A Most Fortunate Encounter.
Walking back to the creek, I reconnoitered a log dwelling, so small and humble that its occupant was probably loyal. In a few minutes, through the early dawn, an old man, with a sack of corn upon his shoulder, came out of the house. He evinced no surprise at seeing me. Looking earnestly into his eyes, I asked him:
"Are you a Union man or a Secessionist?" He replied:
"I don't know who you are; but I am a Union man, and always have been."
"I am a stranger and in trouble. I charge you to tell me the truth."
"I do tell you the truth, and I have two sons in the United States army."
His manner appeared sincere, and he carried a letter of recommendation in his open, honest face. I told him my awkward predicament. He reassured me at once.
"I know Dan Ellis as well as my own brother. No truer man ever lived. What route was he going to take?"
"I heard him say something about Barnet's."
"That is a ford only five miles from here. Barnet is one of the right sort of people. This road will take you to his house. Good-by, my friend, and don't get separated from your party again."
Rejoining Dan and his Party.
I certainly did not need the last injunction. Reaching the ford, Barnet told me that our party had spent several hours in crossing, and was encamped three miles ahead. He took me over the river in his canoe, my mule swimming behind. Half a mile down the road. I met Ellis and Treadaway.
"Ah ha!" said Dan, "we were looking for you. I told the boys not to be uneasy. There are men in our crowd who would have blundered upon some Rebel, told all about us, and so alarmed the country and brought out the Home Guards; but I knew you were discreet enough to take care of yourself, and not endanger us. Let us breakfast at this Union house."
XXIII.Monday, January 9.
"To-day," said Dan Ellis, "we must cross the Big Butte of Rich Mountain."
"How far is it?" I asked.
"It is generally called ten miles; but I suspect it is about fifteen, and a rather hard road at that."
About fifteen, and a rather hard road! It seemed fifty, and a veryVia Dolorosa.
We started at 11a.m.For three miles we followed a winding creek, the horsemen on a slow trot, crossing the stream a dozen times; the footmen keeping up as best they could, and shivering from their frequent baths in the icy waters.
A Terrible Mountain March.
We turned up the sharp side of a snowy mountain. For hours and hours we toiled along, up one rocky,pine-covered hill, down a little declivity, then up another hill, then down again, but constantly gaining in hight. The snow was ten inches deep. Dan averred he had never crossed the mountain when the travel was so hard; but he pushed on, as if death were behind and heaven before.
The rarity of the air at that elevation increased my pneumonic difficulty, and rendered my breath very short. Ellis furnished me with a horse the greater part of the way; but the hills, too steep for riding, compelled us to climb, our poor animals following behind. The pithy proverb, that "it is easy to walk when one leads a horse by the bridle," was hardly true in my case, for it seemed a hundred times to-day as if I could not possibly take another step, but must fall out by the roadside, and let the company go on. But after my impressive lesson of last night, I was hardly likely to halt so long as any locomotive power remained.
Our men and animals, in single file, extended for more than a mile in a weary, tortuous procession, which dragged its slow length along. After hours which appeared interminable, and efforts which seemed impossible, we halted upon a high ridge, brushed the snow from the rocks, and sat down to a cold lunch, beside a clear, bright spring which gushed vigorously from the ground. I ventured to ask:
"Are we near the top?"
"About half way up," was Dan's discouraging reply.
"Come, come, boys; we must pull out!" urged Davis; and, following that irrepressible invalid, we moved forward again.
As we climbed hill after hill, thinking we hadnearly reached the summit, beyond us would still rise another mountain a little higher than the one we stood upon. They seemed to stretch out to the crack of doom.
A Storm Increases the Discomforts.
To increase the discomfort, a violent rain came on. The very memory of this day is wearisome. I pause, thankful to end only a chapter, in the midst of an experience which, judged by my own feelings, appeared likely to end life itself.
It hath been the longest nightThat e'er I watched, and the most heaviest.Two Gentlemen of Verona.
It hath been the longest nightThat e'er I watched, and the most heaviest.Two Gentlemen of Verona.
It hath been the longest nightThat e'er I watched, and the most heaviest.
Two Gentlemen of Verona.
——But for this miracle—I mean our preservation—few in millionsCan speak like us.Tempest.
——But for this miracle—I mean our preservation—few in millionsCan speak like us.Tempest.
——But for this miracle—I mean our preservation—few in millionsCan speak like us.
Tempest.
As I toiled, staggering, up each successive hill, it seemed that this terrible climbing and this torturing day would never end. But Necessity and Hope work miracles, and strength proved equal to the hour.
At 4p.m.the clouds broke, the sun burst out, as we stood on the icy summit, revealing a grand view of mountains, valleys, and streams on every side.
