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Utf;)^'! A. ^J^ft- \jr\Ha!0 

Unlvcraily o( Michigsn 




l*KKHMN'l'»'.I» HY 

n H )< ) 


arrative oi Prison Escape. 


Latfr First L>£>utanant Seventy- ttiird liUnois Voiuntanrs. 

) tliaa Twenty Nights' Travel on Foot 

Si^ Heghncnts and Five States Ropresen' 


"tEFT ALONE."- P»8« 53. 


I, MeiRonnda of Thmc V«ar»' Svrvk* nM^iinipanf "C," S<ivn«)l|-1<ltri) llli 

lahnlry. embr^olng Shetvh of purl burnv b> Opoilj'ckP'i 

Battle of Fmnktln. Tennaufru, ftQVemb»v 30. (8fi4. 


._^pllt IPHB Fn^Sm OPPOI^'PUNIIPY D^s^ 

After arriving within tlie Union lines, the author of this **NARRATI¥E" drew 
from tlio Quartermaster's Department, Lytle Barracks, Cindnnuti, Ohio, IMaroh 
31, 1804, the following articles, viz.: 

One pair of PaiitM, 4|2 50 

One pair of Drav^'eret, 90 

One pair of Stoclclnifs, 32 

One pair of 81ioef», i 48 

One 01ouf»e, 3 12 

One Overcoat, 7 50 

One Plannel Slilrt, i 53 

One Cap, 58 

4|i7 93 

John llutsinpiller was the Lieutenant and Actinjr <2uartermaaSter. The in- 
voice above was certified as being correct by A. J. Ilogan, Captain 1st Ky. Vol. 
Inf., commanding barracks. I certify now, this June 2, 1888, that I did not 
draw the clothing before it was needed; and that before getting into it I was 
relieved of more hair than I have ever been relieved of since, at any one time. 

W. II. Newlin. 

Tlie large, plain, and clear type in which this "Narrative" appears makes 
it w€*ll adai)ted for reading while riding in a railway passenger coach. 
From a letter lately received, I take the liberty to quote as follows: 

" WASHrNO'mN, I>. ('., May 27, Inss. 
•'My Drak Mk. Nkwlin: 

"I liJivc been in Washington rity since scndinji tho photoirraph 
t4) you from Cincinnati. I>«'i'n Ijusily <KM'U|»i<Ml witli portraitun- anions llio <lfniz«'ns of 
this beautiful fity. Came via tlio Clu-sapcalco & Ohio Kallroad uoin^ fioni Cincinnati to 
Winchester, Ky., then stritcin^ the t.runl{ line on tinou^li Aslilantl, l\y., llnntiniiton, Va , 
to Charh»ston, Kanawlia Kalis, and up tli«' Now IUv«r. What t!;ran«l snMU'ry ! o my! 
Carried your i)Ook alonsj: and Ivi'pt myself inten'stt-d in what y<»u saw an«l f»*lt in that 
rougti and mountainous, l)Ut- now -in pi-acv I'lnirniinix country. SiiuM- coinin'.' I-'-M^t. have 
spent four <lays at tlie Summer ln)m«« of Mr. tJeorifi* Alfn-tl T<»wnN«-nd <; (Japland, 
Md. Ho has I'io a<'res in tlie very center of Cramptou's (Jap, where the »>atti«' of t'ram[»- 
ton's <iap was fou>>ht. Septeinb«;r 11, l^tL*, thr»M <la.\s before tlie batlh- of Antietam. . . . 
T painted a sketcli from the famous liurnside IJridjre. . . . Shall yet. "^eml for a num- 
ber of <*opies of your story. Very truly jour «M)mra<le, with best wishes, 

*'S. .Ikijomk I'lll.." 

To show the success a canvasser has met with, w(^ quote from tw(» letters 
as follows: 

••.\N\CoND\, MoNTANX. Vpril 1';. I>^7. 

"W. IT. Nkwlin, Hanville, III.: 

"SiK,— I write airain.a'^ I think it i< about time to <»rder hhmj- hook^. I ejune lien- 
tills A. .M..and <oId tw»'nly-oiie copies of 'Prison Escape/ at .*»."> I'eiils ••ach. (*oiil<i have 
sold more, only it r:ilne«i. and I had to (juit work. I am ulad youi book m-IIn so wt-ll 
Send nie .JiMi copi«'.s, »»v frei-iht. at oiic»' to Mi.<*<ouIa, Miv^ioula County, Montana '••"' 

Sann' canvasser, in answer to iinjuiry received, responded Mibsintitially as 

follows : 

"HiTTK i'nw Montana, March '1\. \<>r:. 
"C. C. Imkks. I'ubia, Minn.: 

"SiK.— Your letti-rof March TJih n eeived t«»-<lay. The book. 'Narrative of Prison Esuapt*.* 
is printed and boun<l at < incinnati. Ohio; and W. II. Newlin lives at l»an\ ilit . HI. Wo.ilil 
advi<e yt»u to write to him for prices. I bejzan with the Iniok last Winter b\ bu\ inj; i\»e;ve 
er)pies. and .so fai* 1 have sold nearly tw*) thou.sand copies. . . . 

*' Very truly, l.i'cv Yolnu." 





ESCAPE OF Six Federal Soldiers 


Their Travels by Night 





v*^ BY 

UiuUnant Seventy-Third Illinois VdunUirM. 




£iiterecl» according to Act of Congress, in the )ear 1870^ 


In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 




rpHE account contained in these pages was first written in 
^ 1866. Its publication was delayed in the hope that we 
should learn something of our two comrades who were left 
behind. After revising and abridging it somewhat, it is 
presented to the reader in its present form. We were 
compelled to rely on memory in preserving for publication 
the incidents here narrated, as while on our trip we had 
neither pencil nor paper. That reliance, however, was not 
in vain, as the scenes through which we passed, though 
here poorly portrayed, are of a character not easily forgot- 
ten. They are indelibly enstamped on the memory, and it 
seems each year as it passes renders the recollection of 
them more vivid and distinct. It is not needful to state 
the motives which prompted this compilation. Much of the 
same character has been written and published, but as this 
differs in one essential particular, at least, from all that has 
yet appeared, we hope that fact will form a sufficient 
excuse for introducing it to the public. 

W. H. lit 

This Narrative Duly Authenticated by Sworn Statements of 

Two Ck)znracLes who were on the Escape, is on 

me in Pension Claim, No. 352,023. 

After Seventeeri Years IriqairY 

From all the information ever obtained touching the fate of first 
comrade left behind, the reasonable conclusion is that he perished at 
or near the place where we lefl him, his remains being found and de- 
cently buried near Blue Rid^e Mountain. Whatever ]mfate may have 
been, it was setf decreed. His reasons for preferring to be left alone 
were satisfactory to him, and were not all disclosed to us. One 
explanation of this last rather singular circumstance may be found 
in the fact that the comrade was an Englishman, and had been in 
this country but a few weeks before enlistmg. 

How much we should like to see the old ** darky" to whom we 
said, "Put your ear to the string-hole,* and on his compliance with 
the request we pronounced the word " Yankees." (See page 60.) 
"I'U git my trowserloons on." 

In the case of leaving the second comrade, as described on pages 
72-76, there was no option or time for deliberation. The exigencies 
of the hour compeUea a separation. Mr. Tripp succeeded in escap- 
ing the notice of our pursuers, though hid in their immediate 
vicinity, and hearing their talk enumerating reasons for their failure 
to ^^tcuGe t^ in." A^r several days and nights of wandering and hid- 
ing, and of varied and interesting experience, Mr. Tripp was recap- 
tured, sent to Richmond, kept there until September, 1864, was 
{caroled, exchanged, and discharged. He is now living near Bur- 
ington, Kansas. 

John F. Wood died June 20, 1864, ** of wounds received in 
action." Referring to this, Sutherland, in a letter written not long 
since, says: ''What a pity Wood had to die so soon afler escaping 
]>rison. But he might have died a slow and miserable death at 
.Andersonville had he not escaped." 

Sutherland is living in Michigan, near Eagle Station. Smith 
resides at Dundee, same state. Mr. Smitli very narrowly escaped 
drowning at Craig's Creek. Mr. Sutherland's opportune landing on 
the opposite bank of the rushing stream barely in time to extend to 
Smith a helping hand is all diat saved him. In addition to all 
others, we had the perils by ^* Bogus YarJcees" to encounter or avoid. 
We risked our lives to save them, and saving them we risked them 
a^in and again for our country. Having been captured in our 
third battle, by escaping, at least two of us, added to the three, 
thirteen more. But all this was better than Andersonville. We 
mi^ht have been numbered among the mastybs of the nineteenth 
century. ** I would not make that trip a^in," said Smith, ** for the 
whole state of Michigan," adding '* unless I had to." 

Danville, III., November 27, 1885. W. H. N. 


fT those ''stirring times/' daring the late war, when powder, 
and ball, and the bayonet were the orders of the day, an escape 
from prison and a secret, hidden march through the Confeder- 
acy, was accounted an exciting, as well as a very lucky event. 
Even at this day, accounts of such are not stale, but possess a 
thrilling interest, especially to those who participated in them 
and to their friends. Our journey over mountain and valley, 
over hill and dale, and across rivers, branches, and rivulets 
almost innumerable, was accomplished mostly in the night time. 
We had neither map nor compass to guide us. The north 
star alone served us in shaping our course, and very often it was 
concealed by ominous clouds. We took many needless steps, and 
made many needless and weary miles in consequence of lack of 
knowledge of the country and of the course) we were steering. 
Sometimes the desolate hour of Winter's midnight found us &r 
from the public highway, and almost inextricably involved in the 
brush and tangled mazes of the forest. At such times, being 
almost at our wit's end, we would try to advance on a ''bee 
line" until the open country or some road was reached. 

At one time, when much bewildered in the shadowy woods, 
in night time, we began to despair of success. We sat down to 
contemplate our condition and our cheerless prospect. Had an 
enemy been approaching us we could have well-nigh welcomed 
him, so he brought deliverance. At length the stillness and 

thick darkness of the night made our loneliness oppressive, 



and we groped on. Soon we found a road, and realized that the 
"darkest hour ia just before day." 

Knoxville, East Tennessee, was the point at which we first 
aimed, but on nearing the line of the East Tennessee and Virginia 
Railroad we learned Longstreet's forces were in Bull's Gap. We 
then bore northward. 

On first setting out on our trip we were extremely cautious. 
During the first nights and days, after starting, we talked only 
in whispers. We passed houses with the utmost care, as dogs 
were at almost every house, and their acuteness in discovering 
our presence waa astonishing, in view of the caution we exer- 
cised. Early in our trip, one night near eleven o'clock, as we 
were nearing a house, a dog barked savagely at us. Instantly 
the front door opened, and by the light of a fire in the fire-place 
we saw a woman in her night clothing, watching us pass. Late 
one night, after midnight, we met a citizen on the road. He was 
on horseback, moving slowly ajong. He gave the road, at the 
same time checking his horse slightly. When he had passed by, 
the way he made his horse scamper was lively, to say the least. 
" He must be after the doctor, the way he goes," observed Trippe. 
"He took sick mi'ty sudden," rejoined Wood. "The sight 
of us at this time is enough to make him sick," put in a third. 
We were walking in Indian file, and had our blankets drawn 
loosely over our shoulders and dragging almost on the ground. 
Doubtless we were scary looking objects, especially as Smith had 
his bed-quilt hung over him. Thinking the man had possibly 
gone for re-enforcements with which to "gobble" us, we hurried 

The night of our discovery of the cavalry horses, being much 
wearied, and feeling we were going to be "hard pressed" for 
food, we climbed into a corn field to hunt for corn that might 
have been left on the stalks. Each of our party followed two 
rows across the field and two back, but not a "nubbin" could 
be found. Not finding a grain of corn on two dozen rows, and 
the corn blades being also gone, we concluded, as Taylor ob- 
«erved, "They gather their nubbins clean in the Confederacy." 
"Yes," added Wood, "they can't hold out much longer." 

nrTEODUcmoN. 7 

Another night, at a late hour, after Taylor and Trippe had 
fallen by the way, when in Craig or Alleghany county, we 
reached a point where the road we were traveling croesed a 
pike. On reaching the pike we halted, and a disagreement arose 
among us as to the course we should take. We quarreled, 
words ran high, and we seemed to have forgotten our safety 
depended on secrecy, as there was no lack of emphasis in what 
we had to say. At last Sutherland ended the dispute by saying 
to me, " Let *s go on." We started immediately, leaving Smith 
and Wood muttering. For more than an hour we steadily pur- 
sued our course, when, discovering it was nearly day, we halted 
in the woods, near the road side, to see if our comrades were 
coming up. Soon they came along the road, and one of them 
said, "They'd better not advance too far without support." 
"Yes," said Sutherland, "we are waiting for the reserves to 
come up." Soon after we were hid for the day. 

The Union people, the hardy mountaineers of Virginia, or 
those of them with whom we came in contact, rendered us valu- 
able assistance. Without their aid, indeed, and the aid of the 
negroes, we could hardly have escaped through the almost bar- 
ren country of the enemy, especially in the inclement season. 
We have heard from David Hepler, James HuflFman, and Mrs. 
Mann since the war closed. In a letter from Hepler, received not 
long since, he says: "I have not forgotten the time I came to 
you in the woods and found you all asleep." 

We copy one of Huffman's letters in part. It was dated 
November 11, 1867: "As to information concerning your fellow- 
prisoner that was lost the evening you came to my house, it 
was not the Botetourt Guards that fired on your squad. It 
was the furnace company. I saw a lady, living near the furnace, 
who saw the men returning. They said they neither killed nor 
captured any of your squad. As to Paxton, he is living yet; 
so are the people that had the boy hid under the bed." 

Our latest information respecting Trippe is a report that ho 
was recaptured, taken back, and shot as an example. Of Tay- 
lor, nothing has ever been heard, by us at least, and our painful 
conjecture is that he never reached the lines. Of our three 


oomrades who reached the lines. Smith and Sutherland are 
living in Michigan, and Wood is supposed to be a resident 
of the Eey-stone State. Smith, of the Fourth Michigan Cav- 
alry, was present at the capture of the Confederate President, 
Jefferson Davis. 




THE writer hereof was among the prisoners captured by the 
enemy in the battle of Chickamauga, Georgia, September 
20, 1863. Others of the regiment to which I belonged also fell 
into the enemy's hands. As we had served together through 
all the vicissitudes of a soldier's life in the camp, on the march, 
and in battle, we resolved to remain together, and stand by each 
other as prisoners as long as circumstances would permit. On 
the day after the battle, September 21st, we were placed on 
board the cars at Tunnel Hill, and sent under a strong guard, 
by a circuitous route, through Georgia and the Carolinas, to 
Richmond, Virginia. We arrived in Richmond on September 
29th, eight days having been occupied in the transfer of pris- 
oners from the battle-field. We remained in Richmond through 
the month of October, and until November 14, 1863, when we 
were removed to Danville, Virginia, which is south-west of Rich- 
mond about one hundred and fifty miles, in Pittsylvania county. 
The transfer was by rail, and each member of our squad suc- 
ceeded in getting aboard the same car. Near noon of Novembei 
15th we reached Danville, and were immediately introduced to 
our new quarters. Our squad was allotted a space on the second 



floor of Prison No. 2, a largo frame building, where it remained 
unbroken until December 16, 1863. 

A short time previous to this date the small-pox had made 
its appearance among the prisoners. On December 14th 1 was 
taken sick, the usual symptoms of small-pox appearing in my 
case; and on. the 16th I was examined by the Confederate sur- 
geon and sent to the hospital, in company with three other pa- 
tients from other prisons in the vicinity. 

As I here separate from the six persons with whom I had 
been associated since my capture, and with whom so much dis- 
comfort and inconvenience and so many privations had been 
borne, I here give their names. They were John Hesser and 
John North, of Company A, Seventy-Third Illinois Infantry Vol- 
unteers, and James Kilpa trick, of Company B; Enoch P. Brown, 
John Thornton, and William Ellis, of Company C. They were 
all of the Bame regiment with myself, and the three last named 
were of the same company. The two first named and myself 
were all of our squad that lived through the term of imprison- 
ment. My term, however, did not last as long as that of the 
others, as the following pages will show. If my information is 
correct James Kilpatrick died as a prisoner under parole early 
in 1865, at Wilmington, North Carolina. E. P. Brown and John 
Thornton died at Andersonville, Georgia, in September, 1864. 
Brown died on the first anniversary of his capture, September 
20th, and Thornton died a few days before. William Ellis died 
at Charleston, South Carolina, near the close of the year 1864. 
Hesser and North were among the last of the Andersonville pris- 
oners that were exchanged and sent North. 

On arriving at the small-pox hospital I was placed on a ounk 
in Ward No. 1. I kept in-doors for the space of five or six days, 
at the end of which time I was classed among the convalescents. 
On or about December 22d, three convalescents, of whom I was 
one, accompanied by only one guard, went into the woods on the 
right bank of Dan River, in quest of persimmons. We went some 
distance into the country, probably four miles, and secured a 
quantity of persimmons, which we distributed to the patients in 
Ward No. 1 on our return to it in the evening. While out od 


this ramble through the woods^ guarded by only one person, I 
was favorably impressed with the notion of attempting an escape 
from the Confederates at some future time, when strength would 
permit. The idea was suggested to my mind by the carelessness 
of the guard, who more than once set his gun against trees and 
wandered some distance from it. 

About Christmas a row of eight wall tents was put up on the 
hospital grounds, to be used as quarters for convalescents. I was 
one of eight persons assigned to tent No. 1, and, as I was a non- 
commissioned officer, the hospital steward placed me in charge 
of the sixty-four men occupying the eight tents. It is needless 
to recite here what the duties were that belonged to my position, 
but I discharged them as faithfully as I could, so as to keep out 
of the prison-house in Danville as long as possible. 

Sometime in the month of January, 1864, the nurses in each 
of the three wards of the hospital escaped from the guards, and 
started for our lines. This necessitated another detail of nurses 
for the wards, and the detail was made from among the conva- 
lescents. The hospital steward did me the favor to appoint me 
as ward-master of Ward No. 1, giving me the privilege of select- 
ing those who were to assist me as nurses in the ward. I selected 
those with whom I had become most intimately acquainted as 
convalescents. Lucien B. Smith, of Company F, Fourth Michi- 
, gan Cavalry; William Sutherland, of Company H, Sixteenth 
United States Infantry; Watson C. Trippe, of Company H, Fif- 
teenth United States Infantry, and John F. Wood, of Company 
G, Twenty-Sixth Ohio Infantry, were the persons selected. After 
a short time, Kobert G. Taylor, of Company G, Second Massa- 
chusetts Cavalry, was added to our force of nurses, to make the 
burden of labor in the ward a little lighter on us. We attended 
the patients in Ward No. 1 day after day, and night after night, 
as well as we could with the scanty supplies of medicine and 
food furnished by the Confederates, until the night of February 
19, 1864. Very many of our fellow-prisoners came under our 
care while we were acting the part of nurses. Many of them 
died, and we saw their bodies carted away to the burying- 
ground and deposited in their last earthly resting places. 


By the 12th of February the small-pox had begun to abate. 
As a consequence, the convalescent camp and Ward No. 3 were 
discontinued. A day or two later and Ward No. 2 was cleared 
of patients and its doors closed. Those who had been attend- 
ing as nurses were returned to prison. Two weeks, or three at 
n?ost, could hardly elapse before the hospital would be entirely 
broken up. In this event we should be returned to the dreary 
prisons in Danville, whence escape was scarcely possible. To be 
kept in prison many months, perhaps until death alone should 
bring release, was an unwelcome prospect, and we looked upon 
it with feelings of dread. We had friends and comrades among 
the prisoners, whom we disliked to leave behind us, but as our 
presence with them could do neither them nor us any good, vre 
determined to improve the first opportunity of attempting SiU 
escape from the Confederates, and avoid the prison entirely. 

February 19, 1864, was a cool day for lower Virginia, acd 
we would have deferred our escape for a few nights had we not 
luckily and accidentally ascertained that we should be sent iniio 
prison on the morning of the 20th. Our careful, though hasty, 
preparations for slipping off from the guards were accordingly 
commenced just before dark on the evening of February 19th. 
Before entering upon the detailed account of our escape and sub- 
sequent trip to the Union lines, it will be requisite to describe 
briefly the hospital buildings and surroundings. 

The hospital was situated one mile south-west of Danville, en 
the right bank of Dan Kiver. The river runs in a north-east 
course, consequently the hospital was on the south of it. There 
were three wards at the hospital, each capable of accommodating 
fifty patients. The wards were numbered one, two, and three. 
There were also a cook-house, a steward's office, and a dead- 
house. These buildings were constructed of undressed pine lum- 
ber. Ward No. 1 was located on the top of a high round hill; 
near its south-east corner, and almost adjoining it was the cook- 
house. A few steps north of the ward, and equidistant from its 
eastern and western extremities, stood the steward's office. At 
the west end of the ward was the dead-house. About one hun- 
dred yards south-west of the dead-house Ward No. 2 was situ- 


ated, on the hill-side. At the foot of the hill, nearly one hundred 
yards south-west of Ward No. 2, stood Ward No. 3. Directly 
east of Ward No. 2, and south of Ward No. 1, was the row of 
tents which had been used by convalescents. Still further east, 
at the foot of the hill, was a considerable branch, coursing its 
way northward to Dan Kiver. Just across the branch, on its 
right bank, was a large wall tent, in and near which all the 
clothes washing for the hospital was done. The persons detailed 
to do the washing slept in the tent. The Confederate surgeon 
in charge of the hospital had his quarters in Tent No. 1 of the 
row of tents formerly occupied by convalescents. His tent was 
nearest the cook-house and Ward No. 1. The tent we occupied, 
when not on duty in the ward, stood just south of the surgeon's 
tent, and so near it that the ropes supporting it interlocked or 
crossed those which supported the surgeon's tent. In Ward 
No. 1 was the receptacle or place of deposit for all clothing that 
bad been washed* Quite a lot of clothing, belonging in part to 
patients in the different wards, but mainly to the unfortunate 
ones who had 'died, was stored away for the use and benefit of 
those who might be insufficiently clothed. Wards No. 1 and 3 
htkd been whitewashed, but Ward No. 2, which had been put up 
between them, at a subsequent date, was not. 

Near Ward No. 3, at the base of the hill, was a spring of 
water, from which the hospital was supplied. Between the wards 
and other hospital buildings, and all about over the hill-sides, 
stood tall and straight pines. To the north of the hospital, about 
three-quarters of a mile distant, was Dan Biver, with its swift, 
noisy waters, hedged in by steep, rugged banks. To the south- 
east and south were cleared lands, traversed by a branch and its 
tributaries. Still farther south were heavy woods, with one poiuu 
of timber projecting some distance northward, into the cleared 
land toward the hospital. 

During the afternoon of February 19th, William Sutherland 
and myself were wheeling wood on a wheelbarrow from Ward 
No. 3 to Ward No. 1. Having to wheel it up hill it was a 
wearisome task, and we occasionally stopped for rest. Near four 
o'clock in the evening, while resting about half-way up the hill- 


side, Sutherland said to me, ''It looks to me very much as if 
this hospital would be broken up soon/' I agreed with him in 
hir opinion, and remarked that our lease of time at the hospital 
was growing short. After a little further conversation, we re- 
solved to consult with the other nurses on the propriety of at- 
tempting an escape, and get them to set out with us for our 
lines on the next night. 

In less than an hour's time we had finished our task of wheel- 
ing wood, and were resting on our bunks in the tent. Before 
either of us had met with our comrades, Smith, who was off 
duty that evening, came to us and informed us he had something 
to tell us that we would not like to hear. We told him to ac- 
quaint us with his news, however unwelcome it might be. We 
readily conjectured what it was that so interested Smith, and 
our conjecture proved correct.. He had overheard some of the 
guards in their talking, and had learned that it was the purpose 
of the Confederates to send us to prison in the morning. This 
news did not surprise us, and we were heartily pleased to le*arn 
the intentions of the Confederates, although they were not of an 
amicable nature. We resolved to prevent, if possible, the carry- 
ing of these intentions into effect. Smith was then told of the 
resolution we had formed an hour before to set out on the next 
night for the Union lines. The sun had already disappeared be- 
hind the hillSi We knew our fate if we remained at the hos- 
pital until its light should again break forth in the east. Our 
purpose to attempt at least, even if we did not succeed, to leave 
the hospital, the sick, the Confederate guards, and the Danville 
prisons that night was immediately and firmly fixed. 

Our preparations were at once commenced. We were obliged 
to exercise the utmost caution in all our movements, as a few 
of the guards were standing about over the hospital grounds; 
some of them were in the cook-house. We wished by no word, 
or look, or act of ours, to lead them to suspect our purpose of 
eluding them and striking for liberty. 

Smith left Sutherland and me in the tent and joined Trippe, 
Taylor, and Wood, who were on duty in the ward. Smith soou 
found an opportunity of conferring with his associates, and telling 


them of the meditated escape. Taylor and Wood were anxious 
to join it, but Trippe, who had but recently recovered from the 
small-pox, was distrustful of his strength; and as he had oi\ce 
before escaped, and got some fifty miles away, only to be re- 
captured and brought back, he did not so readily sanction the 
project. The nurses who were on duty in the ward now, assisted 
by Smith, gave their exclusive attention to the sick ; they were 
even more attentive than usual. No one would have suspected 
from their conduct that they would ever forsake the sick ones 
under their care. 

Just before dark Sutherland suggested the propriety of de- 
termining on a place of rendezvous for our party after the guards 
were passed, as it was certain we could not all pass out at once 
without being seen. I stepped outside the tent, and walked 
leisurely up hill, and stood near the south end of the cook-house. 
Directly south of me, about a mile distant, was a prominent 
point of timber, projecting northward from the main body to- 
ward the hospital. This point of timber seemed suitable for the 
purposes of a rendezvous, and on returning to the tent I directed 
Sutherland's attention to it. He concurred with me as to the 
fitness of the place for a rendezvous, and went to the ward to 
call the attention of Smith, Trippe, Taylor, and Wood to it. As 
it was important that our party should fix in the mind the place 
of rendezvous before it was too dark to see, those who were en- 
gaged in the ward came out, one at a time, and glanced across 
at the point of timber. By so doing misunderstanding and de- 
lay, at the critical moment, would be prevented. While Trippe 
was out taking a look he noticed two or three guards approach- 
ing him. He walked on down hill in the direction of the wash- 
house, as if going after clean bed-clothes or other clothing for 

Near eight o'clock, P. M., Sutherland sought an interview 
with the cook, but found the Kebels had not yet left the cook- 
house for their own quarters; so he quietly withdrew from the 
room. The cook — ^who of course was one of our own men — ^fol- 
lowed him to the door and asked if any thing was wanted. As 
the Kebels were within hearing, Sutherland answered, " There is 


H man in the ward who would like to have a little soap, bat I 
guess he can get along without it. If he must have aome,** oon- 
tinued Sutherland, *' I will come back and let you know.** 

"All right," answered the cook. 

Soon after the guards went to their quarters, which were sit- 
uated near the guard line, but little more than a quarter of a 
mile distant, south-west of the cook-house. The cook was again 
sought by Sutherland, and this time he was found alone, and 
just ready to retire for the night. Sutherland lost no time in 
making his business known to him. Six haversacks, the best 
that could be found in the deposit for clean clothing, were de- 
livered to the cook, who agreed to fill them with the best pro- 
vision the cook-house at the time afforded. Sutherland then 
busied himself in selecting clothing for our party from the de- 
posit of clothing that had been washed and stored away. When 
he had selected the number of garments required he carried 
them down to our tent. He and I then took off the clothing 
we had long worn, and put on entirely clean suits. We then 
went to the ward and relieved our four associates, who immedi- 
ately went down to our tent and put on clean suits also. The 
six haversacks, which were filled with the best provisions the 
cook could provide, were brought to the tent from the cook- 

Near eleven o'clock, P. M., our arrangements for leaving were 
about complete, or as nearly so as was possible with the means 
at command. Taylor, Sutherland, and Wood, each had an over- 
coat and blanket; Smith had an overcoat and a large bed-quilt. 
Trippe and I each had a blanket ; we had no overcoats, but we 
wore an extra shirt and blouse apiece. For our feet we provided 
the best shoes that could be found about the hospital, and took 
pains to secure long and strong strings for them. During our 
attendance in the ward, patients about dying, or near death, had 
in several instances presented the nurses with their overcoats. 
These overcoats had been sold by the nurses to the guards for 
Confederate scrip. In this way we had obtained near two hun- 
dred dollars in scrip to carry with us on our journey. Taylor 
had a watch which was in time-keeping order. He also had a 


canteen. Smith had a half-moon tin bucket, which held about 
three quarts. The only knives we had were made of sheet-iron. 

We had watched in the ward, and perfected our arrangements 
for leaving by turns, until near midnight. A little after eleven 
o'clock we waked up two or three of the stoutest patients in the 
ward, and told them our departure was near at hand, and that 
they must watch in the ward for us, and keep the lights burn- 
ing until morning. We then bid them good-by, cast a last 
glance over the sick, and closed the door of the ward behind us 
for the last time. We repaired immediately to our tent and com- 
pleted our final preparations for the trip. 

As our tent was near that of the Kebel surgeon we weni 
obliged to carry on our conversation in a low tone. We put oui: 
blankets in a convenient shape for carrying, and made ever]' 
thing ready for starting. It was settled, in the first place, tha i 
we should slip out from the hospital grounds two at a time, 
Which two should go first was the next question that came U]» 
for decision. Six small sticks were prepared, and we drew cuts. 
These sticks were of three diflferent lengths, and the two who held 
the short ones were to pass out first. The two who held the sticks 
next shortest were to follow in a given time, and the two holdin){ 
the longest sticks, in due time, were to bring up the rear. When 
the drawing was over Sutherland and I held the short sticks. 

As time was precious we placed our haversacks and blankets 
under our arms and stepped outside the tent. We stood a mo- 
ment at the tent door, listening for the voices or footsteps of the 
guards. No sound fell upon our ears save that of the wind blow- 
ing through the tops of the tall pine-trees. On starting we went 
to the top of the hill and stopped at the south-east corner of the 
cook-house, where we again listened intently, but heard nothing. 
The moon, which had been shining at intervals since night-fall, 
had become partially obscured by floating vapor clouds. We 
kept our haversacks and blankets under our arms in such a shape 
as to imitate closely a bundle of clothing. We then walked 
slowly down the hill toward the wash-house. We followed tha 
path leading to the wash-house until we reached the branch. 
Instead of crossing the branch on the foot-log we turned to our 


right and went directly up stream, stepping sometimes on the ioA 
and breaking It. We kept close to the blufif, and stooped slightly. 
80 that it screened us from the west. To our left, on the east 
of the branch, was a flat or bottom, covered with pine shrubs and 
other bushes, which hid us from view in that direction. Unless 
the sentinel on duty had happened to be near the branch while 
we were passing, we could scarcely have done otherwise than 
escape unseen. At length we had proceeded, with much caution, 
a sufficient distance in the direction of our appointed rendezvous 
to feel light-hearted and secure. We pushed forward rapidly, 
crossed two rail-fences and gained the shelter of the woods, where 
we were to await the coming of Smith and Taylor, who had held 
the sticks of medium length at the drawing a few moments before. 
Sutherland and I laid our haversacks and blankets aside, and 
quietly, though anxiously, awaited their approach. 

While waiting, after the anxiety and excitement of the moment 
liad somewhat subsided, we found the weather quite cold. Our 
whiskers became stiflf and whitened with frost, and the winds 
penetrated our clothing. The moon shone out brightly. The 
sky was without a cloud. Those which had partially covered it, 
only a few moments before, had cleared entirely away. Our 
patience was severely tried, as our comrades, so anxiously ex- 
pected, had not joined us. On getting quite cold in the breezes 
of the wintery midnight, we danced about on our feet, and ex- 
tended our arms to quicken the circulation of the blood, and get 
ourselves warm. In this manner we passed some two or three 
minutes, when we stood still to listen for the coming of Smith 
and Taylor. We listened anxiously, but the sound of their wel- 
come footsteps did not greet our ears. "Can it be that they 
have been caught?" we asked ourselves, 

" If they have been caught the Rebels will soon miss us, and 
be on the alert, searching for us," said Sutherland. 

" Perhaps we had better be off then," I answered. 

We listened a moment longer, but heard nothing. We then 
gathered our haversacks and blankets, and started westward 
through the woods. We had gone but a few steps before we 
heard the noise of persons climbing the fence. We halted and 


remained perfectly still, as we were not sure the rebels were not 
on our trail. Soon we could distinguish the forms of two persons 
in the moonlight. They were moving toward the point of tim- 
ber we had just left. We now knew they were Smith and 
Taylor, and soon had the pleasure of hearing our names called 
in low, subdued tones by their familiar voices. Our whereabouts 
was soon made known to them, and they were soon with us. 
Smith and Taylor wished to know why we had not stopped in 
the point of timber, as agreed upon. We told them we had 
stopped there, had waited some time for them, and had given 
them up as lost, and then started on our journey alone, getting 
as far as that before hearing them. 

