Jackson County, Georgia - Chapter 1 (4 of 4 so headed), 1914

Soon after the skirmish between the Confederate and the Federal forces at Bridgeport, Tenn., in the early spring of 1862, both parties began to move up the Tennessee river, the former occupying its eastern and the latter its western bank. A little before reaching Long Island, which is a few hours march below Chattanooga, they halted within view of each other, and for several days something like peaceful relations seemed to exist between them. Firing across the river ceased, and sometimes the blue and the gray exchanged coffee and tobacco on one or the other of its banks.

Suddenly, however, a Federal regiment moved north and spread its tents on an open plain several hundred yards below the point where the river divides in about equal portions at the island. Thus the distance between the opposing forces was increased by the breadth of the island, which was here about the fourth of a mile, and by a narrow swamp which intervened between the river and the Federal camp.

Hitherto neither party had attempted to occupy the island, but as this latter movement of the enemy somewhat puzzled the Confederates, they decided to investigate the matter, without, however, any hostile intention.

Accordingly on the morning of the 10th day of June a detachment consisting of sixty picked men under the command of Capt. J. T. Atwater, crossed the eastern branch of the river, and quietly took possession of that part of the island which was supposed to be opposite the enemy's camp. The dense growth on the intervening swamp cut off all signs of their presence, and if

*Thi8 beautiful little story has little or no connection with the early history of Jackson County; but it is here inserted because the Editor feels that the reader will appreciate and enjoy it.

any pickets occupied its margins they were not seen. Two small log houses stood near their landing, and though corn and potatoes grew near them, they were unoccupied. Most of the ground was covered by large trees on whose ponderous limbs squirrels were playing and amid whose dense foliage birds were singing their morning madrigals.

After becoming familiar with his surroundings Capt. Atwater proceeded, about dark, to establish a line of picket posts along something less than half a mile of the western boundary of the island. Near the river, and a little below what was thought to be about the center of the Federal camp, stood a huge sycamore tree which the corporal of the guard designated as Post No. 1. To this he assigned Jim Warren, a tall, muscular and brave Confederate in the flush of young manhood's prime. Though he knew there were not men enough on the island to relieve him during the night, his task was comparatively easy because, for an unknown distance below, the river-bank was too steep and rugged to require much attention.

When an hour and more had passed the impressive silence was suddenly broken by a shout beyond the swamp : ' ' Wake up, Johnny Reb, will you sleep all night?"

The words came in such clear and distinct tones they seemed almost to walk through the still night air. Evidently the shout was "a feeler" to ascertain if the island was occupied by Confederates. It was so regarded, and the solitary picket remained silent and was bothered - bothered because he had certainly heard that voice before, but when and where he could not think.

Hitherto he had stood as motionless as the great tree itself; but now he became restless and longed to take a stroll among the great trees around him, and in their solitude possibly call to mind by whom the clean cut words just heard were probably spoken.

But Jim Warren was too brave to leave his post for any selfish purpose, and noticing that the fog over the river began to emit enough light to enable him to dimly see the outline of objects near the bank, he assumed a less conspicious position by reclining on the sand at his feet. While still trying to solve the mystery connected with the seemingly familiar voice he was suddenly brought to a sitting posture by hearing a distinct ripple in the water below, the point from which he least expected any one to come. To his amazement the ghostly light had increased enough to enable him to see a large tree which had fallen into the water seven or eight feet below him. While merely glancing at this another ripple, more distinct than before, reached his wide-open ears. He cautiously crawled nearer the water and soon he discovered a small canoe coming towards him. It was hugging the bank closely, and contained, as well as he could see, one person. Cautiously it glided on until it touched the fallen tree lightly. Quick as thought almost its solitary occupant stepped upon the prostrate tree and listened intently. Had a thunderbolt come crashing from the cloudless sky Jim Warren could not have been more astonished. A woman was standing on the log! She was of small size, and her movements indicated prompt action and wonderful agility. Having stood motionless for a short time, she suddenly turned, and going towards the top of the tree, towed the boat beyond the picket 's view.

Instead of going around the tree as he expected, she presently came running back along the log with perfect ease, and leaping on the clayroot turned up by the tree, at a single bound, she flitted by him like a shadow and disappeared in the great sycamore tree, which, for that night, at least, the disconcerted soldier had exclusively claimed as his own.

Though not superstitious above educated men in general, Jim more than half believed that he had seen a very ghost. The form as seen in the half-illuminating fog; the ease and speed with which the log was followed; the airy leap made to reach the top of the clay-root ; the ethereal form with seeming wings that passed by him, and the sudden disappearance into what he thought Avas a solid tree, staggered all belief in any flesh-and-blood theory that the mystified soldier could imagine.

To a brave man the thought that his post was in the possession of another being of some kind was extremely humiliating ; and tothis day Jim Warren has never been able to say what he would

He was considering the propriety of calling for help by means of a pre-arranged signal ; but before deciding the matter, another movement in the water below attracted his attention. It was not like the soft ripple first heard, but evidently the strong stroke of a rapidly dipping oar. Nearer and more audible it came until a boat - such as fishermen sometimes use on the western rivers - swiftly came in sight. Two men were in it, the one in the stern was rowing as if for life. Suddenly, and with what seemed to be increased power, the boat struck the prostrate tree with such force that both men were thrown from their seats.

"I hardly know," said the first speaker, rubbing his bruised hands. "She," he continued after rubbing and grunting awhile, "has not come this far up the river." "I tole yer, boss, she done go down de riber." "No, Tom said she came up it, and he knows. But if she had come this far this log would have stopped her like it has us ; and to go around it would have carried her too near our boys on the other side. Col. Cummins' regiment is about opposite this point and his Bay State boys would shoot at the devil himself."

"So de game done played, am it, boss?" again asked the other. "No," was the snarling reply, "No, not by a long shot. Sure as I am Captain Phil Dimple, I'll yet have the Rebel Girl, as they love to call her, for my wife. In such times as these she'll soon learn to love me. But before we go further I want you to again swear that you'll be true to the trust I've already placed in your keeping."

think that her intention is to strike across the country to Whitesides where she has an uncle living. The route she is most likely to take lies a little above this island ; and if she ran under some bank, as I think she did, to avoid being overtaken, she'll shoot up stream like an arrow and must of necessity come to this log. I'll conceal myself and be ready to keep her from falling into the water when she strikes it.

"Now, Joe," the miserable man continued, "I want you to go down the river to the bluff where we left Tom. I'll arrange my blanket to look like a man in the dark, so that when you pass her hiding place she'll think we are both returning. To allow her good time to reach here remain at the bluff about an hour and come back here within less than two hours, if possible. If you find Tom bring him with you. If necessary to use them don't forget that the pass word is 'Mitchell,' and the countersign 'Shell Moina.' Do you understand me this time?"

The blanket was arranged to look something like a man in a stooping posture, and the boat, apparently carrying two men, soon disappeared in the midnight darkness.

And now came the supreme moment. Something like small pebbles were heard falling in the water. The Captain was evidently climbing the bank. Not wishing to make any noise the picket shifted his gun to the left and drew a long knife from his belt. Presently a figure as if coming out of the earth stood bolt upright near a small tree behind which Jim Warren was standing.

Perhaps the astonished man did not see the drawn knife, but the gun on the left only. At any rate he was very quick to draw a side weapon, and when almost ready to pull on his assailant, the long knife was driven to the hift in his breast.

To the solitary picket, surrounded by the thickening events of the night, and by nature devoted to all the endearments of peace and good will to men, the time was a trying one.