Quantrill's Raiders

HARPER'S WEEKLY.

[SEPTEMBER 27, 1862.

618

A GUERRILLA RAID IN THE
WEST.

WE publish on pages 616 and 617 a large illustration of a GUERRILLA RAID IN THE WEST, in order that our readers may understand the sort of war which the rebels are waging. John Morgan, the highwayman of Kentucky, boasts of his success in this style of warfare. By way of confirming the truthfulness of our artist's picture, we subjoin a few extracts culled from recent papers:

Clouds and darkness are gathering and thickening around the counties of Southern Kentucky. Terror and alarm prevail among the people. Society is torn to pieces, while order and civil law are dead letters. Guerrillas scout the country, and men are shot down in the streets of the towns. Horses are taken from wagons, travelers are left on foot in the road, houses are pillaged, and families driven to the woods for shelter. George B. Blakey and Captain Morrow came in here from Russellville to-day. The former came to beseech reinforcements for the protection of himself, his friends, and neighbors; the latter for the safety of his life, which was threatened, and of which he came near being deprived in a recent attack upon him by the miscreant rebels of his town. Russellville is twenty-eight miles south of this point, and immediately on the Memphis and Clarksville Railroad. Mr. Blakey says the few Union citizens of the place suffer every conceivable indignity, and they lie down at night, not to sleep, but to remain in defenseless terror until the dawn. An attack is apprehended upon Russellville, and the greatest alarm prevailed, as the small force stationed there is insufficient to hold out against a combined attack of the guerrillas.

Every day new barbarities perpetrated by the rebels come to light. This week two soldiers who had straggled from the ranks on the march from — were found, it is reported on credible authority, by the roadside with their throats cut from ear to ear.

Here the rebels were guilty of barbarous atrocities. Many of the dead had their throats cut, and presented a horrible spectacle. One man was brought in who had had his eyes picked out by their bayonets. In short, they evinced the most unrelenting fury on finding this way of retreat cut off to them.

Numbers of our men were found with their throats cut, and some had their eyes picked out. One was found tied to a tree. But enough of these horrors—I must conclude.

To what depths of inhuman wickedness men, or fiends, can descend! Prisoners taken by the rebels were afterward deliberately murdered, and the fingers of our dead cut off to secure rings. We grow wiser every day.

The main bodies of the guerrillas (in Missouri) are north and west of us. You hear through the papers of the principal skirmishes taking place daily, but there are hundreds of cases of individual assassination that never will be known outside their immediate neighborhood. I can count six cases in this county during the last week, and this is considered one of the most civil counties in the State.

Fifty of Morgan's men went to Scottsville on Monday, made several arrests, and carried off a large quantity of goods from several stores, leaving that afternoon, and promising to return that night with the whole force. There is great excitement at Glasgow.

The rules of war are entirely ignored by the guerrillas, and their men are made enthusiastic demons by the promises of plunder, a chance to murder the hated Yankees with impunity, and of larger liberty to gratify their fiendish hate whenever they enter the free States, which they are confident of doing at a very early day. The guerrilla system of warfare has always heretofore been ignored by every civilized people—not alone for its barbarity, but because, as a military agency, it was almost useless.

The barbarities in respect to our dead are not exceeded by any thing in the history of the last four thousand years, the details being savage practices.

One man says: They kept bayoneting me until I received fourteen wounds. One then left me, the other remaining over me, when a Union soldier coming up shot him in the breast, and he fell dead. I lay on the ground until ten o'clock next day.

The fellow at first made no reply, but, stooping down, seized the dead man by the hair and dragged him partially out of his grave, in order to get at the buttons on his clothes for trophies.

Another saw the brains of the wounded being beaten out by clubs, thus confirming the previous newspaper reports.

About one o'clock Sunday morning, the 7th inst., Quantrell, with two hundred and thirty men, dashed into and took possession of Olathe, the county seat of Johnson County, Kansas. From that time until he left, at an early hour in the morning, he and his men were engaged in the work of murder, plunder, and devastation.

