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Page 4
THIRTEEN MONTHS IN THE REBEL ARMY.
CHAPTER I.
HOW I VOLUNTEERED.
Object in going to Arkansas. -- Change of Purpose. -- Young
Acquaintances. -- Questioned on Slavery. -- Letter to my
Parents. -- Unfortunate Clause. -- A Midnight Call. --
Warlike Preparations. -- Good Advice. -- Honor among
Lynchers. -- Arrival at Court of Judge Lynch. -- Character
of Jury. -- Trial commenced. -- Indictment and Argument. --
Excitement increases. -- Butler Cavins and his Lariat. --
The Crisis. -- The Acquittal. -- No Safety from it. -- First
Impulse and subsequent Reflection. -- Attempted Escape. --
Night Ride. -- Helena. -- An Uneasy Boat Bide. -- Memphis.
-- "A Blue Jacket." -- Committee of Public Safety. -- A
Surprise. -- Dismissal followed by Unwelcome Letter and
Policeman. -- Recruiting Station. -- Volunteering.
Having spent my boyhood near Louisville, Kentucky, and falling in
love with the character of the young men of that chivalric State, I
found my way back to that region in the beginning of the year 1861,
from my home in the city of New York. In March, I went down the
Mississippi river to seek a school, and stopped in Arkansas, where I
hoped to find a relative who was engaged in teaching. Failing to
find either my kinsman or a remunerative school, I entered into
partnership with a young man from Memphis named George Davis, for
the purpose of getting out wine-cask staves, to be shipped to New
Orleans and from thence to France. We located in Phillips county,
Arkansas, bordering on the St. Francis river, more than 100 miles
from Memphis. The venture proved profitable, and with five hired
hands--Frenchmen--we were making money fast enough to satisfy a
moderate ambition, and I had time to look about me and study the
various phases of Arkansas society.
Frequent log-rollings--meetings of the neighbors to clear away the
dead timber which falls during the winter--brought me into contact
with the citizens for miles around. All sought acquaintance with the
stranger youth, and were generally courteous and friendly. In trials
of strength and skill, I occasionally gained an advantage which
made me friends among the older, but evidently waked up envy in the
breasts of some of the rougher young men. My refusal to drink with
the crowd, also widened the breach which I noticed was forming
without any cause on my part.
I was often sounded on the subject of slavery, which is the
touchstone always used in the South to test the character of a
new-comer. As a young man, I had no very fixed views upon the
subject. I had the impression that where it existed it should be
left to the control of those who were connected with it; and an
outsider, as I was, had better keep hands off, so far at least as
any direct efforts were concerned. Nor had I any disposition to
promulgate the anti-slavery convictions of my boyhood, since I well
knew they could have no good effect there; and as I had met a few
radical and half-crazy men in the North, whom I could not avoid
opposing, I was able to say some truthful things respecting them,
which conciliated my questioners. Yet I would not include the great
body of Northerners, whom I admitted I had met in my Kentucky
residence (I hailed from Kentucky), as of that hated class called by
them "abolitionist;" hence they still looked upon me with a shade of
suspicion.
Freedom of opinion in the South upon this subject is not tolerated
for a moment, and no honest anti-slavery man was safe for an hour in
that section. But as I was only a youth, they were willing to
suppose I knew but little of the subject, and I thought that they
were satisfied I was not a dangerous resident of their State. While
things were in this condition I concluded to write to my parents,
who I knew were anxious to hear from me; but I dared not direct a
letter to New York, and hence inclosed it in an envelope to a friend
near Louisville, Kentucky, with the request that he would "hand it
to my father as soon as convenient," not doubting that he would
direct and mail it to New York. In this letter, cautiously written,
I remarked, "This is a hard place to live in, as I had to ride ten
miles to get paper and ink to write this letter;" an unfortunate
statement, as will soon appear. The letter was deposited in the
post-office on April 16th. I went home, and, as if urged by a
guardian, though warlike, spirit, cleaned up my two six-shooters,
and, after examining my ammunition, laid them away unloaded. On the
night of April 17th, 1861, I was awakened out of a sound sleep about
11 o'clock by three men, who requested me to accompany them to
Jeffersonville, a small town on the St. Francis river, eight miles
distant. These men I had often met. One of them I regarded as a good
friend, and had some confidence in the other two. I asked for time
to dress and get ready, which they cheerfully granted. I carefully
loaded and capped my "Navies," and saddling my horse started with
them, like Paul, "not knowing what was to befall me there," but I
fear without much of the spirit of the good apostle, of whom I had
learned in the pious home of my childhood. I soon found these
"carnal weapons" essential safeguards in that place, though if I had
been an apostle I might not have needed them.
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