In and Out of Rebel Prisons Part 8

Finally, after talking the matter over, I agreed that if my comrades did not come within an hour, I should think they had got ahead of me, and would go on with him, for this night at least. We sat there and waited until about one o'clock, and, as they did not come, I started on with him, feeling like a new man after the good lunch and the rest. Captain Alban, who was a large, strong man, six feet high and in robust health, took my haversack. This lightened me up a good deal, and I was too plucky to let him think I could not keep up, and so I stubbed along, notwithstanding my swollen legs and feet, and that night we put in seventeen miles, after I met him, before we went into camp.

CHAPTER XV.

HOW TO ROAST A CHICKEN--A GOOD SQUARE MEAL ONCE MORE--ON THE TRAMP AGAIN--WE MEET A DARKEY WHO FURNISHES US SUPPER AND CHICKENS FROM HIS MASTER'S HEN COOP--SURPRISED BY TWO WHITE MEN WHILE EATING BREAKFAST--Pa.s.sING THROUGH WALHALLA--AVOIDING SOME CAVALRY.

When we made camp on this, the twelfth day of my tramp, it was back of a plantation, in a large woods, near a spring. We always made our camp near good water, if possible. Here I showed the captain how to cook a chicken; and for the benefit of camping parties I give the receipt here, which, if followed, will, I a.s.sure them, afford as fine a dinner as can be made from a chicken.

Bending over a small sappling about two inches through at the b.u.t.t, I fastened the top to the roots of a tree, and then trimmed off the branches. From the centre of the bow thus formed, I hung the chicken by means of a limb with a hook on the lower end, so that the chicken nearly reached the ground. Then building a fire in a circle around the fowl, with dry twigs and bark, as a blacksmith would to heat a wagon tire, I soon had a chicken as finely browned as ever was cooked in an oven. I salted it as it roasted and within an hour I ate the first satisfactory meal I had eaten in eleven days, roast chicken and corn bread, with a tin cup full of cold water. After a good sleep which lasted until nearly dark, I felt like a new man, and only for my swollen and inflamed feet and legs, would have felt fit to endure anything.

We started out at dark, having made a supper of the remains of the chicken and some corn bread, and, before daylight had made twenty miles, though my legs kept getting worse, if possible, and pained me so that at times I could scarcely keep from crying out in my agony.

Captain Alban would not leave me, and encouraged me to renewed efforts when I was almost fainting from pain.

It was Sat.u.r.day night that I met Alban, and on Monday we ate the last of our chickens and corn bread, and with full stomachs, but empty haversacks, we started out at dark again. About nine o'clock, as we were going along through a piece of woods, we suddenly came upon a negro with a large wooden trunk on his head. He was frightened at first but after finding out that we were Yankees, he was about the most delighted darkey I ever saw. I told him I would give him twenty dollars if he would get me five chickens, and corn bread enough to eat with them. This he promised to do, and told us to wait there until he toted the trunk over to his old grannies, and when he came back he would whistle, to let us know it was him, and when we answered the whistle, he would take us to the house and give us some supper. He was soon back and we went with him to the edge of the woods, near the shanty, when he again left us to make sure that everything was all right. It was not long before we again heard the low, musical whistle, which I answered, and he came up with two other negroes and took us to a cabin, where a good fire was burning and an old black woman was cooking some bacon and corn bread, or hoe cake, as they call it. While auntie was getting our supper prepared, the three men went out to see about the chickens.

It was not long before they were back, and had five nice fat fowl, which they proceeded at once to dress for us, and by the time we had finished our supper, which we greatly relished, the fowl were ready, the feathers burned, and the floor carefully swept, so that every trace of the transaction was removed. I had a silver quarter in my pocket which I gave to aunty, and which she received with profuse expressions of joy and grat.i.tude. We staid with them until eleven o'clock, and although we only walked eleven miles after that, I was completely used up the next morning when we went into camp again. I cooked three of the chickens that day, and we eat one for dinner and one for supper.

That night we walked twenty miles on the railroad, crossing four long iron covered bridges, and went into camp in a large piece of woods some distance back from the railroad, as daylight again warned us to seek shelter.

