SLEEP DISTURBED--NOISE IN THE WOODS--ITS CAUSE--NEGROES FURNISH
FOOD--WE HIDE NEAR THE TRAIL--HOUNDS AND HORSEMEN--EXCITEMENT OF
THE CHASE--WE BUY A QUANTITY OF PROVISIONS--OUR OBLIGATIONS--ON THE
HIGHWAY IN DAYLIGHT--UNDER DIFFICULTIES--WOOD CHOPPER--WOMAN AND
DOGS--WE PASS ROCKY MOUNT C. H.--INSECURE HIDING-PLACE--CHANGE OF
BASE--WE COME ACROSS A CITIZEN--HE TAKES STEPS TO CATCH US, BUT IS TOO
SLOW--OUR FLIGHT--OUR ESCAPE--RUN INTO A WAGON TRAIN--HID AWAY--MAKING
MUSH--SNOW--SORE FEET AND LAMENESS--TAYLOR FALLS BEHIND--TAYLOR LEFT
ALONE--HIS CONDITION.
When the sun was nearly an hour high, we were aroused from our slumbers
by a loud and incessant racket in the woods. We did not uncover our
heads at first. A squad of cavalry-men was the first thing of which we
thought, but on uncovering our heads and raising up on our elbows, we
found it, was the noise of wood choppers that had disturbed us. We
looked all around us, but could see nobody. The chopping continued,
and from the noise we judged several axes were being used. We at once
concluded that a party of negroes were at work not far from us, and
that we would have an opportunity of procuring supplies. The prospect
pleased us. Had we known our conclusion was correct we should have been
in an ecstasy of gratitude.
About one hundred yards south of us was a high ridge extending east
and west. East of us, about seventy yards distant, was another ridge
or spur putting out due northward from the main ridge. We judged from
the sounds that the wood choppers were east of us and the ridge last
described. By consent of our party, Sutherland and I got out of bed
and walked eastwardly to the ridge, striking it not far from the point
where it was lost in the level ground. We then crept along on our hands
and feet, keeping close together so that we could talk to each other
and be understood without speaking loudly. Soon we got around the point
of the ridge to a thicket of brush, where we halted. We could see the
colored folks at work, plying their axes vigorously. We waited and
watched anxiously a few minutes, to see if any whites were with them.
We saw none, and were glad of it; we returned to our comrades and made
report. We were in a blissful state of mind, and comforted ourselves on
the cheering prospect before us. Our feelings no doubt were similar to
those of weary travelers in the desert on approaching an oasis.
Our determination to consult with the negroes, and make overtures for
food and such other assistance as they could give, was soon made. It
was agreed that Sutherland and I should go upon this delicate mission.
We went, and soon reached the point from which we had watched the
negroes before. We again watched them closely, and assuring ourselves
that no whites were near, we emerged from the thicket, and walked
briskly toward them. As we approached one of the negroes noticed us.
He immediately called the attention of the others to us. Instantly all
chopping ceased, and quiet succeeded. At the same moment we halted,
and Sutherland put his hand to his mouth and asked if any whites were
about? The negro nearest us answered, "No, sah; massa was heah dis
mornin', but he done gone home now." We then advanced to the fires,
around which the negroes had collected to the number of ten or a dozen,
large and small. Our wants were immediately made known to them. They
were quite willing, even anxious to respond to our call for food. They
offered to divide with us at noon, when "missus" brought their dinner
out. We told them they would not have enough to spare, as there were
six of us, and we were very hungry. The oldest negro or "boss hand," as
he was called, then sent one of the younger ones to bring us something
to eat. The negroes were all deeply interested in us, and were anxious
to learn where our four comrades were hid. We told them, and inquired
if that was a safe place. We were informed it was safe enough, but
there was a better place south of it, across the ridge. We told the
boss we would cross the ridge and look out a good hiding-place. He
promised to bring our dinner to us as soon as it was brought to him
where he was at work.
Sutherland and I then returned to our comrades and informed them it
would not be long until we should have something to eat. In accordance
with the advice received from our colored friends we gathered our
things and moved across the ridge. We had passed the summit of the
ridge and were going down its southern declivity when we came to a
bench or level place, where we concluded to stop and make our bed. We
had intended to go to the level ground near the base of the ridge, but
on reaching the bench we knew of no reason why we should not stop there
for the remainder of the day. We made our bed anew, and then washed our
hands and faces, using the water from our bucket and canteen for that
purpose. We then seated ourselves upon our bed, and quietly awaited the
approach of the "boss" with our dinner. We had waited a short time,
probably a half hour, when we saw him with a large bucket in hand
near the base of the ridge hunting for us. One of our party rolled a
small stone down hill toward him to let him know where we were. He
soon discovered us, and climbed the hill-side, and delivered to us our
dinner. We began eating immediately, and found we had been bountifully
provided for. A bucket full of eatables, consisting of fried ham, fried
eggs, boiled beans, and corn-dodgers, was furnished us. We had a keen
relish for such fare, and devoured it all. When we had finished eating,
the negro took his bucket and returned to his work; first telling us he
would see us again in the evening. Our appetites were fully satisfied,
and we covered ourselves in our bed and went to sleep.
