"If you young gentlemen will step inside my house, my wife, no doubt, will be pleased to entertain you."
Inside the large, old-fashioned country house, such as I had seen more frequently in Pennsylvania than in Virginia, we were introduced to "Mother," as a couple of young gentlemen who had been belated by the railroad mishap, and desired some warm food.
I had been a soldier long enough then to understand, in a vague sort of a way, that the term "gentleman" was not properly applied to common soldiers, though we endeavored, by our conduct, to merit the title at this time. It was my zealous Rebel friend, the Colonel, who got into an argument with our host over the war question.
It was brought about by something that was said during the natural inquiries that follow such meetings as to where we came from, etc., when the Colonel rather boastfully, perhaps, informed him that we were a band of exiles from Maryland. We had enjoyed so much homage on this score while in Richmond that it had become a second nature to us to expect it as a matter of course from all quarters, and when this West Virginia gentleman rather quizzingly observed:
"Well, now, Mother, isn't this remarkable. Here are some Maryland secessionists being sent away down here to Tennessee to punish and coerce Unionists?"
It seems that this Unionist, who lived in what is now West Virginia, was a member of the State Legislature, and who was also a citizen of some prominence, highly esteemed, and looked upon as one of the leaders of this band of Unionists that devotedly remained steadfastly loyal throughout the war.
The general tenor of the conversation had the effect of reviving my interest, and served to stir anew my zeal for the cause. It also gave me a wonderful appetite for the old-fashioned, home-like meal that the good mother had been preparing for us, while the other fellows were talking. That I enjoyed the good, warm supper more than the Colonel, was evident to all the household, because he had permitted the talk to raise his choler so that he was scarcely in a suitable frame of mind to appreciate the kind attention of the lady.
They declined our proffered pay for the entertainment, which had so generously been furnished. As we were about to leave, and while the Colonel and the host were yet predicting, each in his own way, all sorts of terrible dangers, I could not resist the temptation, while saying "Good-by" to the old lady, to quietly whisper to her that I was heartily glad to have met with a Union family; that I was reminded of home very much by the visit, and I would soon be home, too. She was so surprised at my manner that she wasn't able to answer.
What the Colonel got from the old man as a parting salute I don't know, only that it made him very cross and had the disagreeable effect of causing him to want to walk back to the train faster than I was able to keep up in my crippled condition.
We passed through Greenville, in East Tennessee, which was pointed out to us as the home of Senator Andy Johnson, of Tennessee. I should have liked to stop over here to have visited the residence and met some of the friends of Senator Johnson, who had been so much interested in my Southern experiences, but our train only remained a little while. We moved along slowly enough, stopping at what I thought must be every side-track on the road, to meet some trains that were due from the opposite direction, but which seemed never to come.