A MAN AND A CITIZEN

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1636, 8 July 1903, Page 5

A MAN AND A CITIZEN

The fo‘ur men. on a lonely picket post in the mountains of West Virginia were given a surprise one night during the war of the rebellion. They had been told that their post was an extremely dangerous one, and that their lives, and the safety of the camp, depended on their vigilance. But despite their caution, straight up to their post came a rebel soldier, and the first they knew of him was when, ho spoke to them. “Does you’n’s want any more ’listmen ts.”

“No,” said Soageant Phillips, who was in charge of thq picket. “We don’t- need any more, but if a good man comes along and wants to enlist, I suppose we could take him. Where do you belong and where do von come from ?” “I b’ioug to Colonel iMosby’is company, they are scattered all over the hills ’round hero, and I slipped away from them to go home and see the ole woman and the young ’uns, and the fust thing 1 knowed I run right into you’ns..” “Where does your family live?” said the sergeant. “They live' near the head of Guyan, and I reckon it’s about 30 miles over thar.” “Bo you want to enlist in the Union army ?” said the sergeant. “Yes, I wanted to jine the Yankees at last, but I jest had to go with Colonel Mosby.” “How long have you been with him?”

“Pfarty nigh two years. I’ve jes’ been scoutin’ over the hills all the time. I never packed no gun nor pistol nor nothin’. I was in you’ns’ camp when you’ns was on Paint creek, and at Buffalo Shoal.”

“Bid you find out how many men we had?” asked the sergeant. “They told me ‘you’ns- had about 10,000, but I knowed better.”

“Bid you report to Colonel Mosby that we had that many ?”

“Yes. Told him the hills was full of Yankees.”

“Did you know how many men we had?” asked Sergeant Phillips. “Yes. You’ns only had about 1000.” “And I suppose that story saved our necks, did it?” said the sergeant. “1 reckon,” said the rebel spy.

“Well,” said Sergeant Phillips, “you seem to be an honest sort of a fellow; would you tell us anything of Colonel Mosby’s army, now ? Bo you know anything about it ?” “Yes; I know whar’s about 400 of ’em is camped.”

“How far from here?” “Abcfut nine or ten miles,” said the spy.

His manner seemed so frank anfl apparently honest, that the sergeant was interested in him. He held him at the picket post until the officer came on his round and then sent him to camp. The next morning the matter was taken up by the officers, and by request the sergeant was allowed to be present. The officers allowed the spy to enlist with the union army; but told him to retain liis own clothes for a while before putting on our uniform. They told him if he would guide a detachment to Mosby’s camp by the best route and assist in the attempt to capture the rebels, they would then send a detail with him and allow him to see his family. He readily agreed, and the next morning a detachment of picked men were on the way toward the camp of Mosby’s guerillas, guided by the rebel spy. He guided them faithfully, and the success of the foray is a matter of history. Suffice it to say that- besides the capture of many prisoners, Mosby’s men were driven out of that part of the mountain country, and the people were given a period of quiet. The spy was impatient to see liis family, and a squad of men were sent with him to his home. There they saw destitution that reminded them of revolutionary history. The faithful wife had kept her children about her and managed to subsist where it seemed almost impossible. The cabin m which she lived was scarcely a shelter, she had received no tidings fi’om her husband during the two years he had been gone, yet she felt that he must have chosen the right side of the question, or he -foul'd have come home. The soldiers divided their rations with her and her children, and the next day, when they set out to return, she was allowed to go with her husband, who had sent her across the river into Ohio, where she found a home with a family whose sons were in the regiment in which her husband had enlisted.

He proved to be a valuable man to the regiment, and his accurate knowledge of the country was of great service to the commander. He was the guide in many dangerous expeditions, and always proved faithful. He was twice wounded and once captured by the enemy, but escaped and returned. He served with the regiment until mustered out at the end of the war. On his return to his wife and children he had but one arm and he wore the straps of a lieutenant. He remained but a short time in Ohio. Taking his wife and children, he set his face westward, and was one of the “claimers” who settled the Osage Reservation in Kansas in 1870. He became a leading and honoured citizen in

his community, and a whole page in a country paper published in southern Kansas was given to an account of his life and the notice of his death, recently*

In a little graveyard on the banks of the Neosho river stands a very plain and unpretentious slab on which is cut his name. He needs no monument. His name lives in the memory of liis neighbom's and friends. How small a matter may change the whole course of a man’s life. His opportunity was in joining himself to that lonely picket post on a bleak mountainside in West Virginia. The characteristics that made him valuable in warfare made him a good citizen in time of peace.—“'Columbus Despatch.**