Mr. Skinner and Mr. Wiggins, both recruits, were killed for making resistance. Mr. Blanchard, of Spring Hill, was also killed. They took fifty horses and mules, attached them to the best wagons they could find, and loaded them with goods seized from the stores. Private houses were entered, furniture broken, blankets stolen, and doors and windows beaten down. A Union flag suspended over the recruiting-office of Captain Hayes was torn to shreds and trampled in the dust by these mad assailants.

Quantrell said when he left that he was going to Paola, and that he should not rest until he had laid the border in ruin.

THE INVASION OF MARYLAND.

ON page 613 we publish an illustration of THE REBELS CROSSING ONE OF THE FORDS OF THE UPPER POTOMAC for the invasion of Maryland; on page 620 a view of the CITY OF FREDERICK, which they occupied at once, but which we have since retaken; on page 621 a view of HAGERSTOWN, MARYLAND, which they occupied on 10th; and on page 614 a large and elaborate Map of the SEAT OF WAR.

The rebels appear to have begun their crossing on 4th, and to have thrown bodies of men steadily forward ever since. The artillery crossed on a pontoon bridge, the cavalry and infantry forded the stream, the water being knee and thigh deep. A person who watched them cross said of them:

The rebels are wretchedly clad, and generally destitute of shoes. The cavalry men are mostly barefooted, and the feet of the infantry are bound up in rags and pieces of rawhide. Their uniforms are in tatters, and many are without hats or caps. They are very sanguine of success, and say that when they get to Baltimore they will get every thing they need. They have very few tents, the men mostly, when encamped, sleeping on the bare ground.

Frederick is a very handsome little town of some 6000 inhabitants, built on a creek running into the Monocacy. Market Street, which occupies the centre of our picture, is the principal thoroughfare, and is usually a scene of great activity, as Frederick is a lively place. The correspondent of the Baltimore

American thus described the entrance of the rebels into Frederick:

They made their appearance in the city about 10 o'clock in the morning, and marched in quietly, evidently having full knowledge that there was no opposition to be made to them. The force was halted on Market Street, and a proclamation issued to the people.

The foraging parties sent out in various directions to secure cattle, returned during the evening with droves of sheep, hogs, beeves, cows, and horses. They seized every thing they wanted, and are said to have tendered payment in Federal "green backs," whether counterfeit or good, is not known. These cattle were all driven toward the Potomac. The purchases made in Frederick are said to have been paid for partly in Federal money, but mostly in Virginia and South Carolina money.

A rebel Provost Marshal was appointed, with a strong guard, to preserve order, and during the afternoon the streets were thronged with rebel soldiers visiting the stores —which the Provost Marshal ordered to be opened—and purchasing shoes and clothing, of which they were in great want. So far as we could learn, strict order was preserved. One of our informants states that a meeting of the citizens was called on Saturday evening, at which an address was delivered by Bradley Johnson, who used the most conciliatory language, and made great predictions as to the power of the rebel army not only to hold Western Maryland, but to capture Baltimore and Washington, and dictate terms of peace in Independence Square at Philadelphia. The rebel sympathizers generally attended the meeting, but the few Union men who had remained kept to their homes. At 10 o'clock at night the men were all ordered to their camps on the outskirts of the city, and the first day of rebel rule in Frederick passed off quietly and peacefully.

The Federal flag was lowered from all the poles in Frederick, and the rebel "stars and bars" hoisted in their place. Most of the officers were quartered at the hotels and at the houses of prominent rebels, though a good many of the latter had also fled the city.

Hagerstown, which was entered by the rebels under Jackson on 10th, is a city of about 4500 inhabitants, contains seven churches and three banks, and is the depot for an extensive grain-growing country. Its site is very beautiful, being in the heart of the Cumberland Valley. On either side run the North and South Mountains, about twenty-five miles apart, and along the eastern limits of the place courses a charming rivulet, the Antietam. Washington County, of which Hagerstown is the chief mart, was organized in 1776. Elizabethtown was the name given to the original settlement; but this was changed to its present title by act of Legislature about the year 1813, out of compliment to Christian Hager, a prominent citizen. A corporation charter was also obtained at the same time, and a Moderator and Commissioners formed the officers of the city government. A new charter in 1846 provided for the election of a Mayor and Common Council.

