Читать книгу Uncle Daniel's Story Of "Tom" Anderson, and Twenty Great Battles - John McElroy - Страница 13

Table of Contents

“K. G. C.”—ORGANIZATION OF THE ENEMIES OF THE UNION IN THE

NORTH—PLOTTING EVERYWHERE—OBJECTS OF THE TRAITOROUS

LEAGUE.

“The bay trees in our country are all withered,

And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven—

The pale faced moon looks bloody on the earth,

And lean-looked prophets whisper fearful change,

Rich men look sad, and ruffians dance and leap.”

—Shakespeare.

“The loss of little Sarah had spread such a gloom over our household that I felt a desire to be out at David's farm, away from the house, as much as possible. Peter also seemed much depressed and showed a great desire to return to his regiment. On one occasion, when Ham and I returned in the evening, the conversation drifted in the direction of the absent ones in the army, and to Harvey, who fell at the battle of the Gaps. My wife at once alluded to her dream, which seemed to be preying upon her mind almost constantly. Peter was silent, but I noticed that he dropped a tear. After a moment he said:

“'Mother, you should not be constantly thinking of your strange dream. You will become morbid on the subject, unless you drive it from your mind. There is nothing in it that worrying will or can change. There can be nothing sure in dreams, and if there is, you can only discover it in the future. The war will reveal it all to you should there be anything in it.”

“Ham must speak; it was thought by him to be his time.

“'Yes, missus, de wah 'splain it all. Massa Peter and me talk 'bout dat. No danger come out of dreams, you know.'

“'Why, Ham,' said Aunt Sarah, 'I thought you dreamed about Peter, and said he was all right. You assured us of it; and you said that you always knew by your dreams when matters were all right.'

“'Yeas, yeas, missus; but, you see, I be fool on dat. You see, Massa Peter come back wid a so' foot, shot up putty bad. I got fool on dat dream. You see, Marfa allers tells me 'bout de dreams. So you see, I jes' thought I could tell, too. I miss it. Yeas, I miss him dat time. Marfa, she know, she do. She tell you all 'bout dem when she comed.'

“Then he laughed a regular darky laugh, as I found he was sure to do, if he concluded he had drawn you off on a 'false scent,' or heard anything that pleased him.

“Aunt Sarah was relieved. The fact that Ham admitted that he was humbugged by his own dream seemed to quiet her nerves; so she did not allude to her dream again for a great while. But I could see plainly that Peter was very much depressed whenever allusion was made to it. O, it was prophetic, 'twas a revelation of dire calamities to follow, one after another.

“I could see it all when time unfolded the mystery, as it did, in regular order. It was a warning so strangely imparted. But why, why this warning, and why the calamities? That is the question which has been demanding an answer so long; and yet no answer comes that seems to satisfy my mind. Well, well, let that pass for the present.

“The next morning I sent Ham to the farm on horseback to bring some vegetables. Early in the forenoon we heard a noise as if the running of a horse down the street, and looking out saw Ham coming under heavy pressure, with sails spread. I ran out on the porch, and Ham pulled in opposite the little yard gate. I called to him, and asked what was the trouble. The old darky was so scared that he stammered and made motions, but I could get nothing of an intelligent character from him. I made him dismount, tie up his horse, and come in. By this time the family were all out inquiring into the trouble. Ham sat down on the edge of the porch near the entrance and fanned himself with his hat. Great drops of perspiration were rolling down his face. He seemed to be in much distress. Finally Jennie said to him:

“'Ham, where is the lettuce, the asparagus, and the butter we sent you after?'

“Ham, finding by this time that he was not dead, essayed to speak. He raised himself to his full height.

“'W'y! W'y! Yeas! Yeas! De—de—de—dey done gone!'

“'Gone where?' asked Jennie.

“'Dey done gone on de road, missus. I jes' tell you-uns dey's Sesh in heah. 'Spec dey got dem, dey eat dem for dey dinner. Dey got dem, sho.'

“'Well, what about the “Sesh,” as you call them?

“'O, I tole you all 'bout dem. 'Pore de Laud, I mus' rest fust. I is powerful tired, missis—I is.'

“'Well, Ham, put up your horse and get over your fright, and then perhaps you can explain more satisfactorily what has happened to you.'

