On the 16th of May my father, who had been in attendance upon
me, went to the White Sulphur, and, returning, informed me that
the Yankee cavalry, numbering 303, had passed up Dry Creek in
the direction of the Sweet Springs. I was rather weak as yet to be
removed, as the only means at hand was horse and saddle. I
then first realized my situation: I was in the neighborhood of the enemy,
and if I went towards Lewisburg, I was sure to meet more; to follow
after them was out of the question. A road led from the White
Sulphur and Sweet Springs turnpike through to the main road
so that to go in the direction of Jackson's River was certain cap=
ture. If I went to Anthonys Creek I would be effectually cut off
from the Confederate forces, which were then in the neighborhood
of Dublin Depot on the V. & T.R.R.. X Being entirely at a loss, but
not fearing any immediate danger, my father started to the
White Sulphur through the woods to find out the whereabouts of the enemy.
The excitement of the situation seemed to give me strength, and
for the first time since my illness began I put on my clothes (a new Con-
federate artillery uniform) and went out to an outhouse, a few minutes
after my father left. As I opened the door to return to the house,
some 15 steps, I saw, coming up the road, a squad of men
with army guns, clad in the well known blue jackets and pants
of the Federal army. Waiting until some trees, or other obstacles cut
off the view, I slipped into the house unseen. The Cavalry in
the forenoon, had not stopped at any private house: of course the
same was expected of the Infantry. The squad just mentioned
proved to be the vanguard of 1200 men under Co. Crook
including four 12 pdr. mountain howitzers. Being exhausted,
I lay down on a bed with my uniform on, and watched through
a window, using a narrow opeing by the edge of the curtain, as I lay
on my side. The first Battalion passed! The Artillery passed! The
Second Battalion passed! How rejoiced I was that I had run
so narrow a risk and still escaped! But the rear guard, with
some who had joined them, suddenly sprang over the fence and
surrounded the house. The door [A]opened quickly; a
in, and said: "We want you," and drew his head back,
nearly closeing the door. "What do you want with me?" I re-
plied. "We are going to take you along with us," he replied
in an angry tone. I answered "I am not able to go." Just then
a man entered at the back door, [B] and another at the front
door. It was the sergeant of the advance guard that had
been talking to me. [He had gradually reopened the door and entered
teh room. All the men, except officers who afterwards entered, of course
had guns in their hands.] One of the men Dipsomaniac? attempted to steal
a cologne bottle in the shape of a shoe with its toe turning
up and ending in a neck. The sergeant, who seemed to
have some gentlemanly qualities, made him put the bottle
down and leave the house. As he went out he muttered that
the bottle was "nothing but damned Secesh doings anyhow."
The sergeant called in another man, and sent the one that was al
ready there (not the thief) to Col. Crook to tell him that I said I was not
able to go with them. Before the messenger returned, several officers
came in, all of whom were very polite to me. Among them was
one Edward Jay Allen, who had been a contractor on the railroad
near the White Sulphur before the war. He examined me and
pronounced me very weak; the surgeon, who had entered pro-
nounced me entirely unable to be moved. The day was warm
but clouding fast. It was about 2 p.m. The messenger returned
and said: "Col. Crook orders that he shall come along." Allen
(they called him "Col." Allen) then apologized for moving me, saying
that if they left me, I would get well and commence fighting
them again. I told him that that was true and that I expected
them to do something with me as a matter of course. [I supposed,
when first discovered, that I would merely be paroled] As soon
as I could get my medicine (which the doctor told me to take
with me) and clothes ready, they assisted me into a good
ambulance. The doctor ordered them to put me into it,
ad remarked that it was his own private property. It then
commenced raining and turning cold. On the preceding
day I had taken a dry cough, which by this time, aggravated
by the dampness and the shaking of the vehicle, annoyed me
constantly. Of course I became an object of curiosity, and the sol-
diers showed a desire to talk to me. One "reckoned it was the first
ride I had ina "Yankee concern" for some time." [This was in good
natured humor]. We moved on slowly up the Alleghany Mountains
I was harassed by countless questions, and some sullenness was
shown because I did not satisfactorily answer all of them.
The surgeon soon made them put a stop to their questions.
