Tad Lincoln's Father

Chapter 9

nine During the early days of the war there were constant rumors of spies in the capital. Following Bull Run the rumors became more pronounced. It was whispered that Confederate spies had obtained the exact plan of the battle and just when and where the attack was to be made, and in this way Beauregard was enabled to concentrate his widely scattered forces in time to meet McDowell at Manassas. Following the battle, wild rumor sped from mouth to mouth that the city was full of spies, that a plot had been discovered to cut the telegraph wires connecting various military positions with the War Department, to spike the guns in Fort Corcoran, Fort Ellsworth and other important points and to take General McClellan and several others prisoners. To our house came one day a bland gentleman with distinguished black whiskers to make inquiries about Mrs. Rose Greenhow. Mrs. Greenhow and her little daughter Rose often came to our house and we liked them both. Mrs. Greenhow was a dashing, beautiful woman and I admired her. She was a brilliant conversationalist, dressed in the mode and was a leader in Washington society. In the days before Lincoln, President Buchanan and Miss Lane had dined at her house, and even at this time she numbered many distinguished people among her friends, although everybody knew her real sympathies were with the South. The inquiring gentleman, whose name I do not remember, but whom we afterwards heard was a secret service man under Allan Pinkerton , asked us a lot of questions regarding Mrs. Greenhow. Yes, she did tad lincoln’s father 61 seem glad to meet officers who visited our house. Yes, she had asked Bud and Holly and me about our visits to the White House and what Mr. Lincoln said. My father remembered that she had asked him questions about the regiments that had arrived. But why did the gentleman ask these questions? What was wrong about Mrs. Greenhow? He took my father aside and conversed with him in whispers and my father said, “Very well, I will caution the children to say nothing.” We were cautioned accordingly. We must say nothing about the gentleman’s visit or his questions. We obeyed but we wondered greatly. Then at last the mystery was solved. Tad and Willie arrived one day with the sensational news that Mrs. Greenhow had been arrested as a dangerous spy. “They’ve got her shut up in her house with a lot of other spies,” said Tad excitedly, “and there’s a guard at the door and they’ll probably shoot her at sunrise to-morrow. Get your hat, Bud, and we’ll go over.” My mother at first forbade my brothers to go near Mrs. Greenhow’s house but after much pleading by Tad consented to let them go on condition that sister Julia should accompany them to see that they did nothing improper. Accordingly we set out for Mrs. Greenhow’s. We recalled the blackwhiskered detective and wondered whether any of the information Mrs. Greenhow had gleaned from us had been sent to Richmond. It made us, especially Bud and Holly, feel most important. Tad had never met her but regaled us with the false information he would have given had she tried her wiles on him. Mrs. Greenhow lived in a quiet, unpretentious house at Number 398 Sixteenth Street. We found a crowd of curiosity seekers in front and a detachment of Sturgis Rifles, General McClellan’s bodyguard, surrounding the house. We knew the young lieutenant in charge, but he was on duty and refused to talk. We found out afterwards that Mrs. Greenhow had been arrested secretly several days before the news leaked out and that several of her spies had visited her house and fallen into the detectives’ trap. It was little Rose who at last gave the alarm and perhaps prevented the capture of other Confederate agents. The detectives kept constant watch on Mrs. Greenhow and her servants, including Lizzie Fitzgerard, 62 tad lincoln’s father a quick-witted Irish maid. But little Rose was allowed to go out into the garden to play. Climbing a tree she hung over the garden wall, calling to passers-by, “Mother has been arrested. Mother has been arrested,” until Pinkerton’s men at last heard her and carried her indoors. But enough people had heard little Rose to make it impossible...