Early on the morning of the 20th of May we scaled the Blue Ridge--a very

severe undertaking, and one which caused us great labor and fatigue.

When one stands at the foot of the mountain and looks up, the summit

appears wrapped in a blue haze; and when on the top, looking down, the

foot appears belted in blue, a shade or two deeper than azure.

From the summit of this ridge the view is indeed grand and picturesque.

Other mountains rise up in every direction, to meet the vision--"Great

Smoky," in East Tennessee, being among those distinctly visible from the

point where we then stood. It is no unfrequent occurrence for it to be

raining down in the valleys, while on the summit of the ridge the sky is

perfectly clear and the sun shining. Going along the top of the Long

Ridge, or as the natives call it, the Ridge Pole, we were astonished at

its hight and singular formation--it being, I believe, the most elevated

point of land in the Alleghany mountains, though my data on this subject

is by no means positive. The summit of the ridge is extremely

narrow--being not more, in many places, than six or ten feet in

width--the descent on the west side being regular, but steep, while on

the east it is little else than a precipice for a thousand feet down.

One particular feature of these mountains is the fact, that both sides

and tops are covered with a deep, rich soil, of very dark, or black

color, the tops, however, being so high as to be destitute of timber.

Descending to the foot of the ridge, on the eastern side, we came to the

head waters of the Tallulah river--so called by the Indians, on account

of its extraordinary falls, which are, perhaps, the highest in the

country, though no single fall is as high as others which might be

mentioned. There are five cataracts in a quarter of a mile, the water

descending four hundred feet altogether. The roaring of the waters can

be heard an incredible distance; and no wonder that the red men named it

Tallulah--thunder river.

We followed the stream to its junction with the Chattooga, where the two

form the Tugalo, being conducted on the route by a man named Ramy, whom

we hired to pilot us through the most dangerous sections of the country,

the distance being twenty-eight miles. He was a perfect specimen of a

backwoodsman, and loyal, after the most rigid definition of that word.

Near the mouth of the Chattooga a brother of his lived, who had a son in

the rebel army and who was a violent secessionist. He was member of

Young's Georgia cavalry, which was at Clayton, then only six miles away.

On the west side of the Blue Ridge, we had frequently passed off as

rebel soldiers in disguise; but generally for Union men--always suiting

ourselves to the company we were in, or as our interests demanded; but

on the east side, we knew that we had nothing to expect from citizens if

we claimed to be Yankee soldiers, as they were nearly all against us,

and, therefore, we almost uniformly represented ourselves as rebels on

our way to Augusta to join our regiments. We belonged, we stated, to the

4th (confederate) Kentucky Cavalry. But we had as little to do with the

people as possible; but when we could not avoid meeting them, we told

this simple story with occasional variations, to satisfy the curious and

the doubting.

Young Ramy was at home when we reached his father's house, and in the

morning we left early, telling the people we were going to Walhalla, to

get on the morning train; but as soon as we were out of sight, we turned

down the Tugalo, and stole a canoe, below the first shoals, and traveled

constantly till we ran our boat aground on a shoal, and were compelled

to abandon it and wade ashore, trusting to our chances to obtain another

craft.

[Illustration: "Our mule-team broke down, and we had to walk several

miles in our handcuffs and chains; a very fatiguing process."--=Page

358.=]

When daylight overtook us, we hid out in the mountains, on Brasstown

creek--a stream noted for its high cascades. Traveling on the river by

night or by day, as best suited our purposes, we finally reached the

head of the canal, seven miles above Augusta; one day, at noon time, we

passed through a section of the country where a large number of Col.

Bill Thomas' Indians were quartered--some farming, some tending stock,

while others were making baskets, and yet others were fishing. All

appeared busy, in a lazy sort of Indian way; and most of them had been

wounded in the rebel service. Being unfit for active duties, they had

been sent to this part of South Carolina to recruit themselves, and to

raise something to support the tribe who were entirely helpless. They

were Cherokees, who have always lived on the Tuckasege river, and at

Qualla town, on the Qualla river, in North Carolina. They were the

saddest appearing Indians I ever saw, and seemed to have lost the last

vestige of that firey independence which characterizes their race: and

as far as I could discover, they had not been benefited by intercourse

with the white race.

The Tugalo is one of the most beautiful streams I ever beheld. Its banks

are finely diversified with mountain scenery, generally in the distance;

while the bottoms are in the highest state of cultivation--indeed, some

of the finest plantations, and best built mansions in all the southern

country, are on this river. At times, the water, which is always clear,

runs smooth and deep, for some distance, when suddenly it is broken by

shoals, miles and miles in length; the current roaring and dashing among

the rocks, with astonishing velocity; so that to navigate the surging

waves, required all the skill and presence of mind we could muster.

After the Tugalo makes its junction with the Seneca, the stream takes

the name of Savannah, or as the mountaineers call it--the Sav-a-naw.

Below the mouth of the Seneca, the river rapidly widens, and the water

assumes a yellowish or muddy color, and it is full of wild and dangerous

shoals. The bottoms, on either side, are wide and well cultivated; but

on account of the fearful freshets, caused by the rising of the mountain

streams above, there are no houses built near the river--they generally

being from two to three miles back, and sometimes even farther than

that; so that we seldom saw any one, save the slaves, and their

overseers--the former being the most abject human beings I ever saw.

Occasionally, the overseers themselves were black, and as far as I could

see, they were equally severe on the laborers, with the white men.

There are no towns at all, immediately on the Savannah, above Augusta.

Occasionally we would meet a keel boat coming up to the plantations

after corn for the rebel army, they being propelled by poles, and manned

by negroes--the man in charge occasionally being a white man; usually,

however, he was as black as a crow. Almost every boat contained half a a

dozen rebel soldiers as a guard; and these would sometimes hail us as we

passed; but as they could not stop without "losing deal" with the

current, we would not, for fear of losing deal with them, and therefore,

our conversations were of brief duration. If we happened to meet on a

shoal, they had always as much as they could do to climb up over it, and

we had all we could do to keep from being dashed to pieces among the

rocks, so we paid little attention to each other.

There appeared to be a continual falling of the river from the mountains

to Augusta; but from there to the coast, I believe that the stream is

exceedingly smooth and placid. Some of the shoals above, are miles in

extent; and each is known to the keel boatmen by some significant name.

Among those which we deemed from observation to be the most dangerous,

are the Little river shoals, so called because they are just below the

mouth of Little river; the Elizabeth shoals--but why so called I am not

aware; and the Trotter shoals, named from the fact that on ascending

them with a keel boat, the crew is compelled to trot with their poles to

make headway.

This last named rapid is seven miles long, and is one continuous hill in

the river, down which the current rushes with frightful velocity, the

channel winding back and forth from shore to shore, while the stream

itself winds around, with zigzag curves, and is thickly besprinkled

with rocks; so that the water is lashed into white caps and foam--the

waves rolling short, quick, and angrily, to an incredible hight.

Another dangerous rapid is the Ring Jaw shoal, not far from Augusta; the

river here being almost dammed up by great rocks, among which the

current forces itself with a short twist, from right to left, and back

again with such power that the passing boat is nearly wrung in twain, as

it proceeds. Another shoal, about the last in the river, is near the

head of the canal, and is called Bull Sluice, and is somewhat after the

fashion of Ring Jaw, and about as dangerous.

To add to the dangers we encountered in navigating the stream, we had to

run over several mill dams, some of which were from six to eight feet in

perpendicular hight; and there was but a single method of passing them,

and that was to go over. These dams were invariably built of loose

rocks, of great size, piled on the shoals, sometimes from shore to

shore, but occasionally only forming a wing, partially across. These

mills were almost the only signs of habitation; the structures being

generally strong frames, and they were kept constantly running; but as

they had all been seized by the rebel government, it was with the

greatest difficulty that the people could get either meal or flour.

Still the citizens of this section of South Carolina lived far better

than did those of any other section of the South which I have visited

during the war. They all seemed to enjoy plenty, and it was of the best

quality; but the white women, as a general thing, were not good

cooks--from a lack of practice, I presume--and the negroes were usually

too careless to prepare a meal properly.

_CHAPTER XXXIII._

BLOODHOUND CHASE--TAKEN PRISONER--DRUNKEN AND EXCITED REBELS.

On the night of the 3d of June, 1864, we arrived in Hamburg, opposite

Augusta. The first thing necessary now, was to see how affairs stood in

town, and we accordingly ascended a hill immediately back of it, where

we could see, not only all that was going on in Hamburg, but much that

was transpiring in Augusta. We secreted ourselves under a dogwood tree,

which was low, and covered with vines, thus forming an excellent hiding

place. If no one passed, and made it a special business to look in, we

were perfectly secure; and at that place we patiently awaited the

approach of daylight. We had learned on the day previous, that the

powder mill was so closely guarded, that nothing could be accomplished

there, so that we directed our best efforts to the destruction of the

bridge.

My plan, before leaving camp, had been to float down under it in a boat,

and throw burning arrows into it, provided I saw no chance to _mug_ the

guard, and do it boldly. At the foot of the hill we heard a good deal of

talking, and could not account for it; but when it got light enough to

see, judge our astonishment to find ourselves within seventy-five yards

of the railroad, and right before us was a long train loaded with

federal prisoners; while farther down in the town we could see several

other trains of the same kind. The town was full of captured Union

soldiers, and as near as we could guess, there were twelve hundred

rebels guarding them. The situation was most embarrassing; to stay where

we were was almost certain destruction, and an attempt to go elsewhere

would be certain to be discovered. But the best we could do, was,

evidently, to keep quiet in our hiding place, bad as that was. We hoped

that in a little while the trains would fire up and leave; but on the

contrary, they lay there all day. We could see, too, that there was a

strong and vigilant guard upon each end of the bridge; and we could

discover patrols walking the streets in each town, and in every

direction. The prisoners, as usual, looked half starved and sickly; some

were clad in bright, new uniforms, and looked well, and it was easy to

divine that _they_ were only recently captured. These were in tolerably

good spirits, too, which was a sure sign that they had not been long in

the hands of the cruel enemy. Others, again, were not quite so well

dressed, and looked meager and thin, but were not despondent. These had

probably been prisoners for some months; but by far the greater number

were clothed in rags, which were in the most filthy condition. They

looked very much emaciated and weather-beaten, and their dejected and

hope-forsaken countenances, spoke plainly of a long and soul-sickening

captivity. Poor, wretched, starved, dejected and sick, they were being

moved to that loathsome den, and wholesale place of murder--the

Andersonville prison. Of course we did not know their destination for

certain, but we judged it from the fact that all the engines headed

west.