“'Yeas, missus, I 'spect dat am de bes' way.'

“So, when Ham had cooled off, we had him give us his experience. He said:

“'Well, Massa Daniel, I jes' go to de farm and dar seed Massa Joseph Dent. He fix up de littis, de 'sparagrass, and de eggs; and when dey all fix up I get ready to come home. He says, “Ham, you see dem fellows down de road dar?” I looked and seed 'em, and say “Yes, sah.” Den he say, “Dey bad man's dey is; kase dey's done bin heah all de mornin' lookin' round like dey wants sumfin, and I watch 'em close; if dey boddersme dey ketch it, sho;” dat's what he say! I done told Massa Dent dat I not feared. But dat was a story, kase me was some skea'd. I gits on de hoss and corned right on jes' like I wa'n't skea'd at all. I rides slow doe, kase as how I wa'n't sho' 'bout dem mans. So I gits 'bout half way down the road home, and dem mans—dar war free of dem; dar war free, sho', dey jes' steps right in de road afore me and de hoss. I say “Good mornin,” and takes off my hat like a gemman. Dey say “Whar you goin', nigga?” Den I know'd who dey is. When dey say “nigga,” dat's nuff for dis child. I know'd dey be “Sesh.” Dat's what “Sesh” all call us—“niggas.” I tells you, den I's ska'd. One ob dem say, “What you got dar, nigga?” I say “wegetables for de house.” Ben dey say “Who house?' I told dem Massa Daniel. Den dey say, “Dat ole Lyon? Dat ole Ablishner? Dat ole scoun'el what want to whip de Souf? To free de niggas 'mongst us?” I say, “Don' know 'bout dat. Massa Lyon not say nuffin to me 'bout dat.” Den dey sajr, “Whar you come from, anyhow?” I tole 'em I comed from up in de State whar Massa Daniel comed from. Den dey swar dat I a liar; dat dey know'd Massa Daniel; dat he fetched no niggas hyar from 'Hio. Den when dey say “'Hio,” golly, I be glad; kase I could't smell out de name afore; forgot him clar, sho'. Den I say I comed from 'Hio awhile ago, an' stay wid you, kase I know'd you back dar in 'Hio. Den dey ax me w'at town I comed from. Den dey get me. I skea'd den. One of dem say, “O, he a d——d fool; he not know nuffin.” I say, “Yes, sah, sho'; dat's fac. I doesn't know nuffin'bout dem matters what you say.” Den dey laff. Yes, sah, dey laff. I start on. Den dey say, “Nigga, stop dat hoss.” De hoss stop. Yes, sah, den I be orful skea'd. O, dey was de mos' wostest lookin' disciplinous “Sesh” you eber did see wid yo' eyes. Dey had ole brown jeans coat an' britches. Dey look like de “Sesh” what I seed when dey lef Col. Tom at my cabin.'

“'Well, said Peter, 'they were escaped prisoners, I have no doubt, from some place, and are hunting their way South.'

“'Yes, sah,' said Ham; 'dat's it; dey 'scape and is gwine back to de reb's army, sho': dat's who dey is. I know'd dey was “Sesh.”'

“'Well, go on, Ham; tell us the rest,' said Aunt Sarah. I was so much amused at Ham's story that I kept rather quiet.

“'Well,' said Ham, 'den dey took de hoss by de bridle and made me git off. I s'posed dey was gwine to take de hoss, but dey looked de hoss ober, and say he no good, and gib de hoss back. I got on and dey all pull out pistols and tell me to “git;” dat's wa't dey say, and sho' you bo'n, I git—an' de lettice go one way, de 'sparagrass go anoder way, and eggs go de Lord knows whar—to smash, I reckon. Dey all gone, sho,' an' I's hyar. Dey shoot when I go. I 'spect I be kill; but I'm hyar, sho'; dis is ole Ham; he 'scape.'

--

“We all laughed—in fact, could not help it. I told Ham that I would go out with him the next day and we would see about this matter. Ham withdrew, scratching his head and looking very serious.