About eight o'clock we made a fire and were roasting our last chicken, making our breakfast in the meantime, on the one left from the night before. I had laid aside my overcoat, and was therefore in the full dress of a cavalry lieutenant, shoulder straps and all, and we were chatting over our breakfast, when I heard the brush crackle close by, and looking up we saw two white men within a few rods of us; one dressed in the homespun usually worn by citizens in the south, and the other wearing the uniform of a Confederate soldier.

I just had time to say to Alban, they are unarmed and I can handle one if you can the other, when they came up to where we were sitting. They both seemed a little embarra.s.sed, and the situation was slightly embarra.s.sing to us.

After the usual salutation, the elder of the two said, somewhat apologetically: "We saw the smoke out here, and thought some one had built a fire while possum hunting last night, and was afraid it might get into our fence, which is just through yonder thicket."

We a.s.sured him that we would put the fire out carefully when we went away, which we would do as soon as our chicken was done. I was well aware that they must know we were Yankees, and feared that our tramp was over for the present, but anything was better than suspense, and rising to my feet I said to the old man who stood near me: "Well, sir, I suppose you know that we are Yankees; now, what do you propose to do with us?"

"Yes," said he, "I know you are Yankees, but you need have no fear of us, we are Union men."

"How is it, then, that this young man wears the Confederate uniform?"

"Well, sir, to save being conscripted and sent to the field, he joined a company of home guard, who are nearly all Union men, and by doing so is kept about here."

I well knew he was telling the truth, and I grasped his hand and shook it heartily, and while we all sat around the fire, I told them of our imprisonment and escape, and of our long tramp for freedom. They told us their names were John Addis and William Addis, father and son, and that they would do anything they could to a.s.sist us.

They went to the house and had some wheat biscuit baked, and some sweet potatoes roasted for us, the young man promising that if his mother would consent, he would go with us to our lines; but she was so fearful that he would be captured and shot as a deserter, that she would not listen to the proposition for a moment, but sent by him a hearty G.o.d-speed to us.

Mr. Addis directed us to his brother in Towns County, Georgia, and said that he had heard, that the Union forces were in that county a few days before, and it would be perfectly safe for us to travel in the day time, pa.s.sing ourselves for Confederate soldiers on furloughs.

He said that at Walhalla, thirteen miles ahead, they were very vigilant, and at Tunnel Hill, (nineteen miles) there was a picket station, at a gap in the mountain, which it would be necessary for us to flank. He gave us the name of the captain of a company of youths who guarded this pa.s.s, which I carefully noted, and instructed us as well as he could, how to get around this gap. The young man went with us about two miles, to get us past the depot without being noticed, and then bade us good bye, saying that he would like to accompany us north if he could. We started on, feeling much encouraged, expecting to get beyond the picket at Tunnel Hill before daylight. But it soon commenced raining fearfully, and the walking was slippery, which made it intensely painful to my poor inflamed limbs, and chafed the skin off my stockingless feet, as they slipped up and down in legless boots.

I stood it as long as I could, but at twelve o'clock I was obliged to give up, and drenched to the skin, we lay down under a pine tree beside the road, and covering ourselves with a wet blanket, with my overcoat for a bed, and the rain beating in our faces, we slept the sound refreshing sleep of tired soldiers. We awoke just before daylight, wet, cold and stiff, and started on towards Walhalla, which was about a mile ahead. I thought the one street that pa.s.sed through that little hamlet, was the longest I ever saw. It was daylight when we entered the town, and the early risers were stirring, but they were all negroes. We walked rapidly, but it seemed as though we would never get through the village and gain the woods beyond. And finally seeing some covered wagons just at the further edge of the town, with the owners cooking their breakfast, we concluded to make a flank movement to the right, as though we were going to work in the woods. We gained the woods in safety, and crossing the road, went in a considerable distance, and sat down on a fallen tree, ate our breakfast and rested for about an hour.

