But, after all, my time had not arrived. By the 22nd of May I was able to sit up in bed, propped up by five or six pillows. It was on that day, and while in that position, that Rube, a true and faithful black boy whom C. A. P. had left to take care of me, rushed into my room, adjoining Mrs. Nowell’s, saying that the Yankees were searching the hotel.
Though I was still very feeble, I knew well what to do and say. I requested Rube to leave the door, as it then was, a little open, and to go about just as if he were one of the hotel waiters. Having escaped detection so often before, and being in one of the rooms known as “the family suite,” I thought it probable that I might escape again. But I am now pretty sure that some one had reported me to the military, because two Yankee officers came direct to my room, walked in without knocking, and seated themselves near my bedside. Very soon they introduced, as cause for their presence and intrusion, several inquiries, such as, “How long have you been ill, sir?” or “What command do you belong to?” and “When do you think you will be able to report to the provost marshal?”
I answered their questions by saying that I did not know when I would be able to report, and they said, “But when do you think?” I said, “You see my condition. When do you think?” But neither of them could tell me.
These remarks and similar ones that passed made me quite angry, and I said just what I thought and pleased. Besides, I did not like the style of their entrance. Each had a pair of navy pistols, and each had his sabre drawn, as if he expected to see the Devil, instead of a sick Rebel. Then, leaving me for a moment, they returned with a parole, which instructed me to report, when I was well enough, to the provost marshal, and this I signed with a feeble hand. One of these officers was a captain of the Third O. V. I. from Belmont County, the other was Sam Piper, of Barnesville, his second lieutenant.
As soon as the Yankees were gone, Mrs. Nowell made her appearance, weeping and lamenting. Both she and Rube were very much displeased with the new programme. When the first of June came I was sufficiently strong to venture to the provost marshal’s office to show myself to Lieutenant Colonel Burke of the Tenth Ohio Volunteer Infantry, the provost marshal. My skeleton-like appearance gained his sympathy, and all he requested was for me to report myself daily at 9 o’clock A. M. This I did until the 5th of August.
Then, on the 5th of August, I was started out, under a heavy guard, and with three other officers of our army, for some Northern bastile.
All this time Mrs. Nowell was like a kind mother to me, and Rube was attentive and obedient at all times. I placed him under Mrs. Nowell’s care when I left. The inhabitants—for there was only one Union man, Judge Lane, in the city—treated me with the greatest kindness and attention, offering me everything that one could wish for. I was the only Confederate prisoner on parole then, all the others having been sent North, and during my evening walks crowds of beautiful girls and young ladies would accompany me, much to the displeasure of the Yankees. And I would return from my walks always ladened with the richest, rarest flowers that ever grew in any clime.
This was, indeed, a reward that made a soldier’s heart swell with pride. How it gladdens the heart to receive such marked attentions from the hands of the beautiful and fair! Long and happily may the fair ones of Huntsville live!
On my route to Louisville, Kentucky, I passed over the Tennessee and Alabama Railroad to Nashville, thence over the Louisville and Nashville, and in sight of home. Yet not a muscle betrayed itself, nor was there a sigh to show that the “Rebel” had any desire to see loved ones. However, he felt it deeply; but a proud spirit, still unconquered, scorned the idea that his guard be permitted the gratification of knowing that he suffered.
On arriving in Louisville I was exhibited to a staring populace as one of “Morgan’s men,” and this knowledge caused them to show me a rope with a hangman’s knot in it. This, they said, was for my special benefit. If I had enlisted in this war to be frightened by scare-crows I might have been frightened, but as I did not, the amusement was entirely at their expense. But do not think that all the people in the city were of this mind. Assuredly not. I saw many bright eyes beaming, many fair faces smiling on the old gray, and I saw many snowy handkerchiefs slyly flirted at the risk of prison walls, and—in spite of them!