No night was too dark, no danger too imminent, no task too arduous for these self-sacrificing women to perform when the opportunity was presented to them to lend a helping hand to the hunted, starving Union men.
What brave, loving mothers, wives and sisters of East Tennessee, who faced the tempests of hatred and persecution during the Civil War; whose willing hands were always ready to minister to the suffering and distressed; who carried food to the hunted and perishing Union men who wore the homespun clothes wrought by their own hands; who through waiting years never faltered in love and faith and duty to friend or to country!
The deeds of the loyal men of East Tennessee, could they have been told individually in all their thrilling details and sufferings while they were living, would rival in patriotic interest the stories of Robert Bruce, William Wallace, or the brave Leonidas, who with his three hundred Spartans held the pass at Thermopylae against the hosts of Persian aggressors.
I recall another little incident that occurred in my travels from my home to my father’s, near Newport, Tenn. About midway on the route that I travelled, on the main road leading to Paint Rock, N. C., there lived a man by the name of John Hawk, who had two or three large bull dogs. I had travelled several times over this route, passing within two hundred yards of his house, and had never been molested by these dogs, for I was careful about making any noise. On one occasion I got too near the house, and happened to step on a stick in my path, which snapped loudly and the dogs heard it and started for me, yelping as they ran. I was fast on foot at that time, but the dogs seemed to be gaining on me. I looked for a tree to climb, but they were all too large. I knew the time was coming for me to make a fight for my life, for they were getting dangerously near. I picked up two knotty rocks as I ran, and soon reached a high cross fence that had been built in the woods. Beside the fence stood a small hickory tree, and I climbed up about ten feet just as the dogs reached the place. It was so dark I could hardly see them. They reared up and commenced barking as if they had treed a coon or a possum. I drew back with one of the stones and struck one of the dogs squarely in the mouth, and I heard his teeth shatter. He raised a howl and ran away, with the other dog after him. After that time I kept that house at a greater distance. That night I made my way home, or in other words, to the mountains close by.
Old Uncle David’s Prayer.—This prayer was delivered by an old colored man before we crossed the Holston River. We found him living in a little log cabin on a farm. He was an old-fashioned preacher, and of course a Union man.
“O Lord God A’mighty! We is yo’ chil’n an’ ’spects you to hea’ us widout delay, cause we all is in right smart ob a hurry! Dese yer gemmen has run’d away from de Seceshers and dere ’omes, and wants to get to de Norf. Dey hasn’t got any time for to wait! Ef it is ’cording to de destination ob great Hebben to help ’em, it’ll be ’bout necessary fo’ de help to come right soon! De hounds an’ de rebels is on dere track! Take de smell out ob de dogs’ noses, O Lord! and let Gypshun darkness come ober de eysights ob de rebels. Confound ’em, O Lord! Dey is cruel, and makes haste to shed blood. Dey has long ’pressed de black man an’ groun’ him in de dust, an’ now I reck’n dey ’spects dat dey am a gwin’ to serve de loyal men de same way. Help dese gemmen in time ob trouble, an’ left ’em fru all danger on to de udder side ob Jo’dan dry shod! An’ raise de radiance ob yo’ face on all de loyal men what’s shut up in de Souf! Send some Moses, O Lord! to guide ’em fru de Red Sea ob Flickshun into de promis’ land! Send some great Gen’ral ob de Norf wid his comp’ny sweepin’ down fru dese yer parts to scare de rebels till dey flee like de Midians, an’ slew dereselves to sabe dere lives! O Lord! bless de Gen’rals ob de Norf! O Lord! bless de Kunnels! O Lord! bless de Capt’ins! O Lord! bless der loyal men makin’ dere way to de promis’ land! O Lord, Eberlastin’! Amen.”
This prayer, offered in a full and fervent voice, seemed to cover our case exactly, and we could join in the “amen.” We then crossed the Holston River, but not dry shod.
Some time in 1862 the loyal men of Cocke County, East Tennessee, refused to go into the rebel army. They lived in what was called the Knobs. There were about four hundred of these men, some farmers, some mechanics and some blacksmiths, all loyal to the Government.
Leadbeater with his command was sent to Parrottsville, in the same county, and went into camp for the purpose of looking after these men, who had built breastworks on a high hill in that locality. They sawed off gum tree logs about the length of a cannon, and bored out holes in these logs large enough to load with tin cans full of large bullets and pieces of iron. They made iron bands out of wagon tires, and put them around the log cannons to keep them from exploding when fired. It was said that they could fire these wooden guns with accuracy.
The rebels heard of these preparations, and with a large force went into this Knob country and found the works, and captured about one hundred of these men and brought them to Parrottsville, where the army was in camp. They put them into a large one-story frame school-house, and placed a heavy guard around the prison, They kept them there for some time and treated them like brutes.