Part 2

Two of the party resolved to continue westward in the direction of Tennessee. The distance to the Union lines was greater but the country to be traveled was mountainous, and thought to be safer. One chose to go northward towards Virginia. Another started for Roanoke River, intending to follow it to the coast. I started directly eastward, having determined to take the nearest and most direct route to the Union forces on the coast of North Carolina, and intending to make up by caution what I might lose by having the most dangerous route. After traveling some time I came suddenly upon a cabin situated in the edge of the forest, and being almost famished I figured around until I satisfied myself that it would probably be safe to arouse the dwellers within. In most cases the cabins stood in clusters in the vicinity of the residence of the proprietor of the plantation on which they are situated. But sometimes you would find one standing in some isolated spot far removed from any other. I had no means of knowing what time it was--perhaps about midnight. An old black man answered my summons, and when he appeared I asked him if it would be safe in the house for a Yankee. Without giving him time to reply I pushed in past him. We closed the door and I then explained to him who I was and what I wanted. I found myself in a room containing some crude articles of furniture and perhaps half a dozen little children lying promiscuously on the floor. The fireplace was the most conspicuous thing in view. It occupied nearly the whole of one side of the cabin. The man aroused his wife and told her to get up and see a Yankee. She had evidently never seen a Union soldier and, like all others of her class, entertained strange ideas of his appearance. From the stories they had been told of the crimes committed by the Yankees and the punishment inflicted upon the black people who fell into their hands, their fancies had painted some horrible looking creature which would more resemble "old Nick" than anything else.

After looking at me closely from head to foot, she exclaimed, "Is you a Yankee?" "Yes," I replied, "I'm a Union soldier and belong to the northern army." "The Lor' bress me," she said, turning to her husband; "Dey told us dey had horns, but he looks just like our folks," and she went on talking, sometimes addressing me, sometimes her husband, until I was compelled to interrupt her. I asked her if she could spare me a bite of bread. "Lor' yes, honey, ye look sta'ved," and she secured some meal, kneaded it into a ball as large as the fist, laid it on the hearth and covered it up with hot ashes. This is the way they make what is called an ash cake.

While this was going on I felt somewhat anxious. During our hasty talk the old man said the Home Guards often visited the cabins of the black people in the night, in search of runaways and conscripts. These Home Guards were composed of those who were either too old or too young to go into service at the front. It seemed that all classes in the south had military duty of some kind to perform. As a precaution against discovery I went out some distance from the house and waited until the cake was brought out. In a short time my old friend came out with the cake. What a treat it was no one can form an idea.

Striking out again, I followed the directions given me by the old man as near as I could in the darkness, and daylight the next morning found me close to a town wearily trudging along, nibbling at the ash cake which I carried in my pocket. This town proved to be Franklinton, and, it will be remembered, was the same at which our train stopped, and where the guard was changed. Turning out of the road I went in search of a place to hide during the day. I soon ran into the brush, or timber, and in a little while came across a number of stacks of newly made rails and railroad ties. I crept under one of these and sat down on the leaves, shivering with cold. It was in March. The nights were extremely cold. I was thinly clad, and sometimes thought I would perish.

It was not long until I heard persons approaching, and looking out between the rails, saw six or eight black men carrying axes. They had come to begin the day's work. We were soon engaged in conversation. They said some one might be there during the day, and to guard against my presence becoming known to them, and in order to make me as comfortable as possible, they gathered together more leaves and leaned more rails against the stack. They lingered at work until after dark, and then put me on the road to Louisburg, a town on the Tar River, about ten or twelve miles from Franklinton, one of them going some distance with me. Louisburg was the town I started for the night before, but, losing my way, had reached Franklinton, having made very little progress in the proper direction. I reached a point within a short distance of Louisburg about daylight. During the night I often felt very sick, and sometimes thought I could go no further.

Now, as the day began to dawn, I was utterly prostrated, and with great difficulty reached some corn fodder stacks standing in a field. Lying down between the stacks. I remained there throughout the day, suffering intensely. About dark I got up and staggered to a cabin which I noticed during the day, standing some distance away. Fortunately I found it occupied by black people. Giving them a brief account of myself, I asked for some hot tea of some kind. The woman went hastily to work to get it. I retired a short distance from the house, as a precaution, and waited until it was brought out. It was made of herbs of some kind, and revived me very much. Louisburg is situated on the north bank of the Tar River. I was at this time two or three miles south of the river. Getting what information I could here, I started straight down the south side of the river, leaving Louisburg to my left. I succeeded in making a point some five or six miles below, and east of the town, that night. The river runs eastward and empties into the Pamlico river at Greenville.

