42. A Courier's Evening
By A TROOPER (1863)
OF all the duties performed by our soldiers in this war, none were more dangerous or exciting than those of the
courier. True, the infantry and artillery fought the pitched battles, and the cavalry led the advance, held the outposts,
or made long rides around the enemy's flanks; but they were conducted in person by officers of judgment and
experience, and, besides, individual danger is immeasurably lessened by facing it en masse.
To the courier, however, were intrusted the written commands for the movements of the army, with which he
was expected to make his way alone (unless particular danger was foreseen) through a country that was probably
penetrated by the enemy's scouts or infested by the more dreaded guerillas.
We had just got settled into camp again, at Trenton,
Georgia, after the laborious scaling of Sand Mountain, when, early one bright starry morning, the orderlies shook
us out from the comfortable blankets, with injunctions to pack everything and saddle up immediately. Then we started
on a long and dusty, but a pleasant, starlight ride across the valley, passing the rear camps of McCook and Thomas,
from which the reveille was beating merrily in the crisp morning air. These corps were on the march to cross the
Lookout Mountains, which loomed up grandly in the distance. We were not long in discovering the nature of our
new duties. As we proceeded, details of five or six men, under a non-commissioned officer, were left at convenient
points along the road; these were stations or reliefs on the courier line which we were forming. Our station was the
most remote from the head-quarters of the army, while the constant advance of the different corps left us every day
more isolated.
It was about ten o'clock on a cool night in the early part of September. Our little cabin blazed with a cheerful fire,
which sent a gleam of dancing light out through the open doorway and across the road. The couriers, belted and
spurred, stood or reclined in all sorts of positions around the fire, silently awaiting despatches. We had learned to be
expectant at night, as experience bad proved that the majority of the mysterious packages came through at that
time. Sergeant Daniels had just made a remark to that effect, when the familiar sound of horse's feet broke upon
our ears. Mine were, perhaps, more alive to the sound at that moment than the rest, it being my turn to carry the next
despatch. I walked to the door to listen. By the speed of the approaching
messenger, I knew that the missive he carried was in haste. In advance of his arrival, therefore, I proceeded to mount
Shiloh, who was in excellent trim, and rubbed his nose briskly on my shoulder as I untied him. He knew right well
that a long and perilous journey was to be made, and like a brave animal snorted defiance.
In another moment the courier arrived. Sergeant Daniels examined the despatch, and handed it to me as I rode up to
the door. By the light from within I glanced at the superscription and read: "Major General Thomas,
commanding 14th Corps. Full speed."An instant later I was galloping away.
The night was very clear, but chilly, and I braced myself anew for the weary ride. I had traversed those roads several
times before at night, but on this occasion they appeared to be unusually gloomy. The fenceless fields by which I swept
seemed more forlorn than usual; the woods were darker through which I felt my way; the hideous cry of the owls
seemed to fill the air with demon voices. I could not shake from me the presentiment of some impending evil.
Instinctively my hand sought the revolver at my side, and half-cocked it. The action caused Shiloh to prick up his ears
and increase his speed, and in a short time I found myself under the bold brow of Lookout, which shut out half the
heavens, and rendered the darkness more intense.
The approach to the mountain lies through a dense woods, along the outer skirt of which flowed a small
stream. Approaching the creek, I loosened the rein in order to allow my horse to drink, as he was accustomed to do at
this place. The banks were rather steep, and as he lowered his nose and was about to
feel his way into the water, the woods behind were torn into a million echoes by the report of a rifle ! At the same time
my horse plunged madly forward into the creek, lost his Looting, and we both went down together. It will readily be
believed that I was scared; but I preserved sufficient presence of mind to disengage my feet from the stirrups and
to draw my pistol, which I held up out of the water. The current of the stream was neither deep nor strong, so that
Shiloh and myself soon regained our feet, and made all haste up the opposite bank. It was not until that moment that
I noticed a mounted figure darkly outlined on the other side of the stream. It was my would-be murderer, who had
doubtless expected to find me dead or disabled. I gave him a positive assurance to the contrary by discharging a shot at
him, which caused the figure to disappear as suddenly as it had come. I listened to the sound of the rascal's retreat until
it died away in the distance. Then, wringing some of the water out of my clothes, and remounting, I pushed forward
with all speed from what appeared to be a dangerous locality.
But my horse had not proceeded twenty yards before I perceived that his strength was failing. His steps lagged
more and more every moment, in spite of my utmost efforts to urge him forward. With a heavy heart I
dismounted and examined him. My fears proved too true : he was wounded. I felt a perforation, from which the warm
blood oozed slowly down his flanks. The brave beast finally succumbed, and with a deep drawn sigh staggered heavily to
the ground. For awhile my own danger was forgotten in sympathy for the poor horse. He had borne me
faithfully and well through a thousand perils, and now he was giving up his life in my service.
My situation was certainly alarming. The bushwhacker might follow me, and it was equally probable that others of
his clan were lying in advance, to make sure of the victim. Those dreadful marauders seldom traveled alone.
For aught I knew their practiced eyes might even then be staring through the darkness around me. For a moment or
two I was in a painful state of indecision. In night rides I had always trusted implicitly to the instinct of my horse;
but now that resource was denied me, and my topographical instincts were none of the best. Should I make my way back
to the station, remount and bring a comrade with me ? A feeling of pride determined me to go forward at all hazards
and deliver my despatch. Quickly stripping the bridle, blanket, and saddle-bags from the dead animal, and securing
them about my person, I gave my belt an extra hitch, and started forward.
By the position of the few stars that were visible I assumed the time to be near midnight. The road up the
mountain was fearfully trying to legs and wind. For two hours (as I judged) I clambered up the rocky way, stopping
every hundred yards to rest and fill my exhausted lungs. The air grew colder as I neared the summit, and the heavy dew
saturated my cap and great-coat, already well soaked in the creek. It was growing lighter, too, as I ascended. I turned at
times to look off into the valley behind, which stretched away dark and shadowy to the horizon.
I turned away with a sigh and bent my steps again toward the summit. I had not gone far when "Halt! who comes
there? "yelled out shrill and clear, as if
from the clouds. The unexpected challenge thrilled me to the marrow. Was it a rebel or a Union picket? The
lightning-like process by which I arrived at the conclusion that my challenger was a Federal sentry, is long since
forgotten; but to such a conclusion I did arrive in an instant.
Answering—
"A courier with despatches."
"Dismount, courier, and advance,"he replied.
As I was already dismounted, I proceeded to obey the latter part of the injunction. I had gone but a few yards,
however, when I was halted again. "Where's your horse?" inquired the sentinel, who was evidently growing
suspicious. This question led to an explanation of affairs; and in a short time I was the centre of a gaping crowd on the
mountain top, to whom I related my adventure in the valley. My listeners were a portion of Harrison's Mounted
Infantry, who were returning from a scout. I hold in grateful remembrance a tin-cup full of hot coffee, which one of
these brave boys prepared for my benefit. I think they called him "Gussy."Aided by the advice of these boys, and
a captured mule which they loaned me, I was not long in finding the way into the other valley, where the newly risen
sun and freshly traveled roads enabled me to keep track of the 14th Corps. I found the Head-Quarters of Thomas in the
saddle, and delivered my despatch to one of his staff.
