Judson Knight: A Chase along the Pamunkey 1864 - II

The adventures of Judson Knight, Chief of Scouts of the Army of the Potomac, along the Pamunkey River in the summer of 1864 continued . . .

WITH THE SCOUTS

Serg't Knight's Adventures In the Swamps of the Pamunkey.

(Continued from last week)

BEING in fear of some kind of an ambush, it struck me forcibly that the best thing to do was to keep quiet until dark. I had lain still all day, so as not to move the tops of the bushes, and came to the conclusion to still continue the same tactics, although it would have been a great relief to me to change My position, for it seemed to me as though every bone and muscle in my person was aching, so that it appeared as if I never would ct over it. Added to this was hunger and thirst, I tried to dip up some water with my hand?, but could not quite resell it, and would not move for fear they were watching and would see the tops of the bushes shake and give me a volley.

It was a terribly long afternoon, but at last the sun went down, and very soon afterward I emerged from my hiding place and very carefully made my way out to the solid land, coming to it with my head held as low as possible, and sweeping the circumference of half-circle, to see if I could discover anything that looked like my Confederate friends or hordes between myself and the sky. After looking and listening for sometime, I could neither see nor hear anything suspicious, and so emerged from the swamp. As soon as I reached the solid ground I took off my boots and emptied them of the water that had been in them all day. Thinking what I should do myself if the position was reversed, and I the hunter instead of the hunted, I concluded not go to Pamunkeytown by the road, hut make my way to the river, and, in case no boat could be confiscated, swim to the other side and make my way down to the White House as best I could.

I soon found the river, and it was much nearer the road than where I had crossed the night before, owing to a bend in the stream at the place where I came to it. On reaching the river I discovered three men doing something on the shore, and leaving my dispatches hidden in a safe place I "fetched a traverse and snaked my way" up to where I could hear what they were saving and see what they were doing. A short observation showed me they were negroes, tangling up a seine on stakes along the shore. I soon satisfied myself there were no white men among them, and walked right up to them, saying: "Good evening, boys; what luck?"

They showed me two sturgeon they had caught, one of which was the largest I ever saw. After speaking of the size as being something uncommon, I said: "Boys, have you seen any of our soldiers around to-day?"

A tall mulatto, who appeared to have charge of things, said: "Yes; Lieut. Rodgers¹ and three men swam their horses across here three times this evening; they went over first, then came back again, and just before dark went over again."

"Can you tell me where they are now?"

"Just at dark they were over there," pointing with his hand, "by the old mill."

"I wish I had been here before they crossed the last time; I should have been glad to have met them. Do you know of any more of our men on this side of the river?"

"Look yere, maussa; you aint one of our men, you aint."

"I aint? Well, tell me what I am, if I aint."

"You's a Yankee, you is."

"What makes yon think so?"

"Oh, you don't talk like our folks does."

Up to this time had imagined I was playing the part of a Confederate rather successfully, and to be detected by this fellow so easily made me ashamed. I had played the part of a Confederate Surgeon only the previous Winter, and knew that there was no suspicion on the part of several families of white people of my being any thine than what I represented my self to he. It lowered me several pegs in my own estimation. The thought instantly came to me. You had better own up; these people will tell you more if they see you trust them.
So I said:

"Suppose I were a Yankee, would you betray me?" 

"No, sah."

"Well. boys, you are right; I am a Yankee, and a very hungry one, too. Can you get me something to eat? I have got plenty of money and will pay you well for anything you do for me."

"Don't want no pay, maussa. I will go right away and get you something," said the mulatto. When he left I walked into the bushes, from which I had listened to their conversation, and the two who were left began asking all kinds of questions, one of which I remember well. They wanted to know if, when we got hold of any negroes, we cut off one of their arms. I told them no, of course, and asked why they asked such a question as that. They said the white folks told them so.

Much sooner than I expected, the mulatto came back, bringing with him two pones of hot corn bread, a large pitcher of buttermilk, and some of the fattest, rankest bacon I ever saw. Buttermilk I always detested; bacon, even the best of it, never was a favorite; but I got away with everything buttermilk and all. After eating, I began inquiring in my turn, and found that I was about eight miles above the White House; that no launches had come there that day. they felt certain, as they would have heard the steamers' whistles; for they had been on the river all day. In looking at their boats, I found one about 10 feet long, made of five pieces of boards. The bow was about four inches wide; stem, 14 inches; sides and bottom made of half-inch stuff; bow and stern pieces of inch boards. In the center, the boat was about 20 inches wide. When I found the mulatto knew the channel of the river, I offered him $10 to take me down and land me at Pamunkeytown. Before getting through I offered $50, but soon discovered that money was no inducement to him. While friendly to me personally, and Yankees in general, and he hoped they would be successful, he thought more of himself than anything else. He also knew that Lieut. Rodgers and his three men were on the south side of the river; how many more might be there he could not tell. lie also knew that in rowing he would make considerable unavoidable noise, and that a pistol-shot, even, fired from the shore, would kill, provided it hit, and his belief was that be would be killed if he went. He would sell the small boat and throw in a paddle for $3. He also had something that he had found on the south side of the river in 1862, after McClellan had gone from there. "There was glass in both ends, and there was two of them fastened together, side by side," he said, and that if I would wait he would "go to the house and get it." He went, and brought back a field glass, that, as near as I could judge after dark, was a tolerably good one, and I gave him $5 for that. I then made him the offer of $50 again to go down the river with me, and told him that I had lost all of that day, and that was the reason why I would give him that amount.

Said he: "You is the man that Lieut. Rodgers run in the swamp this morning soon after gun up. Well, sir. Lieut. Rodgers cussed like the dobil for bcin' a d__d fool for to holler at you. Shore you carry dispatches, and he bay be have you shore befoh you git two miles from dis place."

When I saw there was no further use in endeavoring to overcome the timidity of the mulatto, I stepped into the boat, and seating myself in the stern, I began using the paddle, and soon discovered the tide was against me, and that my progress was altogether too slow to reach Pamunkeytown or the White House in any reasonable time. The idea came to my mind to run in close to shore and use the paddle as a "setting pole." When I put it in practice it -worked to a charm. By using the blade so that I could draw it edgewise through the water, I soon found that I was going faster than I could walk, and making no noise that could be heard even at a short distance. Keeping along the north shore for a mile or more I found a bayou, and concluded, as I knew nothing of the channel, to follow the shore even if it did increase the distance considerably, believing that in this case "the longest way around is the shortest way home."