It was now clear that we were to be unsuccessful. Nothing could escape

the vigilance of that guard, either on land or on water. It was positive

that we were played out on _that_ string, and what to get at next, we

did not know; and even a chance of escape at all argued extremely

doubtful. We remembered that on the Tugalo river we had passed under a

very fine frame bridge, for ordinary travel, across the Tugalo; and we

thought we must do something to damage rebeldom, and we therefore made

up our minds to go back and try to burn it, but we had better have gone

straight through to the coast and made our escape, as I believe we could

have done, without detection.

From our place of concealment we could see the arsenal in Augusta, the

powder mill up the river, and nearly every important building in the

place; nevertheless, we dare not move from our retreat, for fear of

being seen. The poor prisoners were kept under the strictest

surveillance, lest they should attempt to escape, and a great many of

them, as we could see, were prostrated and helpless from disease. We

almost, ourselves, sickened at the sight of these poor, suffering men;

and at the certainty that we were powerless to help them. They were

crowded into the cars and on top of them, as thickly as they could be

packed; and to hear the sick pleading for water, was most heart rending.

Poor fellows! some of them would beg until they exhausted themselves,

before it would be given them, and what added to the cruelty of this

neglect, and to the torture of the men, was the fact that there was

plenty of water but a few yards away.

The day wore on, and long awaited night closed in at last; and we then

stole from our hiding places, and took the road back up the river. About

four miles from Hamburg we "confiscated" a couple of fine horses--the

property of a man named Rambo. I am inclined to think we were

discovered, just as we led the horses out of the stable, for I heard

some one speak at the house, though it was after midnight. On the

following morning, we stopped at a blacksmith shop, to have one of the

horses shod; and while there, were overtaken by a pursuing party of four

men, who demanded the animals. I felt confident that quite a force was

after us, and that this was but the advance guard; and as our object was

to gain time, and get into the swamps, and timber, we gave up the

horses, unconditionally, and without reluctance; saying at the same time

that it was very hard to have to foot it clear back to Franklin.

"What are you going to Franklin for," said the leader of the party.

"Why, our command is there," I answered, in an off hand manner.

"What are you doing here, in this State," he demanded.

"We are on special service for Col. Thomas."

"What is the nature of your service," he asked.

"O, we are making preparations to move the Indians all over the

mountains, into South Carolina; they are about to starve to death up

there in Qualla town. We are compelled to do something to keep them from

suffering."

"Well, if you are soldiers, and going back to your command, we don't

want to stop you, but really we can't let you take the horses," they

replied.

It was such a common occurrence for Rebel soldiers to steal horses, that

nothing was ever thought of it, so after recovering the animals, this

party was satisfied to start back. We could have whipped out the squad,

for they were unsuspicious, and gave us every advantage; but we knew

very well that if we did even kill every one of them, it would do us no

good, for the whole country behind us was now alarmed, and before night

it would be aroused far ahead of us.

As soon as this affair was settled, we took the big road, until out of

their sight, and then turned into the woods. We then took every

precaution to break our trail; wading mile after mile in swamps, and up

creeks, picking our way on rocks and hard ground; but all to no purpose;

for it was only a couple of hours until we heard the deep mouthed bay of

the blood hound, running on our track. When we heard the dogs, we were

laying down to rest, and had taken off some of our clothing to wring the

water out of them. Hastily putting on our clothes, and accouterments, we

sprang off through the woods, at our highest speed, practicing every art

known to woodsmen, to break our trail; but we were unsuccessful; the

dogs were unerring. At one time the hounds would be within distinct

hearing of us; and then we would run our very best, until we came to

water, and then wading through, or up, or down it, we would break the

trail so badly that we would balk the hounds for some time; but

occasionally we had to stop to take breath, and then in a brief time we

would hear them coming again. Once we made a large circle through the

woods and doubled on the trail; and this time we started them to running

a back track, and thought we were rid of them entirely; and as it was

late in the afternoon, and we hoped to escape in the darkness, we rested

a few minutes, and then traveled till nearly dark; when, being tired and

hungry, we concluded that it could not make the matter much worse to

stop at a house and get some supper; but just as we approached one, we

heard the dogs close behind us. We sprang over the fence, and across a

plowed field, and for a while succeeded in baffling our pursuers. We

then crossed two fields, and gained a dry swamp, the brush and timber

being very thick and dense, so that it was with difficulty that we could

make our way through it; and it was not long till the dogs struck the

right trail, and quickly we heard them crashing through the bush, close

behind us; and we were compelled to make a stand at once, and fight with

dog, or man, or anything that approached us. On came the hounds, through

the thick undergrowth, making the deep forest echo with their savage

baying, until, with a sudden bound, their leader was upon us, his eyes

glaring, and his mouth foaming. For an instant he paused, as he saw us

through the gloom, and the next made a spring directly at Gray's face.

He was large, and snow white, and this made him the better target; and

as he sprang at my companion, I turned upon him, and fired, and he fell

dead in an instant. But at that moment the whole pack rushed upon us,

more like demons, than even dogs; and it was with difficulty that we

could see their dusky forms amid the gloom, but their glaring eyes

served as guides for an almost unerring aim; and when we had discharged

nine shots, we had killed one dog and wounded four more. The flash of

the pistols kept the dogs at bay, wonderfully, but did not drive them

off; and scarcely had we fired the last shot, when the men came up,

forcing their horses through the bushes, cursing and swearing like

madmen. When they got within about a hundred yards of us, we halted

them, saying that if they did not stop, we would fire on them.

"Who are you?" demanded one of the men.

"Yankee soldiers," I answered.

"What are you doing in our country?" they inquired.

"We are here by order of our General," was the response.

"How many are there of you?" they next wanted to know.

"Two."

"Are you up a tree?" asked one.

"No; we are not the sort of men to take to trees," we informed them.

"Have you killed any of our dogs?"

"No," said I, and then whispering to Gray, we moved out toward them,

some distance from the dead animal; then hailing the men, I said:

"There are but two of us, but we are well armed, and can do you a great

deal of damage, if you drive us to it. We know that you have a strong

force after us, for we have seen you two or three times to-day; we know

that resistance on our part would only result in useless bloodshed;

still it is our privilege to sell our lives at as dear a price as we can

make you pay; but we don't want to hurt you, nor do we want you to hurt

us; and, therefore, if you will agree to treat us as prisoners of war,

we will surrender without a fight, because we see that one would be

useless."

"You will soon be made to surrender on our terms," was the response.

"Then approach us at your peril," I answered, "for we intend to shoot as

long as we can crook a finger."

During this parley, another large party had joined the first, and we

could now hear them disputing among themselves, when presently they

hailed us cheerfully:

"Halloo, Yank."

"Halloo yourself," we replied.

"If you will surrender, we will treat you as prisoners of war, and there

shall not one hair of your head be touched," said the commander of the

party.

"All right, sir," said I; "on these conditions and no others, you can

have our arms."

I then invited two of their men over to take our weapons, but they asked

that we should fire them in the air first; but I objected, as evincing a

lack of confidence in our honor; but the truth was, the loads had all

been tried on the dogs, but they failed to go, and I did not want them

to know how helpless we were. They then told us to stand still, and they

would all come to us; and they at once flanked out on both sides to

surround us, every now and then uttering assurances that we should not

be hurt.

Finally they approached us direct and demanded the arms; and while the

process of surrendering was going on, Gray, who was one of the coolest

men I ever met, began to crack jokes with them to give them confidence

in our intentions--inquiring the "news from Virginia," and asking them

what they were going to feed us on, and if they had any coffee; and on

receiving a negative answer to his last question, he next asked for

whisky; and to this they replied "plenty," and promised us a drink. But

no sooner were our arms delivered, than they changed their manner. One

of them, named Chamberlain--a Massachusetts Yankee, as I afterward

learned--swore by his Maker that if we had shot one of the dogs, he

would have retaliated by killing a man; and at once they commenced

looking around among the pack to see if any of them were hurt; but it

was so dark, and the dogs were so restless, that they were unable to

ascertain what damage was done; nor was it ascertained till next

morning.

The party that captured us, after a little parley, got the other squad

pacified and set out on the road to return; and on the way we stopped at

the house where we had intended to take our supper--the name of the

owner being Serles--and it is located on what is known as the river road

to Abbeville court house; and here we were met by another pursuing

party, madder and drunker than either of the others. Indeed it was the

most excited and drunken mob I ever saw; and I never expect to look on

its like again. It required all the address we possessed, to save

ourselves from the infuriated crowd--seventy-five in number, while a

glance at the dogs, showed that there were thirty-six of them--a very

respectable force to capture two men. Our surrender had been made to

Lieut. Col. Talbot, and Capt. Burt, commanders of the party.

Mr. Serles was a gentlemanly old man, and I am persuaded, did what he

could to pacify the crowd. His wife, a good old lady, also did what she

could for, and seemed to sympathize with, us; but their two daughters

were of a different style altogether. They ran through the excited and

drunken crowd, begging and pleading with the infuriated wretches to hang

us, exclaiming: "Don't let them live, men! don't let them live!" and

these expressions were not without their effect upon our captors. For

once in my life I saw the "_secesh_" heart thoroughly "_fired_." The

drunken mob rolled around us with pine-knot torches flickering in their

hands; and the smoke and glare added to the hideousness of their excited

countenances, and gave to the scene an additionally diabolical

appearance.

We told them that if we had to die, it would at least be generous to

give us a good supper, before sending us on our long journey to the

other world; and on hearing this, the old man Serles walked around among

the crowd and invited them to dismount, and take supper with him; and in

this, I could readily perceive that he was anxious to gain time for us.

Looking at their jaded horses, he took care, further, to remind them

that they had ridden very hard, and were killing their stock; and added

that he had plenty of corn, and that he would take it as a favor if they

would all stop to eat. A number then began to dismount and feed their

horses, while some of them, who had cooled a little from the effect of

passion and whisky, began to ride off, in twos and threes, to their

respective homes. Some twenty or thirty militiamen remained for supper,

keeping a strict guard over us all the time.

A Col. Harrison who belonged to the party, now took the lead, and

questioned us strictly, but failed to elicit any information as to the

whereabouts of our troops. We were examined separately, but our stories

agreed exactly, as we had conferred together, and concluded to "plead

guilty" of being scouts, in order to keep down suspicion as to what we

really had been commissioned to do. We had driven our arrow heads all

down in the ground, at Hamburg, when it was discovered that we should

have no more use for them; and when we saw escape impossible, we threw

away everything but our arms and ammunition; so that nothing was found

upon us to cause our real mission to be detected.

At length the party finished their supper at Serle's house, and

remounted, starting for Col. Talbot's house, ten miles distant; and this

we reached before daylight. Here a part of our captors left us, and we

were turned over to another guard, who allowed us to lie down in the

parlor, and sleep till dawn.

