John S. Gililland, the subject of this sketch, has been a highly respected citizen of Decatur, Wise County, Texas since 1874. he was born in the state of Missouri at a place called Old Bailey's Landing ¹ on the Mississippi River, on January 31, 1845. His father ² came to Collin County, Texas, in 1853, locating west of the town of McKinney near the Dallas and Preston Road.

John S. entered the Confederate Army at the age of sixteen, enlisting with Company D, 6th Texas Cavalry, afterwards Ross' Regiment, which was the first volunteer organization to leave Collin County at the beginning of the war. Later on he was exempted from service on account of his youth but returned to Collin County and rejoined Throckmorton's Company, which participated in campaigns in Arkansas and Louisiana. Mr. Gililland first saw service in Arkansas and Missouri. He was with the 6th Texas Cavalry when, in combination with other troops, it stood guard over the Missouri Legislature, in session at Neosha, while the acts of secession were being passed.

The regiment next fought 5000 Pin Indians and whipped them. the battle of Elk Horn - called in history Pea Ridge- followed in which the 6th Texas fought as part of General Ben McCulloch's Brigade, General Price's Army, in which General McCulloch lost his life. The Texas troops were then dismounted and sent to Corinth, Mississippi, as infantry, where for a period of three months intermittent conflicts with the Yankees occured. In June 1862, Mr. Gililland returned to his home in Collin County, but soon went away again as a member of Governor Throckmorton's Company.

The regiment to which he was assigned became known as the Second Partisan Rangers, commanded in Arkansas and Louisiana by Col. Chisum, and afterward became identified as a part of General Greene's Cavalry, which was engaged in dislodging the Yankees from strongholds thay had secured at different points in Louisiana, among them being Plaquemine and Thibedeaux, which were recaptured.

The first scene in the drama of Private Gililland's extra-ordinary experiences as a captive in the hands of the Yankee power occured just within the gates of the stockade at Fort Butler, to which confinement he was brought following the event of his falling into the hands of the Federal scouts. Within the gates and numbered among the forces occupying the place was a hugh and beastly Dutchman, a belligerant son of Germany, who, for doubtless good reasons, nurtured within his breast frenzied resentments against any and all representatives of the Confederate Army, whom he hated with a great passion which stewed and boiled upon every occasion of his recalling to mind the memory the humiliating sufferings he had endured at the hands of a Texas rebel regiment.

These afflictions had been visited upon him a few months previously, during the time of his detention in the Southern ranks as a Northern prisoner. The rebel soldiers languishing for some sort of amusement had thought the Dutchman so unique a specimen of warfare and so valued a guest as to be continually doing things for his entertainment. For example, he was mounted astride sharp rails, hoisted on deck of Texas bucking ponies, and after having grown superheated in these exercises he was out of promptings of sympathy cooled off by duckings in a deep spring of frigidly cold water. Curiously enough while thinking the Texans the most actively hospitable people in the world, the big foreigner returned to his compatriot Yankees harboring the strange feelings of resentment indicated before, vowing to wreak revenge at the first opportunity.

Private Gililland presented this opportunity when he was let in at the gates of the stockade. The facts of his Texas nativity had preceeded him behind the walls, and when he came through the portals he was warmly received by the German who had stationed himself there as a member of the reception committee. But instead of extending the usual felicitations of welcome, he lunged at the private with fixed bayonet, muttering the hughest of Dutch gutteral growls as he made the onslaught. The private in deference to the perils of the situation was obligingly quick in sidestepping, but this alone would not have saved him from being impaled. That which did protect him was the dexterity of an accompanying guard who thrust forward his own gun and knocked the avenging weapon aside. Then it was that the Texan grew red in the face, the redness proceeded from the spirit of his soul which was stirred with a mighty rage. Still he could make no manual movements in defense of himself and his only recourse was in "cussing". With biting, stinging, and hissing adjectives he blistered the Dutchman from head to foot and left off only when he was dragged away from the spot by the guards. Thus, the Texan was spared the rigors of hardship which the incensed Teuton had in store for him.

