Upon our arrival at Franklin we were taken to the jail, but before we were locked up, Doctor Moore, of the village, invited us to his house to dinner, and upon his agreeing to be responsible for our safe return, we were allowed to go with him unattended by any guard. Although no promise had been exacted from us not to escape, we would not have attempted to leave, had an outlet presented itself. We would have considered it a base betrayal of his confidence, as much so as the violation of a parole, to have taken advantage of so kind and generous a host. We were received at his house with all the cordiality of distinguished guests, and nothing was said or done, by any member of the family, that could be construed into a hint that we were other than welcome visitors.
Dr. Moore was an ardent supporter of the Confederacy, but was too much of a gentleman to allude to any thing during our visit, that would be offensive to our ears. Books and papers were on the parlor table, photographs of the family and friends were shown us; a stereoscope was also on the table, supplied with views of scenes both in the North and South. I was looking at some of the views, when I, without knowing what it was, put one into the stereoscope and looking at it, almost imagined that I was in New York. It was a view of Broadway from the Battery up. Oh! how this picture reminded me of home. It seemed as though I could call a stage by raising my hand. I looked at it long and earnestly, so long that I almost forgot my surroundings, forgot everything, and was again among friends at home.
Altogether, we passed a very pleasant afternoon with the genial doctor and his interesting family.
As we were leaving, Mrs. Moore and a neighbor, Mrs. Siler, having noticed our stockingless feet, presented us each with a pair of nice, warm, woolen socks, that they had knitted for some member of their own family, and filling a basket with choice apples and potatoes, sent them with us to the jail, which was to be our quarters that night. Arriving at the jail, we found that the doctor, thoughtful of our comfort, had caused a fire to be built in the wide fireplace, the cheerful glow of which made our imprisonment more tolerable. These little acts of kindness left a green spot in our memory of prison life, that still remains as an oasis in the otherwise cheerless desert we passed through. When God makes up his rewards and punishments, I am sure he will say to the kind-hearted doctor and his family, “I was sick and in prison, and ye visited me.”
The next day a Mr. Johnson was detailed as our guard, and instead of staying with us at the jail, he invited us to his house, where he kept us over night, giving us a good clean bed and a good supper and breakfast, and treating us as had Doctor Moore, more as guests than as prisoners.
The next day we were started for Ashville, N. C., with a guard, under Lieutenant Ammon. The Lieutenant, sympathizing with me in my enfeebled condition, furnished me with a mule to ride, and showed me every kindness possible.
One of our guard on this trip was Hon. Thomas S. Siler, ex-member of Assembly of Macon county. He was a very agreeable gentleman, who still had a strong attachment for the Union. He was intelligent and well posted on every subject, and my conversation with him during the march, seemed to lessen the tediousness of the journey.
We arrived at Ashville, N. C., on the 7th of November, and were crowded into an upper room in the jail, about twelve feet square, in which there were besides us, twenty-seven rebel deserters, two of them sick with the measles. I had not been able up to this time, to do anything for my swollen and inflamed legs, and they were in a most frightful condition, causing me intense pain and suffering, so much so that I was fearful of losing them entirely, as they had been neglected so long. A surgeon visited me in the jail, and recommended my removal to the hospital, but although I offered to give my parole for that purpose, Colonel Lowe, who was in command, refused to allow me to be sent there.
The room was so full, that it was impossible for all of us to lie down at once, and we were obliged to take turns standing up. Our water closet consisted of a wooden pail in one corner of the room, which was twice a day carried out and emptied by the guard; as we were none of us allowed to leave the room for any purpose. The intolerable stench from this pail, and the filthy slops around it, was enough to create an epidemic.
The atmosphere of the room was simply insufferable, and we were obliged to keep the windows raised, notwithstanding the cold weather, in order to get ventilation. We had one old stove in the room, but our supply of wood was quite insufficient to keep the temperature anything like comfortable, although the village was surrounded by good timber.