On waking, we saw not one of our captors--all being gone; our guards

being entirely new men. The whisky bottle was in circulation, and it was

not hard to discover that trouble was brewing. Fortunately, however,

they had not patience to _wait_ to get drunk, before they attempted to

carry out their projects. It was plain to see that we had been entirely

abandoned by those to whom we had surrendered, and who were in duty

bound to protect us; and that we had been purposely left in the hands of

a party who had made no stipulations; and we therefore prepared for the

worst.

When they roused us up, which they did in a rough, insulting manner,

they told us to get ready to go with them; and as soon as we raised to

our feet--which it was very difficult for us to do, on account of the

race we had made the day before--they commenced to tie Gray with a rope;

and after getting him secured to their notion, they put him under a

strong guard. Turning to me next, they took another cord, and pinioned

my arms behind me as tight as they could draw the rope. It was a severe

operation, and it was performed by a muscular negro, who did it under

compulsion; and when completed, they led me out to a big tree, in the

edge of the woods, taking the negro along, carrying an extra rope.

When at the tree, they asked me if I had any confession to make; but I

replied I had none to make to _them_; and they then said, if I desired

to pray, they would allow me a few minutes to prepare for eternity. I

told them that I did not want to pray; that I was ready to die, and that

I did not fear death.

"Have you nothing to say?" they asked, with astonishment.

"Yes; I have a few words to say that may interest you," I said quietly.

"Out with it," replied their spokesman; and I went on:

"You perhaps have never been concerned in military affairs; you are not

soldiers, and have nothing to do with the Confederate army. You are

citizens. You are now about to commit an act that will meet with the

severest punishment that military law can inflict. We are United States

soldiers, acting in discharge of our duties. You, as citizens, have no

right to interrupt us. Now, I perceive that you are all old men; and

have sons in the Confederate army, perhaps. Our General will retaliate

if you hurt a hair of our heads. If you hang one or both of us, he will

hang man for man. How do you know but he will select some of your sons.

He will be sure to do it if he learns the part you are taking here; and

you will find it impossible to keep him from discovering this. Then you

are all rich men, for I have heard your talk in the house, and your

appearances indicate you to be men who do not labor. Now we are members

of separate regiments; I belong to the 4th Ohio, and Gray belongs to the

5th Iowa, cavalry. If we are hung, and our regiments ever find you out,

as they will be sure to do, if ever they come into this country, they

will burn every dollar's worth of your property they can discover; and

they will hang every man they can catch who was concerned in the

transaction. If you are prepared to make this sacrifice, I am."

A little _non plussed_, they now left me under guard a short time, and

went off into the woods, as I supposed, to talk the matter over; and

when they came back they took me to Talbot's house again, and untied us

both. Talbot then brought out a decanter of whisky to treat all hands;

but in his conversation he made an insulting remark, to the effect that

he wanted to drink first, as he would rather drink after the blackest

nigger he had than after a Yankee, whereupon we refused to drink with

them.

On the night previous, as they were marching us along, one villain tried

to shoot me in the back; but although the cap bursted loud and clear,

the gun missed fire. He told his companion, and I overheard him, that

his piece was loaded with twelve buck shot in each barrel; and when he

made the attempt to fire, he was not more than the length of the horse

behind me.

While Talbot's folks were preparing breakfast for us, they made an

estimate of the distance we had run the preceding day, reckoning from

place to place, and they reached the conclusion that we had traveled at

least eighty miles. I had myself, already estimated the journey at sixty

miles, after we left our horses, which was at a place eighteen miles

from Hamburg. The time consumed in this trip, was from two o'clock of

one morning, till the same time the next--twenty-four hours in all; and

it was the roughest day's travel I ever had; it being doubly severe from

the fact that we had to be wet so much, wading through the swamps to

throw the dogs off the trail.

I was much pleased with Talbot's wife. She was a perfect specimen of a

southern lady, in her demeanor, and appeared to sympathize deeply with

us. She was large, and portly, but very fair; had very long hair, of

glossy blackness, and large, brilliant black eyes, which, when they

turned upon us, seemed to be struggling to speak; and they did speak,

though not in words; for as I watched their deep expression, they seemed

to say: "Poor fellows, I pity, but am powerless to help you!" She

presided at the table and saw that we were bountifully fed.

After breakfast, Chamberlain came up, and he and Talbot agreed to take

us in their buggies, to Edgefield. When Captain Burt was about to leave,

the night before, he whispered to me that he could do nothing more for

us; and that he was afraid the mob would not let us live; and he further

informed us that men were then scouring the country for the purpose of

raising a crowd to waylay the road for us next morning; so that if we

even escaped death at the hands of the party in charge of us, it was

almost certain we should be taken from them next day, by men who could

not be appeased.

He shook hands with me kindly when he left, and said he was sorry for

us, but he had done all he could do to save our lives, and keep with us;

and that the excited fools were now getting angry with him. I then

thanked him, and he left us. Chamberlain's manner had altogether

changed since his night's sleep. When he left us he was the most

vindictive man in the party; but now he was one of the most mild, and

considerate.

A pair of handcuffs were put on Gray, and he was put in Talbot's buggy;

after which I was securely tied with a rope, and given over to

Chamberlain.

When about to start, Chamberlain asked Talbot which road they should

take--the upper or the lower; when I turned around and said:

"You will do us a favor by taking us on the upper one."

He looked at Talbot as if in doubt; but he soon perceived that I knew

the danger, if we went the other way, and Talbot turned and took the

route we desired, and we arrived safely at Edgefield Court House. On the

way, Chamberlain was full of talk; and I soon perceived that he was a

very vain man, and I plied him so well with "soft soap" that, by the

time we reached Edgefield, he was almost a friend.

The town was full of excited men, and fearing the mob, our keepers

hurried us off to jail, and turned us over to the Sheriff, until an

assistant Provost Marshal could be found; and on entering the jail we

were at once put in solitary confinement; and in a short time we were

separately taken before the Provost Marshal's agent, who I soon

discovered was a consummate villain, conniving at our seizure by a mob.

He was about to refuse to receive us at all from the militia, but there

happened to be a rebel Lieutenant near, and who said he was on duty

there, and that he would represent the confederacy; and he ordered us in

jail, subject to the orders of the military authorities at Augusta.

Failing to get us to "blow" on each other, or our officers, they put us

in solitary confinement again.

The jail at Edgefield is the strongest one I was ever in in the South;

and that is saying a good deal, as I have been kept in several, and am

therefore competent to judge. We had a sorry time of it--the jailor

telling us once, that the people outside were so infuriated, that he

feared they would tear the jail open, and take us out and lynch us.

Detectives were employed to quiz, and even lawyers sent to examine us;

but they found out nothing. They got hold of our journal in cipher, and

that gave them the greatest uneasiness, as they imagined it contained

some great military secrets.

About the 9th of June, our cells were thrown open again, and we were

allowed to come out in the light; and then at once transferred to

Captain Dearing, and a guard of twelve well armed men, whose duty it was

to escort us to Augusta. After introducing himself and stating his

business, the Captain informed us that the citizens were swearing that

we should not be taken from Edgefield alive; but he said that he would

take us, nevertheless, at the risk of his life.

"You shall not be mobbed," said he, "while you are under my care."

We were heavily ironed, and chained together, and then put in a wagon,

which was driven rapidly away from town before the crowd of citizens

could rally.

It was forty miles to Augusta, and before we had got hardly away, our

mule team broke down, and we had to walk several miles with our

handcuffs and chains, a very fatiguing process; but aside from this, our

guard was kind, and supplied us with provisions from their rations.

[Illustration: "She was singing, in a clear, musical voice, snatches of

some song, which she occasionally stopped, to give a shrill whoop at a

half-wild cow she was driving before her, at a fearful rate, through the

thick timber."--=Page 386.=]

CHAPTER XXXIV.

THE WHIPPING POST--TORTURING NEGROES--STARVING OUR PRISONERS--THE

CHARLESTON JAIL--OUR OFFICERS VINDICATED.

At Augusta we were put in close confinement again, under the tender

auspices of a man named Bridges--a New York Yankee. He certainly can

boast, hereafter, of one thing: the discovery of the smallest amount of

food which is required to support human life. We were in the jail at

Augusta 57 days, and at the end of that time, were so starved as to be

mere shadows of what we were. I could no longer walk steadily, and felt

as weak as when just beginning to walk after a severe attack of typhoid

fever.

At the end of that time, Captain Bradford, the rebel Provost Marshal,

came to see me, and we had a very pleasant conversation. He said that he

used to be a scout in their service, and had been promoted for

meritorious service. He informed us that our case had been submitted to

their Secretary of War, and that the order was "close confinement during

the war." Capt. Dearing also used to call and see us, once in a while;

and the Catholic priest there, Rev. Father Dugan, once called to see me;

aside from these, we never saw any one but the turnkeys, unless it was a

prisoner, or some one who wanted to see a prisoner, while we were there.

In the cell opposite mine was a man confined for whipping a negro to

death, while in that on my right, was a negro charged with murder; in a

neighboring cell was a Yankee confined for bigamy; nearly over my head,

in the second story, was a negro woman, held for attempting to poison

her mistress; and somewhere near her was an Italian soldier, in the

Federal service, whom the rebels claimed as a deserter from their army.

The "big room" was filled with rebel deserters, thieves, pickpockets and

all sorts of petty villains.

In the next cell above mine, was an "institution" which has been a curse

to our country, and a disgrace to our own character as freemen; and an

"institution" which has been the witness of more agonizing torture in

the South, than any of us can imagine--_the whipping post_--that ready

means of inflicting terrible and summary punishment, without any trial

or other law, than the caprice of the master, or mistress. I did not see

this machine, because I never got up there; but managed to draw an

accurate description of it from Luck, a negro, who was undergoing

sentence upon it, and had been whipped upon it repeatedly. He described

it as being made of heavy square timbers, in the form of a cross; and at

the ends of the arms were iron fetters, made to clasp around the wrist,

and hold them outstretched; and at the bottom were similar irons to

secure the feet. The victim is first stripped naked, then stretched upon

the cross, and made fast, when a turnkey plies a whip, with a short

handle, and a broad heavy strap, punched full of holes for a lash, and

which is, altogether, about two feet and a half long. The strap strikes

flatwise, and wherever there is a hole through it, a blister raises in

the skin; and if it be a heavy blow the edge of the leather around the

openings cuts the skin open, around the blister, and the wounds bleed

profusely.

There was scarcely a day that there was not one whipped, while I was in

that jail; and sometimes there were as many as six flogged in one day;

and generally from three to five. I have counted the blows at times, and

once they numbered one hundred and eighty-seven, when the punishment was

stopped, by the victim becoming insensible. He must have been a very

robust man, for most generally when they were whipped so hard, they

would faint under from twenty to forty lashes--according to the force

with which they were laid on. It was the custom, the turnkey said, for

the careful master to stand by, to regulate that matter to suit himself.