After a brief halt, we began the descent. Our path, trodden only by refugees and prisoners, led by Dan Ellis, had been worn so deep by the water, that, in many places, our bodies were half concealed! How Dan rushed down those steep declivities! It was easy to follow now, and I kept close behind him.
Fording Creeks in the Darkness.
Twilight, dusk, darkness, came on, and again the rain began to pour down. We could not see each other five yards away. We pressed steadily on. We reached the foot of the mountain, and were in a dark, pine-shadowed, winding road, which frequently crossed a swollen, foaming creek. At first Dan hunted for logs; but the darkness made this slow work. He finally abandoned it, and, whenever we came to a stream, plunged in up to the middle, dashed through, and rushed on, with dripping garments. Our cavalcade and procession must have stretched back fully three miles; but every man endeavoredto keep within shouting distance of his immediate predecessor.
Prospect of a Dreary Night.
"We shall camp to-night," said Dan, "at a lonely house two miles from the foot of the mountain."
Reaching the place, we found that, since his last journey, this dwelling had tumbled down, and nothing was left but a labyrinth of timbers and boards. We laboriously propped up a section of the roof. It proved a little protection from the dripping rain, and, while the rest of the party slowly straggled in, Treadaway went to the nearest Union house, to learn the condition of the country. In fifteen minutes we heard the tramp of his returning horse, and could see a fire-brand glimmering through the darkness.
"Something wrong here," said Dan. "There must be danger, or he would not bring fire, expecting us to stay out of doors such a night as this. What is the news, Treadaway?"
"Bad enough," replied the lieutenant, dismounting from his dripping horse, carefully nursing, between two pieces of board, the glowing firebrand. "The Rebel guerrillas are thick and vigilant. A party of them passed here only this evening. I tell you, Dan Ellis, we have got to keep a sharp eye out, if we don't want to be picked up."
All who could find room huddled under the poorly propped roof, which threatened to fall and crush them. Dan and his immediate comrades, with great readiness, improvised a little camp for themselves, so thatching it with boards and shingles that it kept the water off their heads. They were soon asleep, grasping their inseparable rifles and near their horses, from which they never permitted themselves to be far away.
With my two journalistic friends, I deemed restnearly as important as safety, for we needed to accumulate strength. We found our way through the darkness to the nearest Union house. There was a great fire blazing on the hearth; but the little room was crowded with our weary and soaking companions, who had anticipated us.
Sleeping Among the Husks.
We crossed the creek to another dwelling, where the occupant, a life-long invalid, was intensely loyal. With his wife and little son, he greeted us very warmly, adding:
"I wish I could keep you in my house; but it would not be safe. We will give you quilts, and you may sleep among the husks in the barn, where you will be warm and dry. If the Guards come during the night, they will be likely to search the house first, and the boy or the woman can probably give you warning. But, if they do find you, of course you will tell them that we are not privy to your concealment, because, you know, it would be a matter of life and death for me."
We found the husks dry and fragrant, and soon forgot our weariness.
XXIV.Tuesday, January 10.
Breakfasting before daylight, that we might not be seen leaving the house, we sought our rendezvous. Those who had remained in camp were a wet, cold, sorry-looking party.
By nine o'clock, several, who had been among the Union people in the neighborhood, returned, and held a consultation. The accounts of all agreed that, fifteen or twenty miles ahead, the danger was great, and the country exceedingly difficult to pass through. Moreover, the Union forces still appeared to recede as we approached the places where they were reputed to be. We were now certain that there were none at Jonesboro,none at Greenville, probably none east of Strawberry Plains.
Turning Back in Discouragement.
Eight or ten of our party determined to turn back. Among them were three Union soldiers, who had seen service and peril. But they said to us, as they turned to retrace their steps over Rich Mountain:
"It is useless to go on. The party will never get through in the world. Not a single man of it will reach Knoxville, unless he waits till the road is clear."
Ellis and Treadaway listened to them with a quiet smile. The perils ahead did not disturb our serenity, because they were so much lighter than the perils behind. We had left horrors to which all future possibilities were a mercy. We had looked in at the windows of Death, and stood upon the verge of the Life To Be. We doubted not that the difficulties were greatly magnified, and all dangers looked infinitesimal, along the path leading toward home and freedom.
Among those who went back was a North Carolina citizen, accompanied by a little son, the child of his old age. Reluctant to trust himself again to the tender mercies of the Rebels, he was unaccustomed to the war-path, and decided to return to the ills he had, rather than fly to others which he knew not of. Purchasing one of his horses, I was no longer dependent upon the kindness of Ellis and his comrades for a steed.
Before noon we started, following secluded valley paths. The rain ceased and the day was pleasant. At a Union dwelling we came upon the hot track of eight guerrillas, who had been there only an hour before. The Rebel-hunting instinct waxed strong within Dan, and, taking eight of his own men, he started in fierce pursuit, leaving Treadaway in charge of the company.
