After supper, mine host endeavoured to remove the heavy iron bands by which my ankles were clasped. This was accomplished after considerable labour. I asked him to retain the bands till called for, which he promised to do. The good lady furnished me with water and a suit of her husband’s clothes. After performing a thorough ablution, I donned the suit, and felt completely metamorphosed, and was thoroughly disguised, as my new suit had been made for a man of vastly larger physical proportions. I spent the night with my new friends, during which a heavy thunder-storm passed over. Had I been out in the drenching rain in my wretched condition, I must surely have perished. In the morning my host informed me of a Union man who knew the country in the direction of Rienzi, the point which I now determined to reach. This gentleman lived half a mile distant, and my host accompanied me to a thicket near his house, where I concealed myself till he brought Mr. —— to me. Said my friend No. 2, “I am not familiar with the route to Rienzi, but will go with you to friend No. 3, who I am positive is well acquainted with the road. He can take you through the woods, so as to avoid the Confederate cavalry. As I undertake this at the risk of my life, we must wait till night. I would gladly have you come to my house, but I fear that it might transpire through my children that I had helped you to escape. I have a large family, and most of ’em is gals, and you know gals will talk. You can stay in my barn till I come for you. I will carry you provisions during the day, and to-night we will go to my friend’s.”
About three o’clock in the morning, he came with two horses, one of which he mounted, and I the other. The horse I rode was a blooded animal, and to use my friend’s expression, could run like a streak of lightning. I provided myself with a good whip, resolving, in case of danger, to put my horse to his utmost speed. A short time after daylight, we reached friend No. 3, who promised to conduct me to Rienzi. While at his house, I learned that a Unionist, Mr. N——, had been killed under circumstances of the greatest cruelty. His sentiments had become known to the rebels. He was arrested by their cavalry, and refusing to take the oath, they resolved to put him to death on the spot. He had a large family of small children, who, together with his wife, begged that his life might be spared. He himself had no favours to ask of the secessionists. Among his foes, the only point of dispute was, as to the mode of his death. Some favoured shooting, some hanging; but the prevailing majority were in favour of scalding him to death. And there, in the presence of his weeping and helpless family, these fiends in human form deliberately heated water, with which they scalded to death their chained and defenceless victim. Thus perished a patriot of whom the State was not worthy. The corpse was then suspended from a tree, with a label on the breast, stating that whoever cut him down and buried him, should suffer the same fate. My companions cut down the corpse by night, and buried it in the forest. May God reward them!
My friend No. 3 thought that it would be best to travel in daylight. He could follow by-paths, and avoid the rebel cavalry. We started about eight o’clock on Friday morning, and met with no incident worth narrating until we reached a mill; here we fell in with some six or seven rebel soldiers, who had been out on sick furlough, and were returning. They scanned us closely, and inquired whence we came, and whither bound. My friend specified a neighbourhood from which he affirmed we came, and stated that we were hunting stray oxen, asking whether they had seen a black ox and a pied ox in their travels. They replied in the negative; and in turn asked him who I was. He replied that I was his wife’s brother, who had come from Alabama about three months ago. They said I looked like “death on a pale hoss,” and wished to know what was the matter with me—if I were consumptive. My friend replied that I had had the chills for several months; and as there was no quinine in the country, it was impossible to stop them.
During this inquisition, I was ready at any moment to put spur to my horse, and run a race for life, had any attempt been made to arrest me, or if I had been recognised by any of the soldiers. We were, however, permitted to pass on, not without some suspicious glances. We at length reached a point ten miles from Rienzi. My guide now insisted on returning. It would be morning ere he reached home, and if met by cavalry, he must invent some plausible excuse for having a led horse. Nor did he dare return by the same route. Knowing the country, I permitted him to return. I then set out on foot, and at length reached the Federal pickets, three miles from Rienzi, where a horse was furnished me; and about ten o’clock I reached the head-quarters of Colonel Misner in Rienzi. When I gazed upon the star-spangled banner, beneath whose ample folds there was safety and protection—when I saw around me the Union hosts—I shed tears of joy, and from the depths of my heart returned thanks to Almighty God, who had given me my life at my request, preserving me, amid dangers seen and unseen, till I now was safe amid hosts of friends.