I had just got into the channel again, and was close in-shore, under an almost perpendicular bluff, when I heard voices on shore that sounded above me. Looking upward I discovered, silhouetted against the sky, a man and woman on the top of the bluff. Scarcely had I discovered them when a stone thrown, no doubt, by the man, as large as he could conveniently hold, struck the water not a foot from the boat, barely missing it. Had it struck in the boat it would have gone through the bottom like a shot, and stopped my trip by water. An instant's thought satisfied me that I had not been seen, which was confirmed immediately by the voice of the woman saying: "What a splash!" Giving several vigorous shoves with the paddle, I was soon out of reach of any more "dornicks,² " should the notion take the stranger to make another splash.

There were plenty of bayous, which I followed the configuration of until I felt certain that the distance to the White House could not be over four miles, when the sweetest music that ever struck mortal ears was plainly borne to mine. It was the shrill, and, at the same time, hoarse whistle of a steamer. I was making good progress when the sound first came to my ears, but when I heard it and knew, as I did, that Baldy Smith must have arrived at the White House, new vigor was imparted to my muscles, and the cockle-shell I was in fairly flew.

Before going over a mile from where I was when the first whistle sounded five or six more were heard, which did not cause me to lesson my exertions. At last the whistling became almost continuous. I knew that there was a large house on the south side of the river, one mile above the White House, called Eltham³. When I got there I concluded to land and sneak around to the negro quarters and wake one of them, and get him to guide me through the fields to the landing. Crossing the river and running my boat ashore, I stepped out and listened a moment, and could hear no noise of any kind, except the cries of insects. Following a path that was plainly to be seen by the white sand where the grass had been trodden out by constant use, I passed around to the rear of the mansion and knocked on the door of one of the quarters. Immediately came a coarse, low growl from a dog that was some where outside, whether fastened or loose I could not tell. I got no response to my first rap, and tried it again. This time a louder growl, and one that very plainly showed me the dog was a large one, came from the same direction as the first. After thinking the matter over a moment, it struck me that the most sensible thing to do would be to go back to the river and resume the boat, cross over to the north bank, and escape being fired at by our own pickets, which I imagined would be close to the shore immediately below Eltham. I had nearly reached the shore when a startled voice rang out, "Halt! Who goes there!"

"Who are you?" said I.

"Who are you?" said the challenger.

"Do you belong to the Union army?" said I.

What the answer was I don't remember, but I do know that it was such as convinced me I was parleying with a Northern man, and I said, "It is all right ; I can tell you are a Union soldier."

Without saying whether this was true or not, he insisted on knowing who I was, and I told my mission. While the sentry and myself had been trying to ascertain each other's status, men had been rising from the ground all around me; three or four rose within a yard of me, and when I declared that I was carrying dispatches from Gen. Grant, one man, who had risen from the ground within two feet of me, said, "I will take this," and put his hand on the paddle which I was holding, with the blade resting on the ground. It looked to him in the darkness like a gun. They huddled around me, and wanted to know how I got there. I answered that I had come down the river; which did not satisfy them at all.

"How did you come here, right where you are standing now?"

"As I told you before, I came down the river in a boat, and landed at the foot of this path; came up this path, and went to the rear of the house yonder to see if could find a negro to guide me through the fields to the landing. When I knocked on the door, I heard a dog in the yard growl; the more I knocked the worse he growled. I did not know how many Johnnies might be around, for they are always prowling around just on the outskirts of any of our forces. In 1862, when we landed here under McClellan, two or three pickets were found the next morning with their throats cut, within a mile of this place. Knowing their nocturnal habits, and having a lively desire to keep my hide whole, I concluded to go back to my boat and resume by journey by water.

It took some time to make them believe that I had passed through them and they had not heard me, hut it was more astonishing to think I had not heard anything of them. I took them down to the boat and got the dispatches, which were rolled up in my coat in the bow. When they saw the boat they began to believe me. The Lieutenant in charge said he would have to keep me until morning. There was not a match in the party, and there was no way of verifying my story until daylight.

Judson Knight, Washington, D. C.
(to be continued.)

-The National Tribune., January 19, 1893



¹ Most probably Andrew J. Rodgers of the 42d Virginia Cavalry Battalion.

²  a rather obscure name for a rock, perhaps implying the couple were dull and unobservant.

³ He is quite off here; Eltham and the White House are 10 miles from each other in direct line and twice that by river.

Judson Knight: A Chase along the Pamunkey 1864 - I

What Our Veterans Have to Say About Their Old Campaigns.

WITH THE SCOUTS

Sergn't Knight's Adventures In the Swamps of the Pamunkey.

AFTER the fighting at Spotsylvania Courthouse was over, I cannot remember how the country looked, or what roads we took until we approached the Pamunkey River. In my mind's eye I am see the road for about a mile leading across a river bottom, filled with doughboys, as the infantry were called, who had been halted to let Army Headquarters pass. They had been marching in column of fours, and had separated, so that two were on the right and two on the left of the road. After Headquarters came a motley group of servants, all mounted, which appeared to excite the ire of the infantry. The day was hot, and they had had a long march that morning. As a general thing the scouts were not with headquarters when on the march; only a lot of so called guides, most of them negroes, although there were quite-a number of white men and boys, Virginians by birth. The negroes were guides, in some cases.

After crossing the Pamunkey Headquarters were established on a farm called Gold Hill. Soon after we had settled down, I mounted my horse and took a ride westwardly to see what the topography of the country was like. Just as I came to the first place west of Gold Hill, Gen. Grant and a number of his staff came out of a house; as I passed them Grant was saying: "I told her that I considered our losses about equal. As we had all the time been the attacking party, we had lost more in killed and wounded" but we had taken many more prisoners than Lee had." Afterward I learned Mrs. Newton was the name of the lady he was speaking of.

