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THE DISPATCH CARRIER
——
PREFACE.	2
CHAPTER I.	3
CHAPTER II.	13
CHAPTER III.	22
CHAPTER IV.	33
CHAPTER V.	45
CHAPTER VI.	54
CHAPTER VII.	66
CHAPTER VIII.	79

MEMOIRS OF ANDERSONVILLE PRISON
——
CHAPTER I.	1
CHAPTER II.	9
CHAPTER III.	23
CHAPTER IV.	34
CHAPTER V.	53

A THRILLING DESCRIPTION OF THE ADVENTURES
OF A DISPATCH CARRIER IN THE LATE WAR; THE
CAPTURE, IMPRISONMENT, ESCAPE AND RE
CAPTUREOF A UNION SOLDIER—A COM
PLETENARRATIVE OF A SOLDIER'S
INDIVIDUAL EXPERIENCE IN THE
CIVIL WAR, FROM 1861 TO 1865,
AS WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.

PREFACE.

Books, as a general rule, have prefaces. I write a preface to this book,not because I think it necessary, but because it is customary. I did notkeep a diary, and it may be that I have not given the right date everytime, but there is nothing in this book but what is strictly true, andthe most of it is my own personal experience and that of my comrades whoparticipated in my adventures while a soldier. The reason I do not givethe names of my comrades is because they are scattered to the fourquarters of the globe, and I do not know where they are except a few wholive neighbors to me, and I have no right to use their names withouttheir consent.

I will give a thrilling description of my experience as a dispatchcarrier and finally my capture and imprisonment, escape and recapture,and will also give a complete description of being chased by bloodhounds and other incidents too numerous to mention.

CHAPTER I.

At the outbreak of the Great Civil War in 1861, I was 23 years of age, astout, healthy young man, not knowing what it was to have a sick day;had always worked on a farm and worked hard, too. In the latter part ofApril, news was received that Fort Sumter had been fired upon; everybodyacted as if they were crazy; all wanted to enlist. I was one of thefirst to enlist in a three months' regiment, but that failed to go onaccount of not having arms, so I was forced to go back to my home, whichwas four miles south of Belvidere, Ill. In September, 1861, they startedto get up a company of cavalry at Belvidere. I was one of the first toenlist in that, after which I was appointed sergeant. We were sent toCamp Douglas, Chicago. It did not take long to fill up our regiment,neither did it take long to get our horses and saddles ready; then wecommenced to drill. What a time some of our men had; some had neverdriven a horse in their lives and there is where the fun comes in,especially after we had[Pg 4] drawn our spurs. The next move after we haddrawn our spurs and saddles was when Col. Brackett ordered the bugle tosound the call to fall in for drill. The whole regiment was on hand withtheir horses all saddled and bridled for a drill. You must remember thatour horses were well fed and in the best condition; full of life andspirit. It was all some of us could do to make them keep their place inthe ranks.

"Now," said the Colonel, "When I tell you to mount you must put yourleft foot in the stirrup and grasp the reins and the mane with your lefthand, and at the word 'mount,' all mount together." "Mount" was thecommand. Well, we did make the effort to all mount together but youshould have seen them; the horses started off in every direction,pell-mell over the field; some were dragged along on the ground withtheir feet in the stirrups, while others were on their horses all right,but the harder the horses ran, the harder they stuck in their spurs; onepoor fellow let go all hold and grabbed the head and mane; stirrups flewin every direction and he went straight for the barn. Now our stableswere all three hundred feet long; away went horse and rider, straightfor the center of the barn; just as the horse got within four feet ofthe stable, it came to a[Pg 5]sudden halt, but the rider went on with acrash through the side of the barn; he could not have made a cleanerhole if he had been shot out of a cannon. I must say he came out prettylucky; of course he was bruised and stiff legged for a day or two butthat was all. Some of the men got hurt very severely but it did not takelong for us to find out that we had to keep our toes in and our heelsout. We had not drawn any arms yet and all we had to mount guard withwas simply a stick whittled out in shape of a sword. Our officers wouldnot allow any one out unless they had a pass from the Colonel. Theguards were placed around the camp to keep the men from going out butmany nights did the boys run the guard. If by chance one of the men wasout after sundown, the guard was supposed to keep him out or arrest himand turn him over to the sergeant of the guard, but this was generallythe way it was done around Camp Douglas: Now, here comes some one whohas stayed out after roll call; he comes straight up to the sentinel;the sentinel speaks first: "Who comes there?" now if the man has beenout on permission, of course he has the countersign; then he will answerback "A friend with the countersign," then the sentinel will say,"Advance, friend, and give the[Pg 6] countersign," and after giving it thesentinel then passes him in, but let me tell you, we did not always goaccording to discipline while we were at Chicago. This is the way we hadamong ourselves: Now here comes one who has been out too late. "Halt!who comes there?" "A friend with a canteen." "Advance and draw thestopple." The next thing you will see the sentinel look toward heaven,and hear a gurgling sound as of something going down his throat, thenfinally a pair of lips would smack. "The countersign is correct, you maypass in."

We had a great many ways of amusing ourselves, some played cards, somefoot ball, some one thing and some another, but after all the time hungheavy on our hands for we were all anxious to get into active service.The first of February, 1862, we got marching orders for St. Louis, Mo.Our officers then gave us passes to go home, it being our last chancebefore leaving for the field. I never shall forget that last visit: howmy old mother, wife, and two little ones followed me to the train, howmy blessed old mother put her arms around my neck and while the tearswere running down those old wrinkled cheeks, called on God to bless herboy. Oh, that parting! how can we forget it, comrades? to pick up thelittle ones and give them one long[Pg 7] last hug, good bye, wife, littleones, mother, and we were gone: yes, gone. The next thing was the shrillscream of the engine and we commenced to move slowly out of the depot.The train was mostly loaded with soldiers, all leaving homes, going tofight for their country. There was no screaming or yelling, for they hadjust parted from their wives, mothers and homes, perhaps never to seethem again.

Now just look over the coach of young soldiers in the first flush ofmanhood; can they all get back to their homes? No, reader, not three outof five.

On we went, every one of those young soldiers knew what they were goingfor; one could see by their sober, determined faces that they hadweighed their chances and had given all for their country.

When we arrived at Chicago, we found everything in a great state ofexcitement. We were to embark our horses, equipments, and board thetrain for St. Louis. All was hurly burly; we had to blindfold our horsesin order to get them on the train; finally, all was ready and away wewent for St. Louis.

On the 16th of February, 1862, we started for Benton Barracks. At Alton,Ill., we boarded a steamboat for St. Louis; after arriving there[Pg 8] wesaddled our horses and took them off on the levee, mounted, andcommenced our march through the city for Benton Barracks. The streetswere lined with people and as the flag bearer unfurled our regimentalflag, and as it floated out on the breeze, you could plainly read inlarge gold letters, "Ninth Illinois Cavalry." We could hear on everyside, "What a splendid regiment!" I think I have every reason for beingproud of my regiment; all were fine looking young men, fine horses, andas fine a Colonel as ever drew a saber. Col. Brackett was as true andbrave an officer as ever wore soldier straps, as the reader will findout if he follows the pages of this true narrative.

As we marched through the streets of St. Louis some hurrahed for theNinth Illinois Cavalry, while others cursed us to our faces and someyelled, "You won't sit so straight in those saddles when you get downSouth; you will find lots there that are only two by six." That meant wewould find our graves. We paid no attention to their taunts but kept onup through the streets. While we were on Fourth street a woman thrusther head out of a window in the second story, and exclaimed, "Hurrah forthe Ninth Illinois Cavalry and the girl I left behind me!" That set theboys all in good humor, and[Pg 9] we arrived at Benton Barracks without anyfurther adventure worthy of note.

The Barracks were somewhat in the shape of a square, only a good deallonger than it was wide. They were built to accommodate about fiftythousand troops. The parade ground covered one hundred acres, and thebarracks were all around the parade grounds. I do not know just how manytroops were there when we were, but should judge that there were aboutthirty thousand, all waiting for arms, as we had not drawn any as yetourselves.

Our stables were just in the rear of our quarters, and about all we hadto do was to take care of our horses and drill once a day. Sometimessome of our boys were a little quarrelsome, and if a man wanted to fightit did not take long for him to find someone who would accommodate him.Our officers hardly ever interfered; they said it was better to let themfight it out than to be everlastingly quarreling, and it proved to bethe best in the long run, for after we got into the field there washardly ever any fighting among our own men.

Well, the 22d of February came around, Washington's birthday, and therewas a grand parade of all the soldiers of Benton Barracks. Every soldierhad to fall into line to march[Pg 10] through the city of St. Louis. Now,reader, step out of the barracks and take a look up and down the longparade ground; first come the buglers, now the drummer and fifers, thenthe regimental bands, all playing at once; look at the soldiers comingout of the barracks; the parade ground is blue with them as far as theeye can reach, all taking their positions in the ranks. Bugles aresounding, drums, fifes and bands are playing. Then Col. Brackett comesup, "Prepare to Mount!" "Mount!" is the command, and the whole regimentis in saddles. "March," the regiment is in motion. Then Gen. Smith comesalong in front of our regiment. "Well," said he, "I have seen some veryfine looking regiments this morning but I must say that the 'NinthIllinois Cavalry' takes the cake for fine appearance." Now, reader, donot blame us if we did straighten up a little more in our saddles andtry to look more like soldiers.

Away we went; now look back and see the boys in blue coming; firstcavalry and artillery, then infantry, bands playing and flags flying.Oh, what a sight! On we go through the city, which has taken on aholiday garb. Every window is full of flags; every place of businessshows the stars and stripes, and taking it altogether it was a beautifulsight. The 23d of February[Pg 11] we drew our sabers and revolvers. Wereceived marching orders for Pilot Knob, Mo., whither we started to thelower end of the city, and camped out on the levee. I shall never forgetthat night; the first night we had ever camped out. The piercing coldwind from the river with no tents to help break it, chilled us through;no wonder no one slept that night. The next morning we put our horses onthe train and started for Pilot Knob. After arriving we went to camp inand around the place. It was a very mountainous country, one mountainafter another as far as you could see. We divided off into squads, andevery squad had their cooks appointed; we then came down to governmentrations, hard tack and pork, and you can bet it was hard tack and nomistake; you could scarcely break it with a hammer. We pitched our tentsand went into camp life in dead earnest. The citizens told us that theJohnnies had just vacated the place and everybody was on the lookout thefirst night for an attack from the enemy. Out on the picket could beheard shot after shot, it being the first night, it kept the camp in astate of excitement. I do not think there was a rebel within forty milesof us; the pickets simply got frightened at the hogs that were runningaround through the brush.[Pg 12] The hogs felt somewhat ashamed of theexcitement, and after the first night, our regiment came right up totime and every soldier did his duty like a man.

CHAPTER II.

Well, we were in the field at last, and when we were not drilling or onduty, we were either writing to our friends, or climbing the mountainsto see what there was to be seen. Up on Pilot Knob mountain there runstwo tracks for the purpose of running the iron ore from the top of themountain to the bottom where it was melted. The full cars coming down,drew up the empty ones. The mountain is very steep, fully a mile high.Some of the boys of our company would get in the car at the top of themountain, and get one or two of them in at the bottom, and then take offthe brakes; away they came, while the others that got in at the bottomwould shoot up like a sky-rocket. We were doing this one day when theropes broke. If we had been shot out of a cannon we could hardly havegone much faster. Some went one way and some another. I looked down themountain, where there was a large pond and as soon as I got the mud anddirt out of my eyes so I could see, the first thing my eyes rested on[Pg 14]was two fellows fishing themselves out of the pond. They got off theeasiest of any of us, for they simply got a ducking, while the rest ofus were all bruised up. The car that we were in did not go over onehundred feet before it busted into ten thousand pieces. We hobbled backto camp to mend our clothes, and came to the conclusion that if any ofthe rest of them wanted to ride they were welcome to it, for we had allwe wanted.

By this time we had grown somewhat used to camp life; every soldierfound out what was required of him. We soon got orders to march south.We reached Black river after going over lofty mountains and through manysmall towns. It being about the 15th of March when we struck the river,it was bank full and the ice was running at a very rapid rate. As wecame up to the river we stopped for a few moments to arrange ourblankets to keep them from getting wet and then we plunged in, with Col.Brackett taking the lead. "Come on, boys," was his command. We allarrived safely, but somewhat wet; our horses had to swim for about twohundred yards. The stream was about three hundred yards wide at thispoint. There was a Dutchman by the name of Sands. He saw a large cake ofice coming straight to him,[Pg 15] and, knowing if his horse was struck itwould drown, he slid off behind and grabbed the horse by the tail andcame out all right. We came very near losing a number of our horses;they were completely chilled, but by perseverance we finally got themsafe to land.

As soon as we were all over three of our companies were ordered tomount. The wind blew cold from the north and of course our clothes werewet clear through, but we were young and did not mind this.

About twenty miles from the place where we crossed was a mill where theyground grain and made flour for the surrounding inhabitants. Now at thismill the rebels were stationed; there were about eight hundred, allarmed with double-barreled shotguns. Away we went and when we got withintwo miles of the Johnnies' camp we stopped to give our horses a rest,and then on we went like the wind. We soon came in sight of the mill;close to it was a bridge where a rebel guard was walking back and forth,with an old double-barreled shotgun on his shoulder. He was a goodspecimen of the southern soldier. He was nearly six feet high. On hishead he wore a slouch hat, was dressed in his butternut suit and did notlook as if he had been shaved for six weeks. The tobacco juice[Pg 16] wasrunning down each side of his cheeks, and as we rode up to him he lookedup, shifted his tobacco from one check to the other and said, "Who isyou'ns?" Our captain replied, "We are Yanks. Give up your gun; you are aprisoner now." "I'll be darned! If that don't beat all." He gave up hisgun and was taken back to the rear and placed under guard—the firstprisoner the Ninth Illinois Cavalry had captured.

About half a mile from the bridge was an open place in the timber, closeto the river, and here the Johnnies were camped. They were justorganizing and, of course, did not understand about discipline,consequently did not have any camp guard out. We formed a line of battleand charged right into their camp; some started for the timber, somejumped into the river and undertook to swim, and some few got away, butthe most of them were captured. They were just in the act of gettingsupper; their camp kettles hung over the fires all along the camp. Well,now, let me tell you we were hungry and that supper just came in time,and of course we helped the Johnnies eat it. We captured six hundredprisoners, all their camp equipments, about four hundreddouble-barrelled shotguns and two hundred old muskets and rifles. Wesent word back to camp for wagons and teams to[Pg 17] haul what we hadcaptured to camp; for the rebels only had two teams and they were aspoor specimens as I ever saw.

The "Ninth" came out victorious, and I tell you we were proud; more thanproud, for we had an idea that we could clean out the whole Confederacy,but we soon found out that the Johnnies could fight. We put a heavyguard around our prisoners that night and the next morning marched themback to camp.

This being early in the spring of 1862, of course we had not learnedmuch discipline. We had not been in camp long before thecamp-diarrhœa broke out; there were twenty-five or thirty deaths, butno wonder, for all we had to eat was hard tack, bacon and coffee. Mostof the "ninth" was made up of farmers, and they had been in the habit ofhaving plenty of everything good to eat, and of course coming down tohard tack was pretty hard on us.

Our business while camping at this place was to forage for our horses,but to forage for ourselves was strictly forbidden. If our boys came inwith chickens they had to give an account of how they got them and ifthey could make the officers believe they had bought them and paid goodhard money, it was all right, but if they found out that the boys hadstolen them, they[Pg 18] would be severely punished. I remember one man whocame in with a few potatoes, and as he could not give a straight accountas to how he got them, he was forced to carry a rail that weighed 50pounds for twenty-four hours; but this was in '62. They were not quiteso strict in '63, '64 and '65; but you may depend that while theofficers were watching us, we were always on the lookout for them.

One bright morning three companies of our regiment got orders to go on aforaging expedition, and I was one to go and I was very glad of it, formounting guard and drilling began to grow old and anything new washailed with delight. "Boots and saddles," was the call that rang out insilver notes from our bugles. Every man was in the saddle in an instant.Finally the Major gave the command, "March," and we were in motion. Thelargest part of the command went in advance of the teams. I being asergeant in my company, was ordered to take ten men to act as rearguards, and, of course, we were in the rear of the wagons, so we had agood opportunity to do a little foraging on our own hook. We woundaround hills, forded creeks and finally came to a halt, about five milesfrom camp. The teams were still on the side hill and the main body ofthe men were[Pg 19] in the valley below. Up to our right a short distance fromthe road was a small log cabin with a number of smaller buildings aroundit. Said I: "Boys, do you think there is any chance for getting anythingto eat up there? Now, if someone will stay here and let me know when thecommand starts, we will go and see what's up there." The understandingbetween the soldier and teamster was that if the soldier got anything,and the teamster hid it for him in the wagons and took it to camp, theywere to divide equally.

