In this quiet old place we bivouacked for a half day or more, while our forces were up and down the roads, destroying railroad tracks.

Somewhere in this neighborhood is the railroad running between Gordonsville and Richmond. This track was torn up, and all the railroad route to Manassas Gap and Washington City from the South was made useless.

Most of the readers know how a railroad track is destroyed in war, so I shall describe it very briefly. Of course we were supplied with the "tools" for drawing spikes from the ties quickly. A number of rails at a certain point are lifted; the cross-ties are then taken up and built into a sort of open-work, brick-kiln-shaped pile several feet high, being quite narrow at the top. On top of this pile of well-oil-soaked, weather-dried logs are laid the iron rails which have been lifted from them. These are placed so that the middle of the rail rests on the ties, the long, heavy ends being balanced over the sides. A fire is kindled in the tie pile; the grease in the ties, perhaps aided a little by more combustibles, soon makes as hot a fire as comes from the top of a furnace. The ties burn up slowly, but with such a constant heat that the iron rails soon become red hot. While in this soft condition the overhanging weight of the long ends causes them to bend and twist out of shape. This renders the rails utterly useless for a railroad track. They become old scrap-iron, and must be worked over at a mill before they can be used again as rails. It cannot be straightened out by any process that will admit of its being again used in rebuilding the destroyed tracks.

I saw at one point on the track where these hot rails had been lifted off the fire and twisted around the trunks of trees. After they had cooled in that shape, the only way to get the old iron was to cut down the tree and lift the loop over the stump. Of course, the rebels could repair the tracks in time, but to do this required several days in which new rails could be transported to the spot.

One of the purposes of this raid to Richmond was to destroy the immense Tredegar Iron Works on the James River. This large establishment supplied the Confederates with nearly all their iron materials, such as cannon, shells, bridge material, and a thousand other articles necessary in war. To have effected its demolition would have most seriously crippled the Rebellion.

Of course the details for this anticipated railroad destruction had been carefully planned before we started. All the necessary appliances for the work had been brought along. Each officer knew exactly what he was expected to do, and, as a rule, they all successfully completed their tasks. It was expected that I should be of service in tapping the telegraph wires, and to me was left, in a general way, the oversight of the telegraph business.

The General and his Staff, to which I was attached, did not, of course, ride in the extreme advance. Imagine my surprise and disgust, on coming up with a party of these railroad wreckers, to find that they had exceeded their instructions, and cut down nearly a mile of telegraph poles to burn with their ties. They had gathered the wire up and piled it in heaps on the fires. This was exactly what I did not want done. My purpose was to first tap the wires and attach my pocket instrument and have some fun out of it. Another reason for disappointment was, that I had discovered--if not patented--a safer and surer method of destroying telegraph lines. Of course a mile of wire is more easily transported then a mile of rails. Two men can carry a half-mile coil of wire. A telegraph line can be rebuilt and used with the wire lying on trees, or even fences, in dry weather. Therefore, the cutting out of a mile of poles was not an effectual interruption. My plan was--and I call attention of future war-telegraphers to it--to first take some of the small magnet wire, which is so thin as to be almost invisible, attach this to the insulator hook, or wire at the top of the pole, lead the thread of wire down the pole, imbedding it, if possible, in some seam or crack to further conceal it, and at the bottom of the pole run the other point of wire into the ground. If this is done, be the wire even as small as a silk thread, and made of copper, all electric communication is effectually conducted off its channel. Each current, or wave, or signal, sent from either side of this wire will take the short cut and follow it to the ground, where it becomes lost. Neither side can converse or signal over such an obstruction, and they do not know the character or location of the trouble, as the wire works as usual. Of course each operator will wonder why the other does not respond to his signals, and absence is taken for granted as the reason.

I had supplied myself with a quantity of this fine copper wire. Finding the point nearest Gordonsville where the wire had not been removed from the poles, I attached a thread of this thin wire to the line-wire and led it to the earth, so as to be concealed. I knew very well, from long experience, that the telegraph operator at Gordonsville would know, from the loss of all circuit, that the wire had been destroyed at some point, and it would become his first duty to send a man out along the road to find out and repair the damage.