As it was still raining and very cloudy, we concluded to go on, and try and flank the picket post at Tunnel Hill before night, thinking they would not be as watchful during the day. We kept in sight of the road, and hearing some mounted men coming, we hid until they pa.s.sed. We could plainly hear them talking, and concluded that it was the relief, going up to change the guard. Going on, we kept the road in sight, until we came to a plantation, which we thought best to go around, keeping in the edge of the woods that skirted it. It was a long detour, and when we tried to come out on the road again, we could not find it. There was a path in the woods, leading up quite a steep looking hill. It seemed to be well traveled, and thinking we could go over this hill and probably come out on the road, we followed this path in a circuitous way for nearly a mile, when we came to the top of a ridge, that seemed about ten rods wide, and densely covered with large timber. Looking down on either side, we could see through the clouds and fog, a valley of wooded land on one side, and clear land on the other. We walked along this ridge all day, and as the sun was completely obscured, we could not tell in what direction we were moving. We examined the moss on the trees, but sometimes it would be on one side, and then on the other. About five o'clock, our path led down the mountain, and in half an hour more, we were surprised to find, that although we had followed the path all day, we had come out just where we went up in the morning. We learned after, that this was Cheat mountain, and is a high ridge shaped like a bowl, with a valley in the center, and we had walked around the crest all day, making nearly ten miles. It was now about sundown, and reconnoitering in different directions, we finally found the road again, and laying down in some weeds, waited for darkness.

CHAPTER XVI.

BACK INTO WALHALLA--WE RUN INTO A REBEL PICKET IN THE DARK AND ARE TAKEN IN--A LITTLE JUDICIOUS LIEING SECURES OUR RELEASE--OVERTAKING SOME WAGONS GOING FROM MARKET--CHATTING WITH A COMPANY OF REBEL CAVALRY.

Starting out again at dark, we walked on rapidly for about five miles, when we came to some covered wagons beside the road, and just after pa.s.sing them, I said to Alban, "I believe this is Walhalla again." He thought it impossible; so said I, "we won't go far before we come to a carpenter shop, with a bench outside." Sure enough, we soon came to the carpenter shop that I had noticed as we pa.s.sed hastily through the town that morning. Turning about we walked back, and soon found how we had made the mistake in the darkness. Near where these wagons were camped, there was a fork in the road; we had taken the right hand fork in the morning, and turned into the woods to the left of the road. The road we had found at night, was the other branch of the fork and turning to the left again, we had walked directly back to where we started from in the morning. It was now nine o'clock, and again taking the right hand road, we started back towards Tunnel Hill.

There were mile boards on this road, that told the distance, and as we had been told it was six miles to Tunnel Hill, we walked along briskly for nearly four miles, when all of a sudden there rang out clear and distinct that well known challenge: "Halt! Who comes there?"

The voice was not five rods ahead, and through the darkness we could discern the outline of the sentry, and just beyond a dim fire of dying embers.

"Soldiers!" was the prompt reply to the challenge by Captain Alban. "Have you got any showance?" (pa.s.s.) "Yes, sir," he answered. "Well, come in and let's see it." Alban was about twenty yards ahead of me, and as I had not yet spoken, I thought perhaps I might not have been seen, and as he approached the sentry, I crouched down, preparatory to sliding into the woods. But the guard saw me, and asked if that was another soldier behind, and upon being answered in the affirmative, told me to come in too. I said I didn't think he would allow us both to approach at once; that we never would at the front allow but one to approach at a time.

"Oh, we've got force enough to take care of both of youans," said he. So we walked in, and he took us up to the smoldering fire, where six or eight others were sitting and lying around, and speaking to some one whom he called Dock, told him to get up and look at our "showance." While Dock was crawling out, pulling on his boots, and rubbing his eyes, the guard asked what command we belonged to. We told them that we belonged to the 32d Georgia. (This was the regiment that was guarding Yankee prisoners at Columbia.) That we were stationed at Columbia, guarding Yankee prisoners; that we had just come to Walhalla by the train, and thought we would walk as far as Tunnel Hill, and stay there all night, and see the Captain, (giving his name,) who was an old friend of mine, that I had not seen since the war broke out, and I wanted to have a visit with him. That we were going to Towns County, Georgia, where my sister (giving a ficticious name), who was Alban's wife, lived; that I had a sick furlough for thirty days, and Alban had a pa.s.s for ten days, to go and see his wife. We mentioned two or three names that had been furnished us by Mr. Addis, and asked if they knew them.