“The next day I had the horses hitched to the wagon, and Peter feeling that he had so far recovered that he could stand the ride, we went out together. When we came to the place where Ham had met his three suspicious looking friends we examined the spot, found Ham's lettuce, etc., scattered somewhat over the ground, but could not see much evidence of anything else.

“Ham said but little. Finally, I asked him which direction his friends had gone from here. He at once pointed the way, saying, 'Doesn't you see de track? Dar he go, Turn 'roun' and go back de same way he come.'

“We could see some indications that Ham's story might be true, but not enough to be very satisfactory. However, we went along. When we arrived at the farm and found Joseph Dent we had Ham relate his experience. Joseph Dent said to come in the house. When we had all been seated, Joseph said:

“'Well, I have no doubt as to the truth of what Ham says. The same three men (at least, I suppose them to be, from the description), came here last night and forced me to let them stay in the house. I was not very fearful of their doing me any harm, as I was watchful. My partner and myself could have handled them if they had made any demonstration. We gave them their suppers and a mug of ale and got them going, and found that they were escaped rebels, who had been in prison camp at Indianapolis. They told us that there was a plot to let all the prisoners loose and to raise an army out of their friends North to commence war here, and in that way to have the rebellion succeed.'

“Peter inquired how they came to tell so much about their plans.

“Joseph answered that he and his partner pretended to them that they were in full sympathy with the rebellion, and were staying here only to have the influence of Col. David to keep them out of the Union army, and that if compelled at any time to join either army they would join the rebels.

“'Where have they gone?' inquired Peter.

“'They have gone into the country some twenty miles, to Collins Grove. There is to be a political meeting there to-morrow, and they expect, as they told us, that Thomas A. Strider, of Indianapolis, and Dan Bowen, also of Indiana, were to be there, and through one of them they thought they could obtain aid; that while in prison they had been initiated into a society called the “Knights of the Golden Circle,” which was a secession organization, intended as an auxiliary force to the rebel army; that Dan Bowen was one of their main men, and so called “Agitator”; that Thomas A. Strider was Chief Counselor to the organization in Indiana; was to be in Washington most of the time to “watch things” and to defend them at all times when any of their order should be arrested or in any danger.'

“Peter and I went out to the barn and talked the matter over, and thought that in such a case as this we would be justified in resorting to any means or strategy to discover this secret organization and ascertain the designs of its members. We concluded to get Joseph Dent, who was an old soldier, and very bright, with an excellent memory, to join it and find out all that he could about the organization. Agreeing to this, Peter hobbled back on his crutches. He being a soldier made the proposition to Dent, which he readily acceded to, saying:

“'I had thought of that myself, but feared that you might take me to be too intimate with these people. I call them Secessionists and rebels. I think, that if you agree, I will go down to this meeting to-morrow, and when I come back will come to Allentown, as they might keep a watch on me here.'

“With this understanding we returned, instructing Joseph Dent to stay as long as might become necessary, in order to learn all that he could as to the design of these people. After getting our supplies in the wagon we returned home. On arriving we found all feeling very joyful over the fact that Col. Anderson would be home in the course of a week. He had so written to me. Aunt Sarah had opened and read the letter. Little Mary was so delighted that she ran out and tried to tell us all that her father had written. She would talk and stammer and draw a long breath, and then commence again, and repeat until I had to tell her to rest and begin slowly. When we got in we heard all. The two children were delighted at the prospect of seeing Aunt Martha almost as much as seeing the Colonel and his brave wife. Peter and I had to keep quiet about our program with Joseph Dent, and therefore discussed other matters. During the evening Peter concluded that he would not attempt returning to his regiment until Col. Tom should arrive, so that he could arrange about the command and take some word back to Col. Rice. (I said not one word about Tom's commission as Brigadier, but continued the suggestion that Col. Rice could not think of doing otherwise than turning over the command to Col. Anderson.) Just then the post-boy came again with a letter. I opened it and found it to be from my son Jackson, at St. Paul, Minn., (where he resided and was engaged in railroad building,) stating that he considered it his duty to enter the service of his country. Being young and healthy, he said, no patriot in this crisis, blessed with good health, could afford to remain out of the army; that the day would come when the question would be asked of all such persons, 'Why did you not go to the war and fight for your country?' Poor boy, if he were living now he would ask himself the queston: 'Why did I go; for what did I peril my life?' Yes! yes!