We had slept but a short time before our rest was disturbed by a
considerable noise. It was the noise of cavalry-men, without doubt,
we thought, or of horses running at their utmost speed. We uncovered
our heads and raised them slightly. On looking southward we saw two
hounds pass near the base of the ridge. They ran swiftly, and were
hot in pursuit of game. They were closely followed by three or four
white citizens on horseback. The hounds and horsemen were soon out of
hearing, and we felt greatly relieved. Just then the excitement of
the chase was not agreeable to us. We were heartily glad we were not
the objects of pursuit. Had we gone to the level ground, at the base
of the ridge, before halting, as was at first intended, we would most
likely have placed ourselves directly on the trail. The result to us in
that case would have been unfortunate. As our hiding-place was on the
steep side of the ridge, almost surrounded by small trees and brush, we
thought it a safe one, and again gave ourselves over to rest. We slept
well until late in the day. When we awoke the first object almost which
met our vision was our colored benefactor sitting near us whittling a
stick. He informed us we should have another meal at dusk. We told him
any thing good to eat would be acceptable to us, and place us under
lasting obligations to those who furnished it. We told him, too, that
we had some Confederate money, and would buy as much provisions as he
could deliver to us at dark, if it was not more than we could carry. He
promised to see if we could be supplied, and told us to come up where
they were at work after sunset.
As the day was already far spent, we began to fit up for another
night's journey. On completing our preparations, we waited a few
minutes longer for the sun to disappear in the west. Soon it had shed
its last ray over us for the day, and we picked up our things and
started from our retreat. By the twilight we made our way through the
woods to the place where the negroes had been at work during the day.
Just before dark we reached them. They had ceased from their labors
and were expecting us. Some fruit pies fried in grease were furnished
us for supper. While we were eating, the negroes asked what kind of
provisions we could carry most of, or most conveniently. We told them
we could do best on meat, salt, and meal. Two or three of them then
went to bring us a supply of those articles. In due time they returned
with a ham of meat, a little salt, half a bushel of meal, and half a
dozen corn-dodgers. Wood had with him a clean pillow-slip, brought from
the hospital. In it we put the corn-meal. The ham was cut in pieces and
put in our haversacks. The salt was carried by one of our party in a
blouse pocket.
On setting out we had the corn-dodgers, for which there was no room
in our haversacks; and as, on account of their size, we could not
get them into our blouse pockets without breaking them, we carried
them in our hands until midnight. The ham had cost the negroes three
dollars a pound, and it weighed twelve pounds and a half. We paid
them thirty-seven dollars and fifty cents for it in Confederate
shin-plaster. For the meal, salt, corn-bread, and what we had eaten
during the day, we gave them twenty-two dollars and fifty cents. We
paid them sixty dollars in all. It was not necessary, they did not
exact it, but we had the scrip and were made no poorer by parting with
it. It was current there at the time, and was much below par in the
country we hoped to reach ere long.
We conversed briefly with the colored people before leaving them. We
learned from them that we had traveled twenty-three miles the previous
night, and that it was about forty miles to Rocky Mount Court-House,
in Franklin county. It was growing late. The moon had risen, and was
advancing in its course. Every hour of the night was precious to us and
must be improved. We expressed to our benefactors our obligations. We
thanked them heartily and sincerely. We told them they had no idea of
the value of the service they had performed. It was a service to us; it
was also a service to the cause in which we had struggled and suffered
much. We could not pay them adequately, but hoped in the end they would
have their reward in the results of the war.
We bade them good-night and left them, and sought the road immediately;
on reaching it we could but contrast our feelings with those we had
experienced on leaving it early in the morning. Our minds were at
perfect ease on the question of supplies, as our pillow-slip was full,
our haversacks were full, and each of us had a corn-dodger in his hand
besides. We thought we should make a long stride toward our lines
before our supplies should be exhausted. The meal in the pillow-slip
was carried by turns. As we had eaten a great deal during the day we
did not feel like walking rapidly. We put in the whole time, however,
until after midnight, when we stopped to rest and eat some bread. A few
minutes' rest sufficed, and we resumed our travels.
As no incident in our travels particularly interesting, or worthy of
record, transpired for two or three nights or days, we pass on to
the events of a subsequent date. We will say, first, that during the
interval of time over which we pass without noting every circumstance
of our journey, we were very cautious. In the night-time, while
passing houses near the road, we maintained the strictest silence. We
walked carefully, and even then the dogs often discovered us, and made
the night dismal with their howling. We made it a rule not to allow
daylight to find us upon the road; but before we go much farther in
our narrative we will give an instance in which it did so find us. The
first rays of the sun generally shone upon us in our bed asleep. During
our waking hours in day-time, when hid in the lonely woods, we were
careful not to talk, or laugh out boisterously, knowing the liability
to be heard at a distance. We did not stand up or walk about a great
deal. When we had supplies there was no occasion to incur risks, or
purposely come in contact with any persons, black or white. We always
hid, if possible, where water would be convenient to us. We had fire in
day-time with which to broil our meat and make mush. During the day we
prepared our midnight lunch. When we were in a secure retreat for the
day we generally prepared a quantity of mush, for fear our hiding-place
next day would be in a place too much exposed to admit of fire or
smoke. In all our movements we tried to exercise the utmost caution.
