Fugitive slaves. — A rebel planter. — The Big Ebenezer. — A sound of oars. — Aruse de guerre. — Burial of a dead soldier. — A free ride. — Groping in the dark. — "Who goes there!" — Recaptured. —Nil desperandum.— James Brooks. — Contraband of war. — Confederate murders. — In the saddle again. — A dash for freedom. — Again captured. — Tried as a spy.
Fugitive slaves. — A rebel planter. — The Big Ebenezer. — A sound of oars. — Aruse de guerre. — Burial of a dead soldier. — A free ride. — Groping in the dark. — "Who goes there!" — Recaptured. —Nil desperandum.— James Brooks. — Contraband of war. — Confederate murders. — In the saddle again. — A dash for freedom. — Again captured. — Tried as a spy.
Our hero had been somewhat impressed with the subdued tone and manner of the Confederate officer with whom he had lately parted. To some extent he manifested a discouraged and cowed bearing, and this, taken with some other circumstances in their recent experience, led our friends to hope that the end was not very remote.
After bidding adieu to the Confederate, they walked about two miles before discovering a place of concealment in another swamp. Here they unexpectedly came upon a party of negroes sleeping around a large fire. They proved to be fugitive slaves, who had abandoned their homes in Burke County, Georgia, to follow in the rear of Sherman's army. They had formed part of a body of several hundred persons of all ages and both sexes, who had escaped and sought refuge upon an island in Big Ebenezer Creek, and had been inhumanly shelled out by the Confederates. Thence they had scattered over the country in small bands, and the present detached party were workingtheir way back to their masters. Captain Glazier despatched one of them with a haversack in search of some food among the resident colored people, and the result was so far satisfactory that our friends were put in possession of a good supply of sweet potatoes.
After another march, and while still in the swamp, they heard wood-choppers, and Lemon started to reconnoitre. Guided by the sound of the axe, he approached a small clearing, and seeing a negro, as he had expected, wielding the axe, walked forward to him, but was suddenly startled by observing a burly white man sitting on a log, smoking and looking on. They eyed each other for a moment in silence, when presently the planter demanded in a blustering voice, "What are you doing here, in a blue uniform?" Lemon was not slow to answer in a corresponding tone, "I am serving my country, as every loyal man should do: what haveyouto say about it?"
"I believe you're a d—d Yankee," said the planter. "You're welcome to your opinion, old Blowhard," responded Lemon. "This is a free country; Iama Yankee—all but the d—d—and now what do you propose to do about it?" (All this in an assumed tone of bluster, as the best adapted to the situation.) "We'll see! we'll see!" rejoined the planter, and at once started in a direct line for his house. Lemon lost no time, but returned as quickly as possible to his comrade, and without any deliberation they evacuated the enemy's country with as much expedition as their tired legs were capable of exerting. Their ears were soon saluted with the music of a pack of hounds let loose on their track by the burly rebel, and the affair would have had a disastrous ending if they had not opportunely encountered a considerable stream, and by wading through it for nearly a mile, succeeded in cutting off the scent of the hounds.
The planter had raised a hue and cry for miles around, and our hunted friends, from their covert, saw mounted men patrolling the corduroy road through the swamp, seemingly under the belief that the "Yankees" would be driven to use this highway eventually, and thus fall an easy prey into their hands. The man-hunters, however, found themselves at fault, for our hero had learned, in the hard school of experience, to anticipate all such contingencies. He and Lemon therefore secreted themselves until late in the night, determined to rob them of their game.
It was approaching midnight, December fifteenth, when the fugitives crept cautiously to the margin of the swamp. A large fire denoted the position of the planter's picket. They ventured out through the mud and water with the purpose of flanking the enemy on their left—a hazardous proceeding, and attended with much suffering from the intense coldness of the water. In two hours, however, they had reached a point on the opposite side of the encampment, and fearing discovery and pursuit, soon placed two or three miles between themselves and the foe. Sometimes they were made cognizant of the nearness of the parties in search of them, by overhearing their conversation, which treated mainly of Sherman's march to the sea, how it would affect the Confederacy, and similar interesting topics.
Our friends passed the last picket at the edge of the swamp, but deeming it unwise to relax in speed or vigilance, pushed forward to the banks of theBig Ebenezer, which advanced them three miles further.
Here, upon the charred abutment of a burned bridge, Glazier and his friend paused, and with the dark river in their front, debated how they were to reach the other side. The dawn was just breaking, and through the rising mist they could discern the opposite shore, but no practicable mode of reaching it. They must not, however, remain here after daybreak, and therefore sought and found a place of concealment, again in the hateful swamp, but not far from the river's bank. They were soon enjoying the rest and sleep of the weary.
Lemon was startled from his slumber by a sound resembling that of oars. He awoke Glazier, and both listened intently, at a loss to understand the meaning of such a sound in such a place. In a few minutes the noise ceased, and looking cautiously from their hiding-place, they observed two men pass near them, having the appearance of messengers or couriers, with despatches, which they could plainly see in their hands. It at once occurred to our hero and his companion that the boat in which these men had rowed themselves up the river, could be made available for crossing to its opposite bank. They found it moored to a tree, and at once embarked and crossed the stream. To prevent pursuit they cast the boat adrift, and as speedily as possible left "Big Ebenezer" behind them.
At a short distance from the river side Lemon stumbled over the dead body of a soldier, which, upon examination, proved to be that of a Federal. Our friends having no means of placing the body underground, concluded to bury it in the river, and thusprevent to some extent its desecration by dogs or other carrion-seeking animals that might find it exposed. This was the best they could do under the circumstances, and thus the poor body found a sailor's, if not a soldier's grave.