Before dark we reached Kelly's Gap, camping in anold orchard, beside a large farm-house with many ample out-buildings. The place was now deserted. One of our guides explained:
"A Union man lived here, and he was hanged last year upon that apple-tree. They cut him down, however, before he died, and he fled from the country."
Tying our horses to the trees, we parched corn for supper. Fires were kindled in the buildings, giving the place a genial appearance as night closed in.
A Rebel Prisoner Brought In.
After dark, Dan and his comrades returned. The whole party of guerrillas had very narrowly escaped them. They captured one, and brought him in a prisoner. One of the out-buildings was cleared, and he was placed in it, under two volunteer guards armed with rifles. He was not more than twenty-two years old, and had a heavy, stolid face. He steadily denied that he was a guerrilla, asserting that he had been in the Rebel army, had deserted from it, taken the oath of allegiance to the United States while at Knoxville, and was now trying to live quietly.
Some of Ellis's men believed that he had broken his oath of allegiance, and was the most obnoxious of the guerrillas. In his presence they discussed freely the manner of disposing of him. Some advocated taking him to Knoxville, and turning him over to the authorities. Others, who seemed to be a majority, urged taking him out into the orchard and shooting him. This counsel seemed likely to prevail. Several of the men who gave it had seen brothers or fathers murdered by the Rebels.
The prisoner had little intelligence, and talked only when addressed. I could but admire the external stolidity with which he listened to these discussions. One of his judges and would-be executioners asked him:
"Well, sir, what have you to say for yourself?"
"I am in your hands," he replied, without moving a muscle; "you can kill me if you want to; but I have kept the oath of allegiance, and I am innocent of the charges you bring against me."
After some further debate, a Union officer from East Tennessee said.
"He may deserve death, and he probably does. But we are not murderers, and he shall not be shot. I will use my own revolver on anybody who attempts it. Let us hear no more of these taunts. No brave man will insult a prisoner."
It was at last decided to take him to Knoxville. He bore this decision with the same silence he had manifested at the prospect of death.
During this scene Dan was absent. He had gone to the nearest Union house to learn the news, for every loyal family in a range of many hundred miles knew and loved him. We, very weary, lay down to sleep in an old orchard, with our saddles for pillows. Our reflections were pleasant. We were only seventy-nine miles from the Union lines. We progressed swimmingly, and had even begun to regulate the domestic affairs of the border!
An Alarm at Midnight.
Before midnight some one shook my arm. I rubbed my eyes open and looked up. There was Dan Ellis.
"Boys, we must saddle instantly. We have walked right into a nest of Rebels. Several hundred are within a few miles; eighty are in this immediate vicinity. They are lying in ambush for Colonel Kirk and his men. It is doubtful whether we can ever get out of this. We must divide into two parties. The footmen must take to the mountains; we who are riding, and in much greaterdanger—as horses make more noise, and leave so many traces—must press on at once, if we ever hope to."
The word was passed in low tones. Our late prisoner, no longer an object of interest, was allowed to wander away at his own sweet will. Flinging our saddles upon our weary horses, we were in motion almost instantly. My place was near the middle of the cavalcade. The man just before me was riding a white horse, which enabled me to follow him with ease.
We galloped along at Dan's usual pace, with sublime indifference to roads—up and down rocky hills, across streams, through swamps, over fences—everywhere but upon public thoroughfares.
A Young Lady for a Guide.
I supposed we had traveled three miles, when Davis fell back from the front, and said to me:
"That young lady rides very well, does she not?"
"What young lady?"
"The young lady who is piloting us."
I had thought Dan Ellis was piloting us, and rode forward to see about the young lady.
There she was! I could not scrutinize her face in the darkness, but it was said to be comely. I could see that her form was graceful, and the ease and firmness with which she sat on her horse would have been a lesson for a riding-master.
The Nameless Heroine.
She was a member of the loyal family to which Dan had gone for news. The moment she learned his need, she volunteered to pilot him out of that neighborhood, where she was born and bred, and knew every acre. The only accessible horse (one belonging to a Rebel officer, but just then kept in her father's barn) was brought out and saddled. She mounted, came to our camp at midnight, and was now stealthily guiding us—avoidingfarm-houses where the Rebels were quartered, going round their camps, evading their pickets.
She led us for seven miles. Then, while we remained in the wood, she rode forward over the long bridge which spanned the Nolechucky River (now to be crossed a second time), to see if there were any guards upon it; went to the first Union house beyond, to learn whether the roads were picketed; came back, and told us the coast was clear. Then she rode by our long line toward her home. Had it been safe to cheer, we should certainly have given three times three for theNameless Heroine19who did us such vital kindness. "Benisons upon her dear head forever!"
