Historical Tales Volume Ii Part 18

Streight now decided to get on with pack-mules, and the wagons were bunched and set on fire, the command leaving them burning as it moved on. They did not burn long. Forrest's advance came on with a yell, swept the Federal rear-guard from the village, and made all haste to extinguish the flames, the wagons furnis.h.i.+ng them a rich and much-needed supply. Few horses or mules, however, were to be had, as Streight's men had swept the country as far as they could reach on both sides of the road.

On went the raiders and on came their pursuers, heading east, keeping in close touch, and skirmis.h.i.+ng briskly as they went, for ten miles more.

This brought them to a branch of the Black Warrior River. The ford reached by the Federals was rocky, and they had their foe close in the rear, but by an active use of skirmishers and of his two howitzers Straight managed to get his command across and to hold the ford until a brief rest was taken.

The Yankee troopers were not long on the road again before Forrest was over the stream, and the hot chase was on once more. The night that followed was the fourth night of the chase, which had been kept up with only brief s.n.a.t.c.hes of rest and with an almost incessant contest. On the morning of the 2d the skirmis.h.i.+ng briskly began again, Forrest with an advance troop attacking the Federal rear-guard, and fighting almost without intermission during the fifteen miles ride to Black Creek.

Here was a deep and sluggish stream walled in with very high banks. It was spanned at the road by a wooden bridge, over which Colonel Streight rushed his force at top speed, and at once set the bridge on fire, facing about with his howitzers to check pursuit. One man was left on the wrong side of the stream, and was captured by Forrest himself as he dashed up to the blazing bridge at the head of his men.

Colonel Streight might now reasonably believe that he had baffled his foe for a time, and might safely take the repose so greatly needed. The stream was said to be too deep to ford, and the nearest bridge, two miles away, was a mere wreck, impa.s.sable for horses. Forrest was in a quandary as to how he should get over that sluggish but deep ditch, and stood looking at it in dismay. He was obliged to wait in any event, for his artillery and the bulk of his command had been far outridden. In this dilemma the problem was solved for him by a country girl who lived near by, Emma Sanson by name. Near the burning bridge was a little one-storied, four-roomed house, in which dwelt the widow Sanson and her two daughters. She had two sons in the service, and the three women, like many in similar circ.u.mstances in the Confederacy, were living as best they could.

The girl Emma watched with deep interest the rapid flight, the burning of the bridge, and the headlong pursuit of the Confederate troop. Seeing Forrest looking with a dubious countenance at the dark stream, she came up and accosted him.

"You are after those Yankees?" she asked.

"I should think so," said Forrest, "and would give my best hat to get across this ugly ditch."

"I think you can do it," she replied.

"Aha! my good girl. That is news worth more than my old hat. How is it to be done? Let me know at once."

"I know a place near our farm where I have often seen cows wade across when the water was low. If you will lend me a horse to put my saddle on, I will show you the place."

"There's no time for that; get up behind me," cried Forrest.

In a second's time the alert girl was on the horse behind him. As they were about to ride off her mother came out and asked, in a frightened tone, where she was going. Forrest explained and promised to bring her back safe, and in a moment more was off. The ride was not a long one, the place sought being soon reached. Here the general and his guide quickly dismounted, the girl leading down a ravine to the water's edge, where Forrest examined the depth and satisfied himself that the place might prove fordable.

Mounting again, they rode back, now under fire, for a sharp engagement was going on across the creek between the Confederates and the Federal rear-guard. Forrest was profuse in his thanks as he left the quick-witted girl at her home. He gave her as reward a horse and also wrote her a note of thanks, and asked her to send him a lock of her hair, which he would be glad to have and cherish in memory of her service to the cause.

The Lost Ford, as the place has since been called, proved available, the horses finding foothold, while the ammunition was taken from the caissons and carried across by the hors.e.m.e.n. This done, the guns and empty caissons were pulled across by ropes, and soon all was in readiness to take up the chase again.

Colonel Streight had reached Gadsden, four miles away, when to his surprise and dismay he heard once more the shouts of his indefatigable foemen as they rode up at full speed. It seemed as if nothing could stop the sleuth-hounds on his track. For the succeeding fifteen miles there was a continual skirmish, and, when Streight halted to rest, the fight became so sharp that his weary men were forced to take to the road again. Rest was not for them, with Forrest in their rear. Streight here tried for the last time his plan of ambuscading his enemy, but the wide-awake Forrest was not to be taken in as before, and by a flank movement compelled the weary Federals to resume their march.