About 10 a. m. on the nest day, an Orderly from Gen. M. R. Patrick, the Provost Marshal General of the Army of the Potomac, came over to our camp, and said to me: "Gen. Patrick wants to see you." On reporting to him, he said: "Mr. Dana wants to see you." Mr. Dana was Assistant Secretary of War. and had been at Headquarters of the Army from the opening of the Wilderness campaign. When I reached Headquarters, I asked for Mr. Dana. Gen. Rawlings pointed to him, and he (Dana) said: "I am Mr. Dana." Gen. Grant and Col. Rufus Ingalls, Chief Quartermaster of the Army, were also in the tent. I said to him: "Gen. Patrick ordered me to report to you."

"You are a scout. "We want to send dispatches to Yorktown. That is the nearest point that we can reach a telegraph." 

Yorktown was about 70 miles away, and the country between in full possession of the enemy. I am free to confess that there was no craving on my part for the job. All that I knew of the country was what an infantry man, serving with his regiment, that lauded at West Point, at the junction of the Pamunkey and York Rivers, would naturally learn in going from there to New Kent Courthouse; from thence to Cumberland Landing; from there to Gaines's farm; from Gaines's farm to Mechanicsville: from thence to Fair Oaks and Harrison's Landing, by way of Savage Station, White Oak Swamp, and Malvern Hill. Two years had elapsed since. I thought over our guides, and the different scouts not a man of them knew a thing of the country, and told Mr. Dana that there was not a horse in our party in fit condition to make such a trip, and said my own horse had a sore back in fact, they all had. Gen. Grant, I could see, was listening to our conversation. When I mentioned the condition of the horses in our party, he said: "Ingalls, haven't yon got fresh horses in the corral?" "Yes," said he. Then to me: "When you get through here, I will go with you to the corral, and show you what I have."

That settled it, and I could see there was no way to get out of it, and might as well put on a cheerful air as any other. Mr, Dana then showed me a lot of dispatches, and marked them, saying, "This is to be telegraphed, and this !s to be mailed," until ho had all but three marked. Then he showed me those, saying as he did so: "If you are caught with these, you "will be hung." I did not believe anything of the kind, and came near telling him that his telling me that would not make we one particle more diligent in endeavoring to get through without being captured. My impression was then, as it is now, that he thought I was a detailed soldier, and that if he could scare me into thinking I was in danger of losing my life by being captured with those documents, I would try harder to get through with them than otherwise. He was careful to not tell me that a Lieutenant with 16 men had been sent with the same dispatches the night before, and had returned with only half his men the same morning. 

He wanted to know how many men I would take with me, and I said one. When Col. In galls saw that he had got through with me, he jumped from his seat, saying: 'Come with me, now, and I will show you what horses I have."

On our arrival at the corral I picked out the largest and strongest looking horse there. The Colonel said: "That is a rough rider you have got there." I told him I know it, but he had no bottom, I thought, and also remarked that I was not a lightweight 'No," said he, " that is so. He will serve you if you can can stand the jolting. What kind of a man is the one going with you?" 

"No better living. He will never leave one in the lurch. He is good as gold."

"That, is not what I mean," said the Colonel, smilingly. "How large is he? What will he weigh?"

Why, he is a little fellow; won't weigh over 115 pounds."

"Let me pick him a horse," said the Colonel. 

In a few minutes he selected one that one could see with half an eye, if he knew any thing about a horse, would be an easy one to ride; then telling negro to deliver the horses to any place I directed, he said to me: "Let me see the pass Rawlings gave you." After looking at it for a moment, he said, "Strange that some people never appear to think. Now, I am going to tell you something that may be of bet vice to you, and I hope it will. We expect Baldy Smith with the Eighteenth Corps to land at the "White House soon. My advice to you is to go by the way of the White House. You may find him there. You have three dispatches for him in your bundle. If you should find him show him this." 

He was busy writing on the back of the pass, and when he handed it to me he had written an order on any Quartermaster in the "United States service to furnish us with a steamboat, horses, or any transportation in their power, and to facilitate these men in the discharge of their duty" by any means in their power, and a request to all Captains of gunboats to do the same. When I had read it I thanked him for his thoughtfulness and ready appreciation of the difficulties in the way of the accomplishment of our mission, which might be very much easier for Hatton and myself by his forethought. Then, his way of doing it was so friendly. 

How it became so well known Hatton and I were going to try and reach Yorktown we never found out; but in some way it became noised around that we were going, and several people came to us asking that we should carry letters for them; among others, Col. Collis, at that time commanding a regiment of zouaves attached to Headquarters as a guard, soon afterward prompted Brigadier-General, asked me to carry a letter for him directed to his wife, who had not heard from him in some weeks. He never forgot it, and more than a quarter of a century afterward did not forgot what he at that time considered a great favor.

After getting the horses we hastily swallowed not a "plate of soup," but our dinner, and started. About two or three miles from Headquarters we had to halt to let the Fifth Corps pass. Many of them had gone by when we came to the road they were marching out. The very last man in the corps was Joe Beggs, an old friend of mine. Capt. McDonagh, who was killed at Mine Run in the fall of 1863, had told me before his death that Joe was in the army. He (Capt. McDouagh) and myself had boarded in he same house before the war, and I had been on the lookout for Joe for months. It was a very "hot day, and in addition to his regular load of blankets, cartridge-boxes, haversack, musket, I etc, Joe had a camp kettle clung on his musket. He was hot, covered with dust, and tired.

After the natural greetings of old chums who had not seen each other since the war began, I said: "Joe, will you have a drink of whisky?" 

"Will a duck swim? Have you got any?" 

"Yes; but it is hot." 

"That don't matter, so it is not boiling." 

Unslinging a canteen from the saddle, I passed it over to him, apologizing at the same time for its being so hot. When he handed it back he said, "You have saved my life. I will have to hurry now to catch up; good-by," and he was off.

Hatton and I crossed the road, and after going about two miles farther we came to a cavalry videt in the road. After showing our pass Hatton asked him what his regiment was, and the answer showed he was one of the Michigan Cavalry Brigade. I said: "Where is Gen. Custer?" He pointed into the woods on the left of the road, and answered: "In there, where you see that group of horsemen." As I had known Custer very well in 1861, while I was at Gen. Kearny's Headquarters, where he for a lime was Acting Assistant Adjutant-General, and at the same time commanding a company of the 2d Cav, of which he was Second Lieutenant, this was the first time I had had a chance to see him since September, 1861, and I availed myself of it. He did not know me until I asked if he remembered Serg't Knight, at Kearny's Headquarters. There was no nonsense about Custer. I could sec he was pleased to see me. After asking a number of questions, he said: " Where are you going?" I told him to Yorktown, and he replied, "I should not care to take such a trip," and said ho hoped we would got through all right, wished us "bon voyage," and we parted. I never saw him afterward to speak with, and only once at all, after the fall of Richmond, when his command had started for Washington. 