The "Nameless Heroine" Piloting the Escaping Prisoners out of a Rebel Ambush.The "Nameless Heroine" Piloting the Escaping Prisoners out of a Rebel Ambush.The "Nameless Heroine" Piloting the Escaping Prisoners out of a Rebel Ambush.Click to view larger image.
The "Nameless Heroine" Piloting the Escaping Prisoners out of a Rebel Ambush.
Click to view larger image.
——Fortune is merry,And in this mood will give us any thing.Julius Cæsar.
——Fortune is merry,And in this mood will give us any thing.Julius Cæsar.
——Fortune is merry,And in this mood will give us any thing.
Julius Cæsar.
The night is long that never finds the day.Macbeth.
The night is long that never finds the day.Macbeth.
The night is long that never finds the day.
Macbeth.
Among the Delectable Mountains.
Relieved again from immediate danger, every thing seemed like a blessed dream. I was haunted by the fear of waking to find myself in the old bunk at Salisbury, with its bare and squalid surroundings.
We were often compelled to walk and lead our weary animals. The rushing creeks were perilous to cross by night. The rugged mountains were appalling to our aching limbs and frost-bitten feet. The Union houses, where we obtained food and counsel, were often humble and rude. But we had vanquished the Giant Despair, and come up from the Valley of the Shadow of Death. To our eyes, each icy stream was the River of Life. The frowning cliffs, with their cruel rocks, were the very Delectable Mountains; and every friendly log cabin was the Palace called Beautiful.
After our fair guide left us, Dan's foot was on his native heath. Familiar with the road, he pressed on like a Fate, without mercy to man or beast. After the late heavy rains it was now growing intensely cold. A crust, not yet hard enough to bear, was forming upon the mud, and at every step our poor horses sunk to the fetlocks.
Even with frequent walking I found it difficult to keep up the circulation in my own sensitive feet; but the severe admonition of one frost-bite had taught me to be very cautious. A young North Carolinian, ridinga mule, wore nothing upon his feet except a pair of cotton stockings; that he kept from freezing is one of the unsolved mysteries of human endurance.
Passing a few miles north of Greenville, at four o'clock in the morning, we had accomplished twenty-five miles, despite all our weakness and weariness.
This brought us to Lick Creek, which proved too much swollen for fording. An old Loyalist, living on the bank, assured us that guerrillas were numerous and vigilant. Should we never leave them behind?
Ascending the stream for three miles, we crossed upon the only bridge in that whole region. Here, at least, our rear was protected; because, if pursued, we could tear up the planks. Soon after dawn, upon a hill-side in the pine woods, we dismounted, and huddled around our fires, a weary, hungry, morose, and melancholy company.
Separation from "Junius."
XXV.Wednesday, January 11.
As we drowsed upon the pine leaves, I asked:
"When shall we join the footmen?"
"After we reach Knoxville," was Dan Ellis's reply.
This was a source of uneasiness to Davis and myself, because we had left "Junius" behind. He was offered a horse when we started, at midnight. Supposing, like ourselves, that the parties would re-unite in a few hours, and tired of riding without a saddle, he declined, and cast his lot among the footmen. It was the first separation since our capture. Our fates had been so long cast together, that we meant to keep them united until deliverance should come for one or both, either through life or death. But Treadaway was an excellent pilot, and the footmen, able to take paths through the mountains where no cavalry could follow them, would probably have less difficulty than we.
Union Women Scrutinizing the Yankee.
I found an old man splitting rails, down in a wooded ravine two or three hundred yards from our camp. While he went to his house, a mile distant, to bring me food, I threw myself on the ground beside his fire and slept like a baby. In an hour, he returned with a basket containing a great plate of the inevitable bread and pork. He was accompanied by his wife and daughter, who wanted to look at the Yankee. Coarse-featured and hard-handed, they were smoking long pipes; but they were not devoid of womanly tenderness, and earnestly asked if they could do any thing to help us.
About noon we broke camp, and compelled our half-dead horses to move on. The road was clearer and safer than we anticipated. At the first farm which afforded corn, we stopped two or three hours to feed and rest the poor brutes.
Three of us rode forward to a Union house, and asked for dinner. The woman, whose husband belonged to the Sixteenth (loyal) Tennessee Infantry, prepared it at once; but it was an hour before we fully convinced her that we were not Rebels in disguise.
We passed through Russelville soon after dark, and, two miles beyond, made a camp in the deep woods. The night was very cold, and despite the expostulations of Dan Ellis, who feared they belonged to a Union man, we gathered and fired huge piles of rails, one on either side of us. Making a bed between them of the soft, fragrant twigs of the pine, we supped upon burnt corn in the ear. By replenishing our great fires once an hour we spent the night comfortably.
XXVI.Thursday, January 12.
At our farm-house breakfast this morning, a sister of Lieutenant Treadaway was our hostess. She gave us aninviting meal, in which coffee, sugar, and butter, which had long been only reminiscences to us, were the leading constituents.
