HOW TO ROAST A CHICKEN--A GOOD SQUARE MEAL ONCE MORE--ON THE TRAMP
AGAIN--WE MEET A DARKEY WHO FURNISHES US SUPPER AND CHICKENS FROM HIS
MASTER'S HEN COOP--SURPRISED BY TWO WHITE MEN WHILE EATING
BREAKFAST--PASSING THROUGH WALHALLA--AVOIDING SOME CAVALRY.
When we made camp on this, the twelfth day of my tramp, it was back of a
plantation, in a large woods, near a spring. We always made our camp near
good water, if possible. Here I showed the captain how to cook a chicken;
and for the benefit of camping parties I give the receipt here, which, if
followed, will, I assure them, afford as fine a dinner as can be made from
a chicken.
Bending over a small sappling about two inches through at the butt, I
fastened the top to the roots of a tree, and then trimmed off the
branches. From the centre of the bow thus formed, I hung the chicken by
means of a limb with a hook on the lower end, so that the chicken nearly
reached the ground. Then building a fire in a circle around the fowl, with
dry twigs and bark, as a blacksmith would to heat a wagon tire, I soon had
a chicken as finely browned as ever was cooked in an oven. I salted it as
it roasted and within an hour I ate the first satisfactory meal I had
eaten in eleven days, roast chicken and corn bread, with a tin cup full of
cold water. After a good sleep which lasted until nearly dark, I felt like
a new man, and only for my swollen and inflamed feet and legs, would have
felt fit to endure anything.
We started out at dark, having made a supper of the remains of the chicken
and some corn bread, and, before daylight had made twenty miles, though my
legs kept getting worse, if possible, and pained me so that at times I
could scarcely keep from crying out in my agony.
Captain Alban would not leave me, and encouraged me to renewed efforts
when I was almost fainting from pain.
It was Saturday night that I met Alban, and on Monday we ate the last of
our chickens and corn bread, and with full stomachs, but empty haversacks,
we started out at dark again. About nine o'clock, as we were going along
through a piece of woods, we suddenly came upon a negro with a large
wooden trunk on his head. He was frightened at first but after finding out
that we were Yankees, he was about the most delighted darkey I ever saw. I
told him I would give him twenty dollars if he would get me five chickens,
and corn bread enough to eat with them. This he promised to do, and told
us to wait there until he toted the trunk over to his old grannies, and
when he came back he would whistle, to let us know it was him, and when
we answered the whistle, he would take us to the house and give us some
supper. He was soon back and we went with him to the edge of the woods,
near the shanty, when he again left us to make sure that everything was
all right. It was not long before we again heard the low, musical whistle,
which I answered, and he came up with two other negroes and took us to a
cabin, where a good fire was burning and an old black woman was cooking
some bacon and corn bread, or hoe cake, as they call it. While auntie was
getting our supper prepared, the three men went out to see about the
chickens.
It was not long before they were back, and had five nice fat fowl, which
they proceeded at once to dress for us, and by the time we had finished
our supper, which we greatly relished, the fowl were ready, the feathers
burned, and the floor carefully swept, so that every trace of the
transaction was removed. I had a silver quarter in my pocket which I gave
to aunty, and which she received with profuse expressions of joy and
gratitude. We staid with them until eleven o'clock, and although we only
walked eleven miles after that, I was completely used up the next morning
when we went into camp again. I cooked three of the chickens that day, and
we eat one for dinner and one for supper.
That night we walked twenty miles on the railroad, crossing four long iron
covered bridges, and went into camp in a large piece of woods some
distance back from the railroad, as daylight again warned us to seek
shelter.
About eight o'clock we made a fire and were roasting our last chicken,
making our breakfast in the meantime, on the one left from the night
before. I had laid aside my overcoat, and was therefore in the full dress
of a cavalry lieutenant, shoulder straps and all, and we were chatting
over our breakfast, when I heard the brush crackle close by, and looking
up we saw two white men within a few rods of us; one dressed in the
homespun usually worn by citizens in the south, and the other wearing the
uniform of a Confederate soldier.
I just had time to say to Alban, they are unarmed and I can handle one if
you can the other, when they came up to where we were sitting. They both
seemed a little embarrassed, and the situation was slightly embarrassing
to us.
After the usual salutation, the elder of the two said, somewhat
apologetically: "We saw the smoke out here, and thought some one had built
a fire while possum hunting last night, and was afraid it might get into
our fence, which is just through yonder thicket."
We assured him that we would put the fire out carefully when we went away,
which we would do as soon as our chicken was done. I was well aware that
they must know we were Yankees, and feared that our tramp was over for the
present, but anything was better than suspense, and rising to my feet I
said to the old man who stood near me: "Well, sir, I suppose you know
that we are Yankees; now, what do you propose to do with us?"
"Yes," said he, "I know you are Yankees, but you need have no fear of us,
we are Union men."
"How is it, then, that this young man wears the Confederate uniform?"
"Well, sir, to save being conscripted and sent to the field, he joined a
company of home guard, who are nearly all Union men, and by doing so is
kept about here."
I well knew he was telling the truth, and I grasped his hand and shook it
heartily, and while we all sat around the fire, I told them of our
imprisonment and escape, and of our long tramp for freedom. They told us
their names were John Addis and William Addis, father and son, and that
they would do anything they could to assist us.
They went to the house and had some wheat biscuit baked, and some sweet
potatoes roasted for us, the young man promising that if his mother would
consent, he would go with us to our lines; but she was so fearful that he
would be captured and shot as a deserter, that she would not listen to the
proposition for a moment, but sent by him a hearty God-speed to us.
Mr. Addis directed us to his brother in Towns County, Georgia, and said
that he had heard, that the Union forces were in that county a few days
before, and it would be perfectly safe for us to travel in the day time,
passing ourselves for Confederate soldiers on furloughs.
He said that at Walhalla, thirteen miles ahead, they were very vigilant,
and at Tunnel Hill, (nineteen miles) there was a picket station, at a gap
in the mountain, which it would be necessary for us to flank. He gave us
the name of the captain of a company of youths who guarded this pass,
which I carefully noted, and instructed us as well as he could, how to get
around this gap. The young man went with us about two miles, to get us
past the depot without being noticed, and then bade us good bye, saying
that he would like to accompany us north if he could. We started on,
feeling much encouraged, expecting to get beyond the picket at Tunnel Hill
before daylight. But it soon commenced raining fearfully, and the walking
was slippery, which made it intensely painful to my poor inflamed limbs,
and chafed the skin off my stockingless feet, as they slipped up and down
in legless boots.
I stood it as long as I could, but at twelve o'clock I was obliged to give
up, and drenched to the skin, we lay down under a pine tree beside the
road, and covering ourselves with a wet blanket, with my overcoat for a
bed, and the rain beating in our faces, we slept the sound refreshing
sleep of tired soldiers. We awoke just before daylight, wet, cold and
stiff, and started on towards Walhalla, which was about a mile ahead. I
thought the one street that passed through that little hamlet, was the
longest I ever saw. It was daylight when we entered the town, and the
early risers were stirring, but they were all negroes. We walked rapidly,
but it seemed as though we would never get through the village and gain
the woods beyond. And finally seeing some covered wagons just at the
further edge of the town, with the owners cooking their breakfast, we
concluded to make a flank movement to the right, as though we were going
to work in the woods. We gained the woods in safety, and crossing the
road, went in a considerable distance, and sat down on a fallen tree, ate
our breakfast and rested for about an hour.
As it was still raining and very cloudy, we concluded to go on, and try
and flank the picket post at Tunnel Hill before night, thinking they would
not be as watchful during the day. We kept in sight of the road, and
hearing some mounted men coming, we hid until they passed. We could
plainly hear them talking, and concluded that it was the relief, going up
to change the guard. Going on, we kept the road in sight, until we came to
a plantation, which we thought best to go around, keeping in the edge of
the woods that skirted it. It was a long detour, and when we tried to come
out on the road again, we could not find it. There was a path in the
woods, leading up quite a steep looking hill. It seemed to be well
traveled, and thinking we could go over this hill and probably come out on
the road, we followed this path in a circuitous way for nearly a mile,
when we came to the top of a ridge, that seemed about ten rods wide, and
densely covered with large timber. Looking down on either side, we could
see through the clouds and fog, a valley of wooded land on one side, and
clear land on the other. We walked along this ridge all day, and as the
sun was completely obscured, we could not tell in what direction we were
moving. We examined the moss on the trees, but sometimes it would be on
one side, and then on the other. About five o'clock, our path led down the
mountain, and in half an hour more, we were surprised to find, that
although we had followed the path all day, we had come out just where we
went up in the morning. We learned after, that this was Cheat mountain,
and is a high ridge shaped like a bowl, with a valley in the center, and
we had walked around the crest all day, making nearly ten miles. It was
now about sundown, and reconnoitering in different directions, we finally
found the road again, and laying down in some weeds, waited for darkness.