I took two men and up the side hill we went; rode up to the fences thatsurrounded the buildings and dismounted; one man held the horses whilemy comrade and I jumped over the fence and went up to the house. Werapped on the door, no answer; rapped again, no answer; pulled on thelatch string and the door opened. There was no one there; everything layin all sorts of confusion; chairs, pots and kettles all over the floor,just as if the people had been frightened away. We found nothing to eatthere so we went out to the small buildings; opened one after another,but found them all empty except one, and that one had a large fat calfin it. Comrade Carlyle grabbed him by the neck, I got him by the tailand down the hill we[Pg 20] went. We finally got him to the wagon, tied hisfeet together, and got him in just as the bugle sounded "boots andsaddles." On we went, over hills and through valleys; for about fivemiles; nothing happened within this time only an occasional blat fromour calf. We finally came to a large swamp through which our way led,and we forced one of the natives to pilot us through. Now, dear reader,understand that we were in Arkansas and it was not very thickly settled,so you see we had to go some distance from camp to forage.

Arkansas is almost an unbroken forest; hills and swamps, with no bridgesto cross on. Understand that I am speaking of war times. After we gotthrough the swamp we came to a beautiful island and here were two largeplantations on which was plenty of corn. It was getting late so we wentinto camp for the night close to one of the farms. Now there were lotsof hogs running around, and let me tell you everybody had fresh pork forsupper. Some had chicken, and some turkeys; some had potatoes, and I sawone man that had a piece of corn bread with butter to put on it; let metell you he was getting too high-toned for a soldier. The Major put outa strong guard that night but we were not disturbed. The next morning[Pg 21]we loaded our wagons and after doing so, we started for camp. Everylittle while our calf would give an unearthly blat, and the Major wouldrun back to look under the wagon and on both sides; finally he got backto the rear guard, and said he, "Sergeant, I have heard several timessomething like a calf bawling." "Well, Major, I'll be darned if Ihaven't heard it, too." The Major gave me one look and went back again.

Now for the benefit of the reader that does not understand our armywagons, I will explain them. They were all covered and we hadpartitioned the back part of the wagon off to make room for our calf, sowhen the Major came back examining the wagon, all he could see was thefront part of it and of course that was all full of corn. To say that hewas mystified does not describe it, but when he got back to the front hetold the Captain that some blasted fool of a soldier could blat like acalf. We got back to camp all right and as we had no place to put ourcorn we left it in the wagon and when it got dark we moved our hams toour mess tent and butchered our calf the next morning. Everybody had agood breakfast and the Major ate some of that calf and asked no questions.

CHAPTER III.

We stayed some two or three weeks at this place, then got orders to gofurther south. We arrived at Jacksonport, on White river, and went incamp again. The inhabitants, I might say the whole surrounding country,were the strongest kind of rebels; the town contained about five hundredinhabitants. Just above the town, probably half a mile, the Black andthe White rivers came together and formed a junction, so the White riverwas navigable from Jacksonport to the Mississippi, which was 150 milesby river. About five miles back of Jacksonport is a swamp that commencesat Black river and runs across the country for fifteen miles and emptiesinto White river below the town, so Jacksonport and quite a strip ofcountry was on an island. The reason I give this place such a thoroughdescription is because some very interesting incidents happened here.About fifteen miles above Jacksonport is a small town called St.Charles, and in order to reach the place by the wagon road we had tocross an old rickety bridge, which[Pg 23] was a good half mile in length. Wegot most of our forage in and around St. Charles. This part of Arkansasis more level but covered by a dense growth of timber. Our regiment hadbeen thinned out some by sickness. We had about 800 fit for duty. Everymorning you would see a long string going to the hospital tent to gettheir quinine. A great many of our boys when they got sick would giveup. They did not find mother, sister or wife; no, they did not find homecare, and were exposed to storms with nothing but a thin canvas toprotect them. Then the sick soldier had no delicacies such as motherwould have prepared him. He would hear nothing but rough words. Ofcourse, the boys that waited on the sick did all they could for them,but at the best it was not home. As I said before, some would get sickand home-sick, too, and that kind of a soldier was almost sure to die.When our boys went out foraging they would always bring back somethingfor the sick comrades.

We had one young man in our regiment whom we called Jim. Now this youngman does not live far from me to-day. The reason I do not give his namein full is because his wife does not wish to draw public attention totheir family affairs. This young man Jim was always[Pg 24]foraging for thesick boys. He would slip around the guards and be gone two or three daysat one time. The next thing you knew some one would say, "Here comesJim." Sure enough, here he comes loaded down with chickens, hams, sweetpotatoes, butter, or anything that one could get in the country. Ofcourse they would punish him severely, but that made no difference withJim; as soon as he got loose he would give the guard the slip and awayhe would go again for something good to eat, which he generally found,and gave his sick comrades the lion's share of it. Jim started out onefine morning and as he got to the bridge told the sergeant of the guardthat he had a pass to cross the bridge. He had written it himself, butthe guard knew no difference so he let him go and on he went till hecame to St. Charles. He rode up to a large plantation house, dismountedand tied his horse. Now, Jim was as fine a specimen of a man as onewould wish to see; only eighteen years of age, blue eyes, light curlyhair and a smile always on his face. As he went up the walk he saw ayoung lady sitting out on the porch sewing.

Jim walked up to the porch, took off his hat and made a very polite bow.The young lady looked up, took him in from head to foot, then[Pg 25] went onwith her sewing, paying no more attention to him. Said Jim, "Look here,sis, have you any sweet potatoes, butter, chickens, or anything good toeat? We have some sick soldiers down at camp and I came out to see if Icould buy them something good to eat." Jim did not have a cent in hispocket; his plan was to get whatever he could and skip out. Now, I willgive you a description of the young lady. She was also eighteen years ofage, black eyes that fairly blazed when angry, and when in a good humorthey were soft as a fawn's. She was a regular brunette, fine form,rather below medium height and beautiful black hair that reached withinfour inches of the floor when she was standing. Her name was Virginia LaFord and was called a creole. The girl looked up at him, her eyesblazing, and said, "No sir; we have nothing to sell to the Yankees.""You haven't? well, that is all right, I will help myself," said Jim.Away he went. An old colored woman told him to go down cellar, which hedid, and got a roll of butter, sweet potatoes, and some honey, then hewent back to where the young lady was and said: "Sis, haven't you gotany preserves or any kind of fruit?" Said she, "Young man, I think youhad better look behind you before you go any further." On looking[Pg 26]around, what was his astonishment to see a whole company of rebelsriding up to the front of the house. "Hide me for God's sake, for theywill kill me sure." "Do you think that I am a fool that I would hide youafter you have been robbing me?" "Hide me, please do, and you will neverregret it the longest day you live." "Well, I will hide you." So shetook him away up in the garret and left him there. He crawled aroundsome old rubbish and then lay still as a mouse. In the meantime theJohnnies rode up, took Jim's horse, came in and asked what had become ofthe Yank. The girl told them that he had skipped out to the woods; andafter searching everywhere for him, they took his horse and went on. Thegirl went up and told Jim to come down. "Now," said she, "don't thinkthat I hid you because I thought anything of you or your cause, but Ihid you because I did not want your stinking carcass in our yard; andnow you go, and don't ever show your face here again." Jim made aspolite a bow as he could, thanked her very kindly, and started for camp.At night he came up to my post and told me all his troubles. We took himin, gave him supper, and the next morning took him back to camp. TheColonel soon heard of Jim's mishaps, and began to question him. "Iunderstand you[Pg 27] have run the guard and been foraging on your own hook.""Yes, sir," said Jim, his clear, blue eyes looking straight in theColonel's face. "Well," said the Colonel, "I'll try and keep you in campafter this," and he put a ball and chain on him and kept a strict guardover him. Jim was marched off to the guard camp with a ball and chainfastened to his ankle.

These things may seem cruel to the reader, but let me tell you that ifwe had no discipline you may depend we would not have any army long. Ourboys were punished for the most trifling affairs, and then there weretimes when they were not, when they actually needed it; but as a generalrule our officers sympathized with the soldiers when they went outforaging and were always willing to help eat what they got.

A few days after the irons were taken from Jim I was ordered to go onpicket guard to the long bridge; I hadn't been there long when whoshould come up but Jim, on foot and alone. "Hello, Jim! What brought youout here?" "My legs," said Jim, "and I want to cross that bridge." "Ihave orders to shoot the first man that tries to cross that bridgewithout the countersign," said I. "All right," said Jim, and before wehardly knew what he was up to, he was half way over, running like adeer. My first[Pg 28] thought was that he was deserting. Of course we firedour guns and ordered "Halt," but away he went and disappeared around thebend of the road. About four o'clock in the afternoon we could hear thefaint sound of firing in the distance; it came closer and closer, andaround the bend in the road we could see the dust rolling up over thetrees and the firing grew more distinct. Of course we were always readyfor an attack. We formed a line across the bridge, when all at once aman on horseback came in view. Here he comes right on the bridge. Look!The bridge will go down; see how it sways! On he comes. It is our Jim!He passes us like a flash. Here come the Johnnies. Ready, aim, fire!There goes one Johnnie; he is dragged along the ground by one foot. Ah,he is loose. On comes his horse straight across the bridge. "Give themanother volley, boys." Zip, zip, went the rebels' bullets. Now they turnback; away they go around the bend and disappear.

"Hello, Bill," said one of my comrades, "this is a fine horse of therebs;" he was as wet as if he had just come out of a river. He had beenridden hard and long. Over on the other side of the bridge and on alittle rise of ground, in the middle of the road, lay the rider wherehis[Pg 29]comrades had left him. We walked over to him and found him lying onhis face, with his eyes wide open. Dead? Yes; he was shot in the leftbreast. We moved him out to one side of the road and went back to our post.

Just got back when two companies of the Ninth Illinois Cavalry cameriding up. Capt. Blackburn said, "We heard you were attacked and came toreinforce you." There was no need of that. Before dark a rebellieutenant came riding up with a white flag and wanted the privilege oftaking his comrade away, which Capt. Blackburn gave him.

The next morning when we got to camp, we found the officers all aroundJim, trying to buy his horse. It was a large bay stallion and the finesthorse in the regiment, and Jim rode that horse through the war, and hehas the saddle and bridle to-day to show his friends.

Well, in this attack was the first gun powder that I smelled, and thefirst man that I saw killed; so the very next day I wrote home that Ihad seen a fight. Not one of our men got hurt, so it could hardly berated as a skirmish, but before the war was over, you may depend, Ifound out what a real battle meant.

Well, Jim had a horse again and everyone was praising him up, and thiswas the way he[Pg 30] got it. After he left us, he never stopped running tillhe was a good mile from the bridge, then got down to a walk, and aftergoing seven or eight miles, he came to a large plantation house wherethere were nine or ten horses tied to the fence. Jim crawled up closeand soon saw that they were rebels' horses, and the rebs were all insideexcept one who was sitting on the porch keeping guard; or as Jim said,"talking to a mighty good-looking girl." Jim slipped along the fence, atthe same time watching the porch, and when the two there got quiteinterested in each other, Jim slipped up, cut the hitching strap, andwas in the saddle and off like a shot. He got the best horse they had,and also got the horse from the same party that stole his horse. Wefound that out by a prisoner that was taken shortly after.

In about two weeks after this I was on picket at the long bridge again,when Jim came riding upon his fine horse. "Hello, Bill! I have a pass togo over the bridge again." Well, Jim was honest this time. The doctorgot a pass for him to go out for food for the sick soldiers, and therewas no one in the regiment that could beat him for that. "Good-bye, Jim,don't let the rebs get that horse from you while you are sparking.""Look out for yourself." Most every[Pg 31] one of the boys had something tosay to him as he crossed the bridge. He went straight up to St. Charles,rode up to the same house where he lost his horse. The same young ladywas sitting where he last saw her, and he walked up to her, made a verypolite bow and said, "How do you do, sis?" And she replied, "I thought Itold you never to come here again." Jim looked at her and said: "Nowlook here; listen to me for one moment. In the first place I love you,and want you to be my wife. I have thought of you, and dreamed of you,and the fact is you are here between two contending armies; you areliable to be burned out, then you would have no place to go to. Now, wayup north in Illinois I have a nice little home, and one of the bestmothers living there all alone, out of hearing of the war; all is peacethere, and I want to send you to my mother to be a daughter to her; Iknow she will love you for her son's sake, if nothing else." What girlcould resist such pleading from such a handsome young fellow as our Jim?She looked up at him and seeing he was in dead earnest said: "When wouldyou want me to go?" "Right away; there is a lady from our town who isgoing back to-morrow, and you can go right home with her." "I will go inand see what mother says." She slipped in the[Pg 32] house, while Jim stoodtwisting his hat in his hands as if he was going to make a rope of it.Presently the girl came to the door and told him to come in, which hedid, and found the old lady sitting in a rocking chair. As Jim went inthe old lady looked up and told him to be seated. She asked him a greatmany questions about his home and mother, to which Jim answeredsatisfactorily. The old lady stepped out so Jim and the girl could talkover their affairs alone. Said she: "Young man, you are a stranger to meand an enemy to our cause; I do not even know your name, but I willmarry you on two conditions—one is that you will let my mother go withme, and the other is that I am not to be your wife in the true sense ofthe word till this war is over, and then I want it understood that if Isee anything in your character that is obnoxious to me, you are to bringme home here, and forever leave me alone," to which our Jim gavecheerful consent. They were married by a minister who lived close by,and Jim sent his wife and mother-in-law up to Illinois, and just let mewhisper in your ear, dear reader, they are there yet, and you may dependthere is not a nicer family for miles around.

CHAPTER IV.

One fine morning my Captain told me to report to Col. Brackett. I walkedup to regimental headquarters. The Colonel was writing when I steppedinto the tent; he looked up and said, "Be seated for a moment." He soongot through with his writing, folded it up, put it in a large envelopeand handed it to me, saying, "Sergeant, have you a good horse?" Now, myreader, excuse me if I was proud of my horse for there was not one inthe regiment that could outrun or outjump mine. "Well," said theColonel, "you may need just such a horse before you get back to camp. Iwant you to take this dispatch to Gen. Curtis, some thirty miles fromhere, and wait his orders." Anything of this kind just suited me, for Iwas fond of adventure. I went to headquarters and handed my dispatch toGen. Curtis; as he tore open the envelope he told me to stop a moment tosee what it said. After he had read the contents, he looked me over fromhead to foot and finally asked, "What regiment do you belong to?" "I[Pg 34]belong to the Ninth Ill. Cavalry, Co. I." "What is your name?" "WilliamN. Tyler." "Well, I think you are the very man I want. I have a dispatchto send to Colonel Wyman, who is acting brigadier-general at LittleRock, Ark., one hundred and fifty miles south. Now the road is infestedwith rebels; are you willing to undertake it?" "Yes, sir," said I."Well," said the Colonel, "report to me in the morning and I will giveyou instructions and dispatches." Gen. Curtis was a fatherly old man,but very strict. He was all of six feet high, gray eyes and hair. He wasgood to his men and did all he could to keep them in good health andwell clothed, but would punish severely if any were caught foraging ontheir own hook. He gave me orders to report to a cavalry regiment andthey would find me quarters for the night. Early the next morning I wason hand but had to wait until almost noon before the General was readyfor me. He handed me three large envelopes and said, "Now, Sergeant, Iwant you to take these dispatches to Col. Wyman at Little Rock, and waithis orders. If you get in close quarters with the rebels and are indanger of being captured, be sure to destroy the dispatches. Whateveryou do, don't let the rebs get them. My orderly will go across the riverwith you, and[Pg 35] the Captain out on picket post will instruct you when tostart and what road to take." While the General was giving me my ordersall the officers had their eyes bent on me, so you may be sure I wasglad when the General gave the final order.

The orderly and myself mounted our horses and rode down to the river.There was a pontoon bridge out for about two hundred yards, and thebalance of the river was crossed by a ferry boat—what they called arope ferry. It was run by means of a rope fastened from one shore to theother. The men on the boat would draw it by the rope from one side tothe other. Just two days before I got there they were crossing with someartillery and horses, and as they were in the center of the river thehorses got frightened and became uncontrollable, capsizing the boat anddrowning nine men and a number of horses. We got safely across andcommenced to climb the mountain on the other side. Finally we reachedthe top and oh! what a sight met our eyes; we could see for miles aroundto the north, but to the south it was all hills and mountains. My roadlay directly south, so it proved a pretty rough one. When we got to thetop of the mountain and looked down on White river, I could not see howit was[Pg 36] possible for our horses to haul the artillery up the mountain.It looked to me that a horse had all he could do to climb it withoutpulling anything. The picket post was on the summit of the mountain. Theorderly that came with me took the Captain to one side and had quite along talk in an undertone and finally came back to me, reached out hishand and bade me good-bye and told me not to let the rebs get me. Thenhe went back again. The Captain of the guard came up and told me todismount. After giving my horse to a man, I went to where the guardswere sitting around the fire. Some were cooking and some were tellingstories. One tall fellow was telling about being kept in irons for fourdays. He looked up and saw me standing back a little and told me to cometo the fire. "Stranger, the wind blows mighty cold up here on themountain." I walked up and sat down, drank some coffee and ate hard tackand bacon, so had as good a dinner as if I had been in my own camp.

"So they have had you in irons four days?" "Yes, you see the old Generalis mighty strict about our foraging, but the other day we got out ofcorn and it is very scarce around here, so we got orders for a few to goout at a time and scour the country for corn.

