Chapter 13

THE ESCAPE--I TURN OVER MY TENT AND HOUSEHOLD EFFECTS TO COLONEL MILLER AND ADJUTANT LYMAN--CRAWLING ACROSS THE GUARD LINE--OUR ESCAPE DISCOVERED AND WE FIRED UPON--CAPTAINS GEERE AND EASTMOND RECAPTURED--TRAMP, TRAMP, TRAMP.

There was one of the guard, who had come with us from Charleston, and to whom I had sold my watch, who had become quite attached to me, and had always been ready to do me a favor, when he could. From our frequent interviews, I had been led to believe that he was strongly tinctured with unionism, and thought perhaps he could be induced to give me a chance to escape, if he could do so without danger to himself. Finding him on guard the 12th of October, at the northwest corner of our camp, which was the best place on the line to cross, I wrote a note to him, offering him fifty dollars if he would let me and some of my comrades cross his beat that night.

Wrapping a small stone in this note, I sauntered along near where he was pacing his beat, and, watching my opportunity, when none of the other guard were looking, tossed the note to him and sat down under the shade of a small tree to await the result. It would be impossible to describe with what feelings of hope, doubt, anxiety, and fear I awaited the answer to this note, as he paced his beat carefully reading it.

If he consented, I was free; but if he refused and reported me to Captain Semple for attempting to bribe him, there was no telling what would be my punishment; for attempting to bribe a sentry on duty was no slight offense. The stake for which I was playing was a great one, and the hazard was equally great. It was liberty on the one hand, and perhaps death on the other. No wonder then that the moment was an anxious one.

After carefully reading it, he walked to the farther end of his beat and wrote on the back of the note, and wrapped a stone up in it, and, on his return, when opposite where I sat, after cautiously glancing around, tossed it back to me. This act satisfied me that my secret was safe, at least; but when I read his answer, my gratitude to this noble friend was greater than I could express. He wrote: "I do not want your money; but if you will come just as the moon goes down and throw a pebble at my feet I will leave my beat; but be very careful not to make any noise." With a joyful heart I hurried to my companions to tell them the good news.

That was a busy day for me. I bought some flour, sweet potatoes and meat, and commenced making biscuit, roasting sweet potatoes, and frying meat to fill our haversacks. This, with our slight conveniences for cooking, was no easy task. I made two dozen biscuits; and this, with our other provisions filled our haversacks, and together with our blankets, overcoats, etc., was about all we could carry. Having completed our preparations, I went to where Col. Miller and Lieut. H. H. Lyman had taken up their quarters, which consisted of a dry goods box with one end knocked out, and about half long enough to cover their bodies. They were both too ill to build a brush tent as I had done. I told them that I was going to take a walk the next morning, and asked them to move into my tent, and if I was brought back I would take it back, but if not, then it was theirs, together with the mattress, extra blankets, and cooking utensils.

We then lay down and took a good sleep and rest, waiting for the moon to set, which would be at three o'clock.

By that hour we had eaten our breakfast, picked up what we intended to carry, and cautiously, one by one, gathered under a tree, a few feet from the dead line, where, concealed in the shade, we could plainly see my friend pacing up and down his beat. When the moon had disappeared long enough so that it was quite dark, I tossed a pebble, which struck right at his feet, at which he said in a low tone, "all right" and walked away, and commenced talking to the other sentry.

This was our opportunity, and lying flat on the ground, we crawled across the guard line like so many snakes. There were seven of us, viz.: Captains Geere, Hock, Eastmond, Hays, and Cratty, and Lieutenant Winner and myself. Having all got across, we raised up and stole softly away. We had not gone far, however, before some one stumbled over some dry brush in the darkness, which made considerable noise and attracted the attention of one of the guard, who immediately sent a bullet in our direction and called out lustily: "Corporal of the guard, post number fo." This was followed by other shots; but they could only shoot in the direction of the noise, and if ever seven fellows made good time, we did for about half a mile, till we gained a small patch of woods. We did not stop here long, but getting our direction, we made for another and larger woods about three miles away.

We entered these woods just as it was getting light; and making our way far into its dark recesses, made our camp for the day. We could plainly hear the reveille in the prison camp, from where we lay that morning, and would not have been surprised to have heard the dogs on our trail that day. But the dogs had been kept pretty busy for the past few days, and were perhaps busy then, following some other track. We spread down our blankets and took a nap for an hour or two, and then after eating a light breakfast, commenced perfecting our plans for the future.