By the time "Dock" was ready to examine our papers, we had got them thoroughly interested in us, and had so thoroughly impressed upon them the belief that we were all right, and then I showed them my legs which were so terribly inflamed, and told them that I was suffering from inflammatory rheumatism,--which was the nearest the truth of anything that I had yet told them--and groaned over the excruciating pain I was suffering. When I had fully impressed them with the truthfulness of my story, I took from my pocket an enlistment paper that I had, and produced it as my furlough.

I told them that I bought that overcoat of a Yankee for five plugs of tobacco, and got the pants for two plugs; that you could buy any thing of those Yankee prisoners for tobacco; They would sell the shirt off their back for tobacco. Finally "Dock" took my furlough, and as it was raining hard, and the fire would not burn, he got down on his knees beside it, and would blow up a little blaze, and try to make out the papers; but could only see that it was a printed and written doc.u.ment of some kind. At the same time I was groaning over my suffering legs, and rubbing them, and wishing I was at the captain's quarters, where I could rest and care for them. After "Dock" had tried in vain for sometime to make out my furlough, I said it was too bad to keep me there in the rain where I was sure to take cold in my legs; that the Captain could examine the papers in the morning, and see that they were all right. So he finally said, well I reckon you are all right, you can go ahead. If you want to go to Clayton it is the nearest way to take the left fork, but if you want to go to Tunnel Hill take the right. We pa.s.sed on a few yards to the forks, and not wishing to let them see how anxious we were to get away, we stopped and discussed the question whether we would go on to Tunnel Hill, or turn towards Clayton.

We finally turned towards Clayton, as we had all the time intended, and when we got out of sight and hearing of the picket post, we just lay down and rolled and laughed. Up to the time that "Dock" told us we could go on, we had scarcely the slightest idea that they would not detect the fraud, and march us off under guard to headquarters. Sick and lame as I was, I could not restrain my laughter at this adventure, for hours after.

We hurried forward however, for fear the officer of the guard might be making his rounds, and learning of our pa.s.sing the picket, follow us up to ascertain that we were all right. About one o'clock we halted, completely tired out with our almost incessant march of nearly forty-eight hours, in the mud and rain, with little to eat, and as wet as we were, we lay down in a thicket beside the road, and slept soundly until daylight. When we awoke, we were wet through and completely chilled, and started on to try and get warm. We soon came to a river which we were obliged to ford, the water being nearly up to our waist, but as we were already as wet as we could be, it did not make much difference whether we were in the water or on dry land.

We soon came upon some teams that were camped beside the road, being on their way back from Walhalla to Cherokee County, North Carolina. There were two rebel soldiers acting as guard for the teams, and the owner was a Doctor Washburn, formerly from Livingston County, N. Y., as he informed me. They were cooking their breakfast, but did not say anything about our taking breakfast with them. They, however, directed us to the house of a widow, a little farther on, where we could be accommodated. We stopped there, and she got us up a nice breakfast of corn bread, sweet potatoes and fried mutton, and I guess she thought by the way we eat that we had not had anything before in some days, and did not know when we would get anything again. This widow was quite bitter towards the Confederacy on account of her son having been conscripted, and she left alone, with no one to work her little farm or care for her children. She was too poor to hire the work done, and was obliged to do all that was done towards supporting herself and children; as her son's pay scarcely amounted to enough to keep him in tobacco, and left nothing towards the support of his mother and a family of small children. Having eaten and paid for our breakfast, we waited for the teams to come along, and then we concluded to travel with them, as it would give us the appearance of being all right, if we should meet any soldiers on the road.

We soon made ourselves at home in their company and I found Dr. Washburn a very kind-hearted gentleman, and I think that he more than half suspected our true characters, though he did not pretend to doubt that we were Confederate soldiers, belonging to the 32d Georgia. He offered to loan me all the money I needed, which, as he was a perfect stranger, seemed to me pretty good evidence that he knew I was an escaped prisoner and wanted to help me to get home. He inquired whether there were any prisoners at Columbia who were from Livingston County, N. Y., which he said was his native place; and I said I didn't know where any of them were from, except I had heard Captain Cady say that he was from Rochester, N. Y., but I did not know what part of the North that was. I was more than once on the point of revealing myself to him, and now believe that had I done so, he would have a.s.sisted me. We traveled in company with them two days, and it was quite a help, to me especially.

