Narrow Escapes. Is Thrown from a Horse. Has Pneumonia. Nearly Killed.
Self-possession. Almost Drowned. Eludes Angry Soldiers. Reflections.
During the Christmas holidays we went down to Oldham county to see our
relatives. While there, an event occurred, the recollection of which
brings up a chapter of NARROW ESCAPES hitherto untold, a few of which I
shall relate in their order.
When about thirteen years of age, a horse on which I was riding in a
slow walk and on a level road, fell, throwing me over its head and
coming over on top of me. It broke both bones of my left ankle and
several ribs, mashing in my left breast, which has ever since been much
depressed; it never developed like the other, and the lung on that side
is the one now chiefly affected. This accident occurred at
Ballardsville, on a public day, some three miles from home. I was taken
to the home of Dr. Swaine, our family physician, near which it
happened. He was absent, and a doctor from Shelby county was called. He
had a carpenter to make a box, reaching from my foot to my knee, and in
this he put my leg. The box was straight on the bottom, and as the
break was just in the hollow between the calf and the heel, anybody
that had any sense should have known that the broken part would settle
down level with the rest, and a bad job be the result. It was badly
set, and gave me much trouble for several years.
Following this, in successive winters, I had two severe spells of
pneumonia in that left lung, in both of which my life was despaired of.
One day I was hauling heavy barn sills. They were swung under the hind
axle, and the pole was tied by a chain back around the sill. The chain
caught on a solid rock in the road, and, as I had four strong horses,
and they all came to a dead pull, the chain broke; then the pole came
over with force enough to have mashed every bone in a man's body. The
horses happened to be on a straight pull, and the pole just brushed by
my right shoulder and side. Had it struck me, I might as well have been
struck by a cannon-ball. That ended my dragging logs without a block
under the front end of the pole.
While trading in Louisville, a grocery firm with which I dealt to some
extent had a clerk who was very dissipated at times. He was a desperate
character, and, when drinking, was very dangerous. One day I sold them
a lot of bacon, and this clerk, who almost had delirium tremens at the
time, made a mistake in weighing it. When I told him of it, he took it
as an accusation of intentional swindling. Instantly he came at me with
a large cheese knife, swearing vengeance and his eyes flashing fire.
There was nothing in reach with which to defend myself, and I could not
well get out of his way. I decided instantly on the only possible way
of escape. I stood perfectly still, did not move a hand, and looked him
steadily in the eye. When he got to me, he hesitated a moment, and the
uplifted hand with the huge knife dropped to his side. Not a word was
spoken, nor did my eye fall from his, and he turned and went back to
his work.
During the summer after I confessed the Saviour, quite a number of
hands were harvesting at my father-in-law's. On Saturday evening we
went to a large pond near by to bathe. It was made to supply a saw-mill
by throwing a large dam across a hollow. It covered, perhaps, an acre
of ground, and was twelve or fifteen feet deep in places. I never could
swim successfully, but a number of those present were good swimmers,
and there were many slabs on the pond that would float several men. I
told them I believed I could swim across the pond, and if I could not
there were too many good swimmers present to let me drown. I swam
across once, and, after resting a moment, started back. When I got
about the middle, I missed my stroke and went down. I thought nothing
of it at first, fully expecting that when I came to the top they would
save me. I came to the top, could hear them yelling like Indians, but
no one came to my rescue. I took breath and went down again. When I
came up the second time the result was the same. When I came up the
third time, and no one there to help me, I began to get a little uneasy
and considerably out of humor. I was becoming exhausted, and I knew
that I could not come to the top more than once or twice more. I tried
to go to the bottom, knowing that if I could touch bottom I could
spring to the surface without exertion. But I could not reach the
bottom. I came up the fourth time; still no one gave me assistance. By
summoning the entire stock of remaining strength, I came up the fifth
time. As I did so, a strong young man, Sparks by name, a good swimmer,
caught me by the left arm near the shoulder. He told me to take hold of
him, but this I refused to do. I thought this might endanger him, and
that if I would be perfectly passive he could manage me with no danger
to himself. But when I would not take hold of him, he let me go and
swam off and left me. Another man was within ten feet at the time,
coming to his assistance. When I went down this time, I was satisfied
they were going to let me drown. I felt that I could not come to the
top again, and could not reach the bottom. I thought if I could reach
the bottom I could crawl out by springing to the top now and then for
breath. But I could not touch bottom. I then began to calculate the
chances of their getting my body out in time to resuscitate it. I knew
it would not take long to cut the dam and drain the pond; but, when I
reflected that they had not the presence of mind to do anything, I lost
all hope in that direction. I saw no chance for me, and regarded the
end as come. The reflection that I had obeyed the gospel was intensely
joyous. During the whole time I had not strangled, knowing that it
would be fatal. A young man named Gipson--Sam Gipson--one of the owners
of the mill, was some eighty yards away, filing the saw. When Sparks
swam away and left me, Gipson saw they were going to let me drown, and
ran to my assistance. He got on one of the large slabs, and came in to
where I had gone down. I was still making some commotion in the water,
and, guessing about where I was, he pushed a plank down that came just
under my left arm. I knew what it was, and pressed it to my side. He
then bore on the other end and brought me to the surface. He held on
thus till others came and helped me upon the slab. As soon as I got
breath a few times I appeared to be all right, and they thought I was
only playing a trick on them; but in a few moments I tumbled over,
became black in the face, and suffered intensely for several hours.