They had advanced not many paces again when they discovered two horses tied to a tree, possibly the property of the two couriers whose boat they had previously utilized. These they looked upon as fair spoil in an enemy's country, and with little compunction and less ceremony mounted and started on their way. A few miles brought them to the verge of the wood, and the day was now breaking. They therefore reluctantly dismounted, turned their steeds adrift for fear of detection, and trudged forward on foot once more.
Soon they had reason to congratulate themselves on their prudence in dismounting. Another quarter of a mile brought within view a Confederate picket, but they were not themselves observed. They accordingly sought a hiding-place among the thick undergrowth, and were soon asleep, remaining so until midnight. They then turned the flank of the picket and proceeded on their journey.
Long immunity from the peril of recapture had now inspired Glazier and his friend with hope and full confidence in successfully attaining the end of their struggles. The swamp, the river, the alligator, the man-hunter, and worse than all, the blood-hound, had been met and successfully overcome or evaded; and after three long weeks of travel from the execrable and inhuman people, who had held them as prisoners of war, and treated them worse than dogs, they now found themselves within twenty miles of Savannah.
Resting himself upon a fallen tree, clad in rags, hungry and reduced almost to the proportions of a skeleton by long fasting, Glazier with his companion were able to congratulate themselves upon their wonderful preservation thus far. All seemed to foreshadow their final triumph, and their spirits were cheered, notwithstanding that food had not passed their lips for the past thirty-six hours, with the exception of a few grains of corn picked up by the way. Probably within the brief space of twenty-four hours they would be again free and under the protection of the glorious flag, in whose defence they had fought and suffered so much.
Flushed with their past success and elated with hope for the future they recommenced their march. They had no exact information as to the position of the Federal army, and were in fact groping their way in the dark—figuratively as well as literally—every sense on the alert to avoid the enemy's picket lines.
On reaching Little Ebenezer Creek about midnight they were chagrined to find the bridge destroyed, but after reconnoitring for a time, were satisfied that the coast was clear on the opposite side. Finding some broken planks they constructed a raft and paddled themselves across the stream.
They were now on the Savannah River Road, over which Kilpatrick's cavalry and the Fourteenth Army Corps had passed but a week before. Old camping-grounds were numerous along their way, and each was examined closely for any bread or other eatables they thought might have been left by the army.
Recaptured By A Confederate Outpost.RECAPTURED BY A CONFEDERATE OUTPOST.
RECAPTURED BY A CONFEDERATE OUTPOST.
They were closely engaged in this search, when "Who comes there?" was gruffly shouted by a voice near them.
"Friends," promptly answered Glazier.
"Advance one!" commanded the picket.
"I advanced promptly," writes Captain Glazier, in the history of his capture and imprisonment, "and arriving near my captors found them to be mounted infantry. They were sitting upon their horses in the shade of some cypress-trees. One asked, 'Who are you?' to which I replied, 'A scout to General Hardie, and must not be detained, as I have important information for the general.'
"The picket replied, 'I'm instructed to take every person to the officer of the picket that approaches this post after dark.'
"'I can't help it, sir. It is not customary to arrest scouts, and I must pass on.'
"'You cannot; I must obey orders. I do not doubt the truth of your assertion; but until you have seen the lieutenant, you will not be allowed to pass this post.'
"Finding that I had met a good soldier I saw that it was useless to trifle with him, and tried to console myself with the thought that I should be able to dupe the officer; and as we were hurried on towards the reserve of the picket my mind was occupied in arranging a plan for our defence, as spies to the great rebel chief. Arrived at the reserve we found nearly all asleep, including the lieutenant, in close proximity to a large rail-fire.
"A little rough shaking soon roused him up, and, rubbing his eyes, he asked, 'What's wanted?'
"I quickly answered, 'I'm surprised, sir, that scouts to our generals should be arrested by your picket.'
"He said, 'My instructions are positive, and no man can pass this post without examination.'
"'Very well, then,' I said, 'be good enough to examine us at once.'
"'Have you passes?'
"'No, sir; not at present. We had papers when we left the general's headquarters; but having been scouting in Northern Georgia, for the past two weeks, our papers are worn out and lost.'
"'You have some papers about you, I suppose?'
"Thinking that by answering in the affirmative, and producing quickly an old package of letters which had been received while in Libby Prison, that none of them would be examined, I hastily drew them from the side-pocket of my jacket and held them before me, saying, 'I hope here are enough, sir.'
"The lieutenant's curiosity led him to take one which had been received from Colonel Clarence Buel, of Troy, New York. He held it near the fire, and noticing the date, turned his eyes towards me and again to the letter; the second glance seemed to satisfy him that I was not a rebel, and he remarked very indignantly, 'Then you are scouting for General Hardie, are you? I believe you are a d—d Yankee spy! and if you were to get your deserts I should hang you to the first tree I come to,' Said I, 'Lieutenant, do not be too hasty. I can convince you that I have been a prisoner of war, and if you are a true soldier I shall be treated as such.'
"Becoming a little more mild he gave us to understand that we should start at ten o'clock the next morning for Springfield, the headquarters of General Wheeler.
"After detailing a special guard for the prisoners, and instructing them to be on the alert, the lieutenant laid himself down by the fire, leaving us to reflect upon the hardness of fate, and the uncertainties attending an effort to escape the clutches of a vigilant enemy."