The teams were so heavily loaded that I could not ride much, but on down grades and at the different fords we came to, he asked me to get on and rest up a little, which offer I gladly accepted, crossing the Chatuga river on the back of one of the mules. Dr. Washburn had a Columbia paper, which gave the particulars of Sheridan's famous fight with Early in the Valley. When they went into camp the first night, Alban and I went into a barn near by, and slept until morning. Having travelled until ten o'clock and forded three streams, we were very tired and slept soundly. The next day we started on ahead of them, but they overtook us before night; as they halted early, however, we kept on and were overtaken by a man on horseback who told us he lived about five miles further on, and if we got that far, we were welcome to stay over night with him. We found his house about dark, and he gave us a good supper and a good drink of apple-jack, which he fished out from under the bed.

Alban would not drink any, and tried by winks and sly nudges, to keep me from accepting a second invitation, but I didn't take the hint worth a cent. Mr. King (for that was his name) was running an illicit distillery near where we first met him.

After we had taken two or three drinks, he became talkative, and I think my tongue was a little loose. He did not go a cent on the Confederacy, and thought the whole thing was about gone up; and he didn't care much how soon it collapsed. If he was in my place, he would not go back into the Confederate army and I told him that I did not intend to. Before we went to bed, we were on pretty good terms with one another and the world in general, with the exception of the Confederate government. He lived near the bank of the Teroria river, and before breakfast we went down to the river, and cold as it was that morning, stripped off and took a good bath.

When we went back to the house, he again fished out the demijohn from under the bed, and we took a good one for an appetizer. Alban was fidgety and nervous, for fear my tongue would run away with me, but I was as jolly as a lord, and as wary as a member of Congress.

After a good breakfast, for which he would take no pay, we crossed the Teroria river and pushed on briskly. I felt just in humor for any adventure, and one soon presented itself.

We had not gone far when we saw a company of reb cavalry coming towards us from ahead. We sat down on a log beside the road and waited for them to come up, as there were no woods to slip into just there. When they came along I saluted the Captain and asked, "Whar youans going, Captain?" "Oh, just going up the road a piece," he answered, and pa.s.sed on without questioning us.

One of the men at the rear of the column stopped long enough to ask us where we'uns were from, and I told him we had just come from the valley and had had some right smart fighting with Sheridan. I then hastily detailed the fight as I had read it in the Columbia paper. He seemed flattered with the fact that he had talked with two old soldiers who had been with Earley (for they were home guards), and rode briskly forward to overtake his comrades.

We soon came to Clayton, Georgia, and the court being in session, there was quite a crowd gathered about the court house. We were debating whether or not it would be safe to keep the road, which led directly past the court house, when a mounted officer, who had evidently found some applejack somewhere, came riding down to meet us, and when he learned from us that we belonged to the 32d Georgia, and had just come from Earley's army, wanted the latest news. We told him that we had had a right smart fight with Sheridan, and taken his camp, with all of the stores and a number of pieces of artillery, but that while the boys were plundering the camp, Sheridan had surprised us and cut us all up. Having filled him as chock full of news as he was of applejack, we told him we were going to Hiawa.s.see, and asked the most direct road.

He directed us across a common, that would take us to the road leading to Hiawa.s.see, that would not necessitate our pa.s.sing the court house, and rode back to retail the news we had given him.

After pa.s.sing Clayton two or three miles, we stopped at a farm house to get dinner. As we sat down at the table, the host introduced us to the sheriff of Rabun county. We chatted pleasantly with him during the meal, but felt greatly relieved when we were once more on the road.

The next day (Sunday) we struck the Hiawa.s.see river, and fording it, we pushed on, and just about sundown, came to a house that seemed to promise good fare, and, representing ourselves to be Confederate soldiers on a furlough, asked for supper and lodging.