I could generally give a close estimate of the age of the slave they

were punishing, by the sound of the voice. Sometimes the pleading would

be heavy and strong, as though it came from a large man; at other times

I could hear the wailing cries of a feeble, and sometimes of a healthy

young woman; and occasionally I heard children screaming under the

terrible torture; and once in a while I would recognize the trembling

voice of an old man. Their struggles would, at times, be almost

superhuman, as they writhed in their iron manacles; and I have often

stopped my ears to shut out their heart-rending supplications for mercy.

This whipping was generally done by a young man named Evans, a turnkey,

and the head jailor Bridges, who, as previously stated, was originally

from New York. The young man, who was in jail for helping to whip the

negro to death, said that they only struck him eighteen blows; but that

after he was let down, they allowed him to drink too much water, and

that killed him.

"Oh," he said, "they kin stand several hundred, ef you don't let 'em git

too much water, while they are hot."

Filled, as this jail was, with all sorts of villains, guilty of every

degree of crime, it was certainly a hard place for any man to find

himself.

When we had been there fifty-seven days, we were taken by a Captain

Gunn, under a strong guard, to Charleston, and there turned over to

Maj.-Gen. Jones, who, I am sorry to have to say it, robbed us of two

hundred and eighty dollars in Confederate money. Well, it wasn't much in

quantity, and was worth perhaps less in value, but it really looked mean

for a _Major General_ to steal from us what even the militia allowed us

to keep. At Gen. Jones' quarters, Captain Gunn and guard left us. They

had treated us like gentlemen, and when we were hungry they divided

their own rations with us, for the authorities gave us NONE to travel

on. I wonder how they would have liked their men traveled on empty

stomachs? On the train I saw Dr. Todd, President Lincoln's

brother-in-law, and he seemed like a very clever man and a gentleman. He

gave each of us a nice, light roll and some ham; nevertheless, he was a

strong "secesh." When a command of rebel soldiers began to talk roughly

to us, he would say:

"Come, boys, let us be generous to prisoners."

He had charge, as I learned, of a very large hospital, at or near

Charleston.

Gen. Jones (oh! the villain,) sent us down to Charleston jail, with

orders to have us kept in close confinement, and he allowed us no

liberties whatever. At the jail, the guard turned us over to the

keeper--one John Simes--who, though not a very clever man--that is, I do

not believe he would steal anything he could not carry off--had some

good traits about him (for what thief has not)? He put us in the

"tower," which is the strongest part of the building, and the reader

can, perhaps, imagine our feelings, at thus being kept FIVE MONTHS,

confined under the fire of our own guns, on Morris Island; the shells

bursting around us constantly, all the time we were there, and when one

of the shells from the huge three hundred pounders would explode in the

vicinity of the jail, it would rock the tower to its foundation.

In a few days after we were incarcerated in this place, twelve hundred

of our officers were brought to the city, to be put under fire of our

own guns, in retaliation for the shelling of the city; and among them,

was Lieut. Henry, of my own regiment, who had been captured at the

battle of Chickamauga, and with him was Major Beatty, of the 2d Ohio

infantry, and from them I obtained a knife and a small file, to make

some keys with, for the purpose, if possible, of making my escape. I had

intimated my desire to them, and they tossed the instruments into my

cell, through the grating, as they were going up into the drum of the

tower to sleep.

I saw them once, after, for a few minutes, "on the sly," and learned

that they had been brutally treated, as had been all their comrades,

since the battle of Chickamauga.

In my prison were about thirty colored soldiers, belonging to the 54th

Massachusetts infantry, who had been captured in the attempt to storm

Fort Wagner. Poor fellows! they had a sorry time of it, as the rebels

had a particular spite at them; and some of their number, I learned, had

been sent off to the country, to men who claimed them as slaves. One--a

fine looking fellow, named George Grant--had so far gained the

confidence of the rebels, that he was made a sort of turnkey over the

prison; and he succeeded in getting a Union woman to bring him a piece

of thick brass for us to work into keys. It was a piece of stair carpet

bar, and was just the thing we wanted. Through a man named Leatherman, I

got a note to Lieut. Stokes, of the navy, and requested him to write to

my father, and let him know how and where I was. Stokes had been brought

to the place for exchange; and I will take occasion here to say that I

have it in my power to vindicate our officers from the charges so often

brought against them by our enemies, of not caring for the welfare of

the soldiers, and that they were selfish, and ambitious, and were

indifferent as to what became of us, if they only could get place and

power, and were able to make money out of the war. Here was an officer

of another arm of the service than that to which I belonged, who had

never seen me before, who knew nothing in the world of me, but who

interested himself deeply in my case; for as soon as he was exchanged,

he wrote the following letter to my father at Hillsboro, Ohio:

"NEW YORK, October 26th, 1864.

"SIR:--I have just returned from the South, a paroled prisoner.

While I was confined in Charleston, S. C., I saw your son,

James Pike, who was in solitary confinement in the jail,

together with his comrade Charles Gray, and was able to

correspond with them. They told me they were captured near

Augusta, Ga., in uniform, and under arms, and on "special duty"

for General Thomas; and also wished me to write to you when I

was released, and tell you that he was quite well and in good

spirits; but they were looking rather pale, poor fellows, from

their long imprisonment and short rations of food. I was kept

in the jail yard, while they were in the building. I

communicated by means of a negro boy who carried water to them.

"I promised them when I got out, I would do all I could for

them. I have just written to Col. Mulford, Assistant Agent of

Exchange, and to Gen. Thomas in their behalf. I can not promise

they will be able to effect your son's release, but they will

do all they can, I think.

"I had an interview with Col. Mulford on the flag-of-truce boat

coming down the James River, and he told me to make the

statement in writing, and it would receive attention.

"I saw your son last on or about the 6th of this month. I

trust, sir, he may soon be restored to you. I am, respectfully,

"Your obedient servant,

"THOMAS B. STOKES,

"Acting Ensign, U. S. N."

This letter was received on the 4th of November; but my father had

previously written to the War Department, and received the following

answer:

"WAR DEPARTMENT, WASHINGTON CITY,

"October 5th, 1864.

"SIR:--Your communication of the 28th ultimo has been received,

and I am instructed to inform you, in reply thereto, that the

Department will use all the means in its power to effect the

release of your son, Corporal James Pike, of the 4th Regiment

Ohio Cavalry, now held in confinement, as you state, at

Charleston, South Carolina.--Very respectfully,

"Your obedient servant,

"LOUIS H. PELOUZE,

"Ass't. Adjutant-General.

"Mr. SAMUEL PIKE, Washington C. H., Ohio."

From Gen. Grant he also received the following note:

"HEADQUARTERS ARMIES OF THE UNITED STATES,

"CITY POINT, VA., October 24th, 1864.

"Mr. SAMUEL PIKE, Washington, Ohio:

"SIR:--I am directed by Lieut-General Grant to acknowledge the

receipt of your letter of September 28, and to say that he

perfectly recollects the services rendered by your son. In

regard to an exchange, Gen. Grant hopes during the coming

winter, or perhaps earlier, to be able to effect the liberation

of all our soldiers now in the hands of the enemy.--I am, sir,

very respectfully,

"Your obedient servant,

"ADAM BADEAU,

"Lieut-Col. and Mil. Sec."

The man who, above all others, has always been most systematically

abused, is General Butler. He has ever been represented by his enemies

as a cold-hearted tyrant in his dealings with our soldiers, and has been

constantly blamed by the rebels with retarding all their pious (?)

efforts to effect speedy exchanges; but the following letter completely

vindicates him from such slanders, if nothing else would:

"HEADQUARTERS DEP'T OF VIRGINIA AND NORTH CAROLINA,

"OFFICE COMMISSIONER FOR EXCHANGE,

"FORT. MONROE, VA., Dec. 18th, 1864.

"SIR:--In reply to your communication of November 14th, the

commanding General directs me to inform you that he has ordered

a rebel prisoner, now in Fort Delaware, to be held a hostage

for your brave and gallant son.

"The prisoner is of the same rank as your son, and is to be

subjected to the same treatment as your son receives at the

hands of the rebels.

"He sympathizes deeply in his sufferings, and hopes by these

means he may soon be released.--Very respectfully,

"Your obedient servant,

"HENRY H. BENNETT,

"Private Secretary.

SAMUEL PIKE, Esq., Washington C. H., Ohio."

My father also received a very kind letter from Gen. Thomas, promising

to render me all the assistance in his power; and the correspondence

ought to satisfy any one, that our officers, so far from neglecting my

interests, were really bestowing more attention to my case than I

deserved; nor do I believe they ever neglected the interests of any

soldier whose situation was properly brought to their notice. But to

return to my narrative, after this digression.

We remained in Charleston jail for five months, and during that time I

communicated with a Georgian, named Jim Robinson, who agreed, that if we

could make the keys, he would show us a sewer under the tower, leading

out beyond the prison walls and the guards; and with this understanding

we labored for weeks, making in all about thirty different keys, out of

tin, bone, etc., besides eighteen out of brass. These latter were filed

so as to fit the locks, and with them we were enabled to open every door

leading to the sewer. We then opened the cell doors, and let the

Georgian out during two successive nights; but each time, when he got

out, he was seized with fear, and, trembling, would excuse himself,

promising go if we would wait another night; but in the meantime he

communicated the whole affair to the jailor, who searched for the keys,

and found them in Grant's cell.

In prospecting about to get the keys, they seized Grant by the throat to

frighten him; but he struck the traitor Robinson with a large pocket

knife, and cut him through the instep of one of his feet. After this

failure we were too closely watched to get any chance to escape, and so

had to "sweat it out" as long as the rebels could keep us in that jail.

Our rations were a pint of meal, and half a pound of meat per day, and

when we failed to get the former, we had rice or cow peas dealt out in

their stead. Much of the time, however, we failed to get meat, and often

our meal would be so musty that we could scarcely swallow it, although

always ravenously hungry. The rations were always cooked for us, and

brought once a day; and we had our choice either to eat them up at once,

or set part of them aside. We could not, however keep it long, as the

foul air in the cells would spoil the best of food in a few hours; and

we, therefore, speedily acquired the habit of eating but once a day. The

quantity of food given us, to tell the truth, was not more than

sufficient for one light meal.

The Sisters of Mercy came to see us, after they found out our condition,

as often as the jailor would allow them to do so, or as they could find

time. They always brought some little delicacy, and to them we were

indebted for about all the medicine we got. We were badly afflicted with

scurvy, and they sent us potatoes and vinegar, which nearly cured us;

while a priest--Father John Moore--supplied us with books, thereby

giving us an opportunity to spend our time profitably and agreeably. We

were enabled to get light enough to read, provided the sky was clear, by

sitting at the grating door, which we were allowed to do four or five

hours each day; but if the sky was shrouded in clouds, the gloom of the

tower was like that of a dungeon.