After leaving Gen. Custer we made good time and saw no one to interfere with us until we came to a place called, _____ which was the name of an estate. The house stood on a high hill commanding a view of the road for some distance, both above and below it. Here we met a Pamunkey Indian. We stopped him to see what we could learn about the situation of affairs. He told us that someone was always on the watch from the house on the hill; also, that there was a line of couriers from the White House to Richmond. In answer to a question ho said the couriers belonged to Col. Shingler's command, and he believed Col. Shingler was from South Carolina. He also told us that he had just come up the road from where it crossed the railroad leading from the White House to Richmond, and that there was stationed therefrom 35 to 20 men; ho had not counted them, but was sure that there was at least 15 of them. We bade him good day and went on. We could not turn back from hearsay. 

As we went along, we found that we both had the same impression in regard to the Indian's truthfulness. Neither of us had a doubt but what he had told the truth as far as he knew it. About two miles from where we met the Indian we came upon the cavalry he had told us of. There was but one man who was mounted, but I counted 16 horses, including his. The remainder of the men were lying around under trees, endeavoring to keep cool. As soon as they saw us halt, they commenced getting up and running to their horses. We saw that it would be but a short time before they would be after us, so we turned and started back on a gallop, which we kept up until we passed the place where we had met the Indian. As we were ascending a small hill I noticed the ground was of such a nature that the tracks of our horses could not be seen without very close observation. Small pines were on both sides of the road, which was narrow at that point. We turned out of the road and led our horses into the pines about 100 yards and waited. In a few minutes about eight or 10 of oar Confederate friends came dashing up the road and went right on past. It was very nearly dark when they passed, and we knew that they would come back soon as wise as they went. We came back within a few feet of the road and waited. It was nearly 9 o'clock when we heard them returning. We caught our horses by the nose to keep them from whinneying, or, as our Confederate friends called it, nickering. They were not in as great a hurry going back as they had been in coming, and were very much chagrined that they had not succeeded in overtaking us, and were wondering who and what we were.It was finally decided that we were couriers, for one fellow said he had noticed the "big man" had a bundle in front of him that he felt certain was dispatches. He settled the matter by saying: "You need not say they were deserters, either from the Yankees or our army. They are couriers, and they have not gone far. They will be trying to get past us to-night, and if we keep a good lookout we will stood a chance to see them again." They little imagined we were then so close that we could hear every word they were saying. 

After they had passed out of hearing we came out into the road and held a consultation. Jim said to me: "What shall we do now?" After thinking the situation over for a time I said: "Jim, you had better take the horses and go back. You will be able to reach our lines early in the morning."

"Well, what will you do!"

"The best thing to do will be for yon to do as I say; take the horses and return. I will go down to the Pamunkey River and swim over, then work my Way down to Pamunkeytown and get one of the Indians to land me on the south side of the York River, and depend on finding a horse in some stable and confiscating him, and then go on, provided I see nothing of Smith in the. mean time. You know, there is a chance of meeting him at the White House. I am sure that I don't know this country well enough to attempt to flank those fellows down there at 'Tunstalls' in the dark." 

Said Jim: "What will they think of me at Headquarters, to come back and leave you alone, when we have not gone more -in fact-,less than one-third of the way? I hate to do it, old boy." 

I argued with him some time, and finally he agreed to go back. I said to him, "The Pamunkey can't be more than two or three miles over there," pointing in a northeast direction. "I can perhaps reach the Indian village by daylight, and get to the south side of the York early in the morning, always provided Baldy Smith don't arrive in time to save going there. You can tell them at Headquarters that I said to you that they could rest easy about the dispatches being delivered, and you can tell them where and when you left me."

By this time it was about 10 o'clock at night. He wanted me to take the canteen, which I refused on account of its weight, although we had reduced that by some ounces, and parted. I plunged into the pines upon the other side of the road, and Jim started off on a gallop in the direction from which we had come. 

When I started for the river I felt certain I would find it about two miles off. It was very slow time I made through the pines, which at that point must have been quite a mile through. When at last I came to a clearing I was not far from a house, so near that the dogs heard me, and I was escorted to the boundary of that plantation by curs of every degree, and they kept up a continual yelping as long as I was on the place. They stopped at a point I supposed to be the boundary of what they considered their bailiwick, and the choros(sic) was immediately taken up by another set, who welcomed me to the hospitalities of their place. In this way I was escorted from one place to another, and several times was in danger of being bitten. It was only by the exhibition of  "eternal vigilance" that I escaped it. The river was much farther off than I had anticipated, a bend in it that I know nothing of causing me a much longer walk than I had expected. At last the river was before me and I hunted for a fence; one was soon found, from which I selected about a dozen suitable rails, which I placed in the water, keeping one end on the bank, then undressing, placed my dispatches and loiters on them, my pistol on clothes on the cud of the rails on shore, my top of the whole outfit, and taking the heft went down in the water and strapped the rails together lightly; then going to the end of the rails in the water bore down my weight on them until I had the raft afloat. 

In a short time I had crossed the river, and nothing wet, with the exception of the belt. Resuming my clothes, and taking the dispatches under one arm, I started inland to find a road leading down stream. It was much farther than I anticipated; should think it nearly two miles before coming lo one. When I at last found it I started down stream and walked fast. I had no idea that I was over three miles above Pamunkey town. After going about a mile daylight overtook me, but I kept on for a short distance, when I heard a hello in my rear, looking hack I saw four horsemen coming along the road, and as they were evidently Johnnies, there was not the slightest desire on my part for an interview. 

As good luck would have it, I discovered there was a swamp only a short distance ahead, that extended for some distance toward the river. Immediately I sprang for the fence, which was a high one, "staked and ridered." As soon as they saw me climbing the fence, they started into a gallop and came for me. They were walking their horses when they first yelled at me. If they had said nothing they might have come close enough to me before I discovered them to have capt u roil me before it would have been possible for me to get away-from thorn. Evidently they had expected me to stop and wait for them to come up with me. When the long-drawn-out "O-h-h-h-h, thar!" first struck on my ears, I felt under many obligations to them for their warning, which I would not have gotten, most likely, had it not been from the disinclination that all Confederate cavalrymen showed to exerting their horses except when obliged to. The reason probably was, that the horse he rode was private property.