"Our sergeant took ten of us and we started out; rode two days and wasjust on the point of coming in with our corn when we met an old darkeywho told us to follow an old blind road and we would find a farm housedown there where there was plenty of corn. We went and found it just ashe said, but only having one wagon it did not take long for us to fillit; then we looked around for something good to eat. I got one ham and apig, which I put in a gunny sack and threw across my horse and startedfor camp. Well, my pig kept kicking and I cut a hole in the sack so hecould breathe; then he put his nose through the hole so he could take aview of the surrounding country; after that he was quiet.

"We got into Batesville all right and just as we were passing Gen.Curtis' headquarters my captain looked up and saw us coming. 'Hello,boys! where did you get your corn?' Of course that brought us to a halt.The captain looked around and saw me with my sack. 'John, what have yougot in your sack?' 'Corn, sir,' said I, and just then that infernal pigstuck his nose through the hole and squealed; now, you bet that fixed me."

Just then the captain of the guard came up, told me to go with him andtook me out to[Pg 38] one side. "Now," said he, "I want to give you yourdirections." So he gave me very plain directions about the route, so Ifelt very confident that I would not have any trouble. "Now, you hadbetter lie down and get all the rest you can. I will see that you arewakened up in proper time, and see that you are provided with rations,for you know it won't do for you to stop at houses for food."

I lay down, rolled up in my blanket with my feet to the fire and wassoon sound asleep, and did not wake up till the captain of the guardgave me a good shake. "It is twelve o'clock, get up and have a cup ofcoffee." I got up at once and rolled up my blanket and was soon ready tostart. The same darkey that took care of my horse was sent along toguide me. The boys that were awake all had something to say and thecaptain's last words were, "Take care of yourself, my boy."

We started. "Now," said the darkey, "no use your trying to ride in disdarkness, for de limbs of de trees brush you off from dat horse, sure."So I followed close to the darkey. It was just a narrow bridle path withblackberry bushes interlaced across it and branches of trees hung downso that I had some difficulty in getting my horse along. Said I: "Thispath has[Pg 39] not been traveled for years." "Hush, you must keep as still asyou can, for we are not a great way from dem rebel guards." That was thefirst I knew of getting around rebel guards, so you may be sure afterthat I went along as still as possible. On we went over fallen limbs,hour after hour, till it was broad daylight. My clothes were coveredwith burs from head to foot, so I got the darkey to scrape them off witha knife and came out on the main road. "Now, mister, I is gone wid youas far as I can go; so you must follow dis main road straight south.Good-bye, sir, hope you will get through all right."

I led my horse out in the middle of the road, examined my carbine andrevolver and found them all loaded and in good order. I mounted andturned south and jogged along slowly so as to keep my horse fresh, so ifI had to I could make a good run. Over hills and lofty mountains I wentall the forenoon and not a Johnnie did I see. I went back from the roadabout half a mile right in the heavy timber at noon, and made a cup ofcoffee and fed my horse with the only feed of corn I had with me. Wentback on the road and on we went until dark. I had traveled all day andnot a living thing had I seen except now and then a squirrel or rabbit.[Pg 40]I was now looking for a place to camp. Finally I came to an old blindroad that led off in the timber; after following this road for about twomiles, I was just thinking about going in the brush and camping for thenight, when all at once I saw a light ahead. The first thought was thatthere was a rebel camp. I took my horse out in the thick brush and tiedhim to a small tree, and crawled on all fours till I got up close to thelight, and found it to be a small cabin. The clay from between the logshad fallen out and there was a bright fire burning in the fireplace, andit was the light of the fire shining through the cracks. I lookedthrough and saw a large fleshy negro woman sitting in front of the firesmoking a corn-cob pipe and humming over some camp melody. I stepped upto the open door and said, "Good evening, aunty." I thought for a factshe would jump out of her skin.

"No, honey, no one lives close; no one lives here except me and my oldman and he's gone out to catch a possum."

I went back, got my horse and put him in an old shanty back of the houseand gave him a good feed of corn and fodder. When I went in after takingcare of my horse old aunty was bustling around getting supper. Just thenthe old man stepped in. He had an old flint-lock gun in one hand and inthe other he had a possum, sure enough. The negro was all of six feet inheight and was just the opposite of aunty. He looked as if the windwould blow him away. His gun was as long as himself and looked as if ithad been made in the year of one, it was so battered up. The stock hadbeen broken many times and tied up with strings, and the old darkeylooked about the same as his gun. No shoes on his feet, and oh! suchfeet it hasn't been my lot to see for many a day. His ankle was right inthe middle of his foot. When he saw me I do not think I ever saw anyonemore astonished than he was then. His eyes looked[Pg 42] like two peeledonions. He commenced to open his mouth and the more he looked the widerit opened. "Well, uncle," said I, "what do you think of me?" "Well,"said he, shutting his mouth, "I don't know." I thought we were in thesame boat as far as that was concerned. Old aunty walked up to him,snatched the possum out of his hand, gave him a smart box on the ear andsaid: "Ain't you got no manners? standin' der wid yer mouf open as wideas a barn door! You don't know nuffin; you make me awful 'shamed. Now,you go and sit down dere and don't open dat big mouf of yours tillsupper. Does ye heah?" I think he heard, for let me tell you, when sheopened her mouth you would think there was a cyclone coming.

It did not take aunty long to take the skin off that possum and cleanit. She soon had it in the skillet with sweet potatoes.

Old aunty passed close to me and saw my saber. "Oh," said she, "what'sdat?" I told her that the right name for it was saber, but most of theboys called it a cheese knife. "For de Lawd sake, is dat what you cutcheese wid?" I explained its use to her, after which she asked me if Iwas a Yankee soldier. I answered in the affirmative. "Now, is dat so? Myold marster told me that you'ns had horns." Now, it may[Pg 43] be that thereader will think this overdrawn, but let me say that most any of mycomrades will corroborate my statement when I say that not only did thenegroes think that the Yankees had horns, but there were a great manywhite folks who would tell us the same thing. I remember on one of ourforaging trips we came up to a very nice farm house, and an old ladycame out and said, "Are you'ns Yankees? why, I thought they had horns."

After old aunty got her curiosity satisfied she stepped to the door andgot two large ears of corn and walked up to the fireplace and threw theminto the fire.

"Yes." So I went out to my saddle-bags and brought in a large drawing ofcoffee. The negroes were highly delighted to get some coffee, and so wasI to get as good a supper as I got that night. Reader, if you ever wanta good meal go south and let some old black aunty cook you some sweetpotatoes and possum together.

The next morning, after I had my breakfast,[Pg 44] I went and got all thecoffee I had except one drawing, and gave it to the old woman. I askedher how they came to be living away out there alone.

"Well, I tell you: my old man is the rail-splitter, and my old mastersent us to split rails, and dat is all we does."

CHAPTER V.

I thanked the old lady for her kindness and rode back to the road again,went over hills, forded creeks, passed farm-houses, but not a rebel didI see. I began to think there were no rebels in that part of thecountry, consequently got careless, and through my carelessness camewithin one of losing my life.

It was almost twelve o'clock. Right ahead of me a little way in thevalley that I was descending to was a large frame house that stood closeto the road, and beyond this house about fifty yards was a creek thatwent across the road, but no bridge over it. Now, I thought this wouldbe a good place to eat dinner, so I rode down to the creek, watered myhorse and as there was a large shade tree standing in front of the houseI went back, dismounted, took the saddle off, wiped off my horse and putthe saddle back on. I had brought corn from where I stayed all night. Itook off the bridle and put the feed bag on my horse's nose and wasabout to eat my own dinner when, glancing around, I[Pg 46] saw a negrostanding by the little gate. Said he: "Master, are you a Union soldier?"

"I thought so; well, sir, you is in a mighty bad fix. My master is inthe house and he is Captain, and he has fifteen soldiers with him, andway up on de top of dat hill is a whole regiment of confederates, andthey expect some more every minute on the same road dat you came on. Butsee here now: you go straight through dat creek and you will find abridle path that turns to the left. You go on that path till you come tothe fence; go over the fence and down over the hill till you get down ina cornfield, den you can come by this same road again."

While the negro was telling me which way to go, you may depend I was notidle; I pulled the feed-bag off of that horse's nose and had the bridleon sooner than you could say "Jack Robinson." Now this rebel captain waswatching every move I made. He turned to his men and said, "Now watch meand see how slick I will capture a Yankee." Reader, I will soon tell youhow I found out what the rebel captain said. Just as I had got thebridle on, the captain stepped out with a double-barrelled shot-gun,(and I think the gun must have been loaded half[Pg 47] full, the way itsounded) and said: "Surrender! you Yankee son-of-a-gun." Do not thinkthat I am trying to make myself out brave, but let me tell you it wasfight or die. My horse stood straight between the captain and me, and tosnatch my carbine from the saddle was the work of a second, and Ibrought it to my shoulder. Just as my horse swung out of the way, bothguns went off together. The bullet from my gun struck the stock of hisand glanced off into his shoulder and knocked him down. I was on myhorse in a flash and through the creek we went. The negro told meafterwards that the water flew thirty feet high. I found the path allright, but had to lie down close to my horse to prevent the branchesfrom sweeping me off.

Away we went. I soon came to a fence and threw the rails down andstarted up the hill. I was obliged to lead my horse to the top, the hillbeing so steep. Just as I got to the top the Johnnies were at thebottom, and commenced firing up. When I got to the bottom of the otherside of the hill, they were at the top and commenced firing down. Closeto the bottom was a creek with very steep banks. My horse did not wantto go through and I coaxed and whipped all to no effect. I was about toleave[Pg 48] my horse, when "zip" came a bullet and struck him on theshoulder. He made a spring forward, almost jerking the bridle strap outof my hand. Through the stream he plunged and came within one of gettingaway from me. The corn was just up to my shoulders, and when I gotstarted I do not believe I ever rode so fast in my life. The cornwhipped my feet as if some one was striking me with a cane.

In the meantime the Johnnies had got to the bottom of the hill and wereblazing away at me with all their might. One bullet went through the rimof my hat and another through my coat sleeve. Finally, I came to a fenceagain. Right ahead of me was a low place in it and over we went. When myhorse struck the ground I was all of a foot above him, and came down onthe crupper. I made a grab for the saddle and saved myself from a fall,and I came near losing my horse again.

I was out in the road once more ahead of all the rebels, and rode on forhalf a mile, stopped, dismounted and tightened up the girth. The bloodwas oozing out of the wound in my horse's hip. I looked back up the hilland saw the rebels coming again. I knew they had no horse that couldcatch me if the wound did not affect him. I kept a good mile ahead ofthem,[Pg 49] but every time they got to the top of a hill they would blazeaway at me.

About five o'clock, my horse commenced to get lame and I began to thinkI was gone up. I looked up on the hill ahead of me, and saw soldierswalking back and forth across the road. I reached into my pocket for thedispatches to destroy them when two men rose up from behind the fenceand brought their gun to bear on me and said, "Don't destroy thosepapers." I was caught. I saw that they both had blue coats on, but therewere lots of rebels who wore blue clothes. I asked, "What regiment doyou belong to." "We belong to the Thirteenth Illinois Infantry," theysaid. I never was so glad to see blue coats in my life. The rebels cameto the top of the hill behind me and stopped. They could see that I hadgot to our guards. They fired one volley and retreated. In the meantime,our boys had formed a line across the road, but did not waste powder byreturning the fire. I rode up to the Captain of the guard, and told himI had dispatches for Col. Wyman. He told me to dismount, and get a cupof coffee, and he would see whether the wound my horse received wasserious or not. I rubbed him down and gave the poor fellow some food.The boys in blue got around me,[Pg 50] asking all sorts of questions about mytrip, and I gave them my experience from Jacksonport. They all listenedvery much interested. Finally, one of the men who was standing close tome said, "I'll be darned if there isn't a bullet hole through your hatrim." As the guard was five miles from the main camp, and my horse wasplayed out, I stayed all night, and the next morning rode into camp, upto Col. Wyman's headquarters and delivered my dispatches. When I firststarted in the morning, my horse walked lame, but after we had gone amile or two he did not seem to mind it. The Colonel read over thedispatch and looked at me from head to foot. "Well, did you see any ofthe Johnnies on your trip from Batesville down?" "Yes, sir." "Well,"said he, "the dispatches you brought order me with a brigade back toBatesville. We start back in the morning and you go to our veterinarysurgeon and let him see to your horse and you rest to-day, and to-morrowyou may go with us back to Batesville, and when you get to where therebel captain fired on you, let me know."

As I was wandering around the tent I found my brother-in-law, LewisStafford, and had a good visit with him. The surgeon told me that myhorse would soon be all right.

The next morning, bright and early, everyone was in motion. There wereabout five thousand troops, cavalry, artillery and infantry. We soon goton the road where the Johnnies gave me such a close rub. All at oncethere was firing in front. It did not amount to much, just a smallskirmish; two poor fellows were brought back wounded. The first night wecamped within five miles of where the rebel captain fired on me. Thenext day about 10 o'clock we came up on a high hill and at the bottomwas the plantation house. I recognized it at once as being the one wherethe rebel captain tried to show his men how slick he could capture aYankee. I rode up to Col. Wyman and pointed it out to him. "All right,"said he, "you stay with me and we will make a neighborly call on him."We rode up under the same tree where I was going to feed my horse, anddismounted; walked up on the porch and the same negro stood there. "MyLord! Is dat you? Dem soldiers dun told me dat day hang you on a tree.""Is your master in?" "Yes, sir, you broke his shoulder all to pieces."He opened the door and led us in; the captain lay on a couch, but hadnot had his wound dressed and it had become very painful. One of the men said:

"Yes," (with an oath) "there was a Yankee scout who came along the otherday, and he was just one second too quick for me."

The rebel captain looked at me and reached out his well arm and said,"Shake, stranger, you are a good soldier."

The Colonel sent and had our surgeon dress his wound properly and said,"Now you are fixed all right. You can stay here and no one will molestyou, or you can go with us and have proper treatment."

"Well," said the rebel captain, "let me take my nigger along and I willgo where I can get proper treatment."

They put him in an ambulance and took him along. The nigger told me allthe particulars as we went along the road. He said his master's gun wentoff up in the air, that he hadn't got it pointed at me at all.

We got to Batesville all right. I went up to General Curtis'headquarters and reported. He gave me a dispatch to take to ColonelBrackett, Ninth Illinois Cavalry, my own regiment, back to Jacksonport.I was glad to go back to my own regiment again. It was like gettinghome. I had no mishap but got there all right, went[Pg 53] to headquarters anddelivered my dispatch. "You have got back," said the Colonel. "Take arest to-day, for to-morrow I will send you out on a foraging expedition."

The men were all glad to see me, and they all wanted to go out foragingwith me the next day. They wanted to know all about my trip. I receivedtwo letters from home, and my folks were all well, so I felt all right.

Just as I had finished reading my letters Colonel Brackett sent word forme to come to headquarters. I went. He told me to be seated.

"I have a letter from General Curtis here that you brought in thedispatches, that praises you very highly. He said you were every inch asoldier. I have changed my mind in regard to sending you out on aforaging expedition. We have lost two very fine artillery horses, and Iheard that they were some forty miles north of here. You take one manand start in the morning. Come to headquarters, and in the meantime Iwill ascertain which way you are to go."

CHAPTER VI.

"Jim, you are the very man I am looking for. I want you to be ready togo with me in the morning." I explained what was wanted, and heexpressed a desire to go. I went up to headquarters, and the Colonelgave me a piece of paper with the man's name on that had the horses.

After getting instructions about the road, we started and crossed thelong bridge five miles north of camp, and kept on until noon. Finally wecame to a double log cabin. We rode up to it, dismounted, stepped to thedoor and knocked. For the benefit of the readers who never traveledsouth, I want to explain. All the houses if ever so small, have a porchin front. The double log houses are built separately, about ten ortwelve feet apart, the roof covering the whole building. The chimney is[Pg 55]built on the outside of the house, generally one on each end. They arebuilt of stone or brick, about ten feet from the ground. The balance ofthe way they are built of clay and sticks. A lady stepped to the doorand told us to come in. I asked her if we could get some dinner.

The lady proved to be a Union woman. She was a widow. There were anynumber of Union widows all over the south. They had husbands who were inthe rebel army, but every time any of our forces were around they wouldclaim to be Union women and call for protection, and do not forget it,our officers were always on hand for protection.

She gave us chairs and told us to be seated. She was a great talker, andasked us if we were married, and if we had children. Jim told her thathe hadn't been married long. Then she wanted to know if his wife waspretty and any amount of similar questions. All the time she was gettingdinner her tongue was running. She told us that she had a large farm,was out of debt, and if she could get some real good man she didn't knowbut that she might be induced to marry again. I asked her it she knew ofa man up north twenty or thirty miles by the name of Smith, for that wasthe man who had[Pg 56] our horses. She said she had heard of the name. We thensettled for our dinners, mounted our horses and rode on.

We had not gone over a mile before we came to a swamp. It was about twomiles through. It had a corduroy bridge, that is, logs about two feet indiameter, and twelve feet long, laid side by side. The water was abouteighteen inches deep. Some of the logs were floating. When our horsesstepped on them they would sink. We went on until we got about half wayacross, and came to a place where three of the logs had floated out. Ifby accident our horses should get in the swamp, it would be almostimpossible to get them out. You could take a ten-foot rail and push itthe entire length in the mud. We got down from our horses and afterabout two hours' work, got the logs back to their places. Away off inthe timber we heard the distant sound of thunder. The air was stifling.The trees on each side of the bridge interlaced overhead. It was almostdark, so we had to ride very slowly. The road was getting worse andworse, and clouds had covered the whole heavens. About three o'clock itbegan to get dangerous to ride, so we dismounted and led our horses.There came a flash of lightning, and we could see that we were almostover[Pg 57] the swamp. Great drops of rain began to fall.