Almost perishing from cold and exhaustion, I anxiously awaited for daylight. It was my rule to look for a black man--in case I needed to see one--between dark and bed-time or about daylight in the morning. When daylight appeared I fortunately found one without much trouble, and it happened he was one of more than the average intelligence. Explaining my situation, I told him it was necessary that I should conceal myself for several days until I could gain strength. Realizing that an over-indulgence in food of any kind was dangerous on account of the debilitated condition of my stomach, I was very careful, but with all my caution, I had taken too much of the ash cake, and it came near killing me. We were not far from the river, and the man thought it advisable for us to cross to the north side, as he thought he knew of a place over there which would be safe from intrusion. So we hurried to the river bank, got into a "dug-out" which he pulled from among the bushes, and paddled across. The river banks were lined with timber and thick underbrush, and often swampy ground. We pushed into the brush and soon came to the spot which he had fixed upon for my abode. The river was only a few rods wide, and in many places very difficult to approach on account of the heavy growth of brush of different kinds. The black people, however, knew every inch of the ground, and had secreted in many places all sorts of small boats--everything of the kind that would float and carry one across. A couple of small logs tied together would be sufficient, and even these, I afterwards learned, could be found in many places. The man, fearing his absence might be noticed, hurried away, telling me to remain there until night. That night he re-appeared, accompanied by another man. This second man proved to be my guardian angel, as I shall show further along. They had with them some herb tea and a part of a bed quilt, both of which were of great value at that time. For some days I was in the greatest distress.

During the stay at this place I would have more or less black people to see me every night. Curiosity to see a Northern man and a desire to render aid in any way, was the motive which brought them. While there were a few free negroes among the visitors, the greater number were slaves. The latter would give accounts of their troubles, and many woeful stories of cruelty were rehearsed.

At this place a black man gave me a dirk knife with a double-edged blade, for the purpose, he said, of protecting myself against dogs or other enemies. He had made it by grinding down a file, and had produced a very formidable weapon. I have always remembered these people with the greatest interest. There was that one before spoken of who won my fullest gratitude. His name was Ben--Ben Foster. Foster, of course, was the name of the man who owned him. When I was weakest this man would carry me from place to place, when he thought there was danger of discovery by remaining too long in one place.

I went in search of him a few years after the war, and found him not far from the scene of our first acquaintance. The incident of meeting this man a few years after the war was one of the most pleasant experiences I ever met with. He, of course, did not know me when I first approached, but to witness the looks of surprise and hear his expressions of happiness at seeing me again, alive and well, was worth to me a great deal more than it cost to go South and hunt him up. I was accompanied on the trip by M. L. A. McCracken, Esq., an eminent attorney, of Washington, Pa., and he was both interested and amused at the scene when we met.

Many of these slaves were shrewd and observing and fairly intelligent, and in conversation about matters connected with the war gave evidence of a pretty good understanding of the condition of things. They knew they were a prominent factor in the issue. And what wonderful faith they had in the guiding hand of an over-ruling Providence--faith in God and Massa Lincoln. Their simplicity and earnestness in religious matters and their superstitions were prominent characteristics. An old aunty told me to look out for the owls. If one hooted in front of me it meant bad luck; if one to the right or left or rear, it meant something--good, bad or worse; I forget just how they had it arranged. A man named Dick, an interesting character, who had more than once, he told me, attempted to get away from bondage, but was as often overtaken and returned to his master, came often to see me. He was a laughing, rollicking sort of a fellow, and was usually engaged in humming a melody or dancing--always full of merriment and music. He told me one night he would go and get a fishing line, and next morning would go to the river and get us some fish. I fully endorsed the proposition, because it promised to secure a kind of food I was very much in need of. The corn bread had sickened me; my stomach revolted against accepting it, but it was very difficult to get anything else, and I was compelled to use it. Before daybreak the following morning I was startled from an uneasy slumber by hearing Dick's familiar voice breaking the stillness of the season by humming, in a tone somewhat suppressed:

"Cold, frosty mo'nin', niggah very good, Wid his axe on his shouldah, slippin' fro' de wood, Old rusty hoe cake, not a bit of fat, White folks grumble if you eat too much o' dat."