Colonel Misner requested me to report all that would be of service to General Rosecrans, which I did, he copying my report as I gave it. I reported, so far as I was informed, the probable number of troops in and around Tupelo, the topography of the country, the probable designs of the rebels, the number of troops sent to Richmond under Beauregard, &c. The Colonel requested me to go with him to head-quarters in the morning; but at the hour specified I was sick, and my physician, Dr. Holley, of the Thirty-sixth Illinois, thought it would not be advisable for me to go, even in an ambulance. My report, however, was carried up to General Rosecrans.
Through proper treatment I recovered in a few days, so as to be able to go into Jacinto, the nearest point in the Federal lines to my family. I called on General Jefferson C. Davis, who was in command of that post. The General had heard of my arrest, and expressed gratification at my safe return. I informed him of my desire to get my family within the lines. The General immediately proffered me all the cavalry at his command, and ordered them to prepare for the expedition. I thankfully accepted his kind offer, but after reflection concluded to send a messenger first, with a letter to my wife; if he were not intercepted, I knew that she would come in as soon as possible. The order to the cavalry was countermanded until this plan would be tried. The messenger was not intercepted, and on the next day I had the pleasure of beholding my wife and child, whose faces, a short time before, I had given up all hope of ever beholding on earth.
While here, I called on my friend, Lieutenant Richard Malone, who resides in Jacinto. On inquiring at his house for him, he heard my voice, and ran out to the gate to meet me. Grasping my hand, he could not for some time control his emotions so as to speak.
Malone gave me his history since we had parted at the outer wall of the prison. He reached the corn-field at the point designated, and anxiously awaited my arrival until near daylight, when he was compelled to seek safety in flight. We had agreed to meet in the corn-field at a place where there was a garment suspended upon the fence. We think there must have been two garments suspended at different points, and hence our mistake. We could not signal loud in consequence of the nearness of the pickets, and therefore did not meet. Soon after daylight, Malone found himself in the midst of a cavalry company which had encamped there during the night; they were making preparations for departure, and the majority of them were gathering blackberries. Joining them, he passed as a citizen, and when he reached the rear of the company, he gathered some sticks in his arms, and started towards a small cabin at a short distance, as if it were his residence. Before reaching it, he made a detour to the right, and passed into the dense woods. On the next day, about ten o’clock, A. M., he reached an open champaign country, through which it would have been dangerous to travel. To the west, about three hundred yards distant, was a dense woods, which he hoped to reach without detection. While travelling down a road for this purpose, four cavalrymen who were in pursuit dashed towards him, and ordered him to return with them to Tupelo. Malone replied, that as it was useless to resist, he must submit. He asked for some water; they had none in their canteens, but went to a house in the distance to obtain some. Malone was ordered to march before them, which he was compelled to do, though famishing from hunger and thirst. On reaching the house, they all went to the well and drew a bucket of water. There being no dipper, Malone remarked that he would go into the house and get one. One of the guards followed, and stationed himself at the door with his gun. Malone went into the house, and immediately passed out at the back door. The garden gate being open, he passed into the garden, when he commenced running. Two women in the house noticed his running, and clapping their hands exclaimed, “Your Yankee’s gone! Your Yankee’s gone!” The guards immediately followed, ordering him to halt, and firing at him with their revolvers. Malone quickly reached a corn-field, and soon after a swamp, whence he made good his escape, and after various vicissitudes reached his family in Jacinto, where I now found him.
I returned to Rienzi with my family, resolved to leave for the North. My wife, before leaving her father’s, learned, through a letter sent by a rebel officer to his wife, that all the guards who were on duty during the night I escaped from prison, were placed under close arrest, and were still in the dungeon at the time of his writing. There were eleven guards on each relief, and three reliefs during the night; there were, therefore, thirty-three guards placed under arrest because of my escape.
On the night previous to our departure from Rienzi, we were honoured with a serenade, through the politeness of General Granger, of the cavalry, and Colonel Bryner, of the Forty-seventh Illinois Regiment. Being called on for a speech, I thus responded: