There are many incidents that happened that I never will be able to relate here in this tale of my escape. As I was saying, when night again set in it found us on our way to complete our travel. We had come a good, long journey without anything occurring of any note for several nights or days, until we got within sixty or seventy miles of the North Carolina line. We had not had anything to eat for several days, except hard corn and once in a while some raw sweet potatoes that we had gathered along the way. We had at this time camped, or stopped, as I should say, in a secluded place in the forest, near a nice ravine, and in the forest quite a distance from any inhabitants. We had been traveling, as we had concluded to do, nights, and to sleep by day, and at this place we had got up just before night on Saturday. We thought we would move on a short distance, when we spied about fifty wild turkeys, and we tried hard to kill some of these, but we could not get near them, so we traveled on for some little distance, when we came to an old grist mill, some ways from any settlement. All around this mill there was corn growing, and it was loose and dry in the husk, so we gathered about a bushel of this corn and shelled it and tried our hands at milling. This mill we found was an old overshot wheel and it had but one run of stone. It seemed it had just been shut down, so we took the corn we had shelled and put it in the hopper. This did surely seem like a great undertaking, but we let it run, raising the gate and letting on a full force. Our small grist ran through the mill very fast, and just as soon as we could we scooped up the damp and smoking meal, and not any too soon either, for just about three-fourths of a mile away came two or three Johnnies on the run to see what had happened. We ran into the woods west of the mill, leaving it running full blast. We ought to have shut down the waste gate to the old mill, but we had no time to lose, as we thought, if we got away. We found some old sacks that we carried our meal in. Now we did not know what use we could make of this meal, but still we thought we might come across some darkey who would make some hoecake out of it.
Well, we traveled along in this timber for some little time, for fear that these rebels would pursue us, and just as night was closing in we came to where there was a woman chopping wood in these woods, and we lay concealed and watched her chop until she got ready to go home. Then we made ourselves known to her. She seemed to be very much frightened all the way home, and when she arrived at her house she told us that she had a husband in the army—I think in the Union army—at Knoxville, Tenn., and she told us how she was left with one boy and two girls. Her boy, just a few days before we arrived there, had been caught in the house, right on the hearth in the log cabin, where we now were, and had been shot down at his own mother’s feet. He had been conscripted some months before and had been a wanderer in the forest, pursued by home guards, as they were called, but they were nothing but bands of guerillas, scattered all over the states, and this poor woman told Henry and I that her husband had been a good Union man before and since the war. It did seem strange that this poor woman should be compelled to cut this four-foot coal wood with which to make charcoal, and this was also used in making powder to shoot our Union boys.
Oh, yes, after she had related this sad story to us, she urged us to leave her house just as soon as we could, for she declared that there would soon be a band of rebel home guards along, and that they would kill us as soon as captured. We let her have the corn meal. I think that we had done the first milling in the southern country in the manufacture of corn meal. I have often heard the rumble of that old mill in my imagination since we left it running away. Oh, such speed, and such smoking from the fast heating stones!
Well, as I was saying, this woman told us that there was a poor old colored man down in a valley south of the house where she lived, about three-fourths of a mile away. We had not yet left her house, south of the road, when we heard the clatter of hoofs and of galloping steeds. At least two hundred of these home guards, or cut throats, as they were more commonly called, came rapidly up to this poor woman’s house and halted for a few moments. We kept concealed to see what might turn up, and as soon as they went on we went down the valley until we came to the place that we had been directed to—the old colored man’s hut. This was about eight o’clock in the evening and we saw to our amazement a little hut in the side of the west bank of this valley bluff. In front of this hut stood the poor old pilgrim, singing a beautiful hymn. We had found again one of God’s true servants. He seemed to be about eighty years old. He had been in some way taught to read, and had a good idea of his Divine Creator. Well we had a good meeting with the old man, but all we found to eat, that the poor old man made us welcome to, was a small piece of mutton chops and about a pint of beans. After a long talk, he told us there was a good old Quaker whom he knew would befriend us if we would go with him. After he had declared the Quaker to be a truly good man we finally concluded to trust the old man, but we decided to keep our eyes on him while we went with him. He also told us that this man had a large sugar plantation, which he worked very late nights. Now our fare of chops and beans was becoming very slim, and we began to get very hungry. I tell you it is hard to relate what a hungry man wouldn’t do before he would allow himself to starve to death. This I have had the sad experience of witnessing, and I pray to God it will never occur again. Well, this Quaker’s place was about one and one-half miles from the old darkey’s place. We started at about 9:30 o’clock, and after we arrived at the plantation the house we found was a large brick structure. Just beyond we could hear the sound of mills grinding cane and the noise of the factory. We went just a little ways from the old planter’s house and here Mr. Ledierer and myself waited, while the old darkey went on to get the old planter, or to see him in our behalf. Now, for fear the old man was working some scheme to betray us, I went on ahead of where Henry was to hear what the conversation might be. As soon as the planter had heard the old darkey’s story, he discharged all of his hands and came to where we were. I was about ten yards in advance of Henry when they came along, and just as soon as I heard their talk I was convinced that we had fallen into the hands of a Godly man and a true christian pilgrim Quaker. Just as soon as he met us he took us by the hand, called on God to bless us, and whatever lay in store for us. Thank God, dear reader, for these apostles of Christ!
