The Iron Furnace; or, Slavery and Secession

Engraved by Samuel Sartain, Phil^a.

THE IRON FURNACE:
OR,
SLAVERY AND SECESSION.

BY
REV. JOHN H. AUGHEY,
A REFUGEE FROM MISSISSIPPI.

PHILADELPHIA:
WILLIAM S. & ALFRED MARTIEN.
606 CHESTNUT STREET.
1863.

Entered, according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1863,
By WILLIAM S. & ALFRED MARTIEN,
In the office of the Clerk of the District Court for the
Eastern District of Pennsylvania.

TO MY PERSONAL FRIENDS
REV. CHARLES C. BEATTY, D.D., LL.D.,
OF STEUBENVILLE, OHIO,
Moderator of the General Assembly of the (O.S.) Presbyterian
Church in the United States of America,
and long Pastor of the Church in which
my parents were members, and
our family worshippers;
REV. WILLIAM PRATT BREED,
Pastor of the West Spruce Street Presbyterian Church, of
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania;
GEORGE HAY STUART, Esq.,
OF PHILADELPHIA, PA.,
The Philanthropist, whose virtues are known and
appreciated in both hemispheres,
THIS VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED.

PREFACE.

A celebrated author thus writes: “Posterity is under no obligations to a man who is not a parent, who has never planted a tree, built a house, nor written a book.” Having fulfilled all these requisites to insure the remembrance of posterity, it remains to be seen whether the author’s name shall escape oblivion.

It may be that a few years will obliterate the name affixed to this Preface from the memory of man. This thought is the cause of no concern. I shall have accomplished my purpose if I can in some degree be humbly instrumental in serving my country and my generation, by promoting the well-being of my fellow-men, and advancing the declarative glory of Almighty God.

This work was written while suffering intensely from maladies induced by the rigours of the Iron Furnace of Secession, whose sevenfold heat is reserved for the loyal citizens of the South. Let this fact be a palliation for whatever imperfections the reader may meet with in its perusal.

There are many loyal men in the southern States, who to avoid martyrdom, conceal their opinions. They are to be pitied—not severely censured. All those southern ministers and professors of religion who were eminent for piety, opposed secession till the States passed the secession ordinance. They then advocated reconstruction as long as it comported with their safety. They then, in the face of danger and death, became quiescent—not acquiescent, by any means—and they now “bide their time,” in prayerful trust that God will, in his own good time, subvert rebellion, and overthrow anarchy, by a restoration of the supremacy of constitutional law. By these, and their name is legion, my book will be warmly approved. My fellow-prisoners in the dungeon at Tupelo, who may have survived its horrors, and my fellow-sufferers in the Union cause throughout the South, will read in my narrative a transcript of their own sufferings. The loyal citizens of the whole country will be interested in learning the views of one who has been conversant with the rise and progress of secession, from its incipiency to its culmination in rebellion and treason. It will also doubtless be of general interest to learn something of the workings of the “peculiar institution,” and the various phases which it assumes in different sections of the slave States.

Compelled to leave Dixie in haste, I had no time to collect materials for my work. I was therefore under the necessity of writing without those aids which would have secured greater accuracy. I have done the best that I could under the circumstances; and any errors that may have crept into my statements of facts, or reports of addresses, will be cheerfully rectified as soon as ascertained.

That I might not compromise the safety of my Union friends who rendered me assistance, and who are still within the rebel lines, I was compelled to omit their names, and for the same reason to describe rather indefinitely some localities, especially the portions of Ittawamba, Chickasaw, Pontotoc, Tippah, and Tishomingo counties, through which I travelled while escaping to the Federal lines. This I hope to be able to correct in future editions.

Narratives require a liberal use of the first personal pronoun, which I would have gladly avoided, had it been possible without tedious circumlocution, as its frequent repetition has the appearance of egotism.

I return sincere thanks to my fellow-prisoners who imperilled their own lives to save mine, and also to those Mississippi Unionists who so generously aided a panting fugitive on his way from chains and death to life and liberty. My thanks are also due to Rev. William P. Breed, for assistance in preparing my work for the press.

I am also under obligations to Rev. Francis J. Collier, of Philadelphia; to Rev. A. D. Smith, D. D., and Rev. J. R. W. Sloane, of New York, and to Rev. F. B. Wheeler, of Poughkeepsie, New York.

May the Triune God bless our country, and preserve its integrity!

JOHN HILL AUGHEY.

February 1, 1863.

CONTENTS.

THE IRON FURNACE;
OR
SLAVERY AND SECESSION.

CHAPTER I.

SECESSION.

Speech of Colonel Drane.—Submission Denounced.—Northern Aggression.—No more Slave States.—Northern isms.—Yankees’ Servants.—Yankee inferiority.—Breckinridge, or immediate, complete, and eternal Separation.—A Day of Rejoicing.—Abraham Lincoln President elect.—A Union Speech.—A Southerner’s Reasons for opposing Secession.—Address by a Radical Secessionist.—Cursing and Bitterness.—A Prayer.—Sermon against Secession.—List of Grievances.—Causes which led to Secession.

At the breaking out of the present rebellion, I was engaged in the work of an Evangelist in the counties of Choctaw and Attala in Central Mississippi. My congregations were large, and my duties onerous. Being constantly employed in ministerial labours, I had no time to intermeddle with politics, leaving all such questions to statesmen, giving the complex issues of the day only sufficient attention to enable me to vote intelligently. Thus was I engaged when the great political campaign of 1860 commenced—a campaign conducted with greater virulence and asperity than any I have ever witnessed. During my casual detention at a store, Colonel Drane arrived, according to appointment, to address the people of Choctaw. He was a member of one of my congregations, and as he had been long a leading statesman in Mississippi, having for many years presided over the State Senate, I expected to hear a speech of marked ability, unfolding the true issues before the people, with all the dignity, suavity, and earnestness of a gentleman and patriot; but I found his whole speech to be a tirade of abuse against the North, commingled with the bold avowal of treasonable sentiments. The Colonel thus addressed the people:

My Fellow-Citizens—I appear before you to urge anew resistance against the encroachments and aggressions of the Yankees. If the Black Republicans carry their ticket, and Old Abe is elected, our right to carry our slaves into the territories will be denied us; and who dare say that he would be a base, craven submissionist, when our God-given and constitutional right to carry slavery into the common domain is wickedly taken from the South. The Yankees cheated us out of Kansas by their infernal Emigrant Aid Societies. They cheated us out of California, which our blood-treasure purchased, for the South sent ten men to one that was sent by the North to the Mexican war, and thus we have no foothold on the Pacific coast; and even now we pay five dollars for the support of the general Government where the North pays one. We help to pay bounties to the Yankee fishermen in New England; indeed we are always paying, paying, paying, and yet the North is always crying, Give, give, give. The South has made the North rich, and what thanks do we receive? Our rights are trampled on, our slaves are spirited by thousands over their underground railroad to Canada, our citizens are insulted while travelling in the North, and their servants are tampered with, and by false representations, and often by mob violence, forced from them. Douglas, knowing the power of the Emigrant Aid Societies, proposes squatter sovereignty, with the positive certainty that the scum of Europe and the mudsills of Yankeedom can be shipped in in numbers sufficient to control the destiny of the embryo State. Since the admission of Texas in 1845, there has not been a single foot of slave territory secured to the South, while the North has added to their list the extensive States of California, Minnesota, and Oregon, and Kansas is as good as theirs; while, if Lincoln is elected, the Wilmot proviso will be extended over all the common territories, debarring the South for ever from her right to share the public domain.

The hypocrites of the North tell us that slaveholding is sinful. Well, suppose it is. Upon us and our children let the guilt of this sin rest; we are willing to bear it, and it is none of their business. We are a more moral people than they are. Who originated Mormonism, Millerism, Spirit-rappings, Abolitionism, Free-loveism, and all the other abominable isms which curse the world? The reply is, the North. Their puritanical fanaticism and hypocrisy is patent to all. Talk to us of the sin of slavery, when the only difference between us is that our slaves are black and theirs white. They treat their white slaves, the Irish and Dutch, in a cruel manner, giving them during health just enough to purchase coarse clothing, and when they become sick, they are turned off to starve, as they do by hundreds every year. A female servant in the North must have a testimonial of good character before she will be employed; those with whom she is labouring will not give her this so long as they desire her services; she therefore cannot leave them, whatever may be her treatment, so that she is as much compelled to remain with her employer as the slave with his master.

Their servants hate them; our’s love us. My niggers would fight for me and my family. They have been treated well, and they know it. And I don’t treat my slaves any better than my neighbours. If ever there comes a war between the North and the South, let us do as Abraham did—arm our trained servants, and go forth with them to the battle. They hate the Yankees as intensely as we do, and nothing could please our slaves better than to fight them. Ah, the perfidious Yankees! I cordially hate a Yankee. We have all suffered much at their hands; they will not keep faith with us. Have they complied with the provisions of the Fugitive Slave Law? The thousands and tens of thousands of slaves aided in their escape to Canada, is a sufficient answer. We have lost millions, and are losing millions every year, by the operations of the underground railroad. How deep the perfidy of a people, thus to violate every article of compromise we have made with them! The Yankees are an inferior race, descended from the old Puritan stock, who enacted the Blue Laws. They are desirous of compelling us to submit to laws more iniquitous than ever were the Blue Laws. I have travelled in the North, and have seen the depth of their depravity. Now, my fellow-citizens, what shall we do to resist Northern aggression? Why simply this: if Lincoln or Douglas are elected, (as to the Bell-Everett ticket, it stands no sort of chance,) let us secede. This remedy will be effectual. I am in favour of no more compromises. Let us have Breckinridge, or immediate, complete, and eternal separation.

The speaker then retired amid the cheers of his audience.

Soon after this there came a day of rejoicing to many in Mississippi. The booming of cannon, the joyous greeting, the soul-stirring music, indicated that no ordinary intelligence had been received. The lightnings had brought the tidings that Abraham Lincoln was President elect of the United States, and the South was wild with excitement. Those who had been long desirous of a pretext for secession, now boldly advocated their sentiments, and joyfully hailed the election of Mr. Lincoln as affording that pretext. The conservative men were filled with gloom. They regarded the election of Mr. Lincoln, by the majority of the people of the United States, in a constitutional way, as affording no cause for secession. Secession they regarded as fraught with all the evils of Pandora’s box, and that war, famine, pestilence, and moral and physical desolation would follow in its train. A call was made by Governor Pettus for a convention to assemble early in January, at Jackson, to determine what course Mississippi should pursue, whether her policy should be submission or secession.

Candidates, Union and Secession, were nominated for the convention in every county. The speeches of two, whom I heard, will serve as a specimen of the arguments used pro and con. Captain Love, of Choctaw, thus addressed the people.

My Fellow-Citizens—I appear before you to advocate the Union—the Union of the States under whose favoring auspices we have long prospered. No nation so great, so prosperous, so happy, or so much respected by earth’s thousand kingdoms, as the Great Republic, by which name the United States is known from the rivers to the ends of the earth. Our flag, the star-spangled banner, is respected on every sea, and affords protection to the citizens of every State, whether amid the pyramids of Egypt, the jungles of Asia, or the mighty cities of Europe. Our Republican Constitution, framed by the wisdom of our Revolutionary fathers, is as free from imperfection as any document drawn up by uninspired men. God presided over the councils of that convention which framed our glorious Constitution. They asked wisdom from on high, and their prayers were answered. Free speech, a free press, and freedom to worship God as our conscience dictates, under our own vine and fig-tree, none daring to molest or make us afraid, are some of the blessings which our Constitution guarantees; and these prerogatives, which we enjoy, are features which bless and distinguish us from the other nations of the earth. Freedom of speech is unknown amongst them; among them a censorship of the press and a national church are established.

Our country, by its physical features, seems fitted for but one nation. What ceaseless trouble would be caused by having the source of our rivers in one country and the mouth in another. There are no natural boundaries to divide us into separate nations. We are all descended from the same common parentage, we all speak the same language, and we have really no conflicting interests, the statements of our opponents to the contrary notwithstanding. Our opponents advocate separate State secession. Would not Mississippi cut a sorry figure among the nations of the earth? With no harbour, she would be dependent on a foreign nation for an outlet. Custom-house duties would be ruinous, and the republic of Mississippi would find herself compelled to return to the Union. Mississippi, you remember, repudiated a large foreign debt some years ago; if she became an independent nation, her creditors would influence their government to demand payment, which could not be refused by the weak, defenceless, navyless, armyless, moneyless, repudiating republic of Mississippi. To pay this debt, with the accumulated interest, would ruin the new republic, and bankruptcy would stare us in the face.