“Well, I kept this from my wife, Aunt Sarah, for the time. She was so worried about our family that I thought best to wait for a day or so, inasmuch as she did not see me get the letter. A couple of days passed and Joseph Dent came to our house. After seeing and speaking to Jennie about the farm and her interest generally, and telling Aunt Sarah about Ham's scare and joking him somewhat, he spoke to Peter and myself, and said that he wanted to see us alone.

“We all went out to the barn, and there he told us all that he had heard and seen—that he had gone to Collins' Grove; that there was a large political meeting there; that Dan Bowen spoke in the most excited manner of the wrongs and outrages, as he termed them, of the vile abolition adminstration; that the Union soldiers were mere hirelings; that he hoped none of his party would join the Abolition army to assist in robbing and murdering our brethren down South. (Dent had noted these sayings in his memorandum; he was a man of fair education and a close observer.) Bowen was vociferously applauded during his remarks. Thos. A. Strider spoke also; but he was not so vehement and abusive as Bowen, but was equally strong against the war for the Union. Strider spoke of it as an unholy war on our part, and all the acts of Congress and the President being 'unauthorized and unconstitutional,' and that the war would be a failure and ought to be; that he would not see money appropriated, if in his power to prevent, to carry it on; that if the Government undertook to draft his friends in Indiana as soldiers, he would defend any of them (free of charge) that resisted such an unconstitutional proceeding. He continued in this vein for an hour. These utterances were loudly applauded by the majority of the audience. But, continuing, he stated that on that day he came across the three escaped prisoners heretofore mentioned, and staid with them during the speeches and agreed to all that was said, so as to satisfy them of his strict adherence to their principles.

“They said to him that if he would remain that night they would initiate him into their mysterious organization. He acceded to their proposition without hesitation, and remained—not leaving them for an instant. In the evening, shortly after dark, they were all conducted to a large empty barn near by, and on entering it Dent found Thos. A. Strider presiding, and Bowen lecturing on the designs and purposes of the Knights of the Golden Circle.

“After he had explained the objects of the organization, an obligation was administered to all who had not before been admitted and obligated. Dent, being one who had not before joined, with others took the obligation, and was then instructed in the signs, grips and passwords. He said that he played it pretty well, so that he was thoroughly instructed, and kept repeating them to himself, so that he might not forget any part. The obligation pledged them to use all possible means in their power to aid the rebels to gain their independence; to aid and assist prisoners to escape; to vote for no one for office who was not opposed to the further prosecution of the war, to encourage desertions from the Union army; to protect the rebels in all things necessary to carry out their designs, even to the burning and destroying of towns and cities, if necessary, in order to produce the desired result. They were also directed to give information at all times of any knowledge they might have of the movements of our armies, and of the coming of soldiers to their homes; to use their influence to prevent their return to the army. They were not even to disclose the murder of any returned soldier or Union man, if done by any one belonging to this organization. They were told in the instructions that men were sent into our prisons to obligate and instruct all prisoners, so that they could make themselves known in traveling, should they escape; also, that the organization extended into Canada, as well as every State in the North; that men in our army belonged to it, who would retreat in battle, or surrender whenever they could do so; they could always make themselves known to the rebel commanders; that the members were in every way possible to foment jealousies and ill-feeling between the Eastern and Western troops, and especially between the commanding Generals of the two sections; they were to encourage the Western volunteers not to allow themselves to be commanded by Eastern officers, and especially were they to tickle the fancy and pride of the Eastern officers and men, by encouraging them not to allow themselves to be subjected to the control of the uneducated men of the West—in short, every kind and character of argument was to be resorted to. In the event of failure, any other means, no matter what, was to be employed to cause failure on our part and success on theirs.

--

“Peter wrote down every word told us by Dent, being very careful about the signs and passwords. This being done, we cautioned-Dent to be extremely careful in his conversations with others, and never to speak of this organization to any one, for fear that he might get into trouble or suffer in some way from its members. Dent bade us good day and left for home. We returned to the house and there read over Peter's memorandum carefully, and studied the signs and passwords so as to fully comprehend them. This, to us, was a serious question. Peter felt as though there was much in this to cause our country great trouble in addition to what was already upon us. I said to Peter that I would at once write to the President and send him all the statements as they were made to us by Dent, as well as suggest to him the necessity of having this conspiracy (as it was nothing less) ferreted out at once, which I did that day, and also suggested the arrest and trial of all that could be found who were engaged in getting up these organizations. I soon received a letter, not from the President, but from another, which satisfied me that my letter had been received by the one for whom it was intended.