We each cut a good, stout hickory staff, and then agreed upon our manner of march. Captain Geere, who had escaped once before and been recaptured, was chosen leader, and we were to march in single file, about ten paces apart, Geere first, Eastmond next, myself third, and the others behind. If the leader saw any danger, he was to raise his hand as a signal for all to drop down; and if he wanted to consult, he would stop and wait for us to come up.

The moon was full, and shone brightly nearly all night; so that when we were in the open road, these signals could be plainly seen by the man next behind, who was to raise his hand, and so pass the signal back to the rear. About ten o'clock that night we started for the road, which we had reconnoitered and found during the day. We had nearly reached the road, when we heard a dog baying as though on a trail of some kind, and also heard the voices of men shouting to him. Making quite a long detour, we again approached the road, this time where the timber was sparse, and the greensward soft beneath our feet. Captain Geere had just reached the middle of the road, and Captain Eastmond was near the edge of the woods, when suddenly a large white dog, with a loud bay attacked Geere. I was near enough to see Geere swinging his stick in front of the dog to keep him off, and dropped flat down. I saw two armed men come up and silence the dog, but waited for no more, and stealthily glided away as fast as I could, back into the woods.

The greensward beneath my feet, the barking of the dog, and the loud talking of the men, prevented them from hearing me, and I assure you it was not long before I was out of their hearing, no matter how much noise I had made. I was all alone, and did not know in what direction I was running, I only knew I was getting away from the sound of that dog. I had run, I should judge, about a mile, when I again came to the road and crossed it. Soon getting into a swampy piece of ground, I climbed over fallen trees, plunged into mud holes, tore through brier bushes, and stumbled over stumps, and finally sat down, completely out of breath, to listen.

It was now about 11 o'clock, and there was not a sound to be heard. After listening some time I again started for the road, feeling that I must make the balance of the tramp alone. I soon found the road, and then put in some of the tallest walking I had ever done, knowing that every stride I made was a stride towards safety. I had walked about five miles, as near as I could judge, and had just come to the open country again, when from the fence beside the road just behind me, I heard my name spoken; and knowing that no one but my comrades would know my name, I at once halted and answered. It proved to be Captain Hock and Adjutant Winner, who had heard me coming and waited for me.

We pushed on rapidly, knowing that our safety depended on the distance we placed between ourselves and Columbia that night, and at daylight went into camp in a piece of woods about fifteen miles from Columbia. I did not take any blanket with me; but had a good overcoat, which we spread on the ground, and covering ourselves with the blankets of Hock and Winner, slept soundly until about ten o'clock, when we awoke and took our breakfast of two biscuits each, and spent the balance of the day in chatting, smoking, snoozing, etc. About half past nine that evening (the 14th) we started on again, proceeding cautiously in single file, but we did not make more than twelve miles that night, on account of being obliged to make a long detour two or three times, to flank some wagons that had camped beside the road, on their way to market at Columbia.

People going to market there are frequently eight or ten days on the road, camping like gypsies, wherever night overtakes them. They would build a fire beside the road, and cook their supper, picket their horses, and go to sleep in their covered wagons.

In these detours, we sometimes came across a few sweet potatoes, or some corn in the field, which we would gather to roast for our breakfast. In fact, after the third day, our biscuits were all gone, and we had nothing to eat except what we could thus find along the road. On the third night out, my legs began to pain me, and the next morning they were quite swollen and inflamed. This was Sunday, and we camped in a pine grove, near a clear brook; and after breakfast I took a good bath in the cold water, and felt quite refreshed after it. That night, just after we started, we found a guide board, and mounting Captain Hock's shoulders, I got near enough to read that we were thirty-four miles from Columbia, having averaged not quite twelve miles a night.

Being now out of provisions, much of our time was spent in looking for sweet potatoes along the road. Sometimes we would see a nice patch in front of some wayside house; but almost every house had a dog or two, and they ever seemed on the alert for tramps; and it was quite a risk to attempt to dig sweet potatoes with those dogs making such a racket, and we were often glad enough to get away without being detected, and even without the desired potatoes. How those dogs would bark! It seemed as though they would arouse the whole neighborhood with their eternal yelping. I took a solemn oath during that journey that if I ever lived to get free, I would thereafter shoot every dog I could find, and I pretty near kept that oath, too. We were not so much afraid of their biting us as we were that they would be followed by their masters with loaded guns; and often we would make a detour of a mile, rather than have attention attracted to us by those yelping curs.