As the distance between us and our prison became greater we became, if
possible, more cautious. The farther we got from prison the greater
would be our disappointment in being caught and taken back.
The early morning of February 24th found us upon the road, which led
through an open country. Cleared and fenceless lands bordered it on
either side. We pushed on, in the hope of reaching woods, until broad
daylight. At length the rays of the rising sun began to illuminate the
face of Nature. We were then obliged to leave the public highway. The
road had led us northward the last two nights, and still led us in that
direction. We looked to our right, where the lands were hilly or a
little broken. We went in that direction, thinking we could hide behind
a knoll, or rising ground. Soon we gained a point or crest, from which
the ground sloped gently to the east. A hundred yards or more ahead
of us we saw the tops of scattering trees projecting above a bluff.
We pressed on, and soon stood upon a precipice, and looked beyond it,
over a narrow wooded valley. We clambered half-way down the precipice
to hide among the rocks. We had laid our blankets, haversacks, and bag
of meal aside. We were going to make our bed, but found the space in
which we stood was not large enough for all of us. We would be hampered
by the rocks. Smith and I had unrolled our blankets; Sutherland, Wood,
Trippe, and Taylor had gone a little farther down among the rocks to
find more room. About the same time we saw a smoke rising through the
trees in the valley. We were sure a house was there, although we could
not see it. It was south-east of us, apparently half a mile distant.
We were about beginning the preparations for our daily rest when the
noise of an ax resounded in our ears. The noise was so unexpected and
so near us that we were startled, and at first looked around wildly,
and in amaze. We soon recovered from the shock of astonishment and
surprise, and peered cautiously around the rocks and looked below us.
Not more than a hundred yards from us, in the woods near the base of
the precipice, we saw a single white man wielding his ax. His dog was
near him. On account of the dog we lay low. If he had got a glimpse of
us his master would have become aware of our presence. We could not
make our bed; we could do nothing but keep still. Smith and I had near
us all the blankets, and all the provisions belonging to our party.
Our comrades were about thirty feet below us, almost under us. Smith
ventured to drop their blankets to them, after which we all kept quiet.
We slept but little. As long as the ax was used we felt no fear of
being seen by the man, but every half hour we peered out from the rocks
to see if the dog was near him.
About noon, or a little later, the man ceased chopping. We thought we
should have a short respite while the man went to dinner, and would
embrace that opportunity to eat our own. We looked out to see him
leaving. We were greatly disappointed. A woman--his wife perhaps--had
brought his dinner to him, and he was eating. She was accompanied by
another dog. The two dogs then pranced and prowled about in the woods,
and we watched them closely. We were fearful they would go around, and
get above and behind us, but they did not do so. We were in a very
restless and impatient mood; each moment seemed an hour almost. We
would have parted with jewels, if we had possessed them, to have been
away from there. When the man had finished eating, the woman took her
bucket and went away, followed by the dogs. We were highly pleased
to know the dogs were gone, for they had annoyed us greatly. The man
resumed his toil unconscious of our presence. As he chopped almost
incessantly, and could, therefore, look around but little, we felt
a little safer. Smith and I opened our haversacks and took out some
meat. We cut off a few thin slices and sprinkled them with meal. On raw
meat and meal we made our dinner. While eating, Smith and I exhibited
ourselves to our comrades below us. They looked up wishfully, and
signified their desire to eat. As Smith and I had all the commissary
stores we continued eating, to tantalize our comrades. At length we
put some meal and a chunk of meat in a haversack and dropped it to them.
The day had been a long one to us. Our rest had not been refreshing.
We were in constant apprehension and suspense. The loss of sleep and
comfort, in consequence of having no bed, had its effect upon our
bodies. We felt chilled and sore, and we longed for the approach of
night. Near four o'clock, P. M., the wood chopper ceased from toil
and went off with his ax on his shoulder. Erelong the sun went down,
and, as soon as we got every thing ready, we climbed the precipice
and went directly to the road. Early in the night we found we were
about entering the suburbs of a town. It was Rocky Mount Court-House,
Franklin county. We approached it on a road which bore a little west
of north. We fell back a few paces and began our circuit around the
place. On leaving the road we first climbed a fence and went across the
corner of an inclosed tract of timber lands. We then climbed a second
fence and entered open fields, in which we continued until the road
north-west of the place was reached. In making our circuit we were
guided by the lights in the town, which were yet burning. Near midnight
we halted and eat some meal and meat, upon which, with an occasional
swallow of water, we made a respectable supper.
On the morning of February 25th, as on the previous morning, we were
in an open country. At daylight we looked ahead of us on the road, but
saw no woods. A house, however, was discernible in the distance. As we
dared not pass it, we left the road which had been leading us westward.