It is true, Abraham Lincoln is elected President of the United States. My plan is to wait till Mr. Lincoln does something unconstitutional. Then let the South unanimously seek redress in a constitutional manner. The conservatives of the North will join us. If no redress is made, let us present our ultimatum. If this, too, is rejected, I for one will not advocate submission; and by the coöperation of all the slave States, we will, in the event of the perpetration of wrong, and a refusal to redress our grievances, be much abler to secure our rights, or to defend them at the cannon’s mouth and the point of the bayonet. The Supreme Court favours the South. In the Dred Scott case, the Supreme Court decided that the negro was not a citizen, and that the slave was a chattel, as we regard him. The majority of Congress on joint ballot is still with the South. Although we have something to fear from the views of the President elect and the Chicago platform, let us wait till some overt act, trespassing upon our rights, is committed, and all redress denied; then, and not till then, will I advocate extreme measures.

Let our opponents remember that secession and civil war are synonymous. Who ever heard of a government breaking to pieces without an arduous struggle for its preservation? I admit the right of revolution, when a people’s rights cannot otherwise be maintained, but deny the right of secession. We are told that it is a reserved right. The constitution declares that all rights not specified in it are reserved to the people of the respective States; but who ever heard of the right of total destruction of the government being a reserved right in any constitution? The fallacy is evident at a glance. Nine millions of people can afford to wait for some overt act. Let us not follow the precipitate course which the ultra politicians indicate. Let W. L. Yancey urge his treasonable policy of firing the Southern heart and precipitating a revolution; but let us follow no such wicked advice. Let us follow the things which make for peace.

We are often told that the North will not return fugitive slaves. Will secession remedy this grievance? Will secession give us any more slave territory? No free government ever makes a treaty for the rendition of fugitive slaves—thus recognising the rights of the citizens of a foreign nation to a species of property which it denies to its own citizens. Even little Mexico will not do it. Mexico and Canada return no fugitives. In the event of secession, the United States would return no fugitives, and our peculiar institution would, along our vast border, become very insecure; we would hold our slaves by a very slight tenure. Instead of extending the great Southern institution, it would be contracting daily. Our slaves would be held to service at their own option, throughout the whole border, and our gulf States would soon become border States; and the great insecurity of this species of property would work, before twenty years, the extinction of slavery, and, in consequence, the ruin of the South. Are we prepared for such a result? Are we prepared for civil war? Are we prepared for all the evils attendant upon a fratricidal contest—for bloodshed, famine, and political and moral desolation? I reply, we are not; therefore let us look before we leap, and avoiding the heresy of secession—

“Rather bear the ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of.”

A secession speaker was introduced, and thus addressed the people:

Ladies and Gentlemen—Fellow-Citizens—I am a secessionist out and out; voted for Jeff Davis for Governor in 1850, when the same issue was before the people; and I have always felt a grudge against the free state of Tishomingo for giving H. S. Foote, the Union candidate, a majority so great as to elect him, and thus retain the State in this accursed Union ten years longer. Who would be a craven-hearted, cowardly, villanous submissionist? Lincoln, the abominable, white-livered abolitionist, is President elect of the United States; shall he be permitted to take his seat on Southern soil? No, never! I will volunteer as one of thirty thousand, to butcher the villain if ever he sets foot on slave territory. Secession or submission! What patriot would hesitate for a moment which to choose? No true son of Mississippi would brook the idea of submission to the rule of the baboon Abe Lincoln—a fifth-rate lawyer, a broken-down hack of a politician, a fanatic, an abolitionist. I, for one, would prefer an hour of virtuous liberty to a whole eternity of bondage under northern, Yankee, wooden-nutmeg rule. The halter is the only argument that should be used against the submissionists, and I predict that it will soon, very soon, be in force.

We have glorious news from Tallahatchie. Seven tory-submissionists were hanged there in one day, and the so-called Union candidates, having the wholesome dread of hemp before their eyes, are not canvassing the county; therefore the heretical dogma of submission, under any circumstances, disgraces not their county. Compromise! let us have no such word in our vocabulary. Compromise with the Yankees, after the election of Lincoln, is treason against the South; and still its syren voice is listened to by the demagogue submissionists. We should never have made any compromise, for in every case we surrendered rights for the sake of peace. No concession of the scared Yankees will now prevent secession. They now understand that the South is in earnest, and in their alarm they are proposing to yield us much; but the die is cast, the Rubicon is crossed, and our determination shall ever be, No union with the flat-headed, nigger-stealing, fanatical Yankees.

We are now threatened with internecine war. The Yankees are an inferior race; they are cowardly in the extreme. They are descended from the Puritan stock, who never bore rule in any nation. We, the descendants of the Cavaliers, are the Patricians, they the Plebeians. The Cavaliers have always been the rulers, the Puritans the ruled. The dastardly Yankees will never fight us; but if they, in their presumption and audacity, venture to attack us, let the war come—I repeat it—let it come! The conflagration of their burning cities, the desolation of their country, and the slaughter of their inhabitants, will strike the nations of the earth dumb with astonishment, and serve as a warning to future ages, that the slaveholding Cavaliers of the sunny South are terrible in their vengeance. I am in favour of immediate, independent, and eternal separation from the vile Union which has so long oppressed us. After separation, I am in favour of non-intercourse with the United States so long as time endures. We will raise the tariff, to the point of prohibition, on all Yankee manufactures, including wooden-nutmegs, wooden clocks, quack nostrums, &c. We will drive back to their own inhospitable clime every Yankee who dares to pollute our shores with his cloven feet. Go he must, and if necessary, with the bloodhounds on his track. The scum of Europe and the mudsills of Yankeedom shall never be permitted to advance a step south of 36° 30′. South of that latitude is ours—westward to the Pacific. With my heart of hearts I hate a Yankee, and I will make my children swear eternal hatred to the whole Yankee race. A mongrel breed—Irish, Dutch, Puritans, Jews, free niggers, &c.—they scarce deserve the notice of the descendants of the Huguenots, the old Castilians, and the Cavaliers. Cursed be the day when the South consented to this iniquitous league—the Federal Union—which has long dimmed her nascent glory.

In battle, one southron is equivalent to ten northern hirelings; but I regard it a waste of time to speak of Yankees—they deserve not our attention. It matters not to us what they think of secession, and we would not trespass upon your time and patience, were it not for the tame, tory submissionists with which our country is cursed. A fearful retribution is in waiting for the whole crew, if the war which they predict, should come. Were they then to advocate the same views, I would not give a fourpence for their lives. We would hang them quicker than old Heath would hang a tory. Our Revolutionary fathers set us a good example in their dealings with the tories. They sent them to the shades infernal from the branches of the nearest tree. The North has sent teachers and preachers amongst us, who have insidiously infused the leaven of Abolitionism into the minds of their students and parishioners; and this submissionist policy is a lower development of the doctrine of Wendell Philips, Gerritt Smith, Horace Greely, and others of that ilk. We have a genial clime, a soil of uncommon fertility. We have free institutions, freedom for the white man, bondage for the black man, as nature and nature’s God designed. We have fair women and brave men. The lines have truly fallen to us in pleasant places. We have indeed a goodly heritage. The only evil we can complain of is our bondage to the Yankees through the Federal Union. Let us burst these shackles from our limbs, and we will be free indeed.

Let all who desire complete and eternal emancipation from Yankee thraldom, come to the polls on the —— day of December, prepared not to vote the cowardly submissionist ticket, but to vote the secession ticket; and their children, and their children’s children, will owe them a debt of gratitude which they can never repay. The day of our separation and vindication of States’ rights, will be the happiest day of our lives. Yankee domination will have ceased for ever, and the haughty southron will spurn them from all association, both governmental and social. So mote it be!

This address was received with great eclat.

On the next Sabbath after this meeting, I preached in the Poplar Creek Presbyterian church, in Choctaw county, from Romans xiii. 1: “Let every soul be subject unto the higher powers. For there is no power but of God: the powers that be, are ordained of God.”

Previous to the sermon a prayer was offered, of which the following is the conclusion:

Almighty God—We would present our country, the United States of America, before thee. When our political horizon is overcast with clouds and darkness, when the strong-hearted are becoming fearful for the permanence of our free institutions, and the prosperity, yea, the very existence of our great Republic, we pray thee, O God, when flesh and heart fail, when no human arm is able to save us from the fearful vortex of disunion and revolution, that thou wouldst interpose and save us. We confess our national sins, for we have, as a nation, sinned grievously. We have been highly favoured, we have been greatly prospered, and have taken our place amongst the leading powers of the earth. A gospel-enlightened nation, our sins are therefore more heinous in thy sight. They are sins of deep ingratitude and presumption. We confess that drunkenness has abounded amongst all classes of our citizens. Rulers and ruled have been alike guilty; and because of its wide-spreading prevalence, and because our legislators have enacted no sufficient laws for its suppression, it is a national sin. Profanity abounds amongst us; Sabbath-breaking is rife; and we have elevated unworthy men to high positions of honour and trust. We are not, as a people, free from the crime of tyranny and oppression. For these great and aggravated offences, we pray thee to give us repentance and godly sorrow, and then, O God, avert the threatened and imminent judgments which impend over our beloved country. Teach our Senators wisdom. Grant them that wisdom which is able to make them wise unto salvation; and grant also that wisdom which is profitable to direct, so that they may steer the ship of State safely through the troubled waters which seem ready to engulf it on every side. Lord, hear us, and answer in mercy, for the sake of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen and Amen!

The following is a synopsis of my sermon:

Israel had been greatly favoured as a nation. No weapon formed against them prospered, so long as they loved and served the Lord their God. They were blessed in their basket and their store. They were set on high above all the nations of the earth. * * * * When all Israel assembled, ostensibly to make Rehoboam king, they were ripe for rebellion. Jeroboam and other wicked men had fomented and cherished the sparks of treason, till, on this occasion, it broke out into the flame of open rebellion. The severity of Solomon’s rule was the pretext, but it was only a pretext, for during his reign the nation prospered, grew rich and powerful. Jeroboam wished a disruption of the kingdom, that he might bear rule; and although God permitted it as a punishment for Israel’s idolatry, yet he frowned upon the wicked men who were instrumental in bringing this great evil upon his chosen people.

The loyal division took the name of Judah, though composed of the two tribes, Judah and Benjamin. The revolted ten tribes took the name of their leading tribe, Ephraim. Ephraim continued to wax weaker and weaker. Filled with envy against Judah, they often warred against that loyal kingdom, until they themselves were greatly reduced. At last, after various vicissitudes, the ten tribes were carried away, and scattered and lost. We often hear of the lost ten tribes. What became of them is a mystery. Their secession ended in their being blotted out of existence, or lost amidst the heathen. God alone knows what did become of them. They resisted the powers that be—the ordinance of God—and received to themselves damnation and annihilation.

As God dealt with Israel, so will he deal with us. If we are exalted by righteousness, we will prosper; if we, as the ten tribes, resist the ordinance of God, we will perish. At this time, many are advocating the course of the ten tribes. Secession is a word of frequent occurrence. It is openly advocated by many. Nullification and rebellion, secession and treason, are convertible terms, and no good citizen will mention them with approval. Secession is resisting the powers that be, and therefore it is a violation of God’s command. Where do we obtain the right of secession? Clearly not from the word of God, which enjoins obedience to all that are in authority, to whom we must be subject, not only for wrath, but also for conscience’ sake. The following scriptural argument for secession is often used, 1 Tim. vi. 1—5. In these verses Paul was addressing believing servants, and commanding them to absent themselves from the teaching of those who taught not the doctrine which is according to godliness. In a former epistle he had commanded Christians not to keep company with the incestuous person who had his father’s wife. He directed that they should not keep company with any man who was called a brother, if he were a fornicator, or covetous, or an idolator, or a railer, or a drunkard, or an extortioner; with such a one no not to eat; but he expressly declares that he does not allude to those who belong to the above classes that have made no profession of religion. He does not judge them that are without, for them that are without, God judgeth. He afterwards exhorts that the church confirm their love toward the incestuous person as he had repented of his wickedness. This direction of the Apostle to believers to withdraw from a brother who walked disorderly, till he had manifested proper repentance; and his exhortation to believing servants to absent themselves from the teachings of errorists, cannot logically be construed as a scriptural argument in favour of secession. Were the President of the United States an unbeliever, a profane swearer, a Sabbath-breaker, or a drunkard, this fact would not, per se, give us the right to secede or rebel against the government.

