Part 18 (2/2)
Seven sentinels were on duty,--three in the back yard, four in the front yard. The charge upon the former was completely successful, their guns being wrested from them before they knew their danger, and they were kept perfectly quiet under the threat--which would have been executed--of instant death.
The attack in the front yard was made with equal gallantry and skill, but not with equal success. Two rebels stood near the front door of the prison, and these were secured in the same manner as their comrades at the rear, and held in silence. Had the remaining two been close at hand, I have no doubt they would have fared as their comrades, and thus the unparalleled feat of twelve unarmed prisoners taking the loaded muskets from seven guards on their post would have been accomplished. But, unfortunately, the last two stood at the open gate. Their conduct was not brave but it was wise, for, without firing a shot, they ran out through the gate, screaming the alarm in tones that roused the whole neighborhood. The reserve guard was close at hand, and at once rushed to the rescue.
The whole action, from the time Fry stepped out of the door until the wild cry was raised at the gate, was probably less than sixty seconds.
Fry and myself were preparing to secure the jailer, for we knew not yet that the attack was made. Buffum had opened two doors, and was working at the third when the wild, thrilling cry of alarm arose from below.
Those within adjured him to open, and the brave man, though his own chances of life were lessening each second, worked till the door opened, and then violently flung it wide, with an impatient ”_there!_” while he bounded down the stairway like a hunted deer.
All secrecy was at an end, and the only remaining hope was in headlong flight. Our comrades in the yard saw their peril, and were in a little better position than those of us who were still inside the jail. They let go their terrified enemies, flung away the guns, which now could only impede their flight, and, scaling the board fence, made for the woods nearly a mile away. Even for the foremost of them it was a fearful race. Rebel bullets whistled around their ears, but none of them was. .h.i.t. Indeed, I am inclined to think that it was a fortunate thing for our comrades that the rebels had guns to carry, and stopped to fire whenever they came near a fugitive. Otherwise hundreds of fresh, vigorous soldiers--for there were soon hundreds on the scene--could have run down a dozen half-starved prisoners.
Fry and myself started down-stairs together as soon as Buffum had opened the last door,--only a moment after the alarm had been given, but moments were more precious then than common months. The captain was a little in advance. His eagle eye took in the situation, as in two leaps he cleared the stairway. He saw there was no chance in the front yard, now filled with armed rebels, and darted to the back door, found a pa.s.sage to the yard fence, scaled it just before a complete guard was stretched around the prison, was fired at on the fence, but descended in safety, and run in a different direction from the other fugitives.
Finally, a soldier levelled his musket at him, and he fell. One of our own men who saw this, and no more, reported that he was killed, and we long mourned the brave man as dead. But this was only a stratagem to gain his breath for a moment. His pursuers turned towards other game, and he rose, and, after a second hard chase, gained the cover of the woods. Thirty days after he had reached Nashville in safety.
I was to have been his companion, according to the allotment we made before leaving the prison, and our boys almost envied me the advantage of being with so experienced a mountain traveller. But a moment's misfortune made this advantage unavailing, and doomed me to further sufferings. My eyes have always been defective, and especially sensitive to sudden variations of light. When I came from the dark prison room (the hall was equally dark) into full light, for a moment I could see nothing distinctly. I lost sight of Fry. It would not do to stand still, and I rushed for the prison-gate. Many a time defective vision has been a source of annoyance and vexation, but never so much as then. Before getting to the gate I could see better, and was confronted by two soldiers, who were tossing their guns about in a distracted manner, and crying, ”What shall we do? Oh, what shall we do?” They did not look dangerous, and I ran by; but just in the gate I met a stream of fresh guards coming on the run. Of course they halted me, and equally, of course, I did not halt, but turned back towards the jail. There were other guards around, one of whom snapped his gun at me when not two yards away. I eluded them, got into the jail again, and out at the back door. This time I reached the top of the yard fence, but a dozen muskets were lifted from the outside to fire. To jump down on that side was inevitable death. One chance only remained. Possibly the gate now was not watched! I sprang back into the yard, and other guards were after me. The prison-door was open, and I entered, seeking to pa.s.s through it as before, and get outside the gate for a clear race. But the front door was now guarded also, and, as I turned, I found my pursuers in the back door. I was fairly trapped,--back in the prison again! It was a terrible situation. If I could crush between the two men who stood with loaded muskets in the door, their comrades were outside, and it was simply death to attack them. In sheer desperation, I turned my back upon them, not caring whether they fired or not, and walked up-stairs to a window, from which I could see something of the fearful race still going on, and note the streams of troops pouring towards the prison. My guards pointed their guns at me, but did not offer to come near, and when I walked from the hall window into a room,--not our own, but another which commanded a better view,--I found in it the four Federal soldiers, its former occupants, who had made no attempt to get away, the alarm and the rapid firing which followed convincing them that it was safer to remain where they were.
Parrott and Redd.i.c.k were recaptured inside the wall, like myself. Buffum got over the wall about the same time as Captain Fry, but was less fortunate. A soldier singled him out, and squarely ran him down. When hardly able to drag another step, and with the inexorable armed runner within a rod of him, Buffum tried a ”Yankee trick.” (He was a native of Ma.s.sachusetts.) Sinking down exhausted, he said, ”I surrender. You can go on and get that other fellow,” pointing to one a few rods away.