We had not long to wait for Wood and Trippe. They had 
followed Smith and Taylor more closely than the latter had fol- 
lowed Sutherland and myself. When Trippe and Wood had 
joined us, we introduced ourselves as Federals, and late nurses 
at the small-pox hospital near Danville, Va. As the squads of 
two each had formed a junction, our party of six was ready to 

After adjusting our haversacks and blankets about us, so that 
we could easily carry them, we set out through the woods in a 
westerly direction. In the woods we found that the snow which 
had fallen a few days before had not melted. We disliked to 
walk on it, as we left a distinct trail behind. We p'ushed on, 
however, and soon struck a wagon road, from which the snow 
had either blown oflF or melted away. It was not a public road, 
but was used merely as a timber road, to get out of the woods 
with loads of rails and wood. Its surface was very hard and 
gravelly, and we followed it a mile or two in a southerly di- 
rection without leaving many distinct foot-prints. 

The railroad leading from Danville, Va., to Greensboro, N. C, 
was soon reached, and we followed it in a south-west course : we 
walked on the ties, and made very good time. Soon we had 
reached a part of the road which ran over a high grading. On 
hearing a distant rumbling noise in the south, we judged there 
was a train of cars coming. In a few minutes more we saw the 
head-light on the engine as it came around the curve made nee- 


essary by the hills. We quickly slipped down the side d the 
grading into the bnshes, and watched the train as it passed. 
But one person on the train was visible to us, and that was a 
man standing at the door of the last car with a lantern in hi? 

On regaining the top of the grade^ we resumed our travels, 
walking on the ties as before. We followed the railroad until 
we had gone about five miles from our starting-point, when we 
came to a wagon road, which crossed the railroad at right angles. 
This road had the appearance of being much traveled ; by turning 
to our right and foUowing it, we went north-west — the direction 
we wished to go. As we passed a house near the road side, 
Trippe recognized the place as one he had seen when out before, 
making his first attempt to escape. He also knew the road we 
were following would lead us to the Seven-mile Ferry. This feny 
was so called from the fact of its being seven miles up Dan 
Eiver from Danville. We wished to gain the left or northern 
bank of Dan River before daybreak, if possible, and we pushed 
on eagerly and rapidly. The road was smooth. Its white sandy 
surface could be plainly seen. Dense woods, with thick bushy 
undergrowth, closely lined it on either side. The hill leading 
down to the ferry was at length reached. It was a long, but not 
a steep hill. The road as it led us down the hill-side was 
meandering in its course. 

When we were but little more than half-way down hill, the 
thought that there might be a guard at the ferry happened to 
suggest itself to Trippe's mind. He proposed that we should 
retire into the brush near the road side, and wait until he should 
go on toward the ferry and reconnoiter. We assented to this 
proposal, and went a dozen steps or more from the road and 
halted. Trippe went on down hill alone. He was gone several 
minutes, a half hour almost it seemed to us in our restless 
anxiety and concern. We became impatient for his return, and 
quitting our places in the bjfush, walked down hill on the road. 
Near the foot of the hill we saw Trippe slowly retreating from 
the ferry. He had seen us, and removing the cap from his head, 
was excitedly motioning for us to halt. We stopped immediately, 


and kept still. Trippe also stopped, and tarned around, looking 
anxiously toward the ferry. He looked only for a moment, and 
then quietly rejoined us where we had been waiting. He whis- 
pered to us, saying, " Let 's go back up hill." We turned about, 
and walked silently up the road. No word was spoken until we 
had reached the hill-top. It was to us a moment of deep and 
thrilling interest and expectancy. 

On reaching the upland we halted at the road side, and Trippe 
reported the discoveries he had made at the ferry. He had gone 
very cautiously down hill, and had soon stood where he could 
see the river plainly, and also the ferry-boat. He had stood 
{)erfectly still until he had assured himself that no guard v/as 
near. He could see nothing but the forest-trees, the river, and 
'<he ferry-boat, in the light of the brightly shining moon, which 
made the frost and waters sparkle. He could hear no sound, 
iiave those of the swiftly running waters, and these amply sufficed 
(q drown any noise he himself might make. He turned around 
uui started back to us, to beckon us forward. Almost at the same 
instant he heard a noise. Thinking he might have trodden on a 
itick and broken it, thus making the noise himself, he proceeded 
half a dozen steps further; when, still hearing something, he 
stopped, and again looked in the direction of the ferry. A little 
io the right of it, in the edge of the woods, he saw the sparks of a 
lu*e flying upward. He watched the fire closely, and it sent up a 
>laze which shed light far around. One Butternut cavalryman 
4vas first seen to stir the fire, and then add fuel to it. Boon 
three others got up from their bed and warmed themselves.' 
Trippe stood still, and watched them, until they laid down and 
covered themselves in their bed. He then silently withdrew, 
feeling sure he had not been heard or seen. As he did so, the 
horses of the cavalrymen neighed, and pawed the ground, as if 
manifesting uneasiness. As we were sure the Confederates were 
not aware of our presence, we felt glad we had escaped so well. 
Oar escape was a narrow one, however ; had we arrived at the 
ferry ten minutes sooner, we should most certainly have been 

Our disappointment in not getting across the river at the 



ferry was great, as we coold make no progress in the cHrectlon 
we wished to go until we had gained its northern bank. We 
consulted briefly as to the course we should pursue ; and soon de- 
termined to retrace our steps until we should find another road, 
or some path that would lead us up the river. We started. As 
the weather was cold and morning approaching, we hurried on. 
An obscore road, leading off in a south-west direction, was soon 
found. We changed our course, and followed it. It led by some 
plantation houses. We left the road and houses some distance 
to our right, as we did not wish to alarm the dogs and set them 
to barking. 

On returning to the road, we followed it directly up the river 
until we had traveled five or six miles, from Seven-mile Ferry. 
It became evident that day-break was at hand* A safe hiding- 
place for the day next engaged our attention, and we halted. It 
was first determined that one of ojar number should go a quarter 
of a mile further up the road, to see if any houses were near in 
that direction. Sutherland went some distance ahead, and on 
returning reported none. As we had passed but one house since 
falling back from the ferry, we judged we were some distance 
from any human habitation. The query then arose, shall we 
hide in the open woods on our left, or in the inclosed woods on 
our right ? After a short parley, we concluded to secrete our- 
selves in the inclosed woods. We could then get to the river 
without having the road to cross. Any parties of cavalrymen 
that might be out scouring the country, were also less likely to 
come across us in our retreat. Accordingly we crossed the rail- 
fence, and left it and the road directly behind us. We worked 
our way through the thickets of brush and briers until we were 
fully a quarter of a mile from the road, in the direction of the 
river. On a spot of ground entirely surrounded by pine-trees 
and bushes we made our bed, and, lying down, soon fell asleep. 

The weather being quite cold in the early morning, we waked 
up at sunrise, on account of cold feet and general discomfort of 
body. Trippe got up and took a partial survey of the adjacent 
woods. He went northward, still further from the road we had 
left at day-break, and found an open space where we could make 


our bed in the Bunshine. To this open space, which was covered 
over with tall dead grass, we moved our haversacks and bedding. 
As we wished to rest well during the day, we took pains to make 
a good bed. Quite a lot of dead grass and leaves was first 
gathered. On the grass and leaves we spread the four overcoats 
belonging to our party. On the overcoats we spread Smith's 
bed quilt. Our caps, haversacks, and blouses were used as pil- 
lows, and our five blankets were used as covering. In this man- 
ner we usually made our bed all through our trip, varying it, 
of course, according to circumstances. Having completed our 
bed, we laid ourselves down to rest, and slept comfortably until 
late in the day. We made it a rule for each of our party to 
sleep as much as desired during the day. We did not require 
one of our number to keep awake as a watch for the others dur- 
ing the . day. If we had done so, we, of course, would have 
watched by turns. The propriety of so doing was often discussed, 
but we generally deemed it safest to have no watch, as the per- 
son watching would have to sit or stand up, and would thus ex- 
pose himself to the danger of being seen by somebody who might 
be passing, and so lead to our recapture. 

It was near four o'clock in the afternoon of February 20th, 
when we aroused ourselves from our first slumber as refugees 
from prison. We got up and went down into a hollow near us, 
where there was running water, and washed our faces. After 
combing our hair, we opened our haversacks, and were about 
commencing to eat, when we discovered that our corn-bread 
was frozen. Our matches — of which we had two small boxes — 
which we had luckily procured some two weeks before, now 
came in good play, as it was needful to have a small fire in 
order to thaw our bread. We secured a small lot of dry pine 
limbs and twigs, and built a fire in the hollow sufficient for 
our purposes; and soon we had dispatched our first meal since 
leaving Ward No. 1. After finishing our meal, we put our 
blankets and other baggage in traveling order. As it was too 
early to set out, we engaged in conversation, laying plans and 
expedients for effecting a crossing of the river. We resolved 
to put ourselves across Dan Eiver that night, or on the follow- 




•ng day, at almost any risk. As a final preparation for the 
night's marching, we each secured a stout stick or cane. One 
of the boys alleged our canes would be needed in case of at- 
tack. Taylor had a very large cane for a man of his size. On 
being spoken to concerning it, he remarked that he was going to 
cross the river on it. The evening wore away. The king of day 
having sunk below the western horizon, we began to look for the 
moon, whose light was to shine upon our pathway. It had not 
appeared above the horizon ; soon afterward, however, the moon 
arose, and began shedding light. We felt a kind of loneliness on 
leaving the place which had sheltered us during the day. 

As Danville, Virginia, was within one mile of the southern 
boundary of the State, and as we were at least thirteen miles 
south-west of that place, we knew we were in the friendly brush 
and thickets of North Carolina. On setting out, instead of go- 
ing directly back to the road, we traveled parallel with it for 
more than a mile. We then changed our course and went back 
to it, thinking it late enough to travel it without meeting any 
one. We had gone but a few miles on the road, and passed but 
one house, when the noise of the river assured us it was not far 
oflF. We then left the road and sought the banks of the stream. 
\7e crossed an old field, in which we found much mud and 
'jater. The walking was slavish and wearisome, as the wet, 
u.ayey soil adhered to our shoes. The snow, which had recently i 
melted, had swollen the branches. We found it necessary to 
Mross a branch or almost go back on our trail. By means of a 
ience, a water gate, and some rails, we succeeded in crossing it 
without much difficulty. It required time and close watching, 

On leaving the branch behind us we climbed a fence and 
entered the woods. These woods were dense, and there was a 
thick, brushy undergrowjbh, which greatly impeded our progress. 
We found it impossible to go directly to the river. It was 
quite dark, for, although the moon was shining brightly, its 
light penetrated the heavy woods imperfectly. From the in- 
cessant roar of waters we judged we were near the river; but 
we struggled on through vines and thickets for a full half-hour 


longer. It was not a great while until we could see, ahead of 
us, quite an opening; it was the course of the river through the 
forests. We pressed on and soon stood upon the bank, against 
which dashed the angry waters. Huge pieces of ice were borne 
swiftly down the swollen stream. We had thought of construct- 
ing a raft of poles and rails, lashing them together with bark 
and vines; but such materials were not at hand, and the con- 
dition of the river forbade the attempt at crossing on a raft. 
We longed to get across the river, but the prospect seemed all 
but' hopeless. 

We pushed on up stream, hoping to find suitable materials 
for building a raft and a place where the condition of the river 
would admit of launching it. We had gone a mile or more 
without discovering any means by which we could cross the 
ntream; still we did not despair; hope continued to struggle 
aigainst reality. We must get across the river that night, we 
thought, or venture too far and risk too much to-morrow. The 
current of water became more rapid and impetuous as we ad- 
vanced; the roar of the river sounded much louder than before, 
and our chances of getting across did not seem to improve. We 
e^on came to a drift of logs, slabs, and rails, but owing to the 
fondition of the stream, the quantities of ice and other obstruc- 
lions in it, we concluded it would be time and labor lost to make 
a raft and attempt a crossing there. Our resolution to follow 
on up stream, keeping close to the water's edge until morning, 
^ras then fixed. If we failed to find a canoe or other means of 
crossing before that time we were then to resort to other meas- 
ures to get us out of our difficulties. 

After our minds were fully made up as to the course we 
should pursue we traveled about two and a half or three miles, 
when Sutherland and I, who were considerably in advance, espied 
a canoe fastened to the shore with a chain and padlock. We 
were almost overjoyed at the discovery. We could not wait for 
our associates to come up, but followed back down stream to 
meet them. They were soon informed that we had found a canoe, 
but they were almost incredulous. In a few minutes, however, 
all doubts wer^ removed, as they beheld with their own eyes 


the object of oar anxious and careful search. We felt as jubi- 
lant and hopeful as if deliverance from all our troubles was just 
at hand ; but, in the excitement of the moment, we did not for- 
get to exercise caution. It was evident the canoe had not been 
used for several days; the oar was lying in it, frozen in the ice, 
which had thawed but little; the ice near the middle of the 
canoe, where the oar was lying, was about three inches thick. In 
loosening the oar and breaking the chain which secured the eanoe, 
much noise would be made. It was necessary to have two or 
three rails or poles. Smith and I went out some distance from 
the river to procure them, and to see if any house was near. 
We found an old orchard, inclosed by a dilapidated fence. On 
the southern borders of the orchard we found two log huts, but 
they were old and tenantless. 

We returned to the river carrying with us three or four stout 
rails. As we were satisfied we should not be heard we set to 
work regardless of the noise we made. We found the canoe 
was locked or fastened in a large slab of ice, which extended 
beyond it into the swift water. We first used our sheet- iron 
knives and some sharp-pointed and sharp-cornered rocks, and 
loosened the canoe from its icy bed. A passage-way for the 
canoe was next broken through the ice to the current of the 
stream. We then took our stoutest rail and broke the chain by 
prying on it. I took a rail and placed myself in the end of the 
canoe farthest out from the shore. Our haversacks, coats, and 
blankets were then placed in it, and Trippe and Taylor came 
aboard. Trippe, with the oar in hand, launched us out into the 
river. We found a swiftly rushing current, and were compelled 
to row up stream. We kept bearing to our right, however, and 
soon came in contact with the ice, which extended out from the 
opposite bank. I took my rail and began breaking the ice. Soon 
I had broken a narrow passage-way for the canoe, into which we 
thrust it, and it became steady. I kept on breaking the ice and 
pushing the pieces aside. The canoe was pushed nearer and nearer 
the bank. Soon I could reach the low branches of a tree, which 
stood near the water's brink. I held on to the boughs of the 
tree, and walked ashore on the ice. Taylor and I removed our 


baggage from the canoe to the bank. Trippe went to bring over 
our three comrades^ who had been patiently waiting and watch- 
ing. He found some difficulty in entering the passage ^^^7 ^ ^^ 
ueared the bank upon which they stood. In due time our party 
was safely landed on the shore, for which we had been anxiously 
striving the best part of two nights. 

The first great obstacle to our journey was surmounted. We 
felt freer and safer. We were several miles from Danville — at 
least twenty. It was past midnight. The sky above us was per- 
fectly clear. The moon was high in the heavens, and sent down 
rays of silvery light. Northward, in the direction we wished to 
travel, the country appeared clear of timber, and we had hopes 
of finding a good road before going a great distance. When we 
were ready to leave the river this question arose : what shall we 
do with our canoe — tie it up or allow it to float down the river? 
We felt gratefully, even tenderly toward it. It had done us a 
great service. We concluded to lash it fast to the tree, whose 
branches hung low upon the bank. We did so; and left it and 
the river behind us. 

We pushed due northward across the cleared fields. Some 
houses were soon discernible in the moonlight, not far ahead of 
us. Turning a little to the left, we soon reached a point directly 
west of the houses. We heard much noise, and stopped to see 
if we could make out what it meant. We approached a few 
steps nearer, and heard singing and dancing. We thought it 
late for such exercises ; but as it was Saturday night all was 
explained, that night being known in Carolina as negroes' night. 
As we had provisions enough for a meal or two, we did not in- 
terrupt the exercises, or make our presence known to the negroes. 
Nor did we tarry long, as we had no time to lose. We were in 
Carolina, and had many miles to travel and many weary marches 
to make through a bleak mountain country before our escape was 
made good. Our circuit around the houses was continued at a 
safe distance, until we struck a road running south-east and 
north-west. We turned to our left and followed the road north- 
west a little more than a mile. As we felt somewhat hungry, 
we halted among some bushes at tJie road side and eat a few 


pieces of corn-bread. After eating, we pushed on, feeling much 
refreshed. In a short time we came to a cross-road, when we 
changed ^ur course and went due north. In that direction we 
traveled until day-break. A safe hiding-place for the day was 
next in order, and we set about finding it. We went into the 
woods some distance to the left of the road, where we found 
quite a cluster of cedar bushes, in the midst of which we thought 
we could safely spend the Sabbath day, February 2l8t. Our 
bed was at once made and we gladly laid ourselves down to slum- 
ber soundly. 

It was near three o'clock in the evening when we awoke. 
On looking about us in all directions, and seeing nobody, we got 
tip. We ventured to a branch, nearly a hundred yards distant, 
and washed our faces. The canteen and bucket were filled with 
v^ater and brought near where we had been sleeping. Our toilet 
vras completed by combing our hair, after which we sat down 
and eat the last of our provisions. How we should procure 
another supply became the subject of discussion. Various plans 
vrere proposed ; one of which we determined to try. If it failed 
ure were, of course, to resort to another. The late hours of the 
evening were passed in adverting to the good fortune which had 
Attended us so far on the trip. The possibilities and probabilities 
af the future were also alluded to. 

As we became deeply interested in our talk the time passed 
quickly. The tall forest-trees cast long shadows over us. The 
aun was disappearing in the west. The sky was cloudless. Our 
preparations for the third night of travel were complete. Soon 
after dusk we emerged from our hiding place, and in due time 
were upon the road. Our rest during the day had been refresh- 
ing, and we walked briskly forward. We passed one house early 
in the night. It was too early, we thought, to try our plan for 
procuring food, and the appearance of the house and its sur- 
roundings did not justify the belief that the occupants had any 
food to spare. So we passed on. Near ten o'clock we came to 
another house on our left. It was near the road, not more than 
twenty yards distant. From appearances all inside were asleep. 
At least no light was visible, and silence reigned. At most of 


the houses we had passed, the dogs had barked at us. It was 
not so at this one. We went a few yards beyond the house and 
halted in the road. Five of us were to lie in wait, while the 
sixth went forth on the errand of necessity. Which one of us 
should go upon the errand was a question for decision. It was 
decided by drawing cuts. Taylor was chosen to attempt the ex- 
periment. Taylor's overcoat was of a light-gray color, and had 
once belonged to a Confederate soldier. Smith's cap was also of 
''secesh" antecedents. Taylor donned them both, and was to 
play the Confederate soldier on furlough. He was to go to the 
front door of the house and knock. When the door was opened 
to him, if he was asked to come in he was to decline on the pre- 
text of not having time. He was then to apply for something 
to eat, enough for himself and two comrades a supper that night 
and breakfast the next morning, which would suffice for one meal 
for our party. He was to insist on immediate compliance to tlie 
request on the plea that he and his comrades were hungry and 
obliged to march all night. If asked why so? he was to answer 
that they had been home on furlough^ that their time was nearly 
out, and that they must report to the company by a certain time— 
we had anticipated many questions that we judged would be 
asked, and had answers to suit. 

After we had drilled Taylor for a few minutes at the road 
side, and found him to be a hungry soldier, with nothing Con- 
federate about him except his overcoat and cap, he started to the 
house. Our eyes followed him as long as he could be seen. We 
then retired from the road to the fence and waited about twenty 
minutes, until Taylor returned and made report. He entered 
the yard in front of the house and approached the door. Before 
reaching the door his heart suddenly failed of its purpose. He 
felt himself unequal to the emergency. He immediately turned 
to his left to examine a smoke-house or other out-house, in 
which he hoped to find something that would do to eat. The 
door was securely fastened, which fact caused him to suspect 
there were some provisions inside. The house was constructed 
of round logs, and Taylor reached his arm through the space 
between them to see if he could feel any meat. He examined 


carefully on each side, but his arm was too short. He could feel 
nothiug. In the mean time, his attention was attracted to another 
out-buildingy and he went ,to examine it. He passed the dwell- 
ingi leaving it between him and the road. His search was still 

While examining the second out-house he noticed a stable or 
shed about sixty yards distant. By going to it he would be still 
farther from the dwelling, and he would feel safer while prose- 
cuting his search. As a last resort before going to the dwelling, 
he visited the stable in the hope of finding some corn, upon 
which we would have subsisted in preference to running too 
great a risk in procuring more palatable food. He could find 
no corn in the stable, nor grain of any kind. There was some 
hay or straw, and a lot of corn-blades tied in bundles. In a shed 
adjoining the stable were six or seven horses feeding on corn- 
blades. Taylor was impressed with the idea that they were 
cavalry horses, and on farther examination a saddle or rig for 
each of the horses was found. He then determined not to visit 
the dwelling at all, as it was certain there was half a dozen or 
more men, perhaps cavalry-men, inside of it, sheltering for the 
night. He then quietly rejoined us at the road side. We had 
run a great risk; our escape had been narrow. Had Taylor 
gone half a dozen steps nearer the house he would have walked 
on some plank or slabs in front of the door; his footfalls might 
have been heard by those inside, and his presence become known. 
It was manifest that good fortune was still a companion of our 
journey. Had the plan we had devised been followed our re- 
capture would certainly have ensued. 

It was yet early in the night — near eleven o'clock — :and we 
determined to put several miles between those cavalry-men and 
our stopping-place in the morning. Before starting, however, 
we held a short parley as to the propriety of taking the horses 
and riding them until day-break. On the question of taking the 
horses our party was about equally divided. The views of those 
who opposed the project prevailed. The chief objection to it was 
the great and necessary risk, at the time, in getting the horses 
^o the road without disturbing their owners, and that in case 


we were retaken, and found guilty of horse-stealing or other 
depredations, it might go hard with us. By the light of the 
moon we discovered we had made numerous foot-prints in the 
road. We could not obliterate them without taking time, and 
leaving even plainer traces behind us. So we walked backward 
several yards on the road. On the north of the road were open 
woods. We stepped aside from the road a few yards and walked 
parallel with it, fa.ce foremost, through the woods, where we could 
make no tracks. On going about a mile we crossed to the op- 
posite side of the road. In so doing we went south, but left 
tracks in the road as though we had gone north. We walked 
rapidly through the woods near the road until we had gone 
another mile, which brought us to fields. As the walking was 
not good in the fields on account of the moist clay, we took the 
road and hurried forward. At short intervals we went on the 
double-quick. By midnight we had traveled ten or eleven miles. 
More than one-third of the distance had been gone over since 
we had found the cavalry horses. Our speed had been acceler- 
ated by that discovery. We were much wearied, and halted at 
a fence near the road side to rest. We were hungry, and would 
have eaten something, but our haversacks were empty, and hang- 
ing loosely at our side. Our rest was brief, but sufficiently long 
to stififen our knee and ankle joints. 

Our journey was resumed, and we trudged on slowly at first, 
but soon increased our speed. There were but few houses near 
the road, and these we passed with cautious steps. A second 
attempt to get rations was not made that night, as we were fear- 
ful of making a second failure, and losing time besides. We 
resolved to wait until the morrow, and trust to luck or Provi- 
dence to feed us. The road improved as we advanced, and we 
made good progress. It bore a little north of west. On cross- 
ing a branch we halted and 'xx)k up some water in our half- 
moon tin-bucket and drank freely. We then filled our canteen 
and bucket with water and carried it with us. We were ex- 
ceedingly tired', and did not wish to take the time and trouble 
to look out for a hiding-place convenient to water. The gray 
light of morning was faintly appearing in the east, and we knew 


our journeying must cease for a time. Our sense of hunger had 
subsided, or been overcome by weariness. We left the road and 
went some distance south of it into a heavy forest. When nearly 
a mile from the road we halted, and quickly spread our bed upon 
the ground. We then sank wearily to rest, and were sleeping 
soundly before sunrise. 

It was on the morning of February 22d that we had thus 
sought repose in the wintery forest of Virginia. We had got out 
of Carolina soon after crossing Dan Biver, and had traveled al- 
most due northward until we passed Martinsville, Henry county, 
Virginia. We passed about two miles to the right of Martins- 
ville, and then bore a little west of north. On February 22 d 
we were hid not many miles — probably not more than a night b 
march — ^from the southern boundary of Franklin county, Vii*- 
gmia. It was the anniversary of Washington's birth. We r<i- 
membered the fact, and revered the memory of Washington, 
although his native State had tendered us a very poor and mea- 
ger hospitality, and was treating us shabbily. The forest of 
Virginia, however, protected us from her own and our country's 



WHEN the sun was nearly an hour high, we were aroused 
from our slumbers by a loud and incessant racket in the 
woods. We did not uncover our heads at first. A squad of 
cavalry-men was the first thing of which we thought, but on un- 
covering our heads and raising up on our elbows, we found i(» 
was the noise of wood choppers that had disturbed us. Wu 


livoked all around us, but could see nobody. The chopping con- 
tinued, and from the noise we judged several axes were being 
used. We at once concluded that a party of negroes were at 
work not far from us, and that we would have an opportunity 
of procuring supplies. The prospect pleased us. Had we known 
our conclusion was correct we should have been in an ecstasy of 

About one hundred yards south of us was a high ridge ex- 
tending east and west. East of us, about seventy yards distant, 
was another ridge or spur putting out due northward from the 
main ridge. We judged from the sounds that the wood choppers 
were east of us and the ridge last described. By consent of 
our party, Sutherland and I got out of bed and walked east- 
wardly to the ridge, striking it not far from the point where it 
was lost in the level ground. We then crept along on our hands 
and feet, keeping close together so that we could talk to each 
other and be understood without speaking loudly. Soon we got 
around the point of the ridge to a thicket of brush, where we 
halted. We could see the colored folks at work, plying their 
axes vigorously. We waited and watched anxiously a few min- 
utes, to see if any whites were with them. We saw none, and 
were glad of it ; we returned to our comrades and made report. 
We were in a blissful state of mind, and comforted ourselves on 
the cheering prospect before us. Our feelings no doubt were 
similar to those of weary travelers in the desert on approaching 
an oasis. 

Our determination to consult with the negroes, and make 
overtures for food and such other assistance as they could give, 
was soon made. It was agreed that Sutherland and I should go 
upon this delicate mission. We went, and soon reached the point 
from which we had watched the negroes before. We again 
watched them closely, and assuring ourselves that no whites were 
near, we emerged from the thicket, and walked briskly toward 
them. As we approached one of the negroes noticed us. He 
immediately called the attention of the others to us. Instantly 
all chopping ceased, and quiet succeeded. At the same moment 
we halted, and Sutherland put his hand to his mouth and asked 



if any whites were about? The negro tiearesi us answered, ''No, 
sah ; massa was hedi dis noornin', but he^done gone bome^now/^ 
We then advanced to the fires, around whick the negroes had 
collected to the number of ten or a dozen?, large and smallv • Our 
wants were immediately im^eknowtti to them;*.. They were 
quite willing, even anxioua to respond to our call for food. They 
oflfered to divide with us at noon, when "missus" brought their 
dinner out. We told them they would not hav« enough to spare, 
as there were six of - ua^ and we were very hungl^^ The oldest 
negro or "boss hand,'!.im he was called^ then sent one of the 
younger ones to bring us something to eat; The negroes were 
all deeply interested in us, and were anxious^^ to karn where our 
four comrades were hid. We told them, and inquired if that 
was a safe place. We were informed it was safe enough, 'but 
there was a better place south of it, across the ndge. We told 
the boss we would cross the ridge and look out a good hiding- 
place. He promised. to bring our dinner ^ to us as soon as it was 
brought to him where he was at work. 

Suth'erland and I then returned io our comrades and in- 
formed them it would not be long until we should have some- 
thing to eat. In accordance with the advice received from our 
colored friends we gathered our things and moved across the 
ridge. We had passed the summit of the ridge and were goings 
down its southern declivity when we came to a bench x)r level 
place, where we concluded< to stop and make our bed. We had 
intended to go to the level ground near the base of the ridge, but 
on reaching the bench we knew of no reason why we should not 
stop there for the remainder, of the day. We made our bed 
anew, and then washed our hands and faces/ using the water 
from our bucket and canteen for that purpose. We then seated 
ourselves upon our bed, and quietly awaited the approach of thf* 
" boss " with our dinner. We had waited a short time, probably 
a half hour, when we saw him with a large bucket in hand near 
the base of the ridge hunting for us. One of our party rolled a 
small stone down hill toward him to let him know where w^ 
were. He soon discovered us, and climbed the hiU«-side, and de- 
livered to us our dinner. We began eating immediately, and 


found we had been bountifully provided for. A bucket full of 
eatables, consisting of fried ham, fried eggs; boiled beans, and corn- 
dodgers, was furnished us. We had a keen relish for such fare, 
and devoured it alL When we had finished eating, the negro 
took his bucket and returned to his work; first telling us lie 
would see us again in the evening. Our appetites were fully 
satisfied, and we covered ourselvesr in our bed add went to sleep. 

We had slept but a short time before our rest was disturbed 
by a considerable noise. It was the noise of cavalry-men, without 
doubt, we thought, or of horses Tunning at their utmost speed. 
We uncovered our heads and tahed them slightly. On looking 
southward we saw two hounds pass near the base of the ridge. 
They ran swiftly, and were hot in pursuit of game. They were 
closely followed by three or four white* citizens on- horseback. 
The hounds and horsemen were soon out of hearing, and we felt 
greatly relieved. Just then the excitement of the chase was not 
agreeable to us; We were heartily glad we were not the objects 
of pursuit* Had we gone to the level ground, at the base of the 
ridge, before halting, as was at firsrt intended, we would most 
likely have placed ourselves directly on the trail. The result to 
us in that case would have been unfortunate. As our hiding- 
place was on the steep ^de of the ridge, almost surrounded' by 
small trees a^d brash, we thought it a safe one, and again gave 
ourselves over to rest. We ^lept well until late in the day. 
When we awoke the first object almost which met our vision 
was our colored benefactor sitting near us whittling a stick. 
He informed us we should have another meal at dusk. We told 
him any thing good to eat would be acceptable to us, and place 
us under lasting obligations to those who furnished it. We told 
him, too, that we had some Confederate money, and would buy 
as much provisions as ho could deliver to ud at dark, if it was 
not more than we could carry. He promised to see if we could 
be supplied, and told us to come up where they were at work 
after sunset. 

As the day was already far spent, we began to fit up for 
another night's journey. On completing our preparations, we 
waited a few minutes longer for the sun to disappear in the 


west. Soon it had shed its hist ray over us for the day, and we 
picked up onr things and started from our retreat. By the twi- 
light we made our way through the woods to the place where 
the negroes had been at work daring the day. Jnst before dark 
we reached them. They had ceased from their laWrs and were 
expecting ns. Some froit pies fried in grease were furnished us 
for supper. While we were eating, the negroes asked what kind 
of provisions we could carry most of, or most conveniently. We 
told them we could do best on meat, salt, and meal. Two or 
three of them then went to bring us a supply of those articles. 
In due time they returned with a ham of meat, a little salt, half 
a bushel of meal, and half a dozen corn-dodgers. Wood had with 
him a clean pillow-slip, brought from the hospital. In it we pi.t 
the corn-meal. The ham was cut in pieces and put in our havei^- 
sacks. The salt was carried by one of our party in a blouiie 

On setting out we had the corn-dodgers, for which there wa5 
no room in our haversacks; and as, on account of their size, we 
could not get them into our blouse pockets without breaking 
them, we carried them in our hands until midnight. The ham 
had cost the negroes three dollars a pound, and it weighed twelve 
pounds and a half. We paid them thirty-seven dollars and fifty 
cents for it in Confederate shin-plaster. For the meal, salt, corn- 
bread, and what we had eaten during the day, we gave them 
twenty-two dollars and fifty cents. We paid them sixty dollars 
in all. It was not necessary, they did not exact it, but we had 
the scrip and were made no poorer by parting with it. It was 
current there at the time, and was much below par in the coun- 
try we hoped to reach ere long. 

We conversed briefly with the colored people before leaving 
them. We learned from them that we had traveled twenty-three 
miles the previous night, and that it was about forty miles to 
Rocky Mount Court-House, in Franklin county. It was growing- 
late. The moon had risen, and was advancing in its 'course. 
Every hour of the night was precious to us and must be im- 
proved. We expressed to our benefactors our obligations. We 
thanked them heartily and sincerely. We told them they had 


no idea of the value of the service they had performed. It was 
a service to us; it was also a service to the cause in which we 
had struggled and suffered much. We could not pay them ade- 
quately, but hoped in the end they would have their reward in 
the results of the war. 

We bade them good-night and left them, and sought the road 
immediately; on reaching it we could but contrast our feelings 
with those we had experienced on leaving it early in the morn- 
ing. Our minds were at perfect ease on the question of supplies, 
as our pillow-slip was full, our haversacks were fuU^ and each 
of us had a corn-dodger in his hand besides. We thought we 
should make a long stride toward our lines before our supplies 
should be exhausted. The meal in the pillow-slip was carried by 
turns. As we had eaten a great deal during the day we did not 
feel like walking rapidly. We put in the whole time, however, 
until after midnight, when we stopped to rest and eat some 
bread. A few minutes' rest sufficed, and we resumed our travels. 