The fifth night of our tramp was cloudy and dark, so much so that the little North Star, that had thus far been our guide, as well as the full moon that had lighted up our road, was completely hidden from our view, and we were left to grope our way as best we could. In the darkness we came to where the roads forked, and although there was a guide board, it was in vain that I tried by mounting Captain Hock's shoulders and lighting matches, to read the directions, to find which road led in the right direction.

After talking the matter over, and consulting our little map as well as we could by the aid of lighted matches, we took the road to the right, and although it may seem paradoxical, for this once right was wrong.

We traveled on this road two or three miles, when we were satisfied that we should have taken the other fork, but thinking we would come to a road soon that bore in the right direction, we kept plodding along in the darkness and finally in the rain, and when near daylight we went into camp, we only knew we were in the woods somewhere in South Carolina, but in what particular portion of that state we could not tell. Of one thing we were satisfied, and that was that we were tired out and half starved. We spread our blankets on the wet ground and, with the rain falling in our faces, slept as soundly as though our bed was one of down instead of the wet ground.

Awaking about 10 o'clock, I started out on a reconnoissance, and, after carefully skirmishing around for an hour, found that we were near the Saluda river, and that there was a ferry near by, the river at this point being very wide. We did not wish to cross this river, and had tried hard to avoid it, but by taking the wrong road at the forks had run right onto it.

Instead of laying by this day, we started out to try to find a road that led in the right direction. We found some persimmons, which we gathered and ate to satisfy our hunger; but tramped all day in the rain until 4 o'clock in the afternoon before we found a road that seemed to run in the direction we wished to go. When we finally came to a road that seemed to point to the northwest, we pushed on rapidly for sixteen miles before halting, although we were hungry and tired; and when we finally came to another guide board, we found that we were only forty-four miles from Columbia. This was Tuesday, the 18th, and we had left Columbia the morning of the 14th, thus making an average of only eleven miles a day, or rather a night.

We had nothing to eat but raw corn, which we shelled from the cob, and munched as we walked. My legs had now became swollen and inflamed to such an extent that, had I been at home, I would not have thought I could walk a dozen blocks, still we marched sixteen miles that night, and the next morning we went into camp within the sound of passing cars. That night we started out again, but had not gone more than half a mile before we again came upon the river. This was discouraging for, as I have said, we did not wish to cross the river but to go in a parallel direction, and this road ended at a ferry.

There was nothing to do but go back and try to find a road that branched off from the one we were just traveling. The country through which we were passing was densely wooded, and the weather was cloudy and rainy, and, after tramping all day and all the next night, we finally went into camp again; but where we could not tell, except that it was in the woods. We had traveled hither and thither for thirty-six hours without anything to eat.

After resting and sleeping until about 11 o'clock in the forenoon, we started out again to find a road. We found a corn field in which some beans had been planted between the hills, and gathered the ears of corn and picked some of the beans, which we shelled and cooked in a tin plate that I had brought along. We were near a spring of water, and, by placing the tin plate on three stones and building a fire with twigs under it, we could, by frequently pouring in water from a tin cup, manage to keep them from burning until they were soft enough to eat. It took a good deal of time and patience to cook enough for three in this way; but by working faithfully all day, I cooked enough to make us think we had had quite a dinner.

During the day, Captain Hock in skirmishing around the woods came across four or five shoats and an old sow feeding on the nuts and persimmons, and tried by shelling corn to coax them near enough to knock one over to cook for rations; but they were so wild he could not get near enough to capture one. He worked a long time to gain their confidence; and they would come within a few feet, and then, with a loud snort, would scamper off into the woods again, patiently followed by the Captain. Finally, however, he was obliged to give up the chase, and the prospects of a good dinner vanished.

About four o'clock we found a road, and then completely tired out, we lay down and slept. It was nearly midnight when we started on, and then it was with difficulty that I could walk at all. My legs gave me such pain that it seemed as if they would break off at every step. They were swollen to three times their natural size and were so inflamed that I thought I would be obliged to give up. The agony I suffered that night can never be told, but I would not let my comrades halt for my sufferings, and they would not go on without me--God bless them! They would not desert me, but rather stay and share my fate, whatever it might be. I never can forget those two noble comrades, who so faithfully stood by me, when, by leaving me behind, as I begged of them to do, they, who were strong and hearty, could have made double the distance I could make in my enfeebled condition.

We soon found the railroad, and knowing that it would take us to Knoxville, where we were making for, we started along the track. Although my sufferings were almost unbearable, I trudged along uncomplainingly, for I would not impede their progress; and when, shortly after, we came in sight of a covered bridge, which we thought might be guarded, I volunteered to make a reconnoissance, for I thought it better for me to be re-taken than either of them.