We did not want Gordonsville to know that we, the Yankee raiders, were the destroyers. The piece of wire which I attached to the ground made the circuit short but complete, so that the wire worked as usual up to that concealed point, but no further. When the linemen should come out to repair breaks he would find the wire broken. This he would repair speedily and return to Gordonsville without discovering the little ground-trap that I had set. In time it would be discovered, by a system of tedious and expensive tests from pole to pole, but this would probably consume several days. A broken or destroyed gap of wire could be at once discovered and rebuilt in a few hours.

On the same evening, at a point some distance below this destroyed gap of railroad and telegraph wire, I drew the wire down from a convenient pole in a secluded way-side grove.

It was about sundown when I, with a few helpers, was dancing around a pole when the General and Staff road by. Seeing us engaged in this apparently mysterious business, their curiosity was of course, aroused; we were questioned, the General and his entire Staff stopping to watch the result of tapping the rebel wires.

Unfortunately, the premature cutting of the wires that morning had interfered with my plans for working quietly and secretly in this direction. When I got my little relay attached to the wire, you may imagine with what nervousness I took hold of the adjustment spring to feel for a signal from a distant rebel operator, probably in Richmond.

At first there were no signs of life on the wire. It was while my face was turned away from the instrument, talking to General Stoneman of the mistake of the men in cutting the wire, that I heard a faint click on the magnet. I turned from the General abruptly, bent my ear to the little ticker, and listened with every nerve and sense strained.

A second signal was soon made, which was lost to my ear by some loud talking among the Staff. I nervously turned to them and ordered General Stoneman and his Staff to "keep still."

That's a fact. The General laughed quietly, but didn't dare to open his mouth again.

I made the signal for interrogation, or question, which all operators understand to mean, "I did not hear you," or "What did you say?" The answer came back "Sign," which means give your signature or your office.

I judged at once that, whoever it was, he'd got wind of the raid and was suspicious. I merely said, as any operator was likely to do after a wire has been interrupted, "Is this wire O. K. now?" The answer came back from some point that I dare not attempt to locate by a question: "The wire has been down all day."

I was compelled to break off the talk by wire to gratify the curiosity of the General and Staff by an explanation. I told them I had "got"

somebody, but did not know who, and was afraid to give myself away by asking any questions. The General suggested, "You had better say that the Yankees cut the wires, and that they have been driven back home again."

As suggested by the General, I telegraphed: "The wire was cut by those Yankees on horseback, but it's fixed now."

"Is that so? Who is it?" were the questions fired at me.

"I'm a repairman sent out to fix this wire. The Yankees were chased back by J. E. B. Stuart to-day."

"Good enough. I thought Jeb wouldn't allow that," were some of the expressions which were used in reply.

I conveyed these messages to the General and Staff, to their great delight and amusement. The General was anxious to find out whom we had on the wire. They all saw from the automatic ticking of the little machine, when my hands were off it, that it was something at a distance making the signals. To gratify the General, and get around the question, I asked: "Is it 'Rd?'" which is the signal I had myself heard used, when I was at Beauregard's headquarters, from the Richmond office.

"No; it's Supt.'s Office." That was enough. It was the Railroad General Superintendent's Office. I had reason to think they had been led off by this talk, and hoped that they would notify the Richmond officials that the communication by wire had been restored, and that the Yankees had been driven off. In reality, we had more effectually destroyed their communication. Instead of being driven off, these Yankees proposed moving south at once toward Richmond.

The General and Staff rode off, evidently well satisfied with the little experiment. I was directed to lose no time in following. I "fixed" this wire to the ground, as I had the other side of the gap, and, after reporting to the Superintendent's Office that everything was O. K., left.

I have no doubt that both the Superintendent's Office and Gordonsville "called" each other quite a long time that evening, and perhaps each supposed the other had closed his office for the night and gone home.

Each one of the wires seemed to be all right; in reality it was, as far as these two taps to the ground.

To make a surer tap, or to more effectually blind the regular telegraph repair force, I carried with me some leather thongs rolled into a shape resembling an ordinary piece of line wire. These bits of leather "wires"

were inserted in the telegraph line and connected by the twisted joint, precisely in the same manner as the real wire. The effect is to break the continuity of the wire, or metallic circuit. A piece of this sort of leather an inch in length, inserted into the wire, as completely destroys the use of 100 miles of wire as if 50 miles of it had been torn down. Of course, it will be understood that the leather is a non-conductor of electricity. Not a wave of the current will get over it. To prevent detection, the leather, or tarred twine, should be an exact imitation of the real wire. In time it will be detected, of course, but an ordinary repairman on the lookout for a break will inspect the wire for days without discovering the hidden flaw.