By ten we were again upon the road. Two or three of our armed men kept the advance as scouts, but we now journeyed with comparative impunity.
"Slide Down Off that Horse."
Some of our young men, who had long been hunted by the Rebels, embraced every possible opportunity of turning the tables. No haste, weariness, or danger could induce them to omit following the track of guerrillas, wherever there was reasonable hope of finding the game. On the road to-day, one of these footmen met a citizen riding a fine horse.
"What are you, Southerner or Union?" asked the boy, playing with the hammer of his rifle.
"Well," replied the old Tennesseean, a good deal alarmed, "I have kept out of the war from the beginning; I have not helped either side."
"Come! come! That will never do. You don't take me for a fool, do you? You never could have lived in this country without being either one thing or the other. Are you Union or Secession?"
"I voted for Secession."
"Tell the entire truth."
"Well, sir, I do; I have two sons in Johnson's army. I was an original Secessionist, and I am as good a Southern man as you can find in the State of Tennessee."
"All right, my old friend; just slide down off that horse."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that you are just the man I have been looking for, in walking about a hundred miles—a good Southerner with a good horse! I am a Yankee; we are all Yankees; so slide down, and be quick about it."
Accompanied by the clicking of the rifle, the injunction was not to be despised. The rider came down, the boy mounted and galloped up the road, while the old citizen walked slowly homeward, with many a longing, lingering look behind.
We traveled twenty-five miles to-day, and at night made our camp in the pine woods near Friend's Station.
Friendly Words but Hostile Eyes.
As the country was now comparatively safe, Davis and myself went in pursuit of beds. At the first house, two women assured us that they were good Union people, and very sorry they had not a single vacant couch. Their words were unexceptionable, but I could not see the welcome in their eyes. We afterward inquired, and found that they were violent Rebels.
The next dwelling was a roomy old farm-house, with pleasant and generous surroundings. In answer to our rap, a white-haired patriarch of seventy came to the door.
"Can you give us supper and lodging to-night, and breakfast in the morning? We will pay you liberally, and be greatly obliged beside."
"I should be glad to entertain you," he replied, in tremulous, childish treble, "but to-night my daughters are all gone to a frolic. I have no one in the house except my wife, who, like myself, is old and feeble."
Hospitalities of a Loyal Patriarch.
The lady, impelled by curiosity, now appearing, we repeated the request to her, with all the suavity and persuasiveness at our command, for we were hungry and tired, and the place looked inviting. She dryly gave us the same answer, but began to talk a little. Presently we again inquired:
"Will you be good enough to accommodate us, or must we look farther?"
"What are you, anyhow?"
"Union men—Yankees, escaped from the Salisbury prison."
"Why didn't you say so before? Of course I can give you supper! Come in, all of you!" The old lady prepared us the most palatable meal we had yet found, and told us the usual stories of the war. For hours, by the log fire, we talked with the aged couple, who had three sons carrying muskets in the Union army, and who loved the Cause with earnest, enthusiastic devotion. We were no longer apprehensive; for they assured us that the Rebels had never yet searched their premises.
In this respect they had been singularly fortunate. Theirs was the only one among the hundreds of Union houses we entered, which had not been despoiled by Rebel marauders. More than once the Confederates had taken from them grain and hay to the value of hundreds of dollars; but their dwelling had always been respected.
XXVII.Friday, January 13.
My poor steed gave signs of approaching dissolution; and I asked the first man I saw by the roadside:
"Would you like a horse?"
"Certainly, stranger."
"Very well, take this one."
I handed him the bridle, and he led the animal away with a look of wonder; but it could not have taken him long to comprehend the nature of my generosity. Several other horses in the party had died or were left behind as worthless.
Our journey—originally estimated at two hundred miles—had now grown into two hundred and ninety-five by the roads. In view of our devious windings,we deemed three hundred and forty miles a very moderate estimate of the distance we had traveled.
"Out of the Mouth of Hell."
At ten o'clock on the morning of this twenty-seventh day, came our great deliverance. It was at Strawberry Plains, fifteen miles east of Knoxville. Here—after a final march of seven miles, in which our heavy feet and aching limbs grew wonderfully light and agile—in silence, with bowed heads, with full hearts and with wet eyes, we saluted the Old Flag.20
Listen:[audio/mpeg][audio/ogg; codecs=opus][midi]Sheet Music:[pdf]Music xml:[xml]The transcriptions of these files from public domain sources are dedicated to the public domain by the transcriber.
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A SONG FOR THE "NAMELESS HEROINE" WHO AIDED THE ESCAPING PRISONERS.
"Benisons on her dear head forever."
Words and Music composed by B. R. HANBY.
(Published byJohn Church, Jr., 66 West Fourth Street, Cincinnati, Ohio.)