As no incident in our travels particularly interesting, or 
worthy of record, transpired for two or three nights or days, we 
pass on to the events of a subsequent date. We will say, first, 
that during the interval of time over which we pass without 
noting every circumstance of our journey, we were very cautious. 
In the night-time, while passing houses near the road, we main- 
tained the strictest silence. We walked carefully, and even then 
the dogs often discovered us, and made the night dismal with 
their howling. We made it a rule not to allow daylight to find 
us upon the road; but before we go much farther in our narra- 
tive we will give an instance in which it did so find us. The 
first rays of the sun generally shone upon us in our bed asleep. 
During our waking hours in day-time, when hid in the lonely 
woods, we were careful not to talk, or laugh out boisterously, 
knowing the liability to be heard at a distance. We did not 
stand up or walk about a great deal. When we had supplies 
there was no occasion to incur risks, or purposely come in con- 
tact with any persons, black or white. We always hid, if pos- 
sible, where water would be convenient to us. We had fire in 
day-time with which to broil our meat and make mush. During 


the day we prepared our midnight lunch. When we were in s 
secure retreat for the day. we generally. prepared a quantity of 
mush, for fear our hiding-place next day would be in a place 
too much exposea to admit of fire or smoke. In all our move- 
ments we tried to exercise the utmost caution. As the distance 
between us and our prison became greater we became, if possible, 
more cautious. The farther we got from prison the greater 
would be our disappointment in being oaught and taken back. 

The early morning of Febru^y '24th found us up(m the road, 
which led through an open country. Cleared and fenceless lands 
bordered it on either side.: We pushed on, in the hope of reach- 
ing woods, until broad daylight. At length the rays of the 
rising sun began to illuminate the face of Nature. We were 
then obliged to leave the public highway. The road had led us 
northward the last two nights, and still led us m that direction. 
We looked to our right, where the lands were hilly or a little 
broken. We went in that direction, thinking we could hide be- 
hind a knoll, or rising ground. Soon we gained a point or crest, 
from which the ground sloped gently to the east. A hundred 
yards or more ahead of us we saw the tops of scattering trees 
projecting above a bluff. We pressed on, and soon stood upon a 
precipice, and looked beyond it, over a narrow wooded valley. 
We clambered half-way down the precipice to hide among the 
rocks. We had laid oux blankets, haversacks, and bag of meal 
aside. We were going to make our bed, but found the space in 
which we stood was not large enough for all of us. We would 
be hampered by the rocks. Smith ajnd I had unrolled our 
blankets; Sutherland, Wood, Trippe, and Taylor had gone a 
little farther down among the rocks to find more room. Abput 
the same time we saw a smoke rising through the trees in the 
valley. We were sure a house was there, although we could not 
see it. It was south-east of us, apparently half, a mile distant. 

We were about beginning the preparations for our daily rest 
when the noise of an ax resounded in our ears.. The npise was 
so unexpected and so uear us that we were startW, and at first 
looked around \jr*dly, and in amaze. We soon recovered from 
the shocks of astonishment and surprise, and peered cautiously 



around the rocks And looked below us. Not more than a hundred 
yards from us, in the woods near the base of the precipice, we 
saw a single white man wielding his ax. His dog was near him. 
Oh account of the dog we lay low. If he had got a glimpse of 
us hii master would have become aware of our presence. We 
could not make our. bed; we could da nothing but keep still. 
Smith and I had neax ua all the blankets, and all the provisions 
belonging . to our party. Our XKMarades were about thirty feet 
below us, almost under us. : Smith ventured to drop their blankets 
tO; them, alter which we all kept quiet. Wjb slept but little. As 
long as the vax was used we felt no fear of being seen by the 

. man, but every half hour we peered out from the rocks to see 
if the dog was near him. 

: : . About noon, or a little later, the man ceased chopping. We 
thought we should i have a short respite, while the man went to 
dinner^ and wouldirembraca that opportunity to eat our own. 
We looked out to see him leaving. We -were greatly disap- 
pointed. .< A woman^**-hiA! wife perhaps — ^had brought his dinner 
to him, and he was eatingk > She was accompanied by another 
dog. . Ther two dogS: then pranced and prowled about in the 
rwoodft, eokd w<0 watched . them closely. We were fearful they 
would go around, and get above and behind us, but they did not 
do so.: We were in a very restless and impatiebt mood; each 
moment seemed an hour almost; We would have: parted with 
jewels,. if we had possessed them, to have been away from there. 
Whm the man had finished eating, the. woman took her bucket 
and went>away^ Allowed by the. dogs. We were highly pleased 
to ^know the. dogs were gone, for they had annoyed us greatly. 
Thei man resumed his toil unconscious of our presence. As he 
chopped almost incessantly ,^ and could, therefore, look around 
hut little, we felt a little safer. Smith and I opened our haver- 
eacks and took out some meat • <We cut off a few tiiin slices and 
Bprlnkled;^heia with meaL. On raw. meat and meal we made our 

.dinner. . While. ;eating. Smith and X exhibited ourselves to our 
oomrades below us. They looked up wishfully, and signified 

.their -desire to eat. As Smith and I had all the commissary 
.fit<»»s we continued eating, to tantalize our comrades. At length 


we put some meal and a chunk of meat in a haversack and 
dropped it to them. 

The day had been a long one to us. Our rest had not been 
refreshing. We were in constant apprehension and suspense. 
The loss of sleep and comfort, in consequence of having no bed, 
had its effect upon our bodies. We felt chilled and sore, and we 
longed for the approach of night. Near four o'clock, P. M., the 
wood chopper ceased from toil and went off with his ax on his 
shoulder. Erelong the sun went down, and, as soon as we got 
every thing ready, we climbed the precipice and went directly to 
the road. Early in the night we found we were about entering 
the suburbs of a town. It was Rocky Mount Court-House, Frank- 
lin county. We approached it on a road which bore a little west 
of north. We fell back a few paces and began our circuit around 
the place. On leaving the road we first climbed a fence and 
went across the corner of an inclosed tract of timber lands. We 
then climbed a second fence and entered open fields, in which we 
continued until the road north-west of the place was reached. In 
making our circuit we were guided by the lights in the town, 
which were yet burning. Near midnight we halted and eat 
some meal and meat, upon which, with an occasional swallow of 
water, we made a respectable supper. 

On the morning of February 25th, as on the previous morn- 
ing, we were in an open country. At daylight we looked ahead 
of us on the road, but saw no woods. A house, however, was 
discernible in the distance. As we dared not pass it, we left the 
road which had been leading us westward. South of the road, 
about half a mile, we saw a space of ground covered over with 
numerous rocks, large and small. To it we directed our steps, 
in the hope that the rocks would afford us shelter for the day. 
We soon reached the place, but did not much like it, and were 
loath to remain in its inadequate protection. But as the sun was 
up, we could not look for a better or more secure hiding-place 
without incurring even greater risks than there would be in 
making our bed, and keeping it during the day, where we were. 
We cleared the small rocks from a space sufficiently large for our 
oed and spread it upon the ground. We then lay down to sleep. 


Our heads were near the base of a large rock which was between 
us and the road we had left a few moments before, and it hid us 
from view in that direction. To our right and left and at our 
feet were many rocks of smaller size, which partially concealed us 
as long as we lay low. On lying down we looked all around us, 
but scarcely a tree or bush was visible. Nothing but a waste of 
barren ground with an undulating and rocky surface could be 
seen. South of us, perhaps a little west, and nearly a mile dis- 
tant, was higher ground. Beyond and above it, a few of the top- 
most bi-anches of the tallest trees projected. The chief feature of 
the country immediately surrounding us was barrenness and 
nakedness. We could not resist the impression that our hiding- 
place was poorly chosen. A feeling of insecurity crept over us. 
The primeval forest of Virginia, with only the exception of the 
previous day, had hitherto protected us from the view of the 
rebellious citizens of the State. Near three hours of undisturbed 
repose was granted us. 

Near ten o'clock, A. M., we were awakened by a clattering 
noise. Taylor looked out cautiously and discovered it was made 
by a wagon passing over a stony road. It was not on the road 
we had left in the morning, but on one just west of us, which 
crossed or intersected it. It was nearly two hundred yards from 
us. The man in the wagon was driving north-east, having come 
on the road from the south-west. On stopping in the morning 
we had not noticed the road, as the surface of the ground was a 
little broken, and many rocks and knolls intervened between it 
and ourselves. It had washed and worn considerably below the 
level of the ground. On finding we were so near a public high- 
way, we felt uneasy, and still more dissatisfied with our hiding-* 
place. We did not leave it yet, however, as the wagon had 
passed on out of hearing. 

We again essayed to sleep. We fell into a kind of dozing 
sleep, from which we were soon aroused by the hum of voices. 
We looked westward and saw several persons, mostly women and 
children, walking on the road. They were a great while passing, 
it seemed to us, and were disposed to loiter by the way. We 
felt in an exceedingly disagreeable and unsafe position. At 


bngih tii0 hum cf ▼oiees died away and we tried to feel al ease, 
but ooold noL Verj soon another zmttling on tlie stony roao 
disturbed oar eqoanimitj and patience. We looked and saw a 
cart on the road driven by a negra It was a one-horse concern, 
and was followed by a white man cm horseback. We judged we 
were not fiEur from town, and resolved to flee our hiding-place, 
for fear some strollers, or home guards, or somebody should come 
upon us and report us, and take measures to recapture us. 

We waited and watdied until nearly noon, when, conduding - 
there would be no passing on the road, we put our things in 
convenient shape for our first day-time traveling. Just as we 
had completed our {Mr^arations, we looked westward and north- 
ward to see if any persons were upon the road. We saw none. 
We immediately started southward, bearing slightly to our left. 
We did not run, but walked rapidly, without looking behind us. 
When we bad gone about a mile, we reached a point finom which 
we could look down an inclined plane into woods. We halted 
and looked all around us, but saw no one. We judged we had 
not been seen, and deemed our movement a successful one. We 
were glad to see woods once more, and pushed on until we stood 
in the midst of forest-trees. 

We sat down on a large rock to rest and watch awhile. We 
were on a wooded hill-side, which sloped gently to the south-west. 
Trippe got up from his seat and went in a south-east course on 
the hill-side, to look for a place in which to hide. He was gone 
some time, and we became impatient for his return. We did not 
wish to leave the place where be had left us until he came back, 
as he would not know where to find us. Nearly a half hour 
•passed before we saw Trippe xeturning. He was walking slowly 
and hesitatingly. .He occasionally looked back in the direction he 
bad gone. Before he reached us we discovered something wrong 
had happened ; or if nothing wrong, something at least which we 
would rather had not transpired. 

Trippe was vexed and almost spiritless. He had been re- 
captured once, and now he thought hia time had come to be 
.caught again and taken back to prison* He told us the cause 
of his diaooufagement.. He had gone, south-east of us, an eighth 


of a mile,; or more, along the hill-side. He had turned directly 
south to go dowa hilly when .he saw a man clad in ^^ butternut" 
coming up hilL Trippe thought, and hoped, he had not been 
noticed by the citizen, and stood still to see if he would pass. 
The citizen came, on up hilh His foot dipped, and he caught 
hold of a little tree to keep from facing. In getting around 
and above the tree his head turned slighUy,. and he noticed 
Trippe, about twenty steps from him. As soon as he xecovered 
from his surprise he approached Trippe, and asked what he was 
doing there. Trippe said he was just looking through the woods a 
little^ Other questions were asked, and answered by each party. 
Trippe tried at first to equivocate, but found it useless, as his 
uniform was plainly that of a. Federal soldier. He told the 
citizen he had been a priscmer at Danville^ and with others was 
trying to. make his way. to the Union lines. He also told him 
where we were, and how many there were of us in all. The 
citizen feigned sympathy, with Trippe, and expressed a hope that 
he would get home all right. Trippe had very little faith in 
him-L He advised Trippe not to fight any more against the 
South, and at the same time offered his hand, Trippe took the 
hand in his owu with. not the slightest confidence in its possessor. 
The Bebel pledged to Trippe his. word and honor not to lay a 
straw in his .path, and immediately turued and went dii^ectly 
back on his traU. Trippe watched him, and soon saw that he 
hurried himself, as if suddenly imbued with a new purpose. 

When Trippe related the circumstance to us we became in- 
tent on getting away from there, as quickly and as far as possi- 
ble. We placed no reliance in the promise of the Confederate 
not to lay a straw in our path, but thought he would take 
measures to interpose greater obstacles in the way <(>f our prog- 
ress. Our t things being already in compact mjurching order, 
we started, immediately. The meal in, the pillow-slip, though not 
heavy, ieing more. tha» two-thirda used, was all the surplus 
thing we had, .to carry. All else was in our haversacks. We 
i went. 8outii-:ea5t> and soon reached the spot where the dtizen had 
been encountered by Trippe. : We then turned to our right and 
.went so»thrwest. On; reaching the base of the ridge we found 


W6 would emerge from the woods and cross cleared lands, in a 
narrow valley, or change our course. There was no time for 
debate, and we pushed ahead. 

Near the outskirts of the woods two little boys and a little 
girl were playing. As we parsed, the largest boy cried out, 
"Uncle Jim has gone &r the guards to catch you uns with." 
We hurried forward, scarcely taking time to thank the children 
for the information. If we had to be hunted we were glad to 
know it. A short distance ahead of us was a house. We passed 
near it, leaving it a little to our right. When we were just 
opposite the house, a woman came to the door and exhorted us 
to hurry. She said her brother-in-law was a " mean man," and 
had gone to report us to the home guards. As time was gold to 
us just then, we did not halt, but heeded the exhortation so 
earnestly given. As we crossed the branch which traversed the 
narrow valley we heard the woman say her husband had been 
killed in the war. She talked on, but we were soon out of 

As we approached the upland, on the opposite side of the 
valley, we began to think about obscuring our trail. We noticed 
where a hollow, or ravine, entered the valley from the wooded 
hill-side. We got into the hollow and followed on its rocky bed, 
where we made no tracks, until we got some distance into the 
woods. A portion of the time we went on the double-q^uick, and 
sometimes, when on level ground or going down hill, we went 
even more rapidly. It was two o'clock, or a little later in the 
day, when we first halted to listen for "Uncle Jim" and his 
guards. We did not hear them, nor did we wish to; so we 
pressed on. We had so far traveled three miles or more, mostly 
in a western direction. 

A point had been reached from which we could look across 
fields and open country in all directions, except south, south- 
west, and east — the course we should take in retracing our steps. 
As we did not wish to cross fields, or go back on our trail, we 
turned southward. In that direction we proceeded until we had 
gone over a mile, when we turned to our right, and again pushed 
rapidly westward, through a heavy wood. Soon we came to a 


branch of clear running water. As we were tired we concluded 
we would wade in the water, following the stream down, and 
thus obscure our trail. As we had made tracks in the wet soil 
near the branch on approaching it,' we pushed on across it, going 
some distance until the solid ground was reached. We then got 
back to the branch, walking on scattering rocks, sticks, and logs, 
so as to leave no traces behind us. If the guards were on our 
trail, we hoped, when they reached the branch, they would cross 
it, and push on westward as speedily as possible. 

We followed down stream in a south-west course for more 
than a mile. When in the water we traveled at a moderate gait, 
as the branch traversed a very narrow, thickly wooded valley, 
and we could not be seen at a distance. A point on the branch 
was at length reached where a road crossed it. The road had 
the appearance of being traveled a great deal, and we looked up 
and down it to see if any body could be seen. On seeing no one 
we crossed to the south of the road, still wading in the water. 
After getting a short distance into the woods, south of the road, 
we left the branch and pushed rapidly westward. Our feet had 
become wet, and we resorted to brisk walking to get our socks 
dry. We would have taken time to take our socks off and wring 
the water from them, but, should the guards come upon us, we 
did not wish to be barefooted. 

Our flight was continued until sunset. We had intended 
traveling on a line parallel with the road, but found it necessary 
to bear southward occasionally to avoid crossing open fields. 
When the sun had gone down we called a halt. The country 
was very rough and broken where we halted ; heavy woods and 
brushy undergrowth were all around us on all the hill-sides. 
We took refuge in a thicket, near a considerable bluff. No sounds 
of pursuers could be heard; every thing was still. We rested 
well, and slept a little. . Our feet were worsted by the wetting 
they had received and our subsequent rapid walking. On a few 
scraps of meat dipped in meal we made a scanty supper. We 
dared not build a fire after dark or we would have made some 
mush and taken a fuller meal. 

Before the moon arose it was very dark. We waited half an 

l6 A BTORY OP 1:HB WAS, ; 

hour or more for its appearance above the horizon. At length 
its light ^one dimly through the woods. The sky was ^ little 
clouded and the woods were dense, but the moon served tO' guide* 
us upon our course, if its light did shine imperfectly and at in- 
tervals. We gathered our things and started. We steered 
northward. When obliged to turn aside,- or vary from that 
course, we varied to the west. Many difficulties beset ua. Our 
hurried march in the' day had considerably taxed our powers of 
endurance; our rest at dark was briefs only bng enough for 
our limbs to stiflfen; our feet were sore;' we were huttgiy^ 'our 
ha^ty meal at* dark had not sufficed. It wad the first we had 
eaten since midnight of the night before, on getting ■ around 
Rocky Mount Court- House. The country was hilly7'we got 
over and down one hill only to be^n the ascent of another; 
the woods were dark> and logs and brush obstructed our path- 
way and impeded our progress. We persevered, howevin*, and 
pressed on. One of our party went in advance and pushed the: 
brush aside; the other five of us followed just behind him, in 
"close order.** 

Fully an hour passed before we emerged from the brush and 
woods into more open ground. We climbed a fence and crossed 
a field. On getting out of the field we struck a road running 
east and west. We followed it at a moderate gait until we had 
gone a mile, when we reached a cross-road. We then turned to 
our right and went due north. On going two miles or more we 
called a halt. We were much fatigued; nearly worn down, in 
fact, and, besides, we were fttint and hungry: The road we were' 
following seemed not to be much traveled. We had passed wy 
house since dark. We had stopped on the x'oad, where it was 
winding along the side of a ridge, which was heavily wooded: 
We determined to look for a retreat where we could rest awhile,^ 
build a fire, and make some mush; We left the road and w-ent 
up hill west of it. Soon we gained the top of the hill or ridge. 
We then went down the hill on its western slope,- and in the 
bushes near the foot of it we halted. The noise of rippling bf 
running waters could be distinctly heard. Two of out party 
took our canteen and bucket and went to fill them. While they 


were gone we built a fire. A blanket wad nmrolkd and sjiread': 
on the basbea above the fireu .to partially c(HiC6al' its' light/ Our 
buoket waa then made three times AiU of mu^h. Smali> thin 
slices and bits ctf meat were out off and put in the mush as it 
was cookii^.< Soon our hunger was appeased, and <Mir weariness ' 
hung not so heavily upon us. We put up our things, scattered 
our fire, bought the road, and resumed our journey. 

Near midnight, and just after we had crossed a branchy we 
were startled l^ hearing a solitary shot in the woods; We im* 
mediately 'halted; Seemingly the sound of the shot came fl*om 
a point nofc very far ahead of us, but some distance to our left. 
Our first conjecture was that we were in the vicinity of a cavalry 
bivouac. Two or three of our party thought the home guards 
had been posted on the roads, aud were about to hem us in. 
There was no time to be lost in parleying, and we determined- 
to go on slowly and slyly. Before going two hundred yards wo 
came to a turn in the road. The road had been leading us 
northward, but on going around the turn it led us west. -We 
again halted, thinking it was possible there iras a^ guard on the 
road, as it led in the direction from whence the sound of the 
shot had proceeded. Trippe proposed going on a f^w paces to 
see. He did so. We followed him at the distance of fifty or ^ 
sixty paces. In this way we advanced fully half a mile, when 
wo reached a point where the road passed between fields. Trippe 
waited until we came up, when^ he pronounced the road clear, as 
far as pickets Were concerned. 

We then pushed on, and discovered we were about passing a'^ 
house on the left of the road. We checked our speed and passed 
the house with care and celerity. When we had got about 
twenty steps beyond the house, and just as we were becoming 
careless again, the dogs began a lively barking. We proceeded 
a dozen steps further when we noticed the spjurks of a fire flying 
upward; The fire Was about twenty steps ahead of us, on the 
left of the road. It was near the corner' of the rail-fence, where 
the lane terminated. We stopped instantly, but said nothing. 
We watched the fire closely for a moment. The dogs kept up 
their howling* In the light of the fire, which soon blazed up, 


we distinctly saw several covered wagons ahead of us near the 
road side. We knew, or thought at least, that we were about 
ninning into a supply train. We hardly knew what to do. The 
dogs continued barking furiously, and would soon arouse some- 
body, to see what disturbed them. We could not go forward, as 
the guards, or teamsters, with the train would discover us. We 
did not wish to go back by the house, as there was danger of 
being observed by persons within, or about it. There was no 
time for deliberation. We climbed the rail-fence to our right 
on the north of the road. We were careful not to make any 
noise; although the dogs made hubbub enough to drown any 
noise we should make. 

We had left tracks on the road, and found on getting into 
the field that its surface was moist and impressible. We deter- 
mined to make a trail that would mislead any person who might 
have the curiosity to follow us. On reaching a point in the field 
about a quarter of a mile due north of the road we turned east. 
In that direction we traveled half a mile. We then turned 
south and crossed the fence at the corner of the field. On get- 
ting into the road we followed it east nearly a quarter of a mile, 
when we went some distance in a south-east course. By so do- 
ing we got into thick woods where the ground was covered with 
leaves, where we could leave only very indistinct traces behind 
us. We then turned and traveled directly west, keeping parallel 
with the road, and a little more than a quarter of a mile south 
of it. The dogs at the house still kept up their howling ; and 
as the train and those with it were just at hand, we kept off at 
a safe distance. The shot we had heard an hour before, we 
judged had been fired by some one with the train. 

When we had gone far enough, in a western direction, to 
reach a point directly south of the house, where the dogs were 
still barking, we bore considerably to our right, and went north- 
west. We continued in that direction until we struck the road 
some distance west of the wagon train. After going something 
more than a mile further on the road, in a direction a little 
north of west, we halted. It lacked an hour or more of being 
daylight, but as we were very tired, having traveled many miles 


in the last twenty-four hours, we determined to look out for a 
secure hiding-place for the day. We accordingly left the road 
and penetrated some distance into the woods on the north of it. 
Just after crossing a small branch we halted, and made our prep- 
arations for a refreshing sleep. We fell into a sound slumber 
immediately on lying down on our bed. 

About mid-day we awoke and found ourselves very stiff and 
Bore all over. We felt very little like moving about. We had 
pulled off our shoes on lying down, and on getting up we found 
our feet were so very sore that we could hardly get them on 
again. The sky was overcast with clouds, threatening snow. 
Our stock of provisions was getting very low, and other circum- 
stances seemed to conspire in making the woods around us and 
the prospect before us quite cheerless. That we had not fallen 
into the hands of the home guards was the only circumstance 
that afforded us consolation. After getting our shoes on, we set 
about building a fire. We went to the branch near' us and 
washed our hands and faces; afterward feeling some better. 
Our vessels were filled with water at the branch, to be used in 
making mush. When we had dispatched our dinner we had 
some meal left, also a little salt, but no meat. The meal was 
emptied from the pillow-slip and made into mush, which, with 
the exception of the last bucket full made, was put into the 
pillow-slip. The last mush made was left in the bucket. When 
the mush became cold it sliced off nicely, and was ready for our 
midnight meal. 

Shortly after noon one of our party wandered out northward 
from our hiding-place some distance, and spied a man engaged in 
plowing in an old field. It was early in the season, we thought, 
for plowing, but as we had seen plowing near Danville in Janu- 
ary, we knew it was nothing unusual for that country. Suther- 
land and I went out and lay close to the fence which inclosed 
the field, to watch the man who was plowing, and see if we 
could determine whether he was white or black. It so happened 
that he did not plow on out to the fence near which we were 
hid, as a strip of sod or grass land intervened between him and 
the fence. We were somewhat disappointed, as we could not 



make out at that distance whether the man was white or black. 
If we had been assured he was a black man, we would have 
made an effort to procure more food. 

Near the close of the day we went to the branch and bathed 
our feet thoroughly, hoping, if it did not improve them, it would 
keep them from getting sorer than they were already. We then 
lay down and slept about an hour, and on waking we found that 
our blankets and the ground were covered with snow to the 
depth of an inch. We got up and shook the snow from our 
blankets, and put every thing in order for the night's marching. 
Awhile before sunset the snow ceased falling, the clouds began 
to clear away, and the weather was perceptibly cooler. No 
clouds obscured the sun as it shed its last rays over us for the 
day, and sank from view in the west. 

Just at dark we left our hiding-place and went directly to 
the road. It was quite dark, as the moon had not appeared; 
but as our feet were sore, we could only advance slowly any how, 
and we pushed on. In the road, where there were no leaves, the 
snow had melted, making the walking slippery and slavish. 
When the moon arose we walked at the side of the road, and 
got along some better. Early hi the night Taylor began to fall 
behind. Sore feet, we judged, was the cause of his slow prog- 
ress. He fell behind several times, and we waited as often for 
him to come up. We asked him no questions, only supposing 
that his feet were sorer than our own. About ten o'clock, or a 
little later in the night, we struck a pike running north-east and 
south-west. The road we had been following did not cross it. 
As we had to change our course, and as Taylor was some dis- 
tance behind, we waited for him to catch up. When he had 
caught up we waited awhile longer for him to rest. 

On renewing our travels we followed the pike in a north-east 
course toward Lynchburg. Before going very far on the pike, 
we passed one house on the left. We went nearly half a mile 
beyond the house, when we discovered an obscure road leading 
westward. We changed our course, as we wished to reach and 
cross the Blue Ridge Mountains as soon as possible. Taylor had 
kept up with us while following the pike, but again fell behind 


on leaving it. The road was a poor one. Its clay surface had 
been considerably moistened by the melting snow, late in the 
day and early in the night. Before midnight the mud began 
freezing, and it stuck tenaciously to our shoes. The country 
was rough and broken, and the road led us over a succession of 
ridges and hollows. In breaking the frozen crust of mud our 
feet were continually slipping backward or forward, or sideways, 
as we went up and down the hills, making our march extremely 
fatiguing and wearisome. We were obliged to keep the road 
on account of the trees, logs, and brush near it on either side. 
Our way, however, was plain before us, as the road looked black 
in contrast with the snowy woods. 

We trudged on in the difficult and lonely way, and, though 
our progress was slow, Taylor had fallen far behind. Near mid- 
night we were on the point of stopping to eat some mush, but 
concluded to move on slowly for awhile, and give Taylor a chance 
to catch up with us or gain on us. We slackened our pace con- 
siderably, and, on going half a mile, we halted at the road side. 
Taylor had not caught up with us, neither was he in sight or 
hearing. We sat on a log, and waited patiently for his approach. 
Several minutes passed while we were waiting. We took the 
mush from our bucket and cut it in slices ready for eating. While 
80 doing Taylor came dragging himself along the road. We 
called to him, and he turned aside to join us in the woods. He 
was lame and weary. On reaching us he sank almost exhausted 
to the ground, sitting in the snow and placing his back against 
the log upon which we sat. We made no inquiries of Taylor as 
to the cause of his lameness, supposing he could not tell us more 
than we knew already. 

One or two observations were made respecting the bad con- 
dition of the road, after which we began eating our midnight 
lunch. When we had finished eating we gathered our things and 
started. Trippe and I were ahead, and had reached the road 
and gone on it a few steps. Wood and Sutherland were closely 
following us. Sutherland looked back and saw Smith coming, 
but did not see Taylor. Sutherland then asked, '* Smith, where 
is Taylor? an't he coming?" Smith answered, "I thought he 



was following me;" and then looked behind and called aloud, 
"Come on, Taylor." Smith not understanding Taylor's reply, 
went back to him. On being asked why he had not started, 
Taylor said he was unable to go any farther, as his broken leg 
had failed him. Smith at once called to us to come back to the 
place where Taylor was. We did so. It was painfully apparent 
that he could go no farther that night. We learned for the first 
time that he had been wounded in the leg, and had one of its 
bones broken. He was not a Chickamauga prisoner, but had 
been wounded and captured at or near Leesburg, Virginia, in a 
cavalry engagement, early in July, 1863, at the time of the bat- 
tles of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. During our four or five weeks* 
association with him it so happened we had not learned of his 

We at once concluded that our travels for that night were at 
an end, and began looking around for a place in which to lie ovei 
until the following night. When Taylor heard our determina- 
tion he objected, saying he felt sure he would not be able to travel 
by the following night, and might not be able to renew the jour- 
ney for a week. He would not consent that we should remain 
with him until the next night, unless he knew he would be able 
to go on with us by that time. We insisted on waiting with him 
as long as that, as we should lose only three hours' time by so 
doing. Taylor still objected, saying he would not detain us a 
single hour, and if we failed in reaching the lines, it should not 
be laid to his charge. We determined to remain, when Taylor 
assured us he could not travel for at least three or four nights, 
and was unwilling to feel himself responsible for the conse- 
quences that might ensue from so long a detention of our party. 
We then offered to divide our party, to leave two with Taylor, 
and let the other three go on. But he objected to this proposal 
also, saying he would not delay a single one of us, and probably 
be the cause, immediate or remote, of the return of that one to 
prison. He would rather take his chances of ultimately reach- 
ing the lines alone, and feel clear of responsibility for any acci- 
dent or disaster that might overtake us than to do otherwise. 

We had offered fairly, as we thought, and concluding Taylor 


knew the nature and extent of Lis disability much better than 
we didy we determined to leave the case to him. If he said re- 
main, we would cheerfully do so ; or if he said for us to go on 
and leave him behind, we would do that regretfully. Taylor 
then said for us to lofie no time on his account, but to push on 
to the Union lines, and make our escape good. It required but 
a few moments to arrange for resuming our journey, and to ad- 
vise Taylor as to the best course to pursue; to say to him the 
parting good-by, and leave him behind. The mush in the pillow- 
slip, all the provisions we had, except a little salt, was then 
taken out and divided into six parts. The largest part was given 
to Taylor. The other five parts were put in our haversacks. 
Nearly or quite half of the scrip on hand was given him, as he 
was going to tarry awhile in the Confederacy, and might use it 
to advantage. A portion of the salt was also given him. The 
canteen which had been used by our party so far on the trip, 
and which lielonged to Taylor, was left with him. He had a 
watch and a supply of scrip to barter for food, or for the serv- 
ices of a guide, to conduct him to the lines, or both. With 
these, and with his canteen and haversack, we left him alone iu 
the woods, wrapped in his overcoat and blanket. It was a sad 
and melancholy scene we witnessed in parting from Taylor. It 
was painful and trying to us to shake his hand, and say to him 
''gopd-by." Our feelings were similar to those occasioned by 
the £9ill of a comrade on the battle-field. We had left Taylor, 
and were getting into the road when we heard him say, '' Com- 
pany G, 2d Massachusetts Cavalry," giving his address, and 
asking us to write to him if we reached the lines. We each of 
us then gave him the name of the company and regiment to 
which we respectively belonged, so that he might write to us if 
he got through all right. 

The substance of the advice we gave to Taylor was to remain 
where he was until daylight, at which time he could move to a 
better or more secure hiding-place, if able to do so, where he 
could command a view of the road, and see persons that might 
pass upon it. The first negro, or party of negroes, he saw passing, 
if no whites were with them, he was to hail, and beckon them 


to him and make his condition known, and get them to harbor 
him, or take him to some house where he could be harbored 
until he was able to renew his journey. If he saw no person 
pass during the day, he was to go in the evening in search of a 
habitation where assistance might be given him. When able to 
travel, he was to secure, if possible, the services of a guide, to 
conduct him to some point within or in the vicinity of the 
pickets or outposts of our army. He could reward his guide, if 
fortunate enough to secure one, with his watch and Confederate 

It was the night of Friday, February 26, 1864, that we 
left Taylor behind. We left him within six miles of the Blue 
Bidge Mountain, at a point between eighty and one hundred 
miles south-west of Lynchburg, Va., and nearly three miles 
west of the pike leading to that place.* We must have left him 
somewhere near the boundary line between Franklin and Bedford 
counties, Va., in the north-west corner of one, or in the south- 
east corner of the other. If it was trying to us to part with 
Taylor and leave him, it must have put his resolution and self- 
denial to a severe test to persist in being left alone in his crippled 
and almost helpless condition. On stopping he was warm, as the 
road was bad, and he had exerted himself to catch up with us. 
By sitting down in the snow, he cooled suddenly, and his lame 
leg became stiff and useless. His condition was critical and un- 
enviable, as he was unable to move about with ease or comfort, 
and his supply of food was small in quantity and poor in quality. 
Ko house was near him. We had not passed a house since 
leaving the pike. The weather was cold, as the snow and mud 
was freezing. He was in a bleak mountain country alone. No 
friend was near him. We had been his friends and comrades, 
and were his friends still, but had forsaken him. His prospect 
n-as cheerless. His desponding heart had little on which to 
predicate a hope. He dreaded to meet a man of his own color, 
for fear of meeting an enemy, and in the mountain districts 
the blacks were few. The woods around him were dreary, al- 
though the ground was covered with snow, and the moon shone 
brightly. The trees with their leafless branches and skeleton 


shadows oould he dimly seen, but were poor companions for a 
maimed and wearied traveler in an enemy's land. It was a 
touching, but a necessary or unavoidable incident of our journey 
to leave Taylor behind in the Winter, and in the wilderness, as 
a lonely and solitary sentinel in the silent watches of the night. 
But we could do no better, as our supply of provisions was nearly 
exhausted, and we could not recruit it, or seek assistance for him 
without jeopardizing his safety as well as our own. So we left 
him to whatever fate might fall to him in the merciful dispensa- 
tion of Providence. 

