you see Miss Daisy or Doctor Isaac, give them my love and blessing. If they aren’t otherwise occupied, they might wish to travel to Aunt May’s also.
Your obedient son,
Henry F.
Not much else happened in Tallahassee. There was one dogfight, which didn’t last very long. The blueticks got the best of it. We kept them on the dray after that until we got out of town. Also, Henry turned eighteen in Tallahassee. He was a man grown in body and mind if not in years. After getting a few supplies, we moved on. Even with buying supplies we still had the money we took from those Federal soldiers at the fort.
A couple of hours east of Tallahassee we were challenged by three CSA soldiers without horses. Leveling their guns at us, they commanded us to halt. Actually, their guns were leveled at Henry and me. We were on horseback. Ella Mae, Mary, and Coon were on the dray.
Henry said, “We have a pass from General Bragg.”
A sergeant replied, “Never mind a pass, boy. Get down. We need horses for artillery wagons. We’re taking the mule and dray too. Get down now.”
Things didn’t look real good. No one had ever challenged the pass and I couldn’t see those three being associated with any artillery unit. Anyway, artillery isn’t moved on wagons. Real artillery soldiers would have said it different. They would have said something about caissons, guns, rifles, or mortars. Or they would have named their unit or the brand of their field piece.
During the past weeks I had come to sense when Henry was about to do something. I got the feeling then. To distract their attention from him, I moved my reins to my right hand, raised my left hand, and said, “It’s a good pass, Sergeant. General Bragg gave it to us.”
I thought that raising my left hand and speaking would distract them from Henry. Also, taking the reins in my right hand put it close to the butt of Doctor Isaac’s dueling pistol.
Moving at the same time I spoke, Henry started to dismount by swinging his right leg back and over his horse. The move looked like he was just following orders, but it also placed his horse between him and the soldiers. As he was settling to the ground, and was shielded from view by the horse, Henry drew his pistol and shot over the top of his horse. His first bullet hit the sergeant in the chest and his second bullet took one of the privates out.
When Henry’s movement distracted them from me, I pulled the dueling pistol and shot the other private in the chest. At the same instant Coon shot him with his squirrel rifle. The sound of Henry’s second shot, my shot, and Coon’s shot were so near the same time that it was a couple of seconds before I realized they had also shot. I was wondering why both privates fell until I saw the smoke from Coon and Henry’s guns.
Henry said, “Something’s not right here but we’re not going to stay around to find out what. Coon, get their weapons and get the dray moving. Ben, help me drag them out of the road.”
After putting their weapons on the dray, Coon left.
Looping a rope around their legs and over our saddle horns, Henry and I dragged them two hundred yards into the woods. Once shielded from the road by the vegetation around a small pond, we also went through their pockets and packs. Though carrying no papers of any kind, they had three dollars in silver and eight dollars in Confederate paper money, which we took. After putting pine straw over them, Henry used a pine bough to brush out the trail we left while dragging them into the woods.
As I reflected on the situation, I began to think those old boys wanted the horses for riding and also wanted Ella Mae and Mary. But then we’ll never know for sure.
An hour before dark Henry stopped us and said, “You all go ahead. I’m going to stay here until dark and see that no one is following us. If there are people following, I’m going to give them cause to chase me for awhile. Ben, give me your horse. Two horses will make a better trail if I have to lead them off. I can also switch back and forth to a fresh horse and keep them from catching me. Don’t use a fire when you camp tonight.”
I offered to do it but I knew, and Henry knew, he could do it better. Neither of us said that though.
We waited until full dark to camp that night. Unable to find us in the dark, Henry slept a half-mile from us. He found us a few minutes after first light the next morning. Going without breakfast, other than some cold biscuits and syrup, we pulled out right away. Henry checked our back trail several times that morning but didn’t find any pursuit.
Thirty miles out of Tallahassee at noon that day, we crossed the Aucilla River. We were still sixty miles from home. At that point Henry again spoke about covering our back trail.
“Ben, I’m going to take your horse, enough food for a couple of days, and my bed roll and wait on the other side of the river. You don’t have to worry about anybody following you. I’ll not join you until after it rains enough to wipe out any sign you make from the river to home. When you break camp, don’t leave any trash or other sign of the camp; and after having a fire, put the coals in a bucket until you find water, then throw them in the water. You’ll just disappear on this side of the Aucilla.”
Ella Mae hugged him. Seeing her ma do it, Mary hugged him too. We didn’t shake hands. Henry, Coon, and I were beyond that.
The trip was uneventful from there on. Due to a broken wheel, however, it took us four days to make the sixty miles home.
December 21, 1861
We came into view of the house just before dark. Ma and Lilly recognized the mule at a distance, and me after we got close. They said later that I looked two inches taller and ten pounds heavier. It sure made me walk around straight. They came out toward us, walking at first, then Lilly was almost running. As hard as she looked, Henry still wasn’t there.
I tried to put both of them at ease by saying, “Henry’s safe and on the way. There was something he had to do for us. He’ll be on in time.”
Lilly took a few steps in the direction from which we had come, so I said, “Lilly, it might be an hour, a day, or a week before he gets here but he’s safe and well. I’ll tell you all about it.”
At that point Ma realized she had ignored my companions. She then did and said all the things that are done when folks come.
Knowing Ma would be put at ease, I said, “Ma, Coon helped with the things we had to do at Pensacola. This is his family. They’re traveling with us and will need to stay awhile.”
Ma let it go at that until after supper when Coon and I told the whole story. We didn’t tell about the three CSA soldiers in front of John and Ivy, my smaller brother and sister. Small children sometimes repeat things without thought. Ella Mae had already told Mary to be careful while talking about those kinds of things. Although Mary was only turning twelve the next day, somehow I almost didn’t look at her as a child anymore.
After I finished the story, Ma asked Ella Mae, “How’s your husband going to find you after the war?”
Ella Mae said, “I left a couple of notes, and told some folks in Blountstown where I would be. I also posted a letter from Tallahassee, though I don’t know if it’ll reach him.”
That satisfied Ma, but I was pretty sure Ella Mae hadn’t spoken to anyone