"There is a house," said Jim. Sure enough we were over the swamp andclose to a large house.

We had just got in a large log barn when the storm broke in all itsfury. You could hardly see twenty feet, the trees falling in everydirection. For two whole hours the storm raged. In all my experience Ido not think I ever saw so much water fall in so short a time. It beganto get lighter and lighter; we could see small patches of blue sky, andfinally it ceased raining. When the sun came out again it was prettywell down in the west.

"Well, Jim, you wait here and I will go in and see if we can stay hereto-night." I walked up to the house and was just turning the corner whentwo large hounds made a jump at me. To draw my saber was the work of asecond. We always carry our pistols in our saddles, and consequently Idid not have mine with me. The dogs kept just out of reach until onemade a jump at me and almost got me by the legs. I brought my saber downacross his back and almost cut him in two. Crack! went a pistol. Ilooked around and there stood Jim with a smoking revolver in his hand,and the other dog lay quivering on the ground.

I was almost tired out; yes, and the old man was looking out of thewindow all the time, and never made one effort to call them off.

We never waited to rap, but opened the door and walked in. An elderlyman, probably fifty, sat in a chair, and a young lady sat on theopposite side of the fireplace sewing.

"Well, sir, those dogs were mine, and they were kept on purpose to keepsuch fellows as you off."

"Well, old man, they failed that time, and let me tell you that justsuch fellows as we want to stay here all night, and would like to havethe young lady get us some supper. Jim, you go see to the horses and getmy carbine and revolver."

The girl looked up to her father to see what he had to say. The old manlooked at us and said:

"Now, that has nothing to do with the case. Do you call yourself agentleman and stand and[Pg 59] see your dogs tear a man to pieces? There isonly one thing about this matter: I want to know, miss, if you will getus some supper."

"Well," said the old man, "you might as well get them something to eat,for if you don't they might burn the house down."

"Jim, you stay here to watch the old man and I will go out and see howthings look around here. Don't let him go out of the room, and keep aneye on the girl, too."

I went all around the place, and back close to the timber were two negroshanties. I stepped up to one and knocked.

I walked in. There were eight or nine negroes sitting around, from alittle baby to an old, white-haired man. The old man raised up and said:

"No, thank you; I have no time to sit down. I would like to know ifthere are any confederate soldiers camped around here."

"No, sir; dar am no soldiers camped around dis place, and habn't beenfor two weeks, and[Pg 60] da was Union soldiers dat was here two weeks ago."

"No, sir; I is sorry to say that he is the hardest kind of a rebel. Histwo boys are in de rebel army; and, sir, as soon as he found out thatyou were here, he made me go let the dogs loose. Dem dogs cost my masterfive hundred dollars. Dey was de best bloodhounds in dis part of thecountry."

"Hold on, mister. For de Lord's sake, don't tell master dat I tole youanything!"

I went back to the house and Jim was standing by the door, watchingevery move that was made. The girl had supper ready.

"Keep your carbine in your lap while you eat," said I, and we sat up tothe table and ate a good, hearty supper.

"Now, old man, we do not wish to abuse you or your family, but are goingto stay here to-night, and if we see any treachery on your part yourlife won't be worth a cent. Now, Jim, you go to bed and I will wake youup promptly at twelve o'clock."

There being a bedroom close at hand Jim[Pg 61] went in and was soon snoringlike a bugle call. The girl could not restrain a smile at his snoring.The old man sat smoking his pipe, casting glances over to where I sat.Finally he broke out and said:

"Now, look here, stranger, do you think you are going to sit there andbulldoze me all night and make me sit here?"

"No, sir, you can go to bed just as soon as you please, but I want tosee where you sleep."

"You can't see where I or my daughter sleeps, and I want you todistinctly understand it!"

The old fellow turned as white as a sheet and dropped back into thechair as if he had been shot.

"Now, sir, the best thing you both can do is to keep quiet and not ahair of your head shall be harmed."

Hour after hour passed until the clock struck[Pg 62] one. The old man and hisdaughters were both nodding in their chairs. I waked Jim and told him towatch so the old fellow would not be playing any games on us. I went tobed and to sleep, and did not awake till sunrise. There was an old negrowoman bustling around getting breakfast. We told the man and hisdaughter they could go anywhere in the house, but they must not go outuntil we left. The old man jumped to his feet and turned on me like awildcat and said:

"All right; you need not think that we are going to give you a chance toinform your confederate friends. You know this is all fair in war times.Jim, go see to the horses while I watch."

He soon returned and said that the horses were all right. We then satdown to the breakfast table without waiting for an invitation. Jim askedthe old man if he wouldn't sit up and have some breakfast with us. Theman snorted out with an oath,

Old aunty's eyes rolled around like saucers, and she said, "May de goodLord hab mercy on us all."

The girl sat and watched every move, but had nothing to say. Wefinished our breakfast and started for the door, when Jim turned aroundand made a very polite bow and said:

"We are much obliged for your kindness, and if you ever come our way, besure and call on us." We then mounted and went on; the road was full ofbranches of trees and fence rails, so we had some trouble getting ourhorses along. As we got out into the road, we looked back over theswamp; it was a perfect sea of water. The logs had floated out and leftgreat gaps in the road so it was impossible to go back the same way wecame. We finally came out to a more thickly settled portion of thecountry, and found the roads a great deal better and the people seemedto be more communicative. They told us the man, Smith, lived only ashort distance ahead of us, so we got to his house about noon and foundthe horses all right. The house stood off from the road about a half amile. We rode up in front of the house. There were eight or ten negrobuildings all around the main building. The gentleman came out to meetus in the door yard. "Is your name Smith?"

"Well, we have come after them and you are to come to Jacksonport andour quartermaster will pay you for your trouble."

We found Mr. Smith to be a true gentleman, and a true Union man. He saidhe did not want any pay, that he wanted to do something for Uncle Sam.He called on an old darkey to come for the horses, and told him to feedthe horses and take good care of them.

"Now, you men stay here all night and by morning the water will be downin the swamps so you will be able to get back all right." He told us ofanother way to go back that would take us around the big swamp. Weconcluded to stay, for it did seem to be quite a rest to get among Unionpeople.

Now, my dear reader, let me tell you that when we did come across Unionpeople in the south they were genuine. We were in a Union neighborhood;the last rebel we passed was the man we stayed all night with. Mr. Smithtold us that if we hadn't watched the man he would have played someunderhanded trick on us. The next morning we started back to Jacksonportand traveled until noon, each leading a horse. We stopped at a farmhouse and got our dinner, then traveled on till night. We[Pg 65] could seethat there was another storm coming up fast, but luckily a plantationhouse came in view and we just reached it as the rain began to fall. Theowner of the house came out and told us to come in, which we did,leaving our horses in the care of a darkey. Although the man was a rebelfrom the top of his head to the sole of his foot, he told us that wewere perfectly welcome to his house and that we were just as safe thereas if we had been in our own camp. I must say that he used us well; wehadn't been there over half an hour before supper was announced. The manintroduced us to his family. There were three grown up daughters and theold lady. They had only one son, and he was in the army. As they told usthis, the tears started from the mother's eyes and the girls looked asif they were ready to cry, too. We ate our supper in silence, then wentto the sitting room and talked until bedtime. The next morning weoffered to pay him, but he would take nothing. We then resumed ourjourney and ended it just at twelve o'clock. We got to camp, rode up toheadquarters and reported to Col. Brackett.

"Well, sergeant, we were about to send a company out to look for you, aswe began to think that the rebs had got you."

CHAPTER VII.

The 21st of June, just the day before we got back to camp with thehorses, one of our scouts reported a rebel gunboat to come up the river,so Col. Brackett gave me orders to take ten men and go five miles belowJacksonport and watch for the boat. In the meantime the camp moved tothe piece of land that divides the Black from the White river. We wentbelow Jacksonport to the place stated and settled near a bend in theriver where we had a good view of the river four or five miles. We hadnot been there long before we saw the black smoke rolling up away downthe river. We waited until she rounded the bend, then fired off ourcarbines as we had orders and started back to camp. The inhabitants ofJacksonport had professed to be Union people, but as soon as they heardthat a rebel gunboat was coming up they altered their tune and called usall the mean names they could think of. Our officers had even put guardsover their wells so as to keep the soldiers away. One woman inparticular had given our officers a great deal of[Pg 67] trouble. She was agood Union woman at that, and a widow. She wanted a guard to keep thesoldiers off her premises, and our officers were just fools enough to doit.

Well, we were the last soldiers to go through the town, and, let me tellyou, the gunboat was coming faster than we had any idea of. Just beforewe reached the town she sent a shell over our heads. We soon got inshelter of the town, and the citizens commenced to yell at us. Some saidone thing and some another. Finally we came up in front of where thewidow lived. She was out on the porch dressed in all her finery. As wewere passing she called out:

"Is that what you Yankees call skedaddling?" One of our men turned inhis saddle and said something that made her skip in the house in ahurry.

We rode on until we got to the ferry, which was nothing but an old scowof a boat. We were soon on the boat, and in the meantime the gunboat hadswung around and commenced throwing shells at us. The first shell wentover us; the next struck the water a hundred yards from us, and thethird struck close and threw the water all over us. Our horses becameunmanageable. One jumped overboard and the rest came near upsetting theboat. The one that[Pg 68] jumped overboard swam to shore all right. We landedour horses and one man went back in a small boat and got it and cut therope.

We had two large twelve-pound brass guns, and never fired a shot at theboat. I never did understand why they did not. But I know this muchabout it, we were ordered to mount and get out of there. We went backabout eight or ten miles and met troops coming to reinforce us. The nextmorning we went back to Jacksonport, but found the gunboat gone.

There was a large quantity of sugar stored at this place, and theJohnnies rolled out the hogsheads and spilt the sugar in the middle ofthe road. Our horses waded knee deep in sugar for two hundred yards. Thefarmers came in droves and shoveled the sugar into their wagons likesand.

That night it rained. The ditches on both sides of the road were full ofmolasses. The citizens had a little more manners when we came back;there were no more guards put over wells, and not so much punishinggoing on if one of our men was caught foraging on his own hook.

In a few days after this there were two companies sent out foraging, andsome time in the afternoon we heard firing in the direction the foragershad gone. "Boots and saddles"[Pg 69] were sounded and the balance of the Ninthwas on their way to reinforce. We soon came up with the teamsters whowere driving for "dear life." We passed them and came up to where ourmen had formed a line. The rebels had also formed a line about threehundred yards in advance, and were crowding our men back, but as soon aswe reinforced our men it turned the tide of the skirmish. We drove themback. I do not think it lasted over half an hour and after we gotthrough we had forty men wounded and three killed outright. Thisoccurred June 12th, 1862, and was the first time I had been in askirmish. The rebels were mostly armed with double-barrelled shot-guns.Their loss was eleven killed and thirty wounded. We then went back tocamp.

Skirmishing now became almost an every day occurrence. Two companieswere started on a foraging expedition down White river. After they gotten or twelve miles below Jacksonport two companies of rebels came up onthe other side. As soon as they came in sight of one another they openedfire. The river at this point was five hundred yards across. Finally therebels ceased firing, and one tall rebel stepped out from behind a treeand hollered over to our men and said:

"I will dare any single Yank to step out and have a fair, open stand upand fight with me, and we are to keep on firing until one goes down."

Out jumped our Jim. "All right, Johnnie, are you ready?" Now, both sidescased firing and looked on with interest. Jim was a splendid shot, andas cool as if shooting at a target. Both guns went off at once. TheJohnnie called over, "Are you hit, Yank?"

Jim took particular pains in loading. Both brought their guns to theground together, reached and got a cartridge together, and pulled theirramrods together. The Johnnie pulled his out with a jerk and it flew tenfeet away. By the time he had regained it and straightened up, Jim's gunwas loaded. He brought it to his shoulder, took steady aim and fired.The rebel brought his hand to his breast with a slap and down he went.Just at this moment the rebels got a large reinforcement with artillery,and we were forced to fall back. A few days after, a rebel deserter cameto our camp and told us that the rebel who fought Jim was in a fair wayto get well, and that the bullet had struck in the center of a largepackage of letters that he had[Pg 71] in his breast pocket and only made aslight flesh wound.

We then returned to camp. It was getting late in the summer, and thecountry was infested with small bands of guerillas. A great many of themwere fighting on their own hook, that is, they were nothing but robbers.They robbed the southern and Union people, and if they happened to runonto a small company of Union soldiers whom they could overpower bynumbers, and take them prisoners, they would march them out into thewoods and shoot them. Such fellows never came out in an open fight, butwere always sneaking around in the brush, and that is what gave them thename of bushwhackers. If by accident one of our men was caught alone bythe bushwhackers we never heard of him again. They would take him out inthe woods and shoot him, pull off his clothes, and leave his body to bedevoured by turkey-buzzards, and that is why so many rebel soldiers weredressed in blue.

The women folks were even worse than the men; they poisoned the wells,and poisoned provisions and left them where our boys could easily findthem, and at the same time rebel planters would call on our generals forprotection. As sure as they found out that our army[Pg 72] was coming thatway, they would want a protection guard to keep the Yanks off theirpremises, and our officers would almost always grant their request.

One nice morning I had orders to report to headquarters. As I came up infront of headquarters tent, Col. Brackett came out with a letter in hishand and said:

"Sergeant, you are ordered to take two men and go ten miles up the Whiteriver to a planter's house and to guard the property while some of Gen.Curtis' men are passing. Allow no soldier on his premises."

I did not like that kind of a job, but orders had to be obeyed; so Iwent down to camp and found Jim and a comrade by the name of Thorne, andstarted for the old Reb's plantation. We got there all right, rode up tothe front of the house and dismounted. There were two men sitting on theporch, one a gray-headed man and the other a young man. They proved tobe father and son. As I went in the gate two young ladies came out onthe porch, followed by a colored woman carrying chairs for them. When wefirst rode up, I noticed that when the young man saw we were Unionsoldiers he was very uneasy. I stepped upon the first step and raised myhat and asked who[Pg 73] was the proprietor. The old gentleman said,

"I am." I handed him a letter and he opened it and examined it a longtime, and finally called to one of the girls and said:

Then the old man turned to me and said, "It may be, stranger, that youcan read this," at the same time handing me the letter.

"Well, sir, this is what it says: 'Gen. Curtis sends his compliments toyou and sends guards to protect your property while the Union army ispassing.'"

In a little while a young darkey appeared, and the man told him to showthe gentlemen where to put the horses. I told Jim to see that they weretaken care of. As they disappeared around the house the old man invitedme to take a chair which old aunty had provided for me. No sooner had Itaken the chair than the old gentleman began telling me how mean our menhad served him; stole his chickens and pigs, and, said he,

Just at this moment Thorne and Jim came[Pg 74] around with the arms. Jimhanded me my revolver and carbine. The house was the double log kind,with a kind of hall between the two houses, and a porch running thewhole length of both parts, facing the road, and stood back from theroad about twenty yards.

Away around a bend in the road to the right over a cornfield we couldsee the dust rolling up over the corn, as if a lot of horsemen werecoming. Said I,

Then I knew that he was no Union man, or he would have no influence withthe Rebs; for be it known that there was not a Union man in the southbut what was spotted, and was as much hated as we hated the copperheadsof the north.

I could see that the young man was watching the cloud of dust with greatinterest. One of the girls jumped to her feet and went in and broughtout a field-glass. The troops now began to come around the bend in theroad.

Our orders were to stay until our troops passed, so there was noalternative for us but to stay. There were about seven hundred[Pg 75]confederates, and all mounted. They rode up in front of the house, andthe planter and his family all walked out to the fence. The rebelColonel dismounted, and we could see that they were talking earnestlyabout us, for they cast glances our way quite often. The rebel soldierswere yelling at us, wanting to know if we had any horses to trade. Therebel Colonel made a motion for me to advance. I stepped out to thegate.

"Oh no, I take you for a Yankee soldier. This gentleman told me that youwere sent as a protection guard, and I want to tell you that you areperfectly safe, as far as we are concerned. Do you know when your menare to pass here?"

By this time quite a number of the soldiers had got over the fence andwere talking to Jim and Thorne. It was getting late in the afternoon,and away off in the west could be heard[Pg 76] distant thunder. The Colonelordered them to mount, and they rode on about half a mile and went intocamp. I noticed that the young man went with them.

Every move that was made by the family we were guarding showed them tobe rebels. The great, black clouds came rolling up from the west. Thelightning was something fearful to behold, and the deep bass thundershook the earth to its very foundation. The negroes were running inevery direction. It could easily be seen that they were terriblyfrightened at the approaching storm. Great drops of rain began to fall.