I have never heard from or of Taylor to this date, Decem- 
ber, 1869. Whether he got able to travel, and succeeded in 
making his escape from the Confederacy, or whether he was re- 
captured and returned to prison, is not known to me. He may 
have perished from starvation where we left him, on account of 
inability to get away from there. 



HAVING parted with Taylor, our travels were resumed 
through the later hours of the night. Once or twice in 
traveling the distance of four, or four and a half miles, we al- 
most concluded to return to him, but feared disaster might come 
upon us if we turned back. It soon became evident that day- 
break was at hand, but we proceeded a mile fSeurther before turn- 
ing into the woods. The sun was just rising when we began 
making our bed, for the 27th of February, in a place surrounded 
by woods and brush. On lying down we fell asleep. We awoke 
about the middle of the afternoon. Shortly after arousing from 
our slumbers, we eat the last of our mush. A little salt was ai\ 


re had left of the supplies we had received from our negro 
iriends in Henry county. When, where, and how our next sup- 
ply of food should be secured we did not know. We judged we 
should cross the mountain during the approaching night, and de- 
termined to give ourselves no concern on the score of rations 
until the valley on the other side was reached. 

The sad event of the previous night formed the subject of our 
conversation for the evening. " It would n't surprise me a bit," 
said Wood, "if Taylor should beat us to the lines yet." 

" He may," said Trippe, " if he lives through the first night 
or two, does well, and is lucky enough to secure the services of 
A good guide to take him through by the short cuts." 

" Our lines will be down this way some of these days,*' said 

" The only difficulty with Taylor," remarked Trippe, " will be 
m avoiding Bebel citizens and finding a true Union friend to care 
for him a few days." 

" He must have nothing to do with any body but a negro," 
aaid Sutherland, "or he's a goner." "Boys," he continued, 
"supposing it should become necessary for us to separate into 
two squads, how '11 we divide ?" 

"Draw cuts," answered Wood. 

" If it should become necessary for us to separate," remarked 
Trippe, " it will most likely be under such circumstances as will 
forbid drawing cuts." 

" Yes, boys," answered Wood, " we '11 have to draw cuts now, 
and have the thing understood." 

Five small sticks were accordingly prepared. They were of 
two different lengths. It being understood how the division 
should stand, we drew cuts. It was decided that Smith, Wood, 
and Sutherland should go in one direction, while Trippe and I 
should go in another. We determined, however, never to sepa- 
rate unless no other alternative would answer, and to push on 
and endeavor to reach our lines together. 

At sunset we began arranging our things for journeying. As 
soon as it was dark we sought the road, and on reaching it we 
heard voices. We retired a few paces into the bushes and waited 


until a half dozen or more persons, mostly if not all colored, had 
passed by. "Now, boys," whispered Wood, as the women and 
children were passing, " here is a good chance to get something 
to eat." But we ha4 decided to cross the mountains before 
looking after food, and allowed the opportunity to pass. We 
then set out on our ninth night of travel, and had gone but lit- 
tle more than a mile when we came to a considerable branch. 
We crossed it with but little trouble, and soon after passed near 
a house on the road whose occupants had not retired for the 
night. We got by the house without attracting attention, or at 
least without exciting curiosity. On following the road a little 
further, we found it commenced its winding ascent of the mount- 
ain, passing through a gap near the boundary line between 
Franklin and Bedford counties, Va. We had heard before leav- 
ing prison that the Blue Bidge Mountains were infested with 
bush-whackers. We had a wholesome dread of these, and ad- 
vanced cautiously up the road, hoping, if there were any, we 
should hear or see them before they should hear or see us. 

In little more than an hour's time we reached the highest 
point in the gap, over which the road passed. We met with no 
one to dispute our progress, and the descent of the western slope 
was immediately commenced. We had followed the road but a 
short distance down the mountain-side, when, on making a turn 
in the road, we saw a light ahead, apparently about one hundred 
yards distant from us. Judging it to be the light of a torch, or 
small fire, we halted, and, on doing so, we heard voices engaged 
in conversation. Trippe at once proposed going ahead alone a 
few yards to see what might be seen. We consented, and he did 
so. A few minutes of intense anxiety to us passed, as we im- 
agined the reports concerning bush-whackers were about to be 
verified. Before Trippe returned we heard a door shut, the fire 
or light at the same time disappearing. We then knew there 
was a house, or hut of some kind, near the road, not far from 
us; but of the number and character of its occupants we were 
not so well informed. 

On coming back to us Trippe reported a house down there, 
and the light we had seen was the light of a fire in the house. 


Trippe said, further, that some one was just leaving the house, 
and, as soon as that person had started off down the road, the 
conversation ceased, and. the door of the house was closed. We 
waited a few minutes for the folks in the house to get to sleep, 
and for the person on the road ahead of us to get out of our 
way, when we again started forward. On coming to the house 
we found it a very small one, situated within a few steps of the 
road. Passing it without discovery, we slowly walked on, and in 
due time reached the valley below. 

Near the foot or base of the ridge was what appeared to be 
a considerable stream of water; but on reaching it we found it 
to be more wide than deep. We went a short distance down 
stream and found four foot logs, .from sixteen to twenty feet long, 
extending across the stream. On these we crossed, and on reach- 
ing the opposite side we halted for awhile to rest before proceed- 
ing to the road. 

"If we only had some meat and bread," said Smith, "now 
would be a good time to eat it." 

"This would be a good place, too," added Sutherland, "as 
water is handy." 

" I guess we would n't be particular as to the place," observed 
Smith, " if we only had something to eat." 

Being reminded of the fact that we were out of rations we 
resolved to try our luck at the first house that came in our way. 
We were not long in reaching one, probably not more than half 
an hour. As we had crossed the mountain without difficulty ; 
as we felt glad we had not met with guerrillas — felt considerably 
hungry, and were, withal, much emboldened, we were not over- 
cautious in our movements. Each of our party of five entered 
the yard through the gate in front, and on reaching the housem- 
an old two-story frame house, unpainted — we rapped violently at 
the front door. There was no answer from within. We called 
and rapped repeatedly, but with the same results. We then 
passed around the house to its south side, where we found another 
door. Sutherland knocked loudly on it, but no response came. 
He then put his mouth to the string-hole and asked, "Is any 
body at home?" 


A man inside answered, in a tone of voice indicating £riglit| 
" I guess there 's somebody about." 

"Why don't you get up, then?" asked Sutherland. "No- 
body 's going to hurt you." 

"What do you want?" inquired the man. 

" We want something to eat, and want you to get up and set 
about getting it forthwith," said Sutherland. He refused to even 
get out of bed, whereupon Sutherland demanded, "Shall we burst 
your door down?" and Wood added, "and come in and burst 
your noggin?" 

The man said, "That rests with you," and inquired, "Who 
are you, and where are you going?" 

"We are soldiers going to Rocky Mount Court-House," 
Sutherland answered. 

" Go on over the mountain, and you will be fed in the morn- 
ing," returned the man. 

Preferring to risk our chances at the next house to doing any 
very rash or violent acts, we left this one, telling the man he 
showed a very poor quality of patriotism. 

"If it was any other time, if it twas daylight, I might do 
something for you." 

"We do n't have to stand picket in the night-time; we don't 
have to march, skirmish, and frequently fight in the night-time, 
I suppose ?" retorted Sutherland, in a very unamiable voice. 

"And skedaddle in the night-time from such rusty Butter- 
nuts as you are," added Smith, in a tone just loud enough not 
to be heard by the man, as we were withdrawing from the yard. 

We passed out of the yard through the gate to the road as 
quickly as we could, intending to hurry on our way. As Suther- 
land closed the gate he threatened the man with, " We shall re- 
port you when we get to Rocky Mount, mark that." 

On starting forward on the road Wood observed, "We com- 
menced too heavy on the gentleman : we got him so badly scared 
he did n't know what to do, or how to do it." 

We kept up our conversation, dwelling chiefly on the causes, 
real and supposed, of our failure in procuring food, and of the 
method to be resorted to in supplying our necessities. It was 


agreed that Wood and I should try our hands at the next house* 
It was after midnight, and should we not reach the next house 
soon we decided not to disturb its inmates, as we must have time 
to get out of reach after so doing before hiding for the day. 

In a few moments we halted in front of a house on the south 
of the road at a distance of sixty or seventy yards from it. 
Wood and I entered the yard and approached a door in the one- 
story part of the house, supposing the darkies slept there. On 
knocking slightly at the door, and hearing no answer, we jerked 
the latch string once or twice. A voice inside — which was un- 
doubtedly that of an elderly white person — remonstrated strongly 
jigainst being disturbed at so late an hour. Wood seeing the 
iimoke-house a few steps to his left, went to examine it, and 
)»roceeded from thence to the yard south of the house. 

At the same time I stepped upon the porch in front of the 
tiwo-story part of the house, and walked on it until I discovered 
a pair of steps or stairs. On going up the steps I found the 
porch had a second story also. Just at the top of the steps 
««as a doorway to the second story of the main building. I 
(ound the door fastened, when I called out, asking if any one 
was inside. A voice, plainly that of a negro, answered there was. 
I told him to get up, and cotne out doors, as there were some 
VDlks at the road who would like very much to see him. The 
negro declined, saying, " You can 't come dat game on dis chile : 
se not coming out dar." 

*' Get out of bed and come to the string hole," said I, " I 
want to speak to you." He did so, when I said, " Put your ear 
to the string^hole." He complied ; and in a loud, distinct whis- 
per, I pronounced the word " Yankees." As soon as the negro 
could draw on his clothing, the bar of the door came down and 
he and I descended the steps into the yard. 

On seeing us. Wood approached, saying to the negro, " Where 
did you come from ?" 

"Ise from Knoxville," was the answer. 

"But just now, where did you come from just now?" asked 

"Prom up in the loft," was the negro's reply. 

wj » w - » 


" Come out to the road, old fellow," said I, " there 's some 
more Yankees out there." 

"Lord, massal golly! dat so?" ejaculated the astonished 

We then went to the road accompanied by the negro. On 
rejoining Trippe, Smith, and Sutherland, at the point where we 
had left them, the last named, on seeing the negro, remarked, 
" You do n't expect us to eat that fellow, do you ?" 

We lost no time in telling the negro what was wanting ; that 
we were hungry and had no provisions. The negro said the 
cellar and smoke-house were locked, and the old master had the 
keys. We asked him how soon he could get something for us to 
eat. He replied, " In the mornin', 'fore massa and mistress gits 

" How about the keys; don't the whites get up and unlock ?" 

'' No, sah ; we gits de keys, onfastens, and gits breakfast 'foro 
de white folks gits out o' bed," replied the negro. 

On ascertaining beyond doubt that provisions would be fur- 
nished us in the morning, we had the negro conduct us to a safe 
hiding-place for the day, which was near at hand. He took ui 
to a secure retreat in the midst of a large grove of heavy oalc 
timber situated about a mile from the house, on the north of tho 
road. In all directions from our hiding-place for the day — Sun- 
day, February 28th — were open fields. The woods or grove w«) 
were in covered three or four hundred acres of land. Our camp 
for the day was close to a rivulet, and was immediately sur- 
rounded by tall dead grass; and a little further from us were 
numerous small trees and bushes. The negro told us he would 
fetch us breakfast by ten o'clock, and then hurried home. 

It was an hour or more before day when we made our usual 
preparations for sleep. Soon after lying down we were lost in 
slumber. Near nine o'clock, A. M., we awoke from our slumbers 
and got up and washed our faces at the rivulet. Our toilet com- 
pleted, we had not long to wait for the appearance of our negro 
Mend, with a small basket of eatables, a pitcher of milk, and a 
mug of molasses. We fared sumptuously on wheat cakes, fried 
bacon, potatoes, molasses, and milk. When we had finished our 


meal the negro took the molasdes and milk pitchers in his basket 
and went homeward. While eating we learned from the negro 
that we were in Boanoke county, and that the nearest town on 
the road we expected to travel was Big Lick, a station on the 
East Tennessee and Virginia Railroad. 

Shortly after noon the negro came out and talked quite a 
while with us. He wished to know when we would have another 
meal brought out. We expressed our willingness to receive 
another meal at any time before sunset. We asked the negro 
how much provision he could furnish us to carry with us. He 
replied that he had not a good chance in day-time to get at the 
meat, fiour, and potatoes, without being seen by his master or 
mistress, and at night he had no chance at all to secure any 
thing, as the cellar and smoke-house were always locked at dark 
by the whites, who kept the keys until morning. 

The man on whose provision we were subsisting was named 
Schooler, or Schuyler. Being an original secessionist, he left 
Knoxville, Tennessee, and settled in Boanoke county, Virginia, 
where he would be less troubled with Federal troops. The negro 
had also lived in Knoxville, and had before seen Yankee soldiers. 
When he left us he went home, and soon returned with another 
supply of food for our present consumption. While we were eat- 
ing, the negro informed us that Schooler, his master, had seen the 
man at whose house we had attempted to get rations on the pre- 
vious night. The man told Schooler of the demonstrations we 
had made at his house before leaving it to go on over the mount- 
ain. Schooler in turn told the man that he, too, had been in- 
terrupted during the night, but the disturbers of his sleep had 
done no harm, and gone on, he knew not where. 

Our supper finished, we had an understanding with the negro 
as to the place where we should receive the corn and meat. He 
then left us, and we rolled up our blankets and made other need- 
ful preparations for our tenth night's travel. Just at dark we 
started for the point designated to receive what provisions our 
negro host could provide for us. As we found him there with 
the corn and meat, we were not long delayed. We were told it 
was seven miles to Big Lick, and that Salem Gourt-House was 


nine railes west of that place. I gave the negro one of my 
blouses as a slight compensation for his services to us, and as a 
token of remembrance. We thanked the negro heartily for be 
friending us in the hour of need, and then put the corn, which 
was shelled, in our haversacks, and the meat in our pillow-slip, 
and started for the road, accompanied that far by the negro. 

On reaching the road we bade our negro friend farewell and 
left him. We found the road better than we expected, and 
pushed forward rapidly, hoping to get around Big Lick by mid- 
night. We had thought of bearing to our right and passing 
east of the place. As soon as we thought we had gone six miles 
we saw a few small houses not far ahead of us, and concluded to 
pass them before commencing our circuit around the town. 
When we were just opposite the first house. Wood supposed it to 
be the domicile of a negro family, and went to the door, opened 
it, and asked how far it was to Big Lick. "You are there 
now," was the answer given. Closing the door without asking 
any more questions. Wood hastily rejoined us at the road. 

On finding we were in town we pushed on through it, walk- 
ing silently and briskly. Near the railroad depot we halted, 
and after consulting briefly concluded to leave the road, so as to 
elude pursuers, fearing the man we had inquired of might be a 
white Rebel, and might collect a party to look after us in the 
morning. After leaving the road we reached in a few minutes' 
time the railroad bridge. We passed under the bridge, walking 
partly in the waters of the little stream which it spanned until 
we gained the woods north of the railroad. We then traveled 
due northward until the sky became cloudy, when it grew much 
darker, and we found great difficulty in making our way through 
strange woods, with no road to guide us. 

Before morning it began raining, and the night became black 
and dismal in its last hours. * We v could scarcely proceed, but 
we kept on the move. Just at daylight we came to a road run- 
,&ing east and west. It seemed to be a very public one. As it 
was raining hard we thought we should not be seen, and we 
crossed the road and pushed on northward something more than 
a mile, when we halted in the midst of a considerable forest of 


pines. Through this forest was a string of rail-fence, and as it 
was raining hard, so that we could not make our bed down on 
the ground, we placed rails across from one panel to another, on 
which we sat with our coats and blankets disposed about us so 
as to shed the water off as much as possible. In this manner 
we occupied two corners of the fence; three of us in one corner 
and two in the other. 

Near noon we were compelled by the severity of the storm 
to seek shelter. We started and kept close to the fence on its 
north side, going in an easterly direction. In a few minutes we 
came to another fence, running north through open fields. We 
changed our course, and followed it until we came to a branch 
running in a south-east course. As the ground was much lower 
near the branch we could follow it and at the same time be 
screened from view. Soon we came in sight of a lone building 
to our left a short distance, in the edge of the woods. We went 
directly to it, and found it to be a tobacco-house. In it we 
found shelter from the rain, as the roof was good. We then 
took off our coats and blankets, and wrung the water from them. 
As. there was a lot of corn-blades ti^d in bundles stacked in one 
corner of the room, we soon had a good resting-place. A small 
lot of tobacco leaves, hanging above our heads, soon attracted 
our attention, when the following conversation took place : 

"There's some tobacco," said Smith. "I'll bet there will 
be somebody out here before night to look at it." 

"Not while it rains this way," said Trippe. 

"Well, let them come," said Wood, "it belongs to nobody 
but a darkie, any how." 

"And when he comes out here we '11 only have him to fur- 
nish us with more rations," said Sutherland. 

" I 'm only afraid he won't come," added Trippe, 

There was no floor in the tobacco-house, and we cleared the 
corn-blades and straw from the center and built a fire. For 
fuel we used tobacco sticks, of which there was a large quantity 
piled up in a corner of the building. After burning enough 
sticks to make sufficient coals and ashes for the purpose, we 
went to parching corn. This we did by scattering the com near 


ihe fire and raking hot ashes and coals over it. When the corn 
wa^ parched sufficiently, we raked it from the ashes with small 
sticks. After eating all we wished of parched corn and broiled 
meat, we parched a lot of corn for future use. 

The rain continued falling, and the day was far spent, when 
we came to the conclusion we should be compelled to lie over for 
the approaching night — February 29th. At dark we stretched 
our blankets on sticks around the fire, for the twofold purpose of 
drying them and concealing the fire. Soon we were obliged to 
allow the fire to go down, as its light shone against the roof and 
through the cracks of the building between the logs. We had 
seen but one house during the evening from where we were, and 
that was away some distance to the north of us. But for fear 
somebody would be passing, and see the light of our fire, and 
thus discover us, and publish the fact of our presence in the 
vicinity, we put it out entirely. Becoming reconciled to the 
necessity of stopping over for the night and following day, we 
thought we would make the best of it, and rest, and recuperate 
as much as possible in that time. So, taking time and pains, 
and a goodly quantity of corn-blades, we made us a good bed. 
A roof over our heads and the pelting rain-storm without were 
conducive to sleep, and the night was passed in quiet and re- 

We waked up shortly after daylight in the morning, but did 
not get out of bed until about eight o'clock, A. M. The rain 
had ceased, but clouds still overspread the sky, causing us to 
feel doubtful about getting off even that night. We went out 
one at a time to the pools of water, and washed our hands and 
faces. Soon after we built a fire and began parching corn^ and 
broiling meat for breakfast and dinner. While thus engaged, 
Sutherland, looking through a crack between logs, espied an old 
negro approaching. As he was alone he gave us no concern, 
and we were not averse to his coming. Approaching nearer and 
nearer the building, the old negro finally came upon our trail 
and noticed our tracks. He followed them a few steps, when, 
discovering they led to the tobacco-house, he came to a halt. 
He watched the house closely for a moment or two, when hear- 



ipg or seeing us, he turned to go back. Sutherland opened the 
door and said, " Hullo, old man I that 11 never do; come in here, 
we '11 not hurt you." 

The old man turned about, and after further entreaty ap* 
preached the house and entered it. He had come out to examine 
his tobacco. He was well stricken in years, being ninety years 
of age, having children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren* 
On account of his age he was slow of speech and comprehend 
sion. We had trouble in getting him to understand who and 
what we were, and the situation in which we were placed. Hia 
did not seem, at first, to correctly understand the meaning of the 
term Yankee, but soon came to it, inquiring, '' Is you uns some 
of them fellers that 's penned up in the 'backer-houses in Eich* 
mond?" We answered that we were. We found it necessary 
to impress on his mind the necessity of keeping secret from the 
whites the fact of our presence in the country. Our need of 
procuring provisions from time to time was also explained to the 
old man. We urged the old man to either bring or send us 
some meat of some kind, if nothing else, and to have it at the 
tobacco-house by sunset. He promised to do so, and shortly 
after examining and arranging his tobacco, he went slowly on 
his way home. We finished our breakfast, and continued parch- 
ing corn for awhile. A little before noon we laid-ourselves down, 
and slept until about three o'clock in the evening. 

On getting up we finished parching corn, and then all the 
provisions we had with us were ready for eating. When we first 
got up the sky was partially clear, and by sunset it was cloud- 
less. Just after sunset the old negro arrived with some six or 
eight pounds of meat, mostly boiled beef, the remainder being a 
small piece of side meat. A couple of corn-dodgers were also 
furnished us, which we set apart for our midnight meal. Hav- 
ing got our baggage, quartermaster and commissary stores, ready 
for the trip, we expressed our obligations to the aged negro who 
had befriended us, and bade him good-by. He then started 
home, and soon after we set out on our eleventh night's journey, 
March 1, 1864. 

Finding the ground soft and well saturated with water, we 


thought we shoald do well if we trudged through eight or ten 
miles that night. On reaching the road, which had been pointed 
out to us by the negro, we found the walking much better than 
we expected, as the water could not so easily penetrate its hard 
surface. In a short time we passed the house where lived the 
owner of the plantation to which the tobacoo-house in which we 
had be^n sheltering belonged. The house was near the road, 
and the lights in it were burning brightly. While we were 
passing the house the dogs began a lively barking, and kept it 
up until we had gone some distance, and crossed a creek, when 
we heard no more of them. Near midnight we halted at the 
road side amid a cluster of small trees, and eat some beef and 

We soon resumed our travels. As we could not walk very 
rapidly, owing to the condition of the road, we put in the whole 
time until day-break, so that we could have it to say that we 
were at least eight or ten miles nearer our goal than when set- 
ting out. The road we were traveling bore northward in its 
general direction, but as the country on either side was covered 
with unfenced woods, it frequently deviated from its general 
course. At length day-break came, and we went to the left of 
the road in search of a secure hiding-place for the day, March 
2, 1864. 

The distance gone over during the night had not been more 
than eleven miles, or twelve at the furthest, but we were that 
distance further north, which was a gratifying feature of the 
night's journey. The ground being yet very damp, we were 
compelled to seek an open space in which to make our bed, and 
a quantity of brush and leaves on which to make it, so that our 
bedding should not get damp or muddy. A suitable hiding- 
place having been found, we collected leaves and brush from the 
adjacent woods, and made our bed on them, and retired to sleep 
for the day. ' We went about a mile from the road before locat- 
ing our camp. It was further than may have been necessary, 
as the road was not a very public one, judging from appearances, 
and the country was very sparsely settled. 

Some time in the evening we awoke and got up, finding the 

08 A 810BT OF THB WAB. 

sky clear, and the weather mild for the time of year. We foand 
we had not stopped oonvenient to water, bat on looking around 
a little we found water not fiur off sufficient for our ne^ds. As 
we had no use for fire we boilt none, but made a meal on parched 
corn and beef, and quietly awaited the approach of night. The 
evening was spent in conversation, dwelling chiefly on our trip, 
past and prospective. We talked of things that had taken place, 
which, if we had them to do over again, we should do differently ; 
of some fork of the road or cross-road, where, if we were only 
there again, we would take a different course. Sometimes we 
would imagine certain things to happen us^ and decide in our 
minds what we should do, should the event actually transpire. 
Our minds seemed always occupied, either with thoughts and re>- 
flections on the journey, so far as completed, or with plans and 
expedients for the journey yet before us. 

At dark our luggage was fitted up in readiness for starting 
out on the twelfth night of our travels, being the thirteenth night 
out. In a half hour's time we were on the road, wending our 
way northward. We found the road had improved under the 
day's sunshine, and we were enabled to make better progress than 
we had made on the previous night. On coming to a cross-road 
near midnight we stopped a few minutes to eat a little and con- 
sult as to the course to take, north or west. It was evident that, 
no matter which course we took, we should soon reach the first 
ranges of the Alleghany Mountains. As we had previously de- 
termined to travel in day-time across the ridges, gorges, valleys, 
and barren wastes of those mountains, we thought we would turn 
west and reverse, as soon as possible, the order of our times of 
sleep and travel, sleeping at night and traveling in day-time. 
We accordingly turned our faces to the west. By so doing we 
did not reach the mountains as soon as we should have done had 
we continued in the northward course. 

We spent another night and day, March 3, 1864, in the 
valley between the Blue Eidge and Alleghany Mountains. Noth- 
ing deserving of particular notice transpired during that day. 
An hour or more before day, on the early morning of March 4th, 
we came to a considerable stream, washing the base of one of 



the principal ridges of the AUegUanies. We had been traveling 
the greater part of the night over a very rough and hilly road, 
and were getting tired and sleepy. As we expected to begin 
traveling in day-time over the mountains on the day then ap- 
proaching, in accordance with our previous programme, we deter- 
mined not to cross the stream that night, or morning rather, and 
followed the road back a short distance to where the woods bor- 
dered ii on the south. We then left the road and entered the 
woods, going in a south-east course a little more than a half 
mile. In a spot surrounded by small trees and bushes, where 
the surface of the ground was covered with rock large and small, 
we halted for the day, March 4th. We cleared the rocks from 
a small space, sufficiently large for our bed. We then made it 
and went to rest for a few hours. 



NEAR nine o'clock, A. M., March 4th, we were awakened by 
the rumbliDg noise of a wagon running over a rough and 
stony road not far to the east of us. We supposed this road in- 
tersected *the one we had been traveling during the night, but 
we had cot noticed the point of intersection. On finding we 
were near a road upon which persons would be passing during 
the day Smith cautiously ventured in the direction of the road 
to a duster of cedar bushes, from which, while concealed from 
observation, he could see any one passing. Soon another wagon 
was heard coming down the road. Smith watched in the bushes 
until the wagon passed, when he returned to us, reporting that 
the wagon was a common army wagon, and that the driver had 
on a blue overcoat. '' Can it be," said Smith, " that Averill's 


cavalry are on a raid through here?" As we knew the Con 
federates wore blue coats whenever they got possession of them 
we did not comfort ourselves with the hope that Union trooper? 
were in the vicinity. We rather concluded there was a squad 
of Confederate military in the neighborhood, and thought best 
to look about us a little. 

Smith, having been out east of us and taken a survey of the 
road and adjacent woods, thought he would take a look to the 
south and south-west of us. Keeping under cover of the brush 
as much as possible, he went out south of us, intending to be 
gone only a few minutes. Fully a half hour passed and Smith 
had not returned, and, finally, we suspected something wrong, 
and quietly, though quickly, folded our blankets and got ready for 
a ''skedaddle." We did not, however, intend changing our lo- 
cation before Smith returned, or until it was certain he would 
not return at all, unless somebody else came upon us in our 
present retreat. We had but a few minutes to wait before we saw 
Smith approach from the south in a brisk, though cautious walk. 

''What does this mean?" asked Smith, on noticing we had 
torn up camp, and were looking as though we were about ready 
to fly. 

"It means that we had given yon up as lost or captured," 
answered Trippe. 

" Well," said Smith, " I think it will be policy for us to shift 
from this place." 

" We have been in momentary expectation of a summons to 
surrender," added Trippe. 

Smith had gone south of our camp but little more than a 
quarter of a mile. He was bearing considerably to the west, 
when he noticed to his right, and just beyond a bluff or ledge, 
a smoke curling upward. Not hearing or seeing any one, he 
walked up to the edge of the bluff and looked over and saw a 
woman engaged in boiling sugar-water. As he was endeavoringi 
to gain the shelter of the bushes the woman noticed him shying 
off and asked, "What are you afeared of?" 

"0 nothing; only I was afraid you would be scared if you 
saw me," answered Smith. 



While conversing briefly with the woman Smith found she 
thought it nothing strange to have met a man dressed in blue. 
Just as he was on the point of asking if there were Federal sol- 
diers near he happened to see four or five men approaching a 
log cabin, which was situated in the center of a cleared space of 
ground. Two of the men were. dressed in blue; the others were 
clad in butternut. The cabin was quite a quarter of a mile. dis- 
tant to the south-west. Smith observed to the woman, "There 
is a company of soldiers not far from your house." 

Thi^ remark was made in such a tone and manner as led the 
woman to believe that Smith was acquainted in the vicinity. As 
it was also half inquisitive, the woman answered that there was 
a company of Soldiers not far off, and asked, "An't you one 
of 'em?" 

Having gained the information desired, and seeing the oppor- 
tunity of deceiving the woman. Smith replied, "Of course I am.'* 

" Well," said the woman, " I thought it curious if you 
wasn't." ^ 

" 0, yes,*' returned Smith, " I 'm a soldier." 

"As there was a horse tied to a tree near the woman hav- 
ing a man's saddle on it. Smith expected a man — ^perhaps a 
soldier— ^would be there presently, and started off, observing as 
he left, "Well, I must go back to camp." 

On leaving the woman. Smith went in a direction contrary to 
that which he expected to take on getting put of her sight. He 
soon after approached our hiding-place from the south, as before 
mentioned. On hearing Smith's narration of facts, as given 
above, we gathered our things and started eastward. On reach- 
ing the road on which the wagons had passed, we walked back- 
ward across it. We went through the woods some distance 
further east, and then we turned north. We soon came to the 
road over which we had passed during the night, and crossed it, 
walking backward. We continued in a northern direction 
until we had gone something more than a mile from the road, 
and had reached heavy woods with a thick bushy undergrowth, 
in which we halted for awhile. After a few moments' rest and 
consultation, we retraced our steps a short distance to a branch 


we had crossed, and in it we washed oar hands and faces. We 
then eat the last of our provisions, and had nothing left to carry 
with us to subsist on. 

Near three o'clock, P. M., having got every thing ready, we 
started on our travels in daylight, in accordance with previous 
arrangement. We made our way through the woods and brusl) 
with some difficulty, in a western direction, until we had gone 
about a mile, when we noticed an opening not far to our left, 
where the timber had been cleared away. We approached this 
cleared land, in order to avoid the thickets of brush. On reach- 
ing it, we saw a small log cabin in the edge of the woods, on the 
opposite side of it. As we saw no one, we went along near the 
brush and woods, going toward the stream we had encountered 
at day-break, before we had found our place of refuge for the 
day. When within two hundred yards of the stream, having 
gained a point directly north of the cabin, we looked toward it, 
and saw a woman standing near its south-west corner. As she 
was not looking at us, we judged she had not noticed us, and as 
she was almost half a mile distant, we deemed it unnecessary to 
change our course on her account. On reaching the bank of the 
stream, and before going down to the water's brink, we again 
liX)ked toward the cabin, and saw that the woman was just dis- 
appearing. Almost at the same instant we heard the loud, 
shrill, blast of a horn or bugle. Not knowing for what purpose 
the bugle had been sounded,- we thought it. boded us no good 
at least. When we reached the margin of the stream we re- 
moved the shoes and socks from our feet, then putting our shoes 
on, we waded the stream. Wood and Trippe had reached the 
opposite bank, and Smith, Sutherland, and I were nearing it, 
when looking to our left we saw a man on horseback coming 
down the road that passed between the stream and the ridge of 
the mountain. He came toward us rapidly until he saw us 
plainly, when he wheeled suddenly about, and dashed back up 
the road with great speed. He was bare-headed, and when he 
turned about in the road, displaying his long locks of hair, and 
the cape of bis overcoat, with its brass buttons glistening in the 
sunlight, we at once realized our situation, and the necessity of 


getting away from there as quickly as we could. We took timei 
however, to put on our dry socks; then putting our shoes on, 
and lacing them securely, we left the bank of the stream and the 
road directly in our rear, and pushed up the mountain-side as 
rapidly as the nature of the ground would permit. 

The ridge near its base was thickly covered over with pine 
and cedar bushes, but as we neared its summit, the bushes were 
more scattering. The side of the ridge was covered over with 
rocks, large and small, and it was impossible to make a foot- 
print on its stony surface. Near the top cf ^he ridge, and on 
its summit, were innumerable rocks of large and massive sise. 
Trippe having been recaptured once and sent back to prison, was 
determined to avoid, if possible, the recurrence of an event 
fraught with such calamitous consequences. On the first appear- 
ance of danger he had hurried his preparations for leaving the 
'itream, and had started out in advance of the other four of us. 
We only aimed to keep Trippe in view, and allow the distance 
between him and ourselves to grow no greater. Trippe was 
within two hundred yards of the summit of the ridge when he 
stopped to rest. As soon as we saw he had halted, we did 
the same, although we were not much wearied. But we wished 
to husband our strength as much as possible, knowing we should 
be hunted and pursued. Smith, Sutherland, Wood, and I kept 
near together, that we might consult each other as we hurried 
forward, for we recognized the value and importance of concerted 
action in the expected emergency. 

We had rested a very few minutes when we looked up the 
mountain and saw Trippe hurrying to the top of it. Supposing 
from his extraordinary exertions that he had seen pursuers from 
his more elevated position, we cast a glance below us. At first 
glance we saw no one, but thought we could see the tops of the 
bushes moving near the base of the ridge. We watched for a 
moment only, and then saw five or six bare-headed Butternut 
gentry appear in sight, as they emerged from the bushes, about 
two hundred yards below us. They had guns, with bayonets at- 
tached, but were minus their cartridge-boxes. We pushed ahead 
at a moderate run for the top of the mountain, occasionally looking 


beUnd us to see if the Rebels were gaining on us. On reaching 
the summit of the ridge we followed it, as Trippe had, in a 
north-eastern direction. Soon we came to a deep chasm, or 
gorge, through the top of the mountain. On the sides of this 
chasm were many large rocks, and a few scattering trees or 
bushes. Should our pursuers fire on us, we thought we could 
make it very difficult for them to hit us, by constantly dodging 
about, and disappearing behind the huge rocks. 