There is no provision made in the Constitution of the United States for secession. The wisest statesmen, who made politics their study, regarded secession as a political heresy, dangerous in its tendencies, and destructive of all government in its practical application. Mississippi, purchased from France with United States gold, fostered by the nurturing care, and made prosperous by the wise administration of the general government, proposes to secede. Her political status would then be anomalous. Would her territory revert to France? Does she propose to refund the purchase-money? Would she become a territory under the jurisdiction of the United States Congress?

Henry Clay, the great statesman, Daniel Webster, the expounder of the Constitution, General Jackson, George Washington, and a mighty host, whose names would fill a volume, regarded secession as treason. One of our smallest States, which swarmed with tories in the Revolution, whose descendants still live, invented the doctrine of nullification, the first treasonable step, which soon culminated in the advocacy of secession. Why should we secede, and thus destroy the best, the freest, and most prosperous government on the face of the earth? the government which our patriot fathers fought and bled to secure. What has Mississippi lost by the Union? I have resided seven years in this State, and have an extensive personal acquaintance, and yet I know not a single individual who has lost a slave through northern influence. I have, it is true, known of some ten slaves who have run away, and have not been found. They may have been aided in their escape to Canada by northern and southern citizens, for there are many in the South who have given aid and comfort to the fugitive; but the probability is that they perished in the swamps, or were destroyed by the bloodhounds.

The complaint is made that the North regards slavery as a moral, social, and political evil, and that many of them denounce, in no measured terms, both slavery and slaveholders. To be thus denounced is regarded as a great grievance. Secession would not remedy this evil. In order to cure it effectually, we must seize and gag all who thus denounce our peculiar institution. We must also muzzle their press. As this is impracticable, it would be well to come to this conclusion:—If we are verily guilty of the evils charged upon us, let us set about rectifying those evils; if not, the denunciations of slanderers should not affect us so deeply. If our northern brethren are honest in their convictions of the sin of slavery, as no doubt many of them are, let us listen to their arguments without the dire hostility so frequently manifested. They take the position that slavery is opposed to the inalienable rights of the human race; that it originated in piracy and robbery; that manifold cruelties and barbarities are inflicted upon the defenceless slaves; that they are debarred from intellectual culture by State laws, which send to the penitentiary those who are guilty of instructing them; that they are put upon the block and sold; parent and child, husband and wife being separated, so that they never again see each other’s face in the flesh; that the law of chastity cannot be observed, as there are no laws punishing rape on the person of a female slave; that when they escape from the threatened cat-o’-nine-tails, or overseer’s whip, they are hunted down by bloodhounds, and bloodier men; that often they are half-starved and half-clad, and are furnished with mere hovels to live in; that they are often murdered by cruel overseers, who whip them to death, or overtask them, until disease is induced, which results in death; that masters practically ignore the marriage relation among slaves, inasmuch as they frequently separate husband and wife, by sale or removal; that they discourage the formation of that relation, preferring that the offspring of their female slaves should be illegitimate, from the mistaken notion that it would be more numerous. They charge, also, that slavery induces in the masters, pride, arrogance, tyranny, laziness, profligacy, and every form of vice.

The South takes the position, that if slavery is sinful, the North is not responsible for that sin; that it is a State institution, and that to interfere with slavery in the States in any way, even by censure, is a violation of the rights of the States. The language of our politicians is, Upon us and our children rest the evil! We are willing to take the responsibility, and to risk the penalty! You will find evil and misery enough in the North to excite your philanthropy, and employ your beneficence. You have purchased our cotton; you have used our sugar; you have eaten our rice; you have smoked and chewed our tobacco—all of which are the products of slave-labour. You have grown rich by traffic in these articles; you have monopolized the carrying trade, and borne our slave-produced products to your shores. Your northern ships, manned by northern men, brought from Africa the greater part of the slaves which came to our continent, and they are still smuggling them in. When, finding slavery unprofitable, the northern States passed laws for gradual emancipation, but few obtained their freedom, the majority of them being shipped South and sold, so that but few, comparatively, were manumitted. If the slave trade and slavery are great sins, the North is particeps criminis, and has been from the beginning.

These bitter accusations are hurled back and forth through the newspapers; and in Congress, crimination and recrimination occur every day of the session. Instead of endeavouring to calm the troubled waters, politicians are striving to render them turbid and boisterous. Sectional bitterness and animosity prevail to a fearful extent; but secession is not the proper remedy. To cure one evil by perpetrating a greater, renders a double cure necessary. In order to cure a disease, the cause should be known, that we may treat it intelligently, and apply a proper remedy. Having observed, during the last eleven years, that sectional strife and bitterness were increasing with fearful rapidity, I have endeavoured to stem the torrent, so far as it was possible for individual effort to do so. I deem it the imperative duty of all patriots, of all Christians, to throw oil upon the troubled waters, and thus save the ship of State from wreck among the vertiginous billows.

Most of our politicians are demagogues. They care not for the people, so that they accomplish their own selfish and ambitious schemes. Give them power, give them money, and they are satisfied. Deprive them of these, and they are ready to sacrifice the best interests of the nation to secure them. They excite sectional animosity and party strife, and are willing to kindle the flames of civil war to accomplish their unhallowed purposes. They tell us that there is a conflict of interest between the free and slave States, and endeavour to precipitate a revolution, that they may be leaders, and obtain positions of trust and profit in the new government which they hope to establish. The people would be dupes indeed to abet these wicked demagogues in their nefarious designs. Let us not break God’s command, by resisting the ordinance of God—the powers that be. I am not discussing the right of revolution, which I deem a sacred right. When human rights are invaded, when life is endangered, when liberty is taken away, when we are not left free to pursue our own happiness in our own chosen way—so far as we do not trespass upon the rights of others—we have a right, and it becomes our imperative duty to resist to the bitter end, the tyranny which would deprive us and our children of our inalienable rights. Our lives are secure; we have freedom to worship God. Our liberty is sacred; we may pursue happiness to our hearts’ content. We do not even charge upon the general Government that it has infringed these rights. Whose life has been endangered, or who has lost his liberty by the action of the Government? If that man lives, in all this fair domain of ours, he has the right to complain. But neither you nor I have ever heard of or seen the individual who has thus suffered. We have therefore clearly no right of revolution.

Treason is no light offence. God, who rules the nations, and who has established governments, will punish severely those who attempt to overthrow them. Damnation is stated to be the punishment which those who resist the powers that be, will suffer. Who wishes to endure it? I hope none of my charge will incur this penalty by the perpetration of treason. You yourselves can bear me witness that I have not heretofore introduced political issues into the pulpit, but at this time I could not acquit my conscience were I not to warn you against the great sin some of you, I fear, are ready to commit.

Were I to discuss the policy of a high or low tariff, or descant upon the various merits attached to one or another form of banking, I should be justly obnoxious to censure. Politics and religion, however, are not always separate. When the political issue is made, shall we, or shall we not, grant license to sell intoxicating liquors as a beverage? the minister’s duty is plain; he must urge his people to use their influence against granting any such license. The minister must enforce every moral and religious obligation, and point out the path of truth and duty, even though the principles he advocates are by statesmen introduced into the arena of political strife, and made issues by the great parties of the day. I see the sword coming, and would be derelict in duty not to give you faithful warning. I must reveal the whole counsel of God. I have a message from God unto you, which I must deliver, whether you will hear, or whether you will forbear. If the sword come, and you perish, I shall then be guiltless of your blood. As to the great question at issue, my honest conviction is (and I think I have the Spirit of God,) that you should with your whole heart, and soul, and mind, and strength, oppose secession. You should talk against it, you should write against it, you should vote against it, and, if need be, you should fight against it.

I have now declared what I believe to be your high duty in this emergency. Do not destroy the government which has so long protected you, and which has never in a single instance oppressed you. Pull not down the fair fabric which our patriot fathers reared at vast expense of blood and treasure. Do not, like the blind Samson, pull down the pillars of our glorious edifice, and cause death, desolation, and ruin. Perish the hand that would thus destroy the source of all our political prosperity and happiness. Let the parricide who attempts it receive the just retribution which a loyal people demand, even his execution on a gallows, high as Haman’s. Let us also set about rectifying the causes which threaten the overthrow of our government. As we are proud, let us pray for the grace of humility. As a State, and as individuals, we too lightly regard its most solemn obligations; let us, therefore, pray for the grace of repentance and godly sorrow, and hereafter in this respect sin no more. As many transgressions have been committed by us, let the time past of our lives suffice us to have wrought the will of the flesh, and now let us break off our sins by righteousness, and our transgressions by turning unto the Lord, and he will avert his threatened judgments, and save us from dissolution, anarchy, and desolation.

If our souls are filled with hatred against the people of any section of our common country, let us ask from the Great Giver the grace of charity, which suffereth long and is kind, which envieth not, which vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, does not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things, and which never faileth; then shall we be in a suitable frame for an amicable adjustment of every difficulty; oil will soon be thrown upon the troubled waters, and peace, harmony, and prosperity would ever attend us; and our children, and our children’s children will rejoice in the possession of a beneficent and stable government, securing to them all the natural and inalienable rights of man.

CHAPTER II.

VIGILANCE COMMITTEE AND COURT-MARTIAL.

The election of Delegates to determine the status of Mississippi—The Vigilance Committee—Description of its members—Charges—Phonography—No formal verdict—Danger of Assassination—Passports—Escape to Rienzi—Union sentiment—The Conscript Law—Summons to attend Court-Martial—Evacuation of Corinth—Destruction of Cotton—Suffering poor—Relieved by General Halleck.

Soon after this sermon was preached, the election was held. Approaching the polls, I asked for a Union ticket, and was informed that none had been printed, and that it would be advisable to vote the secession ticket. I thought otherwise, and going to a desk, wrote out a Union ticket, and voted it amidst the frowns and suppressed murmurs of the judges and bystanders, and, as the result proved, I had the honour of depositing the only vote in favour of the Union which was polled in that precinct. I knew of many who were in favour of the Union, who were intimidated by threats, and by the odium attending it from voting at all. A majority of secession candidates were elected. The convention assembled, and on the 9th of January, 1861, Mississippi had the unenviable reputation of being the first to follow her twin sister, South Carolina, into the maelstrom of secession and treason. Being the only States in which the slaves were more numerous than the whites, it became them to lead the van in the slave-holders’ rebellion. Before the 4th of March, Florida, Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana and Texas had followed in the wake, and were engulfed in the whirlpool of secession.

It was now dangerous to utter a word in favour of the Union. Many suspected of Union sentiments were lynched. An old gentleman in Winston county was arrested for an act committed twenty years before, which was construed as a proof of his abolition proclivities. The old gentleman had several daughters, and his mother-in-law had given him a negro girl. Observing that his daughters were becoming lazy, and were imposing all the labour upon the slave, he sent her back to the donor, with a statement of the cause for returning her. This was now the ground of his arrest, but escaping from their clutches, a precipitate flight alone saved his life.

Self-constituted vigilance committees sprang up all over the country, and a reign of terror began; all who had been Union men, and who had not given in their adhesion to the new order of things by some public proclamation, were supposed to be disaffected. The so-called Confederate States, the new power, organized for the avowed purpose of extending and perpetuating African slavery, was now in full blast. These soi-disant vigilance committees professed to carry out the will of Jeff. Davis. All who were considered disaffected were regarded as being tinctured with abolitionism. My opposition to the disruption of the Union being notorious, I was summoned to appear before one of these august tribunals to answer the charge of being an abolitionist. My wife was very much alarmed, knowing that were I found guilty of the charge, there was no hope for mercy. Flight was impossible, and I deemed it the safest plan to appear before the committee. I found it to consist of twelve persons, five of whom I knew, viz., Parson Locke, Armstrong, Cartledge, Simpson, and Wilbanks. Parson Locke, the chief speaker, or rather the inquisitor-general, was a Methodist minister, though he had fallen into disrepute among his brethren, and was engaged in a tedious strife with the church which he left in Holmes county. The parson was a real Nimrod. He boasted that in five months he had killed forty-eight raccoons, two hundred squirrels, and ten deer; he had followed the bloodhounds, and assisted in the capture of twelve runaway negroes. W. H. Simpson was a ruling elder in my church. Wilbanks was a clever sort of old gentleman, who had little to say in the matter. Armstrong was a monocular Hard-shell-Baptist. Cartledge was an illiterate, conceited individual. The rest were a motley crew, not one of whom, I feel confident, knew a letter in the alphabet. The committee assembled in an old carriage-shop. Parson Locke acted, as chairman, and conducted the trial, as follows.

