A Pass for a Rebel?

Alexander McCook, courtesy civilwar.org

 
This story comes from The Civil War in Song and Story 1860-1865, collected and arranged by Frank Moore, pages 70 and 71.

The following incident illustrates the character of the secessionists, and the vigorous policy pursued by General McCook in Kentucky:

A man named Buz Rowe, living near Bacon Creek, was early afflicted with the secession fever, and when the rebels occupied that portion of Kentucky, the sickness assumed a malignant form. It was his practice to lie around a tavern at Bacon Creek Station, drink whiskey, swagger, blow about Southern rights, and insult Union men. When the Union troops advanced to Nevie, and the rebels fell back to Green River, Buz changed his tune. He was not disposed to take up arms in behalf of the cause he represented. In fact, to secure peace and safety at home, he expressed his willingness to "take the oath."

On being lectured by Union men, he stated that he was only going through the form to prevent being troubled at home, and that when he could do good for the rebel cause, he would not regard the obligation in the least. it was some time before Bus could get a Union man to  go to the camp with him; but finally, in company with such, he called on General McCook, and asked for the privilege of taking the oath and obtaining a pass. The General knew his man, and addressing the Union man who accompanied him, said:

"Administer the oath to him- a ready traitor to his country! What regard do you suppose he would have for the solemn obligations of an oath? A man, sir, would would betray his country has no respect for his oath."

Buz turned pale. The truth cut him deep, and he began to see that his time had come.

The General absolutely refused to have the oath administered, or to grant a pass. he could not get out of camp without some sort of a document, and he had besought the int4erference of those whom he had so greatly abused when they were without protection. At last, General McCook agreed to pass him out of camp, and gave him a document which read something in this way:

"To the guards and pickets:

The bearer is a traitor to his country. Pass him; but, in doing so, mark him well, and if you see him hereafter prowling about our lines, shoot him at once.

This pass the brawling rebel had to show to the whole line of guards and pickets, who all marked him well before they let him pass. 

The Rebel Retreat from Mill Spring, January 1862

From The Civil War in Song and Story 1860-1865, collected and arranged by Frank Moore page 69. This link shows that the story came from the New York Times of March 2, 1862.

Here is a summary of the Battle of Mill Spring of January 19, 1862 in southern Kentucky

The Rebel Retreat from Mill Spring
In the course of a notice of Capt. C.C. Spiller, the following particulars of the rebel retreat from Mill Spring occur:


The Noble Ellis was at Gainsboro; three ineffectual attempts had been made to take her up the river to where our army was. Finally Capt. Spiller was ordered to bring the boat; it was executed. Before the fight, he asked permission to lead his company; but Gen. Zollicoffer ordered him to remain at the river, in charge of operations there. The battle was fought, and our army driven back to the river, where a successful and skilful crossing alone could have saved it from utter ruin. Spiller was the man for the post - the world could not have furnished a better.


The crossing began at three o'clock P.M. One of the enemy's batteries opened on the boat, and the fire was incessant until dark. The steamer was run all night. At four o'clock in the morning, when two thousand five hundred men were yet to cross, the captain and pilot left. It was understood that the engineer would leave her the next trip, and Spiller sent for Dick Fields, then one of his cavalry company, but formerly an engineer on one of his Tennessee river boats. Spiller knew Dick - together they had braved danger before that on the water. Sure enough, the engineer and deck-hands quit the boat, Dick took his place, and the boat was manned from the company. At daylight the work was done, and the last man was over.


During the night the enemy had placed a Parrott gun in position, and at the earliest dawn the firing began. The first shell fell short but a few yards; the third passed through the chimney, and exploded over the wheel, scattering its fragments in every direction. Now that the troops were over, and all the horses that could be saved were saved, the torch was applied to the Noble Ellis. Spiller's company were near by; they had bee ordered to fall back out of range of the enemy's fire, but they would not; their captain, whom the loved, was at his post, and they would not leave him. As the flames spread over the boat, and told that the army had crossed, and that all chance of pursuit were gone, the gallant Spiller, at the head of his troops, moved away to aid the retreating forces. But three of his men left him.

An Elegy

From The Civil War in Song and Story 1860-1865, collected and arranged by Frank Moore, page 69

An Elegy - The following lines were written by a soldier in the hospital at New Haven, Conn., who lost his leg in the battle of Fair Oaks:


Good leg, thou wast a faithful friend,
And truly hast thy duty done;
I thank thee most that to the end,
Thou didst not let this body run.


Strange paradox that in the fight
Where I of thee was thus bereft,
I lost my left leg for "the Right,"
And yet the right's the one that's left!


But while the sturdy stump remains,
I may be able yet to patch it,
For even now I've taken pains
To make an L-E-G to match it.

Is that Mother?

From The Civil War in Song and Story 1860-1865, collected and arranged by Frank Moore page 66

Is that mother bending o'er me
As she sang my cradle hymn -
Knelling there in tears before me?
Say? - my sight is growing dim.

Comes she from the old home lowly,
Out among the northern hills,
Tis her pet boy dying slowly
Of war's battle wounds and ills?

Mother! O, we bravely battled - 
Battled till the day was done;'
While the leaden hail storm r1ttled- 
Man to man and gun to gun.


But we failed - and I'm dying - 
Dying in my boyhood's years,
There - no weeping - self- denying,
Noble deaths demand no tears.


Fold your arms again around me;
Press again my aching head;
Sing the lullaby you sung me - 
Kiss me, mother, ere I'm dead