"Just then the rebel Colonel and two captains came riding up, threwthemselves from the saddle and told the darkey to put their horses undershelter. As the darkey was leading the horses there came a flash oflightning, and a deafening crash of thunder followed so closely that itseemed more like the noise of a cannon. One of the horses rose up on hishind feet and struck the darkey with his front feet and sent himsprawling on the ground. At that all three started up to the rebel campon a run and disappeared round a bend in the road. The old gentleman wasstanding out on the porch. He spoke to another darkey and told him to goand[Pg 77] see if Sam was dead. Just then Sam rose to a sitting position andlooked up and saw us gazing at him and hollered out,

The rain now began to pour down and the wind was blowing fearfully. Thedarkey jumped to his feet and made for a place of shelter. We all wentinto the house. It was getting quite dark. They were obliged to lightcandles. In a few minutes a colored woman came to the door and announcedsupper.

"Now," said the old gentleman, "I want you confederates and you federalsto come and eat at the same table, and I want it understood that thereis to be no quarreling."

As we filed into the dining room we laid our arms in one corner of theroom and sat down to the table. I sat next to a rebel Captain, and therebel Colonel and the two girls sat opposite us. Every time that theCaptain who sat next to me had anything to say it was a slur on theYankees. The rebel Colonel did not approve of his actions, for hefrequently shook his head at him. Finally the Captain said:

"I believe I could lick twenty Yanks alone. I know I could if they wereall like these we have here."

"Well," said Jim, "it was not two weeks ago that one of your menchallenged one of our men to come out and have a square stand-up fightacross White river. He probably thought he could get away with twentyYankees too, but, Mr. Reb, I went out and had a fair fight with him andgot away with him, too, so if you think you can get away with twentyYanks such as are here, you can try me in the morning. If you get awaywith me, you will have two more to try your hand on."

"I want this thing stopped, and want it distinctly understood that therewill be no fighting here."

We finished our supper in silence, and as we were rising to leave thetable, I said,

"My opinion is, you will all get all the fighting you want beforeto-morrow night;" and I proved to be a good prophet that time.

CHAPTER VIII.

We went back in the other room and talked over the prospects of the warwithout any hard feelings. The rebel captain had gone off with thegirls. The Colonel said,

"I will put a guard around the house to-night. We do not want you men togo away until we move on."

I looked out and saw that the storm was over. The old gentleman told uswe could go to bed any time, so it being ten o'clock, we took our armsand followed the old man up stairs. He took us into a room where therewere two beds, put the candle on a stand, bade us good-night and left usalone.

"Now," said Thorne, "I don't like the looks of things here. That rebelcaptain means mischief."

"Well," said Jim, "that old Colonel is all right; he will keep thatCaptain straight, you can bet on that."

Soon after we got in bed, I heard some one talking in the room below us.I slid out of bed[Pg 80] slyly and pulled a piece of the carpet away anddiscovered a large knot hole in the floor. I made a sign for the boys tokeep quiet while I looked through the hole. The rebel captain sat therewith his arm around the girl's waist and she had her head on hisshoulder. She was talking to him about us and this is what she said:

"That Yankee told the truth when he said he had a square fight with oneof our men."

"Yes, the man he fought belonged to my company. He is in camp now and abetter marksman can not be found in the regiment. Now, my dear, can't westudy up some plan to get away with these Yanks?"

"No, pa want let us do anything, for you know he has fifty thousanddollars in gold buried down in one corner of the cellar, and if he didnot have a protecting guard, the Yanks might go through the house andfind it. I know it is hard and mean to have the dirty things here, but Isuppose we will have to stand it."

"I will tell you how we can fix them in the morning. Treat everybody tosome of that nice peach brandy of yours, and put a good dose of arsenicin the Yankees' glasses, and you may be sure that will fix them."

"What will pa say when General Curtis comes along and wants to know whathas become of the guards he sent?"

"You folks can say that they never came and he will just think they havedeserted."

"But you know pa is so particular about his honesty, that he would spoilthe whole thing."

"Your pa would not know what killed the Yanks, and we would take theirhorses and arms and your pa would be so frightened that he would keepstill."

"Oh, the devil with him. I sometimes think he is half Yank by the way heacts and talks. Now, if you will kill these Yanks, you will be doing theconfederacy a great favor. It might not be three days before we get intoa fight with them and they might kill your brother or me, so you see youcan do as much as any soldier if you are brave and do what I want youto."

"Well, I will do it, for it may be as you say, and if my brother and youshould be killed, I wouldn't want to live."

They had a good deal more to say that would not interest the reader. Aslong as we were in no immediate danger, I crawled back to bed and wentto sleep. The next morning, when we woke up, I posted the boys aboutwhat I heard but there was no need of that, for away up toward the rebelcamp we could hear the clash of fire arms—first one gun, then bang!came a shell right over the house. Everything was confusion in thehouse, women screaming, men cursing and negroes yelling. It was aperfect bedlam going on below. It did not take long to go down and outon the stoop and look away up toward the rebel camp. The smoke of thebattle was rising above the trees and the rebel Colonel and the twocaptains were running up toward the conflict and soon disappeared aroundthe bend in the road. The two girls came out on the porch, wringingtheir hands and crying. Just then there came another shell crashingthrough the air and struck in front of the house, plowing a furrow inthe ground and throwing dirt all over the porch. The girls skipped intothe house and shut the door with a bang. The fire now became a steadyroll. Here they come around the bend in the road. They are forminganother line of battle, when crack comes another shell, striking throughthe[Pg 83] top of the chimney, the brick and mortar flying in every direction.Here comes the Johnnies again, the "Yanks" right after them. Bang atbang, pop at pop! See the Johnnies tumbling on every side! See thehorses running pell mell, without riders. Here they go right by thehouse, our brave boys in blue right after them. 'Round the corn-fieldthey go, the fire growing fainter and fainter in the distance. Now theworst part is to come. They commence to bring in the wounded. The firstto come was the rebel Colonel, two of our men bearing him on astretcher. His face was pinched and pale, with the blood oozing out of awound in his breast. One of our surgeons came and gave me orders tobring in the wounded. As we got on the road where the most desperatepart of the battle took place, what a sight met our gaze. All kinds ofarms scattered over the ground. Hats, caps and blankets, here a horseand there a horse, struggling in the agony of death, and men scatteredall over the ground. Here a Yank and there a Reb, some dead, and otherswounded. The rebels suffered the more, for they were taken wholly by surprise.

It was a regular cavalry fight. It was now about ten o'clock, and ourinfantry began to come up. It did not take long to get the[Pg 84] wounded towhere they could get care. Our forces took possession of the rebel camp,capturing all their wagons, tents and baggage. There were thirty killedand one hundred wounded. We lost eleven killed and thirty wounded. Thewounded were mostly taken close to the house, on account of having themclose to the water. The rebel Colonel died before night. We had our tenthousand troops camped within one mile of the house. Now the tables hadturned. We were with our own men again.

I know what my comrade soldiers would say. They would say, "Why did younot go and dig up that money?" No, my dear comrades. I went to GeneralCurtis' headquarters and made a report of everything that happened. Hegave me strict orders to keep a guard over everything and not allowanything to be taken from the premises; but the next morning there wasnot a ham or shoulder in the smoke-house or a chicken on the place, andGen. Curtis himself told the old gentleman that he had better take careof his money, for it was known that he had it. I want to say that thetwo girls did nobly. They did all that they could for the Yanks as wellas the Rebs. We stayed there until the Yankee army passed, and theyoung[Pg 85] lady never offered to treat us to that nice peach brandy. Themorning that we were to go we shook hands all around, bade themgood-bye, and as we were standing on the stoop, Jim spoke:

"We are about to go and you will probably never see us again, and wewould like to have some of that nice peach brandy, but would prefer tohave it without arsenic."

The girl turned as white as a sheet and staggered into the house. Theold gentleman did not know what ailed the girl, but ordered a negro tobring up a bucket full. We filled our canteens and took a good drink outof the bucket and bade them all good-bye again.

We mounted our horses and started on after our men. We came up to therear-guard five miles west of Jacksonport. I rode up to headquarters andreported to General Curtis: For the benefit of the reader who does notunderstand army discipline I want to say that when a soldier ordetachment of men was sent out from camp, it did not matter howimportant or how trifling their mission was, they were expected to go toheadquarters and report as soon as they returned. That was to let theofficers know what success they had, and also to let them see that theywere back again. At this[Pg 86] time the rebel guerillas were concentratingtheir forces at Jacksonport, and the picket post was doubled. The nextday after I got back to Jacksonport I was ordered to take twenty-fivemen and go out to the long bridge in the rear of the town and do picketduty. The guard had been fired on during the night before and one of oursentinels killed. So you may depend we kept a sharp lookout forbushwhackers. Just as we had relieved the old guard and they haddisappeared around the roads, one of my guards came running in from thebrush and said, "There is a lot of young pigs running around out there."We all went out but those who were on post, and through the brush wewent and got thirteen of them; went back, built a rousing fire of rails,skinned and washed our pigs, and stuck them on sticks all around thefire. A sentry hollered to us that Gen. Curtis and his staff were comingup the road. We formed a line of the guards and as the old General cameriding up we presented arms.

"Well," said the General, "this is a very important post; now you mustbe very careful and tear up the planks in the middle of the bridge andpile them up at this end, and if the enemy[Pg 87] come up set the bridge onfire. You can pile up all the brush and rails under this end of thebridge and have it fixed so you can fire it in three or four places atonce." Then the old gentleman looked around and saw the pigs in a linearound the fire and said: "Hello, what have you here, sergeant?" I wasstaggered for a moment, but finally blurted out:

The old General drew his sword and stuck it into one of the skins thatwas close by. He held it up on the point of sword, with the little pig'stail hanging down, and said:

"That beats all the coon skins I ever did see." He tried to keep fromlaughing and look stern, but couldn't; it was too much for him. As soonas the old General could control himself, he turned to me and said:

"Sergeant, don't catch any more of those kind of coons." He rode offlaughing while the whole staff followed suit.

On the 27th of June a large force of rebels made an attack on one of ourgovernment trains near Stewart's plantation, and as we were going to therescue of the train the rebels fired at us. I felt a burning sensationas if a bullet had passed through my head. Everything got dark. I fellfrom my horse. The bullet came so[Pg 88] close that the bridge of my nose wasbroken and made me totally blind for awhile. My comrades carried me backin an ambulance. The whole of Gen. Curtis' army was on the march forHelena. My head felt as big as a bushel basket, and fever set in; then Iwas in a very critical condition. On we went through swamps, over milesof corduroy. The burning sun was enough to kill a well man; there was nowater only what we could get from the dirty swamps. No wonder the mendied at a fearful rate. The enemy had chopped the timber down and filledup all the wells along the road. Some of the time I was delirious,calling for water all the time. Oh, that long, dreary march throughthose dirty swamps! We finally got to Helena and I was taken to thehospital, and from there was sent to Jefferson barracks, St. Louis, andlay there until Sept. 20th, when I was discharged and sent home. Just assoon as I got well and strong I re-enlisted in the Ninety-fifth IllinoisInfantry. The reason I did not get back to my old regiment was that mybrother had just enlisted in the Ninety-fifth, and my brother and Ienlisted and joined our regiment at Vicksburg. Nothing happened of anyconsequence until the spring of '64, then we started from Vicksburg andwent on the famous Red river expedition.[Pg 89] I will not go into theparticulars of this trip, but some time in the near future I will writeon that subject. However, I will give you a few points on the incidentsof March 9th, 1864.

The Ninety-fifth embarked on board a transfer at Vicksburg, and startedfor the mouth of Red river. Gen. Smith had command of our division andwe proceeded up the river. The first place we took was Fort Russey. Wecaptured that stronghold, with three thousand prisoners, arms andequipments. We then went on up the river. There was a good deal ofskirmishing all the way. At Pleasant Hill occurred the hardest foughtbattle of the expedition.

Then commenced the retreat to the Mississippi. We were under constantfire for nineteen days, and arrived at the mouth of Red river on the21st day of May. This ended the expensive and fruitless attempt to reachthe head waters of the Red river.

On the 22d day of May the Ninety-fifth embarked at the mouth of theriver and sailed up the Mississippi as far as Memphis, where we arrivedthe latter part of May.

Now comes the hardest part of my experience as a soldier. I will giveyou my experience, also the experience of others as prisoners of war atAndersonville.

Memoirs of Andersonville.

CHAPTER I.

It is said that we should forgive and forget; but the man who inventedthat saying never was in Andersonville prison.

No, my readers, I purpose to tell you just as nearly as one man can tellanother how the Union soldiers were treated at Andersonville. I shallbegin by my capture, and then take you right along with me through the prison.

About the first of June, 1864, we were ordered out from Memphis to fightthe rebel General Forrest, then operating near Guntown, Miss. We met himnear that place on the tenth day of June, and here occurred one of themost desperate battles I ever witnessed.

A great many think to this day that we were sold out to the Johnnies;and I must say it looked very much like it, indeed.

Our horses, our ambulances, and our wagons were run up to the front. Thefield lay in the form of a horse-shoe, with heavy timber and densebrushwood on all sides. The rebels were ambushed on three sides of ourregiment; consequently they had a cross-fire on us.

Our Colonel was killed in the first fire. I thought for awhile that thewhole line of battle would fall. One after another of our captains fell,until all were dead or so badly wounded as to incapacitate them for duty.

Finally one of our lieutenants took charge of the regiment. He had nosooner done so than he was shot through the foot. As he went hobblingoff he gave the command to fall back. Well, now, you can bet that we didfall back, and in double-quick time, too.

Now, right here occurred an incident that was laughable, notwithstandingthe serious position we were all in. We had a large negro to do ourcooking. For some reason or other he had got up toward the front. In hishand he held a camp-kettle, and when the Johnnies first fired he stoodparalyzed with fear. Finally he got his right mind, and then you oughtto have[Pg 3] seen him run. He turned, and giving an unearthly yell, skippedacross the battle-field. He did not let go of his kettle, and at everyjump he yelled, "I'se going home!"

We all gave leg-bail for security, and got across the field in a livelymanner, I tell you.

I made a straight line for a creek, and when I got there I saw a treehad fallen across it, and twelve of our men crossed on it. In themeantime the rebels had captured one of our guns, and turned it on ourmen who were crossing, and swept every man off into the creek. Aboutthis time I made a big jump and landed up to my cartridge box in thewater. Again, another shot came booming along and cut a nice paththrough the canebrake. It did not take me long to take advantage ofthese paths made by the cannon, and get out of that. The first men thatI met were of my own company. We formed a line and held the rebels incheck until our cartridges gave out; then commenced one of the mostshameful stampedes I ever witnessed. We set fire to the wagons that werenear us, and retreated. By this time the sun was very nearly down, so wedid not get far before dark.

We traveled all night, and in the morning came to a little town calledRipley. Here we made a halt to allow the stragglers to catch up;[Pg 4] andwhile waiting here the rebel cavalry got ahead of us.

The little squad that I was with stood right in front of a large whitehouse with a bay window in front. A woman stepped to the window with arevolver in her hand and fired into our crowd, killing one of ourlieutenants. Some of our men still having their guns loaded turned, andwithout orders, fired and killed the woman.

Just as we got to the town we found the rebel cavalry waiting for us. Weformed and charged. The cavalry opened and let us through, we onlylosing three men.

By this time I was getting tired. I told my brother I could stand it nolonger. He told me to try to keep up, but I knew I could not go much further.

About the middle of the afternoon we stopped to rest. We had beenresting only a few minutes when bang! bang! went the rebel guns. Mybrother and I jumped to our feet, took hold of hands started down a steep hill.

"Now," said I, "go on, for I cannot go any farther; I am played out. Yougo and try to get through to Memphis, and I will hide here and get awayif I can."

So he went on and I went down the hill and crawled under a large treethat had probably[Pg 5] blown down. It was not five minutes before theJohnnies were jumping over the very tree I was under. While lying thereI saw a big black negro jump up out of the brush with a navy revolver inhis hand. He saw that the Johnnies were all around him, and that hisonly chance was to fight. So he jumped upon a large rock. The rebelstold him to surrender, and at the same time began firing at him. Thenegro was plucky; he raised his revolver, took steady aim, and fired. Hekilled a Johnnie, and fetched three more before they fetched him. Havingkilled the poor fellow, they went up to him and ran their bayonetsthrough him time and again.

While this was going on you had better believe I was hugging the ground.I lay so flat and close that had I been a case-knife I could not havebeen much thinner. Well, I lay there until it was getting dark, thencrawled from under the tree and went back up the hill. Right in themiddle of the road I found a gun, which, upon examination, proved to beloaded. I bent my own gun around a tree, took up the loaded gun and leftthe road. I made up my mind that I would go about four miles south andthen strike west; by doing this I was bound to strike the Mississippisomewhere south of Memphis.[Pg 6] The country between Guntown and Memphis isall timber land.

Well, I went stumbling over logs, tearing through briar-bushes, andfinally struck a swamp. Yes, I struck it suddenly and unexpectedly. Istruck my toe against a log and went head-foremost, casouse into the mudand water. I floundered around in there until I got completely coveredwith mud and filth. I finally got clear of the swamp and came to adensely wooded place upon ground a little higher. Here I curled up undera tree and went to sleep. The first thing I heard in the morning was thewhip-poor-will. I saw by the light in the east that it was getting wellon towards daylight.

