That day or the next I noticed several wagons going past loaded with fresh meat, bread, vegetables and other articles of food. I inquired where all that food was going and was told, "To your old camp." "Have they got recruits there now?" I asked. "No," was the reply, "Confederate prisoners." It looked to me as though they were well cared for.
I certainly was well done up. For the first two weeks I did not do much but eat and sleep. It seemed as though I would never get filled up and rested. I would eat breakfast and, before I knew it, be asleep. After I had been there a week or more, one evening my wife's two sisters, young ladies, said, "Father, are you going to the hall this evening to hear the lecture?" "No," he said, "I had not intended to and do not know as I care to." "It will be a fine lecture," they told him, "Doctor so-and-so of New York City. We would like to go but have no one to escort us." I said, "Girls, why don't you invite me?" "We would be delighted to have you go, but fear you would go to sleep," they said. I promised to try to keep awake and we went.
While waiting for the lecture to begin I felt weary, leaned forward, put my forehead on the back of the seat in front and the next thing I knew they shook me up and said it was time to go home.
When I arrived in Elmira I of course reported to Washington that I had escaped, giving my whereabouts. After two or three weeks I received an order to proceed to Annapolis, Maryland, where the exchanged prisoners were received and cared for. After being there a few days I received an order to report to Lieutenant-Colonel Will W. Clark of the 85th New York, at Roanoke Island, North Carolina, who was there with a few of the 85th who were not at Plymouth at the time of the capture.
On arriving there on December 23rd, I found awaiting me Special Order Number 439 by which I was mustered out and discharged by reason of the expiration of my time of service; but which I suppose meant that I did not have any command. I then returned to my home in New York City and the war fortunately was soon over.
So far as I know Captain George H. Starr of Yonkers, New York, and myself are the only persons living of the ten who reached home together.
After arriving at our homes, and after the war had ended we all contributed to a financial remembrance to the "high sheriff" and endeavored to express to him our very great obligation for his remarkable kindness and efficient help to us when we were all in such a critical plight, near the boundary which divided the north from the south during our flight for freedom.