“Very soon the whisperings and newspaper gossip showed plainly that there were jealousies in the Army of the East as well as in the Army of the Center. Officers were complaining of each other, and some were charging ill-treatment on the part of the Administration, showing clearly that there were influences silently at work. About this time I received a note from Washington requesting me to come to that city. I prepared for the trip. Bidding good-by to our family, and requesting Peter not to leave until I should return, I was off, no one but Peter and my wife holding the secret of my leaving home at this time. When I arrived at Washington I proceeded to the Executive Mansion, sent in my name, and was at once admitted. The President met me most cordially, and asked me to be seated. He wrote a note and sent it out by a messenger, then turned to me and entered into conversation about the health of our people, the crops of the country, and the sentiments I found generally held among the people of the West in reference to the war. I said to him that among the Union people there was but one sentiment, and that was that the last man and last dollar must be exhausted, if necessary, to put down the rebellion. He grasped me by the hand warmly and said:

“'Lyon, my good friend, I am exceedingly glad to know that. I have been hearing curious stories about your part of Indiana. The Governor of your State seems to fear trouble from some cause.'

“'My dear Mr. President,' I said, 'do not misunderstand me. I do not mean to say our people are united; it is only the Union people I had reference to. There is a strong party in the State who are utterly opposed to the prosecution of the war, and they are led on by very strong and influential men.'

“'Yes,' said the President, 'this man Strider is at the head of that party. He is a smooth-talking fellow—rather an “Oily Gammon,” very shrewd, and hard to catch at any open or overt act. He has a way of setting others on and keeping out himself. At least, I should so conclude from what I have seen and know of him.'

“'Yes, Mr. President, you have estimated the man correctly,' was my reply.

“'Just at this point in the conversation, the Secretary of War came in. The President was going to introduce me.

“'No introduction is necessary, Mr. President,' said the Secretary; 'this is one of my old neighbors and friends.'

“'Our meeting was full of warmth and friendly greetings, having been friends for many years in Ohio prior to my leaving the State. We were all seated, and after some general conversation between the Secretary and myself, the President remarked that he had sent for me, and on my presenting myself he had sent for the Secretary of War for the purpose of having a full conference in reference to the situation in the rear of the army out West, and that from my letter to him he did not know of any one who could give him that information better than myself.

“'By the way,' said he, 'what about your nephew, Anderson? He must be a glorious fellow and a good soldier. Of course, you have received the commission that the Secretary and I sent you for him?'

“'Yes I thanks to you, Mr. President. He is improving very fast. His wound will soon be well, and he will then be ready for the field again.'

“'Tell him,' said the President, 'that I will watch his career with great interest. Coming from where he does, he must have good metal in him to face his friends and relatives in taking the stand he has.'

“'Yes, sir,' said I; 'he is a true man, and his wife, though a Southern woman, is one of the noblest of her sex, and as true a patriot as ever lived.'

“'Your family are nearly all soldiers, I believe, Mr. Lyon,' said the Secretary.

“'Yes, Mr. Secretary; I had seven sons—five are in the army, one was killed at the battle of the Gaps, and the seventh is on his way from St. Paul to join it. God knows I have some interest in our success, and I will go myself at any time should it be necessary.'

“'The President here interrupted:

“'No, Mr. Lyon, you must not. You have done enough. If this Government cannot be saved without the eighth one of your family putting his life in peril at your age, it cannot be saved. We will accept no more recruits from the Lyon family.'

“'The President then asked me to give to the Secretary and himself the situation in the West as nearly as I could, and especially in Indiana.

“I proceeded to state the situation—the bitterness of the opposition to the Administration, as well as to the war, then being manifested by the anti-war party, or, in other words, by the Democratic party as an organization; the organized lodges of the Golden Circle, their objects and designs, the influence they were to bring to bear, how they were to operate and in what directions, the jealousies they were to engender between the officers of the East and the West; the fact that they were to release prisoners and to destroy towns and cities in the North, should it become necessary.