South of the road, about half a mile, we saw a space of ground covered
over with numerous rocks, large and small. To it we directed our steps,
in the hope that the rocks would afford us shelter for the day. We
soon reached the place, but did not much like it, and were loath to
remain in its inadequate protection. But as the sun was up, we could
not look for a better or more secure hiding-place without incurring
even greater risks than there would be in making our bed, and keeping
it during the day, where we were. We cleared the small rocks from a
space sufficiently large for our bed and spread it upon the ground. We
then lay down to sleep. Our heads were near the base of a large rock
which was between us and the road we had left a few moments before,
and it hid us from view in that direction. To our right and left and
at our feet were many rocks of smaller size, which partially concealed
us as long as we lay low. On lying down we looked all around us, but
scarcely a tree or bush was visible. Nothing but a waste of barren
ground with an undulating and rocky surface could be seen. South of us,
perhaps a little west, and nearly a mile distant, was higher ground.
Beyond and above it, a few of the topmost branches of the tallest trees
projected. The chief feature of the country immediately surrounding us
was barrenness and nakedness. We could not resist the impression that
our hiding-place was poorly chosen. A feeling of insecurity crept over
us. The primeval forest of Virginia, with only the exception of the
previous day, had hitherto protected us from the view of the rebellious
citizens of the State. Near three hours of undisturbed repose was
granted us.
Near ten o'clock, A. M., we were awakened by a clattering noise. Taylor
looked out cautiously and discovered it was made by a wagon passing
over a stony road. It was not on the road we had left in the morning,
but on one just west of us, which crossed or intersected it. It was
nearly two hundred yards from us. The man in the wagon was driving
north-east, having come on the road from the south-west. On stopping in
the morning we had not noticed the road, as the surface of the ground
was a little broken, and many rocks and knolls intervened between it
and ourselves. It had washed and worn considerably below the level
of the ground. On finding we were so near a public highway, we felt
uneasy, and still more dissatisfied with our hiding-place. We did not
leave it yet, however, as the wagon had passed on out of hearing.
We again essayed to sleep. We fell into a kind of dozing sleep, from
which we were soon aroused by the hum of voices. We looked westward and
saw several persons, mostly women and children, walking on the road.
They were a great while passing, it seemed to us, and were disposed to
loiter by the way. We felt in an exceedingly disagreeable and unsafe
position. At length the hum of voices died away and we tried to feel
at ease, but could not. Very soon another rattling on the stony road
disturbed our equanimity and patience. We looked and saw a cart on the
road driven by a negro. It was a one-horse concern, and was followed
by a white man on horseback. We judged we were not far from town,
and resolved to flee our hiding-place, for fear some strollers, or
home guards, or somebody should come upon us and report us, and take
measures to recapture us.
We waited and watched until nearly noon, when, concluding there
would be no passing on the road, we put our things in convenient
shape for our first day-time traveling. Just as we had completed our
preparations, we looked westward and northward to see if any persons
were upon the road. We saw none. We immediately started southward,
bearing slightly to our left. We did not run, but walked rapidly,
without looking behind us. When we had gone about a mile, we reached
a point from which we could look down an inclined plane into woods.
We halted and looked all around us, but saw no one. We judged we had
not been seen, and deemed our movement a successful one. We were glad
to see woods once more, and pushed on until we stood in the midst of
forest-trees.
We sat down on a large rock to rest and watch awhile. We were on a
wooded hill-side, which sloped gently to the south-west. Trippe got
up from his seat and went in a south-east course on the hill-side, to
look for a place in which to hide. He was gone some time, and we became
impatient for his return. We did not wish to leave the place where he
had left us until he came back, as he would not know where to find
us. Nearly a half hour passed before we saw Trippe returning. He was
walking slowly and hesitatingly. He occasionally looked back in the
direction he had gone. Before he reached us we discovered something
wrong had happened; or if nothing wrong, something at least which we
would rather had not transpired.
Trippe was vexed and almost spiritless. He had been recaptured once,
and now he thought his time had come to be caught again and taken back
to prison. He told us the cause of his discouragement. He had gone
south-east of us, an eighth of a mile, or more, along the hill-side.
He had turned directly south to go down hill, when he saw a man clad
in "butternut" coming up hill. Trippe thought, and hoped, he had not
been noticed by the citizen, and stood still to see if he would pass.
The citizen came on up hill. His foot slipped, and he caught hold of
a little tree to keep from falling. In getting around and above the
tree his head turned slightly, and he noticed Trippe, about twenty
steps from him. As soon as he recovered from his surprise he approached
Trippe, and asked what he was doing there. Trippe said he was just
looking through the woods a little. Other questions were asked, and
answered by each party. Trippe tried at first to equivocate, but found
it useless, as his uniform was plainly that of a Federal soldier. He
told the citizen he had been a prisoner at Danville, and with others
was trying to make his way to the Union lines. He also told him where
we were, and how many there were of us in all. The citizen feigned
sympathy with Trippe, and expressed a hope that he would get home all
right. Trippe had very little faith in him. He advised Trippe not to
fight any more against the South, and at the same time offered his
hand. Trippe took the hand in his own with not the slightest confidence
in its possessor. The Rebel pledged to Trippe his word and honor not to
lay a straw in his path, and immediately turned and went directly back
on his trail. Trippe watched him, and soon saw that he hurried himself,
as if suddenly imbued with a new purpose.