On June 22, 1863, he and his companion were taken aboard a river steamboat and conveyed to New Orleans for permanent confinement. The city was then in the hands of the Yankees and was being made the great Southern base of Federal operations. It was being closely watched on every side, whether by sea, land, or lake, and no human movement went unobserved by the minion spies and guards who picketed all intervals between the several big Yankee camps about the place. Already a number of rebel captives had arrived to rot away in the filthy prisons and more would be coming soon, for the surrender of a number of Confederate strongholds up the river was hourly expected.

Private Gililland and companion with others were first quartered in the custom house, which was sufficiently large and commodious to afford freedom and comfort and ample ventilation, and notwithstanding the unsavory food regimen, they managed to exist fairly well. But in a few days the order of events was changed. Vicksburg and Port Hudson fell and soon New Orleans was overrun with Rebel prisoners. Many of them suffering from wounds and disease and should have been transferred to hospitals, but they were not to be accorded this beneficence of humanity. On the contrary they were crowded and jammed into the foul pestholes which the Federals, perforce of the situation,were requisitioning from the ancient and uninhabitable buildings that stood about in various parts of the city. One of these was the old Parish Prison, and here surrendering their superior quarters in the Custom House to captive Rebel officers, were brought privates Gililland and Helm and the body of men who had shared their better fates there.

A picture of the Parish Prison interior transferred to canvass would prove repugnant to the senses. It would be painted with dark and gruesome colors and intermingled amongst the shadows would be the damp odor and atmosphere of decay and death. Wriggling over all would be the vermin which had fattened on decade after decade of the leavings of vilest human occupation. Simmering above would be the sweltering vapors which a tropical sun had generated while beating at the height of its midsummer intensity. Into these forbidding quarters the men were now packed like sardines in a box. They were placed in cells eight by twelve feet in dimension with eight men in a cell. Side by side they lay, sweltering through long hot nights, many of them moaning and raving and dying from wounds of conflict and from miseries of prison scourge. That terrible enemy, dysentery, now fostered by vile food and wretched treatment, was exacting its toll of death and was carrying many beyond the walls through which they could not have gone in life. Food sufficient only for one meal a day was brought in and despite the deep green mold which usually dyed the bread, the entire allowance was readily consumed. A horrible stench went up from the rotting limbs and the ever present and abominable toilet vessels, and the men sickened at stomach and reeled with delirium while over their continance spread the ghostly pallor of the prison. And then, added to the mortal terrors within there came from without a fright to terrorize the mind: those dreaded diseases, yellow fever and smallpox raged in the city, and gruesome reports of these pestilences coming from an old apple woman who was allowed to frequent the prison reacted upon the enfeebled and sickened nerves of the men with depressing effect. Finally the attention of certain ctizens of the city was attracted to the situation and some efforts at alleviation of the awful sufferings of the prison were made. Good food, clothing and medicines were brought in for a while but not in sfficient quantities to negate the disastrouse effects of the sum total of rigors which now were gradually undermining and effeminizing the naturally strong resolution and patriotism of the men. Already they were beginning to surrender allegiance to the Southern flag. At crucial moments in their great afflictions, the Yankees offered liberty and service in the Federal Army in case they renounce their old faiths and loyalties. Many good and brave Southern men weakened to the temptation, so intolerable had become the life of the prison. And now the news of these desertions coming to the succoring citizens of New Orleans had the effect of stopping further charities and benefits of food and medicines. " We do not want to aid or assist any unworthy Rebel soldier", they said, and sent no more blessings. As a consequence the hardships and rigors increased. Southern prisoners began to yield the Southern flag by bands and to march forth to the sunlight of liberty with their lives dedicated to a foreign and loathed standard.

Three different times by three successive cell squads was Private Gililland abandoned, whose unyielding loyalty to the South was now the source of remark of all those who had become cognizant of the display of his heroic spirit. No threats, arguments or intimidations of any kind were potent to tempt this invulnerable young Texas private from the anchorage wherein he had placed his faith and devotion at the beginning of civil strife. Therefore he remained a suffering, beleagured and yet an obstinately patriotic hostage while about him were crumbling into submission the manhood and resolution of his former compatriots in the cause of the South.

