Secrets of the Late Rebellion. Freese Jacob R.

Secrets of the Late Rebellion - Freese Jacob R.


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if not an impossible, task.

      While he recognized the fact that both these gentlemen might sit in their Wall Street banking-offices with all the dignity of a Sir Josiah Child, or grace a lady's parlor with all the urbanity of a Lord Chesterfield, yet he feared that when disguised as farmers or day-laborers, when required to tug along on foot for several miles at a time, and then ride, pell-mell, on horseback for a score of miles at a time; when compelled to sleep in garrets or in the loft of a negro-hut; when required to prevaricate, or even to lie, in order to get by a Union sentinel, they might not be quite equal to the occasion. The Colonel tried to persuade them to go by the way of Nassau, and from there run the blockade into Charleston, as he himself had done when he first entered the Confederate States; but the more he tried to persuade them to this course, the more determined they were to go with him. Over the difficulties and hardships mentioned by the Colonel, they only laughed, said they could stand it all, that it would be as holiday-sport to them, and that, in a day or two, both would meet the Colonel at Ben Beveridge's, in Washington, and from thence make their way with him to Richmond.

      The third day after, Messrs. Lamb and Waddell were in Washington, and that night, between eleven and twelve o'clock, left Beveridge's, en route for Richmond. Ben and Weightman accompanied them to a Mr. Thecker's house, in Georgetown, where the disguises were to be put on. Lamb first placed himself in the hands of the manipulators. He had been wearing long chin whiskers; these Ben cut off at one fell swoop, leaving his face as bare as a child's. Next, his hair was nicked and chopped over, as if done with a pair of sheep-shears, in the hands of a country bumpkin, instead of by a Broadway barber. Then he was stripped of his latest-fashioned coat, vest, and pants, and in their place was supplied with a suit which would have done credit to an ox-team driver. Waddell came next. His magnificent beard, covering his entire face, was cut clean off, and, in place thereof, two false "mutton-chop" side whiskers and a false moustache, both butternut-color, were put on his face. Next, Ben applied the shears to Waddell's head, and pretty soon his hair presented the appearance of a country ox driver's. Then he, too, was stripped of his Broadway suit, and in a few minutes transmogrified into a fat, jolly farmer, or a Conestoga team-driver. The Colonel was already in disguise, and had been ever since he left his uniform at Mr. Joseph Mix's, about eleven miles within the Confederate lines, and now it only required a little touching up, which the Colonel did for himself while the others were laughing over their own outlandish appearance.

      About one o'clock in the morning all were ready for a start. Ben consented to go along until the first guard was passed – Major Weightman to wait at Thecker's until Ben returned. It was the latter part of August, 1863, and the nights, just then, were not only very warm, but very dark. Ben led the way, Lamb and Waddell followed, and the Colonel served as rear-guard. When Ben, who was several hundred yards in advance, reached the canal-lock, near which a guard was stationed, he played the drunkard, and cursed the lock-tender loud enough for the guard to hear. The lock-tender was one of the Colonel's men, and in the pay of the Confederacy. He knew Ben's voice, and knew, too, that the Colonel was not far off Ben told the lock-tender, in a voice loud enough for the guard to hear, that he had plenty of whiskey and plenty of cigars in his pockets, and wondered if the guard would n't like some. The lock-tender thought it probable, whereupon Ben staggered off towards the guard, flourishing a bottle of whiskey as he went, and crying out to the guard, "Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" The bait took. The guard gave no challenge – allowed Ben to approach him – took a good swig of whiskey from Ben's bottle – lit a cigar which Ben had handed him – entered into a rip-raving-swearing conversation with Ben; and, while all this was going on, the Colonel and his guests slipped quietly by, and were a good half-mile beyond the guard before Ben bade him good-night.

