Newspapers; Adair County KY  The Adair County News   17-Nov-1897

Submitted By: Laura Frost Wright   lsllwright@fuse.net
Submission Date: 27-Mar-2000

Nerve Saved Him.
"Shoot You Like a Dog If You Move a Muscle" Said the Lieutenant to Quantrell.
The Reckless and Daring Man Given His Worst Scare at Danville KY

Current stories regarding the career of Quantrell, the noted guerilla who
harassed the Union soldier, have resulted in bringing to light the fact that
his most thrilling and probably his most narrow escape from death occurred in
Danville. Quantrell made but one excursion through this part of Kentucky but
it was a bold dash and he left a trail of blood behind him ,more than one
Federal soldier or sympathizer being found with the Quantrell mark
- the bullet hole in the forehead just between the eyebrows. On the day of
Quantrell's close call, he had arrived in Danville from Hustonville,
Lincoln County. At Hustonville he had halted to lay in a fresh stock of
horseflesh and there some of his band had murdered a Union officer. A woman,
who had been at Hustonville, preceded the guerillas to Danville and when
Quantrell reached the city, she recognized him and spoke to him, calling him
by name. Quantrell simply smiled and said to her, "Why madam, you were never
more mistaken in your life; I am Captain . . of the Federal Army." Quantrell
and all of his men were attired in Federal uniforms, and were posing as
Federal scouts. They halted in Danville, and as Federal soldiers were in the
habit of passing in and out of towns in small squads, no particular attention
was paid to the guerrillas until they had been in town five or six hours.
The woman who had accosted Quantrell upon his arrival believed he had
deceived her and she told a young Federal lieutenant then in town what she
thought about the men who had arrived that morning. Quantrell and his men
were going about town pretty much as they pleased, lounging around the hotels
and saloons feeling perfect security. The lieutenant, from the description
furnished by the woman and from what he had heard of Quantrell, was convinced
that the fine looking fellow masqueradling in Federal clothing was none other
than the guerrilla and determined to kill or capture him. The lieutenant
procured a carbine and started upon a hunt for this man. He finally caught
sight of him walking down the main street of the town. Quantrell was alone.
He walked the length of several squares down one side of the street and
started up the other side, the lieutenant with the carbine in his wake all
the time waiting for an opportunity to corner his man. About the middle of
the main square, Quantrell entered a saloon and called for a drink. Just as
Quantrell reached over the bar railing to take up a glass, he glanced into
the big mirror against the wall and noticed the Federal lieutenant entering
with carbine ready to fire.Quantrell very cooly set the glass down, turned
about, and faced his pursurer. The carbine had by this time been brought to
the lieutenant's shoulder; its muzzle was within three feet of the guerrilla's
breast and the eye which looked down the shining barrel was keen and cool.
Quantrell dared not make a false move and he was powerless to protect himself
by force. His heavy overcoat was buttoned up to his chin making the pistols
at his waist useless. He gazed at the lieutenant very complacently for a
brief period, smiled, and said, "How now comrade, what are you going to do
with that gun?" " Shoot you like a dog if you move a muscle," was the reply.
"You are Quantrell. You have played it for a long time, but now you are my
prisoner. March into that room over there." Quantrell glanced to an open door
at the end of the bar, but didn't obey the command. It was not his intention
to do so. His nerve was superb and his self possession complete. "Ah,I see,"
he remarked quietly. "You take me for Quantrell, but you are wrong I assure
you. My resemblance to that scoundrel has been most provoking. Permit me to
call my orderly sergeant and I will show you that I am as true to the Union
as you are. He has my papers." The lieutenant looked surprised as well as
somewhat confused and Quantrell noticed his discomfort. This was a signal for
the deception to be redoubled and so he continued. "I have also heard about
the guerrilla being in this section. To my certain knowledge, he is not in
Kentucky and you are simply making a fool of yourself. Put down your gun and
as long as we are in the same cause let us be friends." The lieutenant was
completely nonplused at Quantrell's cool effrontry and, considerably abashed,
told him to call his orderly but kept the carbine ready to fire. On the
street not far away Quantrell saw some of his men talking and he called to
one of them to enter. The man went into the saloon and as soon as he saw his
chief covered with a carbine drew a heavy weapon. "Stop," shouted Quantrell.
"Not so fast. Put up your pistol. Our friend here has heard that I am
Quantrell. It's amusing. Show him our papers from the Secretary of War in
order that this embarrassment may be removed." " All right captain," was the
reply. The man began feeling in an inside pocket for the papers, still
holding his revolver however in his right hand. He approached the lieutenant
as he started to withdraw his hand from his coat, but instead of bringing out
the papers he suddenly and with the ferocity of a wildcat sprang upon the
young Federal, felled him to the floor, and held him fast with the muzzle of
his gun against his head as he cried, "These are the papers you are looking
for. We always have them on hand for such as you. Must I give him the old
mark, Captain?" "No, let the gentleman up," replied Quantrell. The lieutenant
arose and was disarmed, and expressed himself as very well satisfied with the
papers. Then the trio took a drink together. As Quantrell and the lieutenant
continued the conversation, the other guerrilla quietly slipped out, passed
the word, and in ten minutes more Quantrell's horse was standing in front of
the bar-room ready for him to mount. He shook hands with the man who had
given him the worst scare of his life, left the saloon and rode away. Before
the lieutenant could collect his thoughts, Quantrell and his band were far on
their road to Louisville.

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