He was armed with fishing tackle, and we proceeded to the river bank, but a short distance away. He took a position in the branches of a fallen tree lying close to the water's edge, while I fell back into the brush to await results. It was not long until Dick called, excitedly, "Fo' de Lawd, massa, come quick." I hastened to where he was and found he had caught an eel. It was with some difficulty we got the thing off the hook, as everybody who has had the experience of taking an eel off a fishing hook will believe. We eventually secured it, and Dick slipped away to have it cooked. In due course of time he returned with it, nicely fried. My stomach, as before remarked, was out of shape, but I will remember that eel to my dying day as the sweetest morsel that ever went into my mouth.

Time passed with me making a most miserable existence in the brush. One night I was suffering all that I could suffer and live, when uncle Ben reached me, and, seeming to realize the extent of my affliction, laid out some plans of his own as to what should be done. A mile or more away, standing alone in the solitude of the forest, was an old cabin occupied by a free negro family named Jones. While there was some risk in the proposition, Ben determined I should be under shelter from the cold and damp, for a time, at least; so he picked me up and "toted" me to this cabin, and arranged with the occupant, Mr. Jones, to take me back into the brush before daylight. This was repeated several nights. Soon after it was thought best to change my location to some point as distant from the present one as it was possible to get to in one night. Across the river and south of Louisburg, probably three or four miles, was a house belonging to the owner of a large plantation. It was located on a main road leading southward from the bridge spanning the river at Louisburg. The house had been abandoned by the owner at the outbreak of the war, and the plantation, house, and household furniture had been left in the care of the slaves. Such a house had always been exempt from search by the Home Guards. The overseer on this plantation was a slave. It is a fact that slaves were sometimes chosen as overseers on plantations, and it is also said to be a fact that the lash was not spared when used by one of these overseers on the body of a fellow slave.

It was determined by uncle Ben and one or two of his faithful friends that I should be taken to the house spoken of and kept within it for a few days and nights. This was for the double purpose of getting me away from the old neighborhood and of getting me under shelter. In going there we must either re-cross the river east of the town and make a long, circuitous journey, or go directly through it and cross the bridge. The latter route was chosen, and one night uncle Ben and a friend, and myself a few yards in the rear, entered the place. We had reached a point near the bridge, and I was waiting in the shadow of an old building standing in an alley for them to reconnoiter around the bridge and its approaches. They soon returned, showing considerable excitement and fright. They had discovered some one on the bridge, and, of course, fancied it was an enemy. We fell back in some disorder, it is true, but without meeting with any mishap. Not far from the town there lived a free negro family. The cabin stood in an obscure spot, and to this cabin we directed our steps. We laid our case before them and secured their friendship and co-operation. I was permitted to pass the night and the following day in the loft of their house. It is my recollection that that day was Sunday; at any rate, quite a number of young black girls and boys gathered under the shade of some trees surrounding the house and spent the greater part of the day in innocent amusement--singing and dancing. None but members of the household knew a Yankee was peeping under the eaves, looking at the performances. The scene was the most amusing and enjoyable of the kind I ever witnessed. The antics of the actors were "to the manor born," while the flirtations of the sable beaus and belles showed that at least some of the customs of the white folks had crept into plantation society. When the party broke up in the evening, they went off, making the country resound with the music of native songs.

On that night we again started to make our way through the town and across the bridge. We reached the borders of the town, and cautiously joining the procession of people going to church, we mingled with them until we got in the neighborhood of the bridge. I might occupy a page or two describing our manoeuvers while getting to and over the bridge. It is sufficient to say that we successfully passed over, and some time after the middle of the night reached our destination, the mansion on the plantation above spoken of. The black overseer was not permitted to know of my presence. Uncle Ben was afraid to trust him. But his wife unlocked the gate of the fence which surrounded the house, and took me into the house and directed me to remain there until she called. A very ferocious dog was running loose within the enclosure surrounding the house, and it was with great difficulty the woman could keep him from springing on me while going from the gate to the house. This dog being there was probably one of the reasons why it was thought I would be free from discovery and could remain in the house undisturbed. I was kept in this house three days and nights, and being for that long sheltered from the cold and damp night atmosphere, my health was much benefitted. Fearing too long a stay there might prove disastrous, we again worked our way back to a point over the river a few miles east of Louisburg, and not very far from my former place of abode in the forest. At the expiration of a few days more, it being probably eighteen or twenty since first striking the district, I was called upon to get out in a hurry.