Before they got the fence torn down I was in the swamp. The first jump took me into water and mud above my knees. The surface water was clear, and the whole surface of the swamp was dotted over with small hummocks of bushes, with long grass growing in the soil among the roofs. I passed several of the hummocks, as being not only too small for my purposes, but not far enough from the shore. About 50 yards in I came to one which appeared to me to be the most suitable of any in sight. Passing along to the farther end, I crawled in among the bushes, so as to lie with my head toward the shore. As I crawled in three largo water moccasins crawled out and wiggled their way through the water to an other hummock, and disappeared among the bushes and grass. I had got myself very comfortably settled, and knew that there was no motion among the tops of the bushes that could betray my hiding-place, when I heard the sound of the horses' hoofs on the ground as they rode up to the spot where I had entered the swamp. From my covert I could not see them, and consequently know they could not see me, so that I nearly laughed aloud, when I heard a voice saying, "Come out hyar. I see you. If you don' come I will fire."

At intervals of a few seconds the same voice would repeat the command to "Come out hyar," and breathe dire threats of vengeance if I did not. I was near enough to hear every thing they said while they spoke in their ordinary tone of voice, but it was always the same voice that invited me to "Come out hyar,' from which I came to the conclusion that my very persistent friend, who after each invitation would lie like Ananias by saying, "I see you."

He finally became very profane, and cursed "like a trooper." Had it not been for the dispatches there were times when I would have returned his "curses in kind, like the Confederate tax," and dared them to come in and take me out; and should they attempt it, had no fears as to the result, for I knew they could only come, at the most, two abreast, and I was good with a pistol at 60 yards for the size of a man's palm of the hand every shot.

I know they were up to 9 a.m. right on the shore of the swamp; then all noises ceased for nearly an hour. All of a sudden those mo voice sang out: "Do you see anything of him?" "No," came back the answer from some place east of me at a considerable distance. I could judge that they had sent three of their number around on the borders of the swamp east of me to see if I had come out, which I felt certain they could tell easily, for a look at the water in the vicinity of the hummock I was on looked roily yet. I heard them shouting to each other occasionally, until about 3 p.m., after which hour everything was silent. 

-Judson Knight, Washington, D. C.
(to be continued.)

-The National Tribune. (Washington, D.C.), January 12, 1893

Watch Out for . . .

NEW YEAR SNAKES.

Pumpkin Story Easily Believed After Christmas Cheer. 

(Special to The Times-Dispatch.) 

ROXBURY, VA., Jan. 6- A peculiar accident happened near this place a few days ago. Joe Macon is worthy colored man, and a prosperous farmer, who makes a specialty of raising pumpkins of enormous size, which he has given the name of "Fitz Lee." Joe Macon was raised on the old White House farm and belonged to the Lee family, a fact about which he feels very proud.  

Old Joe is fond, of pumpkin pie. Every Christmas he brings the choicest one to the house and pies are made of it.  

They are sent broadcast over the neighborhood to his white friends, who pronounce them fine. Tuesday evening Joe called his boys to help bring up the pumpkin. It was of enormous size, weighing about one hundred and eighty-five pounds. The pumpkin had to be rolled up a hill. One of the boys let the huge vegetable get a way. It went down the hill at a rapid rate. A beautiful Holstein heifer, a great pet of the old negro's, was leisurely chewing its cud, unmindful of the impending danger, when it was struck fully amidship and knocked over. it was soon found that its back was broken and two ribs, so it had to be killed to end its suffering.  

The pumpkin struck a tree and was burst open. Then was made a discovery that caused surprise to all and no little excitement. In the neck of the pumpkin was found nine, large black snakes, which had gone into winter quarters and were in a comatose state. They were easily dispatched.  

Now old Joe will not use the pumpkin, as he fears that those who eat the pies will have snakes after them.

- Times Dispatch, 7 January 1904

New Kent's Woman Yeoman

Personal and Brief Items Gathered Prom Mountains to Seashore.

Mrs. J.R. Taylor and her daughter, Miss Lucy Taylor, passed through town on last Saturday afternoon for their home at "Eltham." New Kent. It will be remembered that Miss Taylor, after a spell of influenza in Norfolk, where she was enrolled as a yeoman*, in making an effort to reach her home on the Norfolk and Western train about two weeks ago fainted. When she reached Petersburg she was placed in the care of the Red Cross, and was taken to a hospital, where she was attended by physicians, who sought in vain to find out something about the curious malady that robbed this young lady of her memory for two weeks. There was nothing about her belongs  that could enlighten her attendants. In the meantime her parents, having heard that she had left Norfolk for home, started out to search for her. Suddenly her memory returned, and her parents were notified, and she was restored to them. The papers said she was from West Point. West Point is her post-office station, but her home is at historic "Eltham," New Kent, Va.

- Richmond Times-Dispatch, 10 November 1918


*Find here the link to an interesting piece about the women yeomen of the First World War.

Gallow's Ball XII - Dining on the Scaffold

The Shepherdstown Register adds some extra details to the strange scene.
Of course whether they are true or nineteenth century journalistic license is debatable.

DOUBLE EXECUTION

The two negroes, Pat Smith, aged twenty-four, and Julius Christian, aged twenty-two, who murdered Colonel Jno. Calvin Lacy in New Kent county, Virginia, were hung March 25th, at New Kent Courthouse, Va., in the presence of an immense crowd of white and colored people. The condemned men left the Henrico jail, in Richmond, where they had been lodged for safe-keeping, at five o'clock in the morning, in charge of Sheriff Royster and and ample guard. They slept well at night, and set out for the scene of the execution, which is twenty-five miles distance from Richmond with the utmost good humor. They dressed themselves in new store clothes, and as they walked along the street on their way to the New York River depot they laughed and talked, and seemed

AS HAPPY AS A BIG SUN FLOWER.