When Trippe related the circumstance to us we became intent on getting
away from there, as quickly and as far as possible. We placed no
reliance in the promise of the Confederate not to lay a straw in
our path, but thought he would take measures to interpose greater
obstacles in the way of our progress. Our things being already in
compact marching order, we started immediately. The meal in the
pillow-slip, though not heavy, being more than two-thirds used, was all
the surplus thing we had to carry. All else was in our haversacks. We
went south-east, and soon reached the spot where the citizen had been
encountered by Trippe. We then turned to our right and went south-west.
On reaching the base of the ridge we found we would emerge from the
woods and cross cleared lands, in a narrow valley, or change our
course. There was no time for debate, and we pushed ahead.
Near the outskirts of the woods two little boys and a little girl were
playing. As we passed, the largest boy cried out, "Uncle Jim has gone
for the guards to catch you uns with." We hurried forward, scarcely
taking time to thank the children for the information. If we had to
be hunted we were glad to know it. A short distance ahead of us was a
house. We passed near it, leaving it a little to our right. When we
were just opposite the house, a woman came to the door and exhorted us
to hurry. She said her brother-in-law was a "mean man," and had gone to
report us to the home guards. As time was gold to us just then, we did
not halt, but heeded the exhortation so earnestly given. As we crossed
the branch which traversed the narrow valley we heard the woman say her
husband had been killed in the war. She talked on, but we were soon out
of hearing.
As we approached the upland, on the opposite side of the valley, we
began to think about obscuring our trail. We noticed where a hollow, or
ravine, entered the valley from the wooded hill-side. We got into the
hollow and followed on its rocky bed, where we made no tracks, until we
got some distance into the woods. A portion of the time we went on the
double-quick, and sometimes, when on level ground or going down hill,
we went even more rapidly. It was two o'clock, or a little later in the
day, when we first halted to listen for "Uncle Jim" and his guards. We
did not hear them, nor did we wish to; so we pressed on. We had so far
traveled three miles or more, mostly in a western direction.
A point had been reached from which we could look across fields and
open country in all directions, except south, south-west, and east--the
course we should take in retracing our steps. As we did not wish to
cross fields, or go back on our trail, we turned southward. In that
direction we proceeded until we had gone over a mile, when we turned
to our right, and again pushed rapidly westward, through a heavy wood.
Soon we came to a branch of clear running water. As we were tired we
concluded we would wade in the water, following the stream down, and
thus obscure our trail. As we had made tracks in the wet soil near the
branch on approaching it, we pushed on across it, going some distance
until the solid ground was reached. We then got back to the branch,
walking on scattering rocks, sticks, and logs, so as to leave no traces
behind us. If the guards were on our trail, we hoped, when they reached
the branch, they would cross it, and push on westward as speedily as
possible.
We followed down stream in a south-west course for more than a mile.
When in the water we traveled at a moderate gait, as the branch
traversed a very narrow, thickly wooded valley, and we could not be
seen at a distance. A point on the branch was at length reached where a
road crossed it. The road had the appearance of being traveled a great
deal, and we looked up and down it to see if any body could be seen.
On seeing no one we crossed to the south of the road, still wading in
the water. After getting a short distance into the woods, south of the
road, we left the branch and pushed rapidly westward. Our feet had
become wet, and we resorted to brisk walking to get our socks dry.
We would have taken time to take our socks off and wring the water
from them, but, should the guards come upon us, we did not wish to be
barefooted.
Our flight was continued until sunset. We had intended traveling on a
line parallel with the road, but found it necessary to bear southward
occasionally to avoid crossing open fields. When the sun had gone
down we called a halt. The country was very rough and broken where we
halted; heavy woods and brushy undergrowth were all around us on all
the hill-sides. We took refuge in a thicket, near a considerable bluff.
No sounds of pursuers could be heard; every thing was still. We rested
well, and slept a little. Our feet were worsted by the wetting they
had received and our subsequent rapid walking. On a few scraps of meat
dipped in meal we made a scanty supper. We dared not build a fire after
dark or we would have made some mush and taken a fuller meal.
Before the moon arose it was very dark. We waited half an hour or
more for its appearance above the horizon. At length its light shone
dimly through the woods. The sky was a little clouded and the woods
were dense, but the moon served to guide us upon our course, if its
light did shine imperfectly and at intervals. We gathered our things
and started. We steered northward. When obliged to turn aside, or
vary from that course, we varied to the west. Many difficulties beset
us. Our hurried march in the day had considerably taxed our powers of
endurance; our rest at dark was brief, only, long enough for our limbs
to stiffen; our feet were sore; we were hungry; our hasty meal at dark
had not sufficed. It was the first we had eaten since midnight of the
night before, on getting around Rocky Mount Court-House. The country
was hilly; we got over and down one hill only to begin the ascent of
another; the woods were dark, and logs and brush obstructed our pathway
and impeded our progress. We persevered, however, and pressed on. One
of our party went in advance and pushed the brush aside; the other five
of us followed just behind him, in "close order."
Fully an hour passed before we emerged from the brush and woods into
more open ground. We climbed a fence and crossed a field. On getting
out of the field we struck a road running east and west. We followed
it at a moderate gait until we had gone a mile, when we reached a
cross-road. We then turned to our right and went due north. On going
two miles or more we called a halt. We were much fatigued; nearly worn
down, in fact, and, besides, we were faint and hungry. The road we
were following seemed not to be much traveled. We had passed no house
since dark. We had stopped on the road, where it was winding along the
side of a ridge, which was heavily wooded. We determined to look for a
retreat where we could rest awhile, build a fire, and make some mush.
