Part 7 (1/2)

With Andrews, the parting was peculiarly affecting; we had been accustomed to look up to him in all emergencies. He was our leader, and was the particular mark for the vengeance of the foe. Officers, in bidding us hope, spoke no words of comfort to him. He bore this like a hero, as he was, and continued to hope against hope. But now, after we had sung our songs together for the last time, and come to bid him farewell, we were moved even to tears. I will never forget his last words, as he silently pressed our hands, and with a tear in his blue eye, and a low, sweet voice, that thrilled through my inmost being, said: ”Boys, if I never see you here again, try to meet me on the other side of Jordan.” It was our last earthly meeting.

Colonel Claiborne accompanied us to the cars, where we found we were to be escorted by a detachment of Morgan's celebrated guerillas. Claiborne gave orders for our humane treatment, saying: ”They are men, like other men, and gentlemen too, and I want them treated as such.” When he left, I felt we had parted from a friend, rebel as he was.

Claiborne's parting charge procured us courtesy from our guard. Indeed, they were a much better cla.s.s of men than the great ma.s.s of the Southern army. Several of them told us that they had enlisted with Morgan only to make money, and were getting it fast. All were well dressed in citizens' clothes, and had the language and manners of gentlemen. They had another motive in treating us kindly. A large number of their own band were now in the hands of the government, and were equally liable with ourselves, under every rule of right, to be treated as criminals; for they had not only dressed in citizens' clothes, but had even a.s.sumed our uniform wherever it was their interest to do so. They were indignant to see us in irons, and said they would not be afraid to guard us with our limbs free, but did not, of course, dare to remove our fastenings.

We had been started as usual, without any rations, on the calculation that we should fast till we reached our destination, which would be in about twenty-four hours. But our guerilla friends would not permit this. They bought pies, and literally feasted us, saying that their money was plenty, and when it was gone they could easily get more from our men. We hoped that we might have Morgan's men for our escort in all future migrations.

We arrived in Knoxville shortly after noon, and marched through the hot, dusty streets, directly to the old jail. This is now a historical edifice. It will forever remain a.s.sociated with the extreme sufferings of the loyal East Tennesseeans, during the progress of the great rebellion.

The building itself is a n.o.ble one, and resembles some old baronial hall. It is of a peculiar style of architecture-solid, square and ma.s.sive, with lofty projecting towers and sharp angles-altogether presenting an imposing appearance. It was used as a military prison, and was filled from top to bottom with ragged, dirty-looking prisoners. Some were Union men, and others were deserters from their own rebel ranks. These const.i.tuted the lower cla.s.s of prisoners, and were permitted to range over most of the building, which was completely encircled outside by a strong guard.

The higher cla.s.s, or those who were charged with more desperate offences, were shut up in cages. There were five of these. Two of them were at once cleared for our reception. The smaller one was about seven feet by nine, and four of us were put into it. The larger, in which the remainder of the party were placed, was perhaps ten by twelve. The latter was the cage in which Parson Brownlow had been confined, and we felt honored by being in the same cell that this n.o.ble champion of the Union had once occupied.

While in this cage, we read an article in a copy of the Knoxville Register, stating that Brownlow was in the North, humbugging the Yankees by telling them that he had been kept in an iron cage, and fired at by his guards, when everybody in that vicinity knew that the whole thing was a falsity. Even while we read this, we looked at the shot-marks which were still visible on the cage, and which the guards and prisoners a.s.sured us had been made in the way Brownlow stated. This may serve as a specimen of the manner in which Southern papers are accustomed to deal with facts.

It was in the latter part of May when we arrived in Knoxville, and outside, the weather was intensely warm, but inside, from the enormous ma.s.ses of stone and iron around, it was quite cool. Indeed the nights, which are always cool, even in midsummer, in the warmest parts of the South, were here very cold, and as we had no beds or blankets, but had to lie on the partly iron floor, we suffered greatly.

Here we formed the acquaintance of a few Tennesseeans, who continued with us during the remainder of our sojourn in Dixie. One of the most remarkable of their number was named Pierce. He was some sixty years old, and had received a stroke with a gun-barrel, right down his forehead, which, even after healing, had left a gash more than an inch deep. From this he was denominated, ”Gun-barrel,” ”Forked head,” &c. He was at the same time very religious and very profane. His voice would first be heard singing hymns, and next cursing the Confederacy in no measured terms. He was, however, a very clever man, and almost adored the name of a Union soldier.

Here it was that we first became acquainted with Captain Fry. He was confined in a cage in another room. We could not get to see him, but could entrust little notes, written on the margin of newspapers, to the more faithful of the outside prisoners, and were always sure of a reply.

There was one man in the same room with me, but in another cage, in whom I became especially interested. He was between seventy and eighty years old, and was awaiting sentence of death. Before his arrest he had been a Union man, and, of course, a marked object of suspicion to his secession neighbors. A band of these came one night for the purpose of robbing him. He endeavored to prevent them, when they attacked him, drawing revolvers and bowie-knives. They fired several shots, and pursued him. He dodged around old barrels and other pieces of furniture in the outhouse where the a.s.sault was made, for some time, until finally he managed to seize a pitch-fork and plunge it into the foremost of his foes; then breaking away, he escaped for the time. The robber whom he wounded afterwards died, and the Confederate government arrested the old man, and confined him in the cage on a charge of murder! I never heard the result of it, but have no doubt that he has long since been hung.

