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CHAPTER XVI.

THE ESCAPE FROM SYLVANIA, GEORGIA.

Twenty-fifth Day.

IN A SWAMP NEAR SYLVANIA, GA., |
Tuesday, December 20, 1864.

DARKNESS was settling down over the scene last described, and, though almost completely exhausted by the long march of the day, the prospect of a supper just at hand, and of something even better than "meat and drink" after it, quite relieved me of all weakness, and nerved me for another desperate attempt to escape. The sergeant of the guard had told me that a pile of sweet potatoes was reserved for the prisoners, and so calling the attention of Lieutenant J. W. Wright, Tenth Iowa Volunteers, who was then conversing with a citizen, I asked him if it was not time for him to draw his potato rations. At the same time I gave him a significant look, which only prisoners of long experience, like ourselves, could understand, and which he quickly interpreted to mean a change of base. Hastily withdrawing from the citizen, he met me on the porch, where I communicated to him my plan, and inquired if he would join me in its execution. He replied, without hesitation, that he was up to anything but going back to South Carolina, and

would not shrink from bearing a hand in any move which I might make to escape from Rebel cruelty.

Lemon, my long-tried companion, was so peculiarly circumstanced, as to be prevented from participating in this plan, and was taken back to Columbia. I will here say that Wright was also an escaped prisoner from Columbia, whom I had often met during my imprisonment there; he left Columbia a few days after Lemon and myself, but unfortunately, like us, was recaptured at a time when he felt that he was about to bid adieu to the scenes of his suffering.

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Finding that "escape on the brain was Wright's prevailing malady, I lost no time in making what I considered the necessary preliminaries.

I first saw one of the prisoners, who, I had been told by the sergeant, would be allowed to issue the potatoes. I requested him to make the issue upon receiving a certain signal from me, which I made him understand perfectly.

I then asked Wright to step to the end of the porch, near where the corn-bread lay, that was intended for the Rebel guard. I followed immediately after, but was observed by the sergeant, who seemed to wonder at this singular flank movement; he said nothing, however, for we allayed his suspicion of our intentions, by sitting down and entering into conversation. In a moment more a citizen came up, and called his attention from us.

The signal was made, and the half-starved men closed up for their potatoes. It was now quite dark; I hastily took possession of the corn-bread, and taking

advantage of the crowd, which screened us from the guard, we sloped for a small clump of bushes that were but a few rods distant. Our sudden move was fortunately unnoticed, until after the distribution of the potatoes. Great excitement then prevailed.

The sergeant suddenly arousing himself, exclaimed, "By dog on't, the d-d Yankee officers have done gone, and taken all our corn-bread. I will have them, if it costs me a horse."

Calling out a corporal and four men, he instructed them to proceed to a plantation for hounds, and to bring back the Yanks either dead or alive. He thought it probable that we would take the Springfield road, as that was the nearest route to our lines.

We were all this time so near the guard that we could hear distinctly every word that was spoken, and, as a matter of course, understood the programme perfectly.

We decided with the sergeant, that the route by way of Springfield was unquestionably the one to be preferred; but we did not consider it policy to strike the road when we knew it would soon be patrolled with guards and hounds, and concluded not to be in any hurry until the excitement was over.

As soon as we thought quietness was sufficiently restored to warrant a safe movement, under cover of the darkness and woods, we hurriedly decamped from our place of concealment, and made our way around to the Middle Ground road, over which we had passed but a few hours before under guard. We leaped across it, so as to avoid the suspicion which tracks would very naturally excite, and hastened into a large

swamp but a short distance from town. While there, we decided upon the course to be pursued, which was recommended by Wright.

The lieutenant had been over the Middle Ground road before, to within a few miles of Springfield, where he was recaptured; and his experience we considered a valuable possession, as we intended to get back to Springfield as quickly as possible, and then strike for some point on the Savannah, near which Lemon and I were retaken.

We remained in the swamp until after ten o'clock, when Wright started up and bade me follow. We then went in quest of an old negro hut, where he had before been befriended. It was within a stone's throw of the plantation house, and therefore not safely approached without a thorough reconnoissance.

Secreting me in a corner of the fence which surrounds the plantation, Wright proceeded forthwith to the hut in which he knew

slept.

OLD RICHARD

This was the name of the brave and kindhearted negro, who had supplied him with hoe-cake and bacon, just before his recapture.

Richard had to consume some time in ecstasies of delight at his opportunity of welcoming again as guest his old friend Massa Wright, whom he had succored during his previous escape, and whom he had the mortification to see pass back toward Sylvania a prisoner in the afternoon.

With all due formality, I was soon introduced to this swarthy descendant of Ham, whose heart was as

white as his skin was black, and whose warm and hearty shake of the hand convinced me, beyond a doubt, that he was an earnest friend to the Yankee, who would not hesitate to stake his life, if necessary, in an endeavor to further our wishes.

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Wright said that he had found a friend, and that I must make arrangements for the "grub." I said to Richard, "We want to leave this place to-morrow night at twelve o'clock, and would like to take four days' rations with us. Can you let us have some bacon and sweet potatoes to put with our corn-bread?" Pooty hard case, Massa; but dis yer darkey 'll do de best he can. Can't get nuffin on dis 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 de Souf de slave takes what de white folks frows away; and I reckon you all couldn't eat a tainted ham dat old massa gib me t'other day; but if you can, God knows dis chile gibs it to you wid all his heart."

I gave him to understand that we should be greatly obliged for the described ham; as we had become so entirely oblivious to the sense of taste that we did. not stop to question the quality of anything which could be eaten by man.

LODGED IN A PINE-TREE TOP.

Having settled the question of rations, we next addressed ourselves to the question of lodgings, and desired Richard to take us to some safe spot, where no Rebel would ever think of coming. Leading the

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