We left the road and went up hill west of it. Soon we gained the top
of the hill or ridge. We then went down the hill on its western slope,
and in the bushes near the foot of it we halted. The noise of rippling
or running waters could be distinctly heard. Two of our party took our
canteen and bucket and went to fill them. While they were gone we
built a fire. A blanket was unrolled and spread on the bushes above the
fire to partially conceal its light. Our bucket was then made three
times full of mush. Small, thin slices and bits of meat were cut off
and put in the mush as it was cooking. Soon our hunger was appeased,
and our weariness hung not so heavily upon us. We put up our things,
scattered our fire, sought the road, and resumed our journey.
Near midnight, and just after we had crossed a branch, we were startled
by hearing a solitary shot in the woods. We immediately halted.
Seemingly the sound of the shot came from a point not very far ahead
of us, but some distance to our left. Our first conjecture was that we
were in the vicinity of a cavalry bivouac. Two or three of our party
thought the home guards had been posted on the roads, and were about to
hem us in. There was no time to be lost in parleying, and we determined
to go on slowly and slyly. Before going two hundred yards we came to
a turn in the road. The road had been leading us northward, but on
going around the turn it led us west. We again halted, thinking it was
possible there was a guard on the road, as it led in the direction
from whence the sound of the shot had proceeded. Trippe proposed going
on a few paces to see. He did so. We followed him at the distance of
fifty or sixty paces. In this way we advanced fully half a mile, when
we reached a point where the road passed between fields. Trippe waited
until we came up, when he pronounced the road clear, as far as pickets
were concerned.
We then pushed on, and discovered we were about passing a house on the
left of the road. We checked our speed and passed the house with care
and celerity. When we had got about twenty steps beyond the house,
and just as we were becoming careless again, the dogs began a lively
barking. We proceeded a dozen steps further when we noticed the sparks
of a fire flying upward. The fire was about twenty steps ahead of us,
on the left of the road. It was near the corner of the rail-fence,
where the lane terminated. We stopped instantly, but said nothing. We
watched the fire closely for a moment. The dogs kept up their howling.
In the light of the fire, which soon blazed up, we distinctly saw
several covered wagons ahead of us near the road side. We knew, or
thought at least, that we were about running into a supply train. We
hardly knew what to do. The dogs continued barking furiously, and
would soon arouse somebody, to see what disturbed them. We could not
go forward, as the guards, or teamsters, with the train would discover
us. We did not wish to go back by the house, as there was danger of
being observed by persons within, or about it. There was no time for
deliberation. We climbed the rail-fence to our right on the north of
the road. We were careful not to make any noise; although the dogs made
hubbub enough to drown any noise we should make.
We had left tracks on the road, and found on getting into the field
that its surface was moist and impressible. We determined to make a
trail that would mislead any person who might have the curiosity to
follow us. On reaching a point in the field about a quarter of a mile
due north of the road we turned east. In that direction we traveled
half a mile. We then turned south and crossed the fence at the corner
of the field. On getting into the road we followed it east nearly a
quarter of a mile, when we went some distance in a south-east course.
By so doing we got into thick woods where the ground was covered with
leaves, where we could leave only very indistinct traces behind us.
We then turned and traveled directly west, keeping parallel with the
road, and a little more than a quarter of a mile south of it. The dogs
at the house still kept up their howling; and as the train and those
with it were just at hand, we kept off at a safe distance. The shot we
had heard an hour before, we judged had been fired by some one with the
train.
When we had gone far enough, in a western direction, to reach a point
directly south of the house, where the dogs were still barking, we bore
considerably to our right, and went north-west. We continued in that
direction until we struck the road some distance west of the wagon
train. After going something more than a mile further on the road, in
a direction a little north of west, we halted. It lacked an hour or
more of being daylight, but as we were very tired, having traveled
many miles in the last twenty-four hours, we determined to look out
for a secure hiding-place for the day. We accordingly left the road
and penetrated some distance into the woods on the north of it. Just
after crossing a small branch we halted, and made our preparations for
a refreshing sleep. We fell into a sound slumber immediately on lying
down on our bed.
About mid-day we awoke and found ourselves very stiff and sore all
over. We felt very little like moving about. We had pulled off our
shoes on lying down, and on getting up we found our feet were so very
sore that we could hardly get them on again. The sky was overcast with
clouds, threatening snow. Our stock of provisions was getting very
low, and other circumstances seemed to conspire in making the woods
around us and the prospect before us quite cheerless. That we had not
fallen into the hands of the home guards was the only circumstance
that afforded us consolation. After getting our shoes on, we set about
building a fire. We went to the branch near us and washed our hands
and faces; afterward feeling some better. Our vessels were filled with
water at the branch, to be used in making mush. When we had dispatched
our dinner we had some meal left, also a little salt, but no meat.
The meal was emptied from the pillow-slip and made into mush, which,
with the exception of the last bucket full made, was put into the
pillow-slip. The last mush made was left in the bucket. When the mush
became cold it sliced off nicely, and was ready for our midnight meal.