We traveled nearly all of that night, reaching, I think, nearly to the James River the next morning. We did not all go in a body or bunch, of course. Every road was occupied by detachments of the raiders. We went as we pleased, giving to the people of the interior of Virginia a sight of the Federal uniform for the first and only time.

A great many of those F. F. V.'s, whom we called upon at their mansions, discovered, to their chagrin, that the despised "Yankee on a horse" was a good soldier and a gentleman. Such men as Custer, Kilpatrick, Buford and Gregg were there.

It would fill a good-sized pamphlet to tell all that I saw on this raid, so I shall condense as much as possible. We had destroyed all the railroads in our rear, and were ready to move on the direct line between Fredericksburg and Richmond.

Several days after we were out, the headquarters were resting or bivouacking at a large, old-fashioned tavern. I don't remember the name of the place, but it may be briefly described as one of those country stopping-places that are so frequent on roads traveled by stages and freight wagons. On the front of the house, along its entire length, was the wide porch, containing the usual row of benches and clusters of big hickory chairs. From this porch, doors opened into a broad hall running through the middle of the house, also into the office, or bar-room, at the end of the porch. Around the corner were the benches, or sinks, containing the basins, or bowls, for washing, while on the wall were hung a row of towels on rollers.

Seated about this porch, promiscuously, were General Stoneman and Staff.

They had sampled some of the whisky in the bar, and ordered warm meals for themselves. The attaches and orderlies were scattered around, as were the bodyguard.

A little distance from the house was a stream of water, or "crick,"

which we learned emptied into the James River, near by.

We were then above or west of Richmond, on the James River. We were all feeling pretty tired, and, to put it mildly, we rested uneasily at the old house. The landlord was like every other landlord at such a place--pot-bellied, red-nosed, good-natured, and pompous.

I had expected, when we rode off so briskly, that I should ride into Fredericksburg from the rear. I felt on that side of the river, which had separated us all winter, I was sure of seeing Geno at last. The great obstruction of the river, which had been in sight all winter, was now out of mind for the time being. Having heard of the occupation of the town by our forces, it occurred to me that I might make a little break on my own hook, and ride up to Fredericksburg.

I said something about it to one of the Staff-officers, who replied that I'd better hold on and go along with the rest of them. Getting impatient at this point, where it seemed as if we were hiding (ourselves and horses) in the woods, I suggested going out to our advance, in hopes of finding a telegraph wire to tap for news.

[Illustration: TAPPING THE TELEGRAPH WIRE.--"ARE THE YANKS IN FREDERICKSBURG?"]

This was readily agreed to. I was furnished a couple of men and directed to the nearest "main road." This, as I now recall it, was a road running west from Richmond toward the Valley. My impression--gathered from the colored people--was, that the road led to Lexington or Staunton. Anyway, I followed it out some way until we found an old-fashioned telegraph line. I mean by this, one of the early kind built along the highways.

There seemed to be but little travel along that route just then, so we had a good chance to get at the wire without being seen. One of the men held our horses and kept guard while another climbed or reached up to the wire from a fence.

I felt sure, from its dilapidated appearance, that it was some abandoned old wire. It was rusted so deeply that it snapped asunder at the first touch of the nippers. While hastily drawing it together again I felt the shock of a live current in the hand which held the wire. This satisfied me that we would get something for our trouble.

After I had inserted my instrument into the circuit, the delicate little armature was at once strongly attracted to the magnet. Adjusting my spring, I discovered, to my surprise, that our cutting of the wire had interrupted some dispatches. That they were important, I gathered from the impatient manner of the operator, demanding to know why he should be stopped so long in such an important dispatch. I let the two operators fight it out among themselves for a few moments on that line, each accusing the other of being responsible for the delay. When they got started again, I quietly listened to the ticks of the sending operator.

The first words seemed to be giving an account of a battle, in which certain friends had been injured.

Not being able to restrain my curiosity, and knowing, too, that we occupied dangerous ground on that highway, I "broke in," at the first chance, to say:

"Are the Yanks in Fredericksburg?"

"Not much," was the answer which came to my ears and made my heart sink.

"Why, I heard they were there."

"They were there, but Uncle Bob scattered them all back, and they are running on Washington. Who are you?"

"Oh, I'm a strange operator from New Orleans. I stepped in at this office to get the news, and found the operator out."