That evening I donned my disguise as a citizen, and advanced, as before,
to go through their lines as an alien. I rode as before as far as my
judgment would permit to prevent the capture of my escort, when I took
it afoot to carry out the program first suggested. I walked about four
miles and day was breaking. As two nights previous, the country
indicated depredations by fires. When I again, as the night before, saw
obstructions in front of me, I walked within twenty-five or thirty paces
up to it when I was commanded to halt and challenged as to who comes
there, their muskets pointing at me. I said, "Me no speaky English, je
parle Francais." Where are you going? Me no stand English. They made me
a sign to sit down by the side of the obstructive fence, after having
let me cross their barricade. About fifteen minutes later an officer
with the relief guard came up. Who's that you got there? How did he get
here? They answered I walked up. He is a foreigner and can't speak our
language. Turning to me he said, where are you going? "Je ne
comprenspas, je parle francais." So he made me signs to following him,
which I did. He conducted me to a large camp fire where I saw several
men guarding others and recognized them to be Confederates. This was the
first time I felt my danger; I was afraid that there might be some among
the prisoners that might have seen me before and might recognize me.
However my fears were without cause as I did not know any of them. About
eight o'clock a. m., the Provost Marshall General came around and
addressed himself to me. Who are you, said he. As before, I said je
parle francais. Oh, you are a Frenchman. Well, I will get some one that
can speak to you. He ordered one of the guards to go to a Canadian
Company and ask the Captain to send him a man that could speak French
and English. Presently a young soldier presented himself. The Provost
took him aside and I pretended not to notice them. They stepped to
within a few paces of me; when I heard the Provost say to him, Pump him.
I thought, He will be welcome to all he will get out of me. He stepped
up to me and talked to me in French. I appeared to be so glad to meet
one I could talk to, that I did not give him an opportunity to ask me a
single question. I told him how I came here in the fall of 1859, pulling
out my passport which he scrutinized and handed over to the Provost,
who in turn looked at the same. I told him that I made a mistake coming
here, that the people made it very unpleasant to me because I would not
enlist; that I had to leave Georgia, and I am now on my way to New
Orleans, which I heard the port was open so as to see the French consul
to assist me back to France; that I am tired of this land where people
murder each other. During all of our conversation the Provost said, What
does he say. My interlocutor explained and then they all would laugh.
Finally I said that I was hungry, that I had had nothing to eat in 24
hours. So the Provost said, Boys, can you fix up something for him among
you, and they all contributed some from their rations and filled my
haversack full of substantial food, and besides contributed $10.00 in
money. I thanked them and started off, after being told that I could go,
but as I was apparently green I asked my questioner how far I was from
New Orleans and if there were any more places where I might be delayed,
when the Provost intervened with his, What did he say? Which after being
explained to him, he said, I had better give him a pass, they might take
him up on the other end of the line, and so he wrote on a slip of paper,
"Pass the bearer through the line," and signed his name in such
chirography that I could not read it. I arrived into Montgomery late
that afternoon, and reported, as per previous arrangement with Col. Paul
to Judge Pollard, whose daughter he married, and told that family how
the boys were getting along. Judge Pollard was a stately old gentleman
of great prominence in that section of the country. He received me in
his large library and we had quite a long conversation over the
situation. I told him that I was directed to him with the understanding
that he would provide me with a horse so that I might continue my
journey to Selma. He shook his head and said I'll see what can be done,
but I don't believe there is a horse to be got within ten miles of here;
the Yankees stole every horse and mule they could lay their hands on,
and sure enough he was unable to furnish me with an animal, but thought
I might, by making a long detour beyond the flanks of the enemy's
columns, be able to proceed. That morning one of the ladies presented me
with a tobacco bag, made out of a piece of pink merino, and the initials
of my name embroidered on it with yellow silk and filled with smoking
tobacco, and a shaker pipe stuck in it. It was quite a novelty and was
highly appreciated. After having partaken of a substantial breakfast I
bid my host and his family good bye, visited my friends Faber,
Lewellen, Coleman and other acquaintances of the city, all of which had
their tales of woe and sufferings to account at the hands of the enemy.
I departed for Selma on foot. I was weary and depressed. I heard that I
was again in close proximity to the enemy who routed Forrest from that
city and came within a fraction of either killing or capturing him. He
was surrounded by four troopers who demanded his surrender, when he
threw his saber, spurred his horse and ran the gauntlet among a shower
of bullets. I heard that in the melee he received a saber cut in the
face. I felt sick at heart and physically worn out and took a rest and
wended my way to Col. Bowen, who was glad to see me and offered me all
the comforts to recruit my strength. I remained there nearly a week. I
really did not know where to report to, General Beauford being on the
retreat before Wilson's corps who came from via Pensacola, Florida. I
was surrounded on every side, so I concluded to retrace my way back to
Montgomery but when a few miles from Greenville as I emerged from a long
lane at the end of which the road turned into a forest I noted some
Federal soldiers. I came within a very short distance of them before
seeing them; my first impulse was to run back, but I was tired, it
being a warm day and nothing to protect me from the bullets, having an
open lane where they might play at my fleeing figure. I concluded to
give up on demand, but on close approach, seeing that they were negro
troops I regretted not having taken chances, however great, of escape,
especially when I was asked to surrender my arms, which consisted of a
couple of colts 6 inch pistols, one of which I carried in a scabbard
buckled around me and the other in the belt of my pants, which were
tucked in my boot legs. In unbuckling my belt I contracted my body
allowing the one in my pants to slide down my leg into my boot and thus
only surrendered one of them. The other I carried on as I marched. The
friction of the barrel on the ankle of my foot gave me excruciating
pains but I continued on until I could feel the blood on the inside of
my boot. There were other prisoners, among them General Pillow and his
son, George. Arriving in Montgomery we were locked up in the Lehman
Brothers building which had served as a shoe factory for the Confederate
Government. I intended to use my weapon at the first opportunity I saw
to gain my liberty. That night I asked for a doctor to dress my wounded
foot. He came and asked me how that happened. My socks adhered to the
wounds and the pains it gave me were unbearable. I told him I had
snagged myself. He dressed my wound and I felt relieved to a great
extent. The next morning I sent word to my friend Faber to come to see
me and he did so. I said to him to see if he could not get me a parole,
after he had told me that he had had some Yankee officers quartered at
his house, saying that they were all Western men and seemed to be clever
fellows. He promised to use his influence. Presently he returned with an
officer and I was turned out on parole, but to report every morning at
nine o'clock. The following morning I reported, when the officer
commanded one of the men to take charge of me and lock me up. I thought
the jig was up, that probably I had been reported by some one and that I
might fare the worst for it. There were fifty prisoners; we were all
called out to form into line and from that into column, and marched up
the hill to the capitol, where we received some salt pork and hard tack
to last us three days. We were informed that we would be sent to Ship
Island, a country of yellow fever, close to New Orleans in retaliation
of Andersonville, there to take the chances to live or die; undoubtedly
they would have preferred the latter. About one o'clock p. m. a courier
rode up to the capitol, followed by another. Presently we were informed
that the war was over, that General Lee had surrendered and that Lincoln
was assassinated and instead of being sent to Ship Island we were to be
paroled under promise not to take up arms again against the United
States, until properly exchanged. This brings us up to the early part of
June 1865, or latter part of May.