Knowing which direction was east, I knew that the opposite directionwould take me to the Mississippi, and in that direction I took mycourse. I hadn't gone more than a mile when I struck one of our men. Hebelonged to the cavalry. As he came up to me I asked him which way hewas going. He told me he was going to Memphis. "No," said I; "you aregoing directly east." After talking the matter over we started offtogether. We had not gone fifty yards when we heard the click of gunsand "Halt! you Yanks; throw down your guns!"[Pg 7] "Come up here!" "Give methat hat!" "Here, I want them boots!" I had a pocket knife and sevendollars and thirty cents in my pockets. My boots were new, and I hadmade up my mind to wear them if anybody wore them. So when I took themoff, I stuck the point of my knife into the toe and ripped them up tothe top of the leg. "Now you d——d Yank, I'll fix you for that." Hedropped on his knee, took deliberate aim, and just as his finger pressedthe trigger, the rebel captain raised the muzzle of his gun and it wentoff over my head. The captain said, "That man is a prisoner, andwhatever you do don't shoot him."

Well, the Johnnies did not want my boots then, but they took my pocketknife and money. I told them I had been in quite a number of battles,and seen a great many men captured, but that I had never known one ofour men to take a single thing from them; that if their men werecaptured without blankets we gave them some. "Keep your damn mouth shut,or I'll plug you yet," said the Johnnie. So I kept it shut, you bet.

The rebel Captain had his son with him, a boy about sixteen years old.He came up to me and said, "I'se sorry for you." Well, to tell thetruth, I was a sorrowful looking object,[Pg 8] covered with mud from head tofoot, hungry, tired and in the hands of what I knew to be a cruel enemy.You will perhaps say that I was not much of a soldier when I tell youthat I cried. I could not help it. The Captain's boy said, "Don't cry,and I will give you a piece of corn bread." I could not help laughing atthe simplicity of the child, and it made me feel better.

Well, they started us for the main road, and you can imagine myastonishment when we came at last to the road, and found that the rebelshad 1,800 of our men prisoners. They then started us toward the battleground. We marched till sundown and then went into camp.

CHAPTER II.

I thought about my brother, but was too tired and worn out to look himup, so lay down on the ground, without blanket or covering of any sort(for the rebels had taken everything and anything that they could makeuse of) and went to sleep, and I did not waken until I was aroused bythe call to fall in. I had had nothing to eat since I left thebattle-field, except the piece of corn bread the Captain's boy gave me,and this was the third day.

I was so sore and stiff that it was hard for me to move, and in themarch if I did not move fast enough, the Johnnies would prod me withtheir bayonets. We finally reached the battle-field, and when we gotthere, the rebels gave each of us a hard tack. Then they got us on atrain of cars and started us for Meriden, Miss. Arriving at Meriden, wegot off the cars for the evening. You can bet I was glad to stop. Whenwe finally got fixed for what I supposed the evening, we were ordered toform in line, and then the Johnnies went through us again;[Pg 10] and whatthey did not take the first time, they did not leave this time. Whenthey got through with us I went and lay down. I will never forget howgood it did feel to stretch out at full length on the ground and rest.The next morning one of our men asked the guard if he was going to getany rations. "Yes," he answered, "I will give you your rations, youd——d Yank," and deliberately shot the man dead on the spot. In a shorttime they took us down to the Tombigbee river. From there we wentstraight through to Andersonville.

When we got within a short distance of that place, we smelt somethingrather strong. I asked one of the guards what it was. He said, "You willsoon find out what it is," and you bet we did.

We were, as I said before, in flat-cars. As we came up to the littlestation, we could look right over the stockade into the pen. The penlooked then as if it would hold no more. I looked back over the wholetrain, which carried 1800 men, and wondered how in the world we couldall get in there. At this time there were only sixteen acres inclosed bythe pen, and it contained about 35,000 men. I little thought that Iwould get out of Andersonville alive; and oh! how many that marchedthrough the[Pg 11] prison gates that day came out on the dead-cart!

The stockade was in the form of a square, and made by placing logs inthe ground and forming a fence eighteen feet high. Inside of the mainfence was a line of posts set twelve feet from the stockade proper, andjoined together with slats about as wide as the hand, thus forming asecond fence four feet high which ran parallel to the stockade and allaround the pen. This was the dead line. A prisoner that came anywherenear the line was shot by the guards. The guards had little sentry boxesbuilt to the outside, and well up to the side of the stockade; were justhigh enough to allow the guard's head and shoulders to come above thestockade; these were reached from the outside by means of a ladder.

They took us from the cars and marched us up before Captain Wirz'sheadquarters. We were formed into line and counted off; were dividedinto hundreds, and again into squads of twenty-five.

A sergeant was appointed over each department. Captain Wirz came out infront of us and said: "You are a fine looking lot of men. I will fix soyou will not want to fight any more."

I will leave the readers to say whether he[Pg 12] kept his word. The big gateswere now swung back and we marched in. The old prisoners crowded aroundus and were eager to find out what was going on on the outside, and ifthere was any chance for an exchange.

On the day of my capture I was a hard looking sight, but it was nothingto what I saw on first going into Andersonville. The ground was whitewith maggots, and as the men crowded up to me the smell was sickening.

Some of the men had great sores on them that were full of maggots. Theyhad lost all the spirit and energy that makes the man. They were filthy,and the lice could be seen crawling all over them. There were men withtheir feet, and others with their hands rotting off with the scurvy. Menwere lying on all sides dying, while others were dead.

Was this some horrible dream, or was it real? I asked myself. I couldhardly believe my own eyes at first. Such a terrible sight but few menin the world have ever seen. I looked around for some place to sit down,but there was nothing but the ground, and even that was out of thequestion, we were so crowded. So thickly were we packed that I found itdifficult to do anything but stand or move as the crowd moved. I felt myhead grow light. Finally[Pg 13] everything became dark, and I was gone. Yes, Ihad fainted. How long I lay there I do not know, but when I came toagain it was night. It was some time before I could realize where I was,but the groans of my dying comrades brought me to my senses. The air hadbecome chilly. I went a short distance and fell in with my crowd. We alllay down spoon-fashion. One could not turn unless we all turned. The manat the head of the rank would give the command "right spoon," or "leftspoon," and then we would all turn together. The next morning I got upand looked upon one of the most horrible sights I ever saw. Withintwenty yards of us three men had died during the night. Some of the menwere engaged in carrying the dead to the gate entrance. I saw, withoutmoving from the place where I slept, the bodies of fifty-three men thathad died during the night. I brushed the maggots from my clothes, andwalked down to the creek to wash. When I got there and had a good viewof it, it was hard to tell whether it would make one clean or dirty. Therebel guard was camped above on the creek, and they made it a point, itseems, to throw all their filth into it, and at this time it was all thewater we had to drink. I asked one of the prisoners if they ever gavethe men soap. He[Pg 14] laughed and wanted to know if he looked like a manthat had ever seen soap. Just the looks of him would have convinced themost skeptical mind on that point. I went in, however, rubbed some dirtywater on my face, and called it a wash. At 12 o'clock the wagon with themeal came in. When I saw them giving it out I thought we were about toget a good ration, but when they came to divide I found my share toconsist of two-thirds of a pint. The meal had been ground with the cob,the same way in which farmers grind it for their hogs to-day. I drewmine in my two hands, for I had no dish to put it in. After two hours Igot a tin pail from one of the prisoners; but then I had no wood to cookit with. One of the old prisoners came to my relief with a few shavings,and showed me how to use them. He dug a little hole in the ground andset fire to the shavings. After placing the shavings in the hole, he setthe pail over the fire, stirred in the meal and made a mush of it. I didnot get mine more than half done, but I tell you it was good. I had beenwithout anything to eat for three days. I found that the old prisonersmade but one meal a day of their rations. For my part it was hard to seehow more could be made. After I had been there about two months, they[Pg 15]began to prepare the mush outside and bring it in to us in barrels.

Before going any farther I shall give a complete description of thestockade. When I went in first there were about sixteen acres enclosed.The gates were on the west side, one on each side of the creek, whichran from east to west through the middle of the pen. The land roseabruptly on each side of the creek, forming steep rills. About thecenter of the stockade was a regular quagmire, which covered about twoacres, and this was one reason why we were so crowded. About this timethe weather began to get very hot and the death-rate began to increase.The suffering among the prisoners was such as I hope never to witnessagain. The water was fearful, and we begged the rebels to give us toolsto dig wells with. We dug wells all over the prison, but could get nowater. About this time they enlarged the prison and took in eight moreacres. I tell you it was great relief. In and around Andersonville was aforest of pitch pine, so in enlarging the stockade they enclosed part ofthis timber land which had been cleared, but then contained a great manystumps and roots, which were made use of for fire-wood. Still the welldigging went on but no water was found. We were exposed to the[Pg 16] heat ofthe sun during the day and at night suffered from cold, for we had noshelter or covering of any sort. Starved for want of food and water,hundreds died daily.

For a long time our men had been trying to get up some plan to maketheir escape from prison. We had dug a number of tunnels, but old Wirzhad always found us out. We finally concluded to start in one of ourwells which we had dug about sixty feet without getting water. This wellwas about seventy-five feet from the stockade; so we went down abouteighteen feet and commenced digging a tunnel in under the stockade.Night after night we worked and threw the dirt into the well until wefilled it to the place started from. Then we handed the dirt up in partof a blanket, and carried it down and threw it in the mire. This all hadto be done at night, for the rebel guards were on the watch, and theleast thing that looked suspicious was investigated immediately. So welabored away, night after night, till we were sure we had passed thestockade and then commenced to dig up toward the surface.

We finally got so near the surface that we could hear the rebels talkand walk; so we concluded to wait until some dark night, and then makethe attempt. In three or four days we[Pg 17] had our tunnel finished (I shallnever forget it) it was a dark, rainy night, and we commenced droppingdown into the well, one by one, until there were thirteen of us in thetunnel. I was the second. Having got to the end of the tunnel, we laythere and listened. All being still my comrade began to remove the soil.

We remained still for half an hour. Everything having become quiet, ourleader stuck his head out of the hole. He crawled out, and I, beingbehind him, gave him a boost. The next man boosted me, and so on untilwe were all out except the last man. He was the largest man in thecrowd, and in trying to get up through the hole got fast in some way.

While we were trying to pull him out he hollered. I tell you there was acommotion among the Johnnies then. They commenced firing, and you couldhear them running in every direction. The only thing we could do was toleave him take care of ourselves. Three of us staid together and madefor the woods. Oh, how we did run! Every stump and bush we saw wethought a rebel. I said, "Boys, hold up; I can't stand this any longer."No wonder, for we were so starved that there was nothing left but[Pg 18] skinand bones. Being in such a weak condition I was surprised that we hadgone so far in so short a time. In a few minutes we struck a swamp, andstarted to wade along the edge. At the same time we could hear a fearfuluproar back among the rebel guards. The noise got fainter and fainter,and at last ceased. It was so dark that you could scarcely see your handin front of your face.

Where the rest of the men were we didn't know. We kept along the edge ofthe swamp. Sometimes we were up to our knees in water, sometimes we wereup to our armpits. We kept steadily on until daylight. Just about thistime we heard the bloodhounds away off in our rear. We pushed on withincreased vigor. The sounds came nearer and nearer. When it became broaddaylight we could see, in the middle of a swamp, a small island. If wecould only get to it, we thought we would be safe, for a time at least.The water was covered with slime, and full of all kinds of reptiles. Thedeadly water moccasin predominated. Our only chance was to get to theisland; so in we went. We finally got to the island, and found itcovered with a dense growth of laurel. We crawled up under the brush andlay down. We could easily see the side from which we came. In a fewminutes two[Pg 19] very large bloodhounds came out of the timber to the edgeof the swamp. They stood as if undecided what to do, but finally set upa kind of howl peculiar to them when disappointed or off the scent. In afew minutes five rebels rode up. The head man turned to the others and said:

"Hey, you Yanks, if you don't come over here I will send the dogs afteryou, and they will tear you to pieces."

"I know them Yanks are over there. Don't you see how the cane is partedwhere they waded or swam over?"

"I tell you what," said another; "I will get astraddle of a log and takethe dogs over there."

As he was getting off his horse we heard firing in the distance and thehowls of more dogs. The rebels mounted their horses and started for theplace where the firing seemed to be. We then jumped up and went aroundon the other side of the island, where we found a small shanty that hadbeen built by some runaway[Pg 20] negro before the war. One of the men, whohad been looking around, came running up and said that there was adugout hidden in the brush. To get it into the water was the work of aminute. It was badly sun-cracked, and leaked, but held us all. Two of uspushed with sticks while the third baled her out with a gourd which wefound in the boat. We pushed her along in this manner the rest of theday, and always managed to keep her under the over-hanging trees, wherewe would not likely be discovered.

It was now getting dark, and the swamp was narrowing down and the bankswere getting higher. It looked more like a river than a swamp.

We pulled in, and climbing out as carefully as I could so as not to makeany noise, I stepped along from tree to tree until I got close up to thechopper. It was a negro chopping wood in front of a cabin. A large negrowoman stood in the door, and said to him, "Now, Jake, if you want anysupper you want to hurry up and chop dat wood."

I looked around, and seeing no other house I stepped out and said, "Goodevening."

"It don't make any difference who I am," said I; "but, Aunty, can I getanything to eat?"

"No, honey; dere is no white folks within four miles of us. What's thematter, honey? Is you afraid of the white people?"

Jake then said, "Dat is just what dem sojers was huntin' to-day wid alldem dogs, down by de cane-brake. Dey said dey had catched four, and dedogs tore dem all to pieces."

I then went back to where the boys were, and told them to pull the boatup and come on. When we got to the shanty, the old woman gave us onelook, and clasping her hands in front of her, said,

No wonder. Each of us had on part of a shirt. Our pants were in rags.No shoes. No hat. And old Aunty was not much blacker. She gave ussomething to eat and then we went up into the loft, and lying down weresoon asleep. We did not wake up until long after daylight. Hearing oldAunty bustling about I put my head down through the trap door to speakto her. Just then Jake came in and said: "I'se been all around and don'tsee nobody at all." The old woman then told us that we had better staythree or four days, and then Jake would guide us around the swamp, andby that time they would have given up their search for us. We concludedto accept the kind old Aunty's invitation, for we could not possiblyfind a more secluded spot if we looked a year for it.

CHAPTER III.

Jake was the old woman's son. Before the war they had been sent to theswamp to make cypress shingles, and had cleared an acre of ground andbuilt the little cabin, living there ever since. They were veryignorant, but were true to the northern principles and the Unionsoldiers. Many was the time that our soldiers were taken in and caredfor when they knew that death would be the penalty if they were foundharboring Northern men. They were the friends of the Union soldier, andhe knew he could put his life in their hands and be safe. Jake keptwatch for us, but we did not venture out. We stayed in the loft most ofthe time.

On the fourth day of our stay, just about noon, Jake came in very muchexcited. "Oh!" said he; "De sojers is coming! de sojers is coming! Whatis we to do?" "Shut up, you niggah," said old Aunty, "I will talk to demsojers myself. You niggah, does you hear? You go[Pg 24] and chop wood." Jakewent to chopping wood. In a few minutes three Rebs rode up.

"Is dem Yanks got away? Fo' de Lord's sake; what will become of dis poreniggah? Dem Yanks will kill us all. Oh, dear! Oh, dear!"

"Shut up, you old black cuss, and if you see any Yanks send Jake over tohis master's and let them know there. They will send word to us."

At this the Rebs rode off. Aunty had saved us. She said she never was soscared in all her born days, and Jake's eyes looked like saucers.

"May the good Lord bress you, honey. I does hope dat you may get back toyour own folks. I'se awful 'fraid you won't, 'caus I seed an old culludwoman to-day who say dat de kentry is jist full of sojers looking fordem Yanks[Pg 25] wot's runned away from prison. I have baked some corn breadand bacon for you, and Jake will take you around de swamp."

We started about 12 o'clock that night. Our Aunty came to the door, tookeach of us by the hand and said: "Good-bye, and may de good Lord bressyou and keep you." We all thanked her for her kindness and started outinto the night. Jake went ahead and we followed along the edge of theswamp till daylight, when we came onto the main road. "Now, massa," saidJake, "I'se gone as far as I can go with you. I hope you will gitthrough all right, but if I was you I would lay down till night and thentake de main road for de north."

We shook hands all around with Jake and he was gone. We then went a milefrom the road and went into a lot of brush and lay there all day. Whenit became dark we struck for the north. It was a beautiful starlightnight, and the road stretched straight ahead of us as far as the eyecould reach. We passed a number of plantation houses. While passing onein particular the dogs set up a terrible howling. A man stood in themiddle of the road. He said:

"Well, I supposed you was. My master and a lot of soldiers are in thehouse now, and they have got seven dogs. They have been looking foryouans all day. I hope you will get away but I'se afraid you will not,for the soldiers are all over the country looking for youans."

