On getting our shoes on we again pushed forward slowly. At the first house we came to after fording the stream, we inquired the distance to Gauley Bridge. "Five miles and a half," was the answer given us. The sun was more than two hours high, but now the journey seemed more doubtful and difficult of accomplishment than the journey of twenty-seven miles had seemed in the morning. We pressed on, however, and in the course of an hour we met a man of whom we asked, "How far is it to the pickets?" "Nearly three miles," was the reply. Our feet were sore, our limbs were weary, but our flagging spirits revived, and we persistently urged ourselves onward. The sun had almost run its daily course. The distance to be gone over, before our twenty-four-hour's march was accomplished, was gradually growing less. At length the picket-guard was reached, and our goal won; but the sun had gone down and the stars were appearing. As the twilight was passing into night we approached the sentinel in the road who came out to meet and welcome us. Giving each of us a hearty shake of the hand, he said, "I know where you are from; will you have some coffee?" We replied that we could not object, and were assured there was plenty of it at the Company quarters.
Although we were nearly worn down, almost exhausted, in fact, from the effects of twenty-four hours of constant wakefulness and travel, we felt an indescribable but silent ecstasy of joy and thankfulness for our deliverance from the rigorous and pinching destitution of Confederate prisons. But in the height and fullness of our heart-felt rapture, we did not forget Taylor and Trippe, the early companions of our journey. We thought it possible they had perished, but hoped they had been more fortunate than ourselves. Very soon after passing the pickets we went, in company with two or three soldiers of Companies I and H, 5th Virginia Infantry, to their quarters in the old town of Gauley Bridge, where supper, consisting of bread, meat, and coffee, was provided us. After supper we visited Captain Dixon, of Company I, 5th Virginia, in his quarters, he having sent for us.
Companies I and H, 5th Virginia, under command of Captain Dixon, were stationed at Gauley Bridge as an outpost from Camp Reynolds, which was below the falls of the Kanawha. We remained at the quarters of Captain Dixon during the night of March 21st. We did not retire for sleep until a late hour. From Dixon we first heard the particulars of the battle of Mission Ridge, in which our Companies had participated. We told Dixon of the number and condition of the prisoners about Danville, and of the strength and disposition of the Rebel garrison there.
On March 22d we went to Camp Reynolds, where we remained two days, during which time we were furnished by the soldiers and their officers with entire suits of clean clothing. In the evening of March 23d each of us wrote a letter to our respective homes, to let the folks know we were alive, and once more within the Union lines. Our feet having recovered from their soreness, we went next day, in company with three or four soldiers who were going home on veteran furlough, to Charleston, Virginia. On the 25th we got aboard a steamer, the "Victress No. 2," and went down the Kanawha to Gallipolis, Ohio, arriving there on the day following. On the 28th, having stopped over Sabbath in Gallipolis, we boarded the steamer "C. T. Dumont," and went down the river to Cincinnati. At ten o'clock, A. M., March 29th, we landed at Cincinnati, and immediately reported at Post Head-Quarters, Colonel Swayne, 99th Ohio, commanding.
After a brief talk with Colonel Swayne, and other officers at Head-Quarters, we were told to go to the Soldiers' Home and get our dinners, and then return. We started, and had got but a few steps from Head-Quarters when the sentinel at the door called out to us to come back, that the Colonel wished to speak to us. Sutherland, Smith, and I waited on the street, while Wood went to see what the Colonel wanted. Swayne asked Wood if he would like a furlough, and Wood answered he would. The remainder of our party were called in from the street, and asked the same question, to which we answered in the affirmative. Furloughs were immediately filled out, signed by the Post commander, and forwarded to Columbus, Ohio, to be approved by General Heintzleman, the department commander. We went to the Soldiers' Home, got our dinners, and by two o'clock reported again at Head-Quarters, where we received orders to report at Lytle Barracks. Each of us was furnished with a pass good for five days and nights, giving us the freedom of the city.
On reaching Lytle Barracks we gave Colonel Swayne's order to the Captain commanding. The order required him to admit us to the barracks; to issue us the full allowance of rations; to issue us clothing, if we desired it; and allow us to pass in and out at all times of day and night until nine o'clock, P. M. On the afternoon of the 29th we made out partial descriptive lists, and drew new clothing, a full suit each, the next morning. On the 30th, after washing and dressing ourselves, we went out into the city. On the morning of the 31st our furloughs came from Columbus, approved. With our furloughs we received transportation papers. Early in the day, Wood took the train and was off for his home in Western Pennsylvania. Wood, although a resident of Pennsylvania, had enlisted in the 26th Ohio Volunteers. Later in the day, Smith and Sutherland left together for their homes in Michigan. On being left alone of our party, I went to H. H. Hills's drug store, and remained there over night with a friend, from whom I learned for the first time of the sad losses my Company had sustained in battle at Chickamauga. On April 1st I took breakfast at the Indiana House, and very soon after was aboard the cars and homeward bound. I arrived home in Georgetown, Illinois, Sunday evening, April 3, 1864, and found my letter written at Camp Reynolds, Virginia, had not been received. My visit was unexpected, and the first intimation my father and folks had received for many weeks that I was yet alive, was when I entered the old home. The letter came the next morning, April 4th.
CHAPTER VIII.
CONCLUSION—STRANGE CIRCUMSTANCE—WE BRING GLAD TIDINGS—ARE HOSPITABLY TREATED—THE END.
As a conclusion to the foregoing imperfect sketches, we will briefly narrate an incident which happened after our arrival within the lines. On March 23d, at Camp Reynolds, while we were writing letters home, a soldier named Gasper came into the quarters where we were. As soon as we were at leisure he asked,