As Smith, Sutherland, Wood, and I were going down the 
south side of the chasm, Trippe was hurrying with might and 
main up its north side. Just as our pursuers reached the chasm, 
on its south side, we gained the top of the ridge on the north 
vi .'u Shculd the Rebels all commence to cross the chasm at 
once, we should be c;iu cf sight before they got over; so they 
divided their squad, two remaining lo w&tch our movements, 
while the others crossed in pursuit of us. Just as we had gained 
the top of the ridge north of the gorge, the two Rebels on the 
south side of it cried out, " Halt ! halt ! you d — d Yankees, yoii, 
or we '11 shoot you." Having little fears of bullets at such long 
range, and feeling sure they had but one round of ammunition 
with them, we paid no attention to their threats. No shots were 
fired at us, but threats to shoot were repeated as long as we were 
in hearing. 

Although we had hurried considerably, we discovered Trippe 
was out of sight, and we increased our speed, as much to get a 
view of him as to gain on our pursuers. We had gone but a 
few yards after so doing before we came to Trippe lying on the 
ground, near a large crevice or opening in a huge rock. He 
was completely exhausted, and unable to speak or make himself 
understood. We scarcely halted on reaching Trippe, as three or 
four of the Confederates had gained the top of the ridge north 
of the gorge, and were yelling at us to halt and surrender. They 
were not more than a hundred yards distant, but many rocks of 
huge proportions intervened between them and ourselves. Trippe 
at this moment motioned to us with both arms, and then began 
crawling into the opening in the rock near him. What he wished 
us to do we did not know, and had no opportunity of ascertain- 


ing, as we were obliged to flee for our own safety. He attempted 
to speak but could n6t. ' 

We left Trippe to his fate, and hurried on without stopping, 
until we were entirely out of hearing of the Eebels. When we 
were beyond the immediate reach of the enemy, it was a ques- 
tion with us whether we should pause for a few moments, to 
eee if Trippe* had escaped their notice, or push ahead. We halted 
and listened for a few minutes, but heard nothing. We concluded 
the enemy had found Trippe, and were now looking among the 
rocks for us, and determined to push forward. We kept on 
the top of the ridge for the distance of nearly two miles, when we 
came to a gorge leading down the western slope of the mount- 
ain into the valley. We followed down this gorge until we were 
fully half-way to the valley. In a place entirely surrounded by 
cedar bushes, we halted to rest. The sides of the gorge were 
l.igh and rugged, and huge rocks projected from them, and hung 
almost directly over our heads. No sound fell upon our ears; 
not even of the wind gently blowing, or of running water's low 
murmur. It was truly a place of solitude. The unfortunate 
event of the evening, the loss of our comrade, made it doubly 
sad and solitary to us. As we had made very few, if any, foot- 
prints, we knew the enemy could not easily trace us ; and though 
sorrowing and dejected in spirit, we felt safe in the loneliness and 
seclusion of the place. We felt deeply the loss we had sustained 
in our separation from Trippe, as we had hitherto deferred to 
him in all the straits and critical situations in which we had 
been placed. It was the second time he had been recaptured — 
if really recaptured this time — and foiled in his attempts to es- 
cape prison, and on that account we felt sorry for him. We 
called to mind the reluctance manifested by him to starting with 
us on the trip to the lines ; also his great discouragement when 
he came across the citizen in the woods, about ten days previ- 
ously. We conjectured the Eebels had certainly found Trippe, 
We conjectured, too, that Trippe, in motioning to us, had intended 
to be understood as directing us to hide, as he was doing ; that 
the Rebels would question him as to where the rest of us were, 
and that he would answer that we were hid among the rocks 

■K- - ;v 


.:ite la the day, that the town was 

i^inia. We went down the mount- 

\A then changed our course, and 

.-ction a little east of north. In 

t we came to a dilapidated rail- 

i'l soon emerged from the thicket 

.,'ore bearing considerably to the 

•t, when we suddenly came upon 

?re at play near the door. They 

immediately, when two women 

at us in apparent amazement. 

having gone down, we knew 

pon us, and we approached the 

liout waiting for an invitation. 

■ ersation by telling the women 

they had cooked, as we wore 

The women complied, setting 

,t, a couple of corn-dodge is, 

round the table and eat all 

r eating we told the women 

reception, we had drank for 

}t bread we had eaten for 

-.onished, and inquired who 
We told them we had been 
were now trying to make 
e Union lines. They then 

the meal they had given 
federate guards from New 

for ordering them, In so 
for us, saying we thought 
1 called for "Jim" to come 
aediately came forth. On 

d, thinking we were Con- 

deserter from Buckner's 
'?se Unionists of the event 

1, and of losing one of our 


somewhere near ; that they would look for us, and, failing to fine 
us, would accuse him of deceiving and delaying them in their 
pursuit of us until we were out of reach. Taking this view of 
the matter we feared the Eebels would become exasperated at 
Trippe, and would treat him cruelly, if they did not murder him. 
Whatever the result of the fray might have been to Trippe, we 
knew we were yet free. Knowing it was entirely beyond our 
power to rescue or protect him, we sadly realized the extent of 
our loss, and began to look out again for ourselves. 

To this date, February, 1870, I have never heard either from 
or of Trippe, and know nothing as to his fate. He was about 
thirty-four years of age, was a man of good judgment, and pos- 
sessed many excellent qualities of mind and heart. I think he 
had been at one time Orderly Sergeant of his Company, Com- 
pany H, 16th United States Infantry. He enlisted at Columbus, 
Ohio, in the year 1861. He was never married. 



WE rested in the gorge for the space of half an hour. Soon 
after leaving it we reached the valley. We crossed the 
valley, and immediately began the ascent of another ridge, and 
on gaining its summit we could see a town in the distance to the 


west of us. We ascertained, late in the day, that the town was 
New Castle, Craig county, Virginia. We went down the mount- 
ain-side into another valley, and then changed our course, and 
followed up the valley in a direction a little east of north. In 
passing through a dense thicket we came to a dilapidated rail- 
fence. We crossed the fence, and soon emerged from the thicket 
into more open ground. We were bearing considerably to the 
east, following around the thicket, when we suddenly came upon 
a hut. Three or four children were at play near the door. They 
saigf us and ran into the house immediately, when two women 
appeared at the door and gazed at us in apparent amazement. 
As it was growing late, the sun having gone down, we knew 
the women could bring no harm upon us, and we approached the 
humble dwelling and entered it without waiting for an invitation. 
We took seats, and opened the conversation by telling the women 
to sot before us, on the table, what they had cooked, as we wore 
hungry, and had nothing to eat. The women complied, setting 
out a few slices of cold boiled meat, a couple of corn-dodge is, 
and four bowls of milk. We sat around the table and eat all 
that had been placed upon it. After eating we told the women 
that was the first milk, with one exception, we had drank for 
many months, and that was the first bread we had eaten for 
two days. 

The women seemed very much astonished, and inquired who 
we were, and where we were from. We told them we had been 
prisoners at Danville, Virginia, and were now trying to make 
our way through the mountains to the Union lines. They then 
apologized to us for the scantiness of the meal they had given 
us, saying they thought we were Confederate guards from New 
Castle. We also apologized to them for ordering them, In so 
abrupt a manner, to set out supper for us, saying we thought 
they were *' Secesh." The women then called for " Jim " to come 
out from under the bed. "Jim" immediately came forth. On 
our approach he had hid under the bed, thinking we were Con- 
federate home guards. Jim was a deserter from Buckner's 
army in East Tennessee. We told these Unionists of the event 
of the afternoon; of our being pursued, and of losing one of our 


number in our flight. They seemed to manifest much anxiety 
on account of the lost one, and asked us many questions con- 
cerning him, 

We inquired if there was any good Union man living in the 
valley of. whom we could procure provisions to carry with us. 
We were told that "Jeemes" Huffman lived four miles up the 
branchy and could furnish us with provisions. A path was 
pointed out to us that led up to Huffman's house. Just at dusk 
we bid our Union friends "good evening" and set out, intend- 
ing to give Huffman a call. About half the distance had be^n 
gone over when darkness fully set in. After dark our progress 
was much slower in following the strange and devious pathway. 
Near nine o'clock, P. M., we saw the light of a fire, shining 
dimly through Huffman's window. We crossed a fence and fol- 
lowed the path a short distance up the mountain-side to the 
house. The door *was standing open, and we entered and stood 
before Huffman and his wife. They were not a little surprised, 
and seemed doubtful as to the manner in which they should treat 
us. We were soon seated before the fire, however, and began 
to acquaint Huffman with our condition and necessities. Having 
heard with interest our narrative of the facts in our case the 
woman asked if we would have supper. We answered in the 
affirmative, and she went to work, and by ten o'clock, P. M., we 
sat down to a table bountifully supplied with food. 

• While eating we learned from Huffman that he lived two and 
a half miles from New Castle, Craig county. We learned, also, 
that the home guards at New Castle searched the premises of 
the mountaineers every two weeks for deserters from the Con- 
federate army. When we first entered the house Huffman sup- 
posed*we were home guards from New Castle, and the hesitancy 
on his part to avow, at first, his Union sentiments, was the re- 
sult. Huffman said it had been two weeks ^ince his house had 
been searched, and he was in hourly expectation of the guards. 
As Huffman was engaged in shelling corn, we asked of him the 
privilege of shelling a few ears to carry with us to eat on the 
morrow. This favor was readily granted, and some three or four 
dozens of Irish potatoes were also furnished us. 


Near eleven o'clock on that night of March 4th we were ready 
to set out again on our. travels. Huffman gave us directions how 
to get across Craig's Creek, and how to avoid a certain house, 
which he described, where a Eebel family lived, and where the 
home guards sometimes stopped, when out on their semi-monthly 
rounds. After bidding Huffman and his wife good-night, we left 
them, and followed, as well as we could, the directions we had 
received. It had become very dark and cloudy, and before we 
reached Craig's Creek it began raining, and we found it impos- 
sible to follow the directions Huffman had given us. But we 
pushed on in the darkness, and in the course of an hour we 
reached the stream. We found we were considerably off the 
track, having missed the crossing Huffman had described. We 
spent half an hour or more in wandering up and down the creek, 
looking carefully for the crossing, but failed to find it. We spent 
another half hour in procuring a stout staff, or stick, apiece, to 
be used in the stream while wading it. Having supplied our- 
selves, we plunged into the waters of the creek, steadying our- 
selves against the swift current with our sticks as best we could. 

It was very dark, and the rain continued falling. To add to 
the difficulty of crossing, we found that the bed or bottom of the 
creek was very treacherous, being full of rocks and holes. We 
found the water very cold, and the current strong and swift. 
We stumbled often, and came near falling into^the water, but 
finally got safely across, with a thorough and cold wetting. All 
our clothing was wet, and dripping with water, as we stood upon 
the bank. We took off our blouses and wrung the water from 
them. After re-arranging our things, we set out again in a 
northern direction, following up the valley. We found it neces- 
sary to walk briskly before morning, in order to excite warmth 
of body to dry our clothing. As we had not crossed the creek 
at the point where we had expected to do so, we had avoided 
the house which was the rendezvous of the Eebel guards. A 
road was Aoon reached, on which we walked with much energy, 
and the clothing next our bodies soon became dry of the damp- 
ening effects, of the plunging and stumbling in Craig's Creek. 
Daylight having broke upon us, we began looking for a hiding- 


place. Owing to the ill luck attending our first day's travel, we 
were induced to fall back on the old plan of lying by in day- 
time. As there were home guards in the country, we thought 
we should feel safer in trusting ourselves to the friendly shelter - 
of the woods during the day. 

Day-break found us on the road where it passed between two 
high ridges of mountains. There was no alternative but to hide 
far up in the side of the ridge east of the road. We began the 
ascent of the ridge, and were not long in gaining its summit; 
and on its eastern slope we halted for the day, among the huge 
rocks. In a short time we cleared a space sufficiently large for 
our bed. Our bedding was a little damp; but as we had lost 
much sleep in the last twenty hours, that circumstance did not 
hinder us from sleeping soundly. We slept until late in the day, 
when we made a fire preparatory to parching corn and roasting 
potatoes. We eat as much as we wished of the potatoes and 
corn, and finding we did not much relisk such fare, since the 
excellent though late supper at Hufifman's the night before, we 
determined to have something better to eat the next day, if pos- 
sible. We resolved that the first house we came to, after setting 
out, should be the scene of an attempt, at least, to get some pro- 
visions. The time of starting having arrived, and all being in 
readiness, we crossed the summit of the ridge and descended to 
the road in the valley. We walked leisurely along the road, 
not wishing to reach the first house too early in the night. 
Near nine o'clock we came to a house on our left, a short distance 
from us. We heard music as we halted, and questioned the 
propriety of entering the house; but finally concluded not to 
forego our resolution to try our hand at procuring supplies. 
We crossed the rail-fence a few steps from the house, and went to 
the door. We opened the door, entered the house, and took 
seats without waiting to be asked to do so. Four or five chil- 
dren were seated before the fire. The oldest, a boy about fifteen 
years old, had been playing the violin. As we entered the house 
the mother of the children stepped out the back door, but did not 
close it entirely. The mother held the door slightly open, and 
listened to what we had to say to the children. On finding we 


talked kindly, she came into the room, and then we made known 
the object of our call at such a time. The woman represented 
herself as being very poor, with a sick husband and five children 
to provide for. She pointed to the bed in the corner in which 
her husband lay. On looking, we saw the unfortunate man, and 
conversed with him.' We learned he had lost his health while 
serving in the Confederate army under Buckner. On account 
of disability, he had been discharged from service, and allowed 
to return to his family. He now belonged to a home guard 
company. In the course of the conversation, the sick man 
claimed he was really a Union man, but had been obliged to yield 
to the pressure of public opinion, and had been conscripted into 
the army. He now belonged to the home guards, to keep from 
being again sent to the front. He said he would gladly give us 
something to eat, but as it was beyond his ability to do so, he 
could only direct us to a man who could provide for us. After 
giving us particular directions how we should find the home of 
William Faxton, he said no more. We bade the sick man and 
family " good-night," and left the house. Before we had reached 
the fence, one of the children opening the door called out to us 
to wait a minute. We waited, and the boy brought us one 
corn-dodger. Taking it, we expressed our thanks, and went on 
our way. 

On getting some distance from the house, we debated as to 
the propriety of seeking Paxton's aid. We feared Paxton was a 
Bebel. It seemed strange that a late follower of Buckner, and 
a Confederate home guard, should give directions to escaping 
Federals ; but as he had given us bread from his limited supply, 
and had told us just how to avoid and get around a certain 
house where Confederate guards often met,, we concluded to fol- 
low his directions, if possible, and if we found things as rep- 
resented, we would go to Paxton's. 

It was seven miles to Paxton's house, which was situated on 
the road as it passed over a mountain. After going some four 
miles on the road, we came to the house where the Eebels con- 
gregated. It was near the road, and lights shone from all the 
windows. We passed some distance south of it, but near enough 


to hear the noise of revelry. At a point nearly two miles west 
of this house, we should have gone on the mountain; but owing 
to the indistinctness of the road, and the darkness of the night, 
we missed our way. When we found we were off the right 
track, we retraced our steps for over a mile. As it was near 
morning we began a careful search for the point where the 
mountain road led off to the left from the other, and found it 
just at day-break. We could now do nothing but look out for 
a hiding-place for the day, Sunday, March 6th. 

According to the account of the sick man, we were hid but 
little more than a mile from Faxton's abode. Our retreat for 
the day was close to a spring, where we could wash and get 
water to drink. In the evening, fearing ramblers would come 
to the spring, we moved further from it. Having eaten our 
corn-dodger the preceding night, we were obliged to resort for 
subsistence to the remnant of roasted potatoes and corn left over 
from yesterday's fare. The day seemed long, but it wore away, 
and we took up our line of march, near nine o'clock, P. M., for 
Faxton's house. In less than two hour's time we came to a 
house answering the description we had received. We passed 
through the gate in front and approached the door. We rapped 
gently, and were invited by an old man to come in. As we were 
being seated, one of our party asked the old man if his name 
was Faxton. He answered that it was; and wished to know 
how and where we had learned his name. We told him, and he 
seemed much surprised, as our informant had been considered 
by him as a disunionist. All had retired to sleep at Faxton's ex- 
cepting himself. We told him we wished something to eat, and 
he immediately called his two daughters to get our supper for 
us. Faxton knew we were Federals, and made no attempt to 
conceal his Union sentiments. While waiting for supper, we 
conversed on war topics, on prison life, and our trip since leav- 
ing prison. When supper was announced, we sat down to a 
table bountifully supplied with food. While we were eating, an 
old man stopped at Faxton's, who had been out from Fincastle, 
where he lived, to take a woman to her home in the country. 
This new-comer did not seem to notice us until we had finished 


supper and taken seats before tLe fire. As I was sitting next 
bim, he took hold of my pants at the knee, and inquired rather 
roughly, " Where do you belong ?" Not knowing what answer 
to make, under the circumstances, to such a question, I merely 
turned my head, and glanced at my three comrades, who in turn 
looked immediately to the old man Paxton, who very quickly 
spoke up saying, "They belong to the 22d, which you know is 
stationed at the bridge." Paxton immediately added, "They 
have been home on furlough, their time is up, and they are now 
on their way to the bridge." The old Fincastle man seemed 
satisfied with Paxton's explanation. One of our party soon after 
observed, as he was rising from his seat, " Well, boys, we must 
be off now; we must put in an appearance at the bridge as soon 
as possible." We then gathered our things and went out of the 
house. As we passed out, Paxton was seating the Fincastle man 
at the supper table. That done, he opened the door, and said 
to us, "Boys, you'll find it cold leveling over the mountain 

"Yes," said Wood, laughing, " but we '11 only walk the faster 
and get to the bridge sooner." 

Paxton then came out, closing the door behind him. He told 
us the old fellow at the supper table was a notorious Rebel. As 
Paxton wished to get in the house as soon as possible, to attend 
io his Bebel guest, thus keeping down suspicion, he told us 
where and how to find the house of Bobert Childs, who lived 
eleven miles from there. Childs, he said, was a good Union 
man, and his wife was a true Union woman, who would be glad 
to help us on our way. On getting over the mountain, and 
reaching a point about seven miles from Paxton's, we were to 
turn to our right, and go north four miles to another road, on 
which Childs lived. 

We then set out anew on the night's travel. In two hours' 
time we had traveled, as we thought, about seven miles, and we 
called at a house and inquired of a negro how far we were from 
the road leading north to the mill. We were told it weja half a 
mile east of there; and without delay we hastened back on the 
road a short distance, and began looking carefully for the turn- 


ing off place. We soon found it, and also found much diflSculty 
ahead of us. The road, it seemed, was a new one, having been 
cut but recently through a heavy wood. We made slow prog- 
ress ; we stumbled often over stumps and rocks. The moon was 
shining, but its light scarcely reached our pathway, as the dense 
woods closely hedged it in. We trudged slowly on, and reached 
Childs's Mill before day-break. The mill was near the point 
where the road we had been following intersected another run- 
ning east and west. Although it was not yet day, we concluded 
to call on Childs at his house, tell him our wants, and ask him 
to show us where we could stop for the day and be safe. 

We halted opposite the house, and Sutherland went into the 
yard and rapped at the door, but no answer came. He next at- 
tempted to raise a window, but a woman's voice protested against 
it. Sutherland then inquired if Ghilds was at home, and the 
woman answered that he was not. The woman's tone of voice 
plainly indicated that she was considerably frightened; so we 
determined to seek a hiding-place in the forest. When we had 
found a suitable place, we made our bed and lay down on it to 
sleep. Morning was faintly appearing when we lay down, and 
we heard chickens crowing in the distance. In about two hours' 
time we awoke, and found the sun shining brightly. We con- 
sulted briefly as to what we should do, and determined that one 
of our party should go back to Childs's house, to see if he had 
got home, and to get something to eat, as we had brought 
nothing with us from Paxton's on account of the presence of the 
Fincastle Rebel. Each of us was anxious to perform the errand, 
and we drew cuts to see which of us should go upon it. It fell 
to my lot, and I at once started. 

As it was early in the morning, I encountered no persons 
upon the road. On reaching the house I rapped moderately at 
the door. Mrs. Childs first looked at me through the window, 
and then admitted me. I first told her I was one of those who 
had called at the house before day. I then asked her if her 
husband had got home. She answered that he had not. I asked 
when she expected him. She answered that he would be at 
home by ten o'clock in the day. She then inquired what busi- 


nees we were on, and what we wanted with her husband. I told 
her we had been prisoners of war at Danville, and had been try- 
ing for -over two weeks to make our way through the Confederacy 
to the Federal forces. I told her of our stopping at Paxton's,, 
and of his directing us to Robert Childs. At this Mrs. Ghilds 
seemed surprised, and remarked that Paxton would better be in 
other business than giving aid to Federals. Mrs. Childs talked 
very much like a Rebel, and though I could hardly understanol 
the situation, I felt no uneasiness. After further talking I asked 
her if she could furnish us something to eat. She said she 
supposed she could, but wasn't in the habit of feeding rov- 
ing squads of soldiers. She then asked me to sit up to the 
table and eat with her; but I declined, telling her if she would 
allow me to carry a dishful to the woods, and share it with my 
comrades, I would be thankful. Mrs. Childs and her children 
eat their breakfast, while I sat by keeping up the talk with her. 
Shortly after finishing her meal, Mrs. Childs gathered what she 
had left on a large di§h and gave it to me. I thanked her, and 
told her there must be a mistake somewhere, as we had found 
things very different from what Paxton had represented. 

" Paxton do n't know every thing," said Mrs. Childs. 

'^Time alone will settle the matter," said I. I told the 
woman where we were hid, and asked her to send her husband 
to see us when he returned. She answered that she would do so. 

" If you will," said I, " we shall have a friendly talk with 
him, do him no harm, and send your dish back to you." 

I then returned to our retreat in the woods. On the way I 
felt, from some cause, that Paxton was not mistaken in his opinion 
of Mrs. Childs, and that some recent development had made 
necessary her avowal of disunion sentiments. We found the 
provisions furnished by Mrs. Childs very acceptable, whether she 
was a secessionist or not. After finishing our meal we spent the 
time in conjecturing the cause of Mrs. Childs's strange conduct, 
if she was really a Union woman. We became satisfied that, for 
fiome reason yet to be explained, she had only pretended to be a 
devotee of the Confederacy. 

Near noon Robert Childs came to us in the woods. He 


approached us with extreme caution, and looked as if he would 
rather not see us. We talked with him an hour or more. 
During the whole conversation he upheld the Confederacy. He 
could not imagine how Fazton got the impression he was a Union 
man or a disloyal citizen. We asked Childs if he should take 
any steps to recapture us. He replied that he would do nothing 
either to help or hinder us. To this we replied, that we could 
ask no more from a " Secesh." He started home when we gave 
him the dish, and told him we were grateful to his wife and to 
him for what we had received from them. We urged Childs to 
call on us again before night. He said he would if he had time, 
and then went homeward. 

Near four o'clock, F. M., he came out again to see us, and 
remained with us until near sunset. The tenor of his conver- 
sation was the same as in the morning. He had no word of en- 
couragement to give us, and, of course, offered us no assistance. 
It was growing late, and we began getting ready to travel. We 
continued talking with Childs, however, and Smith said to him, 

"I suppose you have n't reported us, have you?" 

" I 've seen nobody to report to," he answered. 

" Has n't any one been to mill ?" inquired Smith. 

" 0, one or two," answered Childs, '* but they were in a hurry, 
and did n't stay long?" 

" You did n't say any thing about us, then ?" asked Wood. 

" I did n't say a word about you to any body," said Childs. 

Sutherland then said, '' I '11 be switched if I do n't believe he 
is a Union man after all." 

Childs manifesting some uneasiness, then said in an em- 
phatic manner, " Do n't fool yourselves about that, boys." 

Sutherland then asked, ''Did you ever see or hear of any 
Yankee prisoners escaping through here before ?" 

Childs said he had heard of a squad passing through about 
six weeks before. 

*' How many were there in the squad ?" Smith inquired. 

" Only two, I believe," was the reply. 

"I'll bet," said Smith, "they were Davis and Tige; thej 
^eft the hospital about two months ago." 


Ohilds seemed to evince unusual interest in this remark of 
Smith's. Sutherland then said, "I wonder where Davis and 
Tige are by *hi8 time?" 

" 0, they *ve got through before now," I replied. 

" Unless tney 've been caught and sent back," added Suther- 

Childs then inquired rather anxiously who Davis and Tige 
were. We told him who they were, where we had known them, 
and described them particularly. Davis had been steward at 
the hospital near Danville, and Tige had been a nurse. Childs 
then recanted his secession doctrines, and confessed he was a 
Union man, and had harbored Davis and Tige for three or four 
days. He also explained in full the reasons for his conduct to- 
ward us in pretending to be a Rebel. 

It seems the Confederate commander in that district — General 
Echols, I think it was — ^had adopted a plan of ascertaining who 
were aiding Federal prisoners in their efforts to escape. He had 
dressed small squads of his men in tattered Federal uniforms, 
armed them with weapons concealed about their persons, and had 
sent them over the country to such persons as were suspected 
of Unionism; to whom they would apply for food and other as- 
sistance in making their way to the Union lines. These squads 
were called " bogus Yankees " by the Union people, who learned 
to keep continually on the guard against falling victims to their 
deceptive practices. Many true Union citizens of the South 
were made prisoners by the ''bogus Yankees," taken from their 
homes, and imprisoned at Bichmond, Atlanta, and other points, 
for many months. 

Childs thought we were ''bogus," and was glad enough to 
help us when he found the contrary was true. Faxton had not 
yet learned of the "bogus Yankees," and Childs had only been 
put on his guard a day or two before by hearing of the arrest 
and carrying off in irons of one of his Union friends, who had 
the misfortune to fall into the hands of the impostors. Childs 
said he would take it upon himself to go and see his friend Pax- 
ton, and warn him of the danger of playing into false hands. 
Bobert Childs, in treating us as he had, only thought he was 


evading arrest and a hopeless imprisonment. He first assured 
himself of our genuineness ; then, knowing our actual need of as- 
sistance, he did not withhold it. It was purely accidental — per- 
haps Providential — that our real character became known to 
Childs. The allusion to Davis and Tige was the merest accident 
in the world, but proved sufficiently powerful to dispel the mys- 
tery we had been unable to solve. 

The day, March 7th, was drawing to its close. It was time 
for us to resume our secret march. Before we set out Childs 
went to his house and brought us enough provisions for one meal, 
which was all that we required, as he then gave us particular 
directions as to how we should find the house of David Hepler, 
another good Union man, only eight miles away. We then parted 
with Childs, who had so recently proved our friend, in a better 
mood than we had anticipated an hour before. We were sorry 
we could remain no longer with him after he had found us also 
true, and of the number in whom he could confide. 



r' was near sunset when we separated from Childs. Just be-^ 
fore dark we felt uncertain as to whether we had not got off 
the route to Hepler's. As there was a house a short distance 
to our left, we concluded to inquire the way, as we preferred 
risking a little to getting bewildered in the darkness. We found 


one youDg woman and two older ones at the house. On seeing 
us they seemed badly scared, and were about to forsake their 
dwelling as we entered it, leaving us in full possession. After 
some entreaty on our part, the young woman came in cautiously 
and deferentially, and was followed by the older ones. Our in- 
quiries were principally addressed to the young woman, the older 
ones standing near gazing in mute astonishment. In the course 
of the talk we had occasion to acknowledge that we were 
Yankees, when one of the old women blurted out, " I 'd say 1 I 
thought they had horns." 

*' We do have, sometimes," said Wood, "but not lately." 
On gaining the information desired, we resumed our journey. 
By eight o'clock we had traversed the rough, broken country ly- 
ing between Ohilds's and Hepler's house. We found Hepler on 
the look out for false Unionists ; but as Childs had told us Davis 
and Tige had been befriended by him — Hepler — we found no diffi- 
culty in proving our genuineness to him. Near nine o'clock we 
took supper at Hepler's table, and after a two hours' talk, we 
were comfortably lodged in his house. After breakfasting the 
next morning, having got ready to set forth again on our jour- 
ney, we bade Hepler's family adieu, and he conducted us to the 
top of a lofty range of mountains, at the base of which his house 
stood. Having reached the highest elevation in the mountain, 
Hepler pointed out to us another range upon which the home of 
William Lewis was situated. The exact locality of Lewis's 
house was pointed out, although we could scarcely see it, and 
were eight and a half miles distant. Hepler told us we could 
go to Lewis's in day-time without much risk, but it would be 
impossible for strangers to go over the route by night. He also 
informed us that it was probable we could get Lewis to guide 
us a portion of, if not all, the way to the Federal lines. On 
hearing some further instructions to enable us to find our way 
more easily, we bade our friend adieu, and left him. It was 
fully ten o'clock in the day when we set out on our journey to 
Lewis's house. We crossed two ridges, as many valleys, and 
many small rivulets of the mountains before reaching our object- 
ive point. On commencing the ascent of a third ridge, we 


found a path of which Hepler had spoken. We then knew we 
were on the ridge upon which we would find the house of a 
friend. We took the path as a guide, and followed its devious 
course. When little more than half-way up the mountain side 
we met two men and a woman and child. The men were on 
foot. The woman, with her child in her arms, was on horseback. 
The largest man was carefully leading the horse down the mount- 
ain path. No word was spoken at this meeting, each party 
maintaining silence and casting suspicious glances at the other. 
Soon after we gained the top of the ridge, and came in sight of 
Lewis's house, situated in a bowl-shaped depression in the lop 
of the mountain. We did not wish to go to the house while it 
was yet day, for fear of finding some Secessionist there, and thus 
placing Lewis as well as ourselves in an embarrassing situation. 
We went aside from the path nearly two hundred yards, and 
hid in the brush. We found we had stopped in a place from 
which we could watch the house. Our position also commanded 
a view of the path we had just left, and of persons that might 
pass upon it. 

It was near four o'clock, P. M., when we halted. We kept 
our eyes at intervals on the house and its immediate surround- 
ings, but saw no person during the evening. One dog, a calf,, 
and a few chickens, were the only living objects visible. The 
doors of the house were closed, and we concluded Lewis and his 
family had gone from home ; but as smoke was issuing from the 
chimney, we hoped they would return by dark. We feared the 
man we had met leading the horse was Lewis with his family, 
going with a friend to make a visit. If so, we should be delayed, 
we thought, in our journey, and be compelled to push on without 
seeing him. We decided to wait until dark in our hiding-place, 
and see if Lewis would return. Just after sunset the man we 
had met on the mountain, leading the horse, went along the path 
to Lewis's premises. He was leading a horse, and was accom- 
panied by two other men, each leading horses. They first put 
their horses in the stable and fed them. They then chopped 
some wood at the wood-pile and carried it to the house. Dark- 
ness came on, and we saw sparks flying from the chimney top. 


Feelings of joyous gratitude heaved our bosoms as we felt cer- 
tain we should soon meet Lewis and enjoy the company and con- 
solations of a native thorough-bred Union man. We were 
destined to meet with disappointment, however, and to experience 
difficulties from which a mere allusion to Davis and Tige woul<l 
not relieve us. 

In less than an hour after dark we left our position in the 
thicket and went to the house. We knocked three times before 
we were told to come in. With a show of reluctance on the 
part of the three men, we were furnished seats near the fire. 
Wood, addressing the largest of the men, asked, '* Your name is 
Lewis, I suppose?" 

'' No, but Lewis is a brother-in-law of mine/' was the an- 

" Well, this is Lewis's house, is it ?" Wood asked. " We were 
told it was." 

" Where is Lewis ?" inquired Sutherland. 

" I do n't know,'' said the man, '' he has n't been at home fox 
several days." 

" What 's your name ?" continued Sutherland, 
k " My name is Hepler." 

"Are you akin to David Hepler ?" Sutherland asked. 

"Yes, David Hepler is my father," replied the iQan, at the 
same time turning very pale. 

Judging Hepler was fearful some great calamity had befedlen 
his father through the agency of " bogus Yankees," I said, " You 
think we are Bebels," and Smith immediately added, " We have 
not harmed a hair of your father's head." 

We assured Hepler we were real Union soldiers, honestly 
endeavoring to make our way from prison to our lines. 

** I do n't know so well about that," said Hepler, " but as for 
myself, I belong to the Confederate army." 

We then told him we knew he belonged to the Confederate 
army, and knew, too, that he was a Union man, having been 
informed of those facts by his father. David Hepler had told us 
how his son, in the earlier months of the war, had hid himself 
among the rocks and caverns of the mountains for more than 


eighteen months, and how at last he was caught by the BebelSy 
and conscripted into the army. 