We then asked him if he would guide us to the big swamp he told us of.He said he would go a piece with us, and he did go two or three miles,bringing us out near a large swamp. We traveled along the edge of thisswamp until daybreak, finding ourselves on a large cotton field, when wemade for the woods as fast as we could go. When we got to the timber Itold the boys that I was played out, so we made for a big brush pile andcrawling under the brush ate our breakfast. We then went to sleep andslept way into the next night. At daylight we again started north. Wewent through the woods and came out into a cornfield. Our bread andbacon had given out the night before and we were talking about somethingto eat, when Jesse said, "Hark!" We stopped and listened. Away off overthe fields in the direction we had come we could hear the faint sound ofthe bloodhounds. We looked at each other for a moment and then startedfor the timber. When we[Pg 27] got there each climbed a tree. We had been inthe trees only five minutes when seven large and wonderfully ferociousbloodhounds cleared the fence and made straight for our trees. I willnever forget what fearful beasts they were. The froth was coming fromtheir mouths and their eyes shone like candles in the dark. They cameright under the trees and looked up as much as to say, we have got you.They would back off a few yards and then come at the tree with a bound,snapping on the jump; then they would chew the bark of the trees. Inhalf an hour the Rebs came riding up. One of them jumped off his horseand threw the fence down. Then they rode in. There were fifteen in all,and their captain was an old gray-headed man. They rode under our trees,pointed their guns at us and said:

"Gentlemen," said I, "if you want to shoot, shoot; for I would rather beshot than chawed by them dogs."

One of the Rebs spoke to the captain and said, "Let's make them Yankscome down and see how quick the dogs will get away with them." "No,"replied the captain, "they look as though they had had trouble enough."

Then they quarreled among themselves. Some wanted to let the dogs at usand others wanted to take us back to prison. Finally the captain cameout ahead. They muzzled the dogs and tied them together. Then wesurrendered. The captain lived only four miles from where we werecaptured. So they took us back to his house. We got there about 4o'clock that afternoon. The old gentleman treated us kindly, giving ussomething to eat and also presented each with a quilt. We stopped hereover night. We had been gone from Andersonville seven days and only gottwenty-five miles away. The Rebs told us that the man who was caught inthe hole had been shot where he stuck. All the others had been torn topieces by the dogs except one and he had his arm torn off and died a fewdays later. We started next day for the prison. We traveled all day andcamped that evening by the road. At noon the next day we got back toprison. Wirz told the guards they were d— fools for bringing us backand told us we should be thankful to get back alive. After relieving usof our quilts the gates were opened and we were marched intoAndersonville again.

We had some praying men at Andersonville. They held nightly prayermeetings, and they[Pg 29] prayed for water. They prayed like men that meantbusiness, for we were all dying for the want of it. One day after one ofthese meetings there occurred one of the most fearful rains I ever saw.It washed the stockade as clean as a hound's tooth. Right between thedead line and the stockade it washed a ditch about two feet deep and aspring of cold water broke out in a stream large enough to fill afour-inch pipe. The spring is there yet, I am told, and to this day iscalled Providence spring. It broke out in the very best place it couldfor our benefit. The stockade protected it on one side from the rebelsand the dead-line on the other side protected it from the prisoners. Thefountain head was thus protected. We had good water from that on.

As I said before the Johnnies brought in our mush in barrels. After itwas distributed the prisoners would tip the barrels over and go in headfirst trying to get what was not scraped out. They fought like cats anddogs about who would get in first. All sense of manhood had left them.Starvation had made them little better than brutes. I had often tried tokeep my mind off of anything to eat but it was impossible. I would dreamat night that I was sitting up to a table loaded with good things, but[Pg 30]would always wake up before I got them.

About this time there was a band formed, probably the off-scourings ofthe city of New York. They called themselves the New York Bummers. Theymade up their minds to live, even if all the rest died of starvation.They were armed with clubs, and would take the mush away from the weakerones. If the unfortunate ones were strong enough to resist they knockedthem down at once; and even went so far as to kill several that refusedto give up to them. We were unable to stand by and permit such outrages,for to a man who lost one ration there, it meant almost certain death.So the western prisoners pitched into these "New York Bummers" and had aregular free fight, the former coming out ahead. We then took six of theleaders, and, holding a drumhead court-martial, sentenced them to behanged. We first sent a report through to Gen. Sherman, explaining thematter. He sent back word to string them up. The rebels furnished thenecessary timber, we built a scaffold and hanged them. From that time onevery man ate his own rations.

There was one very large man, who was the the only fat man in the pen,among the six who were to be hanged. When they were swung off[Pg 31] the bigman broke his rope, and then you should have seen him jump to his feet,strike out right and left with his fists, and lay out fifteen or twentymen, and finally fight his way through the crowd to the creek, but thepoor fellow got mired in the mud, and was captured and brought back. Helooked up and saw the five swinging to and fro, and said, "I will soonbe with you." Then they adjusted the rope around his neck and swung himoff.

Oh, how sad it makes me feel when I get to thinking of the poor fellowsthat had to die in that horrible slaughter pen. I speak that which Iknow and testify to that which I have seen and nothing more.

I have seen men go to the privy and pick up beans after they had passedthrough a man, and eat them. I have seen men lying on the ground callingfor mothers, sisters, and brothers. No one to soothe the aching brow orwhisper words of comfort, but had to die alone in that dirt and filth.

Capt. Wirz got it into his head that we had arms, and were going to makea break for liberty, and on the other hand we heard that the rebelsintended to take some of us out to shoot, for the Yankees had beenshooting the rebel prisoners, and the rebels were going to retaliate;so[Pg 32] one day a rebel sergeant came in and commanded about one hundred ofus to fall in to go for wood. You may depend we were not long in doingso, for if there was a happy time at Andersonville it was when we werelet out to get wood.

Why, dear readers, I cannot describe to you the happiness which I feltto get out of that prison pen for just one hour. We formed a line andmarched out. After they had marched us about half a mile from the penthey formed us in a line, with one Reb in front of each Yank, then oldWirz gave the command to ready, aim. You may be sure my heart came upinto my mouth, and for a fact I thought the rebels were going toretaliate; but instead of shooting they searched us, to see if we hadany arms concealed. Finding nothing of the kind, they put us back intothe prison.

The next day the same sergeant came in and inquired for men by the namesof Root and Tyler. Tyler being my name I knew it was me he was after,but having the retaliation in my head you may be sure I kept still; butone of our own men pointed me out. The Johnnie came up to me and said,"You are wanted outside;" and looking around he found Root, and told usboth to follow him. Our comrades,[Pg 33]supposing we were to be shot,escorted us to the gate and bade us good-bye for the last time, as theythought. The truth of the matter was we were taken out to help bury thedead. As far as I was concerned it did not make much difference to mewhat I did, for at that time I had the scurvy so bad I could have pulledmost any tooth out with my fingers, while some of them fell outthemselves.

Well, we were taken before Wirz. "Now," said he, "if youans' wont runaway you can stay out here and bury the dead." We took the oath, andwere told to go to a small log cabin, where we found twenty of our menwho had already been taken out for the same business.

CHAPTER IV.

It did seem nice to get into a house which contained a fire-place and acrane where the kettles hung. One of the men swung the crane out andhung a kettle of beans over the fire. You bet I looked on with interest.One of my comrades noticing me watching the cook said, "You had betterbe careful how you eat or you will kill yourself." That night I lay asnear the fireplace as possible. The bubble of the bean pot was music inmy ear. I kept quiet until I thought my comrades were asleep, thenraising myself in a sitting posture, swung the crane back and took thepot of beans off. With much difficulty I succeeded in finding a spoon; Ithen sat as close to the kettle as possible, with one leg on each sideof it, and went in for dear life. "Hold on, there," said one of mycomrades, "do you want to kill yourself? I have been[Pg 35]watching you allthis time." For a truth I thought I was badly used.

The next day the men concluded to leave me to take care of the cabin,being too weak to be of much service.

The provisions were locked up in a big box, and the men went to work. Iswept out the cabin and walked out to see what could be seen. Walkingalong I saw an old colored woman and her little boy, hanging outclothes. He was very dirty and ragged. He sat on the bank of the creekthrowing crumbs from a good-sized piece of corn bread to the fish. Iwent up to him and snatched the bread from his hands. He jumped up andran to his mother crying, "That man has got my bread." "Never mind,honey; that man must be hungry."

The following day three more men were brought out to bury the dead. Ourcook as usual hung up the kettle of beans to cook for breakfast.

Some time in the night one of the new hands got up and helped himself tobeans, and before twelve o'clock the next day he was a dead man. You maybe sure I was more careful after that how I ate.

The next day the men took me out to help bury the dead. Upon arriving atthe place of[Pg 36] burial I was yet so weak that I was of no service. So theyset me to bringing water for the men to drink. The way the graves weredug was to dig a ditch six feet wide, about one hundred yards long, andthree feet deep. They then laid them as close as possible, without box,coffin, or clothes, for the men inside stripped the dead as fast as theydied. Most of the prisoners were destitute of clothes, but it lookedhard to see from three to five hundred buried in one day without clotheson.

The prisoners of Andersonville were dying at a terrible rate, especiallythose who had been longest in rebel hands. The rebels had deliberatelyplanned the murder of the Union prisoners by the slow process ofstarvation and disease. It was at first slow but sure, and then it wassure and rapid. I have counted three hundred and sixty lifelessskeletons of our boys that had died in one day. You might walk aroundthe prison any hour in the day and see men closing their eyes in death.Diarrhœa and scurvy appeared to be the most fatal diseases.

None can know the horrors of scurvy except those who have had it.Sometimes the cords of the victim would be contracted and the limbsdrawn up so that the patient could neither walk, stand, nor lie still.Sometimes it would[Pg 37] be confined to the bones, and not make anyappearance on the outside. At other times it would be confined to themouth, and the gums would separate from the teeth and the teeth woulddrop out. I have seen hundreds of cases of this disease inAndersonville. I have seen many of our prisoners suffering with thisdisease, actually starving to death, because they could not eat thecoarse corn meal furnished by the rebels for the Yankee prisoners.

In the month of June it rained continually for twenty-one days, and itis not strange diseases multiplied and assumed every horrible form;there were thirty-five thousand prisoners during all the rainy time,without shelter, lying out in the storm, day and night.

As I was going to the well for water, the third or fourth day of my stayoutside, I met Wirz and two confederate officers. Wirz said, "What areyou doing here?" I told him I was carrying water for the men who weredigging graves. "Well," said he, "If you don't get inside of that gate,double quick, I will have a grave dug for you, and prepare you to fillit." You may be sure I went in, and was a prisoner inside again.

About this time Mrs. Wirz took a great liking to one of our littledrummer boys. She[Pg 38] took him out and dressed him in a nice fitting suitof gray. The boy was only eleven years old, and very handsome. Thelittle fellow put on his suit of gray, and Mrs. Wirz said, "How do youlike your clothes?" "I do not like them at all," replied the boy. "Why,what is the matter?" "I do not like the color." Mrs. Wirz liked him allthe better for the bold spirit he manifested. She then made him a suitof blue, and also a nice red cap, and thenceforth he went by the name ofRed Cap.

Red Cap would come in every day or two and tell us what was going onoutside. He told us Mrs. Wirz quarreled with Wirz every day because hedid not try to prepare some kind of a shelter for the prisoners. Shewished him to let a few of us out at a time to cut timber to make ourown shelter with. No, he would not do that. Finally Mrs. Wirz told himif he didn't do something for the relief of the prisoners, she wouldpoison him; "For," said she, "I cannot sleep nights; my dreams are onecontinued nightmare, and I will stand it no longer." Mrs. Wirz was atrue southerner, of the kind called creole; but for all that she had agreat deal of humanity about her. She continued her threats andpleadings, but they were of no avail. She finally did give him a dose ofpoison. He had[Pg 39] been threatened so much that when he did get it he knewwhat was the matter, and took something to counteract it. After that"Old Wirz" let us out oftener for wood.

Dr. John C. Bates, who was a kind-hearted and humane rebel surgeon,testified as follows:

"When I went there, there were twenty-five hundred sick in the hospital.I judge twenty-five thousand prisoners were crowded together in thestockade. Some had made holes and burrows in the earth. Those under thesheds in the hospital were doing comparatively well. I saw but littleshelter excepting what the prisoners' ingenuity had devised. I foundthem suffering with scurvy, dropsy, diarrhœa, gangrene, pneumonia,and other diseases. When prisoners died they were laid in wagons headforemost to be carried off. Effluvia from the hospital was veryoffensive. If by accident my hands were affected, I would not go intothe hospital without putting a plaster over the affected part. Ifpersons whose systems were reduced by inanition should purchance stump atoe or scratch a hand, the next report to me was gangrene, so potent wasthe hospital gangrene. The prisoners were more thickly confined in thestockade than ants and bees. Dogs were kept for hunting the prisonerswho escaped.

Fifty per cent of those who died might have been saved. I feel safe insaying seventy-five per cent might have been saved, if the patients hadbeen properly cared for. The effect of the treatment of prisoners wasmorally as well as physically injurious. Each lived but for himself,which I suppose was entirely superinduced by their starving condition.Seeing the condition of some of them, I remarked to my student, "Icannot resurrect them." I found persons lying dead among the living.Thinking they merely slept, I went to wake them up but found they weretaking their everlasting sleep. This was in the hospital, and I judge itwas worse in the stockade. There being no deadhouse I erected a tent forthat purpose. But I soon found that a blanket or quilt had been cut offfrom the canvas, and as the material readily served for repairs, thedeadhouse had to be abandoned. The daily ration was much less inSeptember, October, November and December than it was from the first ofJanuary till the twenty-sixth of March, 1865. The men had never had tenounces of food every twenty-four hours. The scurvy was next torottenness. Some of the patients could not eat on account of the scurvy;their teeth were loose; they frequently asked me to give them somethingto[Pg 41] eat which would not cause pain. While Doctor Stevenson was medicaldirector he did not manifest any interest in the relief of theirnecessities; the rations were less than ten ounces in twenty-four hours;some men did actually starve to death on it. There was plenty of wood inthe neighborhood, which might have been cut to answer all demands forshelter and fuel."

This concluded the testimony of Dr. Bates, and considering that he livesin Georgia it need not be said that he testified reluctantly to thetruth.

Charles W. Reynolds, of Company B, Ninth Illinois Cavalry, writes hisexperience: "We reached Andersonville about 2 o'clock P. M. on the firstday of April, 1864. We got off the cars in a timbered country with a drysandy soil. About three quarters of a mile off we could see a largeenclosure composed of timber set on end in the ground, with sentry boxesset along the top, and that was the Andersonville prison pen. The oldDutchman, as he was called, Captain Wirz, riding a white horse, camealong and escorted us to the prison gate. Here he left us with theguards and himself went inside to learn what part of the prison toassign us to. While we were waiting outside of the prison gates a lot ofYankee prisoners came from the woods with[Pg 42] arms full of fagots that theyhad been gathering for fuel. At first we thought they were a lot ofnegroes; but as they came nearer we saw that they were Yankee prisoners.They were as black as negroes, and such downcast, hopeless, haggard andwoe-begone looking human beings I never saw before. They said they wereglad to see us, but would to God it was under better circumstances.

"After a while the prison gates were opened for us to pass through. Aswe entered a sight of horror met our eyes that almost froze our bloodand made our hearts stop beating. Before us were skeleton forms thatonce had been stalwart men, covered with rags and filth and vermin, withhollow cheeks and glowing eyes. Some of the men in the heat andintensity of their feelings exclaimed, 'Is this hell?' Well might Wirz,the old fiend who presided over that rebel slaughtering pen, havewritten over its gates, 'Let him that enters here leave all hopebehind.' It may be that some of the readers of this little book thinkthere is a good deal of exaggeration, but I want to say right here thatit is impossible to write or tell the horrors of Andersonville prison sothat anybody can understand or realize them."

It was getting along toward fall and the[Pg 43] rebels told us there was goingto be an exchange. Oh, how my heart did jump. Could it be possible thatI was to get back to see my kind old mother, and my wife and little oneswho had mourned for me as dead? If I could only write the feelings thatovercame me I know you would feel happy for me. It, however, turned outto be false. We also heard that General Sherman was getting close to usand the rebels began to move us out of the way.

The greatest portion was taken to Charleston, North Carolina. There wereseven thousand of us left. In a few days they marched the rest of us outand shipped us to Savannah. We arrived there the next day, the hardestlooking set of men you ever set eyes on. They marched us from the carsto a new stockade they had prepared for us. As we marched through thecity the citizens gathered on each side of the street to see the Yankeeprisoners pass. As we marched along some of the citizens said they feltsorry for us, others said we were treated too well. They finally got usto the gate and we were marched in. We were then in hearing of our ownguns. This stockade consisted of about ten acres. But after all thecitizens gave us more to eat than they did around Andersonville, forthey sent in beef and other things that[Pg 44] we never got at any otherprison. We did not stay long at Savannah. They took us from there toThomasville, one hundred miles south of Savannah. On our way fromSavannah two of our men made their escape. The guards were stationed ontop of the cars and the prisoners were inside. Two of our men made adesperate jump for liberty. We were going at the rate of twenty miles anhour when they made the jump. When they struck the ground they tumbledend over end. The guards blazed away at them. I could see the dirtflying all around them where the bullets struck, and we were gone, andso were they, and I found out since that they got through to our linesall right.

