May 11, 1865. |
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| Davis's Prison, Fortress Monroe |
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miles.
When he reached them, they were approaching Irwinsville, the capital of Irwin County, Georgia, nearly due south from Macon.
They had pitched tents for the night, and in one of these the wearied husband and father lay down to rest, intending to retrace his steps before the dawn.
Vigilant eyes were now looking for the notable fugitive.
General Wilson, at Macon, had been informed of Davis's flight toward the Gulf, and sent out two bodies of horsemen to attempt his capture.
One was led by Lieutenant-Colonel Pritchard, of the Fourth Michigan Cavalry, and the other by Lieutenant-Colonel Hardin, of the First Wisconsin Cavalry.
A reward of one hundred thousand dollars for the proclaimed criminal, made vision keener and muscle more untiring.
The seekers pushed on, by different roads, down the western side of the Ocmulgee River, and soon came upon the desired trail, The two parties approached the camp of the sleeping fugitives, simultaneously, from opposite directions, just at dawn.
Mistaking each other for enemies, they exchanged shots with such precision, that two men were killed and several wounded before the mistake was discovered.
The sleepers were aroused.
The camp was surrounded, and Davis, while attempting to escape, disguised in woman's clothing, was captured by Pritchard and his men, and with the rest of the fugitive party, was conveyed to General Wilson's Headquarters, at Macon.1 Thence they were sent to Savannah, and forwarded by sea to Fortress Monroe. Judge Reagan, who was captured with Davis, and Alexander H. Stephens, the “Vice-President” of the Confederacy,who was arrested at about the same time, were sent to Fort Warren, in Boston Harbor, from which they were released on parole, a few months afterward.
Davis was confined at Fortress Monroe, in a casemate — a comfortable prison — on
a charge of being concerned in the murder
1 The method of Davis's capture, and the account of his disguise, are related by two persons as follows:--
“When the musketry firing was heard in the morning at ‘ dim, gray dawn,’ it was supposed to be between the apprehended Confederate marauders and Mrs. Davis's few camp defenders. Under this impression, Mr. Davis hurriedly put on his boots, and prepared to go out for the purpose of interposing, saying, ‘They will at least, as yet, respect me.’ As he not to the tent door, thus hastily equipped, he saw a few cavalry ride up the road and deploy in front. ‘ Ha! Federals!’ was his exclamation. ‘Then you are captured!’ cried Mrs. Davis, with emotion. In a moment she caught an idea — a woman's idea — and, as quickly as women, in an emergency, executee their adesis, it was done. e slept in a wrapper — a loose one. It was yet around him. This she fastened, ere he was aware of it, and then, bidding him adieu, urged him to go to the spring, a short distance off, where his horses and arms were. Strange as it may seem, there was not even a pistol in the tent. Davis felt that his only course was to reach his horses and arms, and complied. As he was leaving the door, followed by a servant with a water-bucket, Miss Howell flung a shawl over in his head. There was no time to remove it without exposure and embarrassment, and, as he had not far to go, he ran the chance exactly as it was devised for him. In these two articles consisted the woman's attire of which so much nonsense has been spoken and written, and under these circumstances and in this way, was Jefferson Davis going forth to perfect his escape. No bonnet, no gown, no petticoats, no crinoline, no nothing of all these. And what there was happened to be excusable under ordinary circumstances, and perfectly natural as things were. But it was too late for any effort to reach his horses, and the Confederate President was at last a prisoner in the hands of the United States.” --Narrative of Lieutenant C. E. L. Stuart, of Davis's staff. After receiving the report of the capture, from Lieuteniant-Colonel Pritchard, General Wilson said in his dispatch: “The story of Davis's ignoble attempt at light, is even more ignoble than I told it. Mrs. Davis, and her sister, Miss Howell, after having clothed him in the dress of the former, and put on his head a woman's head-dress, started out, one holding each arm, and besought Colonel Pritchard's men, in most piteous terms, to let them take their poor old mother out of the way of the firing. Mrs. Davis said, ‘ Oh, do let us pass with out poor old mother, who's so frightened, and fears to be killed.’ One of Pritchard's men, catching sight of the ‘ President's ’ boots below the skirts of the dress, suspected at once who the poor old mother was, and replied, ‘Oh, no, you don't play that game on us; those boots don't look much like they belong to a woman. Come down, old fellow!’ ” --General J. H. Wilson's Report.
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