“Parson Aughey, you have been reported to us as holding abolition sentiments, and as being disloyal to the Confederate States.”

“Who reported me, and where are your witnesses?”

“Any one has a right to report, and it is optional whether he confronts the accused or not. The proceedings of vigilance committees are somewhat informal.”

“Proceed, then, with the trial, in your own way.”

“We propose to ask you a few questions, and in your answers you may defend yourself, or admit your guilt. In the first place, did you ever say that you did not believe that God ordained the institution of slavery?”

“I believe that God did not ordain the institution of slavery.”

“Did not God command the Israelites to buy slaves from the Canaanitish nations, and to hold them as their property for ever?”

“The Canaanites had filled their cup of iniquity to overflowing, and God commanded the Israelites to exterminate them; this, in violation of God’s command, they failed to do. God afterwards permitted the Hebrews to reduce them to a state of servitude; but the punishment visited upon those seven wicked nations by the command of God, does not justify war or the slave-trade.”

“Did you say that you were opposed to the slavery which existed in the time of Christ?”

“I did, because the system of slavery prevailing in Christ’s day was cruel in the extreme; it conferred the power of life and death upon the master, and was attended with innumerable evils. The slave had the same complexion as his master; and by changing his servile garb for the citizen dress, he could not be recognised as a slave. You yourself profess to be opposed to white slavery.”

“Did you state that you believed Paul, when he sent Onesimus back to Philemon, had no idea that he would be regarded as a slave, and treated as such after his return?”

“I did. My proof is in Philemon, verses 15 and 16, where the apostle asks that Onesimus be received, not as a servant, but as a brother beloved?”

“Did you tell Mr. Creath that you knew some negroes who were better, in every respect, than some white men?”

“I said that I knew some negroes who were better classical scholars than any white men I had as yet met with in Choctaw county, and that I had known some who were pre-eminent for virtue and holiness. As to natural rights, I made no comparison; nor did I say anything about superiority or inferiority of race; I also stated my belief in the unity of the races.”

“Have you any abolition works in your library, and a poem in your scrap-book, entitled ‘The Fugitive Slave,’ with this couplet as a refrain,

‘The hounds are baying on my track;
Christian, will you send me back?’”

“I have not Mrs. Stowe’s nor Helper’s work; they are contraband in this region, and I could not get them if I wished. I have many works in my library containing sentiments adverse to the institution of slavery. All the works in common use amongst us, on law, physic, and divinity, all the text-books in our schools—in a word, all the works on every subject read and studied by us, were, almost without exception, written by men opposed to the peculiar institution. I am not alone in this matter.”

“Parson, I saw Cowper’s works in your library, and Cowper says:

‘I would not have a slave to fan me when I sleep,
And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth
That sinews bought and sold have ever earned.’”

“You have Wesley’s writings, and Wesley says that ‘Human slavery is the sum of all villany.’ You have a work which has this couplet:

‘Two deep, dark stains, mar all our country’s bliss:
Foul slavery one, and one, loathed drunkenness.’

You have the work of an English writer of high repute, who says, ‘Forty years ago, some in England doubted whether slavery were a sin, and regarded adultery as a venial offence; but behold the progress of truth! Who now doubts that he who enslaves his fellow-man is guilty of a fearful crime, and that he who violates the seventh commandment is a great sinner in the sight of God?’”

“You are known to be an adept in Phonography, and you are reported to be a correspondent of an abolition Phonographic journal.”

“I understand the science of Phonography, and I am a correspondent of a Phonographic journal, but the journal eschews politics.”

Another member of the committee then interrogated me.

“Parson Aughey, what is Funnyography?”

“Phonography, sir, is a system of writing by means of a philosophic alphabet, composed of the simplest geometrical signs, in which one mark is used to represent one and invariably the same sound.”

“Kin you talk Funnyography? and where does them folks live what talks it?”

“Yes, sir, I converse fluently in Phonography, and those who speak the language live in Columbia.”

“In the Destrict?”

“No, sir, in the poetical Columbia.”

I was next interrogated by another member of the committee.

“Parson Aughey, is Phonography a Abolition fixin?”

“No, sir; Phonography, abstractly considered, has no political complexion; it may be used to promote either side of any question, sacred or profane, mental, moral, physical, or political.”

“Well, you ought to write and talk plain English, what common folks can understand, or we’ll have to say of you, what Agrippa said of Paul, ‘Much learning hath made thee mad.’ Suppose you was to preach in Phonography, who’d understand it?—who’d know what was piped or harped? I’ll bet high some Yankee invented it to spread his abolition notions underhandedly. I, for one, would be in favour of makin’ the parson promise to write and talk no more in Phonography. I’ll bet Phonography is agin slavery, tho’ I never hearn tell of it before. I’m agin all secret societies. I’m agin the Odd-fellers, Free-masons, Sons of Temperance, Good Templars and Phonography. I want to know what’s writ and what’s talked. You can’t throw dust in my eyes. Phonography, from what I’ve found out about it to-day, is agin the Confederate States, and we ought to be agin it.”

Parson Locke then resumed:

“I must stop this digression. Parson Aughey, are you in favour of the South?”

“I am in favour of the South, and have always endeavoured to promote the best interests of the South. However, I never deemed it for the best interests of the South to secede. I talked against secession, and voted against secession, because I thought that the best interests of the South would be put in jeopardy by the secession of the Southern States. I was honest in my convictions, and acted accordingly. Could the sacrifice of my life have stayed the swelling tide of secession, it would gladly have been made.”

“It is said that you have never prayed for the Southern Confederacy.”

“I have prayed for the whole world, though it is true that I have never named the Confederate States in prayer.”

“You may retire.”

After I had retired, the committee held a long consultation. My answers were not satisfactory. I never learned all that transpired. They brought in no formal verdict. The majority considered me a dangerous man, but feared to take my life, as they were, with one exception, adherents of other denominations, and they knew that my people were devotedly attached to me before the secession movement. Some of the secessionists swore that they would go to my house and murder me, when they learned that the committee had not hanged me. My friends provided me secretly with arms, and I determined to defend myself to the last. I slept with a double-barrelled shot-gun at my head, and was prepared to defend myself against a dozen at least.

Learning that I was not acceptable to many of the members of my church, whilst my life was in continual jeopardy, and my family in a state of constant alarm, I abandoned my field of labour, and sought for safety in a more congenial clime. I intended to go North. Jeff. Davis and his Congress had granted permission to all who so desired, to leave the South. Several Union men of my acquaintance applied for passports, but were refused. The proclamation to grant permits was an act of perfidy; all those, so far as I am informed, who made application for them, were refused. The design in thus acting was to get Union men to declare themselves as such, and afterwards to punish them for their sentiments by forcing them into the army, confining them in prison, shooting them, or lynching them by mob violence. Finding that were I to demand a passport to go north, I would be placed on the proscribed list, and my life endangered still more, I declared my intention of going back to Tishomingo county, in which I owned property, and which was the home of many of my relatives. I knew that I would be safer there, for this county had elected Union delegates by a majority of over fourteen hundred, and a strong Union sentiment had always prevailed.

On my arrival in Tishomingo, I found that the great heart of the county still beat true to the music of the Union. Being thrown out of employment I deemed it my duty, in every possible way, to sustain the Union cause and the enforcement of the laws. It was impossible to go north. Union sentiments could be expressed with safety in many localities. Corinth, Iuka, and Rienzi had, from the commencement of the war, been camps of instruction for the training of Confederate soldiers. These three towns in the county being thus occupied, Union men found it necessary to be more cautious, as the cavalry frequently made raids through the county, arresting and maltreating those suspected of disaffection. After the reduction of Forts Henry and Donelson, and the surrender of Nashville, the Confederates made the Memphis and Charleston railroad the base of their operations, their armies extending from Memphis to Chattanooga. Soon, however, they were all concentrated at Corinth, a town in Tishomingo county, at the junction of the Memphis and Charleston railroad with the Mobile and Ohio. After the battle of Shiloh, which was fought on the 6th and 7th of April, the Federal troops held their advance at Farmington, four miles from Corinth, while the Confederates occupied Corinth, their rear guard holding Rienzi, twelve miles south, on the Mobile and Ohio railroad.

Thus there were two vast armies encamped in Tishomingo county. Being within the Confederate lines, I, in common with many others, found it difficult to evade the conscript law. Knowing that in a multitude of counsellors there is wisdom, we held secret meetings, in order to devise the best method of resisting the law. We met at night, and had our countersigns to prevent detection. Often our wives, sisters, and daughters met with us. Our meeting-place was some ravine, or secluded glen, as far as possible from the haunts of the secessionists; all were armed; even the ladies had revolvers, and could use them too. The crime of treason we were resolved not to commit. Our counsels were somewhat divided, some advocating, as a matter of policy, the propriety of attending the militia musters, others opposing it for conscience’ sake, and for the purpose of avoiding every appearance of evil. Many who would not muster as conscripts, resolved to escape to the Federal lines; and making the attempt two or three at a time, succeeded in crossing the Tennessee river, and reaching the Union army, enlisted under the old flag, and have since done good service as patriot warriors. Some who were willing to muster as conscripts, were impressed into the Confederate service, and I know not whether they ever found an opportunity to desert. Others, myself among the number, were saved by the timely arrival of the Federal troops, and the occupation of the county by them, after Beauregard’s evacuation of Corinth. I had received three citations to attend muster, but disregarding them, I was summoned to attend a court-martial on the first day of June, at the house of Mr. Jim Mock. The following is a copy of the citation.

Ma the 22d. 1862

Parson Awhay, You havent tended nun of our mustters as a konskrip. Now you is her bi sumenzd to attend a kort marshal on Jun the fust at Jim Mock.

When I received the summons, I resolved to attempt reaching the Union lines at Farmington. Two of my friends, who had received a similar summons, expected to accompany me. On the 29th of May, I left for Rienzi, where my two friends were to meet me. I had not been many hours in Rienzi when it became evident that the Confederates were evacuating Corinth. On the 1st of June, (the day the court-martial was to convene,) I had the pleasure of once more beholding the star-spangled banner as it was borne in front of General Granger’s command, which led the van of the pursuing army. Had I remained and attended the court-martial, I would have been forced into the army. Were I then to declare that I would not take up arms against the United States, I would have been shot, as many have been, for their refusal thus to act. General Rosecrans, on his arrival, made his head-quarters at my brother’s house, where I had the pleasure of forming his acquaintance, together with that of Generals Smith, Granger, and Pope. As this county was now occupied by the Federal army, I returned to my father-in-law’s, within five miles of which place the court-martial had been ordered to convene, considering myself comparatively safe. I learned that the court-martial never met, as Colonel Elliott, in his successful raid upon Boonville, had passed Jim Mock’s, scaring him to such a degree, that he did not venture to sleep in his house for two weeks. The Union cavalry scoured the country in all directions, daily, and we were rejoicing at the prospect of continuous safety, and freedom from outrage.

The Rebels, during their retreat, had burned all the cotton which was accessible to their cavalry, on their route. At night, the flames of the burning cotton lighted up the horizon for miles around. These baleful pyres, with their lurid glare, bore sad testimony to the horrors of war. In this wanton destruction of the great southern staple, many poor families lost their whole staff of bread, and starvation stared them in the face. Many would have perished, had it not been for the liberal contributions of the North; for, learning the sufferings of the poor of the South, whose whole labour had been destroyed by pretended friends, they sent provisions and money, and thus many who were left in utter destitution, were saved by this timely succor. I have heard the rejoicings of the poor, who, abandoned by their supposed friends, were saved, with their children, from death, by the beneficence of those whom they had been taught to regard as enemies the most bitter, implacable, unmerciful, and persistent. Their prayer may well be, Save us from our friends, whose tender mercies are cruel! I have never known a man to burn his own cotton, but I have heard their bitter anathemas hurled against those who thus robbed them, and their denunciations were loud and deep against the government which authorized such cruelty. It is true that those who thus lose their cotton, if secessionists, receive a “promise to pay,” which all regard as not worth the paper on which it is written. Ere pay-day, those who are dependent on their cotton for the necessaries of life, would have passed the bourne whence no traveller returns. ’Tis like the Confederate bonds—at first they were made payable two years after date, and printed upon paper which would be worn out entirely in six months, and would have become illegible in half that time. The succeeding issues were made payable six months after the ratification of a treaty of peace between the United States and the Confederate States. Though not a prophet, nor a prophet’s son, I venture the prediction that those bonds will never be due. The war of elements, the wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds, announcing the end of all things, will be heard sooner.

