The Spy of the Rebellion (Based on True Events). Allan Pinkerton

The Spy of the Rebellion (Based on True Events) - Allan  Pinkerton


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acquaintance with George B. McClellan had, from its earliest incipiency, been of the most agreeable and amicable nature, and when I called at his house in Ludlow street, as I did immediately upon my arrival in Cincinnati, I was received with genuine cordiality. After we were closeted together I explained fully to him the character of the business that had called me to Washington, and how the complication of affairs at the seat of government necessitated so much delay that I had found it imperative upon me to leave without arriving at any definite understanding with the President.

      The General had already been advised of his elevation in rank, and among other things desired to consult with me in relation to his affairs at the War Department.

      I need not stop to give the details of that interview. His object in sending for me was to secure my aid and co-operation in the organization of a secret service for his department, and finding me more than willing to do all in my power to help along the cause of the Union, he immediately laid before me all his plans.

      Our business was settled. It arranged that I should assume full management and control of this new branch of the service, and that I should at once enter upon the discharge of the multifarious duties attending so responsible a position. The General then informed me that he would write to General Scott for permission to organize this department under his own personal supervision; and he also agreed to submit the project to Governor Dennison, of Ohio, with a request to that gentleman to solicit the co-operation of the Governors of Illinois, Indiana, Michigan and Wisconsin, in sustaining the organization.

      To this arrangement I gave a ready assent, and we then entered upon the discussion of affairs requiring immediate attention. Several measures, more or less important, had suggested themselves to my mind while the General was talking, and in the course of the conversation which followed, I presented them for his consideration. It was a relief to me to find that at the outset there was no clash of opinion between us, and I felt confident that there was not likely to be any in the future.

      For several days my time was principally taken up in private consultations with General McClellan, in laying out a line of operations, by which I was to assist in making arrangements for bringing my own force into active duty at the earliest possible hour. I rented a suite of rooms and fitted up an office in Cincinnati, where I called about me some of the most capable and trustworthy detectives in my employ, and impressed upon them the great importance of the tasks that were about to be imposed upon them.

      The general informed me that he would like observations made within the rebel lines, and I resolved to at once send some scouts into the disaffected region lying south of us, for the purpose of obtaining information concerning the numbers, equipments, movements and intentions of the enemy, as well as to ascertain the general feeling of the Southern people in regard to the war. I fully realized the delicacy of this business, and the necessity of conducting it with the greatest care, caution and secrecy. None but good, true, reliable men could be detailed for such service, and knowing this, I made my selections accordingly; my thoughts reverting first of all to Timothy Webster.

      Within six hours after the commander had expressed his wishes to me, Timothy Webster was on his way to Louisville, with instructions to proceed southward from that city to Memphis, stopping at Bowling Green and Clarkesville on the way.

      In Webster's case it was not necessary to devote much time to instructions, except as to his line of travel, for he was a man who understood the whole meaning of a mission like this, and one who would perform his duty with that faithfulness and ability by which he had fairly earned the confidence I now reposed in him.

      Within a few days I also sent out other scouts, singly and in pairs, on the different routes that had been carefully prepared for them, and in a short time quite a number of my best operatives were engaged upon more or less difficult and dangerous tasks, all tending to the same end.

      In organizing and controlling this secret service, I endeavored to conceal my own individual identity so far as my friends and the public were concerned. The new field of usefulness into which I had ventured was designed to be a secret one in every respect, and for obvious reasons I was induced to lay aside the name of Allan Pinkerton—a name so well known that it had grown to be a sort of synonym for detective. I accordingly adopted the less suggestive one of E. J. Allen; a nom de guerre which I retained during the entire period of my connection with the war. This precautionary measure was first proposed by the General himself, and in assenting to it I carried out his views as well as my own. This ruse to conceal my identity was a successful one. My true name was known only to General McClellan, and those of my force who were in my employ before the breaking out of the rebellion, and by them it was sacredly kept. Indeed, I doubt if McClellan has ever divulged it to this day, if I may judge by the frequent occurrence of such incidents as the following:

      A short time since, while on a visit to my New York agency, I chanced to meet one of my old army friends, General Fitz-John Porter. He recognized me, gave me a hearty greeting, and proceeded to address me as Major Allen, after the custom of by-gone days. I permitted the conversation to go on for some time, and then said:

      "Are you not aware, General, that the name of E. J. Allen, which I used during the war, was a fictitious one?"

      He looked at me, as if to satisfy himself that I was not jesting, and then exclaimed:

      "Fictitious! You are not in earnest, Major?"

      I assured him that I was never more so.

      "Why, I never suspected such a thing. What, then, is your true name?"

      "Allan Pinkerton," I replied.

      "Allan Pinkerton!" he ejaculated.

      His astonishment knew no bounds, and he declared it was the first intimation he had ever had that Allan Pinkerton and Major Allen were one and the same person.

      It was on the thirteenth of May that Timothy Webster left Cincinnati on his trip southward. He arrived at Louisville, Ky., late in the night, and remained there until the following day, when he pursued his course into the heart of that self-satisfied State which only desired to be "let alone."

      It is not my purpose to give in detail all the events of Webster's journey, as there was much that would only prove tedious at this late day, though at that time regarded as of the utmost importance to the country. Shrewd, wide-awake, and keen as a blood-hound on the scent, he allowed nothing to escape him, but quietly jotted down every item of intelligence that could possibly be of advantage to the Union army, and picked up many important points, which would have escaped the notice of a man of less detective experience and ability.

      He stopped a day or two at Bowling Green, Ky., and then proceeded on to Clarkesville, Tenn. He made friends of all he met, and cleverly ingratiated himself into the good graces of those whom he believed might be of service to him. He was a "Hail, fellow! well met," "A prince of good fellows," a genial, jovial, convivial spirit, with an inexhaustible fund of anecdote and amusing reminiscences, and a wonderful faculty for making everybody like him. He partook of soldiers' fare in the rebel camp, shook hands warmly with raw recruits, joked and laughed with petty officers, became familiar with colonels and captains, and talked profoundly with brigadier-generals. He was apparently an enthusiastic and determined rebel, and in a few cunningly-worded sentences he would rouse the stagnant blood of his hearers till it fairly boiled with virtuous indignation against Yankees in general, and "Abe Linkin" in particular.

      Webster's talent in sustaining a role of this kind amounted to positive genius, and it was this that forced me to admire the man as sincerely as I prized his services. Naturally, he was of a quiet, reserved disposition, seldom speaking unless spoken to, and never betraying emotion or excitement under any pressure of circumstances. His face always wore that calm, imperturbable expression denoting a well-balanced mind and a thorough self-control, while the immobile countenance and close-set lips showed that he was naturally as inscrutable as the Sphinx. Many of his associates were of the opinion that he was cold and unfeeling, but I knew there could be no greater mistake than this; I knew that a manlier, nobler heart never existed than that which beat within the broad breast of Timothy Webster; and I knew that, reserved and modest as he was, he was never wanting in courtesy, never derelict in his duty, never behind his fellows in acts of kindness


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