women. It had snowed two or three inches the night before, and during
the day the sun had come out warm, and in the woods a man could be
tracked. It seems that the rebel captain had gone back and got help
to pursue my trail, and when I stopped at the log cabin and asked for
something to eat they gave me a lunch and told me that the captain’s
place was not more than six or seven miles from where I was, and they
told me that I had better go to a barn which was back in the lot just
a short distance from the house and conceal myself in a large quantity
of straw that was in the barn. This barn was built of logs. So I went
and crawled down in the northeast corner, clear down to the bottom.
Now I had heard of crawling into a hole and drawing the hole in after
you, so I tried to fill the hole up after me the best I could, and
none too soon either, before there came three mounted men, one the
captain. They tried to make these two women tell where I had gone.
These women had husbands in our army at Knoxville, Tennessee, and I
think these Union women would have died before they would have revealed
my whereabouts. Soon these men came to the barn, looked all through
it, and it seemed as though they would dig in the corner where I was
and find me, but they went away without finding me, and again tried to
find out for certain from these women whether they had seen me, for
they had tracked me through the timber to the clearing, but when they
came to the clearing the snow was gone. These rebels soon went back
in the direction that I had come, and I went to the house and again
started on my way, it now being dark, to see if I could not succeed
in getting across this mountain. It did seem as though this was the
hardest part of my journey, for after traveling all night until nearly
morning, I lost a good share of the time from the mountain trail. What
was my surprise to find myself again in the hands of a rebel guerilla.
I had come around in front of a newly constructed log building, and
just as I did so I saw a man in full rebel uniform seated on an old
box mending a pair of boots. He perceived what a plight I was in for
dress, and as he heard me talk he began to ask me a good many questions
in regard to where I was from, and he told me about his being in the
rebel army and deserting, and about his parents being good Union
people. After he had talked for some time I really thought he was a
good Union man, and told him of my escape from prison. Then I told
him where I was from, and that my birth place was in Erie county,
Pennsylvania. After we had talked some little time he wanted to know if
I ever worked at shoemaking. I told him that I had, and that my father
worked at the trade as long as I could remember. So he had me mend up
his boots, which I did, thinking that his wife would soon be home and
get something to eat. Now this was one of the worst sights for poverty
that I had seen in all my travels, for it did not seem as though this
man had five pounds of corn meal in this newly built hut. In one end
there was a very rudely constructed fireplace, and I failed to find
anything inside of the place to answer for a bed, except some old rags
and a little straw in one corner. The day was nearly half gone when I
had finished mending his boots, and he seemed to be very well pleased,
when I told him that it did not seem as though his wife would be back
very soon, of whom he had spoken. He had told me that as soon as she
came she would get something for us to eat, but I still insisted on
going. So I started to go, and just as soon as I made away he reached
behind the door and got out a double-barreled shot gun and brought it
to bear on me. He told me to stop or he would have to shoot. I thought
how soon my friend had turned to a foe. I found that I was again in the
hands of an enemy. As soon as I went back to him he called very loudly
for his mother to come up to his place. It seemed that his folks lived
about a hundred yards or more away, just across the woods. Soon his
poor old mother came running up to the house and asked him what was
the matter. He wanted her to stay with the children while he went away
with me. Then she looked at me and wanted to know where he was going.
He told her that I was a Yankee, right from Pennsylvania and that he
was obliged to take me and turn me over to the home guards. He would
shoot or hang me without any trial whatever. Then she told him that
he had deserted from the Confederate army himself and would be just
as liable to arrest as I was, but he didn’t seem to care how much she
talked to him. Oh, so selfish was he to accomplish his end! He wanted
his mother to stay with the two children while he went away with me.
Then his mother wanted to know who I was and I told her all I had done
for her son, and how I had waited after mending his boots, and how he
was inclined to want to shoot me for the kind act I had shown him.