CHAPTER III.

ARREST, ESCAPE, AND RECAPTURE.

High price of Provisions—Holland Lindsay’s Family—The arrest—Captain Hill—Appearance before Colonel Bradfute at Fulton—Arrest of Benjamin Clarke—Bradfute’s Insolence—General Chalmers—The clerical Spy—General Pfeifer—Under guard—Priceville—General Gordon—Bound for Tupelo—The Prisoners entering the Dungeon—Captain Bruce—Lieutenant Richard Malone—Prison Fare and Treatment—Menial Service—Resolve to escape—Plan of escape—Federal Prisoners—Co-operation of the Prisoners—Declaration of Independence—The Escape—The Separation—Concealment—Travel on the Underground Railroad—Pursuit by Cavalry and Bloodhounds—The Arrest—Dan Barnes, the Mail-robber—Perfidy—Heavily ironed—Return to Tupelo.

At this time—May and June, 1862—all marketable commodities were commanding fabulous prices; as a lady declared, it would soon be necessary, on going to a store, to carry two baskets, one to hold the money, and the other the goods purchased. Flour was thirty dollars per barrel, bacon forty cents per pound, and coffee one dollar per pound. Salt was nominally one hundred dollars per sack of one hundred pounds, or one dollar per pound, but there was none to be obtained even at that price. Ladies were compelled to dispense with salt in their culinary operations; even the butter was unsalted. Cotton-cards, an article used in every house at the South, the ordinary price of which is fifty cents per pair, were selling at twenty-five dollars per pair, and wool-cards at fifteen dollars per pair, the usual price being thirty-eight cents. All the cotton used in the manufacture of home-made cloth, is carded into rolls upon these cotton-cards, which are brought from the North, there being not a single manufactory of them in the South. When the supply on hand becomes exhausted, the southern home manufacture of cloth must cease, no one as yet having been able to suggest a substitute for the cotton-card. There are only three factories in Mississippi, which must cease running as soon as their machinery wears out, as the most important parts of the machinery in those factories are supplied from the North. The people are fully aware of these difficulties, but they can devise no remedy, hence the high price of all articles used in the manufacture of all kinds of cloths. All manufactured goods were commanding fabulous prices. On the occupation of the county by Federal troops, goods could be obtained at reasonable prices, but our money was all gone, except Confederate bonds, which were worthless. Planters who were beyond the lines of the retreating army had cotton, but many of them feared to sell it, as the Rebels professed to regard it treason to trade with the invaders, and threatened to execute the penalty in every case. As there was no penalty attached to the selling of cotton by one citizen of Mississippi to another, some of my friends offered to sell me their cotton for a reasonable price.

I was solicited also to act as their agent in the purchase of commodities. I agreed to this risk, because of the urgent need of my friends, many of whom were suffering greatly for the indispensable necessaries of life. I thought it was better that one should suffer, than that the whole people should perish. By this arrangement my Union friends would escape the punishment meted out to those who were found guilty of trading with the Yankees; if discovered, I alone would be amenable to their unjust and cruel law, and they would thus save their cotton, which was liable to be destroyed at any moment by a dash of rebel cavalry. I now hired a large number of wagons to haul cotton into Eastport and Iuka, that I might ship it to the loyal States. On the 2d of June the wagons were to rendezvous at a certain point; there were a sufficient number to haul one hundred bales per trip. I hoped to keep them running for some time.

On the first of June I rode to Mr. Holland Lindsay’s on business. I had learned that he was a rabid secessionist, but supposed that no rebel cavalry had come so far north as his house since the evacuation of Corinth. Mr. Lindsay had gone to a neighbour’s. His wife was weaving; she was a coarse, masculine woman, and withal possessed of strong prejudice against all whom she did not like, but especially the Yankees. I sat down to await the arrival of her husband, and it was not long before Mrs. Lindsay broached the exciting topic of the day, the war. She thus vented her spleen against the Yankees.

“There was some Yankee calvary passed here last week—they asked me if there wos ony rebels scoutin round here lately. I jest told em it want none of ther bizness. Them nasty, good for nothin scamps callen our men rebels. Them nigger-stealin, triflin scoundrels. They runs off our niggers, and wont let us take em to Mexico and the other territories.”

I ventured to remark, “The Yankees are mean, indeed, not to let us take our negroes to the Territories, and not to help catch them for us when they run off.”

The emphatic us and our nettled her, as none of the Lindsays ever owned a negro, being classed by the southern nabobs as among the poor white trash; nor did I ever own a slave. Her husband, however, had once been sent to the Legislature, which led the family to ape the manners, and studiously copy the ultraism of the classes above them. Mrs. Lindsay became morose. I concluded to ride over and see her husband.

On my way I met a member of Hill’s cavalry. He halted me, inquired my name and business, which I gave. He said that, years ago, he had heard me preach, and that he was well acquainted with my brothers-in-law, who were officers in the Rebel army. He informed me that his uncle, Mr. Lindsay, had gone across the field home, and that he himself was on his way there. I returned with him, but fearing arrest, my business was hastily attended to, and I at once started for my horse. By this time one or two other cavalry-men rode up. I heard Mrs. Lindsay informing her nephew that I was a Union man, and advising my arrest. When I had reached my horse, Mr. Davis, Lindsay’s nephew arrested me, and sent my horse to the stable. After supper, my horse was brought, and I was taken to camp. Four men were detached to guard me during the night. They ordered me to lie down on the ground and sleep. As it had rained during the day, and I had no blanket, I insisted upon going to a Mr. Spigener’s, about fifty yards distant, to secure a bed. After some discussion they consented, the guards remaining in the room, and guarding me by turns during the night. The next morning I sought Captain Hill, and asked permission to return home, when the following colloquy ensued.

“Are you a Union man?”

“I voted the Union ticket, sir.”

“That is not a fair answer. I voted the Union ticket myself, and am now warring against the Union.”

“I have seen no good reason for changing my sentiments.”

“You confess, then, that you are a Union man?”

“I do; I regard the union of these States as of paramount importance to the welfare of the people inhabiting them.”

“You must go to head-quarters, where you will be dealt with as we are accustomed to deal with all the abettors of an Abolition government.”

A heavy guard was then detached to take charge of me, and the company set off for Fulton, the county seat of Ittawamba county, Mississippi, distant thirty miles. After going about ten miles, we halted, and two men were detached to go forward with the prisoners, a Mr. Benjamin Clarke and myself. Our guards were Dr. Crossland, of Burnsville, Tishomingo county, Mississippi, and Ferdinand Woodruff. They were under the influence of liquor, and talked incessantly, cursing and insulting us, on every occasion, by abusive language. They detailed to each other a history of their licentious amours. We halted for dinner at one o’clock, and being out of money, they asked me to pay their bill, which I did, they promising to refund the amount when they reached Fulton. This they forgot to do.

On our arrival at Fulton, we were taken into the office of the commander of the post, Colonel Bradfute. My fellow-prisoner was examined first. Woodruff stated that they had played off on Mr. Clarke—calling on him, as he was plowing in the field, stating that they were Federal soldiers. They asked Clarke what were his political views. He replied that he always had been a Union man—had voted the Union ticket, and would do it again, if another election were held; that he hated the secession principles, and would enlist in the Federal army as soon as he got his crop in such a condition that his family could attend to it. On hearing this statement, Bradfute became very angry, swearing that Clarke ought to be taken out and shot then, but that a few days’ respite would make but little difference. Said he, addressing the guards, had you hung Clarke, you would have saved us some trouble, and have done your country good service. The Colonel, turning round, glared upon me with eyes inflamed with passion and liquor, and thus addressed me:

“Are you a Union man too?”

“I am, sir. I have never denied it.”

“Where do you reside?”

“I consider Rienzi my home, but have been staying for some time at my father-in-law’s, in the south-eastern part of Tishomingo county.”

“What is your father-in-law’s name?”

“Mr. Alexander Paden.”

“I know the old gentleman and his three sons. They are all in the Confederate service. They are brave men, and have done some hard fighting in our cause. How happens it that you look at matters in a different light from your relatives?”

“I am not guided in my opinions by the views of my friends.”

“What is your profession?”

“I am a minister of the gospel.”

“I suppose, then, that you go to the Bible for your politics, and that you are a sort of higher-law man.”

“My Bible teaches, ‘Let every soul be subject to the higher powers, for there is no power but of God; the powers that be, are ordained of God. Whosoever, therefore, resisteth the power, resisteth the ordinance of God; and they that resist shall receive to themselves damnation.’ I have seen no reason for resistance to the government under which we have, as a nation, so long prospered.”

“I command you to hush, sir; you shan’t preach treason to me, and if you get your deserts you will be hung immediately. Have you ever been within the Federal lines?”

“I have, sir.”

“At what points?”

“At Rienzi and Iuka.”

“When were you at Iuka?”

“On last Saturday.”

“Had the Federals a large force at that place, and who was in command?”

“They have a large force, and Generals Thomas and Steadman are in command.”

“That is contrary to the reports of our scouts, who say that there are but two regiments in the town. I fear you are purposely trying to mislead us.”

“General Steadman has but two regiments in the town, but General Thomas is within striking distance with a large force.”

“What was your business in Iuka?”

“I went there to pay a debt of fifty dollars which a widow owed, as she wished it to be paid in Confederate money before it became worthless.”

“Have you a Federal pass?”

“I have none with me, but I have one at home.”

“How does it read?”

“It was given by General Nelson, and reads thus: ‘The bearer, Rev. John H. Aughey, has permission to pass backward and forward through the lines of this division at will.’”

“Where were you born?”

“I was born in New Hartford, Oneida county, New York.”

“Yankee born,” said the Colonel, with a sneer; “you deserve death at the rope’s-end, and if I had the power I would hang all Yankees who are among us, for they are all tories, whatever may be their pretensions.”

“My being born north of the nigger-line, Colonel, if a crime worthy of death, was certainly not my fault, but the fault of my parents. They did not so much as consult me in regard to any preference I might have concerning the place of my nativity.”

Woodruff, one of my guards, now informed the Colonel that I was a spy, and, while the Confederates were at Corinth, had, to his certain knowledge, been three times at Nashville, carrying information. I told Woodruff that his statement was false, and that he knew it; that I had never been at Nashville in my life. General Chalmers, who was present, and Colonel Bradfute, at the conclusion of the examination, spent fifteen or twenty minutes in bitterly cursing all Yankees, tories, and traitors, as they termed us. All the conversation of the rebel officers was interlarded with the most horrid profanity. General Chalmers, in speaking, invariably called me the clerical spy. We were placed under guard, and sent to Brooksville, ten miles distant, the head-quarters of General Pfeifer. Immediately after our arrival, we were soundly berated by General Pfeifer, and then sent out to the camp, half a mile from the town, where we were placed under guard for the night, in a small plot of ground surrounded by a chain. We had no supper, and no blankets to sleep on. Our bed was the cold ground, our covering the blue canopy of heaven. The next morning we were started, without breakfast, under a heavy guard, numbering fourteen cavalry, to Priceville, six miles west of Brooksville. Priceville was named in honour of General Sterling Price, or rather the little village where he encamped had its name changed in his honour. When we reached Priceville we were taken to the head-quarters of General Jordan, and immediately brought into his presence. After reading the letter handed to him by one of the guard, he said, looking sternly at me,

“You are charged with sedition.”

I asked him what sedition meant, to which he replied:

“It means enough to hang you, you villanous tory!”

He also asked me where I was born. My reply was, in the State of New York, near Utica, in Oneida county.

“Then you doubly deserve death,” said he.

