A Telegraphic report of Morgan's raid — Mystifying the Northern operators.
G. W. Ellsworth, the telegraph operator who traveled with Morgan a portion of his Ohio, Kentucky and Indiana circuit and escaped into Virginia with that portion of the troops who succeeded in crossing the river, publishes an interesting account of the electromagnetic portion of the performance: Captain Sheldon wishing to capture the train from Louisville, we went up the road three or four miles, to a point some seven miles from Lebanon. Here, after secreting our men in the woods and putting out pickets, we awaited the arrival of the train due at 11 o'clock A. M. It was now about 8 o'clock; so again attaching my instrument, I did not hesitate to call Lebanon Junction, signing myself "Lebanon." Having destroyed the line at the bridge, I was confident that no information could be telegraphed to Louisville to hold the train. Lebanon Junction answered. I then said to him, "Good morning; happy Fourth to you." He replied, "Good morning. How the d — l is this? You have telegraphed via Danville and Lexington that the rebels have burned a bridge within three miles of your place and destroyed the telegraph. Who is at the instrument?" I replied to him: "O, that was only a Fourth of July hoax." I aimed to evade answering that part of his inquiry as to who was at the instrument, but he again put the question, when I replied, "It is me; J." He replied, "O. K.; but that kind of hoaxing is too serious, and ought to be punished." He further informed me that orders had been received to have the train detained for further orders, immediately on its arrival from Louisville. I told him all right, and asked him to take a drink with me. He said he should like to do so, but had nothing in his office. At this point our conversation dropped. When he stated that he had just received a telegraph, via Danville and Lexington, that the rebels had destroyed the bridge and wires near Lebanon, I was taken by surprise. This was a new line to me — put up since we were last in Kentucky. My replies to his inquiries, however, satisfied him. Fearing, however, that he might get to reflecting on the matter, and again bother me with questions, I sent a few business dispatches to well known firms in Cincinnati, purporting to come from parties in Lebanon. This I could do successfully, knowing the tariff of charges on the line. At 9 o'clock I received the following dispatch:Why did you telegraph me to hold the train and report to me the burning of a bridge and destruction of the telegraph by the rebels? Your operator says your dispatch is a hoax. Explain.
"B. M., Sup't."
I gave the operator at Lebanon Junction the usual "O. K.," signing "J." B.--the signal of the Lebanon operator, which I had luckily guessed at, and which I perhaps would not do again in a thousand cases. I waited perhaps ten minutes, during which I manufactured the following and sent it in reply:
Two Irishmen came in on hand-car from the first section and reported it to me. They were intoxicated. I have since then sent out, and the bridge they reported burned is safe. No signs of any rebels in this country.
Hoping this would satisfy him, I waited for him to report the passing of the train South. Soon, however, he called and asked me: "What is the name of that book you promised to send me." I told him to wait a few minutes, as a lady was in the office writing a dispatch. I then manufactured a dispatch, addressing it to an imaginary lady in Louisville, signing a lady's name to it. My object was to kill time, and how anxiously did I crave the moments to fly swiftly by, so the train would leave the Junction before he discovered my real character. He called me several times. I waited as long as I dared, not to arouse suspicion. I sent forward the lady's message I had manufactured, but it did not satisfy him; he again asked me the name of that confounded book. I played drunk on him, and used some harsh words at his suspicions, winding up with an invitation to him to come down on the train that morning and spend the day with me. He asked me what was going on in Lebanon. I told him nothing particular, but that if he would come down I would treat him to many a mint julep. He consented, saying he was the night operator, and could be back in time to go on duty. The promise of the mint juleps settled all his suspicions, and I was asked no more questions about the book. Time passed off. At 10 o'clock I asked Lebanon Junction what time the train left there, and was informed that it passed at 9:30. I immediately informed Capt. Sheldon, who at once had a rail removed, and posted his men on either side of the back. I put away my instrument and went to a house about 200 yards distant to get something to eat. While I was at the table the train arrived, about 11 o'clock, and was thrown off by the missing rail. Such a crashing I seldom ever heard. Five coaches, two baggage cars, and the engine, were considerably smashed up. Several passengers, who were very much frightened, made their escape into the field near by. I was returning front my breakfast just in time to arrest them. A small man, dressed in blue, was in the lead, making 2:40 time through a hay field. I called on him to halt, but when he did not heed I tried the virtue of my repeater, when a few shots convinced him that he had better stop. When I came up with him I asked where he was from, and if he was in the service. He replied that his name was Atwater; that he was a telegraph operator at Lebanon Junction, on his way to Lebanon upon invitation of the operator there to visit him and spend the day. I told him that I was the man who had extended to him the invitation, and that had ordered on the train. He seemed greatly relieved, and even overjoyed, when he found that I was an operator, (for though enemies, operators are always generous to each other.) He acknowledged the sell, and said it was his treat instead of mine, though I had invited him to take mint juleps with me. An operator whom I afterwards captured at Bardstown Junction told me that the operators had the joke all over the lines, Atwater having told it himself. The next telegraph station I arrived at was Osgood, a small village, on the Ohio & Miss. R. R., (running from Cincinnati to St. Louis,) 52 miles west of Cincinnati. As usual, I left the main body of our forces when within about six miles of the place, and went ahead — taking with me 15 men. I found the operator, one Frank Crawford, at his boarding-house. (Provisions in that country are plenty, and operators like to infest and hang around sections and places where there is good eating.) I soon brought him out to the office, and after being at the instrument a few minutes I found that at special train with two companies of soldiers would arrive there soon. I packed up the instruments, and putting the operator on a horse, was ready for a retreat, if necessary. The whistling of the iron horse soon gave me warning, and I took my departure. The very foolish "web-footed" double-quicked after us three or four miles, and if I mistake not were handsomely ambushed and sent back minus 63 men. On arriving at Versailles, Ind., I found the column moving, in the direction of Pierceville, a station on the same road, seven miles nearer Cincinnati. Here I took down the telegraph lines, and with the assistance of Crawford I soon gave Gen. Burnside an idea where Morgan was-- not. He swallowed the bait without hesitation, never suspecting the messages were not genuine. I gave the Cincinnati operator's (Crawford) experience as a prisoner in the hands of the rebels for four hours. This was necessary, as there was an operator on the train that arrived at Osgood, who had telegraphed back to Cincinnati that Crawford had been carried off by the rebels. I played the part of Crawford, representing him as being at his own office. He sat and listened at me, occasionally breaking out in a hearty laugh, when I would tell Cincinnati something directly the reverse of the facts, and make them believe it.