1.Out of the jaws of death,Out of the mouth of hell,Weary and hungry, and fainting and sore,Fiends on the track of them,Fiends at the back of them,Fiends all around but an an-gel be-fore.CHORUS.Fiends all a-round but an an-gel be-fore!Blessings be thine, loyal maid, ev-er-more!Fiends all around, but an an-gel be-fore,Blessings be thine, lo-yal maid, ev-er-more.2.Out by the mountain path,Down thro' the darksome glen,Heedless of foes, nor at dan-ger dismayed,Sharing their doubtful fate,Daring the tyrant's hate,Heart of a lion, though form of a maid;CHORUS.Hail to the an-gel who goes on be-fore,Blessings be thine, loyal maid, ev-er-more!Hail to the an-gel who goes on be-fore,Blessings be thine, lo-yal maid, ev-er-more.3."Nameless," for foes may hear,But by our love for thee,Soon our bright sabers shall blush with their gore.Then shall our banner free,Wave, maiden, over thee:Then, noble girl, thou'lt be nameless no more.CHORUS.Then we shall hail thee from moun-tain to shore,Bless thy brave heart, loyal maid, ev-er-more!Then we shall hail thee from moun-tain to shore,Bless thy brave heart, lo-yal maid, ev-er-more.
1.Out of the jaws of death,Out of the mouth of hell,Weary and hungry, and fainting and sore,Fiends on the track of them,Fiends at the back of them,Fiends all around but an an-gel be-fore.
CHORUS.Fiends all a-round but an an-gel be-fore!Blessings be thine, loyal maid, ev-er-more!Fiends all around, but an an-gel be-fore,Blessings be thine, lo-yal maid, ev-er-more.
2.Out by the mountain path,Down thro' the darksome glen,Heedless of foes, nor at dan-ger dismayed,Sharing their doubtful fate,Daring the tyrant's hate,Heart of a lion, though form of a maid;
CHORUS.Hail to the an-gel who goes on be-fore,Blessings be thine, loyal maid, ev-er-more!Hail to the an-gel who goes on be-fore,Blessings be thine, lo-yal maid, ev-er-more.
3."Nameless," for foes may hear,But by our love for thee,Soon our bright sabers shall blush with their gore.Then shall our banner free,Wave, maiden, over thee:Then, noble girl, thou'lt be nameless no more.
CHORUS.Then we shall hail thee from moun-tain to shore,Bless thy brave heart, loyal maid, ev-er-more!Then we shall hail thee from moun-tain to shore,Bless thy brave heart, lo-yal maid, ev-er-more.
The "Nameless Heroine."The "Nameless Heroine."The "Nameless Heroine."Click to view larger image.
The "Nameless Heroine."
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1Vernacular for carrying a load upon the back of a man or animal.2In Mexico, General Twiggs, while applying some preparation to a wound in his head, found it restoring his hair to its natural color. An enterprising nostrum-vender at once placed in market and advertised largely something which he styled the "Twiggs Hair Dye." Dr. Holmes makes the incident a target for one of his Parthian arrows:—"How many a youthful head we've seen put on its silver crown!What sudden changes back again, to youth's empurpled brown!But how to tell what's old or young—the tap-root from the sprigs,Since Florida revealed her fount to Ponce de Leon Twiggs?"3Creole means "native;" but its New Orleans application is only to persons of French or Spanish descent.4He never weighed over ninety-six pounds, and, to see his attenuated figure bent over his desk, the shoulders contracted, and the shape of his slender limbs visible through his garments, a stranger would select him as the John Randolph of our time. He has the appearance of having undergone great bodily anguish.—Newspaper Biography of Alexander H. Stephens.5By the last census report, the whole number of escaping fugitives in the United States, in the year 1860, was eight hundred and three, being a trifle overone-fiftieth of one per cent.upon the whole number of slaves. Of these, it is probable that the greater part fled to places of refuge in the South, the Dismal Swamp, everglades of Florida, southern mountain regions, and the northern States of Mexico.—Everett's New York Oration, July 4, 1861.6Dixie's Land is a synonym for heaven. It appears that there was once a good planter named Dixie, who died at some period unknown, to the intense grief of his animated property. They found expression for their sorrow in song, and consoled themselves by clamoring in verse for their removal to the land to which Dixie had departed, and where probably the renewed spirit would be greatly surprised to find himself in their company. Whether they were ill treated after he died, and thus had reason to deplore his removal, or merely desired heaven in the abstract, nothing known enables me to assert. But Dixie's Land is now generally taken to be the Seceded States, where Mr. Dixie certainly is not at the present writing.