All that night they rode despondently on, crossing the Chattanooga River on a bridge which they burned behind them, and by sunrise reaching Cedar Bluff, twenty-eight miles from Gadsden. At nine o'clock they stopped to feed, and the worn-out men had no sooner touched the ground than they were dead asleep. Forrest had taken the opportunity to give his men a night's rest, detaching two hundred of them to follow the Federals and "devil them all night." Streight had also detached two hundred of his best-mounted men, bidding them to march to Rome and hold the bridge at that place. But Forrest had shrewdly sent a fast rider to the same place, and when Russell got up he found the bridge strongly held and his enterprise hopeless.

When May 3 dawned the hot chase was near its end. Forrest had given his men ten hours' sleep while Streight's worn-out men were plodding desperately on. This all-night's ride was a fatal error for the Federals, and was a main cause of their final defeat. The short distance they had made was covered by Forrest's men, fresh from their night's sleep, in a few hours, and at half-past nine, while the Federals were at breakfast, the old teasing rattle of small-arms called them into line again. About the same time word came from Russell that he could not take the bridge at Rome, and news was received that a flanking movement of Confederates had cut in between Rome and the Yankee troopers.

The affair now looked utterly desperate, but the brave Streight rallied his men on a ridge in a field and skirmis.h.i.+ng began. So utterly exhausted, however, were the Federals that many of them went to sleep as they lay in line of battle behind the ridge while looking along their gun barrels with finger on trigger.

The game was fairly up. Forrest sent in a flag of truce, with a demand for surrender. Streight asked for an interview, which was readily granted.

"What terms do you offer?" asked Streight.

"Immediate surrender. Your men to be treated as prisoners of war, officers to retain their side-arms and personal property."

During the conversation Streight asked, "How many men have you?"

"Enough here to run over you, and a column of fresh troops between you and Rome."

In reality Forrest had only five hundred men left him, the remainder having been dropped from point to point as their horses gave out and no new mounts were to be had. But the five hundred made noise enough for a brigade, it being Forrest's purpose to conceal the weakness of his force.

As they talked a section of the artillery of the pursuers came in sight within a short range. Colonel Streight objected to this, and Forrest gave orders that the guns must come no nearer. But the artillerymen moved around a neighboring hill as if putting several small batteries into position.

"Have you many guns, general?" asked Streight.

"Enough to blow you all to pieces before an hour," was the grandiloquent reply.

Colonel Streight looked doubtfully at the situation, not knowing how much to believe of what he saw and heard. After some more words he said,--

"I cannot decide without consulting my officers."

"As you please," said Forrest, with a sublime air of indifference. "It will soon be over, one way or the other."

Streight had not all the fight taken out of him yet, but he found all his officers in favor of a surrender and felt obliged to consent. The men accordingly were bidden to stack their arms and were marched back into a field, Forrest managing as soon as he conveniently could to get his men between them and their guns. The officers were started without delay and under a strong escort for Rome, twenty miles away. On their route thither they met Captain Russell returning and told him of what had taken place. With tears in his eyes he surrendered his two hundred men.

Thus ended one of the most striking achievements of the Civil War.

Forrest's relentless and indefatigable pursuit, his prompt overcoming of the difficulties of the way, and his final capture of Streight's men with less than half their force, have been commended by military critics as his most brilliant achievement and one of the most remarkable exploits in the annals of warfare.

The outcome of Colonel Streight's raid to the South was singularly like that of General Morgan's famous raid to the North. Morgan's capture, imprisonment, and escape were paralleled in Streight's career. Sent to Richmond, and immured in Libby Prison, he and four of his officers took part in the memorable escape by a tunnel route in February, 1864. In his report, published after his escape, he blames his defeat largely on the poor mules, and claims that Forrest's force outnumbered him three to one. It is not unlikely that he believed this, judging from the incessant trouble they had given him, but the truth seems established that at the surrender Forrest had less than half the available force of his foe.

_EXPLOITS OF A BLOCKADE-RUNNER._

There were no more daring adventures and hair-breadth escapes during the Civil War than those encountered in running the blockade, carrying sadly-needed supplies into the ports of the Confederacy, and returning with cargoes of cotton and other valuable products of the South. There was money in it for the successful, much money; but, on the other hand, there was danger of loss of vessel and cargo, long imprisonment, perhaps death, and only men of unusual boldness and dare-devil recklessness were ready to engage in it. The stories told by blockade-runners are full of instances of desperate risk and thrilling adventure. As an example of their more ordinary experience, we shall give, from Thomas E. Taylor's "Running the Blockade," the interesting account of his first run to Wilmington harbor.