“Well, mother,” he said, “will you stay here with the children until I
come back?” “No sir, I will not do it, nor will I ever do anything for
you if you do not let this poor starving creature go,” she said. “No,
mother, I could not do it, but if you will take the children home with
you I will go down and let father see my prisoner, so come along,” and
he made me walk right in front of his double-barreled shot gun, and was
very careful to tell me if I undertook to run that he would have to
shoot me. In this way we went to a corn field, about a half mile from
his father’s place, and here we found about eight or ten women and men
husking corn. Advancing up to his father this “William,” as they called
him, said: “Father, here is a real Yankee, right from Pennsylvania.”
“What part of Pennsylvania are you from?” asked the father. I told
him from Erie county. “Well,” he said, “my boy here was born in that
state, in Crawford county. Well, how do you do? I am very glad to see
you. William, what have you got that gun for?” “Why, father, don’t you
know that I took a hard oath to serve my country?” “Yes, you took an
oath, my poor boy, but deserted the Southern service, knowing that your
poor father was a Northern Union man. Yes, yes, you took a wonderful
oath, but, William, you must let this man go.” All the talk the poor
old man could say to his son was of no avail, and now his kind brother
plead with him. This boy was only seventeen years old. He had lost his
right arm above the elbow. Then came, last of all, his sisters, and if
ever I have heard pleading for one’s life it seemed that these poor
souls did it. It seemed that all this man’s aim was to try his firearms
on me, for after a long talk with his young brother and sisters, the
brother came to me and told me that the only way that William would
release me was for me to start off a little distance and then run. He
said William would probably shoot at me and that he was afraid it would
mean death to me very soon. The brother and his two sisters came back
shortly, and the former told me what he had concluded to do. He allowed
that he would just get off a short distance and then I must get up and
run. Then William would turn and shoot at me, and I must run all the
faster. He started and walked off about ten rods and I saw that he did
not intend to go any further. So I arose as quickly as possible from
a shock of corn I had been husking and started for a very steep bluff
which was almost straight down, and it did seem as though I fairly flew
down this hill so rapid was my flight. Dear reader, if you was never
compelled to flee from a foe with a gun and then to be shot at, you
can imagine the plight I was in. Now I want to say right here that in
eternity I expect to meet this same man, and I don’t want him to come
up before me and say: “You wrote a tale, away back there, against me
that you scattered broadcast which was untrue.”
Now if I never complete this tale of my sad life, or if I do, I just
ask God to direct my pen that I might not purposely insert one word
that is not true, to the best of my knowledge. I do praise God from the
depth of my heart that my faith is in Him.
As I was saying, I ran down this steep bluff, and just before I reached
the foot of it there came the discharge of my pursuer’s gun, and a rain
of buckshot flew all around me. I was very thankful that they did not
hit me. William, as they called him, told me that he just fired at me
so as to clear himself from the hands of the rebels. It did seem as
though he should have given me some food before putting me up for a
target. His deceiving me while fixing his footwear seems to convince
me all the more that he meant to do me harm. After firing the shot gun
at me he buried his brother’s side arms, which consisted of a large
horse pistol, which he carried with him. After firing two shots from
the shotgun, he still continued to follow me for at least a mile and a
half, until I hid in a thick foliage of laurel brush. He came within
twenty yards of my concealment, calling for me to show up and it would
be all right. I could not believe him, for I had lost all confidence in
him.
Now that night about nine o’clock I had to pass this same man’s house.
I found him singing and rocking his little “Jeff”—his boy whom he told
me he had named after Jefferson Davis. Oh, how the pangs of hunger
commenced to tell on me at this time!
Right here I would like to say that during the conversation I had with
the younger brother, who had lost one of his arms, he told me how he
had been taken prisoner near Big Round Top at Gettysburg, Pennsylvania,
and of being in the care of men belonging to the Fifth Corps, and how
well he had been cared for. He told me that his arm was amputated at
this place.
As I was saying, the traitor was singing and rocking his little “Jeff”
as I passed by his place. I remember that he told me about his brother
living about a mile ahead on the mountain trail. So when I came there
I thought I would stop and let myself be known, but I did not do so. I
went to a cool spring house near by and found there some nice milk and
a piece of corn bread which I was very thankful to take possession of.
After this I started along, and instead of keeping the mountain trail
I took a cow trail that led far up on the mountain. It seemed that I
never, in all of my journey, traveled harder to reach our lines or to
get into the state of Tennessee than I did this night.
