64. Escape from the Southern Lines
By WILLIAM G. STEVENSON (1862)
WE reached Chattanooga on June 1st, and I found it, to my chagrin, a military camp, containing seven thousand cavalry, under strict military rule. We
were now in a trap, as our pass here ended, and we were near the Federal lines. How to get out of the town was now the problem, and one of the most difficult I had yet
met in my study of Rebel topography. We put up at the Crutchfield House, stabled our horses, and sat about in the bar-room, saying nothing to attract attention, but getting
all the information
possible. I was specially careful not to be recognized. The cavalry company I had commanded on
the long retreat from Nashville, was in Chattanooga
at this time. Had any one of them seen me, my
position would have been doubly critical; as it was,
I felt the need of circumspection. It was clear to me
that we could not leave Chattanooga in military garb, as we had entered
it, for, without a pass, no cavalry
man could leave the lines. This settled, a walk along-the street showed me a Jew clothing-store, with suits new and old, military and agricultural. My resolution was
formed, and I went to the stabletaking with me a newly fledged cavalry officer, who needed and was able to pay for an elegant cavalry saddle. Thus I was rid of one chief
evidence of the military profession. A small portion of the price purchased a plain farmer-like saddle and bridle. An accommodating dealer in clothes next made me look
quite like a country farmer of the middle class. My companion was equally successful in transforming himself, and in the dusk of the evening we were passing out to the
country as farmers who had been in to see the sights.
We safely reached and passed the outer pickets, and then took to the woods, and struck in toward the Tennessee river, hoping to find a ferry where money, backed, if
necessary, by the moral suasion of pistols, would put us across. I was growing desperate, and determined not to be foiled. We made some twelve miles, and then rested in
the woods till morning, when selecting the safest hiding-place I could find, I left my companion with the horses and started out on a reconnoissance.
Trudging along a road in the direction of the river, I met a guileless man who gave me some information of the name and locality of a ferryman, who had formerly acted in
that capacity, though now no one was allowed to cross. Carefully noting all the facts I could draw out of this man, I strolled on and soon fell in with another, and gained
additional light, one item of which was that the old flat lay near, and
just below, the ferryman's house. Thus enlightened,
I walked on and found the house and my breakfast. Being a traveler, I secured without suspicion
sandwiches enough to supply my companion with dinner and supper, which he enjoyed as he took care of the horses in the woods. A circuitous route brought me to them, and I was pleased to see the horses making a good meal from the abundant grass. This was an
important point, as our lives might yet depend upon their speed and endurance.
I laid before my companion the rather dubious prospect, that the orders were strict that no man should be ferried across the river; the ferryman was faithful to the South; he had been conscientious in his refusal to many
applications; no sum would induce him to risk his neck, etc. Yet my purpose was formed: we must cross the river that night, and this man must take us over, as there was no other hope of escape. Having laid the plan before
my companion, as evening drew on I again sought the cabin of the retired
ferryman. My second appearance was explained by the statement that I had
got off the road, and wandering in the woods, had come round to the same
place.
After taking supper with the ferryman, we walked out smoking and chatting. By degrees I succeeded in taking him down near the ferry, and there sat down on the bank to try the effect upon his avaricious heart of the sight of
some gold which I had purchased at Montgomery. His eye glistened as e examined an eagle with unwonted eagerness, while we talked of the uncertain value of paper-money, and the probable future value of Confederate
scrip.
As the time drew near when my companion, according to agreement, was to ride boldly to the
river, I stepped down to take a look at his unused flat. He, of course, walked with me. While standing with my foot
upon the end of his boat, I heard the tramp of the horses, and said to him, in a quiet
tone— "Here is an eagle; you must take me and my companion over."He remonstrated, and could not
risk his life for that ; another ten dollars was demanded and paid, the horses were in the flat, and
in two minutes we were off for—home.
I arranged, when we touched the bank, to be in the rear of the ferryman, and followed him as he stepped off the boat to take breath before a return pull. "Now, my good fellow,"said I, "you have done us one good turn for
pay, you must do another for friendship. We are strangers here, and you must take us to the foot of Waldron's Ridge, and then we will release you."To this demand he demurred most vigorously; but my determined position
between him and the boat, gentle words, and an eloquent exhibition of my six-shooter, the sheen of which the moonlight enabled him to perceive, soon ended the parley, and onward he moved. We kept him in the road slightly
ahead of us, with our horses on his two flanks, and chatted as sociably as the circumstances would permit. For six long miles we guarded our prisoner-pilot, and, after apologizing for our rudeness on the plea of
self-preservation, and thanking him for his enforced service, we bade him good-night, not doubting that he would reach the river in time to ferry himself over before daylight, and console his frightened wife by the sight of the
golden bribe.
We were now, at eleven o'clock at night, under the shadow of a dark mountain, and with no knowledge
of the course we were to take, other than the general purpose of pressing northward.
By nine o'clock the next morning we reached a farm-house, whose inmates, without many troublesome inquiries, agreed to feed our half-starved horses and give us some
breakfast.
We made some thirty miles that day, and ascending the Cumberland range in the evening, we again sought rest among the rocks. This we judged safest, since we knew not
who might have seen us during the day, of an inquiring state of mind, as to our purpose and destination.
On the morning of June 4th, by a détour to conceal the course from which we came, and a journey of a dozen of miles, we reached the home of my friend.
The day after our arrival, he took to his bed and never rose again. The hardships he had endured in the journey home, acting upon a system enfeebled by his wound,
terminated in inflammation of the lungs, which within a week ended his life.
One more step was needed to make me safe; that was, to get within the Federal lines, take the oath of allegiance, and secure a pass. But how could this be accomplished?
Should the Federal authorities suspect me of having been in the Rebel service, would they allow me to take the oath and go my way.?
knew not ; but well I knew the Confederate officers were never guilty of such an absurdity.
An incident which occurred about the 20th of June, both endangered my escape and yet put me upon the way of its accomplishment. I rode my pet horse Selim into the
village of McMinnville, a few miles from the place of my sojourn, to obtain information as to the proximity of the Federal forces, and, if possible,
devise a plan of getting within their lines without exciting suspicion. As Selim stood at the hotel, to the amazement of every one, General Dumont's cavalry galloped into
town, and one of the troopers taking a fancy to my horse, led him off without my knowledge, and certainly without my consent. My only consolation was, that my noble
Selim was now to do service in the loyal ranks.
The cavalry left the town in a few hours, after erecting a flagstaff and giving the Stars and Stripes to the breeze.
I left soon after the Federals did, but in an opposite direction, with my final plan perfected. When hailed by the pickets, a mile from the town, I told them I wished to see
the officer in command. They directed me where to find him, and allowed me to advance. When I found the officer, I stated that some Federal cavalry had taken my horse
in McMinnville a few days ago, and I wished to recover him. He told me he could give me no authority to secure any horse, unless I would take the oath of allegiance to
the United States. To this I made no special objection. With a seeming hesitation, and yet with a joy that was almost too great to be concealed, I solemnly subscribed the
following oath:
"I solemnly swear, without any mental reservation or evasion, that I will support the Constitution of the United States and the laws made in pursuance thereof; and that I
will not take up arms against the United States, or give aid or comfort, or furnish information, directly or indirectly, to any person or persons belonging to any of the
so-styled Confederate States who are now or may be in rebellion against the United States. So help me God."
The other side of the paper contained a military pass, by authority of Lieutenant-colonel J. G. Parkhurst, Military Governor of Murfreesboro.
