92. XCII.
WHAT FOLLOWED.
The next morning I was placed, with other Confederate prisoners,
upon a train of cars, which came up from Baltimore to a
point near Frederick City; and no sooner had I observed the
arrangements made for guarding the prisoners, than I resolved
to attempt to escape.
The carriages in which we were placed were “passenger cars,”
with wide windows, quite sufficient to permit the passage of a
man's body; and I saw at a glance that, if I could avoid attracting
the attention of the infantry guard at the doors, I could pass
my body through one of the apertures. Then, as this could only
be effected, with any chance of escape, while the train was in
motion, I must take the probable results of a heavy fall. That
fall might break my neck, or my limbs; but something has to be
risked in war; and the horrors of a Northern prison loomed up
in hideous colors before my eyes. I resolved to risk every thing.
The train was soon full of prisoners, and in motion toward
Baltimore. I made a reconnoissance of my surroundings. Every
seat was filled, and the air was so close that many of the windows
had been opened. Up and down the aisle between the
seats walked a Federal guard, with musket and bayonet. At
each door stood another, armed in the same manner.
I shall not further trouble the reader with the difficulties I encountered
in the undertaking which I had resolved upon. After
all, the design was not so critical or dangerous; and hundreds of
prisoners escaped during the war precisely in the manner I did.
Watching my moment when the sentinel's back was turned,
and the train was passing through a belt of woods, I passed my
body through the open window, threw myself out, and fell violently
to the ground.
As I rose, stunned and bewildered, but with no bones broken,
a musket was discharged from the train, which had swept on,
and a bullet whistled by my head; then another followed, and I
heard that grating sound which is made by the iron wheels of a
railroad train when the brakes are put on to check it.
It was too late, however. I was far behind, and, hastening
into the woods, I went on rapidly, until the railroad was many
miles distant.
So far I was safe. What remained now was, to elude the
patrols and scouting-parties of the enemy, who would instantly
discover my identity from my gray uniform. To avoid all such
dangerous people, I plunged deeper into the woods, and, reaching
a secluded dell, through which ran a small watercourse, selected
a clump of bushes, and, worn out with my rapid march, lay down
upon the cool turf to rest.
My intention was to remain thus perdu until night, to avoid
scouting-parties; and I had begun to think rather ruefully of the
tremendous tramp before me, all the way to Leesburg, when I
heard the sound of horses' hoofs, and cautiously looked out from
my covert.
Two Federal cavalry-men had entered the glade, attracted by
the green grass and flowing stream, and in a moment I saw them
stop, unbridle their horses, and turn them loose to graze.
The men then lay down in the sunshine, and began conversing
idly.
I was within twenty paces, and heard every word which they
uttered, but understood nothing. The explanation of the fact is
very simple. The newcomers were two stolid young Dutchmen,
evidently raw recruits, and they spoke in the genuine guttural of
the Fatherland.
In half an hour they ceased talking, stretched themselves
prone on the grass, and a low thunder through the nose proved
that, overcome by the warm sunshine, and the fatigue probably
of a march, they had fallen asleep.
Suddenly, as I gazed out cautiously upon the slumbering Teutons,
I thought, “Why not capture these two worthies?” The
affair was not difficult. I saw that they had unbuckled the belts
around their portly persons, laid their weapons aside, and, if
once I was in possession of their pistols, the thing was decided.
Why not?—and, raising my head cautiously, I reconnoitred
again.
The men were sleeping as sound as the seven champions of
Christendom, and I no longer hesitated. Rising without noise,
I listened, advanced from the covert, and then with three
bounds reached the spot and seized the weapons of the cavalry-men.
The noise woke them, and they started up, but it was only to
find a cocked pistol as their breasts. They were my prisoners,
and as harmless as lambs.
No time was now lost. I ordered the men by signs to bridlo
up, and this they did with an air of perfect indifference; they
rode Government horses.
By this time I had taken my resolution. Ordering one of the
men, as before, to take off his blue coat, I put it on, strapping
my own behind one of the saddles, and then directing the other
prisoner to mount, I got into the saddle of the second horse,
leaving the coatless personage to make his way back as he could
to his command. I set forward rapidly, with my mounted prisoner
toward the Potomac.
We travelled all that night, meeting no one—were chased the
next morning by a Federal scouting-party, but outran them, and
finally I reached and crossed the river at Leesburg, and was once
more within the Southern lines.
Does the reader regard this adventure as indicative of “dash,”
“nerve,” &c., &c., in Major Surry? Not at all. There was no
more difficulty in capturing those men after once securing their
arms, than in letting them finish thair nap. They were conscripts,
riding Government horses, and averse to fighting, much
preferring prison-life and regular rations.
I delivered up my prisoner and his horse to a quartermaster at
Leesburg, and then rapidly made my way toward the Valley—
Harry Saltoun's watch still safe upon my person.
Crossing the Shenandoah, opposite Hillsboro', I pushed on;
heard that Harper's Ferry had fallen; and, still continuing my
way, reached the Potomac near Sharpsburg at sunset, to find
General Lee's defiant lines still facing the enemy after the tremendous
struggle of that memorable day.