On one occasion during the war I went into Floydsburg, on the morning
after Christmas day. There was a little squad of Confederates there,
belonging to the command of Col. Jessee, of New Castle, Ky. One of them
was a boy, named Hall, who went from that neighborhood. The rest were
strangers. I was introduced to the lieutenant in command, and had some
talk with him. The main street of the town runs east and west. About
the middle, the Brownsboro road comes in from the north, at a right
angle. This comes down a "branch" which crosses the main street. At the
east end of town the road descends into another hollow. Some of the
soldiers were inside, some sitting outside, of a blacksmith shop, and
some on their horses. I had walked near the east end, till I was just
on the ridge between the two hollows. I was standing at the door of
Col. Wilson, talking to his wife, when several companies of negroes,
stationed at La Grange under the command of white men, came marching
into town. They were a terror to the whole country. A little negro boy,
chopping wood just at the east edge of town, informed the commander,
who was riding in front, that the rebels were at the shop. Instantly
everything was quieted, and a stealthy march for the shop began. From
my position I could see both parties, and that the rebels were wholly
unsuspecting. While they were nothing to me, and I had but little
sympathy with them, for they were not in the regular service, I could
not stand and see them surprised and shot. I determined to warn them.
Mrs. Wilson tried to dissuade me, assuring me that it would be certain
death. I confess I could see it in no other light myself, yet I could
not decline. I walked down the street with an unconcerned air, about
forty yards in advance of the company. The lieutenant was sitting on
his horse sidewise, with his face turned from me, talking to a
Presbyterian preacher. I could see the eyes of the preacher over the
shoulders of the horse, but he was looking up into the face of the
other man, and I could catch the eye of neither. Finally, I had to stop
and make lively demonstrations in the face of the whole negro command.
When the attention of the Confederates was attracted, they endeavored
to escape by the Brownsboro road, and a charge from the other company
was instantly ordered. Each company opened fire on the other. I was on
the side of the street next to the Brownsboro road, and hence thrown
into all of the crossfire. I stood perfectly still till the entire
colored company passed by me. One man fell within a few feet of me, and
afterwards died. They had a running fight till they got out of hearing.
They caught young Hall, the only one I knew, and killed him.
Notwithstanding the agreeable disappointment at not finding myself
killed, I concluded that it might not be healthy to stay around there.
The town contained one of the most unprincipled white men that ever
went unhung. He was a sneak thief, and made it his business to get
Southern men into trouble. I saw him watching me all the time. I
concluded, therefore, that it would be better for me to leave town
before the soldiers got back. I had not gone more than a mile when they
returned, and threatened to burn the town if I was not produced. They
were watching me from the first, and the only thing that saved me was
they concluded that they could attend to me after they got through with
the rebels. They were told that I had left town, and were put on the
wrong road in search of me. I was then notified, and my holiday visit
terminated suddenly.
When I think now of the many narrow escapes from death before I was a
child of God, a number of which are not recorded, my heart overflows
with gratitude for the kind Providence that spared me till I knew the
way of life and had the precious promises of God. An ungodly man may be
brave, and face death without a tremor, but only a child of God can
face certain death as it comes on apace in the stillness of the sick
chamber, and when the body is wasted with disease, in perfect composure
and even inexpressible joy.