Southern Heroines.
interesting Adventures and Escapes.
No one trait of the human character has been so fully demonstrated during the history of this war as that of the indomitable courage of our. Southern ladies.
Incidents without number have occurred in illustration of this fact, and the following will only serve to develop the special cases in point;
Miss Ellis M. S. Poole.
We published yesterday a letter to the Philadelphia Press, written from Washington, in which is given an account of the Washington female prisoners. Among the prisoners named is Miss Ellie M. S. Poole, of whom a number of things is said which have no foundation in truth. The Norfolk Day Book, of the aid instant, says: ‘ Miss Pool arrived here last evening in the flag of truce steamer, and we had the pleasure of an interview with her. She is an intelligent and pleasing lady, and, withal, possesses a fervor of patriotism which no tortures of the enemy could dampen. Our conversation with her convinced us that she is a true Virginia lady, and we congratulate her upon her escape from the thraldom of Lincolndom and her restoration to Southern soil and society. Miss P. was arrested in Wheeling on the 28th of September last, by order of the Secretary of State, charged with conducting a correspondence with Southern ‘ "rebels."’On account of indisposition, she was not removed from her home, but was allowed to remain in her room — a guard being placed at the door of the same and also a guard on the outside of the building. The door of her chamber was securely locked and the key taken by the officer of the guard. Previous, however, to the lock being turned, a thorough examination of the furniture, &c., in her room was made. While this search was going on she succeeded by a ruse, in so far diverting the attention of the officer conducting the examination as to give her an opportunity of removing certain manuscripts which she had placed in her guitar case. These she concealed about her person without the movement being observed. During the night she secured a key, or rather found one which had been mislaid, which, on trying, she found to fit the lock of her room. With this she unlocked the door and made her exit through the basement. She then made her way to a house near at hand, but she had not been long there before information was conveyed to her that the guard was on her track. She made her escape through the back entrance just as the guard appeared in front of she house, and proceeded to another place of refuge, from which she was again hunted.--This was repeated four times, but at length she eluded them and went forty miles in a skiff, down the Ohio river to Martinsville.--Here she took passage in a packet to Parkersburg, and again from Parkersburg to Cincinnati. From Cincinnati she proceeded to Louisville, during which journey she had the escort of a Federal officer, who, not being aware of the position she occupied, talked rather freely to her about the affairs of the Government. While at Louisville Miss P. visited several who sympathized with her in her political views, and when upon terminating a visit of this kind at the Galt House she took her departure, she discovered that she was followed by detective Blygh, the best detective in Louisville, and who, she afterwards learned, had been delegated by General Sherman expressly for the purpose of effecting her arrest. She escaped his vigilance, as she thought, on this occasion, left Louisville, and proceeded to Mitchell, in Indiana. To her surprise she found him in the same train with herself — apparently unconcerned, yet closely watching her movements in order to obtain some clue which would justify her arrest. He was not aware that she knew him, but he was mistaken, as she had accidentally learned who he was, and was watching him as closely as he was her. From Mitchell she went to Vincennes, where she was finally arrested by this hound, Blygh. His behavior towards her after her arrest was coarse and rude — just such as might be expected of a Lincoln detective. He took great delight in alluding to her as she passed a crowd on the street, as a ‘"Secesh"’ prisoner, and in various ways endeavored to offend the refined and delicate creature, whom the authority of a base miscreant had made his captive. Her baggage was all searched by this fellow with the hope that he would find something in the shape of manuscript which would serve to convict Miss. P. of the charge against her. Nothing was found, however. She was then in charge of this Blygh, returned to Louisville and presented to Gen. Sherman at his headquarters. Gen. S. confessed that he did not know what disposition to make of her case, but concluded to send her to Washington and have the matter disposed of there. On the way she was again subjected to the insolence of this fellow Blygh, who, at every station took occasion to make some reference to her in terms calculated to give pain. On her arrival in Washington she was imprisoned in the house of Mrs. Greenhow, and in a room adjoining that occupied by this lady, where she remained up to the time of her release. While a prisoner Miss Poole underwent very many privations — being under the strict and constant surveillance of a guard, and was subjected to many inconveniences and annoyances of an unpleasant and distasteful character. She was not, however, altogether without friends, and she refers with lively gratitude to the very many acts of kindness performed for her by Col. E. R. Keys and Lieut. N. E. Shelden, of the Federal army. These officers, to their credit be it spoken, did all in their power to render her comfortable, and by their tender solicitude and sympathy shed a gleam of sunshine through the gloom which surrounded her.--To them she expresses herself as being very greatly indebted, and at her request this public acknowledgment is made. In the latter to the Philadelphia Press, alluded to in the outset of this article, Miss Poole is said to have escaped from the prison at Wheeling, by means of tying her sheet together and letting herself down from the window. The only prison in which she was confined at Wheeling was her own home, and the manner in which she escaped there, from was not by lowering herself from the window, but in the manner related by us above. It is also said in this letter that Miss P., when arrested the second time, had on her person $7,500 of unexpended money, furnished her by the "rebels,"This is also false, as is likewise the statement that on her arrival in Washington she was placed in jail. ’Norah M'Cartey — a Reminiscence of the Missouri campaign.
[From the Nashville Banner,] Jan. 15th.