This town, it must be premised, lies some sixteen miles up Cape Fear River, at whose princ.i.p.al entrance the formidable Fort Fisher obliged the blockading fleet to lie out of the range of its guns, and thus gave some opportunity for alert blockade-runners to slip in. Yet this was far from safe and easy. Each entrance to the river was surrounded by an in-sh.o.r.e squadron of Federal vessels, anch.o.r.ed in close order during the day, and at night weighing anchor and patrolling from sh.o.r.e to sh.o.r.e. Farther out was a second cordon of cruisers, similarly alert, and beyond these again gunboats were stationed at intervals, far enough out to sight by daybreak any vessels that crossed Wilmington bar at high tide in the night. Then, again, there were free cruisers patrolling the Gulf Stream, so that to enter the river unseen was about as difficult as any naval operation could well be. With this preliminary statement of the situation, let us permit Mr. Taylor to tell his story.

"The 'Banshee's' engines proved so unsatisfactory that, under ordinary conditions, nine or ten knots was all we could get out of her; she was therefore not permitted to run any avoidable risks, and to this I attribute her extraordinary success where better boats failed. As long as daylight lasted a man was never out of the cross-trees, and the moment a sail was seen the 'Banshee's' stern was turned to it till it was dropped below the horizon. The look-out man, to quicken his eyes, had a dollar for every sail he sighted, and if it were seen from the deck first he was fined five. This may appear excessive, but the importance in blockade-running of seeing before you are seen is too great for any chance to be neglected; and it must be remembered that the pay of ordinary seamen for each round trip in and out was from 50 to 60.

"Following these tactics, we crept noiselessly along the sh.o.r.es of the Bahamas, invisible in the darkness, and ran on unmolested for the first two days out [from the port of Na.s.sau], though our course was often interfered with by the necessity of avoiding hostile vessels; then came the anxious moment on the third, when, her position having been taken at noon to see if she was near enough to run under the guns of Fort Fisher before the following daybreak, it was found there was just time, but none to spare for accidents or delay. Still, the danger of lying out another day so close to the blockaded port was very great, and rather than risk it we resolved to keep straight on our course and chance being overtaken by daylight before we were under the fort.

"Now the real excitement began, and nothing I have ever experienced can compare with it. Hunting, pig-sticking, steeple-chasing, big-game shooting, polo--I have done a little of each--all have their thrilling moments, but none can approach 'running a blockade;' and perhaps my readers may sympathize with my enthusiasm when they consider the dangers to be encountered, after three days of constant anxiety and little sleep, in threading our way through a swarm of blockaders, and the accuracy required to hit in the nick of time the mouth of a river only half a mile wide, without lights and with a coast-line so low and featureless that, as a rule, the first intimation we had of its nearness was the dim white line of the surf.

"There were, of course, many different plans of getting in, but at this time the favorite dodge was to run up some fifteen or twenty miles to the north of Cape Fear, so as to round the northernmost of the blockaders, instead of das.h.i.+ng right through the inner squadron; then to creep down close to the surf till the river was reached; and this was the course the 'Banshee' intended to adopt.

"We steamed cautiously on until nightfall; the night proved dark, but dangerously clear and calm. No lights were allowed--not even a cigar; the engine-room hatch-ways were covered with tarpaulins, at the risk of suffocating the unfortunate engineers and stokers in the almost insufferable atmosphere below. But it was absolutely imperative that not a glimmer of light should appear. Even the binnacle was covered, and the steersman had to see as much of the compa.s.s as he could through a conical aperture carried almost up to his eyes.

"With everything thus in readiness, we steamed on in silence, except for the stroke of the engines and the beat of the paddle-floats, which in the calm of the night seemed distressingly loud; all hands were on deck, crouching behind the bulwarks, and we on the bridge, namely, the captain, the pilot, and I, were straining our eyes into the darkness.

Presently Burroughs made an uneasy movement.

"'Better get a cast of the lead, captain,' I heard him whisper.

"A muttered order down the engine-room tube was Steele's reply, and the 'Banshee' slowed, and then stopped. It was an anxious moment while a dim figure stole into the fore-chains,--for there is always a danger of steam blowing off when engines are unexpectedly stopped, and that would have been enough to betray our presence for miles around. In a minute or two came back the report, 'Sixteen fathoms--sandy bottom with black specks.'

"'We are not in as far as I thought, captain,' said Burroughs, 'and we are too far to the southward. Port two points and go a little faster.'

"As he explained, we must be well to the north of the speckled bottom before it was safe to head for the sh.o.r.e, and away we went again. In about an hour Burroughs quietly asked for another sounding. Again she was gently stopped, and this time he was satisfied.