Shortly after noon one of our party wandered out northward from our
hiding-place some distance, and spied a man engaged in plowing in an
old field. It was early in the season, we thought, for plowing, but as
we had seen plowing near Danville in January, we knew it was nothing
unusual for that country. Sutherland and I went out and lay close to
the fence which inclosed the field, to watch the man who was plowing,
and see if we could determine whether he was white or black. It so
happened that he did not plow on out to the fence near which we were
hid, as a strip of sod or grass land intervened between him and the
fence. We were somewhat disappointed, as we could not make out at that
distance whether the man was white or black. If we had been assured he
was a black man, we would have made an effort to procure more food.
Near the close of the day we went to the branch and bathed our feet
thoroughly, hoping, if it did not improve them, it would keep them from
getting sorer than they were already. We then lay down and slept about
an hour, and on waking we found that our blankets and the ground were
covered with snow to the depth of an inch. We got up and shook the
snow from our blankets, and put every thing in order for the night's
marching. Awhile before sunset the snow ceased falling, the clouds
began to clear away, and the weather was perceptibly cooler. No clouds
obscured the sun as it shed its last rays over us for the day, and sank
from view in the west.
Just at dark we left our hiding-place and went directly to the road.
It was quite dark, as the moon had not appeared; but as our feet were
sore, we could only advance slowly any how, and we pushed on. In the
road, where there were no leaves, the snow had melted, making the
walking slippery and slavish. When the moon arose we walked at the
side of the road, and got along some better. Early in the night Taylor
began to fall behind. Sore feet, we judged, was the cause of his slow
progress. He fell behind several times, and we waited as often for him
to come up. We asked him no questions, only supposing that his feet
were sorer than our own. About ten o'clock, or a little later in the
night, we struck a pike running north-east and south-west. The road we
had been following did not cross it. As we had to change our course,
and as Taylor was some distance behind, we waited for him to catch up.
When he had caught up we waited awhile longer for him to rest.
On renewing our travels we followed the pike in a north-east course
toward Lynchburg. Before going very far on the pike, we passed one
house on the left. We went nearly half a mile beyond the house, when
we discovered an obscure road leading westward. We changed our course,
as we wished to reach and cross the Blue Ridge Mountains as soon as
possible. Taylor had kept up with us while following the pike, but
again fell behind on leaving it. The road was a poor one. Its clay
surface had been considerably moistened by the melting snow, late in
the day and early in the night. Before midnight the mud began freezing,
and it stuck tenaciously to our shoes. The country was rough and
broken, and the road led us over a succession of ridges and hollows.
In breaking the frozen crust of mud our feet were continually slipping
backward or forward, or sideways, as we went up and down the hills,
making our march extremely fatiguing and wearisome. We were obliged
to keep the road on account of the trees, logs, and brush near it on
either side. Our way, however, was plain before us, as the road looked
black in contrast with the snowy woods.
We trudged on in the difficult and lonely way, and, though our progress
was slow, Taylor had fallen far behind. Near midnight we were on the
point of stopping to eat some mush, but concluded to move on slowly
for awhile, and give Taylor a chance to catch up with us or gain on
us. We slackened our pace considerably, and, on going half a mile, we
halted at the road side. Taylor had not caught up with us, neither was
he in sight or hearing. We sat on a log, and waited patiently for his
approach. Several minutes passed while we were waiting. We took the
mush from our bucket and cut it in slices ready for eating. While so
doing Taylor came dragging himself along the road. We called to him,
and he turned aside to join us in the woods. He was lame and weary.
On reaching us he sank almost exhausted to the ground, sitting in the
snow and placing his back against the log upon which we sat. We made no
inquiries of Taylor as to the cause of his lameness, supposing he could
not tell us more than we knew already.
One or two observations were made respecting the bad condition of the
road, after which we began eating our midnight lunch. When we had
finished eating we gathered our things and started. Trippe and I were
ahead, and had reached the road and gone on it a few steps. Wood and
Sutherland were closely following us. Sutherland looked back and saw
Smith coming, but did not see Taylor. Sutherland then asked, "Smith,
where is Taylor? an't he coming?" Smith answered, "I thought he was
following me;" and then looked behind and called aloud, "Come on,
Taylor." Smith not understanding Taylor's reply, went back to him. On
being asked why he had not started, Taylor said he was unable to go any
farther, as his broken leg had failed him. Smith at once called to us
to come back to the place where Taylor was. We did so. It was painfully
apparent that he could go no farther that night. We learned for the
first time that he had been wounded in the leg, and had one of its
bones broken. He was not a Chickamauga prisoner, but had been wounded
and captured at or near Leesburg, Virginia, in a cavalry engagement,
early in July, 1863, at the time of the battles of Gettysburg,
Pennsylvania. During our four or five weeks' association with him it so
happened we had not learned of his wound.