Glazier did not despair, but at the first opportunity communicated to Lemon his determination to reach the Federal lines at all risks; he would never return to South Carolina a prisoner; the horrors of prison-life and the privations and sufferings they had already endured, should never be repeated in his case, but rather—welcome death! Their enemies—albeit fellow-countrymen andAmericans—were inhuman and barbarous, and before putting himself in their hands again, he would submit to be hung by bushwhackers, or torn to pieces by blood-hounds. Their case was now desperate, and for his part he would take the first chance that offered of getting away. Our hero thought he could count on Lemon's concurrence and co-operation. The men of the picket told him they had been arrested at the outpost; and it was now clear that if the fugitives had been so fortunate as to pass this picket, they could have reached the Federal lines in less than an hour. Only a step intervened between captivity and freedom—the thought was very disheartening.
An instance of exceptional kindness on the part of a Confederate must not be omitted here. James Brooks, one of the picket, came to the prisoners and invited them to partake of some hoe-cake and bacon. He said he had been out foraging, and would share his plunder with them. Having been without food for forty-eighthours, save a few ears of corn, they eagerly embraced the generous offer. The hoe-cake was produced and partaken of ravenously and thankfully. The other men of the picket were disgusted at the liberality of their comrade, calling him a "blue belly," and a fool to give good bread to a couple of d—d Yanks. Like a true man, however, he made no reply to their brutal taunts, and gave the captives a most excellent breakfast.
Having finished their welcome meal, they asked permission to bathe themselves, under guard, in a little stream not many rods from the reserve, which request was granted. Here the prisoners in their desperation offered the guard one hundred dollars in Confederate scrip, which had been given them by their negro friends, to assist them in making their escape. The guards seemed to distrust each other, and declined the proposal. They, however, said they would be right glad to have the money, but feared to take it, as they were held responsible for the safe return of the prisoners. The offer of the bribe was reported to the lieutenant, who at once ordered the delinquents to be searched, and all the scrip found upon them was confiscated, as contraband of war, and appropriated to rebel uses, leaving our two unfortunate friends penniless. They were further threatened with condign punishment for offering to bribe the guard. One said "Shoot them;" another, "Let 'em stretch hemp;" several recommended that they be taken to the swamp and "sent after Sherman's raiders,"—referring, probably, to the manner in which they had disposed of some of the Federal sick, who had been left in the rear of the army. Of this incident Glazier writes: "I had been told by the negroes that fifteen of our sick,who fell into the hands of the rebels but a few days before our recapture, were taken to a swamp, where their throats were cut, and their bodies thrown into a slough hole. I cannot vouch for the truth of this statement, but it came to me from many whose veracity I have no reason to question."
Let us in the name of humanity doubt it!
The Escape And Pursuit.THE ESCAPE AND PURSUIT.
THE ESCAPE AND PURSUIT.
At ten o'clockA. M.a mounted guard, consisting of a corporal and two men, were detailed to march the prisoners to the headquarters of General Wheeler. They had not proceeded far when Glazier assumed to be footsore, and pleaded his utter inability to walk any further. Believing this, one of the guards dismounted and helped him into the saddle. Our hero was no sooner mounted than he decided that, come what would, he would make his escape. In a few moments the guard who was on foot espied a black squirrel darting across the road, and oblivious of his responsibility, gave chase to it, Glazier looking on and biding his time. The squirrel soon ran up a tree, and leaped from bough to bough with its usual agility. Suddenly it halted on a prominent branch, seeming to bid defiance to its pursuer. The carbine was instantly raised, and discharged. Without waiting to note the result, Glazier, feeling thatnowwas his opportunity, dashed off at a gallop, urging his horse to the top of his speed. Before the squirrel-hunter could reload, he was many yards away. The corporal in charge fired his revolver, and at each discharge of the weapon, shouted to the fugitive to halt! but Glazier gave no heed to the summons, and might have succeeded in reaching the swamps and defied recapture, if he had not unfortunately galloped into a rebel camp! Baffled, heturned his horse, and endeavored to cross an open field, but the corporal continued to shout, "Halt that d—d Yankee!" when a body of Texan Rangers from General Iverson's cavalry division, some mounted and some dismounted, gave chase, hooting and yelping, and finally overtook and compelled him to surrender.
The guard whose horse Lieutenant Glazier had ridden came up and vented his rage at the escapade in no measured language. The Texans, however, enjoyed the fun of the thing, and laughed at, and ridiculed him. Said one, "You are a d—d smart soldier to let a blue-belly get away from you—and on your own horse too!" Another joined in with, "Say, Corporal, which of them nags can run fastest?" Nothing of course was said about thesquirrel!
On Lemon and his guard coming up they resumed their march to headquarters—Glazier's lameness exciting no further sympathy, nor the offer of another mount.
The escort with their charge reached General Wheeler's headquarters in the afternoon, and the report handed in stated that, "the two prisoners had been captured while attempting to pass the out-post, under the pretence of being scouts to General Hardie."
Wheeler ordered them at once into his presence and questioned them closely.
Captain Glazier thus graphically relates the interview:
"'Then you are scouting for Confederate generals?' said Wheeler.
"I replied, 'We would have rejoiced if we could have convinced your out-post that we were.'
"'None of your impudence, sir! Remember that you are a prisoner.'
"'Very true; but when you ask questions, you must expect answers.'
"'What are you doing with that gray jacket?'
"'I wear it, sir, to protect myself from the sun and storm.'
"'Where did you get it?'
"'One of the guards at Columbia was kind enough to give it to me, when he saw that I was suffering for the want of clothing to cover my nakedness.'
"'He could not have been a true rebel, to assist a Yankee in making his escape.'
"'He knew nothing of my intention to escape; and I believe he was at least a kind-hearted man.'
"'Why don't you wear the Federal uniform? Are the Yankees ashamed of it?'