In cell No. 8 was a Union man named Webb, in No. 10, an old fisherman,

and in No. 11, an Irishman, all of whom had been incarcerated for

aiding our officers to escape; and it was through Mrs. Webb that the

Sisters of Mercy heard of us.

During the first sixty days of our imprisonment we could get no water

with which to wash our clothing; and during the entire Winter we slept

on the floor without covering, but a short time before we left Webb was

released, and he gave us his blanket, and a Mrs. Trainor got an

opportunity to smuggle in another one. The jail, too, was literally

swarming with vermin, and to add to our discomfort, the inmates of the

jail were keeping up a continual noise, so that rest was nearly

impossible. In addition, when the air was full of fog or clouds, the

inner work of the jail was always streaming with water, which collected

on them, and which caused the floors to be continually damp.

The cell in which we were confined so long had a front of eleven feet,

with a rear six feet four inches broad, in the tower, and its width was

also six feet four inches; and often, for weeks together, we were not

allowed to step beyond the doors of this narrow cage.

But why add more relative to the horrors of this filthy pen? He who has

never experienced the torture of a Southern prison-house can form no

idea of the wretchedness inclosed; while the tens of thousands who have

been incarcerated therein, but who have been fortunate enough to escape

death, need no words that they may appreciate the cruelties inflicted.

CHAPTER XXXV.

ADIEU TO CHARLESTON--ESCAPE FROM THE REBELS--ARRIVAL IN THE UNION LINES.

"It is a long lane that has no turn," says an old adage; and our

captivity, like all things earthly, came to an end. When Gen. Sherman

moved upon Branchville, the evacuation of Charleston became a military

necessity; and when the rebels left the city, Gray and myself were sent

to the jail at Columbia, the capital of South Carolina. The presence of

Sherman's army appears to have almost worked a miracle, for from the

time we were lodged at Columbia, we received the best possible

treatment. Our keeper was Capt. Semmes, whose whole conduct toward us

was that of a gentleman, though a bitter rebel; and I got along finely,

except in a single instance.

We were put in a room in which there were about twenty-five persons,

twenty-one of them being deserters from our army, and the remainder

prisoners of war. Of course, we could never agree with the deserters;

and they put at me to convert me to their "faith," or rather lack of

faith, which occasioned me to insult them, and for this I was soundly

whipped for it in less than three minutes. I was not strong enough to

fight them, for they were just from the north, and had been well fed and

were in good health; while I had been shut up so long on short allowance

and unwholesome food, that I had little strength left; nevertheless I

went in whenever opportunity offered, and always came out second best.

Fearing if ever I got north again I would report them, they concluded to

take time by the forelock, and reported me to the rebels as a spy; and

either Capt. Semmes or his Lieutenant, gave an order that my hair should

be cut off as a punishment: and accordingly four of them seized me and

held me down, while a fellow named Jim Brown, a deserter from the 31st

Illinois, hacked off my hair. This miscreant is a man about six feet

high, with dark hair and eyes, and swarthy complexion--a very talkative

man--and, I believe, a fiddler. He was raised in the Sequatchie valley,

in Tennessee, but for several years has been living in Franklin county,

Illinois; and he, together with the whole vile crowd, took the oath of

allegiance to the Southern Confederacy, and were sent back north as a

reward for their rascality. They should forever be excluded from society

for their crimes.

When Gen. Sherman's army invested Columbia, the rebels took us out of

jail, and put us under fire of our own guns; but what for, we did not

know. There were about sixty of us altogether, and among the number was

the Colonel of the 1st Georgia Federal regiment; also a Capt. Harris, of

the 3d Tennessee Cavalry, who had been in close confinement for two

years and a half--heavily ironed all the time; and during the whole

period had been kept in one room, outside of which he had never been.

While we were under fire, a piece of one of our Rodman shells, weighing

about five pounds, struck me on the left shoulder; but as it was a

glancing blow, it did no other damage than to stiffen my arm a little.

That night (I believe it was the 17th or 18th of February), the rebels

started us off for Winnsboro, to put us on a train and run us to

Salisbury, North Carolina. This was the first time they had tried to do

anything with us on foot; and about three miles from Columbia, as we

were going down a hill, where on the left hand side of the road there

was a bluff several feet high, almost perpendicular, Gray sprang down

the bank and escaped to the woods. The rebels fired about twenty shots

at him; but I afterward saw him, and he told me that although several

balls cut close, none of them touched him; and he told me that he got to

the Congaree river, and swam over it next morning to our army.

I went on with the rebels till the next night, and then I left them; and

the way I escaped was this: we had been marching hard all day, and at

night all hands were very tired. We only had one skillet for the whole

party to bake bread in, and I rose about two o'clock in the morning and

began to cook. After awhile I wanted wood, and going up to the dead line

with an ax on my shoulder, I got permission from the guard to step over

to a tree top that lay just at their feet to supply myself. They

thought, I suppose, that I would not attempt to get off, and they

allowed me this small privilege; I had struck but few blows with the ax

before they turned their heads to watch the other prisoners; and as that

was my only chance, I was off at once, and made the best time I ever

did. After running about three hundred yards, I halted and looked

around; but I had not yet been missed, and I then felt perfectly safe. I

took the best course I could through a swamp and wood, and then struck

out for Columbia. I did not, however, proceed far before I came in sight

of camp fires; and immediately I commenced a reconnoisance. Stealing

close to their pickets, I discovered rebel cavalry, and away I went once

more through the woods, like a race horse--keeping all the time,

however, in sight of the camp fires; for I knew that if I followed their

direction, I would soon pass the rear-guard of the rebel army and stand

a chance to fall in with our own troops.

It was not long before daylight overtook me, and I was obliged to

conceal myself in a little cane-brake, in a narrow swamp. When I entered

it I felt sure that nothing but an accident would save me from

discovery; but there was no other chance, and into it I went, waist deep

in water. After traveling about a considerable time, I discovered a

place which afforded as much security as, and a little more comfort

than, any other; and after arranging the brush I laid down on a little

knoll of dry earth to rest.

From my hiding place I could distinctly see a brigade of rebel cavalry,

encamped on a hill but three-quarters of a mile from me; and from the

arrangement of the camp I knew it was on some road. All day long, not

daring to move, I laid and shivered in my hiding-place; and at one time

a number of soldiers approached near me, while driving out cattle from

the brake--eight of them coming within a few feet of where I laid; but

I was not discovered.

That night I struck the railroad, and traveled--sometimes near and

sometimes on it--as my judgement dictated most prudent, until I was at

length interrupted by a body of water, which I took for a river. The

railroad bridge over it was very high, but was in flames and rapidly

falling down; so I crept up to it to consider the chances of crossing

the stream. I saw a picket post about a hundred yards from the stream,

but there appeared to be no guard at the bridge itself; so I hastened up

to it, mounted the lower timbers, which did not appear to be on fire,

and on them I made my way nearly across, when I discovered that a

portion of them had already been burned out, so that I was compelled to

go back again, and I was fortunate enough to escape detection, and was

soon once more in the woods.

Near the bridge, at a mill, were three hundred rebel cavalry; and just

above were camp-fires enough for a division of infantry.

Before I struck the railroad, I slipped up to a house to inquire

something about the country; for I did not know for certain that I was

traveling in the right direction to strike our troops; but I was under

the impression that Sherman had taken Columbia, and was therefore aiming

for that point. Creeping quietly up to this house, I was just about to

rouse the inmates, when a man on the opposite side shouted:

"Halloo, the house;" and in a minute he was answered by a woman.

"We want," said he, "to get some feed for our horses; we have been

riding all day, and our stock is very tired and hungry, and if you have

any corn or fodder we want to get it."

The woman asked what they belonged to, and they answered: "Wheeler's

cavalry."

"Gentlemen," she said, "we have no corn or fodder, only what we buy and

pay the money for. We did not raise any this year; our crop failing

entirely. If we let you take what we have on hand we will have to pay

out more money to replace it, and that would be rather hard, you know."

"O, yes, madam;" was the reply, "we know that; but you might as well let

us have it as the Yankees. They will be along here to-morrow and take

every thing from you they can find."

This was news to me--just what I wanted to learn.

"Are the Yankees that near?" asked the woman.

"Yes, madam; they are not more than two miles in the rear of our army

now, and will be along here sure, to-morrow."

"Why, I thought they were away the other side of Columbia," responded

the woman.

"O, no; they captured Columbia day before yesterday," said one of the

party.

"Well, if that is the case," she answered, "you can take all the corn

and fodder we have got. You will find it down at the barn."

Now the barn was almost behind me; and when the woman told them where

the forage was they started instantly for it. Just on my right hand was

a low shed, that had been built to shelter sweet potatoes, which had

been buried under it; and the hills were covered with pine boughs, which

made it very dark under the roof; and as it looked like a good

hiding-place, I dodged down there, but fell headlong on an old sow with

a litter of young pigs, and some half a dozen full-grown shoats. Here

was a rather unpleasant situation! The hogs, alarmed and indignant at

the unceremonious intrusion, made a great noise, of course; and, as they

rushed out, they threw down a part of the shanty on my head.

I now laid myself down flat on my face, in one of the ditches, alongside

of a sweet potato "hole," and hoped to escape detection; but that hope

was a fallacious one. Scarcely had I straightened myself in the ditch

before two enormous dogs leaped over the fence and made directly for me.

There was no time to lose, I thought, and I sprang from under the shed

and was off, like a race-horse, over the white sand; nor did I stop to

look behind until I had cleared three fences.

On turning around, finally, I discovered the rebels at the barn, some

dismounted, but others on their horses looking for me, as if

exceedingly anxious to discover my whereabouts; but none of them

attempted a pursuit. Nor would it then have been any use, as I had

reached the edge of the brush, through which they could not have ridden.

I suppose they believed me one of their own men, as their camps were so

near.

After my attempt to cross the burning bridge, I picked my way around a

great swamp, and came to a large plantation; and hoping that I might get

a boat to cross the supposed river, before daylight, I went to the

house, which was not more than a quarter of a mile from the largest camp

I had seen; but when I reached it, I looked up and thought daylight was

approaching and I must secrete myself till the following day, when I

felt sure our army would pass by and I could join it.

I looked all around, and the best hiding-place I could discover was

under the house; so I laid down on the ground and rolled over and over

till I got to the chimney, where I thought I was pretty well secured

from observation, and then fell asleep. Presently, however, some one in

the house began to stir the fire, and that waked me up; and, on looking

about, I saw immediately above me a wide opening in the floor, so that

the inmates of the house could certainly see me if I remained where I

was; and of course I had to "evacuate" the position.

When I got out daylight still appeared no nearer, and I consequently,

concluded I must have been mistaken, and I therefore at once determined

to rouse the people, and stand off in the dark and talk to them, and

learn what I wanted about the country and the armies. First, however, it

was necessary to reconnoiter the position, and I went to the end of the

house, where I found a little hole in the window, which was curtained.