During the stay of Col. Jones in Nashville we had the pleasure of many fireside talk with him upon affairs in the West, which he discusses with ready frankness, interspersed with many anecdotes and illustrations.
These stories have led us to believe that, thus far, Missouri has the better of other seats of hostility for the real romance of war. Most assuredly the fight there has been waged with fiercer earnest than almost anywhere else.
The remote geography of the country, the rough, unsewn character of the people, the intensity and ferocity of the passions excited, and the general nature of the complicity reduced to a warfare essentially partizan and frontier, gave to its progress a wild aspect, peculiarly susceptible to deeds, and suggestive of thoughts, of romantic interest.
None of these struck us more forcibly than the story of Norah McCartey, the Jeanie Deans of the West.
She lived in the interior of Missouri--a little, pretty, black-eyed girl, with a soul as huge as a mountain, and a form as frail as a fairy's and the courage and pluck of a buccaneer into the bargain.
Her father was an old man — a Secessionist.
She had but a single brother, just growing from boyhood to youth hood, but sickly and lamed.
The family had lived in Kansas during the troubles of '57, when Norah was a mere girl of 14, or thereabouts.
But even then her beauty, wit, and devil-may-care spirit were known far and wide; and many were the stories told along the border of her sayings and doings.
Among other charges laid to her door, it is said she broke all the hearts of the young bloods far and wide, and tradition does even go so far as to assert that, like Bob Acres, she killed a man once a week, keeping a private church yard for the purpose of decently burying her dead.
Be this as it may, she was then, and is now, a dashing, fine looking, lively girl, and a prettier heroins than will be found in a novel, as will be seen if the good natured reader has a mind to follow us down to the bottom of this column.
Not long after the Federals came into her neighborhood, and after they had forced her father to take the oath, which he did partly because he was a very old man, unable to take the field, and hoped thereby to save the security of his house hold, and partly because he could not help himself; not long after these two important events in the history of our heroine, a body of men matched up one evening, whilst she was on a visit to a neighbor's, and arrested her stockily, weak brother, bearing him off to Leaven work City, where he wan lodged in the military guard- house.
It was nearly night before North reached home.
When she did so, and discovered the
outrage which had been perpetrated and the grief of her old father, her rage knew no bounds.
Although the mists were falling, and the night was closing in dark and dreary, she ordered her horse to be re-saddled, put on a thick surtout, belted a sash round her waist, and, sticking a pair of ivory-handled pistols in her bosom, started off after the soldiers.
The post was many miles distant.
But that she did not regard.
Over hill, through marsh, under cover of the darkness, she galloped on to the headquarters of the enemy.
At last the call of a sentry brought her to a stand, with a hoarse--
‘"Who goes there?"’
‘"No matter,"’ she replied, ‘"I wish to see Col. Prince, your commanding officer, and instantly, too."’
Somewhat awed by the presence of a young female on horseback at that late hour, and perhaps struck by her imperious tone of command, the Yankee guard, without hesitation, conducted her into the for tiffations, and thence to the quarters of the Colonel commanding, with whom she was left alone.
‘"Well, madam,"’ quoth the Yankee officer, with bland politeness, ‘"to what have I the honor of this visit?"’
‘"Is this Col. Prince?"’ replied the brave girl quietly.
‘"It is, and yourself?"’
‘"No matter, I have come here to inquire whether you have a lad by the name of McCartey a prisoner?"’
‘"There is such a prisoner."’
‘"May I ask, for why?"’
‘"Certainly; for being suspected of treasonable connection with the enemy."’
‘"Treasonable connection with the enemy Why, the boy is sick and lame.
He is, besides, my brother; and I have come to ask his immediate release."’
The Yankee officer opened his eyes; was sorry he could not comply with the request of so winning a suppliant, and must really beg her to desist and leave the fortress.
‘"I demand his release,"’ cried she, in reply.
‘"That you cannot have,"’ returned he, ‘"the boy is a rebel and a traitor, and unless you retire, Madam, I shall be forced to arrest you on a similar suspicion. "’
‘"Suspicion!
I am a rebel and a traitor, too, if you wish.
Young McCartey is my brother, and I don't leave this tent until he goes with me. Order his instant release, or"’ (here she drew one of the aforesaid ivory-handles out of her bosom and levelled the muzzle of it directly at him,) ‘"I will put an ounce of lead in your brain before you can call a single sentry to your relief."’
A picture that!
There stood the heroic girl, eyes flashing fire, cheek glowing with earnest will, lips firmly set with resolution, and hand outstretched with a loaded pistol ready to send the contents through the now thoroughly frightened, startled, aghast soldier, who cowered, like blank paper before flames, under her burning stare.
‘"Quick!"’ she repeated.
‘"Order his release or you die."’
It was too much.
Prince could not stand it. He bade her lower her infernal weapon, for God's sake, and the boy should be forthwith liberated.
‘"Give the order first,"’ she replied unmoved.
And the order was given; the lad was brought out; and drawing his arm in hers, the gallant sister marched out of the place, with one hand grasping one of his, and the other hold of her trusty ivory-handle.
She mounted her horse, bade him get up behind, and rode off, reaching home without accident before midnight.
Now that is a fact stranger than fiction, which shows what sort of metal is in our women of the much abused and traduced nineteenth century. 