But anon, he was broken out with a rash, Watery white blisters began to appear, scattered over his body, and the prison physicians were summoned for a diagnosis. He was pronounced a victim of smallpox and was hastened off to an execrable pest house to remain nine days in durance. For many months the private had been a daily eye witness of human suffering, loathsome diseases, incongruous surroundings, and might justly have thought to be immune from susceptibility to any unusual shock to his sensibilities at further sight of human misfortune in the shape of disease, but when he came to look upon the conditions of this pest house and to contemplate his own confinement there his senses reeled with a profound revulsion of feeling. He fell back towards the doorway with his hand thrown across his eyes to hide the awful spectacle before him. At this juncture a cruel bayonet menaced his side and he was thrust forward into the midst of the terrible leprosy of human decay that lay spread about the room. Here he remainded the full nine days and miraculous to say, came out unscathed. Not alone did his own affliction, which was but a rash developed from unhygienic conditions, fail to to evolve into a case of smallpox but he came out of the pest house uncontaminated with the disease unfortunates had lived and died within his presence.

He was returned to his old bare barracks regime of the Parish Prison. Here he resumed once again the life of this hell hole, but he was not long to continue it without noting an alarming change in his bodily health. Certain symptoms of lung trouble set up. His natually iron constitution was beginning to collapse in the face of the abuses that had been heaped upon it. He either contrived to let his condition become known to his friends in the city or else they by some means became cognizant of it. Anyhow, steps were taken to gain for him some relaxation of the prison rules in hopes that an improvement in the state of his health would ensue. Among the mediators in this latter undertaking were the noble women , the Southern Ladies Aid Society of New Orleans, among whom was a niece of President Jefferson Davis. This society had been the benefactor on the former occasion when the prison Rebels had been supplied with food and medicine, and now on learning of the alarming state of health of one whose heroism the society had had occasion to applaud, the members began active measures in Private Gililland's behalf, all of which proved successful.

The private was granted a two hours respite on alternate days of the week, the terms and conditions of which were carefully stipulated in a payroll of honor to which he subscribed. He thus went forth tri-weekly to breathe God's free air of out-of-doors, a pale and languid soldier to whom the last weeks and months had been an unutterable horror, and to whom the sunshine and fresh air of the present moment was a benediction.

Although carefully guarding the terms on which his temporary period of liberty had been secured, the private allowed hinself considerable latitude in the matter of observing and listening as he went on his excursions about the city. These were exercises which hardly any well worded document could abrogate or suppress, and which were now industriously employed by their possessor in the furtherance of desires and hopes which had long lain in his breast- which were the hopes of honorable escape.

So in going about the city he watched and listened acutely and presently he came to have a fair knowledge of his surroundings and of the outlets and inlets of the city, and he also learned where he might find a refuge in the home of a citizen during what time he might be compelled to remain secluded in the city after having managed to escape, should the fates accord him that good fortune. But if he had concocted any specific plans of honorable flight from the Parish Prison these were suddenly broken off by a removal of the body of prisoners once again to confinement to the Custom House. And if the private's parole of honor was annulled he found consolation in the fact of the superiority of the Custom House as a prison home, and also the fact that the society mentioned before and certain of the private citizens had resumed their practice of sending wholesome foods and clothing to their prisoner friends. But these helps or benefits were not to break up the meditations of his mind whose enduring tendencies were now toward freedom and liberation from imprisonment. He therefore began to contrive plans adaptable to the new situation, and ere long evolved a scheme which, if subtly executed, he thoght would bring liberty to not only himself but other of his friends.