Through this hole I thrust a finger, and was enabled to gradually remove

the curtain so as to see the fire-place; and there was an old darkey

down on his knees, with his back to the fire and his breast resting on a

low stool. He was very old and very fleshy; and he evidently had not

been to bed that night. I wondered at this, and went around to the door

and opened it very gently and put my head into the room, which

contained two beds, in each of which were two white men. On the posts

were gray coats, and at the head of each bed were two guns, and on one

was a saber; so regarding this as a rather dangerous place, I did not

pursue the "reconnoissance" further, and I closed the door and left.

On the other side of the yard a light was streaming through the window

of a negro house, and I went over and peeped in and found a black man

sitting by the fire, half asleep; but with a low "whistle" I brought him

to his feet as quickly as if he had been bitten by a rattle-snake, and I

at once called him, in a whisper, to the window. I told him I was a

Yankee soldier in great distress; that I wanted to come in and warm

myself, for I was nearly frozen, and adding that I was very hungry.

"You can't come in heah, sah," said he; "my boss is in de nex' room wid

four or five soldiers, an' if dey ketch you, fore God, dey kill you."

"Can you not, then, give me something to eat?" I asked.

"Ain't got a bite cooked, sah; soldiers dun tuk all we had, sah," he

replied.

"Then, you can tell me a good place to go and hide, can't you?"

"Right down dar, sah; across dat ole fiel'; dar's an ole house you can

go an' git inter."

I only asked him the question to make him believe I was going in one

direction, when I would strike out in the contrary one as soon as I was

out of his sight.

From this plantation I continued to follow the course of the water I

wanted to cross, and in a short time I came to another plantation. In

each corner of the yard at this place, there was a large log cabin

standing; and selecting the one I judged to be occupied by the blacks, I

approached it, and knocked at the door, and almost instantly a huge

house-dog came bouncing at me from the other building; and as I thought

there might be rebel soldiers sleeping there, I declined an engagement

with the animal, and ran off down to the stables, and climbed up in a

loft, after which the dog returned to the house, apparently well

satisfied with his exploits.

[Illustration: "The ship didn't appear to care a cent about the muss it

was raising, but kept on, like a wild mustang when under the saddle for

the first time."--=Page 388.=]

As soon as he became quiet, I got down and stole up to the house again,

and softly opening the door, went in. The first thing I now did was to

feel around over the beds to see if any one was sleeping in the house;

but they were all empty. I then examined the table and cupboard, trying

to discover something to eat, but found nothing. Then I stirred the

ashes to see if I could raise fire enough to warm and dry myself, and

while doing this, I heard some one in the other house opening the door.

Knowing that it is always best to meet danger half way, I went out into

the yard, and as soon as I showed myself, was challenged by a female

voice from the porch.

"What are you doing in my house at the dead hours of the night?" she

fairly screamed.

"Don't be uneasy, madam," I said calmly, for I was afraid she would

alarm the camp which was within easy hearing distance.

"Who are you?" she screamed again.

"I am a soldier, madam, and I want to come in your house, and warm

myself."

By the time I said this I was close enough to see her, and discovered

that she had on no article of dress but one of those short-sleeved,

low-necked garments, made of muslin, which I have often seen on

clothes-lines, while in her right hand she had a vicious-looking rifle,

and she looked angry enough to use it. I now determined, if possible, to

get near enough to snatch the gun from her, if she made any attempt to

shoot. As I drew close enough for her to see the color of my clothing,

she hallooed out:

"You're a _Yankee_, that's what you are!"

"No, madam," I answered, "you are very much mistaken; I am no Yankee, I

am a Texan."

"Well, what were you doing in my house this time of night; why didn't

you come to the house we live in; what did you go there for? you might

have known there was nobody in there."

"Madam, I am a stranger; how should I know which house you were in?"

"Well, what do you want here, this time of night?"

"Why, I want to come in and warm, and get something to eat, for I am

hungry, and very cold and wet."

"Why don't you go over there to the camp, and get something to eat?' she

asked; "haven't they got plenty over there?"

"Madam," I said solemnly, "there are men over there who have not had a

bite to eat for three days."

"Is that so?" she asked in a relenting tone, and I saw at once that I

had gained the point I wanted--her sympathy.

"Yes, madam, that is true, and for my part, I have been wandering about

all night to find something to eat; but the boys all said they had

nothing, or else that they couldn't spare it, so I came off over here."

"Poor fellows!" she said, "why, I didn't know our soldiers were so hard

up as that."

"Madam, I must come in and warm," I said; "for I am really freezing,"

and suiting the action to the word, I started in.

"Well, wait," she said, half scared, "till I make a fire, and you may

come in."

In a few moments she had a bright fire of fat pine blazing, and she

called me in. She had also put her clothes on, and wrapped a shawl

around her. I sat by the fire some time and warmed, when she called to a

younger woman, and told her to go out in the kitchen and find me

something to eat. In a little while she returned, bringing a large,

"flat cake" of corn bread and a piece of raw bacon, which she gave me,

and I proceeded to appease my appetite. When I got through eating, I

resumed the conversation with,

"Madam, these are troublesome times, and these are days when we all need

friends; you, perhaps, need friends, and so do I. You befriend me

to-night, to-morrow I may have it in my power to help you."

"Why," said she, "what do you want?"

"Madam," I replied, "I don't believe you could find it in your heart to

injure me, and so I shall make a confidant of you, for I need your

assistance. I am a United States soldier."

"There now," she said, in an excited tone, "I said you were a Yankee,

and you told me, no. Oh! just think! what if some of our soldiers should

step in; and a body never knows when to look for them. What _did_ bring

you so close to the camp? Why if they should catch you here they would

kill you, and may be me, too; at least, they would take every thing I

had in the world. Oh! if I had known you were a Yankee, I wouldn't have

let you come in."

"Madam, I am no Yankee;" I answered, "I am a western man; I told you no

lie."

"Oh, but you are the same thing; you know we call all your men Yankees;

that is the only way we always speak of your men in our country."

"Well, madam, you help me to-night, and to-morrow I may be able to do

you a favor."

"What do you want me to do?"' she asked.

"Why, all that I want now, is for you to tell me how to get over this

river down here," pointing in the direction of the water.

"Why, bless your soul, that is no river; it's nothing but a mill pond.

Where do you want to go?" she asked.

"I want to go to Columbia, or to the nearest camp of Sherman's army."

"Well, I can put you in a path that will take you out on the Columbia

road," said she; and without more ado about it, she went out some

distance from her house, and showed me a path, by following which

through the fields, woods, around a swamp, and over a ridge, I would

eventually come to a big road that led to Columbia.

I thanked her, and she asked me my name, and told me she was a lone

widow, and her name was Mary Jones; and she certainly was young and

beautiful as one could wish. I followed her directions to the letter,

and found the big road she described; but lo! there was a big cavalry

camp on it. I picked my way around this, well satisfied that the woman

did not know they were there; so I struck out across woods, and

plantations, in the direction I wanted to go, and was soon so far from

the camp that I believed myself safe, and traveled in daylight, though I

still kept off the road.

I was making very good time across a piece of low swampy timber land, to

a ridge, a short distance before me, when all of a sudden, I heard sharp

skirmishing on the top of the very hill I wanted to reach, and knowing

our men were there, I was sure that all I had to do was to conceal

myself till the rebel rear guard was drawn back, and I soon found a

hiding place in a tree top near by. Covering up my blue clothes in the

green boughs a while, I found the skirmish had ended, but still the

rebels did not pass me, as I expected, and I therefore came out and

started on my journey, and soon found our infantry tearing up the

railroad at a rapid rate. I was now free once more, after a long and

tedious captivity! Those who have never been captives, can little

appreciate the feelings of one in my situation at that time. The sight

of friends, and of the old flag, and the prospect of soon again being

able to revisit home and friends, called up feelings too deep for

utterance, too intense for description.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

THE NORTH CAROLINA CAMPAIGN--DOWN TRIP TO WILMINGTON--AT SEA--DISCHARGED

FROM THE SERVICE.

On reaching our camp, I reported to Col. Fairchild, who treated me with

great kindness, and sent me, as soon as I was well rested and refreshed,

to Columbia, which place I reached at night, and on the following

morning I reported to Gen. Sherman. He was just marching out of town

when I found him, and he appeared highly gratified at my escape, and

expressed a hope that Gray would reach him all right. He then sent me to

Gen. Kilpatrick's command, to get a horse and outfit, which was soon

obtained, among which was a Spencer rifle--the latter given me by Col.

Starr, of the 2d Kentucky Cavalry.

It was not long before I had an opportunity to "see service" once more.

Capt. Northrop, of Kilpatrick's scouts, went with his men to Wadesboro,

North Carolina, and although there were but about thirty of us, we

charged the place without hesitation, and drove out about two hundred

rebels. It was a gallant little fight, but our Lieutenant was

killed--the only man hurt in the engagement, on our side. We captured a

great many prisoners, horses, and negroes, which we carried back to the

camp.

A day or two after this affair, Wade Hampton mustered up pluck enough to

give Gen. Kilpatrick battle. Early in the morning the Johnnies charged

on our pickets, on every road leading to camp; but when they met the

main body of our cavalry, they got handsomely repulsed.

When Gen. Sherman reached Cheraw, I went there, in obedience to orders,

to carry dispatches to certain points, within the enemy's country. I

traveled with the army, to Laurel Hill, in North Carolina, when the

General started me from that place on the 8th of March, in the night, to

go to Wilmington, with dispatches for Gen. Terry, who was in command at

that place. It was raining hard, and intensely dark, when I left camp;

and, as might have been expected, I got lost in the first swamp I came

to, and wandered around till morning, without getting anywhere; but

finally brought up at Gen. G. A. Smith's tent, in another part of the

swamp.

Being exceedingly tired, and sleepy, I arranged some rails by his camp

fire, and laid down to rest. When I did so the ground was dry; but when

the General woke me up, I found the water four inches deep, all around

the rails. He then gave me a good breakfast, and a pass, as the

"bummers" were not familiar with Gen. Sherman's chirography, and had

arrested me on the previous night. Some of them even seemed to doubt the

General's ability to write, urging as a reason for their opinion, that

they had never seen anything he had written. I talked to them, but they

were inexorable, and I was compelled to go back to a picket partly to

prove my identity.

Gen. Smith gave me a horse to ride to the river, and I then made good

time. Twelve miles above the mouth of Rock Fish creek, I stole two

negroes, and a boat, and abandoned my horse; and at dark I was at the

mouth of the creek, on Cape Fear river, down which I proceeded rapidly.

This is not a wide stream, until it passes Wilmington; but it was very

high at that time, and the current was swift; and below the mouth of

Rock Fish, as far as the town of Elizabeth, it is the straightest

natural water course I ever saw; indeed it was almost as straight as a

canal.