We spent some time, two hours at least, in trying to convince 
young Hepler we were not " bogus," but all in vain. He said 
he knew what he was, and supposed we knew what we were, and 
was going to have nothing to do with Federal prisoners, unless 
it would be to catch them and take them to Jim Crow's. As he 
spoke thus he directed our attention to a stack of guns in the 

** There 's as many of us as there is of you/' suggested Wood, 
" when it comes to that." 

** Jim Crow's " was a small town a few miles distant, as we 
afterward learned. 

We became satisfied that our efforts to procure assistance, or 
derive information from young Hepler and his associates would 
prove unavailing, as they refused to answer our questions as to 
the roads, the streams, or the nature of the country west and 
north of us, and refused us the shelter of the house until morn- 
ing. We, however, understood the situation perfectly, knowing 
that the only difficulty with us was our inability to furnish satis- 
factory proof of our genuineness as real "Yankees.'- Hepler 
having been absent in the service, knew nothing of Davis and 
Tige, or of the aid his father had rendered them, and our telling 
him of them was of no avail. We could not establish our char- 
acter as escaping Federals to the satisfaction of those who, we 
knew, would have been our friends could we have done so, but 
were compelled to leave them under the impression we were really 
soldiers of the Confederacy. 

Near eleven o'clock that night, March 8th, we left the house 
of Lewis not a little discomfited. Where we had expected as- 
sistance and encouragement we met only with disappointment 
and defeat. We felt our defeat more keenly in consequence of 
the certainty we felt that Hepler and his associates would have 
been quite willing, even anxious, to aid us on our way had they 
been assured beyond a doubt as to our real character. 

After we had gone out of the house we halted at the fence, 
a few steps from the door, and consulted briefly as to the course 

Troobuk at Lawia'a House."— Pagb B3. 


to pursue. Our situation was critical in the extreme. We were 
in Alleghany county, in the midst of the rugged and barren 
mountains, where the country was thinly inhabited. We had 
no supplies with us, as we had left David Hepler's expecting to 
get food at Lewis's. We soon determined to return to David 
Hepler's, tell him of the situation at Lewis's house, and see if 
he could give us other directions to follow. Smith suggested 
that young Hepler might be willing to go with us to his father 
if we should wait until morning. Smith called to him to come 
out, saying, "We wish to talk with you." 

Hepler did not come out; but on being called the third time 
he came to the door and said, ''Kill me in the house if you 
want to ; I sha' n't come out there to be killed." 

We were trying to assure him that we would do him no harm 
when he closed the door in our faces and barred it. We then 
started away from the house, going about a mile east of it. Near 
the mountain top we halted until daylight of March 9th. The 
sky was overcast with clouds, threatening rain, when we stopped, 
and we felt very much disheartened. Our hopes were exultant 
before going to Lewis's house. We expected to get assistance 
there, and possibly a guide to conduct us on our way; but all 
had failed. We felt we had been turned empty away from the 
house of a friend, and Nature it seemed was about to frown on 
us. We came near regretting the start we had made from prison. 
One consolation, however, was left us; if there was any change 
in our prospects it would be for the better. 

We made preparations for sleep, but there was little sleep 
for us that night. Before day rain commenced falling, and we 
were obliged to fold our blankets, to keep them as dry as possible. 
We leaned against trees, and so disposed our coats over our 
shoulders as to shed most of the rain off until daylight. As 
soon as we could see our way plainly we set out on our return 
to David Hepler's. We had a very disagreeable time in walking 
over the mountains in a drenching rain shower. We reached 
Hepler's just at twelve o'clock. We found him at home. He 
was very much surprised, even astonished, at seeing us again. 
He even dreaded to see us, as he at once concluded his time had 


comi to surrender himself a prisoner into the hands of sham 
Yankees, his country's worst enemies. We soon explained to 
him the reason for our return, telling him all that had trans^ 
pired since separating from him the morning before. He im- 
mediately conjectured that Lewis had fallen a victim to ** bogus 
Yankees/' and said he would go to-morrow to see his son, with 
whom we had met at Lewis's house, and ascertain what had be- 
come of him. After taking dinner with Hepler's family we went 
some distance up the mountain-side and hid ourselves among the 
rocks. The rain continued; but we could not shelter under 
Hepler's roof, as it would not do, either for Hepler or ourselves, 
to be found there by Bebel citizens. Near night our suppers 
were brought to us by Hepler. Soon after dark we took refuge 
from the storm in a small log hut near the road, which passed 
through Hepler's premises. Early in the morning of March lOtb 
we breakfasted at Hepler's table, and soon after hid for the day 
among the rocks of the mountains. At noon our dinner was 
brought to us by Hepler's wife and daughter. 

At night Hepler brought our suppers out, and reported the 
information he had received from his son concerning Lewis. As 
had been conjectured, a squad of Confederates had called at 
Lewis's house, and solicited his services as a guide to conduct 
them to the Union lines. As they were dressed in blue, and 
represented themselves as Federal prisoners trying to escape, 
Lewis consented to conduct them as far as Greenbrier River. 
After the necessary preparations, he started with them from his 
house, and, when only a few hundred yards away, these "bogus 
Yankees" suddenly presented their revolvers and made him their 
prisoner. His captors conducted him to White Sulphur Springs, 
and from that place he was sent, in company with three or four 
others, under a strong guard, to Richmond. 

David Hepler's son was a brother-in-law of Lewis. At the 
time we were at Lewis's house, young Hepler and those with 
him had come there to get the household goods belonging to the 
family, intending to carry them over the mountain on horses the 
next morning. It was young Hepler, with Lewis's wife and 
child, accompanied by another person, that we had met cm the 


mountain. Mrs. Lewis and her child, and the plunder, were 
moved to her father's house, to remain during her husband's 
captivity, or longer if he died. Had young Hepler known we 
were not " bogus," and not trying to deceive him, we could have 
had all the provisions we desired when at Lewis's house, and 
could have been sheltered there until morning. But, unhappily, 
we had been unable to convince him of our honesty of purpose, 
and as he was determined to avoid the calamity which had be- 
fallen his brother-in-law, he felt obliged to deny us all ''aid and 

In the evening of March 10th the rain ceased and the 
weather became cooler. On the morning of the 11th the mount- 
ains were covered with snow. During the day the snow melted 
away, and the mountain streams became swollen and almost im- 
passable. While waiting for the waters to subside, we mended 
our shoes and other clothing, and washed our shirts. The pegs 
and other materials for cobbling were furnished by Hepler. We 
parched a quantity of com, to carry with us on going forth anew 
on our journey. During our stay Hepler tried to procure a 
guide to conduct us to the lines, but failed. One man whom he 
tried to enlist in our behalf, although a good Union man, refused 
to have any thing to do with us, alleging we would yet prove 
spurious. Hepler would have guided us as far as the Greenbrier 
River, had not his aged parents, who were in a feeble condition, 
been under his care. 

On the morning of March 12th we took leave of Hepler and 
his family. In our most cheerless hour of adversity we had 
found with them a harboring place. They befriended us when 
we were encompassed by enemies and suspected by friends. 
During the days of rain and snow, and swollen streams, we in- 
curred a debt we can not easily repay. We are under lasting 
obligations to them. Having been provided with sufficient food 
to last us two days, we set out for the lines afresh. Hepler 
could send us to no one who could direct us on our way, and we 
went westward until we came to Lewis's house. We reached it 
before three o'clock in the evening. We watched in its vicinity 
for over an hour, and saw no one; not even the dog, the calf, or 


smoke curling from the chimney, could be seen as when we had 
watched it before. We went to it, and finding the doors securely 
fastened, we judged there was something inside worth looking 
after. We thought we might get a supply of provisions that 
would partially compensate us for the disappointment of our first 
visit to the house. We entered it through the window, and 
levied on all we could find that would do to eat. A small sack 
nearly full of meal, a cup of salt, a part of a ham of meat and 
a ham of venison, were obtained as the fruits of our seizure. 
We got out of the house with our commissary stores, taking an 
iron pot with us, and went west about a mile into a gorge 
through which ran a small stream of water. Here we halted, 
built a fire, and made mush by the quantity. After eating to 
our satisfaction, we had enough left for breakfast the next morn- 
ing. By ten o'clock that night we had made our arrangements 
for a comfortable sleep. We rested well. 

With the first dawning of morning light on the 13th, Wood 
and Sutherland returned to Lewis's house and got four case- 
knives, one for each of our party, a file, and a tin cup. The 
file we thought would be of use in* loosening canoes or in opening 
smoke-houses as a last resort in procuring food. We completed 
our preparations for the day's travel, and were on our way 
shortly after sunrise. The country traversed was very rough 
and mountainous, being little more than a barren waste. It 
would have been impossible for us to have made our way over 
it in the night-time. We saw no person during the day. When 
foUow^ing high ridges we occasionally saw huts and houses in the 
valley on either side below us. Sometimes we could see smoke 
when the house or chimney from which it came was concealed. 
Just after sunset we halted in a depression of the ridge we had 
been following, prepared our suppers, and made ready for the 
night's rest. As near as we could estimate, we had traveled 
during the day about fourteen miles in a north-west course. The 
night was passed in quiet sleep. 

On the morning of the 14th we awoke before day. On get- 
ting up we rebuilt our fire, and hastily prepared our breakfast. 
Soon after we were equipped for our day's journey. We were 


in exoeHent qiiritB. We ooold bnt oontnsi our feelings with 
those we had ezperieaced in the early nKuning, ntter our signal 
dis^pointment at Lewis's hoose. Then we were diaoonraged and 
baffled, now we were dieorfhl and hcqpefiaiL The sky was dear, 
the air was pore and Inracingy and we made good progres s . We 
traTeled qoite fifteen miles in a directicm a little ncMTth of west, 
over the ridges, TaUeys, and streams of the mountain districts. 
At night we halted in the valley, where water was conveniMit. 
After making a fire, we spent an hoar or m<»re in preparing and 
eating oar 8aj^)er8. Oar sleep daring the night was refireshing. 

Before sanrise on the 15th we had finished oar break&st. 
Oar fNTOvisions were not yet exhausted, and Uiere was no need 
of ranning any nsks in replenishing oar stock. We traveled 
only aboat six miles before discovering that the country became 
more open and more thickly settled. It was prudent for us to 
go no farther in day-time. We accordingly locdced about for a 
safe retreat f<Hr the residue of the day. After finding a place in 
the woods in which we thought we could trust ourselves, we 
devoted the greater part of the day to sleep, as we expected to 
travel at night. Just at dark we were ready to move. The 
first thing necessary on settihg out was to find a road <m which 
to traveL Our joumeyings of the past three days had heesi off 
the roads, across mountains and valleys, in a rough, broken 
country, almost inaccessible to travelers except on foot or on 
horseback. We found much difficulty in finding a road that 
would lead us aright. We kept on the move, however, taking 
care that our steps should be toward the goal we wished to gain. 

A little after midnight we halted, as the sky became cloudy, 
and we could not see our way plainly before us. We went some 
distance north of the last road we had been following, and made 
our bed in the woods. Very soon after lying down we fell 
asleep. On waking up on the morning <^ the 16th, we found 
the ground covered with snow. Getting up we found the air 
very cooL We set about collecting saitable material for building 
a fire, but on searching for our matches we found we had lost 
them. As it was too cool for comfort without briskly exercising 
ourselves, we determined to set out in a northern direction. 



After getting our things in readiness we started through the 
woods. We had proceeded but little more than a mile before 
we reached an open space. In crossing it we noticed not far to 
our left, just beyond the crest of a hill, a small log cabin. Smoke 
was issuing from the mud and stick chimney and curling gently 
upward. After a moment's deliberation we concluded we should 
hazard little in visiting the tenants of this humble abode and 
warming at their fire. We did so, and found the two women 
and one boy whom we found there to be friendly and disposed 
to make us comfortable. While waiting half an hour for a warm 
breakfast we learned we were in Greenbrier county, and within 
three miles of the Greenbrier Biver. Having ascertained that 
the folks were Unionists, we questioned them concerning the 
people in the surrounding country. We learned that the Rebel 
element held sway and that the few Union people were 5bliged 
to keep their sentiments to themselves. 

Breakfast over, we set out again on our travels. Before 
leaving the cabin we discovered that snow had commenced fall- 
ing. We had not gone far until the large flakes almost blinded 
us as they fell. We felt certain no one would be out on such a 
wintery day, and we thought we should incur but little risk in 
pushing forward to the river. Near ten o'clock we reached it, 
and began looking up and down the bank for a canoe in which 
to cross. After the snow had almost ceased falling, we were pass- 
ing through a sugar-camp and came suddenly to two women, who 
were turning the troughs over. As they had seen us plainly, 
we being within a few yards of them when we first noticed them, 
we did not try to avoid them. We approached nearer the women, 
and one of our party made some observation on the state of the 
weather, and Sutherland added, '^It's a bad day to be out." 
One of the women, smiling, answered, "I'll guess you are out 
a good piece from home." 

On being questioned further, we told the women who we were, 
where we were from, and the point we were aiming to reach. 
They told us their " men folks " were in the Kanawha Valley, 
which was within the Union lines. We were not long in assor- 
:ng ourselves that the women^ as well as their ''men folks/' were 


Strong Unionists, We were invited to the house. We accepted 
the invitation, and were soon seated before the fire, where we 
remained for a few minutes. Just before noon the women told 
us they were poor and unable to furnish us a meal, but Mrs. 
Mann, who lived about a mile back from the river, was not only 
able, but willing to keep us over until the following night, if we 
wished to stop so long as that. The eldest woman had already 
gone to Mrs. Mann's to see if any Secessionists were there. She 
soon returned, accompanied by two of Mrs. Mann's little boys, 
who were to conduct us by an obscure way to their mother's 
house. As no one was at Mrs. Mann's, we started immediately 
to her house, her boys leading the way. These boys were quite 
young — aged about nine and eleven years — but seemed to under- 
stand perfectly the necessity of our keeping out of sight of the 

We arrived at the house of Mrs. Mann by one o'clock. A 
little after two o'clock we took dinner. The dinner reminded us 
of the days gone by, and made us think we were almost home 
again. After dinner we conversed at length with Mrs. Manji 
and her family, treating mainly of the war as it affected the 
Union people of the South. Mrs. Mann had been despoiled of 
much property during the war by Confederates; and soon after 
the breaking out of hostilities her husband had been arrested 
because he would not forsake his Union principles. He had been 
imprisoned at Bichmond, where, after lingering a few months, he 

In the evening a man was seen approaching the house. When 
he was near enough to be recognized it was ascertained that he 
was a Bebel, and we were sent upstairs forthwith, to remain 
there until he should leave. We were detained nearly an hour 
upstairs, when the "Secesh" having taken leave, we were 
permitted to come down, and were interrupted no more that 

A little after dark we had supper. Soon after supper we be- 
gan our preparations for setting forth on our way, but Mrs. Mann 
urged us to stop until the following night. As we were con- 
siderably worn and fatigued, we decided, after a short consulta- 

« « 


* ■• * 

* • . « • 

• » • * 

too A 8T0BY 0% THE WAB. 

tion, to do 80. We passed the night of March 16th in Mrs. 
Mann's haymow. We could not stop in the house for the reason 
that a Bebel doctor firom Frankfort was expected there that 
night to see a sick child. On the morning of the 17th, after the 
doctor had gone, we returned to the house for breakfast, and re- 
mained there during the day. When any one was seen coming 
we went upstairs, being very careful not to leave any caps be- 
hind to excite inquiries. 

About four o'dock, P. M., a young man called at Mrs. Mann's, 
who belonged to a Union fiekmily west of the river. He offered 
to conduct us, after dark, to a man who would guide us some 
distance on our way, and give us directions to follow which woull 
lead us to (Pauley Biver. We eagerly accepted the offer. Our 
delay of twenty-four hours, it seemed, was going to prove profit- 
able. We had sapper just at dark, and soon after our prepara . 
tions for the journey were complete. Our haversacks were filial 
with food sufficient to last us two or three days. We tenderel 
our sincere thanks to Mrs. Mann and family for generous treat- 
ment received, and bade them farewell. 




OIJE volunteer guide mounted his horse and started to the 
ford, some distance up the river, to cross it, while we were 
conducted to a point below, where there was a canoe, by Mrs. 
Mann*8 two boys. On reaching the river, and being told by the 
boys to fasten the canoe to the opposite shore, we said "good- 
by " to them, and set about crossing. In about twenty minutes. 

« . 

; •'• 

- ■< • r • - , * • 

' • - - • • 

* - » • • • 


after running aground two or three times, and being compeUed 
to get out into the water to set the canoe afloat again, we landed 
on the opposite bank. After securing the canoe, we took our 
shoes and socks off, drained the water from our shoes and wrung 
our socks dry. We then put on our socks and shoes, and laced 
the latter securely, and hastened to join xmr guide at the point 
previously agreed upon. We were soon on the way, our guide 
on horseback going some distance in advance on the road. In 
little more than an hour we reached the home of our guide. 
We waited close by for a few minutes while he put his horse 
away. He then conducted us on foot to a point within a mile 
of James Alderman's house, and then he returned homeward. 

Following instructions we had received, we soon reached the 
house of the man whose services as a guide we expected to se- 
cure to conduct us on our journey. As we approached it the 
dogs set up a furious barking. Mrs. Alderman soon succeeded 
ill quieting the dogs, and we entered the house. On seeing no 
one but the woman, we asked where Alderman was. The woman 
said he was n't at home, and she did n't know exactly where he 
had gone. We made known our object in calling at such a late 
hour in the night, it being near midnight. Mrs. Alderman was 
evidently alarmed at our coming. She wished to know how we 
loarned that Alderman lived there. We told her a young man 
named Oillilan had piloted us to the foot of the ridge, and di- 
riveted us how to find the house. We told her further that the 
young man had informed us her husband would conduct us a 
portion of the way to the Union lines. The woman's fear seemed 
to be allayed on hearing this, and she stepped out the door and 
called her husband. Mr. Alderman soon made his appearance, 
but acted as if he was not sure we were there on an honest 
errand. When his dogs commenced barking he had hurried out 
of bed, and gone to the woods to secrete himself — ^as he had 
often done before — from the Confederate guards, who were on 
the watch for him to impress him into the service. Our business 
was soon made known to Alderman, and he consented to con- 
duct us as far on our way as we could travel by four o'clock the 
r.ext day. 


It was after midnight when we made our bed on the floor of 
Alderman's cabin, to rest until the light of the 18th dawned. 
By sunrise we had breakfasted, and were on the way, Mr. 
Alderman going ahead of us several steps. Alderman carried 
his flint-lock gun with him, saying he ''might shoot something 
before he got back." We suggested the risk in traveling by day- 
light, but Alderman said he would take us over a route where 
we would be seen by none but good Union people. By one 
o'clock we reached a house where lived a family named Bamsey. 
We took dinner with them. Shortly after two o'clock we set 
out again on the way. One of the Bamseys gave us a letter 
to be left at a point twenty miles east of Gtauley Bridge, known 
as the Twenty-mile House. By four o'clock we had reached the 
small stream called Cherry Bun, where we halted under a tem- 
porary shed which had been erected by hunters for shelter. We 
had no matches, and Alderman struck fire with his knife from 
the flint of his gun and kindled a fire for us. After receiving 
from Alderman particular directions how to find his brother-in- 
law's house, on the north side of Gauley Biver, he left us, say- 
ing he " must be at home by midnight." 

We had traveled twenty miles, and had stopped for the night 
in a dense forest, several miles from any house. In all directions 
from our hiding-place the ground was deeply marked by narrow 
paths made by deer going back and forth for water. We made 
our supper on the supplies brought from Mrs. Mann's. We were 
in a place where we would not be likely to be seen, and we kept 
our fire burning until late in the night. Being surrounded by 
dense and darkening woods, with nothing to break the almost 
perfect stillness of the night but the murmurs of the little brook 
near us, we felt very lonely, more so than we had felt before 
on our travels. By ten o'clock we were soundly sleeping. 

We awoke at the break of day on the morning of March 
19th. We breakfasted early and were on the way by sunrise. 
We had only to follow down Cherry Bun to its mouth at Cran- 
berry Creek, and then follow down Cranberry Creek until we 
came to a road crossing it and running on its west side to 
Gauley Biver. The ford on Cranberry Creek was reached before 


three o'clock in the evening. We secreted ourselves in the 
woods south of the road and east of the creek until after dark, 
when we could travel the road in safety. The greater part of 
the evening was passed in sleep. On waking we snatched a 
hasty mealy and made ready for further travels. Soon after dark 
we were on the way. In due time we were wading Cranberry 
Creek at the ford, having first taken off our shoes and socks. 
We found the water very cool, and a little more than ankle 
deep. As soon as we got on our socks and shoes we set out on 
the road for Gauley River. The road led to a ferry on the 
Gauley, near the mouth of Cranberry Creek. It lacked nearly 
two hours of daylight when we reached the ferry. We went 
up Gauley River until we came to Cranberry Creek. We then 
partially stripped ourselves and waded Cranberry Creek to its 
east side. We found the water much deeper and the current 
stronger than when we had crossed it early in the night. 

After dressing ourselves, we went on up the river nearly a 
mile further, and halted in the woods to await the dawn of day. 
We had not long to wait. As soon as we could see our way we 
started on up the river. Soon we noticed a smoke over the river, 
rising through the woods, and a few more steps brought us to a 
point from which a house could be seen. We gave two or three 
loud hallooes, and a man came out of the house and toward the 
river. A few moments more and he was in his canoe and half 
across the stream. As he neared the shore on which we stood 
we asked, "Are you a brother-in-law to Alderman?" He said 
he was, and we exclaimed, "All 's right," with feelings of exulta- 
tion. We were soon set across, and the sun was just rising when 
we sat down to breakfast. 

After breakfast we went to the woods north of the house 
and hid away for the day, March 20th. At noon we returned 
to the house for dinner. Our host stood in the yard while we 
were eating, to notify us of the approach of any one, so we might 
slip into the brush adjoining the yard and hide. We were not 
molested, however, and after making arrangements with our 
host — whose name we can not now recall — to furnish us at our 
hiding-place enough food for two or three meals, we left the 


house. Just at sunset, according to arrangement, we received 
supplies. Our host informed us that his house was forty-eight 
miles east of Gauley Bridge, and twelve miles from Summerville, 
the county seat of Nicholas county. We were also told that the 
road leading from the ferry ran down Gauley River, through 
Summerville, and by the Twenty Mile House, to Gauley Bridge, 
where the nearest Union pickets were posted. Our things having 
been put in readiness, we started out just at dark on our travels. 
In a half hour's time we were upon the road, and making reason- 
able progress in a western dii^ection. 

A little after midnight we reached the suburbs of Summer- 
ville, No lights were anywhere to be seen. Every thing was 
still. ; We stopped and listened carefully for a few moments, 
when, hearing nothing, we advanced briskly through the town on 
the main road. We kept a keen lookout on either side of us as 
we passed through the place. The town seemed fully half burnt 
down. On reaching its western borders we again halted and 
listened, but all was quiet as before. We supposed the place 
might be, at least, a harboring place for scouts. On starting 
we pushed forward rapidly, traveling four miles, if not more, by 
day-break. D^'ring the last hours of the night the weather was 
quite cold, and the early morning was frosty. 

At daylight, on the morning of the 21st, the road was leading 
us through an open country. Ahead of us, over a half mile dis- 
tant, were woods, through which the road passed. We intended 
halting for the day as soon aa we gained the shelter of the woods, 
and we pushed on briskly. Just ahead of us, inside an inclosure 
and beyond a turn of the road, were a few scattering trees. 
Among the trees were two or three hay-stacks. After getting 
around the turn c^ the road, and just as we were leaving the 
stacks in our rear, we discovered an aged man pitching hay to 
his sheep. As he was staring at us, we accosted him with, 
"How, acre you, old fellow?" The old gentleman was au Irish- 
man, and it was only with close attention we could understand 
what he said. We luckily found him strong in his attachment 
to the Union, and too old, as he said, to change his principles. 
He evinced much interest in our welfare, and readily answered 


all our inquiries. He told us it was only twenty-eight and a 
half miles to Gauley Bridge; and that Captain Bamsey's Union 
Scouts were patrolling the country between that place and Sum* 
merville on both sides of Grauley Eiver. He assured us it would 
be perfectly safe to travel the road that day provided we did 
not stop short of the pickets at night. Bebel citizens would 
make no attempt to capture us in day-time, we were told, but 
should they see us hiding for the night they would most likely 
collect a party and take us prisoners. We decided, after con- 
sulting briefly, to push on, at least to the woods, now only a 
quarter of a mile distant. As we started the old man said, " Oo 
on to the bridge, boys, and you '11 be safe ; do n't stop outside the 
pickets." We did not suspect the old man of intending to get 
us into trouble, and his last injunction fully established our faith 
in his Unionism. 

On reaching the woods we stepped aside from the road to 
consider further upon the propriety of going on. We dreaded 
to be retaken on the eve of entering the lines, and we deter- 
mined to avoid such a calamity, if possible. We had twenty- 
eight miles to travel before our safety would be assured. Since 
we had already traveled twenty miles without rmt or sleep, the 
question was. Can we reach the picket-post by dark ? Our reso- 
lution to push on, and reach the goal for which we. had been so 
long striving, was soon formed. We immediately started, and 
in Ifttle more than a half hour's time we came to a house on our 
right. As it was near the . road we went to it and asked for 
breakfast, thinking we needed something in addition to what we 
had to strengthen us, in view of the journey to be accomplished 
that day. We were denied breakfast at first, and had started 
away from the house. As we were passing out the gate one of 
our party observed, "That's a pretty way to treat prisoners 
that 'a been half starved." The old lady overheard the remark 
and called us back. She first assured herself we were escaping 
prisoners, and then set before us what she had cooked. She 
apologized for refusing at first to give us a breakfast, saying she 
thought we were some of the scouts from Ghiuley Bridge, who 
too frequently applied for meals. We were informed it was not 

'ii . 



■m i 

ill % 





t 1 


h I 

. i 



house. Just at sunset, according to arrangement, we i 
fji. I supplies. Our host informed us that his house was fori 

miles east of Gauley Bridge, and twelve miles from Sumn 
the county seat of Nicholas county. We were also told t 
road leading from the ferry ran down Gauley River, t 
Summerville, and by the Twenty Mile House, to Gauley 
where the nearest Union pickets were posted. Our things 
been put in readiness, we started out just at dark on our 
In a half hour's time we were upon the road, and making 
I able progress in a western direction. 

A little after midnight we reached the suburbs of Si 

ville. No lights were anywhere to be seen. Every thi 

'^ still.- We stopped and listened carefully for a few m 

when, hearing nothing, we advanced briskly through the t 

the main road. We kept a keen lookout on either side ( 

we passed through the place. The town seemed fully ha] 

down. On reaching its western borders we again halt 

listened, but all was quiet as before. We supposed tl 

might be, at least, a harboring place for scouts. On i 

we pushed forward rapidly, traveling four miles, if not m 

day-break. During the last hours of the night the weatl 

quite cold, and the early morning was frosty. 

* At daylight, on the morning of the 2l8t, the road was 

I us through an open country. Ahead of us, over a half n 

j tant, were woods, through which the road passed. We ii 

;j halting for the day as soon aa we gained the shelter of the 

i] and we pushed on briskly. Just ahead of us, inside an ii 

j and beyond a turn of the road, were a few scattering 

^ Among the trees were two or three hay-stacks. After 

I \ around the turn <rf the road, and just as we were leav 

I stacks in our rear, we discovered an aged man pitching 

his sheep. As he was staring at us, we accosted hie 

"How, acre you, old fellow?" The old gentleman was ai 

man, and it was only with close attention we could und 

what he said. We luckily found him strong in his atts 

to the Union, and too old, as he said, to change his pr; 

He evinced much interest in our welfare, and readily a 


uncommon to see ''blue coats" passing, which caused us to feel 
leas uneasiness, as we thought we should not be molested on our 

On finishing our breakfast we set out again, having only five 
miles to travel before reaching the Twenty Mile House. We 
arrived at the place by ten o'clock. We called at the principal 
house and left the letter we had brought from Greenbrier 
county. The lady to whom it was addressed happened to be in 
the house, and was exceedingly well pleased to receive it. Many 
questions were asked us concerning the afiairs and people in 
Greenbrier county, but as our information was limited we could 
answer but few of them. After learning the time of day and 
receiving a biscuit apiece, we went on our way. We had 
eight hours or more in which to travel twenty miles, and we 
pressed on with exultant hopes. The soles of our shoes had 
worn considerably, and were too thin to afford adequate protec- 
tion to our feet in walking over a stony road. As a consequence 
our feet became very sore. Smith once concluded he would be 
obliged to stop, and more than once fell far behind. On coming 
to a stream of water, Sutherland, Wood, and I, while waiting 
for Smith to catch up, removed our shoes and socks from our 
feet and waded it. We found the cold water improved our feet ' 
wonderfully. Smith soon came up in any thing but a pleasant 
mood, and was much disheartened besides. He thought we 
" must be in a hurry, keeping so far ahead all the time." We 
answered we were in no hurry, and Wood added, " We had for- 
got a cavalry-man could n't stand marching." We told Smith to 
pull off his shoes and socks and wade the stream. He complied, 
but his feet were so very sore he occupied several minutes in 

On getting our shoes on we again pushed forward slowly. 
At the first house we came to after fording the stream, we in- 
quired the distance to Gauley Bridge. *' Five miles and a half," 
was the answer given us. The sun was more than two hours 
high, but now the journey seemed more doubtful and difficult 
of accomplishment than the journey of twenty-seven miles had 
seemed in the morning. We pressed on, however, and in the 


coarse of an hour we met a man of whom we asked, *' How far 
is it to the pickets ?" " Nearly three miles," was the reply. 
Our feet were sore, our limbs were weary, but our flagging 
spirits revived, and we persistently urged ourselves onward. 
The sun had almost run its daily course. The distance to be 
gone over, before our twenty-four-hour's march was accomplished, 
was gradually growing less. At length the picket-guard was 
reached, and our goal won ; but the sun had gone down and the 
stars were appearing. As the twilight was passing into night 
we approached the sentinel in the road who came out to meet 
and welcome us. Giving each of us a hearty shake of the hand, 
he said, "I know where you are from; will you have some 
coffee T* We replied that we could not object, and were assured 
there was plenty of it at the Company quarters. 

Although we were nearly worn down, almost exhausted, in 
fact, from the effects of twenty-four hours of constant wakeful- 
ness and travel, we felt an indescribable but silent ecstasy of joy 
and thankfulness for our deliverance from the rigorous and 
pinching destitution of Confederate prisons. But in the height 
and fullness of our heart-felt rapture, we did not forget Taylor 
and Trippe, the early companions of our journey. We thought 
it possible they had perished, but hoped they had been more 
fortunate than ourselves. Very soon after passing the pickets 
we went, in company with two or three soldiers of Companies I 
and H, 5th Virginia Infantry, to their quarters in the old town 
of Ghiuley Bridge, where supper, consisting of bread, meat, and 
coffee, was provided us. After supper we visited Captain Dixon, 
of Company. I, 5th Virginia, in his quarters, he having sent 
for us. 

Companies I and H, 5th Virginia, under command of Captain 
Dixon, were stationed at (Pauley Bridge as an outpost from 
Camp Eeynolds, which was below the falls of the Kanawha. 
We remained at the quarters of Captain Dixon during the night 
of March 21st. We did not retire for sleep until a late hour. 
From Dixon we first heard the particulars of the battle of Mis- 
sion Bidge, in which our Companies had participated. We told 
Dixon of the number and condition of the prisoners about Dan- 


ville, and of the strength and disposition of the Bebel garrison 

On March 22d we went to Camp Beynolds^ where we re- 
mained two days, during which time we were furnished by the 
Boldiers and their officers with entire suits of clean clothing. 
In the evening of March 23d each of us wrote a letter to our 
respective homes, to let the folks know we were alive, and once 
more within the Union lines. Our feet having recovered from 
their soreness, we went next day, in company with three or four 
soldiers who were going home on veteran furlough, to Charleston, 
Virginia. On the 25th we got aboard a steamer, the ''Victress 
No. 2,'' and went down the Kanawha to Qallipolis, Ohio, arriving 
there on the day following. On the 28th, having stopped over 
Sabbath in Gallipolis, we boarded the steamer *' C. T. Dumont," 
and went down the river to Cincinnati. At ten o'clock, A. M., 
March 29th, we landed at Cincinnati, and immediately reported 
at Post Head- Quarters, Colonel Swayne, 99th Ohio, commanding. 

After a brief talk with Colonel Swayne, and other officers at 
Head-Quarters, we were told to go to the Soldiers' Home and 
get our dinners, and then return. We started, and had got but 
a few steps from Head-Quarters when the sentinel at the door 
called out to us to come back, that the Colonel wished to speak 
to us. Sutherland, Smith, and I waited on the street, while 
Wood went to see what the Colonel wanted. Swayne asked 
Wood if he would like a furlough, and Wood answered he would. 
The remainder of our party were called in from the street, and 
asked the same question, to which we answered in the affirma- 
tive. Furloughs were immediately filled out, signed by the Post 
commander, and forwarded to Columbus, Ohio, to be approved by 
General Heintzleman, the Department commander. We went to 
the Soldiers' Home, got our dinners, and by two o'clock reported 
again at Head-Quarters, where we received orders to report at 
Lytle Barracks. Each of us was furnished with a pass good for 
five days and nights, giving us the freedom of the city. 