"'By no means, sir! What few garments were spared me at the time of my capture were worn out during a long imprisonment, and the clothing which was sent on to Richmond by our Government during the winter of 1863 for distribution among the prisoners, was, for the most part, appropriated by your authorities.'
"'Like most of your contemptible Yankee crew, I believe you to be a lying scoundrel, and you shall answer to the charge of spy.'
"'Very well, sir, I am compelled to await your pleasure; but you have heard nothing but the truth.'
"'Guard! take the prisoners to the jail, place them in a cell, and keep them in close confinement until further orders.'"
The above colloquy between Wheeler and his prisoners reflects small credit upon him as a leader of "Southern Chivalry."
In jail. — White trash. — Yankees. — Off to Waynesboro. — No rations. Calling the roll. — Sylvania. — Plan for escape. — Lieutenant John W. Wright. — A desperate project. — Escaped! — Giving chase. — The pursuers baffled. — Old Richard. — "Pooty hard case, massa." — Rebel deserters. — The sound of cannon. — Personating a rebel officer. — Mrs. Keyton. — Renewed hope. — A Confederate outpost. — Bloodhounds. — Uncle Philip. — March Dasher. — Suspicion disarmed. — "Now I'ze ready, gemmen." — Stars and stripes. — Glorious freedom. — Home!
In jail. — White trash. — Yankees. — Off to Waynesboro. — No rations. Calling the roll. — Sylvania. — Plan for escape. — Lieutenant John W. Wright. — A desperate project. — Escaped! — Giving chase. — The pursuers baffled. — Old Richard. — "Pooty hard case, massa." — Rebel deserters. — The sound of cannon. — Personating a rebel officer. — Mrs. Keyton. — Renewed hope. — A Confederate outpost. — Bloodhounds. — Uncle Philip. — March Dasher. — Suspicion disarmed. — "Now I'ze ready, gemmen." — Stars and stripes. — Glorious freedom. — Home!
In obedience to orders, Glazier and his comrade were at once marched off to the county jail at Springfield, Georgia, then in the hands of the military authorities. They were the only military prisoners confined there, and were allowed the privilege of leaving their cell and going into the yard for fresh air. They were not a little amused by the crowds of wondering citizens who visited the jail to view the "two live Yanks."
These worthy citizens were greatly exercised that the prisoners should be permitted to leave their cells, and called on the jailer to remove them from the yard or they would take the keys into their own hands; but the officer in command told them that he was personally responsible for their safe-custody, and refused to remove them. These white Georgians were a very primitive class of people. Utterly illiterate and uninformed, their mode of speech was as bad as that of the most ignorant slaves on the plantations. The term "white trash," whatever its origin, was a most appropriate designation. No care had been taken to educate them—no school-houses built; education being confined to the few whose wealth enabled them to send their children to Northern schools, or to engage a private tutor. Discovering that the prisoners were harmless, many of these people asked them questions of a curious and comical nature. They thought Yankees were imps of darkness, possessed of horns and hoof, and, seeing that the prisoners were formed not unlike themselves, were with difficulty persuaded that they were "Yankees." Their idea of the causes and character of the war was ludicrous in the extreme, and will hardly bear description—the negroes themselves being far better informed upon this, as they were upon most other subjects.
A very brief examination before a hastily convened board of officers resulted in a finding that the captives were "escaped prisoners of war," and not "spies." They were accordingly asked, where they were captured, where imprisoned, when they escaped, etc.; and then a strong guard from the Second Georgia Cavalry was detailed to convey them, with fifteen other prisoners from the Fourteenth Army Corps, to Waynesboro.
From the other prisoners Glazier gleaned much useful information concerning the situation of the Union lines, and also learned where the rebel troops were stationed in Sherman's rear. Should he attempt another escape, this knowledge would be valuable. The rebel escort cared very little for the wants of their prisoners, and issued no rations whatever to them—they themselves being entirely dependent on foraging for their own supplies. As the unfortunate prisonerscould not forage for themselves they had to go without, a condition of things that spoke little for the soldierly feeling of the guard. All attempts to elude the vigilance of the latter during the day had failed, and as darkness drew on, Glazier and his friend felt in very low spirits. They came to a halt a few minutes before dark, and were quartered in an old building for the night.
In passing through a large swamp, just before halting, the water was so deep that each man had to wade through as he best could. The guard exerted themselves to their utmost to keep them together, but in spite of their efforts to do so, one of the prisoners fell out, and his absence was overlooked by the sergeant, although noticed by his fellow-prisoners, who succeeded in convincing the sergeant that all were present. The mode was this: Glazier found out the absent man's name, and then volunteered to call the roll from a list in the sergeant's possession. It being dark, a piece of pitch-pine was lighted, and the list handed to Glazier, who proceeded to call the names. All answered, except the absentee, when, according to previous arrangement, each affirmed that no such man had been among them. The sergeant sapiently concluded that the name had found its way upon the roster by some error, and nothing further was said about it. Had this little ruse not been resorted to, great efforts would have been made to recover the fugitive. Picked men would have been detailed, hounds called out from the nearest plantation, and a very short time would have convinced the unfortunate victim how little hope there was for him who sought to shun the horrors of prison-life by an escape.
The Escape From Sylvania, Georgia—running The Guard.THE ESCAPE FROM SYLVANIA, GEORGIA—RUNNING THE GUARD.
THE ESCAPE FROM SYLVANIA, GEORGIA—RUNNING THE GUARD.
We do not propose entering into any detail of this march into captivity, more especially as our hero has himself fully and graphically described it in his "Capture, Prison-Pen and Escape," compiled from a diary kept during the whole period of his adventurous career, and published in 1865. We will merely state here that on Monday, December nineteenth, 1864, after a dreary march of twenty-five miles, the captives found themselves encamped for the night at the little village of Sylvania, Georgia; half-way between the point of their departure and that of their destination, Waynesboro.