They had been provided with money by their relatives, and this they spent for sandwiches and cigars at the lunch counter in the depot. As the train puffed away the murderers poked their heads out of car windows and gave three cheers for Richmond. There were a few negroes, a half dozen white sporting men, ten or twelve fancy girls and twelve reporters on the cars, who went to see the work well done. At eleven o'clock the party arrived at the Court House, it being several miles from the railroad station to that place. The prisoners were taken into the Court House building, where they shrouded themselves, and were prayed for by a colored Deacon. About 11:30 they were led to the gallows. They said they had a request to make, which they begged would be complied with. They wanted to

TAKE THEIR LAST MEAL ON THE SCAFFOLD.

The sheriff consented to this whim, and the execution was delayed some what on this account. The prisoners said they only wanted coffee, cornbread and molasses, but they wanted a good deal of it, such as it was. Accordingly a colored woman in the neighborhood went to work and prepared the grub. In the meantime the murderers sat composedly, the observed of all observers. About twelve o'clock the repast was ready. A rickety old table and two chairs were loaned for the occasion. These were placed on the scaffold, and on the table were a pot of steaming coffee, two pones of corn bread, a rung of sorghum, plates, spoons, &c. Smith took his coffee without cream, but Christian called for some of the lacteal fluid. The cook had forgotten to send any, and after a little delay it was brought. Then the negroes began their meal. It took them nearly one hour to eat it.

THEY LAUGHED A GREAT DEAL,

And when they had cleared the dishes they remarked; "The old woman gets up a first rate dinner." Then they each smoked a cigar, and at one o'clock they arose on the scaffold, and with grinning faces confessed t he crime for which they were condemned, and said they would go straight to glory. At the close, and just before the ropes were lied, they requested the crowd to sing the negro hymn, "Peace, peace, on the golden shore." Christian had a fine tenor voice, and Smith sung a pretty fair bass, and after the tune had been raised they both joined in with a good will. All of the colored spectators sang, and altogether it was a musical feature of the show that might have been enjoyed by disinterested spectators had not the occasion been such a serious one. At 1:15 o'clock all was ready. Smith and Christian said "Farewell," in a loud voice, and the prop was knocked from under them. They swung off well, and only uttered slight groans. Smith weighed 190 pounds, and his neck was broken; Christian weighed 150 and was strangled. The remains were cut down in a half hour after the pulse ceased to beat, and were turned over to their friends.

THE GALLOWS BALL.

"The negroes came in immense numbers. It was a gala day for them, and they were all in a holiday attire. The field in which the men were hanged looked like a country fair. Booths were erected. An enterprising Yankee had a side show and educated pig, and itinerant musicians enlivened the occasion. After the hanging the crowds of whites went away, but the negroes hung about the field and around the shallow graves of the felons until dark. They had determined to have a ball, but according to some superstition among them it could not begin until after the midnight hour. A large barn in the field was swept clean by hundreds of willing hands. At 12 o'clock it was crowded. 

On a small stage in a corner the stand for the musicians was placed, which was occupied by four banjo players and one fiddle. In the middle of the room was another stand, upon which the man who called out the figures stood. It was a weird scene. Boys stood in the corners of the room with pine knot torches, which filled the place with smoke, and made a murky light.

At 12:15 the festivities began. Peter Johnson, a burly tobacco hand, occupied the stand in the middle of the room, and sang out in stentorian voice: "Choose your partners." The strangely made up orchestra struck up "The Mississippi Sawyer," a wild Ethiopian air, and the dancing began. As the music went on, the musicians and dances grew wild and wilder, until they shouted and sang as though possessed by the devil. Such exclamations as "I could die dis moment" "Oh, Lord, how happy I is" and the like were heard, especially from the women. At about two o'clock Lucinda Macon, an old voudou(sic) negress, suddenly made her appearance in the barn. The musicians and dancers stopped in terror. The old hag slipped into the middle of the room, and then began a series of strange incantation scenes. The "trick" doctress* was dressed in an old blue and white checkered dress, and had in. her hand a large bundle, tied up in a red handkerchief. She opened it, and after muttering a lot of gibberish, in what the negroes say here was an African dialect, she said she had the rope with which the man were banged, and that after she had touched any bit of it that piece would secure the possessor against the evil designs of any person who tricked them or poisoned them. She cut it up in small bits, and over each bit she muttered and sprinkled something from an old jog, and then 'she sold it for fifty cents. The rush for these pieces of rope was great. The men fought for them.

This ceremony was kept up until 2:30 a.m. The rope did not go around, and when this became known those who did not get a piece acted like fiends, and begged the hag for a thread only. She told them that nothing else would effect the charm except small particles of the clothing in which the men were buried. A large party then started off to. the grave underneath the gallows, for the purpose of disinterring the bodies and bringing back the garments. They soon returned in horror to the ball room, swearing that they had seen the two men who were hanged walking around the grave. The hag added to the excitement by declaring at the top of her voice, singing cut the words, that Smith and Christian had not died, because she had given them a charm. The secret is, that the visit of the dancers to the grave frightened off two resurrectionists who were after the bodies for the doctors. The dancing and singing were kept up until 5 o'clock. It was announced by the voudou doctress that all who danced at the gallows ball would be able to dance as long as they lived, no matter if they lived to be ninety one"

-Shepherdstown Register, April 05, 1879

* hoodoo man or conjurer

Gallow's Ball XI - "After the Dance of Death"

Where in we first come across the name of this series . . .

LETTER FROM RICHMOND

 . . .

The strangest circumstance connected with the execution in New Kent yesterday has been heard or here to day. For want of a better name it may be called a "gallows ball." So it was. Hundreds of negroes remained around the place after the execution had taken place and when the shades of night set in they had a grand ball in honor of the occasion. The ball took place in an old barn near by, the music being furnished by three banjos and a fiddle. The place was lit up by pine knot torches, and the dance was begun to the wild notes of that grand old Ethiopian melody, "The Mississippi Sawyer." Virginia has furnished the greatest men of the United States, and now being tired of this sort of thing and aiming to do something original, she strikes out on a now track and caps the climax with a gallows ball after the dance of death. A gallows ball! Ha! ha! what strange visions rise at the words? What shadowy forms and horribly contorting figures come in view phantom-like and disgusting. After the poor devils swing off by a hempen rope the darkey fiddler yells out "swing corners," and the ball commences. After the two murderers are lead up to the gibbet, the musician yells out amid trilling banjos and shrieking fiddle, "lead up four," and the dance goes on. The darkies of New Kent take the lead now. The ball was kept up until a late hour, and Pat. Smith, whose body lay in a shallow grave near by, must have slept soundly or else he would have been shaken out by the moving feet of the crowd dancing around him.
STRONGBOW

-Alexandria Gazette, March 27, 1879

Gallow's Ball X - From The New York Herald

A more sensational, and yet perhaps more honest, account of the double execution.