After traveling all night, until it broke day, I found myself on one of
the highest pinnacles of this mountain, and, as I supposed, was looking
down into Tennessee, for at a distance I could see a log house, so in
this direction I made my course. After some traveling I came to the
house, and what was my surprise to find myself back to the very house
that I had stopped at and drank the milk. This place proved to belong
to the father-in-law of the man who had done the shooting at me the day
before. So I thought I could do no better than to stop, for at this
time I had become very hungry. So I went in, and as I was seated at the
table talking and telling of what had happened to me the day before,
we heard the discharge of a gun several times, and these good people
told me that the man who had betrayed me told them that he had wounded
me, and intended to capture me the next day, and had started very early
that morning to complete his work. While still eating, we could hear
the discharge of his gun every little while. It made these people
laugh to know that I was sitting at their table while my pursuer was
on those high bluffs, pretending to be hunting to death that runaway
Yankee.
Now, after I had finished eating I started once more to follow the
mountain trail, as far as I dared to, and then laid by until night set
in, for I had not traveled very much by day.
After bidding these kind friends good bye I started, hoping to get
across these mountains without any very serious trouble. I had got
where the mountain began to descend, when I began to have hopes that I
would soon arrive where I could be safe in our lines.
Oh, how I longed to be at my own father’s fireside! These thoughts
would, in my state of mind, cheer me up. After laying by until night
set in I again started down this mountain side. The distance, I think
I had been told, down this rugged Iron and Doe mountain was about
eight miles. About one or two o’clock I found myself at the foot of
the mountain and about a mile from it. I came to quite a respectable
looking farm house and barn. Here I stopped and was told that I was
now within the lines of Tennessee. This caused me to believe that my
troubles were nearly at an end. But, alas! they were not.
I will soon tell you, dear reader, what occurred to me when I went to
this house. They received me very kindly and after eating something
they had me go to the barn and there remain until about noon. When
the man wanted to know if I did not want to go to a corn husking bee,
I told him that I did not dare to. He insisted on it so hard and my
thinking that getting into Tennessee meant I was practically into our
lines, or at least into a Union state, I made myself quite free, after
some persuasion, to go with him. As soon as we arrived at the place,
about two miles away, we found a great company of people there. They
seemed to come and consult with my friend a good deal, and when supper
was announced I told my friend that I must leave, for there were at
least two rebels there who were home from the Southern army, and who
seemed to be very inquisitive as to where I had come from. So I started
back to my friend’s place and he stayed to see what he could learn in
regard to what they intended to do. He came home about seven o’clock
and came to the barn and called to me, but I was concealed in the straw
in the barn loft and did not answer, for the reason that he told me
not to reply to any one until I was sure that it was him. As soon as I
knew it was him I came down and he told me that he had overheard the
two rebels talking together and that they were coming to his place to
capture me. He had a small lunch for me and I found to my sorrow that
my troubles were not ended.
From this place I traveled all that night and so on until some days
had passed, when I came at last to a northern range of the mountains.
Now in Tennessee there are a great many ranges of mountains, one range
after another. Well, I stopped at this man’s place and found a very
warm friend and a good whole-souled Union man.
If I have not forgotten, it was about three days from the time I left
the barn, of which I have spoken. The man’s name was John Robertson,
and it appeared that he had a niece whom he told me he desired to send
home across the mountains, over into what is called Carter county,
Tennessee. Beyond Carter lay Knoxville, which I had been nearly forty
days trying to reach. In the morning, in my sad condition of dress, I
started across this mountain, with the young lady to guide me. On the
way we sang national songs, and for about nine miles we spent the time
very pleasantly. Long before night we came to the settlement on the
other side of the mountain. This place is now called Carter county,
Tennessee. Here at the first place we came to were Anderson’s two or
three men in blue clothes. This young lady had not explained that there
were eighteen of our soldiers cut off from our army at Knoxville, and
when I saw them standing in front of the house I was about to flee to
the mountains again, but the young lady just insisted that they were
Union soldiers. So I went up to the house and was very kindly received,
and here I must say I had one of the greatest experiences that I ever
had in all my life. The next day after my arrival the Anderson people
thought they would clean me up somewhat. So they had me take off my
old drawers and shirt and placed on me some old twilled pants and a
shirt, and I was set to work building a fire to clean and scald the
old clothes that I had taken off. I say clothes—nothing but a part
of a pair of drawers and a shirt that had seen more than six months’
service. Then talk of pleasure in a soldier’s life!