—Russell's Diary in America.7This gentleman went to Charleston openly forThe Times, and constantly insisted that a candid and truthful correspondent of any northern paper could travel through the South without serious difficulty. He was daily declaring that the devil was not so black as he is painted, denying charges brought against Charlestonians by the northern press, and sometimes evidently straining a point in his own convictions to say a kind word for them. But, during the storming of Sumter, he was suddenly arrested, robbed, and imprisoned in a filthy cell for several days. He was at last permitted to go; but the mob had become excited against him, and with difficulty he escaped with his life. No other correspondent was subjected to such gross indignities. "Jasper" reached Washington, having obtained a good deal of new and valuable information about South Carolina character.8Of course the folly was not all on one side. Few northerners, up to the attack on Sumter, thought the Rebels would do any thing but threaten. And long after this error was exploded, our ablest journals were fond of contrasting the resources of the two sections, and demonstrating therefrom, with mathematical precision, that the war could not last long; that the superiority of the North in men and money would make the subjugation of the South a short and easy task. But they did not commit the egregious blunder of imputing cowardice to any class of native-born Americans.9Now (April, 1865), while we are witnessing some of the closing scenes of the war, subscriptions to the popular loan of the Government come pouring in from the West more largely, according to wealth and population, than from any other section.10From the Spanishcorral, a yard. Upon our frontier it is used, colloquially, as a verb, to signify surrounded, captured, completely in the power, or at the mercy, of another.11Through severest trials, and cruel neglect from our Government, they never swerved a hair's-breadth. Before our troops opened East Tennessee, enough left their homes, coming stealthily through the mountains and enlisting in the Union army, to make sixteen regiments.12The leniency of the Government toward these men was remarkable. For many months after the war began, Breckinridge, in the United States Senate, and Burnett, in the House of Representatives, uttered defiant treason, for which they were not only pardoned, but paid by the Government they were attempting to overthrow. As late as August, 1861, after Bull Run, after Wilson Creek, Buckner visited Washington, was allowed to inspect the fortifications, and went almost directly thence to Richmond. When he next returned to Kentucky, it was at the head of an invading Rebel army.13So called, though nearly all its members came from Cincinnati.14This officer was a native Missourian, deemed trustworthy, and thoroughly familiar with the country. He reported officially to Fremont that the whole Rebel army was within eleven miles of us, when it was really fifty miles away. Then, indeed, much later in the war, accurate information about the enemy seemed absolutely unattainable. Scott, McClellan, Halleck, Grant, all failed to procure it. Rosecrans was the first general who kept himself thoroughly advised of the whereabouts, strength, and designs of the Rebels.15Commander, not of the tug, whose captain was killed, but of the soldiers guarding it and the barges.16A species of Southern oak.17Our Government, upon learning of this, ordered the commandant at Fortress Monroe, the moment he should learn, officially or otherwise, that Sawyer and Flynn had been executed, to shoot in retaliation two Rebel officers—sons of Generals Lee and Winder. On the reception of this news in the Richmond papers at daylight one morning, the prisoners cheered and shouted with delight. As they supposed, that settled the question. Nothing more was heard about executing our officers; and soon after, Sawyer and Flynn were exchanged, months before their less fortunate comrades.18Captain Thomas, in the character of a French lady, took passage on the steamer at Baltimore, with several followers disguised as mechanics. Near Point Lookout they overpowered the crew and captured the vessel, converting her into a privateer. Afterward, while attempting to repeat the enterprise, they were made prisoners.19Nameless no more. The substantial closing of the war, while these pages are in press, renders it safe to give her name—MissMelvina Stevens.20Knoxville, Tennessee, January 13, 1865."Out of the jaws of Death; out of the mouth of Hell."Albert D. Richardson.Tribune,January 14, 1865.
1Vernacular for carrying a load upon the back of a man or animal.
2In Mexico, General Twiggs, while applying some preparation to a wound in his head, found it restoring his hair to its natural color. An enterprising nostrum-vender at once placed in market and advertised largely something which he styled the "Twiggs Hair Dye." Dr. Holmes makes the incident a target for one of his Parthian arrows:—
"How many a youthful head we've seen put on its silver crown!What sudden changes back again, to youth's empurpled brown!But how to tell what's old or young—the tap-root from the sprigs,Since Florida revealed her fount to Ponce de Leon Twiggs?"
"How many a youthful head we've seen put on its silver crown!What sudden changes back again, to youth's empurpled brown!But how to tell what's old or young—the tap-root from the sprigs,Since Florida revealed her fount to Ponce de Leon Twiggs?"
3Creole means "native;" but its New Orleans application is only to persons of French or Spanish descent.
4He never weighed over ninety-six pounds, and, to see his attenuated figure bent over his desk, the shoulders contracted, and the shape of his slender limbs visible through his garments, a stranger would select him as the John Randolph of our time. He has the appearance of having undergone great bodily anguish.—Newspaper Biography of Alexander H. Stephens.