“The President and Secretary both listened with grave attention, and seemed to fully comprehend the situation.

“The President finally said:

“'Mr. Secretary, this is a very serious matter, and is becoming more so every day.'

“'Yes,' replied the Secretary; 'you know, Mr. President, that we have talked this over heretofore, but this revelation seems startling. I can begin to see where the influence partly comes from which gives us so much trouble with some of the officers of the Eastern army. At first I was induced to believe that they were jealous of each other, but I am beginning to think it comes from political influences in opposition to the Administration, having a desire to change the policy of the Government in reference to the war. Several of the senior officers in different commands act as though they thought more of promotion and being assigned to large commands than the success of our cause. They will not serve under any but their own selection of commanders—at least, make opposition to doing so. There seems to be a little coterie who think no one is suitable to command except themselves. They have not been very successful so far, and act as though they were determined that no one else should be. We have relieved their chief and brought a new man to the field, and I do believe that some of these men will not give him a cordial support. We must wait, quietly, however, for developments. One thing is strange to me, and that is that I find these complaining gentlemen all have been and now are in sympathy with the party which is found in a great degree opposing the war. I do not mean by this to impeach their patriotism, but to suggest that the influences which operate upon them and flatter their vanity by suggestions of presidency, cabinets, head of the army, future power, greatness, etc., are not coming from the people or party in full accord with the Administration and in favor of such a prosecution of the war as will insure ultimate success.'

“'Well,' said the President, 'we are in their power at the present, and their demands upon the Administration are of a character to induce the belief that they are preparing the road to an ultimate recognition of the so-called Confederacy; but, gentlemen, they will not succeed.' (This he said with much warmth.) 'I will not let them succeed. The Lord, in his own good time, will raise up and develop some man of great genius as a commander, and I am now patiently waiting for that time. I cannot put these men aside now. The country would sympathize with them and feel that I do not know as much about war as they do; but they will tell the tale on themselves very soon, and then we will be completely justified in getting rid of them. This war must go on for some time yet if the Union is to be restored, and I have faith that it will be; but I am just now bothered more about the condition in the rear than in the front; that will come out all right in time. But if these Golden Circle organizations spread, as they seem to be doing, in the West, where a great portion of our troops must come from, and the people should once get the idea fixed in their minds that the war must be a failure, and a fire in the rear is started of great proportions, then what? Then will come the serious question. And should the people pronounce at the next election against a further prosecution of the war, there will be a secret understanding with those who come into power that the so-called Confederacy is to be recognized, and that will be the end.'

“'But, Mr. President, do you look for such a result?' I asked.

“'No, sir,' responded the President; 'I was only putting the worst side of the case—just as I would look at the worst side of a client's case in court. The people of this country love this republic too well to see it go down marred and destroyed merely for the purpose of upholding the crime and infamy of slavery. No, gentlemen, this Union will be restored. All the rebels of the South, and all the sympathizers and Golden Circles of the North cannot destroy it so long as there is one patriot left qualified to lead an army. They will have to burn every city and assassinate every leading man who is able to be a leader before our flag will go down in gloom and disgrace. This they may try. God only knows what desperate men will do to uphold an unholy cause.'”

“How prophetic this thought was,” said Dr. Adams.

“Yes, it was really so. The very things mentioned were attempted, and an organization completed for the purpose. They accomplished a part of their hellish design, but they did not succeed to the extent contemplated.

“But to return to the conversation with the President and Secretary:

“The President then asked me if I would, in my own way, further ferret out what was being done by this organization in the West and post him by reports in writing as often as I could conveniently do so.

“I responded that I could not go into the lodges myself, but I would, in every way that I could consistently, through others, obtain information and send him.

“'This,' he said, 'was all that he could ask me to do, situated as I was.'

“This being all that was desired, the Secretary of War made out a pass authorizing me to enter any and all of our lines or camps of prisoners, to visit any and all hospitals—in fact, to go to and pass through all places under military control in the United States. With this pass in my pocket I bade good-by to the President and Secretary and left for home.