At the time these events were occurring, the Custon House in New Orleans was centrally located and its ground floor was used as the central city post office. Being used for this purpose it naturally stood on one of the principal thoroughfares of the city and in the very midst of the thronging commerce which surged past its doors day and night. On the second floor immediately over the post office there was a large room overlooking the street which confined a large squad of Confederate prisoners. This room directly over the main entrance of the building, which itself was the point of assembly for the guards who were hourly on watch over the prisoners. So that the guard standing below on the stone pavement had very nearly an unobstructed view of the entire row of barred windows of the room in which the Confederates were confined. One object alone shut off a portion of one of the windows from the guard in his forward and backwards movements. This was a stone bastion which ran from the ground to the roof of the building as a support to the wall, and which stood out some distance forward from the main front wall. At night the street was brilliantly lighted and it seemed foolhardy for any prisoner to choose this front way as a route of escape, yet this was now the daring project which lay in the mind of the Texas prisoner. The private's own quarters were in a room which stood still to the rear of the big room in front. This he had examined and found no inducements towards getting out of it. He then searched the big room in front and found a vulnerable point he was looking for. He looked courageously on the big iron bars of the windows, then looked out at the stone bastion and saw that should he descend quickly behind it he would be shielded from the eyes of the guard in his forward movement on the pavement.

He had no tools but he had inventive genius and a case knife and soon he and a big Irish Rebel inmate of the front room were taking turns about sawing one of the bars in two. This was accomplished and a detailed plan of flight adopted. Six army blankets were tied together for a rope, and at 10 o'clock at night the blankets were to be tied to the severed bar which had been bent back from the window for that purpose. The Irishman was first to decend to the ground and from there cautiously steal away from the guard who marched to and fro not six feet away.

Such was the plan- now follows the execution. By the time the hour for going came, life on the street below had quieted and only an occasional pedestrian went by. A group of guards sat on the stone steps below laughing and talking, being hidden from the proposed landing place by the bastion. The two men and others came to the window appareled in their citizens clothes ready for flight. The Irishman got in postion and Private Gililland naturally eyed him closely. The sons of Erin are said to be a very couageous race, this one was shaking and very badly scared. A qualm of apprehension passed over the Texan but it was a different quality of fright from that which seemingly unnerved the Irishman. It was a quality of fear that apprehended the worst for the enterprise of escape. Finally, the Irishman got out of the window and, clinging to the blankets, began to descend. The Texan, with his head out of the window, watched and listened with breathless expectation. An age of suspense seemed to elapse. The guards on the steps below laughed and guffawed but sat still. Presently there came a surge in the blankets and then a sudden rebound. At the same time the dull thud of a sound came up from below, as that made by a falling body, then there was a gasp and then the exited voices of the guards as they ran forward. Poignantly vexed and disappointed, the Texan drew back, and in his heart cursed the Irishman for his cowardice, but he had not long to deal with these disconsolations. He darted into his room to change his clothing and it was well, for the guards came running in to investigate. They found the Texan blissfully ignorant of any unusual occurances.

The Irishman was gathered from the pavement by the guards and carried senseless to the hospital. His fall had been occasioned by one of the knots of the improvised rope which prized apart his nervless handss as they passed over it.

Following upon the heels of this unsuccessful attempt to escape, the third removal of the Rebel prisoners occurred. This was precipitated in part by certain stratagems which had come to be employed by synpathizing citizens of New Orleans to gain the liberation of a number of Confederate prisoners. One of the large rooms of the Custom House had been set aside as a reception room where, under observation of the guards, the meetings too place between citizens and prisoners. In this place was adopted the ruse of the citizens' coming to bring packages and baskets to the prisoners, and of leaving suits of clothing in cloth and pattern identically like those worn by citizens. Upon occasion of the secone visit of the citizens, some one of the Rebel prisoners would by previous agreement appear dressed in the suit if clothes which had been left behind, which, as has been said, was of the same texture and make as that worn by the visitor. Presently when the guard was least observant, the prisoner would pick up hat and basket and walk boldly out the door to liberty, the manner of dress of the prisoner aiding to deceive the guard.

Before the Yankees became cognizant of the scheme, a number of the prisoners had obtained their freedom, but now on hearing of it the prison authorities ordered a fourth removal, this during the latter months of their confinement in the city.