Glazier's mind, during the whole of the day, had been preoccupied with but one subject—how to escape!—this problem excluding every other thought or consideration of himself or his surroundings.
Early in the evening the prisoners were stationed on the porch of a large unoccupied building, and here it was determined they should pass the night. The villagers of Sylvania knew little of the sad realities of war, having hitherto happily escaped the visits of the armed hosts. They surrounded the men of the escort, and plied them with many curious questions, which were good-naturedly answered with as much, or as little exaggeration as good soldiers usually indulge in when confronted with greenhorns. Their attention, thus agreeably occupied by the simple-minded villagers, was in some degree removed from their charge, and this little circumstance seemed propitious to Glazier, who was watching intently his opportunity.
The sergeant had notified the prisoners that his foragers had returned with a quantity of sweet potatoes and some corn-bread; that the former would be issuedto the "Yanks," and the latter to the guard. Orders also were given to place all the food at one end of the porch, where a fire had been kindled of rail fence; and the potatoes were to be served to the prisoners from that point.
Glazier, under the pretence of desiring to use the fire for the purpose of roasting the potatoes, obtained leave for all to remain outside on the porch until after supper. This concession reluctantly granted, hope sprang in his breast that the opportunity he so ardently sought was now at hand. Quickly he determined upon his plan of operation, and seeing Lieutenant John W. Wright, of the Tenth Iowa Volunteers, near him, whispered in his ear an outline of his desperate project, and invited the latter to join in putting it into execution. To this proposition, without a moment's consideration, Wright consented.
The two candidates for freedom then sauntered towards the end of the porch, conversing loudly and cheerfully upon general topics, and thus excited no suspicion of their intentions. The hungry prisoners gathered around the ration-board, when Glazier covertly signaled his companion, and each suddenly clutched a good handful of the corn-bread. Under cover of the increasing darkness, and screened from observation by the men who stood between them and the guard, they quietly but rapidly, in a stooping position, stole away, making for the edge of a neighboring wood. Not a word was spoken, and in less time than it takes to record it, they were concealed among the foliage and undergrowth; and, befriended by the darkness, were completely masked from the observation of the enemy.
Fortunately their flight was unobserved until after the distribution of the rations, when the guard missedtheir corn-bread. This seemed to be felt more than the loss of their prisoners, the sergeant exclaiming, in euphemistic southern (according to Glazier), "By dog on't! the d—d Yankee officers have done gone and took all our corn-bread. I'll have them, if it costs me a horse!"
Calling out a corporal and four men, he quickly ordered them to go to the nearest plantation for hounds, and to "bring back the two Yanks dead or alive," adding that he "guessed they had taken the Springfield road," which was the nearest route to the Federal lines.
It happened, however, that the peremptory orders of the sergeant were overheard by Glazier and Wright, who were hidden not many yards away in the wood. Instead, therefore, of proceeding on the direct road by way of Springfield, they retraced their steps in the dark, and by this means baffled their pursuers. Having reached the Middle Ground Road, over which they had lately passed, they bounded over it to avoid leaving their foot-prints, and thus broke the trail. They were now in a large and densely-wooded swamp, and, effectually concealed by the umbrageous covering, sat down to a council of war.
We may here state that Lieutenant Lemon, the late faithful companion of our hero, had been prevented from participating in the plan of escape, and was eventually taken back to be re-tortured in his old quarters at Columbia. Wright was also an escaped prisoner from Columbia, whom Glazier had often met during his imprisonment there. He escaped from "Camp Sorghum" a few days after Lemon and Glazier, but unfortunately was recaptured just when he felt that he was about to bid adieu to his captivity.
Lieutenant Wright possessed one advantage for the dangerous and desperate enterprise they had now re-entered upon—he knew the country. By his advice, therefore, it was agreed to remain quietly concealed in the swamp until night, when he would lead the way to the hut of a negro who had befriended him during his previous attempt to escape.
About midnight he piloted Glazier to the hut of "Old Richard," a worthy and kind-hearted negro, who had supplied him with hoe-cake and bacon just before his recapture. Richard was in ecstasies on beholding his friend, Massa Wright, again, whom he knew to have been retaken, and with due formality, our hero was introduced. On being asked for some bacon and sweet potatoes to put with their corn-bread, he replied: "Pooty hard case, massa; but dis yer darkey'll do de best he can. Can't get nuffin' on this plantation, but reckon I can buy some 'tatoes down at Massa Smith's, three miles from yer, and will go down thar after I finish my task to-morrer. As to meat," he said, "you know, massa, dat in the Souf de slave takes what de white folks frows away, and I reckon you all couldn't eat a tainted ham dat ole massa gib me t'other day; but if you can, God knows dis chile gibs it to you wid all his heart." Having become, from long fasting, almost entirely indifferent to the sense of taste, our friends gave Old Richard to understand that the ham would be welcome.
The important question of rations having been thus satisfactorily arranged, Richard was asked to guide the fugitives to some place of hiding, where no rebel could find them. Accordingly, they were conducted to a swamp, and soon discovered a secure place of concealment for the day. "The whippoorwill and turtle-dove," Captain Glazier writes, "enlivened the hours with their inspiring notes, and as night began to approach, the gloomy owl, from the tree-tops, uttered his solemn warning cry. The pine and cypress, swayed by the breeze, moaned a perpetual chorus, and under their teaching we learned, during the long, dreary hours, how much we were indebted to these dismal wilds, that concealed both friend and foe.