      A further walk on the tow-path of the Chesapeake and Ohio canal, for over two miles, brought the three travellers to Widow Ennis's farm- and lock-house. She was in the pay of the Confederacy; and within a half-hour from the time of reaching there, the three travellers were in the saddle, and, accompanied by her son, to bring the horses back, on their way to the Great Falls. They rode along at a brisk trot, and part of the time the New York gentlemen were nearer the ears than the tails of their horses, nevertheless they managed to hold on, and, after a ride of nine miles, reached Hendrickson's, about a half-mile from the Falls. Here they dismounted. Joseph took the horses back to his mother's stable, while our three travellers walked on, about one mile, until they reached the garden-fence in the rear of the hotel, which they clambered over, or through, and finally got into the back-building of the hotel, through a private door. The Colonel knew all the points, and Lamb and Waddell had only to follow him to secure themselves and him from observance by the Union sentinel, whose station was but a little way from the front of the hotel. At Hendrickson's they left the main road, and followed a by-path until they reached the garden in the rear of the hotel. In creeping through the garden-fence, Waddell tore his coat badly about the shoulder, which distressed him not a little, and for which he was heartily laughed at by his companions. Mr. Morse, who kept the hotel, was soon with his back-door customers, and certainly no guests ever received a more hearty welcome.

      Great Falls, it may here be said, once for all, is neither a town nor a village; but consists of a large three-story stone building, used as a hotel for summer visitors, and as a private residence in the winter, and a large store-building, with numerous out-houses, used for transportation purposes – all of which belong to the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal Company; but were at this time rented, and the business carried on by Messrs. Garrett & Morse, the former of whom gave more especial attention to the store, and the latter to the hotel. Both were Marylanders; both sympathized heartily with the Southern cause, though nominally "strong Union men;" both were under the pay of the Confederacy; and both, or as a firm, received from the Southern Confederacy, at different times, through the hands of Colonels Abercrombie and Killgore, sums in gold amounting to between six and eight thousand dollars. Both were first-class business men, of high character, and, from their love of the Southern cause, would, doubtless, have rendered it all the aid they could had they not received one cent of pay; but such was not the policy of President Davis or his agents. They insisted that all who aided should be paid, and so long as cotton could be converted into gold, this was possible, and certainly the true policy.

      It was now about three o'clock in the morning, but the Colonel would not retire until he had sent for, and consulted with, Garrett, as to future movements. From him the Colonel learned that the line was open, and in good working order, that guide No. 1 would be on hand the next night to row them across the Potomac, and conduct them to guide No. 2, and that, meanwhile, all three should retire, and keep themselves entirely out of sight until the following night. The retiring and resting part suited Lamb and Waddell exactly. Both were thoroughly tired from their long walk and horseback ride, neither being at all used to that kind of exercise. Lamb was then about fifty, Waddell about forty years of age; the first was lean, the latter fat; both knew how to handle gold and greenbacks, but neither knew how to handle reins or sit a saddle, especially when on the back of a rough trotting country farm-horse. Their feet would slip through the stirrups; in descending hill, they would, somehow or other, slip from their saddles towards the ears of their horses; and in going up hill it was with difficulty they kept from slipping off their saddles towards their horses' tails. They knew how to walk Broadway and Wall Street with as much grace as a French dancing-master; but when it came to walking on the tow-path of a canal, to creeping through garden-fences, and such like performances, neither of them could do it half as well as a country clod-hopper. Bed! rest! of course they were ready for bed and rest, and the sooner the better; and, suiting the action to the word, both were soon in bed, and snoring away for dear life.

      For some cause or other, guide No. I did not put in an appearance next night, and our travellers were obliged to keep themselves concealed for another day. The following night, however, he came, and between nine and ten o'clock the three slipped out of the back-door of the hotel, made their way to the boat, which was in waiting about a mile up the Potomac, were rowed across by the guide, then walked about a mile to a negro-hut, and then about three miles more to a-farm-house. Here horses were procured, and then for about thirty miles, mostly through private lanes and pig-paths, through woods and over fields, over torn-down fences and through open gates, they trudged along until they reached the farm-house of Dr. Carrico. It was now nearly daybreak, and our travellers were thoroughly tired out. The Doctor, who was in the pay of the Confederacy, though within the Union lines, and nominally a "Union


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