My contrabands worked very hard at the paddles, for they knew that I was

going to make them free, as soon as they reached Wilmington; and we got

along remarkably well, considering the fact that it was extremely dark.

We came near being stove to pieces several times, by snags, and once

were caught in an eddy, in the middle of which was a whirlpool--an ugly

place, in which we came near being drawn under. We labored assiduously,

however, with all our strength, and finally succeeded in escaping, but

our boat was nearly full of water, and our strength almost exhausted.

Although the largest whirlpool I ever saw, I do not think it is always

there, but is the result of an extraordinarily high water, sweeping by

the curve in the bank.

When daylight overtook us, we pulled ashore, and hid ourselves and went

to sleep, thinking we had passed the town of Elizabeth, which was the

only point on the river at which we anticipated danger; but when it got

entirely light, we discovered that the place was yet a little below us,

and on the opposite bank. If we remained where we were, in close

proximity to the town, we knew that detection was certain; and I

therefore got my black crew on board again, and dropped down a little,

to the mouth of a creek, and then pulled into it; and we soon found it

widened into a timber swamp, and in this we hid our boat, and then took

ourselves to what we deemed a secure place. We were, however, soon

astonished to find ourselves within a stone's throw of a rebel camp; but

there was now no help for us, and we were compelled to do the best we

could. The town, also, which was in full view, was full of rebel

soldiers, and refugees; and these, to add to our unpleasant feelings,

were constantly engaged in running off stuff and hiding it in the very

swamp in which our boat was concealed. There was, also, on our own side

of the river, a body of cavalry and infantry, some eight or nine hundred

altogether--and two pieces of artillery; but the latter were taken away

during the day.

Notwithstanding all these difficulties, we escaped detection, but were

obliged to abandon our boat, and take to the woods, which we did as soon

as it was dark. Our course was up the creek, and through the woods,

until we concluded we were far enough away to have no more to fear from

the rebel camp, when we struck out, and soon came upon a big road, where

we crossed the creek or rather swamp, on a big log; but only to find

ourselves on an island, and in the midst of a company of rebel infantry.

Men were passing, and repassing; and near us, were at least a dozen

brilliant camp fires. We at once threw ourselves flat on the ground, to

study what we should do; and while laying there, a company of cavalry

passed so near us, that we might have touched their horses "with a ten

foot pole."

"Now is our chance," I whispered to my negroes, as I heard the horses

splashing through the water, while some of the men were swearing. We

immediately bounded up, ran to the log, and crossed, immediately behind

the cavalry, and when we cleared the water, we sprang for the brush, and

were soon out of sight. I was sure that if we were seen by the infantry,

they would conclude that we belonged to the cavalry, and had dismounted

for some purpose; and if the cavalry observed us, they would take us for

infantry men, and pay no attention to us. However, I do not think they

saw us at all.

We now made a wider circuit around the town, and by dint of exertion and

much wading, accompanied by enormous fatigue, we reached the river bank

again, two miles below the place.

At the next plantation, we got a negro guide to pilot us across another

swamp that was very deep, and could only be crossed with difficulty in a

boat, as it was fully a mile wide and densely timbered all the way. He

landed us at an old road which was now out of use, and took us a mile or

so further to a ferry, where we stole another boat, and went on our way

rejoicing. We now traveled as fast as we could paddle our bateau, until

within about twenty-five miles of Wilmington, where we met with the

gun-boat Eolus, which we hailed and were taken on board.

About three hundred yards above where I got on board, she stopped and

captured four rebels who were in a bateau trying their best to escape

her, and who appeared to have been following us; but of that I am not

certain. I reported to the captain, whose name was Young, that I was

carrying dispatches for Gen. Sherman. He was delighted to hear from the

interior, and was ready to afford me any assistance in his power. The

men crowded around me, and for a few minutes I was besieged with

questions about the welfare of the army, and the nature and extent of

its achievements; and then hurrying me down into the hold, they quickly

had me rigged out in clean clothes--shirts, drawers and socks--and they

were hunting for pants, blouse and hat, when the "dinkey" was lowered to

the water, and the captain gave me a letter and told me my craft--which

was his own light boat--was ready. I was surprised when I found that the

Eolus had carried me fourteen miles up the river again in the little

while I had been aboard of her; but our boat ran very light, and we soon

regained the distance. As we had been fasting nearly two days, her

hospitality was well timed.

[Illustration: "The boys went in with a spirit which was irresistible,

and the Johnnies either fell before their unerring Spencer rifles, or

retreated in shameful disorder amid the cheers of our gallant

men."--=Page 390.=]

That afternoon we got to Wilmington, and leaving the "dinkey" with one

of the gun-boats, according to Capt. Young's order, and my negro crew at

the Provost Marshal's office, I went immediately to Gen. Terry's

headquarters, and delivered my dispatches. He received me very kindly,

and satisfied all my wants, and gave me a fresh supply of ammunition.

The same dispatch had already arrived a few hours before me by two of

Gen. Howard's scouts--a sergeant Amich, and a man whose name I do not

recollect. Their route was much shorter than mine, and they beat me

through half a day. They had made the trip in the disguise of rebel

officers, and met with no opposition, though they often met pickets, and

squads of men on the way.

My journey by the river, however, was an important one, as by that means

the practicability of ascending it with gun-boats was established. I was

fully able to report every obstruction on the stream, and informed the

commanders of the fleet that at Elizabeth was an immense raft, which the

rebels deemed sufficient to check the progress of the boats; but that

hope turned out a delusion. At some points, they had the river nearly

blocked up by trees, which they had chopped into it; but the inevitable

Yankee couldn't be stopped.

My work, however, was not done when I reached Wilmington, as I had yet

other dispatches to deliver to Gen. Schofield, at Newbern, or Kingston;

and as my orders were to proceed to the former place by sea, Gen. Dodge

gave me transportation on the Weybossett, a very large vessel loaded

with soldiers.

While off the coast, we experienced a severe storm, and though the waves

did not roll "mountains high," or anything like it, they did rise about

twenty feet, which was sufficient to make everything about the ship

crack, and to put me out of all fancy for sea traveling. Everybody on

board, of course, was sea-sick, except a few chaps who, I observed, were

plunging about in heavy boots, pea-jackets, and uncouth looking hats;

and who were chiefly employed in pulling, first at this rope, and then

at that, as though they might have imbibed too freely of old Bourbon.

The gunwales of the boat were lined all the time with men holding their

heads over the water, and acting very much as if they had all taken

rather freely of an emetic. For my part, I discovered that the most

comfortable position I could assume, was with my stomach across a water

cask.

The ship didn't appear to care a cent about the muss it was raising, but

kept on, like a wild mustang, when under the saddle for the first time;

every few minutes contriving to duck down so low that the wind would

dash the water over us, which did not greatly enhance our comfort. I

will not say that it made us more miserable, for that would be

impossible; a sea-sick man can defy all creation to add to his misery.

In due course of time we arrived at Morehead city, and from there I took

the cars to Newbern, and thence proceeded to Kingston, walking the last

ten miles of the way. I gave my message to General Scofield, and then,

after eating a meal, laid down for a nap; but I had not been asleep more

than three hours, when an orderly woke me up, saying the General wanted

me. I went immediately to him, and he said he desired to have me carry a

dispatch back to General Sherman across the country; and I took the

document and started.

At these headquarters, I met an old scout and friend, named McIntyre,

who went five or six miles with me--a man from the escort accompanying

us to take back the horse I rode. We parted, and they returned to the

camp, while I directed my steps through the woods toward Kenansville,

and the reader may be sure I had a long, hard tramp. My orders were to

go to Faison's Depot, on the railroad, between Wilmington and Goldsboro,

where General Scofield expected that General Sherman would be the next

Sunday; and it was a difficult job to get through, as the rebels had

the bridges and creek crossings all picketed. I had, sometimes, to go

four or five miles out of my way to get across streams. At one point,

about sixteen miles from Faison's, I wanted something to eat, and went

to a negro cabin some distance from the road to get it; and while I was

there, one of our soldiers went down the road on about the fastest

horse, ever I saw a soldier ride; and he was making it do its best,

while close behind him were about twenty Johnnies, in full pursuit, I

soon saw, however, that the Yankee was bound to be winner, for his horse

could out run every thing the Johnnies had. It was a pretty race, as

long as I could see it; and when the party was out of sight, I took to

the woods. Fortunately I did not travel far, till I discovered two

horses tied to a tree, and I at once made a fair "divide" with the

owner--I took one and left him the other; of course exercising my

privilege of first choice. At the first house I passed I borrowed a

saddle, and from there made good time, going at a run till I overtook

the General. He had left the depot, and was already several miles away;

and judging from the roar of artillery, was up to his eyes in a fight.

Following the direction of the heaviest sound, I kept on, and found the

General, as I expected, trying to force the Johnnies into a decent

submission to the laws of the country. He was on the march with the 15th

corps, when I overtook him, and delivered my dispatches.

As the enemy did not stand long, our army went into camp soon after my

arrival, and I had the privilege of a free night's rest--and let not the

reader suppose that I needed rocking in order to sleep.

On the following morning, the army was on the march early, and in a

little while began fighting with the enemy's cavalry. I was with the

advance, and we had a lively time, in which I got several good shots;

but of course the rebels had to fly. We kept on after the retreating foe

all day, skirmishing almost continually. Our route lay in the direction

of Smithfield, and in the evening, we came upon the enemy in

considerable force, and had a warm encounter, which resulted in the

capture from them of a strong line of breastworks, on Hannah's

creek--they being carried by a charge made by the 46th Ohio Infantry.

The boys went in with a spirit which was irresistible, and the Johnnies

either fell before their unerring Spencer rifles, or retreated in

shameful disorder, amid the cheers of our gallant men.

The army immediately went into camp, after this encounter, and began to

strengthen their position. Next morning, I went out and skirmished a

little, but on learning that a train was to start from Kingston, that

day, I returned to headquarters, and got permission from the General to

go home. As I had served about seven months over my time, my request was

readily granted; and he further furnished me with an order to the

Adjutant General, at Washington, who immediately through his assistant,

Colonel Beck, gave me another order, directing me to go to Columbus for

muster out; and my connection with the service, and my adventures,

terminated on the 1st day of April, 1865.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

PERSONAL--CONCLUSION.

My arduous duties, accompanied as was the peculiar branch of the service

to which I was attached, by far more than ever the ordinary exposure of

soldier life, together with the hardships of two long terms of

imprisonment in rebel slaughter pens, naturally impaired my health

greatly; though, fortunately, my maladies were only of a trifling

nature, and a few months at home leaves me once more able and willing to

respond to a second call to serve my country, should the necessity again

arise to marshall an army for its defense--which, I trust, may never be

the case. As for the war of the rebellion--that practically ended with

the surrender of Lee; and with it is settled the whole question of

secession. Henceforth, no man will be so idle as to dream of place and

power through disunion; and no man will dare to raise his hand against

this government, which is emphatically the great champion of freedom.