"Here the rebel deserter concealed himself from his pursuers. Here the loyalist found a hiding-place from the rebel conscripting officer. Here the trembling negro had his first taste of freedom. Here the escaped Union prisoner was enabled to baffle blood-hounds and human-hounds, and make his way to the Federal lines."
The day wore away at length, and as darkness was approaching, Old Richard, true to his promise, was on hand with the supplies. He gave the fugitives all he had been able to purchase with his small means, and they, after asking God to bless him for his kindness, departed. Our friends trudged away, rejoicing, notwithstanding their fatigue, and the bodily weakness of Glazier. For the latter had by this time been reduced in weight to not more than ninety pounds, his usual weight having been about one hundred and forty-five. He was still, however, filled with indomitable "pluck," and a determination to conquer the situation, with all its dread horrors, and return to his colors. Wright, on the other hand, had a splendid physique, and cared little for hardships that would have intimidated, or perhaps killed, an ordinary man. On several occasions he picked Glazier up and generously bore him uponhis broad shoulders over the worst parts of the swamp, the latter being too weak to make his way alone without falling into the slough-holes.
They were startled, in the course of this night, on seeing two men, who, by their conversation, which was overheard, proved to be rebel deserters from Wheeler's command. Our friends deemed it the wisest plan to secrete themselves behind a log until the men had passed.
At break of day they again concealed themselves, and rested between the roots of an ancient cypress. Their ears were now greeted with the distant boom of heavy cannon, which came from the direction of Savannah. This helped in directing their course for the following night, and also announced to them in plain language that they were not very far from the friends they longed to meet.
Refreshed and hopeful they started as the shades of evening fell, determined, if possible, to accomplish a good march before daylight.
They had not, however, proceeded far, when a large plantation became visible, the white mansion gleaming through the trees. Wright recognizing the place, suggested that Glazier might procure a good supper, and something for the haversack, if he would boldly call and personate a rebel officer, trusting to his face and ready wit to carry him through. He had heard from some negroes that the only occupant was a Mrs. Keyton and some young children, the wife and family of the planter, who was an officer in the rebel army; and further that there were no hounds about the place.
Glazier, with characteristic promptness, acquiesced;and the following is a description of the interview, extracted from the diary, which amid all his wanderings and trials he never failed to keep regularly written up:
"After hearing Wright's description, and having agreed upon signals of danger, should any occur, I started on my foraging expedition, with a good degree of assurance.
"Stepping up to the door of the mansion, I rapped, and the lady soon made her appearance. She seemed both refined and intelligent. I asked, 'Can you give this rebel a supper?' She replied, 'You shall have the best the house affords,' and invited me to step in and take a seat by the fire. I did so, saying, as I took my seat, 'Madam, I am shocked at the dastardly conduct of General Sherman in his march through Georgia. It has been characterized by nothing but what should excite revenge, and move to action, every man possessing a true Southern spirit. Our aged citizens, who have banded together for mutual protection, have been treated as bushwackers—have been driven from their homes, and their property confiscated. Our hounds, always true to the interests of the South, have been shot down by the road-side for no other reason than that they were used in tracking escaped prisoners—'
"Interrupting me here, the lady remarked, much to my surprise, that she could not see that the Yankees were much worse than the Confederates, after all. She added: "'When the Yankee army passed through this State, they took from the rich the supplies necessary for their sustenance; and when our cavalry followed they took nearly all that was left, seeming to carebut little for our wants, and often depriving defenceless women and children of their last morsel of bread.'
"'I regret, madam, that the conduct of our troops has been such as to give you reason for complaint.'
"'I, too, regret that our men have not proved themselves worthy of a cause which they appear so willing to defend.'
"'Remember,' I continued, 'that our commissary department has been completely wrecked, and that we are entirely dependent upon the people for the subsistence of a large army.'
"By the sad expression of her countenance, which accompanied and followed this remark, I saw clearly that she felt we had reached a crisis in the war, when Providence was turning the tables, and she accordingly interrogated:
"'And what do you think of present prospects?'
"I quickly responded, 'Our future looks dark—our cause appears almost hopeless, but the sacrifices of our gallant dead remain unavenged. Therefore, we must fight while there is a man left, and die in the last ditch.'
"'If there be no longer any hope of success, sir, I should say that it would be better to lay down our arms at once, and go back under the old flag.'
"'Madam, we must fight, wemust fight!'
"'But it is wickedness and worse than madness to continue this awful massacre of human beings, without some prospect of ultimate success.'
"'Very true; but we have lost all in this struggle, and must sell our lives as dearly as possible.'
"By this time the good lady seemed to have waxedenthusiastic, and warm as the fire over which the servant was preparing my supper, and she answered:
"'My husband is a captain in the Twenty-fifth Georgia Infantry. He is the father of these children, and is very dear to both them and me. Long have I prayed that he might be spared to return to his family, but fear that we shall never be permitted to see him again. When he entered the army, I admired his patriotism, and was glad to see him go in defence of what I supposed to be the true interests of the southern people; butwe have been deceived from the beginning by our military and political leaders. It is time to open our eyes, and see what obstinacy has brought us. We are conquered. Let us return to the rule of the Federal government, ere we are ruined.'
"Madam, your sympathies appear to be largely with the Yankees.'
"'It is not strange, sir; I was born and educated in New England;—and your speech would indicate that you too are not a native of the South.'
"'You are right; I am a New Yorker by birth, but have been for a considerable time in South Carolina.'
"After partaking of the frugal meal set before me, which consisted of corn-bread and sweet potatoes, I thanked the lady for her kindness, and told her that I regretted very deeply that I was not in a situation to remunerate her for so much trouble. Noticing my blue pants as I arose from the table, she remarked:
"'It is impossible for me to know our men from the Yankees by the uniform; but a few days since, two soldiers asked me to get them some supper, claiming to be scouts to General Wheeler; they told many very plausible stories, and the next day, to my astonishment, I was charged with harboring Yankee spies.'