The driver got out of the ambulance, and two more men
got in, whereupon a general discussion of Secession, Union,
&c commenced; but I cannot related it; I must cut the story
short. Sick men were placed in the rear end of the ambulance,
so that I was at last crowded forward into the rain, which in-
creasingly drove into the open front. At dark the troops came to
a halt at the eastern base of the mountains, built fires, and commenced
cooking. The wagon train and ambulances stopped. I got out; was
overlooked; was surprised to find myself apparently as strong;
began to plan an [1] escape, when the sergt. of the rear guard
stepped up and respectfully took charge of me, expressing surprise
that I had not been attended to. We went to "Major" somebody, who sent
us to the Adjutant, whom we fortunately failed to find. The Sergt.
told me the Adjutant was not likely to show me any greater favor than
to allow me to lie in a wagon. We finally went to Col. Crook, whom
we found in front of a tent conversing with Allen and the surgeon. The
latter told Crook that it would be certain death to me to sleep
out. [Col. Crook was indignant, when he saw me, and said "Is this
the man that was represented to me as pretending to be sick?"]
He said he was sorry he had attempted to move me; moved
aside so that I might not have to pass through a pool of water;
and ordered eight men to carry me on a cot to Jo Dickson's
Hotel half a mile further east. The rain poured down in torrents
all the way down. Getting off the cot, I found myself una-
ble to walk! Having taken a cup of hot coffee, I was assisted
up stairs, and went to bed without fire. The men who had car-
ried me went back to camp. For a long time I was unable to sleep.
My mind was absorbed with one question: [2] "What is my destiny?" I would begin
to doze; sometimes I would think myself jolted in the ambulance
and would waken. Then I would think they were calling me
to get ready to start again, and waken. thus I spent the night
until a short time before day, when I fell asleep. Once again
I heard the dreadful calling for me to get up, and on waking
found it to be reality. It was day-break; the rain was
descending still, and it had grown yet colder during the night.
Remarks, 1893
X I ought by all means to have been removed. The sequel showed that
I would have ridden many miles, and it would have been
sufficient to carry me a mile towards Anthony's Creek, or enven 1/4
mile across the ridge by the house, to the North: anything to get
me off the thoroughfare. Getting "cut off" would have been a
small matter, and a very temporary one. Still I was certainly
not to blame, if any blunder was committed.
[A] The house was very near the road on the right hand side
going east, --an old hewn-log house, I think. The front
door opened directly into the room I was in. The foot
of my bed was just to the left of the door as you entered.
The sergeant of the advance guard was the first to look in.
[B] The back-door also opened directly into my room.
One Frank Haptonstall, who had been a school-mate of mine at
Charleston, & whose home as near the White Sulphur had been drafter
into the army--He knew where I was,
he had deserted, and now he had joined the Yankees and told
them where I was. So, at least, went the story among the people.
I have no personal knowledge of the matter.
On the way over the mountain the whole column came to a
long halt about a mile before we reached Hughs' on the summit.
The Federals had heard that there was a strong force of militia in
camp there, and a field officer undertook to make me
tell what I knew about it. In fact I did this promptly: I said
I knew nothing about it; but of course he did not believe me
(I did not want him to) and continued to badger me until
the surgeon interposed, which he did with much firmness
and earnestness, and intimated that the officer's attitude
in the case was preposterous anyway.
Among those that conversed with me were two young
men from Ohio, named Wylie, who turned out to be cousins
of mine (2d or possibly 3rd). They were exceedingly considerate,
and asked me for souvenirs, which I gave them: brass
tassel and cross cannons from my cap.
No one treated me ruffianly, and none harshly, except
the officer who tried to force me to divulge information, and
a captain who tried to alarm me.
[1] If I had given them the slip, I should certainly have per-
ished. It was already my purpose to reascend the mountain,
keeping in the hollow below the road. There was, as I af-
terwards found out, a stream of water in this hollow, and
there was no house between camp and the top of
the mountain six or eight miles back. This I had
not observed, as I lay in the covered ambulance.
[2] Col. Crook's remark that he was sorry he had attempted
to move me naturally gave me hopes that in the morning
I would be paroled; but somehow I could not feel sure that
this would be done. Moreover I was suffering intensely, not
only with my cough, but felt sick. that I was growing rapidly
worse was evident.
MSS 1578
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