“When I returned I found that Col. Tom Anderson, his wife, and old Aunt Martha had arrived. The family had a joyful meeting and had become settled down. All were glad to see me. Col. Tom, his wife, and Aunt Martha had many pleasant things to relate—how Tom recovered so rapidly; how kind Col. Harden had been; what a good man Surg. Long was; how a band of rebels came down the river to old George's farm, where Tom had been so long; how they were surprised and captured by one of Col. Harden's reconnoitering parties, and that they said they were sent to take Mr. George's property away and to bring with them old Ham and Aunt Martha.

“Old Ham, being present, broke out in one of his characteristic laughs.

“'Ah! He-ogh. Fo' de good Laud, dat's de time dey miss der cotch. Dis darky was done gone when dey comed. I know'd dey'd be dar sometime for dis cat, and Marfa, too. I tells you, dey want her, dey do. She know how to cook and do things, she do. Be a cole day when dey gits dis cat agin, sho's you born'd.'

“Aunt Martha came in and said to Ham:

“'What you doin' heah, Ham?'

“'I's sympensizen wid dem “Sesh” what comed down to ole Massa George's place back yonder for to fotch me and you back to de Missip. De cat done gone. He-ah! he-ah!'

“'Yes; but you ole fool, dey'd got you if it had not bin for me. I beg you afore you goes to go wid Massa Daniel, you knows I did.'

“'Yes, Marfa, dat's so. I tole dem all de time dat you knows de bes'. Don't I, Massa Daniel?'

“'Oh, yes, Ham,' I said. 'You always speak well of Martha, and what she knows.'

“'Deed I do, Marfa; dat's so; I does, all de time.'

“'Dat's all right den, Ham. I forgib you all what you do, so you jes' git out in de kitchen; dar's whar you blong. Dese folks spile you ef dey don't mind deyselves.

“The family, or a considerable portion of them, again being together, we naturally drifted in our conversation as to the war, it being uppermost in everybody's mind at that time; so I found an opportunity to tell Col. Anderson and Peter all about my trip, what had occurred, and what I had promised to do. Peter said that I would have to be very cautious, and that the first thing was to understand whether or not the Postmaster here could be trusted. Should he allow it to be known that I was frequently communicating with the President, the enemies at Allentown would manage in some way to discover my communications, and thereby my life would be in danger.

“I knew the Postmaster, however, and that he could be trusted; so that part of the matter was settled.

“Colonel Anderson suggested that there should be no haste in settling the arrangements; that it was of such importance that a little reflection would do no harm; so we laid the matter over for the present.”

“Uncle Daniel,” said Col. Bush, “we who were in the army felt the influence of the Knights of the Golden Circle. There was one time during the war when we would have hundreds of desertions in a night; nor could we stop it for a considerable length of time. We finally discovered that the people opposed to the war were engaged in every possible way in influencing the relatives of the soldiers. They would sometimes get their wives to write about their sufferings, sickness in their families, and in every way that it could be done they were rendered dissatisfied.”

“Yes,” said Maj. Clymer, “that is true in every respect. Part of my command deserted, and I have found since the war that they were induced to do so by these very influences.”

“The situation at that time was very critical,” said Dr. Adams. “I remember well when mobs were organized and when soldiers were shot down on the road in this vicinity while returning to their commands after being home on a leave of absence.

“O, yes, those were perilous times for all who were in favor of their country's success. Returning, however, to family matters:

“On the morning of the next day, after Peter, Col. Anderson and myself had talked over the matter of my Washington trip, and sat down to breakfast, Col. Anderson found a paper under his plate. All eyes were upon him, and he turned his upon the paper. He read it, and looked at me as though he understood it all, yet it was evidently a very happy surprise; he said not one word, but handed it to his wife, supposing that the rest knew of it. She jumped up from the table and threw her arms around my neck and wept for joy. This procedure seemed to puzzle the rest of the family, as they were totally ignorant of the contents of the paper.

“'Mother,' exclaimed Peter, 'what is all this?'

“Col. Anderson said: 'Aunt, do you not know what it is?'

“'No, indeed,' she replied.

