ESCAPE FROM EAST TENNESSEECHAPTER I.
ESCAPE FROM EAST TENNESSEE
I wasborn in Greene County, Tennessee, near the banks of the Nola Chucky River. My father moved in 1845 to the banks of the French Broad River, in Cocke County, Tennessee, shortly after I was born. I was the oldest of the six children, namely, myself, Alexander, Laura, Creed, Mary and James Ragan. My father was a county officer for years—in fact, until the late war. I grew up in the county, and attended muster.
In 1860 I was elected Lieutenant-Colonel of the Militia, and in the Fall of 1861 was in the employ of Frank Clark, who fattened hogs and every year drove them to South Carolina markets. At that time there were no railroads in East Tennessee leading to South Carolina. When we left East Tennessee there was no talk of war, but when we reached South Carolina, the people were excited and in a state of rebellion. Before reaching Spartanburg, Mr. Clark told me to be careful how I talked. He seemed to know the situation.
After we arrived at Spartanburg I was sick with jaundice for a few days, and confined to my bed. While in bed I could hear the rebels hallooing and riding through the streets, and the rattling of sabers.
In a few days I got out of my bed and went out into the streets. I was young, and hardly knew what it meant, for everything was calm when I left East Tennessee; but when I lookedup and saw the rebel flag, I felt a thrill of patriotism run through my veins, and then began to realize the fact that it was not the flag I had been used to all my life. At that moment I was a Union boy, and felt that I was in the wrong latitude.
If I had uttered a word against the South at that time I would have been hung to the first limb. The Negroes were excited and scared nearly to death. Some one would set a house on fire and accuse a Negro of the crime, and arrest the first one he came across, taking him out and hanging him. I saw two hung in this manner.
The next morning I said quietly to Mr. Clark, “I believe I will go back to East Tennessee.”
“All right,” he said.
I had, I think, the best saddle horse in the State; he was a fox trotter, only three years old, and his gait was smooth and easy. I bid Mr. Clark good-day, and started on my journey.
The farther I got from Spartanburg, the better I felt. I believe I rode sixty-two miles from early in the morning until dark. It seemed to me that the horse was a Union animal, for he “pulled for the shore.” I never put a spur or whip to his flesh. I was young, and will confess I was afraid the rebels were after me.
When I reached the top of the Blue Ridge, I looked back and it seemed to me that I could see the smoke of war. I then turned my face toward East Tennessee, and imagined I could see peace and harmony. I looked to my right and could see the Holston and Watauga Rivers running down through the valleys of East Tennessee, and the people going about their daily avocations;and next was the Nola Chucky, where I was born, with her beautiful bottom lands extending for miles. Next came the French Broad, on the banks of which I was raised. Next was the Big Pigeon, which was made from the little streams gushing from the Great Smoky Mountain and the North Carolina Mountains. I imagined I could see all these rivers making their way in peace to the Tennessee River, which emptied into the Ohio above its junction with the great Mississippi. I did not think at that time that there were preparations being made by the North and the South for the greatest war that was ever fought in the world.
After I had rested on the top of this mountain, I continued my journey down through a part of North Carolina to Paint Rock, and then into East Tennessee. When I arrived at Newport, Cocke County, I found the people making preparations to sow wheat. I remember on my way from South Carolina I came to a farm on the banks of the French Broad. The men were plowing, some with mules, some with horses and others with yokes of oxen, turning over the land. They knew me, and asked how I had come out with my hogs, and how the times were over in South Carolina.
I said, “H— is to pay over there; they are fixing for war.”
They asked me who they were going to fight.
“The Yankees,” I said.
I told them that Fort Sumter had been fired upon. They asked me where Fort Sumter was. You see that the people in that locality had never heard of war, but in a short time they began talking about secession.