“As to the guilt of my nativity,” said I, “it is not my fault, for I could not have helped it if I had tried. But I glory in my native State. She has never done anything to disgrace her. She never repudiated her just debts, nor committed any other disgraceful act.”

“Well, you ought to have staid there, or have gone back when Mississippi seceded.”

“Give me an opportunity, and I will go instanter.”

“The first going you will do, will be to go to hell, where, if the devil had his due, you would have been long ago; and before you leave us, we will give you a free ticket to the shades infernal.”

“Thank you for your kind offer to give me a free pass to the infernal regions. I did not know before that you were the devil’s ticket-agent. You have me in your power, and may destroy my life; but when you have done that, there is no more that you can do.”

Very little was said to my fellow-prisoner, Clarke. A few curses for a traitor, tory, &c., was about all. We were now placed under guard, and conducted to Tupelo, and after visiting the provost-marshal’s office and the office of the commander of the post, whose names were Peden and Clare, we were committed to the Central Military Prison. As we entered, Captain Bruce and Lieutenant Malone (two gentlemen who had been elected to those offices by their fellow-prisoners) received us with a cordial greeting. Captain Bruce thus addressed us:

“Welcome, gentlemen, thrice welcome. I am rejoiced to see you at my hotel. We are now doing a land-office business, as the large number of my boarders, whom you see, will testify. We have numerous arrivals daily, whilst the departures are very few, giving evidence that all are satisfied with their treatment. The bill of fare is not very extensive. In these war times we must not expect the luxuries of life, but be content with the necessaries. It is true, we cannot furnish you with coffee, or molasses, or sugar, or salt, or beef, or vegetables; but we have something more substantial—we have flour, rather dark in colour, to be sure, but people must not be squeamish. The boarders are required to do their own cooking, as they could otherwise have but little exercise; we consider it a sanitary measure, exercise being indispensable to health. We furnish the boarders, also, with meat—none of your lean meat, either, but fat middling, with a streak of lean in it. The Bible promises the righteous that their bread shall be given, and their water sure; but we go beyond the promise, and give not only bread (or rather the flour to make it) and water, but also fat, strong meat. What room will you be pleased to have?”

I replied, that as they seemed to be crowded, I would choose number 199.

“Well,” said the Captain, “it shall be prepared. Lieutenant Malone, have room number 199 fitted up for the reception of these gentlemen.”

Lieutenant Malone replied, that the room designated would be fitted up in style for our reception. He asked us if we had dined.

“No,” replied Clarke; “we have not tasted food since yesterday at noon, when the Parson paid for his own dinner and the dinner of the guards. We asked for something to eat, but were as often refused, and now we are in a starving condition.”

“I pity you,” said Malone, laying aside his facetious style; “you shall have something to eat as soon as it can be cooked.”

He then went to some of the prisoners, and set them to cooking, and we were soon furnished with the best repast the poor fellows could supply.

We entered the prison July 3d, 1862, at two o’clock, P. M. Our prison was a grocery-house, its dimensions about twenty-five by fifty feet. When we were incarcerated, there were about seventy prisoners in the building, whites, mulattoes and negroes. The prison was filthy in the extreme, and filled with vermin; even our food was infested with them. No brooms were furnished us, and we could not sweep the floor. No beds were furnished, and we were compelled to lie upon the floor, with no covering, and nothing but the hard planks beneath us.

Several times a day officers would come in and order a specified number of men to go and work, under a strong guard. We were made to clean the streets, roll barrels, and clean the hospital; but our own prison we were not permitted to clean. Every kind of drudgery, and the most menial services, were imposed upon us.

The crimes charged upon the prisoners were desertion, trading with the Yankees, adhesion to the United States government or Unionism, acting as spies, refusing Confederate bonds, and piloting the Yankees. The crime of the negroes and mulattoes was endeavouring to escape on the underground railroad from Dixie land and the Iron Furnace. These remained till their masters were informed of their arrest, and came for and released them. On the evening preceding our imprisonment, two prisoners had been led out and shot, and I soon learned that this was no unusual occurrence. Nearly every day witnessed the execution of one or more of us. Those who were doomed to die were heavily ironed. In some cases, however, those who were not in fetters were taken out and shot or hanged, often with no previous warning; though sometimes a few hours warning was given.

Our privations were so great from a want of proper food and water—for the scanty amount of water furnished us was tepid and foul—and from a lack of beds, cots, couches, or something better than a filthy floor whereon to sleep, that I resolved to attempt an escape at the risk of my life. I felt confident that I could not long survive such cruel treatment. As soon as my arrest was known to the thirty-second Mississippi regiment, encamped in the suburbs of Tupelo, the colonel, major, adjutant, and one of the captains called upon me. This regiment was raised in Tishomingo county, one of the companies, the Zollicoffer Avengers, being from Rienzi, where I had been for years proprietor and Principal of the Rienzi Female Seminary. The daughters of many of the officers of this regiment had been educated at this Seminary during my superintendence. Some of these officers had expressed themselves under great obligations to me, for the thorough, moral, mental, and physical training of their children while under my care. As proof of this, I have their own statements, as published in the public journals of the day. Owing me a debt of gratitude, as they professed, could I expect less than the manifestation of deep sympathy for me in my sad condition—confined in a gloomy dungeon, deprived of the comforts, yea, even the necessaries of life, menaced and insulted by the officers in whose power I was? Whatever may have been my hopes, they were doomed to be blasted. These summer friends, so obsequious in my prosperity, conversed for a while on indifferent topics, never alluding to my condition, and as I did not obtrude it upon their attention, they left, promising to call again. I said, “Do so, gentlemen; you will always find me at home.” Adjutant Irion, as he passed out, asked Lieutenant Malone what the charge was against me. Malone replied that I was charged with being a Union man. The adjutant said, in a bitter and sarcastic tone, that I should never have been brought to Tupelo, but on my arrest should have been sent to hell from the lowest limb of the nearest tree.

Having determined to escape at all hazards, I sought out an accomplice, a compagnon de voyage; that person was Richard Malone; his piercing eye, his intellectual physiognomy, led me to believe that if he consented to make the attempt with me, our chances for escape would be good. I drew Malone to one side, and covertly introduced the matter. He soon got my idea, and drawing from his pocket a paper, showed me the route mapped out which he intended to pursue, as he had for some days determined to escape, or die in the attempt. He was charged with being a spy, and there was little doubt that they would establish his guilt by false testimony. We went out now under every possible pretext. We no longer shunned the guard who came to obtain prisoners to do servile labour. Our object being to reconnoitre, in order to learn where guards were stationed, and to determine the best method of escape through the town after leaving the prison. During the day we made these observations: that there were two guards stationed at the back door, who were very verdant; that they would, after relief, come on duty again at midnight; that there was a building on the south side of the prison, extending beyond the prison and beyond the guards; that the moon would set about eleven o’clock, P. M.; that there were no guards stationed on the south side of the prison during the day; that one of the planks in the floor could be easily removed; and that there were several holes, when we were once under the floor, by which egress might be made either on the north or south side; that the coast was probably clearest in the direction of a corn-field some two hundred yards distant in a northwest direction.

At four o’clock P. M., our plan was fully matured. At midnight, (the moon being down, and the verdant guards on duty) we would raise the plank, get under the floor, and myself in the advance, make our exit through one of the holes on the south side of the jail, then crawl to the building, some fifteen feet distant, and continue crawling till we passed the guards; then rise and make our way as cautiously as possible, to a point in the corn-field, a short distance in the rear of a garment which was hanging upon the fence. The one who first arrived must await the other. A signal was agreed upon, to prevent mistake. If the guards ordered us to halt, we had resolved to risk their fire, our watchword being, Liberty or death!

About this time the prisoners chose me their chaplain by acclamation. During the day, we made known our intention of escaping to several fellow-prisoners, who promised us all the assistance in their power. All the prisoners who knew of the matter, earnestly desired our escape, and co-operated with us in effecting it. Clarke and Robinson begged us to take them along, averring there was no doubt that they would be shot. Malone told them that no more than two could go together; that if they wished to escape, they could make the attempt half an hour after us, which they agreed to. Clarke, however, came to me, and desired me to take him along, as he would rather go with us than with Robinson. He had a wife and five small children dependent on him for support, and if he perished, they must perish too. I consulted Malone, but he would not agree to have Clarke go with us. Three would be too many for safety, and he doubted whether Clarke had sufficient nerve to face the glittering bayonet, or tact enough to pass through the camps without detection. He might commit some blunder which would endanger our safety. I informed Clarke that the arrangement made, in which he and Robinson were to go together, must be adhered to. He begged me, by all that was sacred, to take him along. But Malone was inexorable, and I thought it best to acquiesce in his judgment.

Night drew on apace. Thick darkness gathered around us, and murky clouds covered the sky, as we sat down with the Federal prisoners to our scanty allowance. While partaking of our rude fare, Malone thus spoke:

“This day is the 4th of July, 1862, the anniversary of our patriot fathers’ declaration of independence of British tyranny and oppression. They had much to complain of. They suffered grievous wrongs and cruel bondage. But eighty-six years ago to-day they declared themselves to be a free and independent people, who would rather die than be again enslaved. Of what worth was their declaration if they had remained inactive? Supineness would not have saved them. But trusting in our God, who gives success to the righteous cause, they imperilled their lives, they hazarded their fortunes, and with untiring energy and sleepless vigilance they contested to the bitter end against all efforts to deprive them of their inalienable rights. Success crowned their efforts, and they rid themselves of tyrants’ chains. We (I allude to my friend, Parson Aughey, and myself,) degenerate sons of these noble sires, have suffered wrong, nay, gross outrage. Citizens of the sunny South, guilty of no offence whatever, not even of constructive crime, we are immured in a loathsome dungeon, deprived of the comforts of life, separated from our families, and suffered to have no communication with them; dragging out a miserable existence, which an ignominious death on the scaffold must soon end. We, therefore, John H. Aughey and Richard Malone, in view of these accumulated wrongs and outrages, solemnly swear before High Heaven, and in presence of these witnesses, that we will be free, or perish in the attempt. Appealing to the God of liberty, of truth, and of righteousness, for the rectitude of our motives and the justness of our cause, we commit ourselves into his hands, and implore his protection amid the dangers through which we are about to pass, and humbly pray that he will give us success, and restore us speedily to our families and friends, and to the enjoyment of our inalienable rights, life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”

Grasping the Lieutenant by the hand, I consented to this Declaration of Independence of rebel thraldom. We gave our respective addresses to our friends, who promised, that if they were ever liberated, and we were killed by the guards, they would write to our families, informing them of the manner of our death.

About ten o’clock, Malone raised the plank, and I went under to reconnoitre. I remained under the floor about ten minutes, having learned that there were no guards patroling the south side of the house, as we feared might be the case after night. We had learned, from observation, that there were none during the day. Just at the noon of night, we heard the relief called. Malone and I endeavoured to find the prisoners who were to raise the plank, but not being able readily to do so, we raised the plank ourselves, and both got under without difficulty. Malone getting under first, was, contrary to agreement, compelled to take the lead. As he was passing out, he made considerable noise. To warn him of the danger, I patted him on the back. Reaching back, he gave my hand a warm pressure, to assure me that all was right, and passed out. I followed, and reached the designated point in the corn-field in about half an hour, having to use the utmost precaution, and in some cases to pass the guards by crawling in a serpentine manner. When I arrived, I gave the preconcerted signal, but Malone was nowhere to be seen. I waited for him two hours at least, when I was compelled to seek my safety alone.

Not being able to meet with my friend, I regarded as a great misfortune, because, after reaching a point ten miles north of Tupelo, he would be familiar with the country. I had frequently passed through the town on the railroad, but knew nothing of the country through which I must travel. Somewhat depressed in spirits at the loss of my compagnon de voyage, I resolved to reach my family by the safest and most practicable route. Still in the midst of camps, I had considerable difficulty in making my way out of them. When I thought that this had been effected, I found that day was brightening in the east. Looking around for some place to hide, I soon found a dense, though small thicket, in which I secreted myself as covertly as possible. Having slept but little since my arrest, I endeavoured to compose myself to slumber, and partially succeded; but soon the noise and confusion of soldiers passing and re-passing near, awoke and alarmed me. I soon learned that I was near a camp, and that the soldiers had found a suitable place for bathing in a creek which ran within thirty yards of my place of concealment. There were two paths by which they reached the creek. On one, they passed within fifteen feet of me; on the other, within six or seven. About nine o’clock, I heard the booming of cannon all around me, proceeding from the different camps. The soldiers who passed me stated, in their conversation, that the cannon were firing in honour of a great victory obtained over General McClellan, in Virginia. According to their statement, his whole army, after a succession of losses, during eight days’ fighting, had been completely annihilated, and that Stonewall Jackson would be in Washington city before the close of the week.