On reaching Lytle Barracks we gave Colonel Swayne's order 
to the Captain commanding. The order required him to admit 
us to the barracks; to issue us the full allowance of rations; to 


issae us clothing, if we desired it; and allow us to pass in and 
oat at all times of day and night until nine o'clock, P. M. On 
the afternoon of the 29th we made out partial descriptive lists, 
and drew new clothing, a full suit each, the next morning. On 
the 30th, after washing and dressing ourselves, we went out into 
the city. On the morning of the 31st our furloughs came from 
Columbus, approved. With our furloughs we received trans- 
portation papers. Early in the day. Wood took the train and 
was off for his home in Western Pennsylvania. Wood, although 
a resident of Pennsylvania, had enlisted in the 26th Ohio Volun- 
teers. Later in the day, Smith and Sutherland left together for 
their homes in Michigan. On being left alone of our party, 1 
went to H. H. Hills's drug store, and remained there over night 
with a friend, from whom 1 learned for the first time of the sad 
losses my Company had sustained in battle at Chickamaugii. 
On April 1st I took breakfast at the Indiana House, and very 
soon after was aboard the cars and homeward bound. I arrived 
home in Georgetown, Illinois, Sunday evening, April 3, 18&1, 
and found my letter written at Camp Beynolds, Virginia, had 
not been received. My visit was unexpected, and the first inti- 
mation my father and folks had received for many weeks that I 
was yet alive, was when I entered the old home. The lettei 
came the next morning, April 4th. 



AS a conclusion to the foregoing imperfect sketches, we will 
briefly narrate an incident which happened after our arrival 
within the lines. On March 23d, at Camp Beynolds, while we 
were writing letters home, a soldier named G-asper came into the 
quarters where we were. As soon as we were at leisure he asked, 
''Are you the boys that came in from prison two days ago ?" 
One of oar party answered we were. Gasper then said he 



had just been writing a letter to»an old friend in Cincinnati, 
whose son was supposed to have been killed at Chickamauga, 
and hearing we had been captured in that battle, he thought he 
would inquire if we knew any person among the prisoners named 
Jack Phillips. 

"Jack Phillips/' repeated Smith, "certainly, I know him." 

"Is it possible r said Oasper. 

"He was in the same prison with me, and in the same mess," 
said Smith. 

"He lived in Cincinnati, did he, and belonged to Company — 
— Regiment, Ohio Volunteers?" asked Oasper. (I have forgotten 
the Company and Begiment to which Phillips belonged.) 

"Yes, sir," said Smith, "we are talking of the same Jack 
Phillips." Smith went on, and described Phillips as to sisse, 
height, appearance, and general characteristics. 

"Same fellow," said Oasper, "but his captain reports seeing 
him fall in battle." 

" Ko doubt of that," said Smith, " I have heard Jack tell 
how he was stunned by a ball grazing his forehead, cutting the 
skin, and leaving a small scar after healing." 

" The captain said Jack's forehead was bleeding when he saw 
him fall," remarked Gasper. 

Oasper concluded Smith's former fellow-prisoner and mess- 
mate was the son of John Phillips, of Cincinnati, to whom he 
was just writing, and said he would finish his letter by giving 
the old man the information Smith had furnished concerning his 
son. Oasper then left us, but returned in the course of an hour, 
saying he had not yet mailed his letter. He wished us to prom- 
ise to call on Mr. Phillips if we passed through Cincinnati. We 
told him we did not know that Cincinnati would lie in our route, 
but should we get there, in our travels, we would call on Mr. 
Phillips if he would give us some clew as to where we might 
find him. Oasper did not know the street on which Mr. Phillips 
did business, but thought it was somewhere near the Public 
Landing. He had also forgotten the street on which Mr. 
Phillips's residence was situated. We, however, promised Oasper 
to inquire for Mr. Phillips if we visited Cincinnati, and if we 


happened to learn either his residence or place of business, to 
call on him and corroborate the statements made in the letter to 
him. On leaving us (Jasper said he would put in a postscript, 
telling Mr. Phillips of us, and of our promise to inquire for him 
if we visited Cincinnati. Gasper was seen no more by us, and 
we gave but little thought to the errand with which he had 
charged us, as we had no idea what route we should take in re- 
joining our commands. 

It was the 30th of March, after we had dressed ourselves 
anew, when Smith came to me in Lytle Barracks, saying, 
"Where's Wood and Sutherland?" 

"Gone to the city," I answered. 

Smith then said, " Suppose we go into the city, look around, 
and make a few inquiries for the old man Phillips." 

"Agreed," said I; "there is one chance in a thousand that 
we may find him." 

We then went into the city, passing up one street and down 
another. Wherever sight or curiosity led us we went. We had 
wandered over the city, or a great portion of it, going into many 
shops and stores, with scarcely a thought of Phillips; but at 
length we came to a corner from which the river and many 
steam-boats lying at the wharves could be seen. Smith stood 
still until I came up, when he said, " Here is the Public Landing." 

"It looks much like it," I replied. 

Smith then asked, " Did n't that man at Gamp Beynolds say 
that Phillips did business near the Public Landing?" 

"I believe he did," said I, after reflecting. "Suppose we 
go in here and inquire for him." 

We stepped in at the first door. It was a confectioner's estab- 
lishment, and there were several men in the room. We looked 
into the show-cases and at other objects of interest, when pres- 
ently all left the room except one elderly looking man and our- 
selves. Just as the old man was filling the stove with coal I 
approached him and asked, "Is there a person doing business 
anywhere in this part of the city named John Phillips?" As 
the old man set his coal bucket down he said, "My name is 
John Phillips." It was the first inquiry we had made and would 

112 A 8T0BT OF THE WAB. 

have been the last, as we were anxious to get back to the bai- 
racks for dinner. After oar surprise had subsided somewhat 
the old gentleman wished to know what we wanted. We told 
him of our promise to a man at Camp Beynolds, Virginia, and 
asked if he had received a letter from a man by the name of 
Gasper. He answered that he had not. After telling him we 
had been prisoners of war, and had come into the lines at Ghiuley 
Bridge about a week before, Smith went on to tell him all he 
knew about ''Jack Phillips" as a prisoner at Danville, Virginia. 
On hearing Smith's account of Jack, the old gentleman, 
bursting into tears^^ said he had long since given his son up as 
dead, and could hardly hope or believe he was yet alive; at 
least he should not tell the news to his family, for fear the man 
we spoke of might be another of the same name. Smith thought 
there could be no mistake, as it would not be likely to happen 
that two of the same name should enlist in the same regiment 
from the same city. ** Strange things sometimes happen in this 
world," observed Mr. Phillips. The old gentleman wished us to 
eat some cakes and pies and drink some wine, of which there 
seemed to be an abundance in the room. We consented, as it 
was noon, and would save us a walk to the barracks for dinner. 
Just aa we had finished eating, a man entered the room holding 
several letters in his hand, two of which he handed to Mr. Phil- 
lips. On opening the first letter Mr. Phillips found it to be the 
one Gasper had written at Camp Reynolds, Virginia. The coin- 
cidence caused Mr. Phillips to conclude his son must yet be 
alive, and he determined to acquaint his family with the news 
he had received. The letter coming to hand, telling about us, 
while we were present to answer for ourselves, and our address- 
ing our first, last, and only inquiry for Mr. Phillips to Mr. Phil- 
lips himself, in a great city, where there were thousands of people, 
seemed strange, and forbade the suspicion that our report was 
untrue. Mr. Phillips invited us to call on him each day during 
our stay in the city. We called on him the next day, March 
31st, which was our last day in Cincinnati. I have since 
learned — though indirectly — that "Jack" afterward died as a 
prisoner, either at Danville, Virginia, or Andersonville, Georgia. 


In last line of page lit) the word "man," siioiikl be Borgeant. 

On page Itil, tlie 74th, and 88th regiments of Illinois 
Volunteers sliotild have been included, to make seven, instead ■ 
of five regiments in Opdyckp's Brigade. 

This omission occurred through a misapprehension of the 
facts. The writer thought these two regiments were constituted 
a "demi" brii;!ide. under command of Colonel Smith of the 88th, 
to net independently of Opdycke, in the battle of Franklin. 

In list of names on page 181}, the name George J. Harrier, 
slionld uot appear. He "as one of the men "ho went to tlie 
rendezvous camj* "itii C, but was mustered into service a.s a 
member of E. 

Historical Memoranda. 



Enlistments in the company dated from July 12, 1862, to 
April 11, 1864. One hundred and four names appear on the 
company roll. All members who enlisted on or before July 23, 
1862, were sworn in, the first time, by John Newlin, J. P., in 
West's pasture, village of Georgetown, Vermillion County, 111. 
On the same day, July 23d, Patterson McNutt, Mark D. Hawes, 
and Richard N. Davies, were elected captain, first and second 
lieutenants respectively. 

July 24th, company transported in wagons from Georgetown 
to the " Y,'' a point on the T. W. & W. R. R., near the site of 
Tilton. Taking the cars at the "Y," company reached Camp 
Butler early next morning. 

By August 1st company organization was completed, by ap- 
pointment of the following named as sergeants: Tilmon D. 
Kyger, first sergeant ; Wm. R. Lawrence, second sergeftnt; David 
A. Smith, third sergeant; Wm. H. Newlin, fourth sergeant; 
Robert B. Drake, fifth sergeant; and by the following named as 
corporals, in their order: David McDonald, John W. Smith, 
Carey A. Savage, Wm. M. Sheets, Samuel W. Sigler, Wm. O. 
Underwood, John V. Don Carlos, William Henderson. Pleas- 
ant B. Hufiinan, fifer; William B. Cowan, drummer; and 
Amacy M. Hasty, teamster. 

Time, at Camp Butler, was spent in drilling, guarding prison- 
ers, and other duty. Some pay and an installment of bounty 
was received by each member of the company. Twenty-five 

dollars bounty was paid by Vermillion County to each married 



man and ten dollars to each unmarried man. To hasten the 
muster in of regiment, Company C loaned to Company E — 
also enlisted in Vermillion County — fourteen men, all but three 
of whom were re-transferred to C. Regiment was mustered into 
United States service August 21, 1862. 

August 24th, left camp Butler, going by rail via Danville, 111., 
Lafayette Junction, Indianapolis, and Seymour, Ind., to Louis- 
ville, Ky. Went into quarters at Camp Jaquess — named for our 
colonel — south-west of the city. At this camp some guard duty 
was done, without arms, other than clubs and revolvers; all the 
clubs and nearly all the revolvers being soon discarded. 

About August 30th regiment was supplied with muskets — 
Austrian or Belgium pattern — and ammunition for same. Mus- 
kets were of the kicking kind. From July 24th company had 
been in receipt of government rations, and was becoming inured 
to service in this respect. 

September Ist or 2d moved to Camp Yates, three or four 
miles south-east of the city. Other regiments were at this 
camp, and a Division was formed, the Seventy-third and One 
Hundreth Illinois, and Seventy-ninth and Eigthy-eighth Indi- 
ana Regiments making one brigade, commanded by Colonel 
Eirk. Lieutenant Hawes and Sergeant Lawrence were detailed 
for duty at Kirk's head-quarters, and a very Ivdriaoua mistake 
was made, in supposing there were two vacancies created. Ac- 
cordingly there was an advance along the line; Davies being 
promoted first lieutenant, as was thought ; Orderly Kyger to 
second lieutenant ; D. A. Smith to orderly, and Corporal John 
W. Smith to second sergeant, the latter being promoted over the 
writer. The joke fell heaviest on Kyger, as he incurred the ex- 
pense of the purchase of sword, belt and straps. J. W. Smith 
riesumed his place as corporal, much to the gratification of the 
writer, who did not like the idea of being *' jumped." 

Before the middle of September an inspection was ordered, 
requiring the command to march to Louisville, taking all lug- 
gage, accompanied also by wagon-train. The number and 
variety of articles thrown out of knapsacks and train was amaz- 
ing to the old soldiers. This inspection was for the purpose of 
reducing luggage and baggage to articles of necessity. Directly 


after this the defeat of Union forces at Bichmond^ Ky., occurred. 
A rapid advance of a day's march was made by the command to 
assist in covering the retreat of those forces. Following this de- 
feat came the invasion by Kirby Smith's Confederate forces, 
menacing Cincinnati and Covington. To meet this emergency 
the command was ordered at once to the latter place, going via 
Jeffersonville and Seymour, Ind., and Cincinnati, Ohio. The 
inarching of the Seventy-third in the streets of Cincinnati ex- 
cited comment, and inquiry was made if it was an old regiment. 
There was a fine engraving produced about this time repre- 
senting the regiment, marching in column, on to the pontoon 

Fears of invasion subsiding, the command was ordered back 
to Louisville, returning via Indianapolis. Buell's army having 
reached Louisville, a general reorganization of all forces— old 
and new — took place. The Forty-fourth and Seventy-third Illi- 
nois, and Second and Fifteenth Missouri Begiments formed the 
Thirty-fifth Brigade, Eleventh Division of reorganized army. 

Bragg's army, which had followed Buell's into Kentucky, 
vfB8 gathering much strength and material in its march in the 
interior, and on October 1st the Union army was put in motion 
and started in pursuit. A dozen or more members of the com- 
pany were left sick at Louisville. Army caught up with the 
enemy October 8th. Begiment was placed in and withdrawn 
from an exposed position, just in the "nick of time," a position 
within easy range of Confederate battery. Being withdrawn, as 
above, and resuming position in main line, regiment was actively 
engaged in battle of Perryville, nearly two hours, the casualties 
to Company C being as follows : 

Josiah Cooper, wounded, Died Oct 31, 1862. 

Samuel Been, wounded, 

David W. Doop, wounded, Discharged Feb. 9, 1863. 

John S. Long, wounded, . Discharged Jan. 13, 1863, died. 

Francis M. Stevens, wounded, .... Discharged Dec. 5, 1862. 

Ziinri Thornton, wounded, Died Oct. 30, 1862. 

James E. Moore, wounded, Discharged March 17, 1863, lost foot 

John Mnrdock, Co. E, wounded, . . . Died, Oct. 9, 1862. 

The last named enlisted in C, but had been one of the four- 
teen men " loaned,'' as before mentioned. Several members of 


Company C, who had been left at Louisville^ came up Oct. 9th 
and 10th. 

Followed to Crab Orchard, marching from there, via Dan- 
ville, Lebanon, Bowling Green, and Mitchellsville, to Nashville, 
Tenn. At Bowling Green, Bosecrans relieved Buell. Arrived 
at Nashville Nov. 7, 1862, encamping first at Edgefield, then 
at Mill Creek. Nov. 20, 1862, Second Lieutenant Bichard N. 
DaVies, resigned. Nov. 28th, First Lieutenant Mark D. Hawes 
resigned. These resignations, the losses resulting from the action^ 
at Perry ville, the loss by death of the following named members : 
Samuel W, Blackburn, John C. Sheets, Thomas Millholland, Israel 
H. Morgan, John and Alex. Gerrard, and William Henderson ; 
and the following named discharged for disability: Thos. T. 
Ashmore, John Trimble, and Wm. O. Underwood, discharged, 
Oct. 9, 1862, made a total loss to company by Jan. 1, 1863, of 
eighteen men. Three of these, viz: David W. Doop, John S. 
Long, and James £. Moore, were discharged aft^r Jan. Ist, on 
Feb. 9th, Jan. 13th, and March 17th, 1863, respectively. Nov. 
25, 1862, Kyger was mastered in as first lieutenant, and Dec. 
6, 1862, Lawrence was mustered in as second lieutenant. 

Dec. 26, 1862, started on movement to Stone Biver. Begi- 
ment not engaged until Dec. 31st, was then engaged fully one- 
third, and under fire two-thirds of the day. Seventy-third was 
in Second Brigade, of Sheridan's (Third) Division, Twentieth 
A. C, and associated with the same regiments as before. The 
change in number of Brigade and Division occurred when Bose- 
crans assumed command. At Stone Biver Company C suflFered 
casualties as follows : John Dye and James Yoho, killed ; John 
J. Halsted, wounded, discharged Feb. 23, 1863 ; three or four 
others very slightly wounded, and Lieutenant Lawrence and 
Daniel Suycott, captured. Lawrence and Suycott were ex- 
changed in the following Spring, returning to the Company in 
May. About Jan. 7, 1863, a detail from company. Lieutenant 
Kyger in charge, sought the bodies of Dye and Yoho and buried 
them. The writer saw both these men expire; they were near 
together, and died at about the same time.* 

* Note. — ^The latter part of January, or early in February, the company, 
in pursuance of general orders from Bosecrans, chose a man whose name 


Were in two different camps at. Murfreesboro, first Bradley, 
then Shafer — named for our brigade commander killed at Stone 
Kivei. From Jan. 1st to June 30th, 1863, inclusive, the com- 

should be inscribed on a ** roll of honor." Through some unaccountable 
circumstance, or accident, or perhaps through compromise, the choice fell 
on the writer hereof. Though conscious of having tried to do my dut)^ at 
Stone River, I knew this honor was undeserved ; that there were otliers 
more entitled to it As the honor was bestowed by comrades who had 
passed with me through the smoke and fire of that eventful day I will 
cherish it to my dying hour as a precious legacy, one that I would proudly 
transmit to my children if possible. Having mentioned the foregoing, I 
must not fail to record another scrap of history equally importaut in its out- 
come, as placing me under a weight of obligation to the company. 

Some time in May, 1863, I was on picket duty as sergeant at outpost, 
from which guards were sent out every two hours to relieve those on' the 
line. Guards at this outpost were expected to, and usually did, turn out 
and present arms to the officer of the day, or other officer, when he came 
around. On this particular day a cold, drizzling rain was falling, and the 
officer wore a gum coat, concealing insignia of office, or special duty. Four 
of the boys were pitching quoits (horse-shoes), as a means of diversion, 
when the officer on horseback was observed in the distance through 
woods. The quoit pitching ceased, and the boys made ready to " take 
arms " and '' fall in." But the horseman either did not see, or pretended 
that he did not see the outpost, until he got well past a point in our front, 
then quickly turning, dashed upon us. As I was satisfied the officer was 
pla3dng a ''smart Aleck" game, I had said to the boys, "never mind; pay 
no attention to him," and only two or three turned out Arriving at the 
outpost, reining his steed, and bowing up his neck with a self-satisfied air, 
as though he thought himself ''autocrat of all the Russias,*' officer de- 
manded, " Where's the corporal or sergeant in charge?" I responded " Here." 
Officer inquired my name, rank, and regiment Noting the information I 
gave him, officer rode away, without giving his name, or business, as re- 
quested. The latter I learned next day on returning to camp. An order 
from Sheridan had been received by the company commander to " reduce 
Sergeant Wm. H. Newlin to the ranks ; fill vacancy, etc." An investigation 
was had ; those who had been on duty with me the past twenty-iour hours 
and myself, were summoned, and ajl the facts were stated. The general's 
order was complied with— that had to be done — and an election was ordered 
to be held at nine o'clock next morning, to fill vacancy thus created. The 
hour for election arrived, and as there was no candidate against me I re- 
ceived a unanimous vote, and was elected — not appointed — to " fill vacancy." 
Division head-quarters was notified, "Order complied with; Wm. H. New- 
lin reduced, and vacancy filled." And that was the end of it, except that 
Lieutenant Kyger cautioned all the boys not to say any thing about the 
matter in writing home, adding, " What if news of that should get back to 
Georgetown ?" But I did n't care where the news went to, whether to 
Georgetown or Damascus, so all the facts were given. 


pany lost members as follows^ in addition to the tliree already 

noted^ viz: 

John W. Smith, Discharged, Jun. 3, 1863, disability. 

Carey A. Savage, Discharged, Feb. 6, 1863, disability. 

John V. Don Carlos, .... Discharged, May 10, 1863, disability. 

Enoch Braselton, Discharged, March 12, 1863, disability. 

William Cook, Discharged, Jan. 28, 1863, disability. 

Robert W. Cowan, Discharged, Feb. 9, 1863, disability. 

Lawrence Dye, Discharged, Jan. 28, 1863, disability. 

£enj. F. Edmonds, .... Discharged, Feb. 10, 1863, disability. 

Wright Madden, Transferred to gun-boat service, April 16, 1863. 

Jacob Martin, Died at Murfreesboro, Feb. 21, 1863. 

William McEntyre, .... Died at Nashville, Jan. 15, 1863. 
Thomas Elwood Madden, . Discharged, Feb. 20, 1863, disability. 
Joshua T. Nicholson, .... Died at Nashville, Jan. 18, 1863. 
Christopher C. Shires, . . . Discharged, May 28, 1863, disability. 
John M. Thompson, .... Discharged, Feb. 20, 1863, disability. 
James F. Williams, .... Discharged, March 26, 1863, disability. 

George Miley, Died at Nashville, Feb. 3, 1863. 

Robert B. Drake, . ^ . . . . Discharged, June 30, 1863, disability. 

In all, twenty-one men, making a total loss to July 1, 1863, 
of thirty-nine men. 

Started June 23, 1863, on Chattanooga campaign. First in- 
jury to member of Company was the wounding of Alex. C. 
Nicholson, at Fairfield. 

Followed on, passing Manchester and Estill Springs, wading 
Elk River, and passing through Winchester to Cowan's Station. 
Halted at latter place, July 3, 1863, hearing next day the news 
of Gettysburg and Vicksburg. 

A few days later passed through Cumberland Tunnel, and 
on to Stevenson, Alabama. At Stevenson there was a delay 
until Sept. 2d, when the command pushed on to the Tennessee 
River, at Bridgeport, crossing on the 3d, and going over Sand 
Mountain, and on down to Alpine, Georgia. When company left 
Stevenson I remained, with others, in consequence of chills, 
having had medicine prescribed for breaking same about 
August 30th. 

Captain Patterson McNutt resigned July 29, 1863, and First 
Lieutenant Tilmon D. Kyger was mustered in as captain of 
company, Sept. 4th, following.* 

^^— ^^-^"^ ■■111 — I. ■ M ■■ ■ M I ■ 

*NoTE. — On morning, Sept. 3d, we followed company to Bridgeport, 
arriving just as command was starting to cross the river. Being w^ried by 


The movement to Alpine^ by Thomas' and McCook's corps, 
having forced Bragg out of Chattanooga, next came the hard 
marching necessary to concentrate the Union forces, before the 
reinforced enemy should turn and crush Crittenden's corps. 

the tramp, James T. Maudlin, Hendei-son Goodwin, William Martin, and 
myself were again left in temporary hospital. Next morning, feeling much 
refreshed, concluded to apply for passes to go on to company. We were 
disappointed, myself in particular, as that date, Sept. 4, 1S63, marked the 
end of my twenty-first year. About noon, a long wagon train began cross- 
ing the river, and while at dinner we conceived the idea of getting across, 
under the guise of train guards. So, striking the train at a little distance 
from the river, we distributed ourselves at intervals, among the wagons, 
loading our luggage, except gun and bayonet. The scheme worked ; and on 
getting across, we repossessed ourselves of our luggage, and passed ahead 
of the train. We diligently pressed forward until sunset. We then located 
a camp, got roasting-ears from a field to our right, an iron pot, and water 
at a house to our left, and in due time feasted, chatted, and retired for the 
night, not knowing how near we might be to enemies, or how far from 
friends. After midnight a terrible racket, to our front, awakened and 
frightened us. Imagining the commotion was produced by a dash of the 
enemy's cavalry, we arose in great haste, scattere*d our fire, gathered bur 
traps, and hied us away to the brush. The disturbance ceased, our excite- 
ment subsided, and we resumed our former position. After breakfast next 
morning we started, and on going one-fourth of a mile we came to a lot, of 
say three acres, in which were a dozen or more horses, colts, and cows. 
Up to nearly noon at least, we attributed the racket to the stock. Keeping 
steadily on, and not meeting or overtaking any troops or trains, and the 
road showing less indications of any having passed, we began to feel lone- 
some. Just before noon, after passing a house on our left, we stopped, 
and sent one of our squad back to inquire if any troops had passed that 
morning. Comrade soon returned with information that a small body of 
cavalry had passed, going south, about two hours before. Signs in the road, 
and on either side, seemed to confirm the report, but as our scout had 
failed to ascertain the character of the cavalry, he was sent for further 
information. In answer to question as to whose, or what cavalry had 
passed, our man was told it was " we *rn." Further inquiry established a 
probability that it was a detachment of Roddy's Confederate cavalry. For 
certain reasons we did not go back past the house, but kept straight 
ahead, as though it was our business to overtake that detachment. Fifteen 
minutes later we were following a road in an easterly direction. Going at 
a ''quick" gait, and being about to pass a bunch of pigs, averaging about 
sixty pounds weight, we concluded we would n't pass all of them. It was 
very quickly done, as we dare not fire a gun, or allow a pig to squeal much. 
The choice parts of the pig were appropriated to our own special purposes. 
After dinner we pursued our way, and soon discovered intersecting roads, 
and evidences of the passage of troops and trains. Later our suspense was 
ended, and before dark, of Sept. 6th, we had reached the company. 


Arrived in vicinity of Chickamauga battlefield, late September 
18th. Got nearer next day; was under fire^ but not engaged. 

Saturday nighty September lOth^ company furnished a cor- 
poral; R. J. Hasty^ and two or three guards for duty at Sheri- 
dan's head-quarters. McCook, Crittenden, and other generals, 
were at head-quarters in course of the night. Sheridan was 
restless and dissatisfied^ and altogether indications^ as interpreted 
by our corporal and guards, were unfavorable as to our pros- 
pects for to-morrow. Bradley's brigade (Sheridan's third), had 
been very roughly used in the afternoon, and his first and 
second brigades would probably " catch it " to-morrow. We were 
in the second (Laibold's brigade.) The night was dark, the 
weather was cool, and fire was forbidden. Our position was in 
heavy woods; the noise and racket in our front, whether made 
by the enemy or by our own troops, sounded and resounded 
terribly ominous in'our ears. Daybreak came, and with it orders 
to move ; we were out of rations, or nearly so, and not allowed 
time to draw a supply. Lytic persisted in drawing rations for 
his (the first) brigade, notwithstanding orders to move immedi- 
ately. Moved two miles or more to the left ; took position, and 
awaited further orders. 

Before .noon orders came, and we "went in.'' Of this mem- 
orable battle history tells; it has been "fought over," and 
"wrote up," many times. As within an hour from "going in," 
we had, with others, surrendered, and passed to the rear of five 
lines, two ranks each, of Confederate troops, we will not attempt 
a description of the small part of the battle we witnessed. For 
the first time we viewed the situation amid and to rear of the 
enemy. Doubt and uncertainty seemed to have place among 
the Confederates, although they were advancing. Officers were 
busy gathering up stragglers and hurrying them forward. Too 
many wanted to guard prisoners. Swords were drawn, and 
wildly flourished, and much ado made, probably because of the 
presence of so many " Yankees." Eope lines and traces, and 
other rope rigging to artillery, and sorghum stalks, sticking in 
haversacks of Bragg's men, attracted our attention. We saw 
Gen. Longstreet with an immense escort following him. We 
saw Gen*. Hood lying under the fly of a tent, wounded; later he 


had his leg taken off. After one oMock enemy's right fell 
back^ aiid our left advanced. We saw several solid shot, skip- 
ping over the ground, which had been sent by Crittenden's bat- 
teries. We had many companions in our new and strange ex- 
perience, and formed many new acquaintances, most of them of 
short duration. Some fourteen hundred of Gen. Sheridan's di- 
vision, and many from other commands, had been collected in 
one place. Hesser and North, of Company A, and Brown and 
myself, of Company C, were one little squad of the Seventy-third 
that did not scatter much. We encountered no other members 
of our regiment until reaching Richmond. 

Up to this point we have given facts, in the history of the 
company, of which we had personal knowledge. What few in- 
cidents or accidents in its history, from Chickamauga up to 
opening of Atlanta campaign here given are vouched for, my 
information touching the same being derived from reliable 
sources. The losses sustained by company in battle of Chicka- 
mauga were as follows: David A. Smith, Enoch Smith, and 
Artemas Terrell, killed; Wm. R. Lawrence, John R. Burk, 
Henderson Goodwin, Nathaniel Henderson, Henry C. Hender- 
son, Austin Henderson, Jehu Lewis (color bearer), and John 
Bostwick (discharged May 27, 1864), wounded; and all the 
following named were captured, viz: Enoch P. Brown, Wm. 
H. Newlin, John R. Burk, Wm. F. Ellis, Austin Henderson, 
and John Thornton. Of those that were captured, Burk and 
Lewis were soon exchanged, being seriously wounded; Burk, 
however, went to Richmond; losing an arm, he was dis- 
charged June 9, 1864. Lewis was exchanged on battlefield. 
Austin Henderson was exchanged late in 1864. John Thorn- 
ton, Enoch P. Brown, and William F. Ellis, died in Anderson- 
ville prison, in order named: September 16th, 20th, and 23d, 
1864, respectively. Number of Brown's grave, 9,350 ; Ellis', 
9,703. Number of Thornton's grave not given. Wm. H. New- 
lin was never either paroled or exchanged. Nearly every mem- 
ber of company was struck by balls, or fragments of shell, or 
trees, in some part of the body, accoutrements, or clothing. At 
nightfall only three of the company were present at call of the 
captain. During the night a dozen or more others rallied upon 


this feeble remnant. Chickamaiiga was a dreadful strain upon 
the strength and powers of endurance of the soldier^ and Sep- 
tember 20, 1863, is, and will ever be, a memorable day in our 
country's history. By September 22d, some twenty or more of 
the company had reached Chattanooga, and were beginning to 
assume at least a defensive attitude. Early in September 
commissions for Lawrence and Smith, as first and second 
lieutenants, respectively, were sent for, but neither were ever 
mustered in on them; Lawrence resigning, November 24, 1863, 
as second lieutenant, and Smith having met his fate as already 

Following Chickamauga came the siege of Chattanooga, and 
with it very scant supplies, and hard picket and forage duty. 
The "cracker line*' being often disturbed, and foraging not 
yielding, or " panning out " very heavily, the supply of rations, 
provender, for man and beast, was far short of ordinary 
demands. November 25th the battle of Missionary Ridge oc- 
curred, in which Company C fortunately suffered very few casu- 
alties, the most serious one being the wounding of Stephen New- 
lin. After Missionary Ridge company and command went to 
the relief of Burnside at Knoxville. On this winter campaign 
much hard marching and great fatigue were endured. Some 
one or two, or more, of the company, not starting with the com- 
mand, followed up later with squads and detachments. In one 
or more instances the enemy's cavalry attempted to " gobble 
up'' these squads. During its stay in East Tennessee, regiment 
encamped for a time at Haworth's Mill, near New Market, and 
also at Lenoir's Station. From latter place, it is said, some 
members of company made frequent visits in the country east 
of river, and it is further alleged, one or more of them got 
married. Dandridge, I believe, was the farthest point eastward 
to which command penetrated in the Knoxville campaign. Capt. 
Kyger was very sick at Knoxville, in course of vrinter, and on 
recovering sufficiently was granted leave of absence. 

Winter breaking, and time for opening of the Atlanta cam- 
paign approaching, the regiment returned to vicinity of Chatta- 
nooga, encamping at Cleveland, at which point we rejoined it, 
on our return from prison. April 11, 1864, Wm. R. Cook was 


mustered in^ as a recruit to company^ being last name entered 
on company roll.* 

• From June 30, 1863, to July 1, 1864, the total loss to com- 
pany, from all causes, was fourteen men, including Amos Bogue. 
Transferred to Invalid corps, August 1, 1863; Clark B. Brant, 

* Note. — Soon after capture were placed under a strong guard, our part- 
ners, being Brown, Hesser, and North. Jos. C. Squires, an attachee, before 
capture, of Gen. Rosecrans' staflF, " stood in " with us a day or so, until 
catching sight of Col. Von Strader. We dropped our extra ammunition in 
Chickamauga Creek. Passed Ringgold, Sunday evening, about eight o'clock. 
Four miles farther on, halted until morning. Arrived at Tunnell Hill about 
noon, September 21st. A morsel of bacon issued to each man, a piece four 
inches long, could have been drawn through a half-inch augur hole, with- 
out squeezing out much grease. Boarded railroad train about three o'clock, 
P. M., and started on tour of Confederacy. Rode on top of car part of time ; 
came near rolling off. Reached Atlanta night of September 22d. Put up 
at Barracks. Next day were marched past a clerk at a table ; gave clerk our 
name, company and regiment. Drew rations, September 24th. Started 
early ; arrived at Augusta before night Bought a huge watermelon ; all we 
could do to carry it ; cost fifty cents. Were guarded closely in court-house 
enclosure. Got away with melon by calling neighbors. September 25th, 
took an early train for Columbia. Cars crowded as usual; excitement sub- 
siding; novelty of trip wearing off. Reached Columbia morning of 26th. 
Were delayed three hours. Finally got started northward, the direction we 
wanted to go, if we did n't stop too soon. Rode all day up to three o'clock. 
Stopped at a little station near line between the Carolinas. Lots of sweet 
potatoes on the platform ; we let them alone. Many people were there, 
mostly women, young and old. An old lady delivered an off-hand address, 
giving advice . to the " Yankees." She wanted to know why we " could n't 
let the South alone. We're not meddlin' with your affairs. You all go 
back North and stay on your farms, and in your factories, and work-shops. 
Yes, go back to your homes and make shoes for us." Reached Charlotte 
late in the day. A few of the boys got away, and trouble and delay were 
occasioned in getting them to train again. Next day, Sunday, September 
27th, arrived at Raleigh. Were viewed by many people, mostly colored, 
while waiting. Got under way again, traveled all night, arriving at Weldon 
next day. Dismounted from cars; were guarded near railroad; drew 
rations. Invested one dollar and a half in extras. Boarded train early on 
September 29th, and dismounted no more until arriving at Richmond. Put 
up at Libby about eleven o'clock the night of 29th. Paid Dick Turner 
twelve dollars next day under protest. He said he would pay it back when 
we were paroled or exchanged. Was never paroled or exchanged, so the 
twelve dollars ain't due yet. Went to the Rosser (tobacco) house late on 
the 30th. We were guided around to it. Stayed one night with Rosser, 
then went to Smith and Pemberton houses, October 1st. On the way fell 
in with Ellis and Thornton, of Company C. Stationary for quite a while; 
had a diversity of pastime, read Testament, played checkers, fought vermin^ 


discharged November 12, 1863; Merida Thornton and Aaron 
Willison, transferred to Invalid corps, January 15th and Febru- 
ary 1, 1864; James T. Slaughter, transferred to V. R. C, 
May 1, 1864; Charles W. Cook, permanently detached as black- 
smith to Bat. G., First Mo. Art., August 26, 1863 ; and James 

but never carried any rations over from one day to next. Kilpatrick — 
Jesse D., not James, as we have it on page 10 — ^joined our Seventy-third 
delegation ; his credentials were from Company B. Got our share of the 
sugar. Stopped one night at Scott House ; next day, November 14th, took 
train for Danville, Va., arriving November 15th. Our delegation generally 
agreed, worked and voted as a unit on all questions. Consisting of seven 
members, we settled things among ourselves in committee, before going to 
the full house. Attention was occupied a few days considering a plan for a 
general break ; plan never fully matured, i. e. in the full house ; killed in 
committee, no doubt. December 15th we seceded, withdrew from prison 
No. 2, on account of small-pox, and went to hospital. In time recovered, 
and was variously employed up to February 19, 1864. Formed new 
acquaintances ; organized a new alliance ; seceded again, the night of date 
last mentioned. 

