The Maine bugle ... campaign; 1-5 Jan. 1894-Oct. 1898 - Maine.gov

322 THE MAINE BUGLE.
the cars that evening to go somewhere to be exchanged. That
was what they always told us when they wanted to move us.
He said the sergeants could draw lots to see whose squad should
go first if they wished. Well, we got the second or third
chance and when our turn came marched across the river and
went aboard the cars. I had noticed that a train went up
towards Andersonville at about four o'clock every morning and
I was perfectly sure in my own mind that was where we were
going. I was just beginning to have the scurvy and I was well
satisfied that if I went back to Andersonville to spend the winter
I should die there. I did not mean to go. Well, they drove us
into those freight cars, one hundred in a car, as though we were
sheep or swine, and packed us as closely. Then the guards were
posted around us and we had the night before us, " packed like
sardines in a box." The guards built some fires so they could
see the doors of our movable prison and made themselves ready
for the night. Our door was about half-way open. We had a
garrulous old fellow named Joe Hammer, who had amused
himself by telling the rebels stories about that mythical country
called the North—stories that rivaled the Arabian Nights for
marvelousness—and they wanted him to come out of the car
and tell them some more stories. Joe went out and soon the
two rebels set to guard our door were listening to him with
mouths wide open utterly oblivious to everything on earth
except the wonderful stor}'. I came to the door of the car and
took in the situation and determined then and there to try to
escape. Bidding one of our family a hasty good by I dropped
down on to the ground and scrambled along under the edge of
the car, past the tender and locomotive, then dodged behind the
corner of the depot or freight house and I was clear from the rebels.
Recollect, this was at night, the train would not start until
morning and the engineer and firemen were not on the engines.
Another thing favored me : it was dark as Egypt and a cold
drizzling rain was falling.
It didn't cost the Southern Confederacy anything to guard or
feed me any more after that night, the twenty-fourth of Decem-