During my stay in this neighborhood, I learned there was a northern man living at Louisburg, who had located there before the war, and who was anxious to communicate with me. He had remained true to the Union, and, through some disability, had escaped being conscripted into the southern army. He sent a letter directed to some friends in the north, and asked that I should carry it through for him. In a note accompanying the letter, he said he would be glad to have an interview, but realizing the danger connected with an attempt to visit me, he concluded to waive the desire. He held a position as a teacher in an educational institution of that place. I was compelled to destroy the letter some days later, when there was danger of my again falling into the hands of the rebels. Rumors which reached me that the people had learned there was a Yankee in the country, and that search with blood hounds might be made, had a tendency to hasten the start.

Blood hounds! All who have a knowledge of the character of this savage brute will be able to form some idea of the horror which the very mention of them would create in the mind. To explain more fully, I will say that the night before I started, an old aunty, probably sixty years of age, came to my dwelling place and said that the day before she had been tied to a post and lashed on the bare back. For proof she insisted on my examining her shoulders. I found them cruelly bruised and lacerated. Having heard of my presence, she concluded to visit me, with the hope that I might suggest some means by which she would be relieved of such torture in the future. I was persuaded, partly by her pleading, and partly by a sincere desire to aid her, to write her a pass. I signed her master's name to it. She secured the materials for the purpose. Everybody in the South in those days had to have a pass. She evidently left her home early the following morning. Armed with her pass, she concluded she would be safe under its protection. She was arrested during the day while loitering around Louisburg; and in the investigation which followed the pass was proven fraudulent. I had friends who were watching the proceedings, and the news came to me with the speed of the wind. It was feared she might be compelled to betray me. At any rate, it was considered the part of wisdom for me to strike out, although I was yet quite feeble, at the earliest convenient moment. In order to prevent the possibility of being overtaken by blood hounds, we proceeded to the river bank as soon as darkness appeared, and, with as much haste as possible, constructed a rude boat from material found in the bushes, and which had doubtless been used for the same purpose before.

Three of my faithful friends were there--Ben, and Dick and Ed. Dick wanted to go along with me and we had some difficulty to dissuade him. I knew if he went along and I was caught with him in my company I would in all probability be shot and he would be flogged severely. At last--probably near midnight--we were ready. I picked up the pole which we had secured for the purpose of managing my boat, and with their "God bless you, massa, wish you good luck," ringing in my ears, I pushed out into the stream. I spent the greater part of the balance of the night on the water. Having worked to the opposite shore I shoved my frail and sometimes unruly craft along until near morning, when I abandoned it and took to the brush. I have no idea I made a very great distance by water, and yet, for reasons above stated, it was a wise thing to do.

It must be understood that I would always hunt a hiding place as soon as daylight appeared. As evening twilight came on I would sally forth, and if needing information, would first hunt up a black man. I never attempted to travel by day. The cabins of the black people were built of logs, having but a single room on the ground floor, and sometimes there was a loft made, boards being thrown over the ceiling joists, covering half the room, more or less. This upper apartment was used for the purpose of storing away articles which could not well be kept below. It was usually reached by a ladder.

On this day I sat around, passing the time taking short naps, and in the interval nibbling at the corn bread which had been supplied by uncle Ben. I was beginning to feel strong again, and was thrilled by thoughts that I would now soon be at home among friends, and then back with the boys at the camp-fire, participating in their amusements and sharing in their triumphs.

That night, soon after starting out, I ran into the vicinity of a cluster of cabins, and loitered about watching for an opportunity to see what kind of people occupied them. In the course of time a man came out, and I was near enough to see by the moonlight that it was a black man. After some figuring I hailed him, and making myself known was invited into the house. I was in there but a moment when a noise was heard on the outside. The man pointed to the ladder, and I sprang onto it. I struck the rung heavily; it broke, and in a moment Yankee and ladder were tangled up on the floor. While in this situation, with the occupants of the house looking in consternation at the picture before them, the door opened, and in stepped a man and woman. Fortunately they were friends of the family, who came as visitors. To say that I was mortified at the awkward predicament, but poorly expresses it. Explanation made everything right, and I soon shook the dust of that cabin from my feet, and never again repeated the mistake of going into one. The tramp that night was uneventful. As usual, when time arrived to put up for the day I went around looking for a proper place to locate and go to bed.