Many delightful drives are to be found around the city, and many elegant residences. Among the more prominent public buildings depicted in our sketch are the Lutheran and Dutch Reformed churches, the Market, and the Washington House. The latter is a surprisingly fine hotel for so small a place, being large, handsome, and well kept. An unwonted prominence was last year given to Hagerstown by reason of its being selected as the head-quarters of the "Military Department of Pennsylvania," over which Major-General Patterson presided.

The Map will be better understood by reference to the following topographical sketch:

Sugar-loaf Mountain—which our own signal corps had held but a few days ago, and upon which a signal station had been established during all the last year while General Banks was upon the Upper Potomac—is now held by the rebels and devoted to the same very important use. [It has again been seized by General McClellan since this was written.—Ed. H. W.] From the point at which I am now writing the mountain can be distinctly seen across the valley which spreads out before us. By the aid of a glass we can plainly distinguish the rebels upon its summit, and the very impudent confederate flag, of a size not less than a barn door (somewhat indefinite), which floats upon the breeze near by them.

This mountain is only twelve miles distant in an air line; so it may be seen that we are attaining to a position somewhat nearer to the rebels than we were.

From Darnestown as far northward as Sugar-loaf Mountain the country is slightly rolling. Beyond the Sugar-loaf, toward Frederick and northward, the country is more level and not so well adapted to the sort of fighting and manoeuvring in which the rebels have been so often successful. I only ask, if we are to have a fight in that vicinity, our men may have a chance to show the stuff they are made of in a fair field fight. In that case. I should feel safe in predicting that the rebels would regret that they had not staid at home.

There is the old National road which runs from Washington to Frederick, passing through Rockville. The distance from Rockville to Frederick over this road is 28 miles. It is the old mail route, and a good one for an army. From Rockville there is another road which passes through Darnestown and Poolesville, running nearly parallel with the Potomac, and still another road, with the same general direction, runs nearer the river than this.

From the road which passes through Darnestown there are several others which lead to Frederick, and one of them branches at this point. The distance to Frederick from Darnestown is the same as it is from Rockville, viz., 28 miles; but the best road is that which branches from this one at Poolesville, nine miles distant. Poolesville is only eighteen miles from Frederick.

The rebel army evacuated Frederick on 12th, passing through Boonsborough and Hagerstown toward Williamsport.

Eye-witnesses state that the rebel column was from nine o'clock in the morning until dark passing a given point. The force of the rebels, estimated by an officer who witnessed their movements, was thirty thousand infantry, six thousand cavalry, and ninety pieces of artillery.

THE FIRST VIRGINIA CAVALRY.

WE publish on page 612 a fine picture of the FIRST VIRGINIA CAVALRY, one of the crack regiments of the rebel service. Mr. Waud writes:

"Being detained within the enemy's lines, an opportunity occurred to make a sketch of one of the two crack regiments of the Confederate service. They seemed to be of considerable social standing, that is, most of them—F. F. V.'s, so to speak, and not irreverently; for they were not only as a body handsome, athletic men, but generally polite and agreeable in manner. With the exception of the officers, there was little else but homespun among them, light drab-gray or butternut color, the drab predominating; although there were so many varieties of dress, half-citizen, half-military, that they could scarcely be said to have a uniform. Light jackets and trowsers with black facings, and slouched hats, appeared to be (in those cases where the

wearer could obtain it) the court costume of the regiment. Their horses were good; in many cases, they told me, they provided their own. Their arms were the United States cavalry sabre, Sharp's carbine, and pistols. Some few of them had old swords of the Revolution, curved, and in broad, heavy scabbards.

"Their carbines, they said, were mostly captured from our own cavalry, for whom they expressed utter contempt—a feeling unfortunately shared by our own army. Finally, they bragged of having their own horses, and, in many cases, of having drawn no pay from the Government, not needing the paltry remuneration of a private. The flag represented in the picture is the battle-flag. White border, red ground, blue cross, and white stars."

LAURELS.

"REMEMBER, Janet, where you change cars."

"And write just as soon as possible, Jenny."

"And oh, Jenny! my photograph. I'm to have

the profile view, you know. Don't forget."

"And I, too, Miss Jenny," said a deeper voice in

a lower tone.