When we arrived at Thomasville our guards marched us back in the woodsabout three miles. They did not have any stockade at this point, so inorder to keep us from making our escape they had a ditch dug all aroundus. Four more of our men made a break for liberty at this place; threeof them got away, the fourth was shot and died in two days afterwards.We stayed at Thomasville two weeks and then our guards marched acrossthe country to a small town called Blacksheon. As we were marchingthrough the country the colored people came out on the road to see theYankees go by. We were[Pg 45] in a deplorable condition, the larger part ofthe prisoners were almost destitute of clothes, and as we were forced tomarch along in the cold biting wind, there were a good many of theprisoners died on the road. Most of the men were without shoes. Theirfeet looked more like big pieces of bloody meat than like human feet.They could easily be tracked by their poor, bleeding feet.

As I said before the colored people gathered on each side of the road tosee the Yankees by. Seeing an old lady standing close by the road Ispoke to her and said: "Aunty, what do you think of us, anyway?" "Well,mas'er, I'se very sorry for you." Well, to state the fact, the tearsforced themselves to my eyes in spite of all I could do to hear onesympathizing word, even if it was from an old colored woman.

When we first started from Thomasville one of the guards came up to meand said, 'Yank, I want you to carry this knap-sack. I told him I wasnot able to carry myself. "It don't make no difference to me whether youcan carry yourself or not; but you will carry this knap-sack as far asyou go, or I will blow your brains out." So I was forced to carry hisknap-sack, which weighed about forty pounds.

Some of the time I thought I would fall, but[Pg 46] I managed to keep alonguntil the first day noon, when we made a halt, and the rebel gave me asmall piece of meat. "Now," said the Johnnie, "I have given you a goodration, and I hope you will carry my knap-sack without grumbling." Westarted on, but had not gone over five miles when I gave out. I couldnot go any farther; so down I went my full length on the road. "Get up,you d——d Yank, or I'll run you through with this bayonet."

If he had done so it could not have made any difference with me, for Ihad fainted. A confederate officer made him take the knap-sack, and heput it on another prisoner. I staggered to my feet and went on and on.Oh, would this thing never end! But finally we did get through toBlackshire, more dead than alive. That was the terminus of the railroadthat went through Andersonville. I was glad to get where I could rest.To lie down and stretch out at full length was more delightful than Ican describe. Ah, would this thing never end, or was I doomed to die inrebel hands? I want to say right here that there were seventeenthousand, eight hundred and ninety-six deaths of Union prisoners atAndersonville.

We went into camp about half a mile from the town. The next morning theymarched us[Pg 47] through town. The colored folks came from all sides to seethe prisoners and their guards go by, all dressed in their holidayclothes, for this was the day before New Year's. One old colored womanhad a piece of sugar-cane. She was some distance ahead, standing closeto the road, watching us go by. Many of the guards made a grab for thepiece of cane, but she avoided them every time. Just as I got oppositeher she darted forward and handed me the cane. The rebel guard raisedhis gun and brought it down over the poor old woman's head, and she fellin the road like one dead. The last I saw of her, her colored friendswere carrying her off. However, I heard the next morning that the womanhad died during the night, of the blow she received from the rebelguard. You may be sure I was pleased to get the sugar-cane, and it was agreat thing. The cane was very refreshing and nourishing, and I feltvery grateful to the poor old colored woman who lost her life trying togive me something to eat.

They marched us up to the cars. We were put in box-cars. Just as theguards had got us loaded a handsome lady came riding on horseback andbegan talking very earnestly to one of the confederate officers. Ourguards told us she was pleading with the officer to make us a New[Pg 48]Year's present. She finally got the officer's consent, and two largewagons drove up to the cars, and each prisoner got a good half pound ofpork, and it was good pork, too. Oh, how thankful we did feel to thatgood lady for making us that nice present. It is a singular fact, thatalways during our despondent times there is sure to break through theblack clouds a ray of bright sunshine.

We lay in box cars all night, and next morning went through toAndersonville. We arrived there about ten o'clock the same day. On NewYear's day, 1865, we were ordered out of the cars. It was a veryunpleasant day. The wind was blowing cold from the north, and we huddledup close to keep warm. The rebels were all around us and had fires. Wewere not in the pen, but just outside.

One of our little drummer boys stepped up to the fire to warm, when oldWirz came along and ordered him back. The boy started back, but seeingWirz going away went back to the fire again. Wirz turned, and seeing theboy, drew his revolver and shot him dead. The little fellow fell in thefire. I could not hear what the rebel guards said to Wirz, for the windwas blowing the other way, but this I do know, he took their arms awayand put them in irons.[Pg 49] They then counted us off and opened the gates,and we marched in. We were prisoners in Andersonville once more. Well, Imust say my hope of getting out was very small; for even if I had beenpermitted my liberty I could not have walked five miles. There were onlyabout seven thousand of us, altogether; so you see we had plenty ofroom; in fact it looked almost deserted. I had been used to seeing itcrowded. We had no shelter of any kind, so four of us clubbed togetherand dug a hole seven feet deep, and then widened it out at the bottom soas to accommodate four of us. It was all open at the top, but it keptthe cold winds from us.

It finally came my turn to go for wood. There were six of us picked outto go. One of the six was a very sickly man, and could hardly walk,without carrying a load. He could not be persuaded to let some strongerman take his place, so out we went, sick man and all. We went about halfa mile from the pen, and every man went to work picking up his wood.Finally, we started for the stockade; but the sick man could not keepup; he had more wood than he could carry. We went as slow as our guardswould let us, in order to give him a chance. Just then Wirz came ridingalong on his old white horse, and seeing the sick man[Pg 50] some twenty yardsbehind, said, "Close up there, close up there, you d——d Yankee." Thesick man tried to hurry up, but stubbed his toe and down he went, woodand all. Wirz sprang from his horse and ran up to the poor sick soldierand kicked him in the stomach with the heel of his big riding boot, andleft him a dead man. "That is the way I serve you d——d Yanks when youdon't do as I tell you." The rest of us went back to the prison pen,sick at heart.

How was it our government left us there to die? We knew the rebels wereanxious for an exchange, and we could not understand why our governmentwould not make the exchange. I know this much about it, if ourgovernment had made the exchange the rebels would have had about fortythousand able-bodied men to put in the field, while on the other handour government would have had that many to put in the hospital. Therebel sergeant came in every day and said, "All you men that will comeout and join our army, we will give you good clothes and rations." Therewere a few that went out, but they went out simply to make their escape.As far as I was concerned, I would have died before I would have put ontheir gray uniform.

We had no snow, but had cold and heavy rains. One night, just as theguard called out "Twelve o'clock and all is well," our hole in theground caved in, and we had a terrible time struggling to get out; butwe finally got out, and there we sat on the ground, that cold rainbeating down on our poor naked bodies. When it did come daylight, wecould hardly stand on our feet. One of my poor comrades died beforenoon, and another in the afternoon, from the effects of that cold storm;so there were only two of us left.

In about a week from the time our place caved in we were taken out toget wood again. As our little squad marched out, about fifty yards fromthe stockade I saw a good sized log lying there. It was about eight feetlong and two feet in diameter. I saw that the rebel guard was a kindlooking old man, and asked him if he would be so kind as to help me getthe log inside of the stockade. "Now," said he, "If youans won't try torun away, I will help you." I gave him the desired promise, and he laiddown his gun and helped me to roll the log in. That was the second timeI had received a kind act from one of the rebel guards. The other timewas when the rebel Captain gave us three quilts. I got a couple ofrailroad spikes from one[Pg 52] of my comrades, and split the log all up insmall strips, and then we fixed our cave up with a good roof, and I mustsay it was really comfortable.

CHAPTER V.

One day, when the Rebs brought in our meal, an old prisoner managed tosteal one of the meal sacks. He stole the sack to make him a shirt. Hecut a hole in the bottom for his head, one in each side for his arms. Itmade the old gentleman quite a shirt. Wirz missed the sack, and refusedto issue any more rations till the sack and man were found. He found theman and took him out, and put him in the stocks and left him there allnight. In the morning when he went to let him out the man was dead.

In the middle of February the guards told us they didn't think we wouldhave to stay much longer, as the south was about played out. Could it bepossible that we were about to get home again, or were they about tomove us to another prison, and simply telling us this to keep us fromrunning away? Finally we were ordered out and put on flat cars and sentthrough to Salem, Alabama. There we were ordered off the cars. As westepped out on the platform a rebel citizen came up with a[Pg 54]stove-pipehat in his hand. He had it full of confederate money; and as we passedhim he gave each one of us a bill. I got a fifty-dollar bill for mineand I traded it off to an old woman for a sweet potato pie, and thoughtI had made a big bargain at that.

The guards marched us to a pen they had prepared for us. They opened thegates, and we marched in. Now you could see a big change in the guardsand rebel officers. We were used better in every respect. That night therebel band came up and serenaded us, and finally passed theirinstruments through to the Yankees, who played Yankee Doodle, HailColumbia, the Star Spangled Banner, and a good many other pieces. Thenthey passed the instruments out, and the Johnnies played the Bonnie BlueFlag, and Dixie, and a good many more rebel pieces.

The next morning they marched us out to the depot, and we got on to flatcars again, and were sent through to Jackson, Mississippi, where we wereordered off the cars and formed in line. The rebel officers said, "Youwill have to march on foot to Vicksburg," and we had to take an oath notto molest anything on our way. Then the guards were taken off, and onlya few rebel officers sent to guide us[Pg 55] through to Vicksburg. We werethree days in marching through, if I remember right. Finally we came insight of our flag, on the other side of Black river from us. What ashout went up from our men. I never shall forget it. It did seem as if Icould fly. I was going home for sure; there was no doubt now. As we cameup we found a good many ladies that had come down from the north to meetus. They brought us towels, soap, shears, razors, paper and envelopes,and even postage stamps, and our government had sent out new clothes,blankets and tents. Oh, this was a perfect heaven. We washed, cut ourhair, and put on our new clothes. The clothing was not issued just as itshould have been, but every man helped himself. I got one number sevenand one number twelve shoe. By trading around a little, however, I got apair of twelves; so I was solid. Then I looked around for my comrade,who had slept with me for the past six months, but could not find him. Isaw a man standing close by me, laughing, but I did not know it was mycomrade I had slept with, until he spoke to me. It is impossible for meto make you understand the immense change made in us. From dirt andfilth and rags, we stepped out clean and well dressed.

When I came through to our lines I weighed[Pg 56] just one hundred pounds. Myaverage weight is one hundred and ninety. Some of the men were worse offthan I. You may be sure, my dear readers, I did feel thankful to God formy deliverance. I had a praying mother away up north, and do feel it wasthrough her prayers, that I got through to our lines once more.

We got some coffee and hard-tack, and pitched our tents about five milesin the rear of Vicksburg. Well, my dear readers, it did seem nice to gointo camp in our own lines. I was almost rotten with the scurvy, and soweak that I could hardly walk, and my skin was drawn down over my bones,and it was of a dark blue color.

Our men died off very rapidly for the first few days. Finally, ourdoctor had our rations cut down, and the men began to gain. My mind atthis time was almost as badly shattered as my body, and didn't becomesound till I had been home two years; and the fact of the matter is, Inever have become sound in body. I have the scurvy yet; so bad at timesthat my family cannot sit up and eat at the same table with me; and asfar as manual labor is concerned, I am not able to do any. Thegovernment allows me four dollars a month pension, which I am verythankful for.

Our camp was on the west side of Black river. After we got in the rearof Vicksburg, we were put on what was called neutral ground, and therebels had their officers over us. We were not exchanged, but ourgovernment made this bargain with the rebels: If they would send usthrough to our lines, our government would hold us as prisoners of waruntil they could come to some kind of an understanding. The fact was,the seven thousand that I came through with never were exchanged, butwere discharged as prisoners of war. It has been now twenty-two yearssince the war, and there may be some things that are not correct, butyou may depend that everything is as near true as I can remember, in my story.

After we had drawn our clothes and tents and got our tents pitched, anddrawn our rations, the first thing done was to write up to Belvidere,Illinois, to my wife and mother, to let them know that I was through toour lines. Oh, what rejoicing there was away up in my northern home.When they first got my letter my wife exclaimed, "Will is alive! Will is alive!"

As I have said, ladies from all over the northern states brought to usbooks, papers, writing-paper and envelopes. So it seemed like a perfectparadise to what we had seen for a long[Pg 58] time. Finally I got a letterfrom home. I cannot describe to you how happy I did feel to hear from mywife and little ones once more, and from my dear old mother. She wrotethey were all well, and so anxious for me to come home. My brother whohad left me on the side hill, had been captured, but made his escape. Hehad died shortly alter reaching our lines, and my other brother had diedat Nashville hospital. So out of three brothers I was the only onelikely to get home.

Every time that we wanted to go outside of our camp we had to go to therebel Colonel and get a pass. One morning I went up to headquarters toget a pass. I wanted to go down to Vicksburg, but could not find a rebelofficer in camp. It was the day that Abraham Lincoln was assassinated.Our officers had let the rebel officers know it the moment they hadreceived the news of the assassination. The rebel officers had made ageneral stampede during the night. They were afraid that when theprisoners of war heard of it they would want to retaliate. I do thinkthat the rebel officers were wise in getting out of camp.

When the news came that Abraham Lincoln was killed there was silence inthe camp. Every man you met looked as though he had lost all[Pg 59] thefriends he ever had. It was days before the men acted like themselvesagain.

We finally received orders to embark for St. Louis, and at the same timereceived news that the rebel armies were surrendering on all sides; sowe were sure that the war was over. We marched down to Vicksburg to takea steamer for St. Louis. When we got on the levee we found only one boatready to leave. Our officers then divided us up and put three thousandof us on board the "Henry Ames," and the balance had to wait for anotherboat. It was my luck to get on the first boat. I never will forget howhappy I did feel when the big wheels began to revolve, and she made outinto the broad Mississippi. I was on my way home, sweet home, where Iwould have a good bed, and sit up to the table and eat with my familyonce more. Oh, happy thought! It seemed to me as if the boat only creptalong; I wanted to fly; I was sick of war and rumors of war; I did notwant any more of it in mine. It was all the officers of the boat coulddo to keep their prisoners in subjection. They were running from oneside of the boat to the other for every trifling thing they saw on thebanks of the river. They were free men once more, and were going home;no wonder they were wild.

We finally got to St. Louis. We were then marched up to Bentonbarracks. When we arrived there we heard that the other prisoners we hadleft at Vicksburg had embarked on board the steamer "Sultant," and whenjust off from Fort Pillow her boilers had exploded, and out of threethousand and five hundred prisoners only three hundred were saved. Howhard it did seem for those poor men, after going through the hardshipsof Andersonville, and almost in sight of their homes, to have to die. Iknew that my folks did not know which boat I was on, so I hastened tolet them know.

We staid in Camp Benton about three weeks and got paid for rations thatwe did not eat while prisoners of war, and three months' extra pay. Mypay altogether amounted to seventy-six dollars. They then sent us acrossthe Mississippi and we took the cars for Chicago. The citizens allthrough Illinois heard of our coming and out of every door and window wesaw the welcome waves of handkerchiefs and flags; and they had tablesset in the open air with everything good you could think of to eat uponthem for the prisoners of war. We finally got to Chicago, and then therewas a grand scattering of the prisoners. They went in all directions totheir homes.

From Chicago I went to Belvidere. My father, mother, wife and littleones live about four miles south of town. There were ten or twelve whobelonged in and around Belvidere, and when we got off the train therewas a large crowd of citizens there to meet us; and such a cheer as theyset up I shall never forget. There was a carriage waiting to take me out home.

As I came in sight of the old farm house the feelings that came over meI shall never forget. The carriage stopped; I got out and stepped to thegate; my old mother stood in the door; we gave one another a look and Iwas in her arms. "Oh, this is my son, who was lost and is found; who wasdead and is alive again." And surely, if ever the fatted calf was killedit was killed for me. Then, oh, how good it did seem to have my wife andlittle ones around me once more; and sit up to the table and eat like a Christian.

Now, my kind readers, I will bid you good-bye, and some time in the nearfuture I will give you the remainder of my recollections of the war.

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The Project Gutenberg eBook ofThe Dispatch Carrier and Memoirs of Andersonville Prison

THE DISPATCH CARRIER
and
MEMOIRS OF ANDERSONVILLE PRISONBYCOMRADE Wm. N. TYLER.

CONTENTS

PREFACE.

CHAPTER I.

CHAPTER II.

CHAPTER III.

CHAPTER IV.

CHAPTER V.

CHAPTER VI.

CHAPTER VII.

CHAPTER VIII.

Memoirs of Andersonville.

CHAPTER I.

CHAPTER II.

CHAPTER III.

CHAPTER IV.

CHAPTER V.

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE

Movatterモバイル変換

The Project Gutenberg eBook ofThe Dispatch Carrier and Memoirs of Andersonville Prison

THE DISPATCH CARRIERandMEMOIRS OF ANDERSONVILLE PRISONBYCOMRADE Wm. N. TYLER.

CONTENTS

PREFACE.

CHAPTER I.

CHAPTER II.

CHAPTER III.

CHAPTER IV.

CHAPTER V.

CHAPTER VI.

CHAPTER VII.

CHAPTER VIII.

Memoirs of Andersonville.

CHAPTER I.

CHAPTER II.

CHAPTER III.

CHAPTER IV.

CHAPTER V.

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE

THE DISPATCH CARRIER
and
MEMOIRS OF ANDERSONVILLE PRISONBYCOMRADE Wm. N. TYLER.