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L. P. Brockett, The camp, the battlefield, and the hospital: or, lights and shadows of the great rebellion, Pauline Cushman, the celebrated Union spy and scout of the Army of the Cumberland. (search)
was gradually recovering from his faintness, the brave fellow, true to instructions, designated the farmer's boy, as the one who had shot him, because he was a Yankee. It now became evident to the rebs that each party had mistaken the other for Yanks ; but for further precaution, Pauline was ordered to accompany them, and the wounded soldier was placed on a horse, and the party took up their march to Wartrace. This was a programme not at all agreeable to her, and as they rode along through tce of four of the rebel scouts from whom she had escaped the night before, and who had tracked her all the way from Hillsboro. Although she pretended to be glad to see them and explained her separation from them as the result of her fears of the Yanks, they were neither gulled nor mollified, but gruffly ordered her to accompany them back, without even taking the breakfast which her kind hostess pressed upon them. And soon she was in the saddle, and proceeding on her journey, under the care of
L. P. Brockett, The camp, the battlefield, and the hospital: or, lights and shadows of the great rebellion, Part 2: daring enterprises of officers and men. (search)
ber of well armed volunteers, a company of track hands to repair the track as they went along, and a telegraph operator, and continued the chase. A short distance above Calhoun they saw, for the first time, the runaway train ahead of them. The Yanks, supposing themselves now well out of danger, were quietly oiling the engine, taking up track, etc., but finding themselves discovered, they mounted and sped away, throwing out upon the track, as they fled, the heavy cross-ties with which they hae Island Artillery, galloped up to a retreating battery and ordered it to face about. I was told to go the rear as rapidly as possible, remonstrated the sergeant in command. You don't seem to know who I am, answered Gray. I am one of those d-d Yanks. Countermarch immediately! The battery was countermarched, and Gray was leading it off alone, when a squadron of our cavalry came up and made the capture a certainty. The victory was pushed, as Sheridan has pushed all his victories, to the u
from Adamsville-reversed and ran it backward to that place, switched off the cars on a side track, and with the engine made fine time to. Calhoun, where they met the regular down passenger train. Here they made a momentary halt, took on board a number of well armed volunteers, a company of track hands to repair the track as they went along, and a telegraph operator, and continued the chase. A short distance above Calhoun they saw, for the first time, the runaway train ahead of them. The Yanks, supposing themselves now well out of danger, were quietly oiling the engine, taking up track, etc., but finding themselves discovered, they mounted and sped away, throwing out upon the track, as they fled, the heavy cross-ties with which they had provided themselves; which was done by breaking out the end of the hindmost box car, and pitching them out. The rails which they had last taken up they now carried off with them, but their rebel pursuers, on coming to where the rails were torn up,
were so stupefied by fatigue and cowed by defeat that it seemed like a flock of animals, actually taking no notice of mounted men and officers from our army, who wandered into the wide confusion of its retreat. Lieutenant Gray, Company D, First Rhode Island Artillery, galloped up to a retreating battery and ordered it to face about. I was told to go the rear as rapidly as possible, remonstrated the sergeant in command. You don't seem to know who I am, answered Gray. I am one of those d-d Yanks. Countermarch immediately! The battery was countermarched, and Gray was leading it off alone, when a squadron of our cavalry came up and made the capture a certainty. The victory was pushed, as Sheridan has pushed all his victories, to the utmost possible limit of success, the cavalry halting that night at Fisher's Hill, but starting again at dawn, and continuing the chase to Woodstock, sixteen miles from Middletown. It was a gay evening at our headquarters, although we were worn out
h rebel scouts sent out for our capture, and at night blazing with their picket fires; and how we even ate a poor little dog which had followed our fortunes to his untimely end, and were thinking seriously of eating the negro Wash, when he, to save himself from so unsavory a fate, ventured down in the darkness to a cornfield, and brought us up three ears of corn apiece, which we ate voraciously; and how we had to go still farther south and abandon the mountain altogether, to avoid the scouts and pickets; and how we finally struck tile Shenandoah, twenty miles to the rear of Early's army, and there built a raft and floated by night forty miles down that memorable stream, through his crafty pickets, and thereafter passed for rebel scouts, earnestly looking for Yanks until we found them, and the glorious old flag once more welcomed us to Union and liberty. These things the writer expects to tell, by the blessing of God, to the next generation, with his great-grandchildren on his knee.