The day passed slowly away. At one time two soldiers came within a few feet of me in search of blackberries, but passed out without detecting me. At another time two soldiers sat down to converse, so near that their lowest tones were distinctly audible. One informed the other that he had been in town in the morning, and had learned that the Clerical Spy, Parson Aughey, and a fellow by the name of Malone, had broke jail, but that they would soon be brought in, as a company of cavalry had been put on their track, with a pack of bloodhounds. Soon after this, one of them arose and struck a bush several times, which seemed to be but a very short distance above my head. I thought that he had discovered me, and was about to rise and run, when I heard him say to his companion, that he had attempted to kill a very large snake, which had escaped to the bushes. I began to feel somewhat uncomfortably situated when I learned that I was in close proximity to a large snake, though I would have preferred meeting with an anaconda, boa-constrictor, rattlesnake, or even the deadly cobra di capello, rather than with those vile secessionists thirsting for innocent blood.

I thought this 5th of July was the longest day I had ever known. The sun was so long in reaching the zenith, and so slow in passing down the steep ecliptic way to the occident. The twilight, too, seemed of endless duration. But as all long days have had an end, so had this. The stars came glittering one by one. I soon recognised that old staunch and immovable friend of all travellers on the underground railroad, the polar-star.

Rising from my lair, I was soon homeward bound, guided by the north-star and an oriental constellation. Plunging into a dense wood I found my rapid advance impeded by the undergrowth, and great difficulty in following my guiding stars, as the boughs of the great oaks rendered them invisible, or dimly seen. Fatigued, hungry, and sleepy, I at length lay down at the foot of a large swamp-oak tree, intending to take a nap, and then rise and pursue my journey. When I awoke the sun was just rising. I arose filled with regret for the time I had lost. Though somewhat refreshed by my sound sleep, yet I was very hungry and almost famished with thirst.

After travelling about half a mile I came to a small log-house on a road-side. Feeling sick and faint, I resolved to go to the house to obtain water, and, if I liked the appearance of the inmates, to reveal my condition and ask for aid. Upon reaching the house I met the proprietor, but did not like his physiognomy. He looked the villain; a sinister expression, a countenance revealing no intellectuality, except a sort of low cunning, bore testimony that it would be foolish to repose confidence in the possessor of such villanous looks. I asked for water, intending to drink and leave. He pointed to the bucket; I drank and bade him good morning, and turned to leave. I had proceeded but a few steps, when I was ordered, in a stentorian tone, to halt. On looking round, I saw a soldier within a few steps, presenting a double-barrelled gun; another soldier was standing near, heavily armed. I asked by what authority he halted me. To which he replied:

“I know you, sir; I have heard you preach frequently. You are Parson Aughey, and you were arrested and confined in prison at Tupelo. I was in Lowrey’s regiment yesterday, and learned that you had broken jail; and now, sir, you must return. My name is Dan Barnes. You may have heard of me.”

I had indeed heard of him. He had been guilty of robbing the United States mail, had fled to Napoleon or Helena, Arkansas, where he was arrested, brought back, and incarcerated in jail at Pontotoc, and confined there for nearly a year. As the evidence against him was positive, he would have been sent to the penitentiary; but, fortunately for him, at this juncture Mississippi seceded. There being then no United States officers to execute the laws, he was liberated, and soon after joined the army.

After breakfast, which I paid for, Barnes called me to one side, and told me that he felt sorry for me, and would afford me an opportunity of escaping, if I would pay him a reasonable sum. He had been in a tight place himself, and would have been glad had some friend been near to aid him. He named two hundred and forty dollars as the reasonable sum for permitting me to escape. After getting my money, their horses were saddled, and telling me he was playing-off on me, said I must go to General Jordan’s head-quarters at Priceville, to which place he and Huff, the proprietor of the log cabin, conducted me.

On my arrival, General Jordan ordered me to be put in irons, and placed under guard. I was taken to a blacksmith’s shop in the town, the General accompanying the guard, and heavy iron bands were put around my ankles, and connected by a chain. The bands were put on hot, and my boots were burnt in the operation. The blacksmith seemed averse to the order, and only obeyed it upon compulsion. The General stood by, and saw that it was well done. “Iron him securely—securely, sir,” was his oft repeated order. The ironing caused me much pain. My ankles were long discoloured from the effects of it.

“I was taken to a blacksmith’s shop, and heavy iron bands put around my ankles.” Page 104.

After my manacles were put on, I was taken back to Tupelo by Barnes and another guard. On my arrival, the commander of the post and the Provost Marshal were filled with joy. Barnes gave them the history of the arrest, stating that I had attempted to bribe him; that he listened to my proposition with indignation, and when he had got the money, performed what he regarded his duty. The commander replied that all the property of traitors was theirs, and that he did right in deceiving me, after accepting the bribe. He also recommended Barnes for promotion for his heroic and patriotic act in arresting me. (Perhaps it secured for him a captaincy.) The following colloquy now took place between the commander of the post, the Provost Marshal, and myself:

“Why did you attempt to leave us?”

“Because, sir, your prison was so filthy, and your fare so meagre and unwholesome, that I could not endure it long, and live.”

“Parson, you know the Bible says, the wicked flee when no man pursueth, but the righteous are as bold as a lion. You must have been guilty of crime, or you would not have tried to escape.”

“I may have been guilty of the offence charged against me, and yet innocent of real guilt.”

“You shall never be taken back to the prison you left, rest assured of that. Did any of the prisoners know of or aid you in your escape?”

“No, sir; none of them knew anything about it.”

“Are you telling the truth?”

“I am.”

“Where is Malone?”

“I never saw him after I left the building.”

“He cannot escape; the cavalry are after him, and he will be brought in soon, dead or alive.”

“Why did you attempt to bribe Barnes?”

“It was his own offer. I knew that his cupidity was great, and thought it no harm to accept his offer. If Barnes had his deserts, he would now be hard at work in the penitentiary.”

“Did the jury that tried him, acquit him?”

“No. The secession of Mississippi saved him. I refer you to Colonel Tison, who is in Tupelo, for the particulars. He being marshal of North Mississippi, arrested Barnes, and knows all about it. He found on his person the evidence of his guilt, the money and checks stolen when he robbed the mail.”

“Parson, you will not be immediately executed, but you will, without doubt, hang in a week or two, so that, if you have any word to send your family, you have permission to do so.”

“May I write a letter to my wife?”

“You may, and I will see that it is forwarded to her.”

I sat down and wrote a letter, a very common-place letter, to my wife, inserting, occasionally, a word in phonography, which, taken in connection, read thus: “If possible, inform General Rosecrans or Nelson of my arrest.” While inspecting the letter, Lieutenant Peden noticed the phonography, and asked me to read it. I read it thus: “My dear wife, I hope to be at home soon. Do not grieve.” This letter they never sent. It was merely an act of duplicity on their part, to obtain some concession, which might be used against me. The guard, receiving orders, now conducted me to a hotel, and placed me in a small room, two guards remaining inside, and two at the door outside, with orders to shoot me if I made the least attempt at escape. I remained in this room only a few hours, after which I was taken to my old prison. As I entered, my old friends, the prisoners, crowded around me, and Captain Bruce addressed me in his facetious manner. In prison, his wit had beguiled many a tedious hour. His humour was the pure Attic salt.

“Parson Aughey, you are welcome back to my house, though you have played us rather a scurvy trick in leaving without giving me the least inkling of the matter, or settling your bill.”

I replied: “Captain, it was hardly right; but I did not like your fare, and your beds were filled with vermin.”

“Well, you do not seem to have fared better since you left, for you have returned.”

“Captain, my return is the result of coercion. Some who oppose this principle when applied to themselves, have no scruples in enforcing it upon others.

“No rogue e’er felt the halter draw,
With good opinion of the law;”

is an old saw, and the truth of proverbs is seldom affected by time. I am your guest upon compulsion; but remember, I will leave you the first opportunity.”

Upon hearing this, an officer present swore that when I again left that building, it would be to cross the railroad, (the place of execution.)

The prisoners gathered around me, and I related to them my adventures. They then informed me of what had transpired during my absence. Clarke was taken out of prison to guide a cavalry company in search of me. Clarke informed me that they scoured the country, and then went to my father-in-law’s; and after searching the premises, returned, believing that I had gone due north towards Rienzi, in which direction another company had been despatched. On their return, Clarke was remanded to jail. At roll-call—seven o’clock, A. M., we were missed. The cavalry were immediately sent in pursuit. All the guards on duty during the night were put under arrest. Our method of escape was soon discovered, and the guards were released, as they were not at fault. A large number of spikes were hammered in the floor, the guards were doubled, and greater vigilance enjoined. The prisoners were questioned, strictly and individually, to learn whether any of them knew of our intention to escape, or had rendered us any assistance. They all positively denied any knowledge of the matter. They asked me whether I had given the officers any information about their knowledge of our designs, and coöperation in effecting them. I replied that I had positively denied that any except Malone and myself were privy to our plans.

I may state here that it is difficult to justify a falsehood. We ought to utter truth always, without exaggeration or prevarication, leaving consequences with God. We should do right without regard to results, for with consequences we have no business; but in this case the temptation to utter an untruth was great. These wicked men, thirsting for my blood, had no right to make me criminate myself or my coadjutors. It would have been wrong for me to give them the information they desired. Truth is too precious for a secessionist, thirsting for innocent blood. Had I refused to answer, they would have suspected that some of my fellow-prisoners aided us, and would have either forced me to tell who they were, or would have hanged me instantly for my refusal. If I had given information, and criminated those who had befriended us, they would have been severely punished, and I have been guilty of the basest ingratitude; I would have been shunned by the prisoners, and regarded as one of the meanest of men, one of the veriest wretches in existence; I could never again ask nor expect aid in a similar attempt to save myself from a violent death.

CHAPTER IV.

LIFE IN A DUNGEON.

Parson Aughey as Chaplain—Description of the Prisoners—Colonel Walter, the Judge Advocate—Charges and Specifications against Parson Aughey—A Citizen of the Confederate States—Execution of two Tennesseeans—Enlistment of Union Prisoners—Colonel Walter’s second visit—Day of Execution specified—Farewell Letter to my Wife—Parson Aughey’s Obituary penned by himself—Address to his Soul—The Soul’s Reply—Farewell Letter to his Parents—The Union Prisoners’ Petition to Hon. W. H. Seward—The two Prisoners and the Oath of Allegiance—Irish Stories.

I was remanded to jail on Sabbath, the 6th of July, 1862. On the day of my escape I had been elected chaplain. Captain Bruce asked permission for me to hold divine service, to which no special objection was made. I conducted the services as I would have done were I in my own pulpit. The best order was maintained by the prisoners, and a deep seriousness prevailed. The songs of Zion resounded through the prison-house, and a great concourse of soldiers assembled outside the guards in front of the door, causing considerable interruption by their noise and insulting language. Several officers, also, saw fit to come in and interrupt the services by conversing in a loud tone, and asking me how I liked my jewelry, referring to my fetters. The prisoners protested against their rude and ungentlemanly conduct, but with little effect. They sent a remonstrance to the commander of the post, but he treated it with silent contempt.

As the prisoners insisted upon it, I persisted in preaching, notwithstanding the persecutions endured, as long as I remained with them. We were a motley assemblage. Some were dressed in cloth of finest texture; others were clad in filthy rags. There were present the learned and the illiterate, the rowdy and the minister of the gospel, the holy and the profane, the saint and the sinner. All the Southern States, and every prominent religious denomination were represented. The youth in his nonage, and the gray-haired and very aged man were there. The superior and the subordinate were with us. The descendants of Shem, Ham, and Japheth, were here on the same common level, for in our prison were Afric’s dark-browed sons, the descendants of Pocahontas, and the pure Circassian. Death is said to be THE great leveller; the dungeon at Tupelo was a great leveller. A fellow-feeling made us wondrous kind; none shared his morsel alone, and a deep and abiding sympathy for each other’s woes pervaded every bosom. When our fellow-prisoners were called to die, and were led through us with pallid brows, and agony depicted on their countenances, our expressions of sorrow and commiseration were not loud (through fear) but deep.

