piffin gives us all the provisions she had cooked for dinner—hopes some one will do as much for her son (who is in the confederate army)—a ride in filthy cattle cars through charleston, savannah and macon—arrival at andersonville.

The next day, April 21, we left camp at 12 m., having been issued rations of some of the hard tack and coffee they had captured, and guarded by the 35th North Carolina, Colonel Jones, were marched about eighteen miles. We were well treated by officers and men, and so far as my own observation went, no insults or indignities were suffered by any. I marched all day at the head of the column, which I preferred to do, as it is much easier to march at the head than the rear, in dusty roads. As a specimen of Colonel Jones’ treatment to me, I will state that at the end of the first days march, when we were halted to go into camp, he rode up to me and handing me a pint flask filled with captured commissary, told me to take a drink and pass it down the line as far as it would go, which I don’t think was very far if all took as big a drink as I did. Being a cavalry officer and unused to marching, I was very tired with the long tramp and the last few days of hard service, and imagined I could see a look of envy on the faces of some of those farther down the line, as I held my breath on that bottle.

As we were making camp, Capt. Hock and myself went into the woods, on the opposite side of the road, ostensibly to gather some dry limbs with which to cook our coffee, but really in the hope of getting outside of the guard and sneaking off. We walked along, picking up sticks, and had as we supposed, got beyond the line, and were just discussing our chances, when we were ordered back into camp by one of the Johnnies who was still outside of us, so we took our wood and went into camp, cooked our coffee, rolled ourselves up in our blankets and slept as only tired soldiers can sleep.

Among those whom I had learned to rely upon as truly loyal and counted as my friends, were Captain Wynn, who lived near our vidette picket post, and a lawyer named Jones, who frequently visited me in my quarters. I also had a guide named Wynn, a relative of the captain, who had been with me on a good many expeditions, and another named Modlin, who had done me much service in giving information from outside our lines, and who had finally moved his family inside the lines for better protection. These two guides I furnished with our cavalry uniform and passed them as part of our detachment.

On our third day’s march however, they were spotted as “Buffalos” by some of their North Carolina friends and concluded that the only way to save their necks was to escape, which they both did and reached our lines at Newburn.

The next day, April 22, we broke camp at 6 a. m., and marched to Williamstown, passing through Foster’s Mills, which was surrounded with entrenchments and garrisoned with some North Carolina troops that we had often encountered in our frequent reconnoissances, their band treating us to “Dixie” as we passed. The next day we reached Hamilton, N. C., where we remained until ten o’clock Sunday morning. Col. Jones, who had thus far been in command, and who had treated us with marked kindness, often dismounting to give some weary Yankee a ride on his horse, here took his leave and turned us over to Lt. Col. Crowley, of the Holcomb Legion, who started us for Tarboro. It gives me great pleasure here to relate another instance of hospitality which I enjoyed, for up to this time we had received more acts of kindness than of rudeness.

We were out of rations and stopped for a few moment’s rest in front of the plantation of Mrs. Piffin, and I received permission to go to the house and buy some provisions. This lady had just boiled a ham and baked some biscuit for the dinner, and upon learning of our not having had anything to eat that day, freely gave us all she had. I offered to remunerate her, but she would not take any pay, saying she had a son in the Confederate army and she was only doing by me, as she hoped some one would do by him should they see him in like circumstances. I sought out this lady after my return to Tarboro in 1865, and had the pleasure of a visit with that son, who was then home suffering from a wound, when I had the satisfaction of, in a measure, repaying her for her kindness to the Yankee stranger.

When we reached Tarboro we were a hungry and tired crowd. We camped on the east bank of Tar river opposite the town, where I prevailed upon the Sergeant to send a guard with me into the town to buy some provisions. I went to the hotel and bought nine sandwiches for ten dollars. The hotel was crowded with people from the surrounding country, who had come to town to see the Yankee prisoners, and I seemed an object of a good deal of curiosity dressed in the full uniform of a cavalry officer.

All were talking about the great victory that Hoke had gained in the capture of Plymouth. He had taken Plymouth and made prisoners of the garrison, but at what a fearful loss. A few more such victories would ruin the Confederacy! We remained at Tarboro until ten o’clock the next day, 26th, when we were crowded into cattle cars of the most filthy description, forty of us being placed in each car, besides two guards at each of the side doors. These cars had been used for the transportation of beef cattle and had not been cleansed in the least since thus used. It was, therefore, like lying in a cow stable. We now began to realize what short rations, or no rations, meant. I bought a pie when we arrived at Goldsboro, for which I paid five dollars. At this rate a millionaire could not long remain outside the poor house. At 5 a. m. on the 27th, we arrived at Wilmington, where we disembarked and crossed the river on the ferry. Rations of soft bread and spoiled bacon were here distributed, and we were again put on board the cars, which were even more filthy than those we had just left. We arrived at Florence at midnight, where we were allowed to disembark and remain until the morning of the 28th. Here our guard was again changed and the 19th Georgia took charge of us.

We passed through Charleston in the night, and reached Savannah at 3 p. m. the 29th. While we stopped at Savannah, a large crowd congregated to see the live Yankees. They all seemed pleased to see us, and some of our great political aspirants would feel proud of such an ovation as we received here, ladies waving their handkerchiefs and the men cheering us lustily, hurrahing and swinging their hats. One lady actually threw a kiss at me on the sly, and I believe she was in favor of the union—no pun. The next morning, April 30th, we passed through Macon, making a stop of two hours, then we started again, and at 4 o’clock we arrived at Andersonville.

CHAPTER VII.