5By the last census report, the whole number of escaping fugitives in the United States, in the year 1860, was eight hundred and three, being a trifle overone-fiftieth of one per cent.upon the whole number of slaves. Of these, it is probable that the greater part fled to places of refuge in the South, the Dismal Swamp, everglades of Florida, southern mountain regions, and the northern States of Mexico.—Everett's New York Oration, July 4, 1861.
6Dixie's Land is a synonym for heaven. It appears that there was once a good planter named Dixie, who died at some period unknown, to the intense grief of his animated property. They found expression for their sorrow in song, and consoled themselves by clamoring in verse for their removal to the land to which Dixie had departed, and where probably the renewed spirit would be greatly surprised to find himself in their company. Whether they were ill treated after he died, and thus had reason to deplore his removal, or merely desired heaven in the abstract, nothing known enables me to assert. But Dixie's Land is now generally taken to be the Seceded States, where Mr. Dixie certainly is not at the present writing.—Russell's Diary in America.
7This gentleman went to Charleston openly forThe Times, and constantly insisted that a candid and truthful correspondent of any northern paper could travel through the South without serious difficulty. He was daily declaring that the devil was not so black as he is painted, denying charges brought against Charlestonians by the northern press, and sometimes evidently straining a point in his own convictions to say a kind word for them. But, during the storming of Sumter, he was suddenly arrested, robbed, and imprisoned in a filthy cell for several days. He was at last permitted to go; but the mob had become excited against him, and with difficulty he escaped with his life. No other correspondent was subjected to such gross indignities. "Jasper" reached Washington, having obtained a good deal of new and valuable information about South Carolina character.
8Of course the folly was not all on one side. Few northerners, up to the attack on Sumter, thought the Rebels would do any thing but threaten. And long after this error was exploded, our ablest journals were fond of contrasting the resources of the two sections, and demonstrating therefrom, with mathematical precision, that the war could not last long; that the superiority of the North in men and money would make the subjugation of the South a short and easy task. But they did not commit the egregious blunder of imputing cowardice to any class of native-born Americans.
9Now (April, 1865), while we are witnessing some of the closing scenes of the war, subscriptions to the popular loan of the Government come pouring in from the West more largely, according to wealth and population, than from any other section.
10From the Spanishcorral, a yard. Upon our frontier it is used, colloquially, as a verb, to signify surrounded, captured, completely in the power, or at the mercy, of another.
11Through severest trials, and cruel neglect from our Government, they never swerved a hair's-breadth. Before our troops opened East Tennessee, enough left their homes, coming stealthily through the mountains and enlisting in the Union army, to make sixteen regiments.
12The leniency of the Government toward these men was remarkable. For many months after the war began, Breckinridge, in the United States Senate, and Burnett, in the House of Representatives, uttered defiant treason, for which they were not only pardoned, but paid by the Government they were attempting to overthrow. As late as August, 1861, after Bull Run, after Wilson Creek, Buckner visited Washington, was allowed to inspect the fortifications, and went almost directly thence to Richmond. When he next returned to Kentucky, it was at the head of an invading Rebel army.
13So called, though nearly all its members came from Cincinnati.
14This officer was a native Missourian, deemed trustworthy, and thoroughly familiar with the country. He reported officially to Fremont that the whole Rebel army was within eleven miles of us, when it was really fifty miles away. Then, indeed, much later in the war, accurate information about the enemy seemed absolutely unattainable. Scott, McClellan, Halleck, Grant, all failed to procure it. Rosecrans was the first general who kept himself thoroughly advised of the whereabouts, strength, and designs of the Rebels.
15Commander, not of the tug, whose captain was killed, but of the soldiers guarding it and the barges.
16A species of Southern oak.
17Our Government, upon learning of this, ordered the commandant at Fortress Monroe, the moment he should learn, officially or otherwise, that Sawyer and Flynn had been executed, to shoot in retaliation two Rebel officers—sons of Generals Lee and Winder. On the reception of this news in the Richmond papers at daylight one morning, the prisoners cheered and shouted with delight. As they supposed, that settled the question. Nothing more was heard about executing our officers; and soon after, Sawyer and Flynn were exchanged, months before their less fortunate comrades.
18Captain Thomas, in the character of a French lady, took passage on the steamer at Baltimore, with several followers disguised as mechanics. Near Point Lookout they overpowered the crew and captured the vessel, converting her into a privateer. Afterward, while attempting to repeat the enterprise, they were made prisoners.
19Nameless no more. The substantial closing of the war, while these pages are in press, renders it safe to give her name—MissMelvina Stevens.
20Knoxville, Tennessee, January 13, 1865.
"Out of the jaws of Death; out of the mouth of Hell."
"Out of the jaws of Death; out of the mouth of Hell."
Albert D. Richardson.Tribune,January 14, 1865.