BRUTAL MURDER AVENGED!

Patrick Smith and Julius Christian Hanged in Virginia.

CALLOUSNESS OF THE CULPRITS.

Speedy Retribution Follows the Killing of J. C. Lacy.

[BY TELEGRAPH TO THE HERALD]

New Kent Court House, Va., March 25, 1879.

The brutal butchery of John C. Lacy on the 17th of January last was avenged here to-day by the execution of his murderers, Patrick Smith and Julius Christian. No tragedy ever before created such terrible indignation in New Kent county. The prisoners have been in the jail of Henrico county, as there is none here, but were brought from Richmond this morning. Leaving that city by the cars at six o'clock, they were met at Summit Station, on the York River and Chesapeake Railroad, where they were placed in a wagon and surrounded by an armed guard of twenty men. On the way the prisoners chatted and very freely discussed the crime for which they were on their way to pay the penalty, frequently laughing when they explained the dexterity with which they caught Lacy, gashed his throat and finally dispatched him. They seemed to gloat over the last appeal he made for mercy, and Smith was boisterously merry in describing the death struggle of the victim.

UTTERLY UNREPENTANT

It was difficult to understand whether they were the most hardened and abandoned criminals or merely ignorant brutes. They smoked cigars with an evident relish, and begged for ten cent pieces of silver, which they said they wished "to keep." One of those who accompanied them remarked that he felt sore from riding, to which Julius Christian responded "I'll be sorer than dat to-morrow by dis time," and he laughed heartily at the horrible sally. From early in the morning crowds were thronging into the village on horseback, foot and in every conceivable sort of vehicle. The town by ten o'clock was filled with people of all classes, colors and conditions, and the rum sellers did an excellent business. Negroes as well as whites wore their best, and all of them impressed the observer with the idea that they were intent on enjoying the day and making the most of the occasion. Not a soul seemed to  regard the coming tragedy in the light of a terrible example of vengeance meted out by the laws of both God and man for murder.

MAKING A FETE DAY.

In keeping with the merriment, which seemed general, an enterprising manager had a good sized marquee erected in view of the scaffold, in which he gave a combination exhibition of burnt cork opera, a Punch and Judy show, an educated hog, several performing monkeys and a limited menagerie of other small animals. This was liberally patronized during the entire-day. The performances commenced at nine A.M., so that the many colored populace were amply supplied with light comedy on the one hand and horrible tragedy on the other. 

The scaffold was erected on the brow of a hill, with a thin growth of pine trees, to the east of the town and about one thousand yards outside its limits. It was decent in appearance, but not perfect in construction. The fall allowed was only a little over four feet, and it seemed as if it was intended to strangle its victims. Their feet would necessarily come into proximity with the earth.

ARRIVAL OF THE CONDEMNED.

A little before eleven o'clock A. M. the wagon with the criminals and its escort of mounted men, which had been augmented to about one hundred, entered the village, and a rush was made for it. The rum mills, oyster carts, booths, lunch stands and combination show were promptly deserted for the more important spectacle of the doomed men. As quickly as possible they were taken from the wagon and conducted to the Court House, around the door of which the mob were struggling, to effect an entrance. By courtesy of Commonwealth Attorney Lacy and Judge Christian, the Herald correspondent gained admittance and found the criminals answering the hundred questions propounded to them about the murder. No time was lost however, and they were soon shroud in two long sable robes with frilled and escalloped collars after the Elizabethan style.

FAREWELLS.

They had written letters of farewell, one to his poor mother and the other to his sister, and they exonerated as far as it was in their power old Andrew Whitney from any complicity in the murder. Once more they were conducted to and seated in the wagon, this time in two black coffins, and again the procession formed and took its final march to the gallows. Following the wagon was the Judge, Commonwealth Attorney and other officials and privileged persons. At this time the morbidly curious crowd flocked frantically across the ploughed(sic) ground to the scaffold, in the vicinity of which large numbers found eligible positions in the tree tops. Observing this Patrick Smith exclaimed as they neared the scene. "De good Lord, look at the folks like buzzards in the trees." There was nothing solemn or impressive in the proceedings.

ON THE DROP.

Arrived at the scaffold the condemned men ascended the steps leading to the drop with a firm and steady tread. They then made addresses, in which, as usual, they both claimed to have made their peace with their Maker. Christian, who was on the right, seemed to become fervent and eloquent. They reiterated statements previously made by them about the murder substantially as given below. Pat Smith made an elaborate statement about the tragedy, giving in detail the part taken by both of them, and during which portion in the crowd uttered imprecations on them. When they were concluded the Sheriff read the death warrant, and at ten minutes to twelve o'clock A.M. they were pinioned and the block caps drawn over their face. At twelve M. at a signal the prop supporting the drop was drawn out and the two murderers fell. The rope that held Christian slipped and his feet nearly touched the earth. The nooses being loosely adjusted the knots swung around to the backs of their necks. 

Smith's fall was a little over three feet. He barely quivered, but Christian struggled convulsively for several moments. Smith's neck is said to have been broken. Christian died of strangulation. After remaining suspended for twenty minutes life was pronounced extinct and the bodies were cut down. They were placed in two coffins and buried in a hole dug for the purpose in front and to the left of the scaffold. The crowd then hurried back to resume the amusements in the village.

HISTORY OF THE CRIME

Soon after daylight on the morning of Saturday, January 1 last, the body of John C. Lacy, of this county, was found on the road leading from Cedar Grove to Long Bridge, and within one and a half miles of his own home. Cedar Grove is about twenty miles front Richmond on the forge road, and Lacy's residence was two miles below Cedar Grove. He had driven to the city the day previous in a mule cart to dispose of some hogs, and was evidently murdered and robbed on his return home. When discovered the body presented a ghastly appearance, and the surroundings indicate that a terrible struggle had taken place. The head was nearly severed from the trunk; a large portion of the throat seemed to have been actually torn out. Several gashes and cuts were found on the skull, and about the arms and breast. The features were distorted, clotted with blood, and mutilated, and the chest, arms and bands were covered with gore. The bushes in the vicinity were bespattered with blood. This mule had either wandered home with the cart or been driven there by the murderers, for they were found in the enclosure of Lacy's premises, the animal being unhitched.