"'I do not wonder that you find it difficult to distinguish the Yankee from the Confederate soldier, for in these trying times a poor rebel is compelled to wear anything he can get. The dead are always stripped, and at this season of the year, we find the Federal uniform far more comfortable than our own.'
"'It must be an awful extremity that could tempt men to strip the dying and the dead!'
"'We have become so much accustomed to such practices, that we are unmoved by scenes which might appall and sicken those who have never served in our ranks.'
"'I sincerely hope that these murderous practices will soon be at an end.'
"Feeling that I had been absent from my comrade long enough, and that it was time to make my departure, I arose, saying,
"'I must go, madam; may I know to whom I am so much indebted for my supper and kind entertainment this evening?'
"'Mrs. James Keyton. And what may I call your name?'
"'Willard Glazier, Fifty-third Alabama Mounted Infantry.'
"'Should you chance to meet the Twenty-fifth Georgia, please inquire for Captain Keyton, and say to him that his wife and children are well, and send their love.'
"'He shall certainly have your message if it is my good fortune to meet him. Good-night.'"
Leaving Mrs. Keyton with her fears for the rebel cause in general, and her husband in particular, Glazier hurried out to find his friend Wright pacing up and down the road in a bad humor at having been kept solong waiting; but setting their faces in the direction of Springfield, they at once started on their march. They soon found themselves approaching the rebel forces in General Sherman's rear, and determined at all risks to obtain information of the two armies. They were at General Iverson's headquarters, and at one time were within fifteen paces of the house he occupied.
Cautiously concealing themselves behind trees they reached a spot within earshot of the provost-guard, and overheard their conversation. The prospects of the war were freely discussed, and the fall of Savannah. The conclusion forced on the minds of our friends was that the Confederate cause was losing ground, and its armies would soon be compelled to surrender to the Union force.
Glazier and his comrade left the spot inspired with renewed courage.
Six miles on their road to Springfield found daylight approaching, and the fugitives hurriedly secreted themselves among some tall swamp grass. They were suddenly aroused by the baying of a blood-hound, and immediately sprang to their feet.
"We are followed!" exclaimed Wright.
"What do you propose to do?" quickly asked Glazier.
"I am undecided," was the unsatisfactory reply.
"It is my opinion," said Glazier, promptly, "that if we are not off at once we shall be prisoners."
"Well, off it is!" spoke Wright; and both struck off in a southeasterly direction in double quick time. Fences and ditches were leaped, and streams forded, the hounds approaching so nearly that their baying could be distinctly heard by the fugitives; but fortunately, or providentially, they came to a large creek, and jumping in, waded along its course for a distance of some sixty rods, then emerging, pursued their journey in the direction they had intended. About one o'clock they concluded they had out-generaled the bushwhackers and their hounds. Elated by success they became less cautious and did not halt. About two o'clock Glazier was startled by seeing his companion drop suddenly and silently behind a tree. Glazier followed, watching the movements of Wright, and presently saw that they were within a few rods of a Confederate picket. Before they had time to move a cavalry patrol came up to the post with instructions, and, as soon as he had passed, our friends crawled upon their hands and knees into the friendly swamp, and thus screened themselves from their enemy.
Thehounds, however, were a source of greater danger to the fugitives than the rebel pickets; the training and scent of the former having been so perfected and developed by long and cruel use in the recapture of fugitive slaves, that, to evade them, was almost an impossibility. Hence the sense of caution was strained to the utmost both by night and day on the part of our friends.
The use of blood-hounds in warfare is consideredbarbarousin every country pretending to civilization, even if they are employed against a foreign foe. How much more so, in a war waged between fellow-citizens of one blood, one history, one language, and in numerous instances, bearing domestic or family relations to each other; and this, in support of a cause, the righteousness of which was doubted by many who found themselves unwillingly compelled to give in theiradherence at the dictation of a few ambitious men. For this sin a righteous God has judged them! A cause thus supported deserved defeat in the estimation of just men of every nation, apart from all political considerations.
Captain Glazier and his friend congratulated themselves on having so far eluded, by every expedient known to them, the sanguinary fangs of these barbarous instruments of warfare; and after nightfall continued their route, passing the picket in the darkness.
Soon after they encountered a colored friend, known among his people as "Uncle Philip." This good darkey informed them that the Federal forces had possession of Cherokee Hill, on the Savannah River Road, only eight miles distant—news which afforded them inexpressible joy! Uncle Philip was asked if he would guide them to the lines; and replied: "I'ze neber ben down dar, massa, sense Massa Sherman's company went to Savannah; but I reckon you-uns can git Massa Jones, a free cullered man, to take you ober. He's a mighty bright pusson, and understands de swamps jest like a book."
On reaching Jones' hut his wife informed them that her husband was out scouting, but was expected back about eleven o'clock. She urged our friends to enter and await his return, as he was always glad to do all in his power for the Yankees. Fearing the rebel scouts might discover them, they, at first, hesitated, but consented on Mrs. Jones promising to be on the alert. She accordingly volunteered her two boys, one of eight years and the other six, for out-post duty, charging them strictly to notify her immediately if they saw any one approaching, so that she might conceal the fugitives. Auntie then promptly placed before them a bountiful supply of hoe-cake and parched corn, the best her humble cot afforded, and most welcome to the famished men.