In issue of National Tribune of November 16, 1882, my comrade L. B, 
Smith, criticises my narrative, in a manner complimentary to it, however. 
He says, ''Many important points are left out; all he has written is true, 
and much more." Have supplied one of those "important points" on page 
4, the very important one to comrade Smith. I refer to his rescue, by Suther- 
land, from drowning in Craig's Creek. Another interesting, if not " im- 
portant point," left out, is that which includes the proposal, from a mulatto 
girl of some fifteen Summers, that we should leave Smith with herself and 
parents as a " hostage," security that we, after getting through, would send 
a squad of cavalry after the whole family. Other interesting points were 
some of our discussions as to feasibility of things proposed, such as the 
taking of the horses, the third night out ; which road to take — ^this, that, or 
the other ; and the project of unearthing money said to be hid in a certain 
portion of a river bank. Another important and interesting point in Mr. 
Smith's life did not come within the compass of my narrative, viz.: his 
standing guard for a few minutes over Mr. Jefferson Davis, immediately 
after, or within a day or two of his capture. Mr. Smith became twenty-one 
years old in February, 1864, while on our trip. The cut — upper left 
comer — represents Smith as he appeared at about the age of thirty years. 
Another interesting point was the management, making a friend, by 
Sutherland, of Huffman's dog. So skillfully did Sutherland get on the " good 
side " of the dog that he never barked once, or gave his owner the slightest 
intimation or warning of our approach. Comrade Sutherland, I believe, was 
connected, in or about, the despatching of Maj. Ross' dog in Richmond. Mr. 
Sutherland is, and has always been a farmer ; is now fifty years old ; cut — 
lower right comer — represents him as he appeared probably ten years ago. 
Other interesting points left out are those in the experience of comrade 
Tripp, after his separation from our party, March 4, 1864. Did not know 


W. Trimble, transferred to V. R. C, April 10, 1864, the other 
seven already noted ; making a total loss to date of fifly-three 

Moved from Cleveland, May 3, 1864, with command, first 
brigade, second division, fourth army corps. Under fire first 
time, on Atlanta campaign, in the vicinity of Catoosa Springs, 
May 5. At Rocky Faced Ridge, May 9th, was again under 
fire, but not engaged. Sharpshooters from the regiment did 
good work here; Company C being represented by John P. 

until November, f881, that Tripp had survived these experiences. Visiting 
him last November I learned the particulars of his singular and somewhat 
protracted wanderings after we left him. Want of space forbids any thing 
like a record of them here. His loneliness, immediately following his mis< 
fortune in being left, must have been oppressive ; hungry and foodless, the 
shades of nig^t closing around him amid those rugged mountains, his feel- 
ings can scarcely be imagined. With reluctance and fear he called, hoping 
his recent companions, or some belated pursuer, might hear him ; but there 
was no answering voice, nothing but distressing silence, and his disappoint- 
ment was very great Mr. Tripp is now fifty-seven years old ; cut — lower 
left corner — shows him as he appeared for some months after his discharge 
in December, 1864. Wood and Taylor are accounted for on page 4. In 
Wood's case the information is direct and official ; he was about twenty- 
six years old at time of his death. In Taylor's case the information is in- 
direct and circumstantial, but his fate is probably correctly indicated on 
page 4. He was about twenty-seven years old at time we left him. 

The engravings herewith, " The Ferry Scene," and " Left Alone," are 
reasonably accurate and true to the reality. "Out of the Woods" is in- 
tended to represent the general idea of escape, our troubles behind, our per- 
severing, unremitting efforts ended, and our safety assured, lliough as 
uniting, bringing together, two or three separate scenes, " Out of the Woods" 
is also a faithful picture. Conceding that Taylor's fate, as the principal 
figure in " Left Alone," was that, which all the information suggests, inde- 
scribably sad, and gloomy must have been his last hour. Nothing of hope 
or comfort in his anticipations of the future, his busy thoughts must have 
drifted away from his surroundings and recent events, and sped across the 
sea, and dwelt upon his father and mother there, who were ignorant of his 
&ite. This brings us to the events mentioned on page 109. At Greorgetown, 
while on furlough, we met Capt. Kyger and P. B. Huffman, of Company C. 
Furlough soon run out. The rocks and hills about Georgetown seemed 
very small. Separated from home and friends once more, and started in 
company with Huffman for the front This was in the latter part of April. 
Encountered my escaping comrade Sutherland in Indianapolis, and accom- 
panied him the greater part of the way to Chattanooga. Arrived in camp 
at Cleveland, May 2, 1864, just at sunset Had to talk nearly all night, and 
then get up next morning and start on the Atlanta campaign. 


Jones^ Alex. C. NicholsoD, and James T. Maudlin. Was en- 
gaged at Resaca^ May 14th. Wm. D. Bales struck by piece of 
shell. Was engaged at Adairsville, May 17th. Up to, and in- 
cluding Adairsville^ Company C was in my charge, there being 
po commissioned officer present. On this date Capt. Kyger 
arrived at the front and took command of company. At Kings- 
ton there was a delay of three or four days. Pursuant to orders, 
all vacancies in line, and non-commissioned officers were filled, 
or selections made with that object in view. May 22d, Com- 
pany C attended to this duty. The company was entitled to a 
lieutenant, and an election was held. Candidates were voted 
for, for orderly sergeant, with the understanding that the suc- 
cessful candidate should be commissioned first lieutenant. Elec- 
tion resulted in my favor by a small majority — four votes, I be- 
lieve — which, considering all the circumstances, my long ab- 
sence, and the fact that my competitor had been present all the 
time, was a No. 1 soldier, none better, I regarded as extremely 
flattering, and was therefore very thankful for the advancement. 
My commission was sent for; it bears date June 9, 1864. 
The list of non-commissioned officers being filled, stood as 
follows : 

Wm. M. Sheets, orderly sergeant Austin Hendekson, third corporal. 

James T. Maudlin, second sergeant Samuel Hewitt, fourth corporal. 

Jehu Lewis, third sergeant Alpbed E. Lewis, fifth corporal. 

Robert J. Hasty, fourth sergeant George W. Martin, sixth corporal. 

Alex. C. Nicholson, fifth sergeant. Stephen Newlin, seventh corporal. 

Wesley Bishop, first corporal. Geo. Hollingsworth, eighth corporal. 
Jonathan Ellis, second corporal. 

It was at this time and place that A. E. Lewis notified Ellis 
of his appointment as corporal ; adding, '^ and your commission 
has gone on to Washington for approval.^^ All of the above 
were mustered out June 12, 1865. The-list does not contain one 
of the original sergeants or corporals ; except that Orderly Sheets 
was one of the first corporals. 

Recommenced active operations about May 25th. June 18th 
John Braselton was wounded. By June 25th the actions at 
Pine and Lost Mountains, Dallas, New Hope Church, and pre- 
liminary battles before Kenesaw Mountain had taken place, 
without inflicting serious damage to company. Capt. Kyger 


was sick^ a week or more, up to and including June 27th, the 
day of the assault on Kenesaw. This assault was the first 
heavy battle occurring after my muster in as lieutenant, and 
owing to the formation of each regiment preparatory to the 
assault, and the absence of my seniors, I was placed in com- 
mand of two companies, C and H, forming the third or middle 
division of regiment. Two lines, of two ranks each, were in 
front of, and two lines, of two ranks each, were in rear of com- 
. panics C and H. Owing to nature of ground these companies 
came off well, suffered less than any of the others. From point 
of starting in, the ground sloped considerably to line immedi- 
ately without, or in front of the very elaborate, systematic ob- 
structions in front of enemy's works, and from this same line 
the ground covered by these obstructions was gradually ascend- 
ing to line of fortifications. Pending the heaviest fire of enemy, 
companies C and H were on the lowest ground, all the other 
companies, whether in front or rear, being on higher ground, so 
that fire of enemy was comparatively harmless to C and H, 
there being only four or five slight wounds received in the two 
companies, and these inflicted while getting back to position 
from which they started. Of the regiment, three were killed, 
and some twelve or fifteen wounded. There were several cases 
of overheating, the weather being extremely hot, and the assault, 
from some cause, not being made as early as intended. The 
casualties to regiment, seeming so few, in an assault of such 
magnitude, it is proper to state that number of men in regiment 
that day, present for duty, did not exceed three hundred. 
In our front, too, were very heavy earth-works, feebly manned ; 
but for the arrival of reinforcements we could have effected, at 
least, a temporary breach in the enemy's line. 

Early July 3d it was found that the enemy had fallen back. 
Followed up immediately; regiment lost one man, killed, July 
4th. There was a delay of a week at the Chattahoochie River. 
Command took position, near river, above Vining's Station. 
July 9th division marched to Boswell ; destroyed some mills or 
factories, and crossed and recrossed the Chattahoochie while 
gone, returning on the 12th. Writer was not with company on 
Boswell trip; but owing to depletion of strength was favored; 


lefl behind in charge of regimental camp^ and those who had 
been excused from duty. July ISth, crossed Chattahoochie 
River on pontoon bridge. While crossing, writer was taken 
sicky and was obliged to drop behind soon afler getting across 
the river. In attempting to reach the upland and overtake 
company, was prostrated, the result of over-heating or partial 
sun-stroke, and have no recollection whatever of events occur- 
ring after the crossing of the Chattahoochie, up to the crossing 
of Nance's Creek, July 18. There had, however, been a delay 
at Buck's Head, and also a general inspection. Late on the 
19th there were two or three severe skirmishes along the line 
of Peach Tree Creek, one of which approached the dignity of a 
battle, and several prisoners, including a general officer, were 
captured by our forces. Crossed Peach Tree Creek at ten o'clock, 
P. M., of the 19th. 

About noon, on the 20th, brigade was assigned position in 
line, and hastily built slight breast-works of logs, limbs, and 
rails. This done, was ordered to make reconnoisance to front. 
In execution of this order, the enemy was found in force, and 
we came back at a double-quick, to find our temporary works 
occupied by other troops. Took another position, further to 
right, the Seventy-third holding the extreme right of fourth 
corps. There was a gap of two hundred yards or more, be- 
tween right of fourth and left of twentieth corps; so the right 
of Seventy-third was retired, swung back a little in order to 
cover this gap. The battle immediately opened, giving no time 
for construction of works, however slight, and continued about 
an hour, with two casualties to Company C — William Martin 
and the writer, wounded. Sampson McCool, of Company E, 
was also wounded. Sampson and William McCool, and John 
Murdock, the latter killed at Perryville, being the three loaned 
by Company C to Company E, that were never retransferred to 
C. Of regiment, one man was killed, and several others 
wounded. My wound, being slight, healed entirely by August 
1st, but I was detained at division field hospital until August 
16th, on account of general physical debility, resulting from the 
sunstroke of 13th. Command was not in the battles of July 
22d and 28th, so my hospital and prison experience, covering in 


all eight months, deprived me of participation in only one bat- 
tle — Missionary Ridge — and one campaign — the East Ten- 
nessee — in which the company engaged. 

The latter part of August, started on the flanking movement 
to Jonesboro and Lovejoy station, September 1st, engaged in 
tearing up railroad, burning the ties, and twisting the heated 
rails around trees. Arrived at Jonesboro too late to accomplish 
more than the capture of a hospital and a few hundred prison- 
ers, as the battle there was closing. Night of September Ist, 
Company C stood picket out north-east of Jonesboro, and to- 
ward morning the rumble of Hood's artillery and trains could 
be heard, as they were passing hurriedly on a road still further 
eastward, retreating from Atlanta. Later, the explosions at 
Atlanta were distinctly heard. Followed on to Lovejoy's. 
Were under fire, but had no good opportunity of returning it. 
Withdrew from enemy's front at Lovejoy's the night of Sep- 
tember 6th or 6th, returning to Atlanta, arriving on the 8th. 
Went into quarters with some expectation of remaining inactive 
for a longer time than we did. Writer, however, saw the ex- 
terior of the barracks, the interior of which he had seen, as a 
prisoner, just a year before. 

About September 26th to 28th, were ordered to Chattanooga, 
going by railway; and from thence marched down into Alpine 
valley again, about October 18th, returning the latter part of 
October, via Chickamauga battle-ground, to Chattanooga. On 
this return march from Alpine, quite a number of recruits of 
Fifty-first Illinois fell behind, "straggled," and no wonder, as 
most of them wore overcoats, aud carried knapsacks packed full ; 
one of them carried his bayonet fixed, instead of in scabbard, 
whereupon Corporal Lewis (who had just awakened from a 
short sleep at roadside, where company was resting) cried out, 
"Halt, halt, you Fifty-firster; I want to know where you got 


About November 1, 1864, went by rail to Huntsville, Ala- 
bama, and from there marched to Athens, and from thence, via 
Lynnville and Pulaski, to Columbia, Tenn. Here a part of 
twenty-third corps met, and reinforced the fourth corps. Hood's 

rebel army was becoming very troublesome and apparently im- 



patient for large results, and was pressing ours very closely. 
Considerable skirmishing took place about Columbia, in which 
Company C bore its full share. Under pressure of enemy oiir 
forces crossed Duck River the night of November 28th, the 
Seventy-third standing picket the balance of that night on north 
bank of river. Next morning, the pressure being great, there 
was no time to relieve us, and being already deployed, we fell 
back, first as flankers, then as skirmishers, in the direction of 
Spring Hill, arriving there about four o'clock in afternoon of 
29th. We were to the right, or south-east of Pike and of 
Spring Hill. The part of the Seventy-third in the action at 
Spring Hill was to assist in resisting a cavalry dash by enemy, 
just before sunset. To do this we were only compelled to 
shorten our line a little, and deliver a brisk fire for the space 
of about ten minutes. Heavy fighting was going on near us, in 
which enemy's infantry was engaged, pending which, night fall 
ended the contest, luckily for our forces. There was great con- 
fusion, one result of which was, our being compelled to stand 
picket all night, as on the preceding night. We must have 
been very close indeed to enemy's pickets, though we did 
not see or hear them; but could distinctly see the enemy at a 
little distance around his camp-fires. Our trains were hustling 
the whole night through, and got well on the way before morn- 
ing toward Franklin. 

Daylight of November 30th came, and we were still on the 
picket line. By sunrise we began falling back, deployed as 
skirmishers, and skirmishing began, and was kept up with more 
or less severity to within one mile of Franklin, when our brig- 
ade was relieved. Very soon after skirmishing began in the 
morning we crossed to the left of the road, and when but little 
more than half way to Franklin, Capt. Kyger being sick, was 
unable to remain longer with company, and was taken in 
charge by Surgeon Pond, and we saw him no more until arriv- 
ing at Nashville. Being relieved, as before mentioned, by pass- 
ing within, and to rear, of skirmish line, which had been 
thrown out, the brigade, Opedycke's first brigade, second division, 
fourth army corps, formed and marched in column, with little 
delay; to Franklin, passing on the way a brigade which must 


have been the third brigade of our division, posted some distance 
in front of a temporary line of breastworks, which had been hastily 
built, extending from a point above to another point on the river 
below the town. These works, scarcely a mile in length, semi-cir- 
cular in form, and covering, not only Franklin, but also the bridge 
across the Harpeth, were filled with troops; so our brigade passed 
on to the rear, and took position behind Carter's Hill. This was at 
about 3:30 o'clock, P. M. The men at once set about prepar- 
ing coffee and something to eat, being greatly fatigued from loss 
of sleep, and almost constant duty since evening of 28th, on 
crossing Duck River. All the trains, and the first division of 
the fourth corps, were north of the Harpeth. 

Dinner over once, we should probably have followed and 
taken the advance, having assisted two days in covering the re- 
treat. But no ; not all oi us were permitted to finish dinner 
before Hood had martialed his forces, swept up suddenly, driv- 
ing in the brigade, posted in front, as befi3re stated, in its wake, 
and under cover of same crushing in, making a fearful breach 
in our main line. Heavy firing began, clouds of dust and smoke 
arose, hundreds of rebel troops were thrust into the breach 
which they had made, and beyond; singly, and in squads, small 
sind great, our men began flying from the front, throwing away 
their guns ; pieces of artillery and cassions, with horses attached, 
came thundering down; confusion and consternation indescrib- 
able had been wrought in five minutes or less time. 

The Thirty-sixth, Forty-fourth, and Seventy-third Illinois, 
and Twenty-fourth Wisconsin, and One Hundred and Twenty- 
fifth Ohio, five regiments, composing Opedycke's brigade, were 
instantly on their feet, anticipating orders, seizing their guns, 
which had been stacked on one line, made a simultaneous, irre- 
sistible rush to the front, carrying every thing before them at 
the point of the bayonet, capturing thirteen battle-flags, nearly 
one thousand prisoners, and restoring and strengthening our 
line, so that it was broken no more. Stung to desperation at 
this sudden turning of the scales in this important battle, the in- 
furiated enemy charged, and charged again and again, carry- 
ing his reckless resistance right up to, yes on to, our slight 
works, to the very muzzles of our guns. But we were there to 


stay, at least until getting ready to leave of our own accord; 
but it took trorit, hard work, persistent, unflagging and 
UNFLINCHING WORK, to maintain our position. How it was 
done I can scarcely hope to describe. 

On arriving at the point from whence our forces had been 
driven, there were too many troops to operate to advantage, 
and afford all a semblance of protection. Fortunately, the 
ground, beginning at the works, was gradually declining to the 
rear. Company C, with a few soldiers of other companies, was 
posted between, and to the front of, two pieces of artillery. All 
were either lying on the ground or in a low, stooping posture. 
Immediately at the works was a strong line of men, with barely 
elbow room, who did nothing but fire; in rear of this line were 
two or tbree tiers of men, who were busy loading pieces and 
passing them forward ; to rear of these were still others, who 
were cleaning guns, breaking open boxes of ammunition, and 
distributing cartridges to the loaders; others still further back, 
carried up the boxes of ammunition from a point where left by 
ammunitioH wagons. There was work for all, and all worked. 
There was a full half hour of desperate fighting, perhaps equalled 
at some time and place, but scarcely ever, if ever, surpassed. 
For several fearftil minutes, as a result of combined, sturdy, 
heroic effort on the part of all, from end to end of our line, the 
small arms volleyed; there was no determining of intervals be- 
tween volleys; it was as one. The cannon thundered; the shell 
shrieked; the smoke rolled; the earth trembled; the heroic, 
reckless, desperate, enemy surged, and surged again and again, 
right up to our line, and recoiled as often, recoiling last, before 
the merciless tempest of death. 

Darkness came on, and shrouded the scene ; there was a lull in 
the fight; a great calm after a great storm. Many of our soldiers 
had been slain, but for each one, from three to five of the rebels 
had bitten the dust. Very many on both sides were wounded, the 
few mortally, the many slightly. Did those who had not finished 
dinner, now finish it ? No. Was supper prepared ? No. Was 
there time for coffee? Not much. The foe, threatening and de- 
fiant, was right there, within sixty feet, waiting to pounce upon 
us. Guns were put in order, ammunition in abundance was got 


ready at hand^ and all precautions taken. Nor had we long to 
wait until the first night assault was made; right up to our 
works they charged, coming within space measured by the 
flashes from our rifles. But before our galling fire the enemy 
quailed and fell back. Our fire slackened some ; but within an 
hour two or more assaults were made, with like result. 

After the last assault we kept up a heavy fire for some min- 
utes, until some person, some officer perhaps, between the lines, 
but nearest ours, yelled out : " Cease firing, cease firing ;" re- 
peating the command several times. Amid the smoke and 
darkness it could not be told who or what he was, whether 
Union or rebel. In a few minutes the firing did, in a great 
measure, cease ; later it ceased almost entirely. At same time a 
burning building in the suburbs of Franklin fell in, making a 
great light, by which we saw several, as many as a dozen, stand- 
ards raise along enemy^s line. He was preparing, no doubt, for 
a last desperate effort to break our front. Brisk firing immedi- 
ately opened from our side, increasing in volume and ceasing 
not until every battle-flag on enemy^s front was laid low. This 
ended the contest ; quiet succeeded ; and by midnight our weary 
forces had withdrawn from the field; crossed the Harpeth, and 
were slowly wending their way to Nashville. 

The loss to Seventy-third, in this battle, was nine killed and 
two wounded that died soon afterward; one of the former being 
Adjt. Wilmer, and one of the latter being Major Motherspaw ; the 
loss to Company C being one killed, Zenas Fulton, and one 
wounded, Joseph A. Allison, who died in enemy's hands. There 
were three or four others of company wounded, including the 
writer; and there were several others of the regiment wounded; 
but nearly all of these were slight wounds, excepting that of 
Captain Jonas Jones, and one or two others. Some two or 
three years ago writer saw a statement from Gen. D. S. Stanley, 
who commanded the fourth corps, until wounded, in this battle; 
which statement, published in a Philadelphia paper, assertec? 
that the fourth corps used ninety wagon loads of ammunition 
the afternoon and night of November 30, 1864. It is reasonable 
to suppose that much of this ammunition was destroyed ; wasted 
^n other ways than in "wild firing/' the enemy's losses^ af 


told, being about five thousand five hundred, or three times 
our own. 

Col. Opedyeke was breveted brigadier-general, and merited 
praise was bestowed in congratulatory orders, for the part borne 
by his brigade in the battle of Franklin. Any other brigade 
that was there would probably have done as well, under the 
same circumstances; but as three-fifths of the brigade were Tlli- 
noisians we take a pardonable pride in making this imperfect 
record of its most conspicuous achievement. 

Arrived at Nashville at one o'clock, P. M., December 1, 
1864. We were a very tired, sorely-taxed, and dirty lot of sol- 
diers. Sleep was imperatively demanded ; and most of us, as 
soon as halted, or assigned camping space, dropped on the 
ground and slept until sunset; by which time Capt. Kyger had 
found us, and was anxiously ascertaining how we had fared. 
Hood followed up immediately, taking position in our front; 
and on December 3d, James Ashmore, of Company C, a faithful 
soldier, was shot dead while standing picket. His body was 
buried in the cemetery at Nashville. This was the last loss 
which befell Company C, except in case of two or three mem- 
bers who were mustered out a few days in advance of the regi- 
ment at hospitals, and one recruit — Wm. R. Cook — transferred 
to the Forty-fourth Illinois. About this time we received noti- 
fication of the death of three members of the company in Ander- 
sonville prison, as before noted, viz.: Brown, Ellis, and Thorn- 
ton, with whom the writer had spent three months as a prisoner. 
How fortunate had we been, not only in escaping prison, but in 
passing comparatively unharmed through twelve battles, since 
separating from prison comrades, and standing now upon the 
threshold of the thirteenth, destined to pass safely through that. 
Fortunate indeed we were, and thankful, very thankful we are, 
and ought to be. 

On December 15th and 16th, 1864, occurred the battles of 
Nashville, in which command performed the part assigned it 
both days; in the afternoon of the 16th joining in the grand, 
majestic charge, which was the finishing stroke to the rebellion 
in the west. Casualties to Company C, none to speak of, and 
to regiment very few, only one man killed, and probably a 


dozen wounded. Enemy hugged his works so closely that his 
fire passed above our heads. On our reaching the works, those 
of the enemy who did not surrender fled with precipitated 
haste. With utmost enthusiasm our troops pursued the flying 
enemy, until darkness closed the race. Started early on the 
17th, but our cavalry took the job off our hands, pursuing 
Hood so closely that he crossed the Tennessee River, with only 
a few shattered and broken fragments of his late ^ oflensive 
army. We followed to Pulaski, Tenn., at which point, a day or 
two before Christmas, we heard, for the last time, the whiz of 
an enemy's bullet. 

Leaving Pulaski we took up our line of march for Hunts- 
ville, Ala., arriving January 5, 1865. Here we remained until 
March 28th ; then going by rail to Blue Springs, East Tennessee. 
While at Blue Springs the war closed; Lee and Johnston sur- 
rendered, and Abraham Lincoln was assassinated. News of the 
latter produced the wildest frenzy amone our troops. The latter 
part of April were ordered to Nashville. Going by rail, we 
arrived in due course. Hostilities having ceased, the excite- 
ment incident thereto having subsided, we led a quiet camp life 
up to middle of June. The regiment was mustered out June 
12, 1865, starting a day or two later for Springfield, 111., to re- 
ceive final payment and to disband. 

We give name of each member of Company C that was 
present for muster out June 12th, except where already noted; 
see list of sergeants and corporals and remarks below on page 
126, which with the fifty-three men dropped from the roll by 
July 1, 1864, and the following dropped since, or mustered out 
in advance of the regiment, make the one hundred and four 
men, with which company entered the service: N. Brady and 
I. W. Ward, transferred to United States engineer corps, July 
20th and August 21st, 1864; E. P. Brown, Wm. F. Ellis, and 
John Thornton, died at Andersonville ; James A. Allison and 
Zenas Fulton, killed at Franklin; James Ashmore, killed at 
Nashville ; Nathaniel Henderson, mustered out May 4th ; Will- 
iam B. Cowan, May 17th, John Braselton, June 2d, and Daniel 
Suycott, June 8, 1865 ; Samuel W. Sigler, transferred to Vet- 
eran Reserve Corps, January 10, 1865, and William R. Cook, 


transferred to Forty-fourth Illinois, June 12, 1865, fourteen 
in all. 

TiLHOK B. KvGBR, deceased. John P. Junes. 

William H. Nbwlin. Thomas Jusd. 

David McDonald. Abraham Jones. 

Pleasant B. Uuffuan, Claibobne Maddbh. 

Samuel J, Boen. • William Martin. 

David Bkansoh,* deceased. James S. Peck, deceased. 

William D. Bales. Harland H. Reaoon. 

John Doop. Joseph W. Reaoon. 

Henoebson Goodwin. Waltbr Scott. 

Ahacy M. HASTif, Isaac H. Thompson.* 

H&NBY C. Hbndbbson. Benjamin Purduh. 

GeoBGB J. Harrier. Isaac R. Thobntok. 

In all, 24 

Add five sei^eiinte and eight corporals, 13 

Previously dropped from all causes as indicated, 67 

Total, 104 

Danville, III., September 4, 1886. 

*0n detached service in'rear, fall term. 

VH^syvgr^y^^^gr y<iry yy*y^^ 



" Januarv 1, iNJl, tli«* arinv of tlu* I'liitiMl Slates for activi* sorvire consiHted 
of 1 l,r»ii.S iiHMi. May 1, lst»5, tli«'n» Wfiv 7'.»7,S(»7 iiioii on an ivr duty, while 202, 701> 
iiioiv \vt»ri» al»si*nt. I)uriii^' tlu» stnijrLdt^ tlii*n» w(M*r I4.<MM) kilU**! in Itattle, 1S6.0(K) 
diotl fiY ni diseast*, 2<»,(M)n di»Ml in n*lM*l prisinis, 4'.^n()0 «lit»d from wounds, 2S0,0<K) 
were woundi'd, and l.s.'>,iMK) rtM'ordcd capturiMl and niissin«r.'* 

The ahovc is ipiott'd from tht» llmul-lnmk of ll^ftltn in thf Wtir of the ReMHotif 
issuotl in 1SS7 by tlit* Illinois (N'utral Kaih'oad Company. A. II. Hanson, <u»n- 
t'ral PasstMijror AjjtMit, and dt'dirattMi to tiio 

. -^vC orand /Irnw o 1r)c l\^ii_ 

From tlic <amo souhm' w»* u)«':in thi- followinir statistirs: "The first C'onfcd- 
orat«*s captUH'd l>y Unitm forrrs was on May H», ]S{\], at (':imp Jackson, Mo. 
Nundifr <*ai»tunMl. t\:\M. Tlio tirst iM-ih-rals capturtMl hy nhcl forcos was on July 
21, isrd, at Man:i^>as. or IJnIl linn, Vji. NnndM^r missing and raptinvd, 1,400. 
Tlie largest nunihi'r of (\»ni'«'dr rates fnllin;; at any one time into Federal hands 
was on July 4. 1 >•»".. at Viekshnrjr, Miss. Numher of prisoners. :M,<»i)0. The 
largest nnndM*r of Fnlj-rjils fnllinjr at any one time into < 'onfederat«^ hands 
was at Shiloii, i*r IMtl>l»nr;.' Landing. Teiiii., April il and 7, isr.2. Number of 
prisoners, :>,0'»o." 

We jjfive the>e tiirJin-s as report<'d ])y tiie antliority ipioted from, whieh omits 
anv mention «»f Viek-.l. nr.:, ami we ha<l to e<insuh *M|rant's Memoiis" to ascer- 
tain the number «»f ('Mnf«'d<Mjit«'s surrendered at that point Jidy I, 1S»J;>. JVoba- 
bly the jrreatest nnmbi'r of l-'edorals falling at any one time, or within a brief 
period, into Conffileratf hands was durinir tlie s«'ven »lay>' retreat of the Army 
of the Potonuu-. Jnnt- *_'»*» i«» July 1, 1s»»l', in whieh tht* innnlM-r of Federals minitihfj 
is reported by "Hand bo».k " at l.'l.:iiM». The Federal prisoners taken at Chieka- 
nian^a are i'iiil»rae«'d ninler tlie jreiKMal hea<I of m/V<^/«.7 nund»er, 4.?M">. The 
^rreatest nnmlM-r of ( Mni'ediTates reported a.s iiii;<Kiinj in any one enjrajrenient is 
i:V»21, July I to :J, I-^"'.:;, at < Jeiiys]»nr;r. 

There seems to In* nt> data or statisiies wliatever simwinjr tlie number of 
Federal pri.^oners who attempt«'d an escape from <'aptivity, or showinjr wliat j[)er- 
eentage of those attempt ioL' or startinir <^»n a trip of that kind succeeded in their 
efforts. Th(» lirst reeor«l mad»'. ]»roba])ly. in cases t»f success in this line was 
when indiviilual |»risoner> or ^maII stpia«N tirst r<»port<Ml witldn the Federal lines; 
and in cases of faihin', tlif data or rei-ord. if anv. was made ]»v C'onfederate 

NC)TK.--\V*» ha\«' never b.-i-n able t«» fullv vdifN liie n-c«»rd of thr nnft»rtu- 
nate coinrad*'. T.ivlor. mi !it!«.»:.-i! i»n }»aji* X\ '»f tl.i< narrative. A mvsierv sur- 
r<^unds his fat«*. Why m«- }•« i-i^^tt-.I in l^eini: *' i»-ft alMUi'" is a -in'-^tiMn we ean nut 
answer. He mav, i«»r ^mmm r«ason. have ndslfil us l»VL'i\iM:i a \\T«»nL' ::iv«'n name 
at the time \\(f hit him. W** hatl !<'arned, luron.e familiar with liis surname, and 
also the nann* and nnnd>«'r of th«' n'lrimei.t Im' ])(lonir«'d l«». iH-fim- anv motive 
could have e\ist«'d in his mii:d i«» prom]»t hitn t«» deeeise m<. \V«' have reliti- 
quished the task of further veril'yinj; his ri'ct»rd. 








Treatment by Inhalation. 

TFASC M«ni( ^ (tIClSTOftO. 

^tiCO Arvt\ SUniMI, ttilKkil'n. fa. 

Consumption, Asthma, Bronchitis, Dyspopsla, Catarrh) K^ 
Fever, Huadache, Debility, Rheumatisni, Neuralgia, 


"T).r tnmi'miiiil (Kviit-n ■rTi-.iIiiu-nl," Dr*. ,'^- i'l.lrn. So .? 
It<.'t: I'lnliMlch.hi.i, li.i'.i bvf.i UHUi); Tiir tlic l.i>,l sfVrl.U-t.i v.-iitB, U * • 
I II iiiiil NliroKt^". ma.eKf/i;:fii. tail tbtti 

III. tliDl it i>. *r_iiL nil over UierworU. 

Iiht^rlyt" rtfifr I'j tin- MT-iwtni^-ltall 

'■ UxltKii Stibi.