We at once concluded that our travels for that night were at an end,
and began looking around for a place in which to lie over until the
following night. When Taylor heard our determination he objected,
saying he felt sure he would not be able to travel by the following
night, and might not be able to renew the journey for a week. He would
not consent that we should remain with him until the next night, unless
he knew he would be able to go on with us by that time. We insisted on
waiting with him as long as that, as we should lose only three hours'
time by so doing. Taylor still objected, saying he would not detain us
a single hour, and if we failed in reaching the lines, it should not be
laid to his charge. We determined to remain, when Taylor assured us he
could not travel for at least three or four nights, and was unwilling
to feel himself responsible for the consequences that might ensue
from so long a detention of our party. We then offered to divide our
party, to leave two with Taylor, and let the other three go on. But he
objected to this proposal also, saying he would not delay a single one
of us, and probably be the cause, immediate or remote, of the return
of that one to prison. He would rather take his chances of ultimately
reaching the lines alone, and feel clear of responsibility for any
accident or disaster that might overtake us than to do otherwise.
[Illustration: "LEFT ALONE."--PAGE 53.]
We had offered fairly, as we thought, and concluding Taylor knew
the nature and extent of his disability much better than we did, we
determined to leave the case to him. If he said remain, we would
cheerfully do so; or if he said for us to go on and leave him behind,
we would do that regretfully. Taylor then said for us to lose no
time on his account, but to push on to the Union lines, and make our
escape good. It required but a few moments to arrange for resuming
our journey, and to advise Taylor as to the best course to pursue;
to say to him the parting good-by, and leave him behind. The mush in
the pillow-slip, all the provisions we had, except a little salt, was
then taken out and divided into six parts. The largest part was given
to Taylor. The other five parts were put in our haversacks. Nearly or
quite half of the scrip on hand was given him, as he was going to tarry
awhile in the Confederacy, and might use it to advantage. A portion of
the salt was also given him. The canteen which had been used by our
party so far on the trip, and which belonged to Taylor, was left with
him. He had a watch and a supply of scrip to barter for food, or for
the services of a guide, to conduct him to the lines, or both. With
these, and with his canteen and haversack, we left him alone in the
woods, wrapped in his overcoat and blanket. It was a sad and melancholy
scene we witnessed in parting from Taylor. It was painful and trying
to us to shake his hand, and say to him "good-by." Our feelings
were similar to those occasioned by the fall of a comrade on the
battle-field. We had left Taylor, and were getting into the road when
we heard him say, "Company G, 2d Massachusetts Cavalry," giving his
address, and asking us to write to him if we reached the lines. We each
of us then gave him the name of the company and regiment to which we
respectively belonged, so that he might write to us if he got through
all right.
The substance of the advice we gave to Taylor was to remain where he
was until daylight, at which time he could move to a better or more
secure hiding-place, if able to do so, where he could command a view
of the road, and see persons that might pass upon it. The first negro,
or party of negroes, he saw passing, if no whites were with them, he
was to hail, and beckon them to him and make his condition known,
and get them to harbor him, or take him to some house where he could
be harbored until he was able to renew his journey. If he saw no
person pass during the day, he was to go in the evening in search of a
habitation where assistance might be given him. When able to travel,
he was to secure, if possible, the services of a guide, to conduct him
to some point within or in the vicinity of the pickets or outposts of
our army. He could reward his guide, if fortunate enough to secure one,
with his watch and Confederate money.
It was the night of Friday, February 26, 1864, that we left Taylor
behind. We left him within six miles of the Blue Ridge Mountain, at a
point between eighty and one hundred miles south-west of Lynchburg,
Va., and nearly three miles west of the pike leading to that place. We
must have left him somewhere near the boundary line between Franklin
and Bedford counties, Va., in the north-west corner of one, or in the
south-east corner of the other. If it was trying to us to part with
Taylor and leave him, it must have put his resolution and self-denial
to a severe test to persist in being left alone in his crippled and
almost helpless condition. On stopping he was warm, as the road was
bad, and he had exerted himself to catch up with us. By sitting down
in the snow, he cooled suddenly, and his lame leg became stiff and
useless. His condition was critical and unenviable, as he was unable
to move about with ease or comfort, and his supply of food was small
in quantity and poor in quality. No house was near him. We had not
passed a house since leaving the pike. The weather was cold, as the
snow and mud was freezing. He was in a bleak mountain country alone. No
friend was near him. We had been his friends and comrades, and were his
friends still, but had forsaken him. His prospect was cheerless. His
desponding heart had little on which to predicate a hope. He dreaded
to meet a man of his own color, for fear of meeting an enemy, and in
the mountain districts the blacks were few. The woods around him were
dreary, although the ground was covered with snow, and the moon shone
brightly. The trees with their leafless branches and skeleton shadows
could be dimly seen, but were poor companions for a maimed and wearied
traveler in an enemy's land. It was a touching, but a necessary or
unavoidable incident of our journey to leave Taylor behind in the
Winter, and in the wilderness, as a lonely and solitary sentinel in the
silent watches of the night. But we could do no better, as our supply
of provisions was nearly exhausted, and we could not recruit it, or
seek assistance for him without jeopardizing his safety as well as our
own. So we left him to whatever fate might fall to him in the merciful
dispensation of Providence.
I have never heard from or of Taylor to this date, December, 1869.
Whether he got able to travel, and succeeded in making his escape from
the Confederacy, or whether he was recaptured and returned to prison,
is not known to me. He may have perished from starvation where we left
him, on account of inability to get away from there.