Being exhausted by our journey through a swamp, which would have been deemed impassable had we not been urged on by hopes before and fears behind, we stopped for a time to gather strength for new efforts, hoping before sunrise to be beyond the reach of successful pursuit. Again we began our march, and near midnight we saw the picket-fires near Burnt Ordinary, but supposed them to be those of the rebels, as we had been told by the man who had betrayed us, that the rebels had a picket-guard at that place, which was true; but that evening, before we reached there, the Union cavalry had driven them away, and the fires we saw were those of our own pickets. Our narrow escape had rendered us very cautious; and having every reason to believe that the fires in sight were those of the enemy, we passed around them at what we thought a safe distance, and then struck out for Williamsburg, then, as we afterward learned, about twelve miles distant. We had not gone far before we were halted. Inquiring of the sentinel who he was, and where we were, he informed us that he belonged to the Eleventh Pennsylvania Cavalry, which was under Gen. Butler's command. As we had tried to play Confederate ourselves, we were not certain but that this might be one of them trying to play Yankee. After questioning him very closely, and being fully satisfied that he was "all right," we advanced. When we got up to him he told us that he and his comrades had been sent out on that advanced post in order to meet and aid prisoners who were said to have escaped from Libby Prison; and, added he, "I guess you are some of them." We told him we were, and he expressed great pleasure at meeting with us, and we felt what words never can express—a joy which can never be felt save by those who, after privations and anxieties like ours, feel that they are safe at last.
The sentinel then conducted us to the reserve-post, where we were warmly greeted, every one proffering aid in one way or another. After warming ourselves at the camp-fire, the officer in command, seeing our need of food and rest, proposed to send us on to the camp; and asked his men if any of them would furnish us with horses. "You can have mine! you can have mine!" was heard on every side, all seeming eager to help us; and soon we were well mounted, and on our way to the main body. We were conducted to Capt. Akerly's quarters, who gave us a hearty welcome; and though it was now after midnight, he soon had a good supper, with the luxurious addition of a cup of hot coffee, prepared for us, and congratulations on our good fortune poured in on all sides. After giving him a brief account of our trials, we informed him that it was reported through the country that the Federal pickets were advanced as far as Barnsville, which we now had learned was not the case; and we feared that some of our friends who had escaped might, on hearing this, venture in there and be recaptured. The Captain told us that he was about sending a company in that direction just before we got in—that they were now preparing to start, and he would have them keep a sharp lookout for our friends. Just then Lieut. Palmer reported to the Captain for orders, saying that the detachment was ready to move. The Captain put in his possession all that he had just learned from us; and he was about leaving, when my comrade, Lieut. Fislar, sprang up, asked to be furnished with a horse and saber, and to be permitted to accompany him in search of our companions, who were still subjected to the dangers which we had so narrowly escaped. His request was granted, and he was soon in the saddle and away.
This act was characteristic of the man; and when it is remembered that he had been on the march near thirty hours, had just been hunted by the rebels like a pack of hounds in full cry, had just crossed a swamp which most men would have deemed madness to attempt, it must be regarded as noble and chivalrous in the highest degree. Most men, under similar circumstances, would eagerly have embraced the opportunity offered and needed for rest; but with a most unselfish devotion he forgot past dangers and present weariness, in his great desire for the safety of those, his former companions, who, cold, hungry, and half clad, were struggling still through forests and swamps to freedom.
The next morning, having been furnished with horse, sword, and pistol, I moved forward with the column, which was composed of picked men from three companies of the Eleventh Pennsylvania Cavalry. My position was in front with the Captain—every man with eager eyes on the look-out for the late inmates of Libby. We had not advanced more than two miles before we saw two men emerge from a thicket and regard us anxiously; they were immediately recognized as escaped prisoners; but O, what emotions filled my heart when I saw and knew the well-known forms and faces of Maj. Fitzsimmons and Capt. Gallagher, of the old working party—companions in suffering, and soon to be partakers of joy such as mine! Spurring my horse in advance of the rest, and swinging my hat and cheering as I went, I hastened to meet my old companions—and seldom is so much joy pressed into a few brief moments as was ours when we met; we wept, we laughed, we shouted aloud in our joy, and warmer, gladder greetings will never be exchanged till we meet in the land where there are no partings. Our men came up and welcomed the fugitives warmly—not a man in the band who was not willing to dismount and let the wearied ones ride; and together we rode in search of others whom we doubted not were near; and during the day eleven more were added to our number—each one of them increasing our joy. I have known hours in my captivity when I have almost lost faith in man; but that day my faith in humanity was restored. To see those poor, hunted, suffering, wearied ones treated with all the tenderness and affection of brothers, by men whom they had never met till that hour, was sufficient to convince the most skeptical that earth yet abounds in warm, unselfish hearts. As we rode along we talked of our past trials, and the dangers we had passed since the night we parted in the cellar of Libby Prison, and speculated concerning the fate of others, whom we trusted would be as fortunate as ourselves, and to whom we would have borne aid, could we but have found them, at the risk of life itself.
During the day we had several skirmishes with the rebel scouts, and captured a few horses and accouterments, and returned the same evening to Williamsburg, when another detachment was sent out on a mission similar to that in which we had been engaged; and I need not say they bore with them our warmest wishes for their success.
With regard to the officers and men of the Eleventh Pennsylvania Cavalry, I can say, with truth, that they are the most daring, energetic, and enterprising men that I have met with since I have been in the service—the bravest of the brave; and the work which they fail in will be left undone. But this is not their highest praise—since I left my mother's care I have never felt so much like a baby as I have since I fell into their hands; nothing that could minister to the comfort of myself and comrades was left undone; they are as kind and tender as they are brave and true. God bless them, every one! The sutler of the regiment is worthy of special mention. When we reached our lines we were nearly all destitute of shoes and socks, and some even of other articles of clothing. Whatever we needed he readily furnished, and refused to receive any thing at our hands in return; but he can not refuse, I am sure, the heart-felt gratitude which will spring up in every one of our breasts at the recollection of the kindness shown by George M'Alpine.
During our stay at Williamsburg most of us remained with the Eleventh Pennsylvania—a few, however, were with the First New York Mounted Rifles; and they really seemed to strive to see which could treat us best. Our party had now increased to twenty-six—every new arrival was loudly and warmly greeted; the adventures of many of them were strange and stirring. May they live to tell their wondering grandchildren the story of their sufferings in Libby, and their marvelous escape!
We were all furnished with transportation to Yorktown. From thence we went by boat to Fortress Monroe, and were conducted by Gen. Wistar to head-quarters, and introduced to Gen. Butler, who expressed the greatest pleasure at our escape, and only regretted that some of our number had again fallen into the hands of the enemy. We had, of course, to go over the story of our treatment while in the hands of the rebels, and our perils on the way to the Union lines; and were made to feel the contrast by the attention bestowed upon us. Every heart seemed full of sympathy, and every tongue had a kind word. For ourselves, words were powerless to express the gratitude we felt for such constant kindness. The General ordered dinner to be prepared for our entire party, and authorized us to draw upon his quartermaster for any thing we needed; every wish seemed to be anticipated, every desire gratified—save one, the earnest longing for home. Even this was soon granted, by furnishing us transportation to Washington; from which place we started to our various homes; and O, how glad was our welcome! Many had mourned us as dead, and our return was like the grave giving up those it had once claimed as its own; and we were unutterably glad to be under the old flag and at home once more.