.

VIEWING THE BODY

Though the country thereabouts is but thinly inhabited, a large crowd had assembled by noon near the scene of the tragedy. The greatest excitement prevailed, and this was greatly aggravated by the piteous walling of Lacy's grief-stricken wife and six children, and threats of lynching the murderers when discovered were uttered. An inquest was opened, but at first no clue to the perpetrators was found. On the next day, however, by some unaccountable agency suspicion fell upon an old negro of bad character named Andrew Whiting, and finally led to the arrest of the actual murderers. Whiting's premises were searched and several articles of blood stained clothing with found hidden under a bed, which were afterward identified as belonging to two young negroes named Pat Smith and Julius Christian. Living with old Whiting was Claiborn Smith, a younger brother of Pat Smith, who, as soon as the clothing was found, surrendered himself and made a confession which led to the arrest of the others named, including the old man Whiting. Smith and Christian were arrested by four brothers named Wallace, who, armed with shotguns, surprised them at the residence of Christian's brother-in-law, near Talleysville, and delivered them over to the authorities. 

In their possession was found the hat of Mr. Lacy, $4 in money, a quantity of groceries, some calico and matches, all of which they had taken from him on the night of the murder. A preliminary examination was held before a bench of magistrates, at which Claiborn disclosed a fiendish and well concocted plot on the part of his brother and Christian. They were all committed for trial, and the excitement quickly subsided.

ORIGIN OF THE CRIME.

If the negroes are now to be believed- and circumstances strongly support their statements- some very extraordinary relations existed between them and Lacy. The bitter man what is known in the South as a "poor white man," whose reputation for honesty and fair dealing wax not the very best. He had a small farm, on which he frequently employed Smith and Christian. They alleged that Lacy carried on a very questionable traffic in hogs which he and they captured in the swamps and woods from time to time, without regard their ownership. Those hogs were killed and cleaned and taken to market by Lacy and sold, the proceeds being divided between the negroes and himself. To use the expression of one of them, "Lacey did not tote fair about the hogs," and this engendered "hard feelings" between them. He would not pay the money claimed by them for wages and their shares of the proceeds of the sales. Smith said Lacy owed him $50, and Christian demanded $10 as the amount due him. Lacy was profuse in his promises to pay, but never could be gotten to hand them the money. Further than this the negroes had robbed a store in the neighborhood, they said, and had given Lacy's family some of the stolen goods, and when they became relentless in their demands for money he threatened them with arrest for the burglary. It was the fear of the execution of this utter threat, coupled with the belief that he would never pay them the money he owed, that led to the determination on their part to commit the terrible deed on the evening of January 17.

THE MURDER.

It appears that on the Sunday evening preceding the 17th of January Pat Smith, Julius Christian and Claiborn Smith had a conference, during which the situation was discussed and the murder planned. Pat presided, and stated that a certain party must be put out of the way. No name was called, but they were all well aware who was meant, and though no words were spoken, Pat's proposition was assented to. It was known to them that Lacy would go to Richmond on the following Friday to dispose of some hogs; that he would return in the evening, and would be an easy victim, as he was usually more or less under the influence of liquor on these occasions. The place was well detected. It was where the road ran through a swamp which was thickly wooded, and not far from an old graveyard, near a place called Emmaus Church. Accordingly, on Friday evening they were all there in that neighborhood, ostensibly hunting. It was about five o'clock, and darkness was rapidly setting in when they heard the rumble of his cart as he approached them. They allowed him to pass and then stealthily followed the cart for half a mile until it was quite dark. At this juncture the heart of Claiborne failed and he lingered behind. The other called to him to come on. He replied, "All right," and pretended to be tying his shoe. He then ran home. Pat and Julius overtook the cart, and the former, running under it from behind, seized Lacy by his legs, which were hanging down in front. The mule stopped. Lacy then seized a hatchet which he had in the cart, but not before Julius Christian had made a severe gash in his throat with a knife. A hand to hand contest followed between Christian and Lacy, during which the latter dropped his hatchet, and both rolled and tumbled a considerable distance from the cart. He succeeded in getting in a sitting posture, when Christian again gashed his throat with the knife. He then sprang to his feet, and exclaiming, "Don't hurt me! Anything I've got in the cart you can have," tried to escape by running. This appeal was unheeded. Smith run back and picked up the hatchet, chased Lacy, and, catching him by the arm, with the hatchet struck him a terrific blow on the side of the head, felling him to the ground. Christian again sprung upon him and again plunged the knife into his throat, tearing it across his windpipe. When he had done this, Smith, with butcher like brutality, chopped the hatchet into Lacy's throat, where it became so firmly fixed that it required a considerable wrench to extricate it.

PLUNDER

The murderers then searched his body and found $4 in money. They took the groceries and calico and the few other articles which Lacy had purchased for his family, and then left the scene for their home, whither Claiborn had preceded them. This was old Whiting's house, and here they hid their blood stained clothes, but in order to avoid suspicion they went that same night to the house of Christian's brother-in-law, where they were arrested. 

The trial commenced at New Kent Court House on Thursday, the 14th of February, and lasted until the 14th, when Pat Smith and Julius Christian were sentenced to be hanged, and Claiborn Smith was sent to the Penitentiary for eighteen years. The old negro, Andrew Whiting, and his mother, alleged to be implicated in the murder, yet remain to be tried.

THE MURDERERS

Pat Smith was an interior type of the genuine negro, twenty-two years of age. He stood about five foot eight inches high, was black, had coarse features, thick lips, flat nose, slanting forehead, was muscular and weighed 160 pounds. 

Julius Christian was a dark mulatto, twenty-one years old, five feet six inches high, of stout build and exhibiting great strength. He was more intelligent than Smith.

THE MURDERED MAN

John C. Lacy was about forty years of age, medium sized, with long black hair and dark eyes, and looked very much like an Indian. He was of respectable parentage, but as he grew up displayed traits of character that almost alienated him from his family and friends.

-The New York Herald, March 26, 1879