The Union of the States--that is to be perpetual; the last rays of the

setting sun, on the day that time ceases to be, must fall upon our

nation united, and able to cope with all mankind, and only succumbing to

the decrees of Heaven. Let malcontents reconcile themselves to this

fact. Patriotic heads have decreed that treason shall never again rear

its head; and patriots are ready to enforce this decree, as they have

already enforced it, at fearful cost.

I have ever endeavored to do my duty faithfully, and will never shrink

from meeting any man who is a foe to my country. I chose the occupation

of a scout, because it was suited to my nature, and because, while

preferring those duties, I was independent, and could suit my actions to

my will. While in the army directly, there was more restraint than

suited me; but my duties as a scout, though accompanied by cold,

hunger, and danger, were ever a pleasure. The more the risk accompanying

an expedition, the greater was my ambition to undertake it.

My reward has been rich. I gained the confidence of officers, and the

respect of comrades; and this was all I ever desired, and all I

received, except on two occasions. One of these was when Gen. Grant paid

me a hundred dollars for running the Muscle shoals; and the other was on

leaving the army, on the 21st of March, when Gen. Sherman gave me a like

sum for navigating the Cape Fear river to Wilmington.

Many of the occurrences I have related may be hard to believe; some may

even regard them as wholly fictitious; but those who have seen service

in this way, whether officer or soldier, will scarcely question them; as

there is scarcely a man who has been in the army but has experienced

more or less of adventure, equally startling and romantic.

I am not disposed to be vain, nor to parade the good opinions which

others have entertained regarding me, before the world; but for the

benefit of those who know nothing of my character for veracity, I beg

leave to append the following documentary evidence, relating to my

career:

"HEADQUARTERS 4TH O. V. CAVALRY,

"PAINT ROCK, ALA., DEC. 3, 1863.

"_To his Excellency David Tod, Governor of Ohio_:

"I have the honor to respectfully recommend to your notice for

promotion Corporal James Pike, of the 4th O. V. Cavalry, who

has been a member of the regiment since September, 1861. He

has, by strict attention to his duties, and by meritorious

conduct in various engagements, richly earned a commission. He

has also been engaged at different times in secret service,

thereby gaining a great deal of valuable information, which has

been highly beneficial to the Government.

"Respectfully yours,

"O. P. ROBIE,

"Lieut. Col. Commanding, 4th O. V. Cavalry."

"HEADQUARTERS 2D CAVALRY DIVISION,

"HUNTSVILLE, ALA., DEC. 4, 1863.

"Corporal Pike is well known to almost every commander in this

Department for the invaluable services he has rendered as a

scout and on secret service. He has been with me for some two

months, sometimes performing the most dangerous services. I

have always found him intelligent, energetic, zealous, and

possessed of a high sense of honor; and in every way calculated

to make an excellent officer. I hope, if consistent with the

Governor's views, this promotion will be made as a slight

acknowledgement of Corporal Pike's past services.

"GEORGE CROOK,

"Brig. Gen. commanding Division."

"HEADQUARTERS, DEP. CUMBERLAND,

"CHATTANOOGA, FEB. 15, 1864.

"Respectfully forwarded and recommended. I have known Corporal

Pike for a long time as an energetic, capable, and

conscientious man, and believe he would make a good officer.

"GEORGE H. THOMAS,

"Maj. Gen., U. S. V., Commanding."

"HEADQUARTERS OF THE ARMY IN THE FIELD,

"NASHVILLE, TENN., MARCH 14, 1864.

"The recommendation of Gen. Thomas is cordially concurred in by

me. Corporal Pike has proved himself brave and energetic, and I

believe would make an efficient commissioned officer.

"U. S. GRANT,

"Lieut. General."

General Sherman, who is a man of few words, and who is not readily

imposed upon while acting in a military capacity, gave me the following,

which is in his usual terse and comprehensive style:

"Trust the bearer.

"W. T. SHERMAN,

"Major General."

"March 8, 1865."

I did not enter the fearful contest, which raged so unremittingly for

four years, from any sectional prejudices. I fought no man because he

was a _Southerner_, but because he was a _rebel_. I hated secession, but

have ever loved and been ready to protect the loyal men of the South.

The war was not of my seeking, but was the inevitable result of the fact

that those who entertained a certain class of principles were unwilling

to submit to the arbitrament of reason. The secessionists forced the

contest upon the country, and I had but to choose the cause I would

espouse. In every conflict there is a right and a wrong side; and when

the war began I chose the right. When I enlisted, I fully resolved never

to abandon the struggle, if my life was spared, till the great wrong,

beneath which the country was suffering, should be righted; and if the

work of rendering every foot of my native country free, has not yet been

accomplished, I am ready to fight again.

When once it is determined to engage in a war, it is the part of mercy

and humanity to wage it with all the energy a belligerent possesses. The

more sanguinary the conflict, the shorter will be its duration, and the

sooner peace will be restored to bless the land. The more lives lost in

battle, the fewer the victims of camp life; and a sharp and decisive

campaign is far less wasting to an army than one of idleness and

inactivity.

Hoping that our country has endured its last great trial; that perpetual

peace and prosperity may bless its people, and that henceforth reason,

and not passion, may be the arbiter of all differences, I bid the

generous reader a kind

GOOD BY.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Pronounced, Tonc-oo-a.

[2] "Stop, friends."

[3] A short, heavy riding whip, with a bone or iron handle.

[4] This word means "good;" and by it I was known among all the friendly

Indians.

Transcriber's Notes

Obvious punctuation errors repaired.

Boldface text is denoted by =equal signs=.

Hyphen removed: break[-]neck (p. 88), day[-]light (pp. 372, 375),

grave[-]yard (p. 109), head[-]foremost (p. 197), quick[-]sand (p. 301),

side[-]walk (p. 191), south[-]western (p. 147).

Hyphen added: ferry-boat (p. 188), six-shooters (p. 127).

"Headquarters" appears in various spellings; they have been normalized

to a single non-hyphenated word.

Both "judgment" and "judgement" appear and have not been changed.

P.vii: "CAAPTER III" changed to "CHAPTER III".

Pp. 20, 172, 295: "Stanly" changed to "Stanley".

P. 23: "indescreet" changed to "indiscreet" (was indiscreet on such a

short acquaintance).

P. 33: "Camanche" changed to "Comanche" (a famous Comanche warrior).

P. 51: "guage" changed to "gauge" (gauge the cut to a certain depth).

P. 64: "Monterey" changed to "Monterrey" (the storming of Monterrey [in

Mexico, not California]).

P. 69: "necessay" changed to "necessary" (it became necessary to carry a

dispatch).

P. 77: "thoughout" changed to "throughout" (who is known throughout the

west).

P. 80: "forgotton" changed to "forgotten" (I have forgotten the names of

the others).

P. 84: "cemmenced" changed to "commenced" (commenced at once "raising

Cain").

P. 84: "aad" changed to "and" (and upon the heads of every friend).

P. 85: "mauraders" changed to "marauders" (a dozen or more marauders).

P. 104: "iminent" changed to "imminent" (a hand to hand encounter seemed

imminent).

P. 105-6: "to" added (which we were at no loss to decipher).

P. 123: "good a" changed to "a good" (from it I had a good view).

P. 127: "sowed" changed to "sewed" (The quill part is sewed).

P. 137: "General Sam. Housten" changed to "General Sam. Houston".

P. 140: Missing letter "d" restored: vilify him who accomplished them

P. 153: "pusuing" changed to "pursuing" (they were pursuing their

victim).

P. 166: "outfiit" changed to "outfit" (I went on shore for my outfit).

P. 168: "guantlet" changed to "gauntlet" (new uniforms and gauntlet

gloves).

P. 172: "fredom" changed to "freedom" (in a land of freedom).

P. 186: "arrersted" changed to "arrested" (Keaton and Robinson had been

arrested).

P. 187: "capitol" changed to "capital" (the surrender of his capital).

P. 190: "battallion" changed to "battalion" (it was guarded by Morgan's

battalion).

P. 193: "ceder" changed to "cedar" (in a dense cedar brake).

P. 193: "secresy" changed to "secrecy" (after exacting secrecy).

Pp. 194, 196, 268: "Murfreesburro" changed to "Murfreesboro".

P. 196: "Cononel" changed to "Colonel" (Colonel Kennett had quietly

sent).

Pp. 200, 271: "Mitchel" changed to "Mitchel".

P. 203: "bye-road" changed to "by-road" (I turned off on a by-road).

P. 205: "hav n't" changed to "haven't" (We haven't got the countersign).

P. 208: "equiped" changed to "equipped" (fully equipped with turpentine

and matches).

P. 235: "Lieutenat" changed to "Lieutenant" (Lieutenant Criss said that

he must go back).

P. 244: "Colonel Stearnes" changed to "Colonel Stearns".

P. 249: "maintainance" changed to "maintenance" (to battle for the

maintenance of the Government).

P. 250: "wriths" changed to "writhes" (as he writhes in pain).

P. 268: "mauraders" changed to "marauders" (the country was overrun with

marauders).

P. 194, 268: "Murfreesburro" changed to "Murfreesboro".

P. 271: "diguised" changed to "disguised" (I was disguised as a Texas

Ranger).

P. 281: Extra suffix "ed" removed (the breath was nearly knocked out of

me).

P. 295: "Knoxvile" changed to "Knoxville" (up the Tennessee to

Knoxville).

P. 295: "Genral" changed to "General" (General Wagner).

P. 298: "coniptions" changed to "conniptions" (the woman would take

conniptions).

P. 316: "stupenduous" changed to "stupendous" (followed by stupendous

results).

P. 321: "bnt" changed to "but" (but lo! in a short time).

P. 327: "Coporal" changed to "Corporal" (Corporal James Pike).

P. 330: "retalliation" changed to "retaliation" (the doctrine of

retaliation, in retaliation for guerrilla depredations).

P. 333: "battallion" changed to "battalion" (Young's whole battalion).

P. 338: "resistence" changed to "resistance" (the spirit of resistance

among them).

P. 354: "Searle's" changed to "Serle's" (finished their supper at

Serle's house).

P. 356: "croud" changed to "crowd" (raising a crowd to waylay the road).

P. 357: "Talbott" changed to "Talbot" (Chamberlain asked Talbot which

road they should take).

P. 364: "villian" changed to "villain" (Gen. Jones (oh! the villain,)).

P. 365: Missing "the" added (was just the thing we wanted).

P. 383: "hestation" changed to "hesitation" (we charged the place

without hesitation).

P. 386: "batteau" changed to "bateau" (as fast as we could paddle our

bateau).

P. 389: "descent" changed to "decent" (a decent submission to the laws

of the country).