Then the last bell rang, the girls repeated all in breath their parting words, young Carew swung the small boy upon his shoulder in time to whisper a pretty phrase, Uncle John reiterated, "Remember, Janet, where you change cars;" and the next moment they stood upon the platform and Janet was speeding on her way.

She had congratulated herself upon securing an entire seat; but at the frequent way stations one after another dropped in, until the car was full, and Janet, with that fine courtesy of hers, gave up her place by the window to an old lady. It was quite late in the evening when they arrived at —.

"What, again? how I hate accommodation trains!" growled one to his neighbor, waking up out of a doze, then subsiding sleepily with, "Well, there is no room for any more in this car."

Just then the door opened and "one more" entered. A soldier in worn and shabby uniform—worn and shabby himself—"only a private," and evidently a very common sort of a person. He limped in with drooping head, his arm in a sling, his face half-covered with a neglected beard, showing signs of weakness and suffering. Janet looked up and around her. Surely some of these strong men about her would rise up and offer this poor fellow a seat. But they had all settled themselves for the night, and Janet waited in vain for them to rise.

So the train fled on, and the soldier leaned against the door, and, under the glare of the light beside him, Janet, from her place two or three seats away, saw what a weary effort it was for him. Surprise had given way to indignation on her face, and then there came an expression of some sudden resolve staved only by timidity.

She hated to draw attention upon herself, and shrank with nervous dread from making a scene of any kind; but the minutes went by, and the weary face grew wearier, and all about her there was heavy breathing or the turning of book-leaves, evincing the preoccupation of those that were awake, and the utter hopelessness of any of these "strong men" discovering the necessities of the situation.

A moment more and Janet had made up her mind. There was a deeper flush than usual on her cheek as she rose very quietly and went forward—only a few steps—for as I have said her seat was near the door.

The head of the soldier was drooping into his breast as she came up, and she touched his arm before he saw her.

A flush almost as deep as her own rose to the sallow, wasted cheek as she spoke to him, and for a second he seemed transformed as he drew himself up and with many thanks refused her proposal.

"But I am better able to stand than you are," she urged; "and, indeed, it will please me much more if you will take my place than if you refused it."

He was refusing again when a sudden pallor came over his features. He staggered slightly, and the next instant Janet had put her hand in his arm, and before he could oppose the proceeding he was in her seat, and Janet asking him to keep it in a way that would have convinced any person, however dull, that she would be exceedingly annoyed if he didn't.

Then the young lady returned to the door, and leaning in a light, untired manner against the casing, opened her book. But she was not unaware of the observation she had excited. The slight commotion had roused first one, then another; and it needed all Janet Wilmont's self-possession to keep her eyes steadily fixed upon the page and her color under control.

First one, and then another; and there was a general fidget, and every body seemed to wake up. By-and-by a young man near her stepped out of his seat and approached her. A handsome person, with rather an elegant air.

"There has been a mistake," he said, with a bend of his head, a grave face, and a slightly imperative tone.

Janet looked up questioningly.

"Probably no one observed that the young man to whom you relinquished your seat was unable to stand when he entered," explained the imperative tones, and quite as an imperative gesture, though perfectly well-bred, waved her to the place he had vacated.

Janet Wilmont, though shy of making a spectacle, and always shrinking from putting herself forward, had plenty of spirit and a great deal of pride, and it rose up now at what she considered altogether too lordly a manner, and a decided interference where interference was unwarrantable.

A meaning glance of her eye at the drooping figure, with its disabled arm, spoke as plainly as if she had said: "It hardly needed that last reeling step to show you his condition;" but she said

aloud, in rather a dry way, and a slightly haughty accent,

"Thank you, I prefer standing. I am quite able;" and turned immediately to her book—a proceeding that completely put an end to any more words, and sent the young gentleman back to his seat discomfited.

Glancing at the cause of all this, Janet became conscious of a pair of hollow, brilliant eyes fixed upon her with a curious intent expression; but the moment he felt himself observed they went down beneath the visor of his cap, and the brown beard drooped lower against the shabby uniform.