The march of the 150 men was now taken up for a building formerly used as a cotton exchange which stood in the block with the St. Charles Hotel and other buildings. A phalanx of Yankee infantry lined either side of the street and in addition to these, the body of prisoners were flanked by a detachment of armed guards, and among these latter was found to apostate Irishman who had fallen from the rope on the night of the attempted escape. Following his convelescence in the hospital, he had joined arms with the Federals and now marched as a superior and guard over his former equals and compatriots. At the sight of the turncoat, Private Gililland verbally exploded. He loosed an awful avalance of profanity such as had greeted the ears of the Dutchman who had menaced him at Fort Butler. In fact he had to be restrained, but his lingual artillery was quieted, the Irishman was trooping along most dejectedly in hang-dog fashion, and he hardly once looked in the direction of his erstwhile comrades. The route of the march lay up Carondolet Street and presently the old exchange building fronting on the street was reached. It was in this upper story room of the building marked cotton exchange that the men were penned, yea virtually penned, for the dimensions of the room were fifty feet in width by seventy-five in length. Here they were to eat, sleep and live according to the arbitraments which a relentless fate meted out to them.

The room still contained some of the fixtures which had been used in the operation of the cotton exchange, most notable of which was a sturdy brick vault built back and connecting with the north wall. The walls of the building themselves were of brick, heavy and thick and not to be penetrated without great labor by any of the inmates hopeful of escape. The windows had been either recently heavily barred or had retained those fixtures from the flourishing days of the exchange. One entrance only opened into the room; this was a doorway which penetrated the south wall and here following the incarceration of the prisoners, two armed guards stood in constant surveillance.

The Rebels were let into the room in a very dejected state of mind. It was at once apparent that something of the old evils of the Parish Prison were to be repeated, and as a consequence their spirits sank back to the lowest levels of gloom and despair. But with some the idea of escape became an obsession. This perhaps more nearly describes the state of mind of Private Gililland than of any of the rest. Having withstood every importunity that offered him freedom under disloyal and disgraceful circumstances, he had doubtless been longer in confinement than attaches to the person of any other one of his comrades, which fact, coupled with the gloomy prospect of the new phase of prison life upon which he was now entering, goaded the inventive genius of his brai to the acme of efforts to contrive a means of liberation from the room. Whereupon, he fell to examining in minutest detail the possible vulnerable points of the walls, and finding all closely compact and defying egress, he was on the point of despair when his gaze presently lighted upon the vault, its door and then upon the combination lock. Following this a wave of light and relief suffused him. Already some of the men had begun to tinker with the closed combination merely as a pastime. To them it presented a mystery and a puzzle, attempts at the solution of which afforded diversion from the monotony of their humdrum lives. But the Texan approached the matter with a different purpose. When it came his turn to "amuse" himself at the puzzle, he worked at it with desperate intent, exerting all his energies to maneuver the intricate little mechanism into such movement as would bring the hoped for result, which was the opening of the door. The lock was an old-time affair as distinguished from the modern devises of the kind was manipulated by a spring which was required to be pushed in certain definite directions and pressed upon at certain junctures when the lock would surrender its guardianship over the door. So the Texan not only watched the movements and results closely while working at the lock himself, but was equally attentive to the efforts of others, until finally he believed he had solve the mystery of the situation. Calling one or two Confederates to his side, men who had been advised of what was in his mind, he got upon his knees to test the outline which he believed would solve the mystery. Very gently he pushed the spring in certain directions and then at the appropriate junction and with equal gentleness he pushed with a firmness on the button. The result was a noise new to the situation. There came a faint click from the interior. The men passed a significant look between them but said nothing and presently left the spot.

Then in further pursuance of the plan, the mood of perhaps a majority of the men was changed from one passive dejection to noisiness and uproarious hilarity. This sudden exhaltation of the general mood was superinduced by a revelation of the details of the Texan's plan which comprehended the creation of a great racket while the details of the design were being put into execution. Following closely upon the advice of the leaders, the men organized a great dance in the middle of the floor and here to the entrancing tunes of a fiddler from the ranks they jigged and sang and shouted until one phalanx after another swooned away from exhaustion and fresh revelers took their places.

In the midst of all this joy and excitement, further details were being carried out. Blankets were being unrolled and hung as if for airing and one of these was casually draped down over the vault door and suspended there on a rope behind which a stick was placed endwise th throw the blanket forward so that the door could be swayed open behind, all unseen of the sentinels.