We went to the old planter’s house and he had a boy stationed near the corners of the road to keep watch for anyone who might be coming, for the home guards would go by at most all hours of the day and night. Well, soon the kind old Quaker let us know that our midnight repast awaited us and he invited us to come and sit down to their table where his loving wife was seated. Here was a table spread with clean linen and napkins, and we poor, starved, walking skeletons without anything but rags to cover our feet from the snow and wet! Our drawers and shirts were made up of all of our attire, and oh, imagine our feelings, to be seated at such a repast that awaited us! And as we sat down to the table of our hostess and folded our arms as he returned thanks to his Supreme Maker the tears flowed from my eyes as I thought of home and my dear old mother. That table and its clean spread put me in mind of her. My dear comrade, though as brave as any man I believe I have ever met sat by my side, and as we sat there thinking of the embarrassed situation we were in, we were like two weak children. The hostess sympathized with us in our distress. Well, we soon took hold of the repast, for we had not eaten but a very few meals to a table in over two and a half years. They were very anxious for us to tell what we had suffered in prison and seemed delighted to hear of our experiences. We would sit up evenings and tell of these incidents. We had stayed with this good old Quaker four days, and the fourth day we had it understood that we would start again on our journey. So when the time came for us to go it seemed like parting with the best of friends, leaving them never to meet again. I have often thought and truly believe that God will reward these good people for their many kindnesses to us. Now when all things were in readiness they furnished us with a large sack of stewed chicken and a mess of cakes, the best they could furnish, and with good advice we parted. The name of this man I have forgotten in this narrative. I wish to mention the excellent concealment that this good man had for us in his barn during our stay with him. He had a very nice barn which was on the south side of the road. It seems that the road runs east and west, and on the west side of the barn there was a large hay mow, and in the further end from the door he pulled out a large bundle of hay tied up in good shape which revealed a passage clear around the back of the mow and to the ether end. There was a good bed that we slept on during our stay there, and through the day our food would be brought to us, and nearly every day, through a knot hole we could see guerillas going by, and sometimes stopping and looking around the place. Now I come back again to where we parted. The kind old man had given us the direction where we could meet another man on our way who was friendly to Union soldiers. We tried to find his place on this shallow road which was about thirty-five or forty miles distant from this Quaker’s plantation. He told us to be sure and remember that his name was John Coltraines. He also told us about this man’s having a brother about a mile further along on the same road by the name of “Bill” Coltraines. One of these brothers was a Union man and the other a rebel. John, the kind old Quaker told us, was engaged in piloting Union men, as well as rebels, through our lines. The first night, not getting started as early as we ought, we only got about eight or ten miles on our way when we stopped and concealed ourselves. We had been living rather sumptuously and sleeping nights instead of laying still by day and traveling by night. We laid by this night. Henry and I lay concealed the best part of the next day, planning what we intended to do when we arrived home. We talked of either going to his parents’ place or to my folks’ home.
We would conceal ourselves until everybody had gone and then we would take possession and have everything to ourselves, and have everything to eat that we could think of. Being starved as we had been seemed to weaken our minds. Well, dear reader, if you could have seen the plight we were in and some of the nests of leaves that we gathered up for many a night to cuddle up in to snatch a few hours’ rest and to inspect the tattered drawers and shirt that covered our starved skeletons, your sympathy would have been aroused. Soon the day dawned again and we lay concealed, sleeping and eating until toward night. Our stopping with the Quaker planter seemed to get us more in the notion of eating and of having some regular time in which to eat, but we could not let the sack of food alone which we allowed would last us four or five days. It surprised us how soon it was gone, for before night of Saturday we had eaten about all we had started with.
We started again about eight o’clock to make more progress than we had the night before, hoping to find our friend, John Coltraines, of whom the good old Quaker had told us. We had to go very slow on the start, for this was a main thoroughfare and a state road, along which there was a good deal of travel. We were liable to run into rebels at most any time, but after about ten o’clock we had less danger of meeting with any travelers on the way. There were squads of rebels traveling along this road at all hours of the night, so we concluded to travel and make all the headway possible. We had traveled most of the night, which was far spent, and I had been stopping all along the way asking for something to eat, but had not been able to get anything. Once or twice I had been driven from the door with double-barreled shot guns.