At the next station she remembered that she was to change cars. She looked at her watch—not more than half an hour longer to remain in her present not over-agreeable position; and then she thought,

"I do hope my soldier-boy won't in the mean time have another foolish fit of politeness, and annoy me by staggering up and insisting upon my resuming my seat. Was there ever a person so pestered in a simple act of courtesy as I have been?" And a laugh fluttered up to her lips and died out in a smile of amusement. But the "soldier-boy," to her infinite relief, kept his place, leaning a tired head against the cushioned back in a manner that evinced how much he needed rest and care.

At the "next station" all was bustle and confusion, and, in the midst of it, Janet saw her "soldier-boy" following her as she left the car.

It was dense darkness outside, and a hurrying crowd and a Babel of tongues did not tend to put the young lady at her ease.

Now and then the flashing of a lantern would give her a glimpse of a train, and a conductor would rush by with some unintelligible words, and baggage-men and the trundling of their freight helped to confuse still more. A feeling of despair was giving place to her uncertainty when some one touched her arm:

"This way, if you please. You are to take the down train, are you not?"

"Yes, thank you."

She was conscious of a light touch upon her arm in guiding, and presently the voice spoke again—a deep-toned, well-modulated voice—that of a gentleman undoubtedly.

"Here we are: be careful of that step."

Inside the car she turned to thank him. The lights fell only upon the "soldier-boy." The words staid upon her lips, a look of surprise on her face, and then a few words of question:

"Where—I thought."

Again that sudden searching look she remembered from the brilliant eyes; a suggestion of a smile just the flutter of an eyelid, and he said:

"Allow me to thank you for your great kindness. I was really more unable to stand than I at first thought. I can do very well in walking a little distance, but the continued tension of the muscles of my leg in standing for any length of time I find more fatiguing than any thing else."

The same voice that had warned her of the step.

Her protector was, after all, the "soldier-boy."

As she glanced at the rough-looking fellow before her, and heard those clearly-modulated tones, she could scarcely credit her senses.

The few words of refusal he had spoken at their first meeting an hour or two ago were so faint and low, that she had not detected the quality of voice.

He turned a seat for her away from the glare of the lamps, and placed himself in the one just behind, with a weary motion that stayed the interested questions that Janet was about to ask him concerning his wounds. And left to silence and her own thoughts, she fell to speculating over the odd contrast of speech and person. She had just come to the profound conclusion that though his condition in life was ever so humble, he certainly must have a refined nature to possess such a voice; and then smiling drowsily at her thoughts, she was half way down a dream where Grant Carew was rallying her for her "queer interest in all sorts of people," she who was born to the

"—palm and the purple,"

when a gust of winter-wind recalled her. Then a deep, laboring breath, which was half a groan, smote her ear. She started quickly.

The window below hers was flung open, and the figure of the soldier, leaning forward to inhale the air, with an aspect of faintness. In a moment she had handed him a little cassolette filled with aromatic salts that had hung at her watch-chain. Its pungent odor seemed to have a vivifying influence, and she begged him to keep it—"she had really no use for it."

Again the simple, self-possessed manner, those wonderful tones, as he thanked her.

And again Janet fell to her speculations, and thought of the great men who had risen from obscurity and poverty to honor and eminence. She was sure this rough-looking soldier had the soul of a gentleman. "Somebody ought to give him a helping hand, poor fellow!" And again she laughed at herself, and fell to dreaming that same dream of Grant Carew, never waking till they steamed into the town—her last stopping-place—and the gray light of the dawn showed to her sleepy vision her brother Kit and Tom the coachman in waiting for her. "How-de-do, Jenny ?" and Kit leaped in, giving an order to Tom to bring the carriage nearer, and, as if there were not a second to lose, was beginning to hustle her off in his usual Young America style, when she turned and said something kind and pleasant to the soldier, "poor fellow!" hoped he would be better, etc.; which the poor fellow answered with that same easy simplicity of manner, in that inconsistent voice of his.

"Hallo, Jenny, who was that?," asked Kit, as they went out.

"Hush, Kit, he'll hear you!" and then she told him all she knew about it in a lower voice. He laughed, but called her a trump for giving her seat up to him; and arrived at home, where a Christmas houseful of guests awaited them, what must he do but relate the story himself, with embellishments, the saucy scamp!