Jones returned at the appointed hour, but informed his guests that, while very willing to guide them, he was not sufficiently acquainted with the safest route to do so; and referred them to a friend of his, who would accompany them, and whom he could strongly recommend as a competent and safe guide. On visiting this man he also pleaded ignorance of anysaferoute; but mentioned the name of still another "friend of the Yankees," who, he said, had come up from the Union lines that morning and would willingly return with them. This friendly negro also was found. He was a genuine negro, as black as ebony and very devout in his mode of speech. His name was "March Dasher." "I'll do it, massa, if God be my helper!" he answered to their eager inquiry.
Glazier and his comrade were impatient to start at once, but upon this point Dasher was inexorable. "Dis chile knows whar de pickets is in de day-time," he emphatically declared, "but knows nuffin 'bout 'em arter dark;" and absolutely declined to take the risk of falling within the Confederate lines—an act of prudence and firmness for which he was to be much commended.
A fear of treachery was aroused when Dasher tried to induce them to remain in his hut till morning, but this was immediately and entirely removed when he and his household at a signal, fell on their knees, and joined in simple but fervent prayer to the Almighty, as a friend of the friendless—beseeching Him to protect and prosper them in their efforts to flee from their enemies; and much more of a nature to disarm any suspicion of their fidelity and good-will to the Union cause.
Our friends, however, declined to remain in the hut, fearing a surprise from the outpost; and at the conclusion of the prayer, betook themselves to a pine thicket with the joint resolution of giving their dark friend no peace until he started with them to the Federal lines.
About one o'clock in the morning, Wright, impatient of delay, proceeded to the hut, and arousing Dasher, told him that day had just begun to break. He came to the door, and pointing to the stars in the unclouded sky, remarked, with a good-tempered smile, "I reck'n it's good many hours yet till break ob day, massa. Yer can't fool March on de time; his clock neber breaks down. It's jest right ebery time." Wright returned to his lair in the thicket, remarking irritably, as he threw himself down, "Glazier, you might as well undertake to move a mountain, as to get the start of that colored individual!"
At the first peep of dawn, punctual to his promise, Dasher thrust his black, good-humored face into the thicket, and announced:
"Now I'ze ready, gemmen, to take you right plum into Mr. Sherman's company by 'sun-up;'" and as Sol began to gild the tree-tops and the distant eastern hills, the trio came within sight of the Federal camp, and witnessed the "Stars and Stripes," floating triumphantly in the breeze!
What pen can describe their emotions, when—after more than fourteen long months' suffering from imprisonment, starvation, nakedness, bodily and mentalprostration, and every inhumanity short of being murdered, like many of their imprisoned comrades, in cold blood—they again hailedfriendsand foundfreedomat last within their grasp! Words would fail to tell their joy. Let us leave it to the reader to imagine.
On first approaching the camp they were supposed, by their motley attire, to be deserters from the enemy; and, as true soldiers and deserters never fraternize, no signal of welcome was offered by the "boys in blue." The suspicions of the latter, however, were allayed on seeing Glazier and his companion wave their caps: then they were beckoned to come forward. And when it was discovered that they wereescaped prisoners, an enthusiastic grip was given to each by every soldier present, accompanied by cordial congratulations on their successful escape from the barbarous enemy who had had them in custody.
"Each man," writes Glazier, "took us by the hand, congratulating us on our eventful and successful escape, while we cheered the boys for the glorious work they had accomplished for the Union. Haversacks were opened and placed at our disposal. There was a great demand for hard-tack and coffee; but the beauty of it all was, Major Turner was not there, to say what he often repeated, 'Reduce their rations; I'll teach the d—d scoundrels not to attempt to escape!'
"I cannot forget," he adds, "the sea of emotion that well-nigh overwhelmed me, as soon as I could realize the fact that I was no longer a prisoner, and especially when I beheld the starry banner floating triumphantly over the invincibles who had followed their great General down to the sea."
Our hero and his friend became objects of muchcuriosity, while their eventful escape was the subject of general conversation and comment by the brave boys who pressed around them, and who proved to be a detachment of the One Hundred and First Illinois Volunteers, Twentieth Army Corps. Their most intimate friends would have failed to recognize them. Glazier was clad in an old gray jacket and blue pants, with a venerable and dilapidated hat which had seen a prodigious amount of service of a nondescript kind; while a tattered gray blanket that had done duty for many a month as a bed by day and a cloak by night, and was now in the last stage of dissolution from age and general infirmity, completed his unmilitary and unpretentious toilet. Having at first no one to identify them, Glazier and his companion were as strangers among friends, and necessarily without official recognition. At length, however, after much searching, they found Lieutenant Wright's old company, and thus the refugees became officially identified and recognized as Federal officers.
In company with Lieutenant E. H. Fales, who had been his fellow-prisoner at Charleston, and effected his escape, Glazier proceeded on horseback to the headquarters of General Kilpatrick. The General, cordially welcoming and congratulating Glazier on his happy escape, at once furnished him with the documents necessary to secure his transportation to the North. His term of service having expired, he was anxious to revisit his family, who thought him dead, and bidding an affectionate adieu to his friend Wright, he and Lieutenant Fales embarked on a steamship on December twenty-ninth for home. After experiencing the effects of a severe storm at sea, the vessel arrived atthe wharf of the metropolitan city, and our hero adds: "I awoke to the glorious realization that I was again breathing the air of my native State. There was exhilaration and rapture in the thought, which I could not repress, and that moment is fixed as a golden era in my memory. I hope never to become so hardened that that patriotic and Christian exultation will be an unpleasant recollection."
There have probably been few hearts that beat higher with martial ardor, than that of Willard Glazier; but at that moment the thought of "Battle's red carnival" was merged in the gentler recollection of kindred and friends, rest and home.