Читать книгу Capture and Escape - John Azor Kellogg - Страница 11

Table of Contents

I found myself traveling toward Richmond in quite different company and under less favorable auspices than I had ever imagined would be my lot. After running about an hour we at length found the Provost guard of the Confederate army, and to my chagrin about twelve hundred of my companions in misfortune. Some, like myself, were wounded. Some expressed impatience and mortification. Others evidently accepted their condition as inevitable and determined to make the best of it, expressing more concern for the success of our arms than solicitude for themselves.

At a little distance from the prison corral were the badly wounded, awaiting the ministrations of a surgeon. There, under a large tree, on a blanket, lay the gallant Captain Converse, a prisoner, wounded and dying; by his side, with one leg already amputated, Corporal Frank Hare, with cocked revolver, kept at bay a couple of the enemy's surgeons who were desirous of experimenting upon the yet breathing body of his leader. The heroism of those two men was sublime. The Captain had been shot through the body and both thighs. It was utterly impossible for him to recover. He knew that his moments were numbered, and the end was nigh. He only asked to be permitted to die in peace, but the surgeons were desirous of experimenting upon him by what is known as the "hip amputation."

Converse had overheard their conversation, and directed Hare to put his hand in a certain pocket and get his revolver, which had been overlooked when his captors took his side-arms, and, armed with this, to prevent them from torturing him. Hare did as his officer directed; and when they attempted to remove his Captain he cocked the revolver, and in quiet, yet firm tones, warned them that he would shoot the first man that laid a hand on him. Weapons were pointed at him, with threats to kill him if he did not surrender the pistol. Hare only laughed at them, asking them what they supposed he cared for life, with one leg gone?

Struck with admiration for his bravery, the guard was withdrawn. A Confederate officer, standing near, filled with admiration of his heroism, said, "I would like a regiment of such men!"

This aroused the dying Captain, who, his eyes flashing with patriotic fire, told him that he had the honor to lead a hundred just such men, and added: "The North is full of them. Sooner or later we shall triumph, and your rebel rag will be trampled beneath their feet."

With these brave, prophetic words he breathed out his young life, a willing sacrifice upon the altar of his country. At the instant he expired the sun broke through a rift in the battle cloud, and glancing down through the shimmering foliage of the forest tree, illumined the face of the dead. I thought it the pathway of the angel that bore aloft the released spirit of my comrade and friend.

I have seen men in the mad excitement of a charge perform reckless deeds of bravery, facing death with apparent nonchalance, and admired them for their soldierly bearing and courage; but this was something different. It will be difficult to find an instance in either ancient or modern history, of greater fidelity, love, confidence, courage, and fearless patriotism than was displayed by these two wounded heroes. High up on the list of those made deathless by heroic deeds, should be inscribed the names of Captain Rollin P. Converse and Corporal Frank Hare.

Before I witnessed the death of Converse, I had felt despondent, but now the sight of his calm courage determined me to bear my own lot with philosophy. As a matter of fact, I was no worse off than thousands of others, and vastly better off than many. Even then, I began to plan some way for escape.

A short time only was allowed us to rest and recuperate. All able to march at all were soon en route for Orange Court House, under the escort of a strong guard. There were several hundred of us. Among others I recollect Colonel Grover, a gallant officer of the Seventh Indiana. Although the distance could not have been more than eight or ten miles, perhaps less, it was about 10 o'clock before we arrived at our destination for the night. During the march in the darkness several of the prisoners made their escape, but I believe that all these were eventually recaptured.

No rations had been issued to us, and many were ready to faint from hunger and fatigue, but the "bitter cud" of our disappointment was all we then had to chew. So far, we had been in the hands of soldiers, and our treatment had been as good as we had any reason to expect. But upon our arrival at Orange Court House we were turned over to a squint-eyed, knock-kneed Provost-Marshal and his home guard, and with the change of guard came a most decided change in our treatment.

Cowards are always tyrants, and this redheaded commander of the home guard was no exception to the rule. The enlisted men were separated from the officers and driven into a dirty back yard, where they bivouacked quite comfortably, for they had their rubber and woolen blankets and could on ordinary occasions sleep as well without shelter. But they were aroused at an early hour in the morning, and under the directions of the squint-eyed Provost Marshal systematically robbed of their blankets, both rubber and woolen, also their knapsacks. One poor fellow, indignant at such robbery, tore his blanket into strips. This act being observed by the delectable specimen of Confederate chivalry, he sprang upon him with a club and knocked him down, striking him several blows while he lay on the ground, senseless and bleeding. Some of our officers remonstrated against such plain violation of civilized warfare, and were coolly told they had better keep their sympathy to themselves, as they would probably need it all for home consumption.

On inquiry we learned that no rations could be obtained, but were kindly permitted to purchase from a sutler a corn-dodger and cup of coffee each, for which we paid two dollars apiece, in greenbacks. Soon after breakfast, we were formed in column for marching, and started for Gordonsville.

If some of us had been with our commands, instead of being prisoners, we probably would not have thought we could endure the march in the hot sun. My head was badly swollen and pained me greatly; this, together with the heat, insufficient food, and depression of spirits consequent upon the situation, almost unmanned me. Keep up with the column I could not. Finally, two or three of us cripples were permitted to fall behind under the guard of one man, and never in my life did I feel the need of money so badly, for if we could have raised only fifty dollars in greenbacks we had reason to believe our guard's cupidity would have easily overcome his sense of duty. But alas! The money was not to be commanded; so, a few rods at a time, we continued our march.

Just as it was getting dark we reached Gordonsville. Although the distance traversed was comparatively short, yet I venture to say the day's march will be remembered by that little squad of cripples longer than many another of double the distance. One of the things that discouraged us was the reports concerning the battle of the day before, received from Confederate sources. We were informed that our forces were in full retreat to Washington, that our loss was about one-half our effective force, and the like.

Immediately upon our arrival at Gordonsville we were corralled in a railroad excavation and closely guarded. The next morning we were loaded upon freight cars, and to our surprise found that Lynchburg, not Richmond, was our destination.

Upon this slight foundation we immediately began to build great hopes. If we had lost the battle, what was the reason we were not shipped to Libby and Belle Isle? We had not then heard of a great man's famous expression, "I propose to fight it out on this line if it takes all summer." The celebrated flank movement that placed the army south of Richmond and bottled up the Confederate army, existed only in the prolific brain of the greatest soldier of the age.

The Army of the Potomac had so many times marched up the hill, only to march down again, that we began to look upon this performance as the regular thing. We did not realize that this army was then under the guidance of a man who knew no such word as fail; who, if whipped on one day, only fought harder the next.

Our trip to Lynchburg was relieved of its monotony by one circumstance. The bottom of one of the cars was mined, a plank was cut out, and when a halt was made to take on wood and water, one or two adventurous fellows crawled through and dug the dirt from between two of the ties, so as to allow them room to escape collision with the bottom of the cars, lying there while the train passed over them. The ruse was successful, so far as escaping from the train was concerned; but unfortunately the fugitives were discovered as soon as the train passed by, and recaptured. The attempt was a foolish one, but indicative of the general disposition to attempt any manner of escape that had the slightest chance for success.