Fortunately, there was no guard at the bridge, and we crossed. Captain Hock was obliged to crawl across on his hands and knees for fear of falling, as there was nothing but the ties and stringers to cross on and it made him dizzy to walk upright. After crossing this bridge, we came to a sweet potato patch and filled our haversacks so as to have a breakfast.

Just at daylight that morning, we met a negro going to work in a mill; but, as we were afraid to trust him, we did not speak except to say "good morning" as we passed. This was the first person, black or white, that we had met since our escape, and we had then been out six days. We went into a piece of woods near by, and I cooked sweet potatoes in that tin plate nearly all day to satisfy our appetites.

We had our camp this day in a small thicket near a sweet potato field; and, knowing that we could lay in a good supply after dark, we cooked and ate all we wanted of our former supply. It kept me pretty busy cooking them in that tin plate, as I was obliged to slice them up and then keep adding water as it boiled away; but we managed to make out a good dinner, and then lay down and slept until nearly dark. We made our supper on some of the potatoes that I had roasted in the hot embers, so we had a variety that day, boiled sweet potatoes for dinner, and sweet potatoes roasted for supper. After supper we went into the field, and filled our haversacks for the next morning's breakfast. It was hard digging, as the soil was gravelly, and we had nothing but our fingers to dig with.

If any one thinks that a peck of sweet potatoes is not heavy, let him try carrying a peck all night, and walk the railroad ties. This, the seventh night, we started out early, taking the railroad track, which would take us direct; but it was hard walking, and especially for me, as my legs were so swollen and lame. I had been obliged on account of my swollen feet and limbs to cut off the legs of my cavalry boots, and split down the vamp nearly to the toe, to make them more roomy and comfortable, for my stockingless feet.

I used to think during that tramp on the railroad, how much better walking it would be, if they would place the ties straight across the road bed, and at an equal distance apart, say about eighteen inches, instead of putting every third or fourth one on a bias. We dis-_cussed_ this thing pretty thoroughly during the time we were engaged as track-walkers between Columbia and Wallhalla, and came to the conclusion that a reform was necessary, in this regard.

We were continually obliged to take one or two short steps and then a long one, and if the reader does not believe that to be tiresome, let him try it for two or three hundred miles, and he will believe that I am right, and that I know something about how railroads ought to be built for foot passengers. At any rate, I was so completely used up by one o'clock that night that I tried to have my comrades go on and leave me to try to get some negro to take care of me until I was able to resume my journey. I told them that it was impossible for me to proceed; but they said they would go into camp there, and see what success I met with in finding shelter.

We went into a piece of woods near the railroad and in sight of the village of Greenwood, S. C., at one o'clock in the morning, and lay there all day, watching for some negro to come along the road, which here ran along the railroad. Towards night, I walked out to the railroad, and saw a negro coming along on horse back. I sat upon the fence with my blue overcoat on, and the following dialogue took place:

"Hello uncle!"

"Howde massa?"

"Uncle, did you ever see a Yankee?"

"No sah, I spects I never did."

"Well, now, take a good look at me and you'll see one."

"Is you a Yankee, massa?"

"Yes, I am a Yankee, and I want you to help me. You know we are going to make the darkies all free. We are your friends. I have been a prisoner at Columbia, and have escaped to get back North; but I am sick, and cannot go any farther until I get better. Now I would like to go home with you and have you take care of me until I am able to travel again, and I will pay you well for your trouble."

"Well massa, you see I would like to do it mighty well; but I live six miles back, and there's so many chiller bout dare, and all the house servants dey can't be trusted. Our oberseer he's a black man, but he do any ting massa say. I don't dare trust him, and if dey kotch me, dey'd hang me, sure. But ders a collored fellah up the road, 'Free Mitchell,' he'll keep you if you get dere."

After making inquiries how to find "Free Mitchell," and getting as definite directions as it was possible to obtain from a black, which was quite vague, I bid him "good bye," after enjoining the strictest secrecy, and receiving his most solemn promise not to say a word. I went back to my comrades, and reported what I had done, and proposed that as soon as it was dark we should hunt up this free negro, and try and get help.

Soon after dark, we all started and walked two miles to the little village of Greenwood. Thinking by the directions given, that we were nearing the house, Hock and Winner lay down in the corner of the fence to wait until I could find this place of refuge, and, if possible, bring them something to eat.