The joust continued; mad revelry raged. Simultaneously, industrious men were inside the vault picking a hole through the outer wall which would open up to free air of the outside world. Then instruments were made of case knives and progress in the hard brick and morter was slow, but nevertheless their patience and resolution were adamant and unswerving.

Following the opening up of a passdage through the wall which would admit a man's body, the next steps in the campaign were to select the hour of leave taking and elaborate to essential covert schemes which would make flight possible and unobserved. The time of going was set for bedtime of the second night of the men's occupancy of the room, and as a detraction of the attention of the guards, a card game was started near the vault door. The betting in Confederate money ran high and the players grew strangely excited and reckless in pursuit of the game which had the desired effect of centering the attention of the guards on the animated scene. Coincidently stretched on a pallet of blankets near the table, other men were floundering about and at short intervals some would roll casually behind the blanketed vault door and quickly disappear through the hole in the forward wall.

This mysterious escape occurred on the night of February 22, 1863 and that night thirty-five Rebel prisoners freed themselves from the imprisonment of this room. The following morning the alarm was sounded among the Yankee coharts of the city and a number of the men were rearrested and returned. When night came, the Yankees not having discovered to leak in the prison walls, the men crawled forth again and were followed by a second contingent of Rebels by the same route.It is said that the end of the war came before the Federals were apprised of the means by which the prisoners gained their freedomfrom the cotton exchange prison. Certain it is that they were not possessed of the knowledge at the time of the confinement of the men, for the prison continued to leak until the room was well nigh robbed of its inmates. It was as if the men dissolved and faded away as apparitions, leaving the guards to wonder and marvel at the miracle.

One episode happened in connection with these escapes that deserves recognition here. In searching the city for Rebels on the morning following the first night's prison delivery, a dilapidated building was entered by a body of soldiers. To make sure that no Rebels were in hiding in the building, the soldiers prodded through the cracks of space above the ceiling with upraised bayonets. One of these sharp instruments stuck into the flesh of a Rebel hiding there but the stoical Confederate never winced. He neither groand or cried and the men below none the wiser of his presence. This is one example of the heroism and endurance with which the ordinary Confederate soldier met the cruel hardships that befell their lot.

But we shall return to follow more minutely the course of the men who had come through the wall. On reaching the outer air, they found themselves standing upon a sort of roof-way covering an "alleyway". This was a sort of opening running in to admit air and light into the interior of the block. The task was to reach the ground. Gililland had been the seventh man out, and now he came tho the recue. Someone had sent him a small stout cord, nicely concealed in a pudding, and this he now fished from his pockets and tied in such fashion as to permit the men's descent by it. On the ground they stood in the alleyway itself. One mouth issued on Carondolet Street which was constantly guarded, the other came into the court in the rear of the St. Charles Hotel, which in all likelihood would be a dangerous route. There was a row of store buildings fronting the street St. Mary and abutting their rears on the alley. By going through one of these buildings onto St. Mary Street the men would be leaving the block at its exposed point. They examined one of the storerooms and found it empty, whereupon they stumbled through its inky darkness and over its disordered furniture to the front door. Here they stopped in a squad for the first time and put on their shoes, following which they issued upon the street. This sudden coming upon the street attracted the attention of a policeman standing at the intersection of Carondelet and St. Mary Streets who sent up an alarm that nearly froze the men in their places. He gave three shrill whistles and tapped loudly three times on the pavement with his stick, then set off in the direction of the men. These latter were deliberate and cool and neither ran nor comported themselves in any manner unusual, and when the policeman came up he was disarmed of any suspicion and passed by. Had he examined Private Gililland's coat he would found on the back thereof the remains of some of the plaster which had been deposited there in the flight through the hugh hole in the brick wall.

