Secret Service Tales of the Confederacy

Little Known Facts of this Daring Branch

Revealed in Article Found Among Papers

of Dr. Charles Elisha Taylor

By Anne Barnett

Among the many Richmond youths who volunteered their services to their State on the day in April, 1861, when Virginia seceded from the Union, was Charles Elisha Taylor, aged 19. He was the son of the Reverent James B. Taylor and Mrs. Taylor, who lived on the corner of Shafer and Franklin Streets. Young Taylor was with Lee in the West Virginia Campaign, and then with Jackson until the battle of Kernstown, in which he received a severe wound. In 1863, he became a member of the Signal and Service Corps under the command of General J. E. B. Stuart. In this branch of the service he remained until the end of the war, attaining the rank of adjutant.

Soon after the war, Mr. Taylor took up his interrupted education and entered the University of Virginia, having had three years of college study at Richmond College before he joined the army. He showed marked ability as a student and graduated with high honors. He became professor of Latin and moral philosophy at Wake Forest in North Carolina in 1870, and continued to teach until in 1884 he was elected president of Wake Forest College, an office which he filled for 21 years. Dr. Taylor was responsible for securing an endowment for the college which amounts to almost a million dollars. Dr. Taylor died at Wake Forest, his home in Wake Forest, N. C., on November 5, 1915.

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The following article, written by Dr. Taylor and found among his papers, is of interest to Southern readers:

Beautiful Capitol Square in Richmond falls southward in verdant and well-shaded slopes to a short thoroughfare known as Bank Street. Here were located several of the departments of government and most of the bureaus of the War Department. Among these, situated about half way between the offices of President Davis and of the secretary of war, was a suite of rooms which, by a modest sign over the outer door, announced itself as The Signal Bureau. These offices consisted of a public reception room and of inner apartments into which none but trusted officers and employees were ever admitted.

The "bureau" was by day and night a center of interest to higher officials and to newspaper reporters. The great majority of people in Richmond thought it was only a sort of headquarters for the officers and men of the Signal Corps. A few others knew enough to stimulate the imagination with some sense of mystery. Only a small number, even of the well-informed, knew that from those rooms was conducted a correspondence, usually in cipher, with numerous agents beyond the limits of the Confederacy, that in them, with occasional interruptions, mail was received from Washington almost as regularly as from Charleston, and that through them cipher dispatches between generals in the field and the departments were constantly passed.

Personnel of Corps Without Reproach

Among the many patriotic sons of Maryland who pledged their fortune to Southern independence was Major William Norris. Early in the war, he was released from duty on General Magruder's staff and placed at the head of the Signal and Secret Service. It was largely due to the inventive and executive ability of Major Norris and of Captain (afterward general) E. P. Alexander that this service became very efficient and useful in several directions.

The Signal Corps was composed of one major, 10 captains, 20 lieutenants, 20 sergeants and about 1,500 men detailed from the ranks of many regiments. These men, though privates, were, for the most part, well educated and of high social standing. And the fact is noteworthy that, while they were often employed in independent service and were trusted with important secrets, no case has ever been reported of a betrayal of trust by any one of them. All were experts in signaling and in the use of cipher. They were, of course, entrusted with the keyword.

"These men," says H. E. Cummins, who was an officer in the corps, "when the occasion required, became dauntless messengers and agents, going into the enemy's lines and cities, or to the lands beyond the sea; communicating with agents and secret friends of the Confederate government; ordering supplies and conveying them to their destination; running the blockade by land and sea; making nightly voyages in bays and rivers; threading the enemy's cordon of pickets and gunboats; following the blind trails through swamp and forest, and as much experts with the oar and sail, on deck and in the saddle, and with rifle and revolver, as with flags, torches and secret cipher.

To every division of infantry and brigade of calvary was assigned a squad of from three to five men, all mounted, and commanded by a lieutenant or sergeant. Each of these men was provided with signal flags for use at night. The flags were about four feet by two and a half feet in size and contained in their centers squares of another color than that of the body of the flag. For use against a dark background like a forest or hill side, the white flag was used; against the sky, a dark blue flag; and against a field of snow, a scarlet flag. To establish a line of communication for temporary use in the field was short and easy work for those who had experience. Of course, this was more difficult in a flat than a hilly country. The stations were not far apart and glasses were not always necessary. Whenever possible, some elevated central point was chosen as a station to and from which, as a medial point, messages could be sent from the field.

In 1864, General J. E. B. Stuart was falling back, covering the retreat of General Lee after the battle of Bristoe Station, closely followed by General Kirkpatrick, he left a brigade hidden in the woods on the flank of the advancing enemy. With this brigade he kept in communication by means of signal stations. In this way he was enabled to attack Kirkpatrick's flank and front simultaneously, and to achieve a success which was long known in calvalry circles as "The Bucktown Races." Kilpatrick's wagon train supplied the Confederate cavalry enough genuine coffee and toothsome sutler's stores to feast on for several weeks.

Signal Sites Often 'Reserved Seat' for Drama

The Confederate soldier, in spite of his rags and lack of rations, was always on the qui vive for fun, and his sense of the humorous was always appealed to when a column marched in sight of the men whom they called "flag floppers." It was hard for them to refrain from such good-natured inquiries as, "Mister, is the flies a botherin' of you?" "Say, is mosquitos plentiful around here?"

One of the chief uses of the Signal Corps was in work over permanent lines extending to the headquarters of the several army corps and divisions which were not reached by telegraph lines. Mount Poney, near Culpeper Courthouse, Va., was successively used by the Signal Corps of the Confederate and the Federal armies. Early in 1862, General Pope had caused to be constructed a high scaffold, or pen, of trunks of trees on the summit of this mountain. From this elevation, the whole country was visible for miles around, especially after it had been denuded of its forests. Here, as on all other permanent lines, were used powerful glasses. Some of these were secured from Southern colleges and later on, many excellent ones were brought back from Europe through the blockade. Mount Poney served admirably as a post of observation as well as a center of communication. When General Lee fell back behind the Rapidan River, I was able to watch for six or eight hours the slow and cautious advance of the whole Federal army, extending about eight miles east and west, and on some of the roads massed in great numbers. A more magnificent spectacle I have seldom witnessed.

Later on, Clark's Mountain near Orange Courthouse, Va., was used for the same purpose. When General Lee's army was in Orange County in 1863, reports were sent every few hours about the movements in the camp of General Meade, which, for the most part lay in full view. Some of the glasses of stronger power almost revealed the features of the nearer Federal soldiers.

One morning a party of ladies, escorted by Confederate officers, rode to the top of Clark's Mountain and became deeply interested in the sending and receiving of messages. One young lady, from Charleston, S. C., asked to be allowed to send over the line a greeting to a gallant general, well known as a ladies' man. As the line happened to be idle, the message was cheerfully sent. In a few minutes, the young signal officer rose from his seat at the glass, saying, "I have a reply for you, do you wish me to deliver it?" "Why, certainly," said Miss B. "Well," said he, "the message is, General S. sends a kiss to Miss A. B." The young lady turned away in confusion, suffused with blushes. In spite of the rigor of military law, that message was not fully delivered, but I have never heard that the young officer was court-martialed.

Jumbled Messages Sometimes Amusing

It was not generally known during the war and it is not known now to many that for many months there was a permanent post of observation hidden on a timbered bluff overlooking the Potomac River. By a line of signal stations this post was in communication with the nearest telegraph office on the Fredericksburg Railroad. No steamer carrying troops passed up or down the river without General Lee's knowing of it within a short time. Changes of base and movements of troops between Northern and Eastern Virginia were thus observed and reported.

The best regulated lines of communication will play tricks sometimes. General Stuart once received a message from one of his staff officers who was visiting near the lower end of this line, inviting him to "come down and eat jumping mules, which are very abundant." Even at its worst, however, the Confederate army did not often have to resort to mules for commissary supplies--especially near the great rivers, which at certain seasons abound in jumping mullets.

The system of flag communication was very simple, an alphabet being formed by combinations of right and left waves of the flag. A practiced operator could in this way spell out a message almost as rapidly as a telegrapher can do it with his dots and dashes. And the work was greatly facilitated by the use of many abbreviations which came to be universally known by all skilled operators.

One distinct department of work of the Signal Corps was on blockade-running steamers. No steamer ventured to come into port without at least one signal officer on board to communicate with the forts and batteries. Instead of flags and torches, each officer was provided with two large lanterns of different colors with sliding screens in front. Standing between these and using the same alphabet which was used in the army, he sent his message. In this case the two colors were used instead of the right and left waves of the flag.

Stations were located for 30 or 40 miles along the coast on both sides of the blockaded port. The blockade-runners came in close to shore after nightfall and from time to time flashed their lights to shore. These were soon answered. Information was then given as to the condition of things, the position and movements of the blockaded fleet, and the chances of a safe home run. If it was decided to try to bring the steamer in, proper lights were shown for the pilot's guidance and a swift run was made for the port.

Positions as signal officers on blockade-running steamers were considered very desirable and were much sought after. Not only had this special service its exciting and romantic features, but it was also profitable, as the officer usually contrived to store away a few bales of cotton on private account on the outward trip and was thus able to bring back from Nassau many articles of necessity and luxury which could not be secured within the limits of the Confederacy. And I have known it to create a small sensation in Richmond when one of these young fellows, just in from a successful run, would unscrew the heels of his boots and take out a handful of English gold.

From time to time, in order to prevent the enemy from reading our messages, the alphabet was changed throughout the South. Our men were often able to take down the dispatches of the Federal Signal Corps. One man, sitting at the glass, would call out the right and left waves of the enemy's flag. Another, at his side, would take them down. Then, by noting the relative frequency of similar combinations, as illustrated in Edgar A. Poe's "Gold Bug," they were able not infrequently, to decipher the message and secure the alphabet. Whenever this was successfully done, it was at once communicated throughout the corps.