When I had just fairly got the water and the fire agoing there came up
the main road, just a few rods away, the sound of many horsemen and
the clatter of hoofs and a motion from the house for me to flee in the
direction of the mountains. I started, not knowing whether to ever
come back or not. I ran about a mile along the foot of the mountains,
when I came to a man by the name of Sampson Robertson. I found that he
was one of our men, but had been conscripted into the rebel service.
He never went into the Southern army, but skulked for a living among
his friends. He told me for the first time that this dash of rebels
numbered over one hundred men, and that they had come over the mountain
from the west, from Sullivan county, to capture our eighteen Union
scouts, and that they intended to intercept them, for these rebels had
already robbed the poor people of everything, even their bedding and
household goods, and had killed an old man some sixty-two years old and
burned the grist mill. If ever I wanted to help a handful of our poor
soldiers, cut off from our army, it was now. So I went along to where
I fell in with about seventeen of our men and boys, all told, and nine
of the very best of these men allowed me to go along with them upon
a bluff overlooking a run called Stony Creek, traveling down through
the valley. This run was very deep and at least sixty yards across,
and there was a small foot bridge, made of hewn timber, on small
abutments. Just opposite this foot bridge there was a very large bluff
or mountain, some three hundred feet high, and on this high elevated
ridge these nine scouts had located themselves. I had the honor of
being one to help in the little battle that was soon to come off. I had
one of the old hero’s muskets. Now we could see the Johnnies coming.
They had divided their force of one hundred men and were advancing
right up to this foot bridge and began to cross it, when our boys
opened fire on them from five shooting carbines. They told me to load
the old musket well with buckshot and let them have it. Well, to tell
the truth, I took too much powder from an old powder horn, for I put in
nearly a handful, and also about a handful of buckshot. When this gun
did go it would kick right smart, I reckoned, but still kept on loading
and firing it, to the merriment of the other boys. But, oh, such fun!
In a short time the rebels turned back and went away faster than they
came. The Union boys, some of them, went on the mountain trail as the
rebels were on their way back, and while they were leading or riding
their horse the Union boys opened fire on them and nearly stampeded the
whole force. There were only six or seven of our boys. We succeeded in
escaping while they were trying to capture us. We had it from their
own men that there were seven, I think, wounded and two killed. If I am
not mistaken, this is what the rebels reported. They could not reach us
from where they were.
Now after this great share in the battle I went back to the place that
I had left, and stayed with a woman by the name of Urie Low. At this
place I stayed for some four or five days. I made while here, I think,
three pairs of shoes out of almost raw hide, working the hide just long
enough to get the hair off and left them tan color.
So ends my first introduction into Carter county, Tennessee.
After this I stayed at Mrs. Low’s place for some time. Then I went
to Lieutenant Housley’s, one of our men, and a commander among the
Union boys. I went to Housley’s place to stay, and would go to a
mountain cave to sleep nights, for it was very dangerous to stay at the
dwellings any more.
There was one thing that happened soon after I went over to Lieutenant
Housley’s place. I was requested to stay at a place called Sampson
Robertson’s. All the boys had gone to the cave and I stayed at the
house a short time to finish a pair of shoes for one of Mr. Robertson’s
daughters. I had just got seated near the fireplace and was telling
some of the exciting times I had in making my escape. Time passed along
very pleasantly, when there came a stern command from the door for the
women to clear away from the hearth of the fireplace so they could
end that Yankee talk. If ever I felt afraid in all my life I did just
now, and if I ever needed help it was now. The good woman had me sit
clear down on the hearth, and if ever I felt myself under petticoat
government or protection it was now. Here I sat while the daughter of
Mr. Robertson entertained these two rebels and gave them apple-jack,
or what was sometimes called apple brandy. The women got a large amount
of walnuts and butternuts for them to crack, and for over two long
hours I sat on the hearth and took the cursing of those two rebels. I
can tell you if I ever had to be placed in the same position again I
would say let me stand before the belching cannon and the rattle of
small arms rather than to be cooped up in a log hut on the stone hearth
surrounded by the breastworks of brave women!