We obtained quite a number of papers while here, and were much pleased to learn of the continued progress of our arms, particularly in the West. The taking of Fort Pillow, the evacuation of Memphis and Corinth, with the destruction of the rebel flotilla on the Mississippi, all came out in one paper; and the editor complained that he had been restrained from publis.h.i.+ng this by the government for more than two weeks after the intelligence arrived.

One day we received news that sent the blood coursing through our veins in swifter flow. It was that Andrews and one other of our party had escaped from Chattanooga!

Here, to preserve the unity of the story, I will give a history of the events that took place at Chattanooga subsequent to our departure.

No unusual event occurred until a week after we had left. Then, one day, an officer entered the yard, where our boys were enjoying the shade of the prison, in the cool of the afternoon, and carelessly handed to Andrews his death-warrant! It was a terrible shock, but was borne bravely. He communicated the startling intelligence to our comrades as soon as they again a.s.sembled in their room. At once they resolved to carry into immediate execution the long-projected plan of escape, on which now depended their leader's only chance of life.

He was separated from them, and put down into the dungeon. But this did not interfere with their plans, for with the same knife which was so serviceable in making keys, a hole was cut above the bolts of the trap-door, allowing it to be raised. This done, which was late at night, they drew Andrews up by blankets, and then went to work cutting another hole through the ceiling. While they were performing the most noisy part of this operation, they deadened the sound by singing. The jailor afterward remarked that he might have known there was something the matter by their singing so mournfully.

When all their preparations were completed, the gray tint of dawn was just beginning to rise in the east. There was no time to lose. Andrews quickly mounted aloft. A rope was formed of some twisted blankets, and the next moment he was swinging outside of the wall. But in pa.s.sing through the hole he loosened some bricks which fell to the ground, and thus gave the alarm. The accident caused him to drop his boots, which he afterward sorely needed.

The guard was instantly aroused, but Andrews dropped to the ground, darted to the fence, and was over before he could be prevented. John Wollam followed, and even while suspended in the air by the blankets, was fired upon. Fortunately, the hands of the guards were too unsteady to inflict any injury, and he, too, succeeded in getting out of the yard in safety.

Now the excitement became intense. All Chattanooga was roused, and the whole force started in pursuit of the flying fugitives. The officers hurried to the prison and roundly berated our boys because they did not give the alarm when their comrades were escaping! Colonel Claiborne, the Marshal, who had shown us some humanity, was summarily dismissed from his office for that cause alone! And the press came out in the most violent language, denouncing the officers in charge, and particularly General Leadbetter, for their false philanthropy in not having us chained to the floor in such a manner as to make escape impossible.

Our flying comrades had separated as soon as they left the prison. It was now daylight, and they could not continue their flight without the most imminent danger of discovery. Andrews went only a few hundred yards from town, and there secreted himself in a tree, in plain view of the railroad. He remained all day in this uncomfortable position, and saw the trains running under his feet, and heard his pursuers speculating as to what course he could have taken. The search was most thorough; but, fortunately, his umbrageous shelter was secure.

At night he came down and swam the river, but lost most of his clothing in the pa.s.sage; he then journeyed on nearly naked. In the morning, just at the break of day, he crossed a small open field on his way to a tree, in which he intended to take shelter, as he had done the day before; but, unfortunately, he was observed. Immediately pursuit was made, but he dashed through the woods, and regained the river, much lower down than he had crossed the evening before. Here he swam a narrow channel, and reached a small island, where, for a time, he secreted himself among some driftwood at the upper end of the island.

A party with bloodhounds now came over from the mainland in search of him. He was soon observed, but broke away from them, and ran around the lower end of the island, wading in the shallow water, and in this way threw the hounds off his track; then he plunged into a dense thicket, with which the island was covered, and again ascended a tree. There, for a long time, he remained securely concealed, while his pursuers searched the whole island, being frequently under the very tree whose high foliage effectually screened him from the sight of dogs and men. At last they abandoned the search in despair, concluding that he had, by some means, left the island, and slowly took their departure to the sh.o.r.e to concert new plans of search. Two little boys, who came along merely for curiosity, were all that still lingered behind.

At length, in their childish prattle, one of them said he saw a great bunch on a tree. The other looked-s.h.i.+fted his position-looked again, and exclaimed that it was a man! This alarmed them both, and they called aloud, announcing the discovery to their friends on sh.o.r.e. The latter instantly returned, and Andrews, seeing himself observed, dropped from the tree, ran to the lower end of the island, took a small log, with a limb for a paddle, and shoved into the stream, hoping to reach the opposite sh.o.r.e before he could be overtaken. But there was another party with a skiff, lower down the river, who saw him, and rowed out to meet him. Thus enclosed, there was no hope, and he surrendered.

He was in a most wretched condition, having eaten nothing since he left the jail. His feet were all cut and bleeding from running over the sharp stones, and his back and shoulders were parched and blistered from exposure, unprotected, to the rays of the sun. He said he felt so miserable that the thought of the certain death, to which he then resigned himself, had no further terror for him.

He was brought back to Chattanooga, where a blacksmith welded a pair of heavy clevises on his ankles, and connected them with a chain only about eighteen inches in length. He had then but few more days to live, and his confinement was most rigid. They prepared a scaffold for him at Chattanooga, but the indications of an advance by Mitchel, induced them to change the death scene to Atlanta. All the way down to that place he was taunted with his approaching doom by the mobs who surrounded every station. Our eight comrades accompanied him to Atlanta, but parted as soon as they arrived-they going to prison, and he to the place of execution. He was compelled to walk, all ironed as he was, and the clanking of his chains no doubt made sweet music in the ears of these human bloodhounds.