”No,” answered the man, with a great oath, ”I've got _you_, and I mean to _keep_ you.” So he stood with his gun aimed until some of his comrades arrived, and poor Buffum was marched back to jail. Had the man taken his advice, and looked for a bird in the bush, the one in hand would doubtless have flown. Mason and Bensinger were also captured outside of the wall, making a recapture of six and an escape of nine,--a better result than I had supposed probable when we planned the attempt.
From the window of the front room where I then was I had a good view of the proceedings below. In a short time a large body of troops, including a regiment of cavalry, were drawn up in front of the jail. I heard Colonel Lee give his orders. He said, ”Don't take one of the villains alive. Shoot them down wherever you find them,” with many similar expressions, which were possibly meant for the benefit of those inside the prison as well as for the troops. He also ordered pickets to be placed at the ferries of the Chattahoochee, along the railroad, and also at all cross-roads,--an arrangement that pleased me, for we had agreed to avoid those very places. Our intention had been to travel in the night-time through the woods, and to cross the rivers on logs as far from ferries as possible.
Hearing some confused sounds of distress from the room of the Tennesseeans, I inquired the cause, and learned that a young man, named Barlow, who alone of their number had attempted to escape, had broken his ankle. This injury was received in jumping from the outside fence.
He was driven back to the prison room, where surgical aid was refused, and he finally died after great suffering.
Of all who were up-stairs at the time the alarm was given, only Fry and one other man succeeded in escaping. The latter was a deserter from the rebel army, and being very active and fleet, reached the shelter of the woods in advance of all the fugitives.
From the window I could hear the guards, all night long, talking over their adventures. Generally they praised their own bravery liberally, but occasionally some one who had arrived later would suggest that it was not much to their credit to let unarmed men s.n.a.t.c.h their guns from them; but such suggestions were not kindly received, and the work of self-glorification went on. One of them expressed astonishment at the speed of the Yankees, who had been so long kept in jail; another accounted for it by the abundant practice in running Yankee soldiers had received in battle!
All night long I lay in a hammock which one of the regular soldiers had swung by the window, but now kindly resigned to me, and listened to the boastful conversation below.
”Sadly I thought of the morrow.”
There was little reason to doubt that full vengeance would be dealt to each man who remained in the enemy's power. The news we had received, and which we had agreed in crediting, was the end of all hope. Death, which had stared us in the face so often, could not be far distant now.
Another escape would scarcely be left by the aroused vigilance of the enemy within the realms of possibility. And such a death! No vision of glory to dazzle the sight, and hide the grim monster from view, or wreathe him in flowers. No eye of friends to behold the last struggle.
No sympathy,--nothing but ignominy and an impenetrable darkness, beyond which no loving eye might ever pierce! But even as the cold horror of the scaffold, and the vision of the heartless, jeering crowd rose freshly before me, I looked out in the clear night, and up to the s.h.i.+ning stars, and remembered that I had one Friend,--a Friend who would not fear to stand with me on the scaffold, and who had Himself tasted the bitterness of a public execution. Was it for me he had died,--to show me that no outward shame is too great to be borne by the true heart? With the thought came a still and heavenly peace, while my hope, finding no place on this side, overleaped the darkness of death and dwelt upon the scenes of promised happiness beyond. It is in such hours that the value and supporting power of religion is fully realized.
The next morning the jailer put me back into the room formerly occupied.
When all had gathered, we were only six in number,--Mason, Buffum, Bensinger, Redd.i.c.k, Parrott, and myself. We had enough to talk over for many hours. The jailer, too, had his story to tell. He said that some man put his hand over his mouth and nearly smothered him, but added, with great satisfaction, ”I bit his finger terribly, and gave the rascal a mark he will carry to the grave with him.” However, though he did bite hard, his teeth were not so sharp as he thought, and he had only managed to inflict a slight bruise. I kept my hand out of sight in his presence for a day or two, and he had no idea that I was the person of whom he complained, as his fright prevented his clearly distinguis.h.i.+ng anything.
He was rather cross for a while, and always brought up the guards when he came to feed us.
About the middle of the day some officers came to see us, and talked very roughly. With many threats, they demanded to know what direction our comrades had intended to travel. I was glad of this, as it a.s.sured me that some were still at large. They professed to have killed several, and declared that they meant to kill the others as fast as they were taken. In answer to their demand I told them the truth, as I thought that would do them as little good as anything else. I said,--
”They intend to try to get to the Union lines; and they said that it made little difference which way they went, for our forces have you so completely surrounded, that travelling in _any_ course will do equally well.”
Being unable to get anything more definite, they retired.
Not until our own release did we learn with certainty the fate of our eight comrades. Nothing in this whole story seems more wonderful than their adventures and ultimate success. Two went South, two West, and four others, in two groups, went Northward. To recite the adventures of all would detain us too long, but the reader will expect some account.
We will give two of the four narratives in some detail, and the others more briefly.
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