonport. I rode up to headquarters and reported to General Curtis: For the benefit of the reader who does not understand army discipline I want to say that when a soldier or detachment of men was sent out from camp, it did not matter how important or how trifling their mission was, they were expected to go to headquarters and report as soon as they returned. That was to let the officers know what success they had, and also to let them see that they were back again. At this time the rebel guerillas were concentrating their forces at Jacksonport, and the picket post was doubled. The next day after I got back to Jacksonport I was ordered to take twenty-five men and go out to the long bridge in the rear of the town and do picket duty. The guard had been fired on during the night before and one of our sentinels killed. So you may depend we kept a sharp lookout for bushwhackers. Just as we had relieved the old guard and they had disappeared around the roads, one of my guards came running in from the brush and said, "There is a lot of young pigs running around out there."

We all went out but those who were on post, and through the brush we went and got thirteen of them; went back, built a rousing fire of rails, skinned and washed our pigs, and stuck them on sticks all around the fire. A sentry hollered to us that Gen. Curtis and his staff were coming up the road. We formed a line of the guards and as the old General came riding up we presented arms.

"Are you the sergeant of the guards?"

"Yes, sir," said I.

"Well," said the General, "this is a very important post; now you must be very careful and tear up the planks in the middle of the bridge and pile them up at this end, and if the enemy come up set the bridge on fire. You can pile up all the brush and rails under this end of the bridge and have it fixed so you can fire it in three or four places at once." Then the old gentleman looked around and saw the pigs in a line around the fire and said: "h.e.l.lo, what have you here, sergeant?" I was staggered for a moment, but finally blurted out: