Wolf In The Wind: Part 1

  • Friday, January 17, 2025
  • Mason Montague Eslinger
The New Year tends to bring forth moments of reflection for many, it’s a time of celebration, a time for pondering upon the past, present and future. That’s where I find myself now, but sometimes we can find ourselves stuck in the past, and no… not in the sad melancholic type of way, but in the “What have we learned?” kind of way. This got me thinking, is this the same thought dilemma our ancestors faced when turning over the calendar on a New Year? I wonder what New Year's Eve celebrations looked like pre-black-eyed peas and cornbread (so prior to the Civil War).
Perhaps there was a feast? A gathering of family and friends? Maybe there was music? Fireworks? I don’t know for sure, but that’s when it dawned on me, I recalled coming across a firsthand account of a man named John Elsea, who lived in the Sale Creek area during the New Year of 1861. He wrote of an uneasy feeling about this upcoming chapter of his life, as political tensions had just boiled over within the United States as South Carolina seceded from the Union nearly two weeks prior.

With that in mind, I’m not sure how the Elsea family celebrated the New Year on their quiet homestead on the edge of the county, but I do know that John shared the same unnerving sensation as many when thinking of the coming year. He knew change was coming, every headline filled with vile propaganda, sewing deep societal fissures within the American landscape. The election of a highly controversial individual to the nation’s highest office and the growing pressure upon citizens to pick a side, all contributed to the electric nervousness in the atmosphere (I’m talking about 1861, not 2025…). 

Come February, the Confederate States of America had been created, but the mostly pro-union state of Tennessee wasn’t going to get involved just yet. The general population of Tennesseans weren’t quite convinced, that was until Lincoln's call for 75,000 boys in blue to cross the Mason-Dixon and “suppress” the rebellion following the bombardment of Fort Sumter in April of 1861. By the time the mosquitoes returned in June, Tennessee was flying the stars and bars, but Eastern Tennessee remained pro-union, stirring up the pot and pinning neighbors, families and friends against each other.

Occasionally on warm summer nights, when the crickets drowned out any and all noises, and the fireflies lit up the narrow dirt paths. The Elsea household was known for holding secret meetings, secret unionist meetings… Well, as cool as “secret unionist meetings” sounds, it was much more like “secret meetings for people who were torn about the entire situation and weren't sure which side they aligned with the most.” I don’t know for certain who all attended these gatherings besides the Patterson family, but one can assume that the other neighbors such as McDonalds, Grays and Spivey’s also attended. It was during these few months that John truly molded his northern sympathies. For being behind enemy lines meant keeping his political views to himself for the safety of him and his family. Unfortunately for him, his sons would make this shroud difficult to maintain.

As early fall approached, and the news of major battles in Virginia hit the newspapers, young southern men became infatuated with the captivating stories of combat. Soon enough hundreds of men were flocking to the ranks of the Confederacy in hopes to win glory on the field, make a name for themselves, and prove themselves as men. Such was the case for the Elsea family. The initial call to arms in the area started with Col. William Clift taking matters into his own hands, attempting to raise a considerable number of Union-loving volunteers to act within Hamilton County. This wasn’t taken lightly by many of the local southern supporters. A community stakeholder “Jeff” Coulter, sought to combat such activities, deciding to start his own Confederate Cavalry Unit in hopes to get large enough to deter Col. Clift (or perhaps engage them). The first opportunity the Elsea boys got was with Coulter’s Cavalry, but they were smart enough to know that their father wouldn’t approve of them joining the ranks of either side. So, they devised a strategy to wait for his business trip to Chattanooga. After he had left, the two raced down the road to go see Mr. Coulter about joining his ranks, but what they did not account for was that to join the cavalry (an equestrian-based unit) they would need horses. So, the plan was to go purchase these horses, and where were the high-quality horses? In Chattanooga. 

Who else was in Chattanooga? Their father. Although their plan worked, and they were able to get in and out of Chattanooga with their new horses undetected, word soon travelled to John. Once he found out that two of his sons had enlisted in the rebel army, a frenzied John scurried back up to his home nestled between McDonald Farm and the Tennessee River to try and intervene. He got there just in the nick of time, unfortunately for us, not much is recorded of this interaction between his sons, but after finding out the root of their desire to serve, they settled. He forced the boys to return their horses and enlist in Col. William Clift’s volunteer regiment that has now grown to a couple hundred men.

This act of northern sympathy no doubt spread like wildfire across the ears of staunch southern men in the region. The seemingly growing enthusiasm for the federal cause and the growing number of men Col. Clift was receiving made for the first great concern the Confederate forces of East Tennessee were to witness, and something had to be done about it. John Elsea, along with many other families in the northern portion of the county, were about to learn why they should have kept their mouths shut. There was now a wolf in the wind, circling Col. Clift and the heart of Northern sympathies across the region.

* * *

Mason Eslinger is a descendant of the Sale Creek McDonald family.
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