On Monday morning an officer entered; my name was called, and I arose from the floor on which I had been reclining. I recognised him as my old friend, Colonel H. W. Walter, of Holly Springs, Mississippi. After the ordinary salutations, he informed me that he was Judge Advocate, and that my trial would take place in a few days, and inquired whether I wished to summon any witnesses. I gave him the names and residences of several witnesses, but he refused to send for them, upon the plea that they were too near the Federal lines, and their cavalry might be in danger of capture were they to proceed thither. I told him that the cavalry which went in pursuit of me had visited that locality. He then wished to know what I desired to prove by those witnesses. I replied that I wished to prove that the specifications in the charge of being a spy were false.

“Your own admissions are sufficient to cause you to lose your life,” said the Colonel, “and I will not send for those witnesses.”

I replied: “I know that I must die, and you need not go through the formality of a trial. If condemned as a spy, I must be hanged. I only wished the witnesses to prove that Woodruff is a man of no moral worth, that his testimony is false; that Barnes is a mail-robber, and that his testimony, therefore, should be rejected. Proving these facts, the other charges which I admit, will cause me to be shot. I hope I am prepared to die, but do not wish to die a dog’s death. Promise me that I shall be shot, and not hanged, and I will cavil no more.”

“Parson Aughey, your chances for living are very slender. The proof against you on both charges will be established; the testimony as to your guilt is positive, and spies are always hanged.”

He then stated the charges and specifications against me as follows:

First charge—Treason.

Specification 1st. That said Aughey stated to a member of Hill’s cavalry, that if McClellan were defeated, the North could raise a much larger army in a very short time; that the North would eventually conquer the South, and that he was a Union man—this for the purpose of giving aid and comfort to the enemy.

Specification 2d. That when said Aughey was requested to take the oath of allegiance to the Confederate States, he refused, giving as a reason, that England, France, and himself, had not yet recognised the Southern Confederacy, stating, also, that he had voluntarily taken the oath of allegiance to the United States Government, which he regarded as binding—this in North Mississippi.

Specification 3d. That said Aughey was acting as a Federal agent in the purchase of cotton, and had received from the United States Government a large amount of gold, to pay for the cotton purchased.

Second charge—Acting as a spy.

Specification 1st. That said Aughey, while a citizen of the Confederate States, repeatedly came into our lines for the purpose of obtaining information for the benefit of the enemy, and that he passed through the lines of the enemy at pleasure, holding an unlimited pass from General Nelson, granting that privilege—this in the vicinity of Corinth, Mississippi.

Witnesses, —— Wallace, Dan Barnes, Ferdinand Woodruff, —— Williams, David Huff.

I demanded a copy of the charges, which Colonel Walter promised to furnish.

About three o’clock in the afternoon, I went to a couple of prisoners who were heavily ironed; they were handcuffed, had a chain on their legs similar to mine, and were chained together to a post, or to some fixture at the side of the jail. I inquired for what offence they were incarcerated.

The prisoner whom I addressed was a tall gentleman, with a very intellectual countenance, and of prepossessing manners. He was somewhat pale, and wore a sad countenance. He replied:

“We are charged with desertion.”

“Did you desert?”

“I enlisted in the Confederate service for twelve months. At the expiration of my term of service, I asked permission to return home, stating that my family were suffering for the necessaries of life; that they lived in Tennessee, which is occupied by Federal troops. Confederate bonds are there not worth the paper on which they are printed; provisions are scarce, and my family have not the means of purchasing. I wish to relieve their wants, and as my term of service has expired, I wish a discharge. This they refused, stating that the Confederate Congress had passed a law requiring all troops who had enlisted for any term, however short, to be held to service during the war, and all who left before that time would be considered guilty of desertion, and if arrested, would be shot. I attempted to return to my family, regarding the law a tyrannical enactment. I was arrested and committed to this prison.”

“What will be your fate?”

“I know not, but fear the worst.”

I learned that the other prisoner had about the same statement to make, and was also in dread of capital punishment. I left them and walked to the opposite side of the prison, when I observed a file of soldiers drawn up in front of the building. Two officers entered, and walking up to the two prisoners whom I had just left, unfastened their chains, and ordered them to follow. One of the prisoners asked whether he should bring his blanket. “No,” replied the officer, in a jocular tone; “you have no more need for a blanket in this world.”

On reaching the door, the soldiers separated, received the prisoners in their midst, closed up, and marching them across the railroad, shot them. As the officers passed Captain Bruce, he asked where the prisoners were going. They replied, “Going to be shot!” and showed him the warrant for their execution, having written across it, in red letters, “Condemned to death!”

Thus was perpetrated an act of cruel tyranny, which cries loudly to Heaven for vengeance. Two families, helpless and destitute, were thus each deprived of its head, on whom they were dependent for support, and abandoned to the cold charity of a selfish world. The wages they earned by a year’s faithful service in behalf of the wicked, cruel, and vindictive Confederate States, was an ignominious death and a dishonoured grave. Will not God visit for this? The widow and the fatherless cry to Heaven for vengeance, and their cries have entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth.

On Tuesday morning, six young men, who had been arrested for their Union sentiments, resolved to escape. Their plan was to enlist in the Confederate service, then to desert on the first opportunity, and make their way to the Federal lines. They consulted me as to the propriety of taking the oath of allegiance under these circumstances. Such a step would give them another chance for life; but were they to profess adherence to their Union principles, they had no hope of living many days. If permitted to enlist, they thought there was little doubt of their escape in a few days; and should a battle take place, no Federal soldiers would be injured by them, and an opportunity to desert might occur during the engagement. I drew up a paper for them, requesting permission to enlist in a company which they specified. Their petition was granted by the authorities, and they were removed from prison to the camp. I feel confident that ere this, they are safe in the Federal lines, for they knew the whole country, so as to be able to travel by night or by day, with little danger of detection. They had all been arrested at their homes by the Rebel cavalry. They were bitter in sentiment against the military usurpation, self-styled the Confederate States of America.

This (Tuesday) evening, Colonel Walter called again, to give me a copy of the charges against me. He informed me that my trial had been deferred till Monday, the 15th inst. He also informed me in advance, that I must die, and that, doubtless, on the day after the trial. I asked and obtained permission to send for the Rev. Dr. Lyon, of Columbus, Mississippi, to be present at my execution. Dr. Lyon and I were co-presbyters, both being members of the Tombeckbee Presbytery. Colonel Walter was a renegade Yankee. Coming from Michigan to Mississippi, he married the daughter of a wealthy slave-holder. Obtaining through her the control of a large number of slaves, he became a very ultra advocate of the peculiar institution, and a rabid secessionist.

Soon after Colonel Walter left, Colonel Ware came in, and asked me if I had been President of a Female College in Rienzi. I replied in the affirmative. ’Tis strange, said he, that one who has been so favoured, and one who has accumulated property in the South, should prove a traitor to the land of his adoption, and side with his enemies. I replied that I had given a fair equivalent for every dollar I had obtained from the citizens of the South; that for eleven years I had laboured faithfully as a teacher and minister of the gospel to promote the educational and spiritual interests of the Southern people; and that now I was receiving my reward in being chained, starved, and insulted; and that they intended soon to pay the last instalment by putting me to death ignominiously on the scaffold; I also denied being an enemy to the South. I regarded those who imperilled all her best interests, and plunged her into a protracted and desolating war, as the real enemies of the South. If my advice had been followed, the South and the whole country would now be enjoying its wonted peace and prosperity. He only replied with cursing and vituperation.

Believing my end to be near, I sat down upon the floor of my dungeon, and penned the following letter to my wife.

Tupelo Military Dungeon, July 10th, 1862.

My Dear Mary—The Confederate authorities announce to me that I have only a few more days to live. When you receive this letter, the hand that penned it will be cold in death. My soul will have passed the solemn test before the bar of God; I have a good hope through grace that I will be then rejoicing amid the sacramental host of God’s elect, singing the new song of redeeming love in the presence of Him who is the Chief among ten thousand, and the one altogether lovely. Mary, meet me in heaven, where sorrow, and crying, and sin are not known, and where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest. I will request your brother Ramsey, and cousin, Captain Tankersley, to convey my body to you. Bury me in the graveyard at Bethany. Plant an evergreen—a cedar—at my head, and one at my feet, and there let me repose in peace, till the Archangel’s trump shall sound, calling the dead to the judgment of the great day, and vouchsafing to saints the long wished-for “redemption of the body.”

As to my property, it has all been confiscated; and after years of incessant toil, I leave you penniless and dependent; but trust in God. To his protecting care I commit you and our dear little Kate, who has promised that he will be the widow’s husband, and the father of the fatherless. Rest assured, the Lord will provide. Only trust in him, and love him with your whole heart, and soul, and mind, and strength. “I know that it shall be well with those that love God.” Be not faithless, but believing, and though clouds and thick darkness surround you at present, a more auspicious day will dawn, and God will bring you safely to your journey’s end, and our reunion in heaven will be sweet.

Our dear little daughter, Kate, bring up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. Teach her to walk in wisdom’s ways, for her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace. Her mind may be compared to wax, in its susceptibility for receiving impressions, and to marble, for its power of retaining those impressions. O that she may be satisfied early with the mercy of God, that she may rejoice and be glad all her days! Teach her to remember her Creator in the days of her youth, before the evil days come, in which she shall say, I have no pleasure in thee. Make the Bible her constant study, and let its words be as household words to her. Inspire her mind with a reverence for the Book which is able to make wise unto salvation. See to it that the words of Christ dwell richly in her soul, that she may be filled with wisdom, and knowledge, and spiritual understanding. Pray for the Holy Spirit to bless your labours and instructions, without which all your efforts would be in vain, and pray that the Third Person of the adorable Trinity may take up his abode in her heart, and dwell with her for ever.

As my duties in regard to instructing our child, will devolve solely on you, take for your guidance, in this respect, Deut. vi. 5-9. Let your example be such as you would wish her to follow. Children are much more inclined to follow example than precept. Exercise care in this respect, for, “as is the mother, so is her daughter.”

I regret my family will, from the force of circumstances, be compelled to remain in a land where my death will be considered disgraceful, but it cannot be avoided. The time may come when, even in Mississippi, I may be regarded as a patriot martyr. My conscience is void of offence, as regards the guilt attached to the charges made against me. I am charged with treason against the Confederate States. The charge and the specifications are true, except that I was not a Federal agent in the purchase of cotton. That was a private arrangement altogether. I am also charged with acting as a spy. The specifications under this charge are false. I think that this accusation was made to prevent retaliation by the Federal generals; and in the Rebel army they are not at a loss to prove any charge, however false. Ferdinand Woodruff is their tool to prove me a spy, and he will do it, though he knows his testimony to be as false as that of the suborned witnesses who bore testimony against the Saviour.

How long shall the wicked triumph? How long will God forbear to execute that vengeance which is his, and which he will repay sooner or later! I feel confident that the right cause will prevail, and though I will not live to see it, for my days are numbered, yet I firmly believe that the rebel power will be destroyed utterly.

“Truth, crushed to earth, will rise again;
The eternal years of God are hers;
But error, wounded, writhes in pain,
And dies amid her worshippers.”

I write this letter amid the din and confusion incident to a large number of men crowded into a narrow compass, and free from all restraint. This letter will be transmitted to you by friends. The names of those friends you will know hereafter. They will present your case to General Rosecrans or Nelson, who may obtain a pension for you. My services heretofore in the Union cause are known to them, and I think they will see that you do not suffer; all my real estate will be restored to you if the Union cause triumphs, and I think there is no doubt as to its success. Give my love to all my friends. Remember that I have prayed for you unceasingly during my imprisonment, and my last utterances on earth will be prayers for your welfare.

Farewell. God bless you, and preserve you and our dear little Kate.

Your affectionate husband,

John H. Aughey.

I next wrote my obituary, which I placed in the hands of a Union soldier who expected soon to be exchanged. By him it was to be sent to the editors of The Presbyterian, published in Philadelphia, with a request that it should appear in their columns.

OBITUARY.

Died, in Tupelo, Ittawamba county, Mississippi, July —, 1862, the Rev. John H. Aughey. The subject of the above notice was executed on the gallows, by authority of the Confederate States, on the charges of treason and acting as a spy.