How often have I thought of this place in my life and what a delicate
position it was. Well, it seemed as though the time had passed the
slowest it ever did in all my life. While these two rebels began to be
fired up with drink they began to make threats about what they would
soon do to the Yankee, and I began to whisper to the women to let me
slip out and make one dash by those two blood thirsty rebels. There
was but one door and they told me to sit very quiet. Soon the wife of
Lieutenant Housley’s father-in-law slipped by those two rebels and went
over a mile and a half to the cave where the Union boys were staying,
and very soon there came dashing down from the mountain cave the brave
Lieutenant Housley and the husband of this brave and heroic woman. She
had to climb over one hundred and fifty feet, where the edges of rocks
were not more than three feet in width, and on a very dark night at
that.
Once more I had great reason to thank God and these kind ladies for
saving me from blood thirsty villains.
In about an hour there was a stern command for those rebels to
surrender, and they arose to their feet and ran, but soon the
lieutenant stopped them with a shot or two, wounding one of them in the
arm. The two Union men made the two rebels take the oath of allegiance
to our government and then they were allowed to go.
[Illustration]
Now, just as soon as I found that our boys had arrived it made me glad
to know that I was able to get out of such a cramped position. Before
this I never had witnessed such a close place, let alone being in it. I
can say that I was very thankful for my deliverance from these drunken
rebels.
After they were disposed of the lieutenant told me that I had better
go to the cave with them, and after this I was careful when night came
on to find my way to where I was more safe than at the houses in this
neighborhood.
I would like to tell you about the cave we had to stay in. I must
say it was a most wonderful sight. The trail commenced at the foot
of the bluff, or mountain, and wound its way up the side for nearly
three-fourths of a mile and followed along the west side of a large
range of mountains. Very close, or right under this trail, there was
a large cataract, and for over one hundred and fifty feet above this
cataract was the mouth of the cave, concealed by a large amount of
foliage, such as laurel and sage bush. It would be almost impossible
for a stranger to find this cave. After passing into this cave it was
very beautiful, for far up through the crevices of the rocks came the
light of the sun. This cave was over one hundred feet in length, and it
seemed to be of different widths, varying from thirty to forty feet. On
either side were rude couches where our poor boys caught their short
naps, and in the middle, on the rock bottom, there was a warm fire,
which was perfectly concealed from observation below, and the smoke
went a long ways up among the mountain’s high cliffs. This reminds me
of hiding in the cliffs of the rocks.
Oh, I am so thankful that I have learned to hide in the Cliffs of the
Rock of our salvation through Jesus Christ!
Well, now, since I have explained the cave, I must tell you that my
stay in Carter county must have an end. So the report came that
the rebel army had left Sullivan Station. This was on the railroad.
They had retreated way beyond the lead mines and salt works. The
time had come for us—myself and all of these Union boys—to leave for
Knoxville, so we all started in the direction of the mountain trail.
The night before we started the people all met at the house of one of
the Union boys, and it was as sad a parting as I ever want to witness
in my misspent life. I saw here mothers, fathers and sisters parting
with each other, probably never to meet again. Oh, such a sad sight!
Finally my time came to bid farewell to friends. It seemed in so short
a time, only about three weeks, I had gained such an attachment with
these people that it seemed as though I was parting with near and dear
friends of longer acquaintance. When I came to Lieutenant Housley’s
family it seemed I had to pass them by, for I had been at their table
and had been treated very well by them. This is an incident that I
will speak of later. Now when I came to bid Angeline, the daughter of
Lieutenant Housley, good bye I could not do so without showing more
than common feeling, for without thought I had learned to have a great
deal of affection for this girl. When we left all these good people
we did not think we would ever return—at least I never thought that I
would see any of them again in this world of sin.