“I then revealed the secret of my keeping the fact quiet about Tom having been commissioned as a Brigadier-General

“Peter at once said: 'Well, that settles the question in our regiment; and I am truly glad, for two reasons: first, that Col. Anderson has been promoted, and, second, that it leaves our regiment intact.'

“All congratulated the Colonel and were happy over it. Old Aunt Martha who was waiting on the table that morning shouted out 'Glory! Dat's jes' what I sed; dat de good Laud was gwine to keep Massa Tom for some big thing, so he do good. I know'd it.'

“We all felt that it was due him and all were glad. Upon looking up I discerned tears in Jennie's eyes, I knew in a moment her thoughts, but said not a word. Her darling child, Sarah, had died, and of course she was sensitive and easily touched. After breakfast I took the first opportunity to say to her: 'My dear child, don't feel badly; your husband's promotion will come very soon.'

“This seemed to cheer her up, and all went on well and pleasantly. No one seemed to understand Jennie's tears but myself, and I was very quiet on the subject. Sure enough, the very next day she got a letter from David, telling her that he had been promoted and assigned to the command of a brigade. This made us all doubly happy, and caused us to forget our grief for a time. The two children did not quite understand all this. But Aunt Martha, to whom the children had become quite devoted, was in her very peculiar way explaining it all to the children, and yet she knew but little more about it than they did, and between her explanations and their understanding of it, made it very amusing indeed.

“Two days afterwards Peter left for his command, which was still encamped on the battle-field of Pittskill Landing. He felt as though he could do camp duty if no more. He wore the same sad countenance that had become fastened upon him since he had been pondering over his mother's dream.

“Col. Anderson was still very weak, but was nervous about the future and extremely anxious to recover sufficiently to take the field. His bloodless face and trembling motion showed that he couldn't perform field duty for some time to come. He made a request, however, for the detail of Capt. Day, of Col. Harden's regiment, as one of his aides-de-camp. The order for the detail, in accordance with his wishes, he soon received, but delayed sending it forward, leaving Capt. Day with Col. Harden until such time as he should be able to be assigned to duty. In talking over with Gen. Anderson the situation and the mission I had to perform, we concluded, inasmuch as he was only slightly known through the West, that he could travel through Ohio, Indiana and Illinois on a prospecting tour and be less liable to suspicion than myself, known as I was in many parts of the country, and that the journey was just what he needed to give him strength.

“Preparatory to his undertaking the expedition we thought proper to visit Joseph Dent on the farm, and have the General more fully posted in the mysteries of the Golden Circle. We at once repaired to the farm. While there Dent instructed him thoroughly, he having it at his tongue's end, as he had been meeting with the Circle frequently in the neighborhood, under the advice of Peter and myself. Gen. Anderson carefully wrote down everything in his pocket memorandum book, and after frequently going over the signs, manipulations, passwords, etc., with Dent, we left for home. All the preliminaries were then arranged, so that the General was to start as soon as he considered himself sufficiently strong to undergo the fatigues of the journey.

“Late in the evening the form of a tall, well-proportioned man appeared at the door and rapped. I said 'Come.' He entered, saying, 'Father, how are you?' I saw it was my son Jackson, from St. Paul, Minn. After hearty greetings, I introduced him to Gen. Anderson and wife. Aunt Sarah soon entered the room, and the meeting between mother and son was most touching. In the conversation that ensued Jackson soon disclosed the fact that he was on his way to join the army somewhere, not entirely defined in his own mind; but came by to pay a visit to us first.

“Gen. Anderson seemed at once to take a fancy to Jack son, and proposed that he make application for a Captaincy in the Regular Army and be assigned to him as one of his staff officers. This was readily acceded to by my son. The papers were made out, and Jackson started for Washington the next morning to make the request of the President, the understanding being that he was to return to my house and await the future movements of Gen. Anderson. His mother, hearing of this arrangement, was better satisfied with it than she would have been if he had started out in some regiment; but she wept bitter tears at the thought of all her sons endangering their lives.

“She said to me:

“'Daniel, if our whole family, or a greater part of them should be lost, who will remember it to our honor, and where will sympathy for us come from? You know the youth who fired the Ephesian Dome is remembered, while the builder is forgotten.'

“These words of my good wife are constantly ringing in my ears. How true! how true!”

--