Farther up the street the men separated, going singly and in pairs, in the direction and to the destinations which each thought would afford the greatest security against recapture and reincarceration. As for Privates Gililland and Stewart, both of Texas, who had joined their fates together, they did a very daring and unaccountable thing. Upon disattaching themsleves from the main group these two presently found themselves in the neighborhood of the St. Charles Hotel and its brilliantly lighted and thronged barroom. Neither of the men had been addicted to the drink habit and it is only on the hypothesis that the men craved the immediate exercise of the actions and privileges of freeborn men that they permitted to do the reckless thing they did. What they did was to boldly enter the crowded barroom and presently at the boisterous bar to order refreshments and take them "straight". On every side of them, at the tables and at the bar were the representatives of the power from out of whose clutches they had but just slipped. One of them, better known than the rest, the sergeant of the guard who controlled them immediately as prisoners in the cotton exchange, stood at their elbows talking to another subaltern, and that which solely prevented their being recognized was the absorbing and animated topic which the two discussed. Spread about the walls of the room were great polished mirrors and these the presence of the escaping men in the room was reflected in the room a hundredfold, but, miraculous to say, the men ran the daring gauntlet successfully, got their drinks and sidled out of the room unobserved.

Once again in the darkness of the open streets they set out for the homes of citizens in which they would seek security until such time as their departure from the city could be effected. For safe guidance through the thoroughfares Private Gililland now drew on the fund of information which he had treasured up while recently going about the city under his parole of honor. One frigid moment of fright they had to endure before their destination was reached. This occured as they sloughed along in the darkness when they had come opposite the balustraded entrance of a residence which abutted immediately upon the street. At this point the ponderous form of a policeman suddenly arose from apparent sleep and stepped in their paths as if in a manner to menace them. However, that was all that occurred.. The policeman faded away again with the same phantom-like harmlessness that distinguished the actions of the former blur-coat with whom they had met. But his fading away did not carry with it the tremors of fright which his sudden presence had caused, but they were soon more composed. After a while their destination was reached but some moments of their subsequent peaceful progress were given over to careful analysis of the state of affairs, in which they wondered if their continual meetings with the policemen proceeded from possible hallucinations and disordered state of their minds, or from the fact, which they began to suspect, that New Orleans was infested with a corps of ghostly and phantom-formed policemen who faded out of existence when too close proximity was made to them.

The next morning their host of the night advised that they proceed to new shelter. This was perhaps because the home to ahich they had come had fallen under the surveillance and suspicion of the Yankees, which endangered not alone the Rebels who sought protection there but the owner of the home himself. The two took a position a block in the rear of the protector of the night and following at this distance throughout the march presently came back into the part of the city in which they would remain unto passage through the Federal lines could be effected. Imagine their surprise and astonishment when they found themselves back in the very block from which they had but escaped the previous night. Here was the cotton exchange proson and over there was the St. Charles Hotel, and here and there were other objects familiar to them. They were placed in the home a Mrs. Dr. Benedict, a woman of intensely Southern sympathies who agreed to contribute what support she could to Southern prisoners and escaped Rebels. Mrs. Benedict, as Mrs. Kidd, died in Houston a half dozen years ago. Here the men were to remain during the few days that would be required in which to arrange for their transit through Federal lines and back to ranks of the Confederacy. By this time the freedom pining spirit Gililland, the Texas private, had grown into a recklessness which only with difficulty he himself restrained. The course marked out for him while staying at Mrs. Benedict's was to carefully shield himself from the observation of the enemy, but instead of this he fell to taking adventurous excursions into the city and otherwise exposing himself to the perils of the situation. After a while, Mrs. Benedict began to upbraid him severely and it was only after administering many of these rebukes that she recalled him to conduct more in keeping with the demandss of his endangered enviorns. He was told that his actions were not only imperilling his own liberties but was subjecting her home to the liability of confiscation, which argument brought the private to a restraint of himself. In the meantime preparations were under way for the transit of a small body of Rebels from out of the city. To this body the two Texans were to be joined, and they were kept apprised of the progress of events from day to day. Banks' army had thrown an almost impenetrable bulwark around the city and to pierce this would require the most adventurous of conduct combined with the most strategical maneuvering. This was the hour when General Banks was getting ready for his great movement toward Texas and when all his forces mobilized at New Orleans were spread out in several seccessive encampments around the environs of the Southern port. Having a vast army at his command he had ordered the close and ever watchful guarding of every square foot of territory, and it was these extreme measures of precaution that ahzarded any attempt which might be made on the part of any of the hundreds of city-confined Rebels to get through into the free territories beyond. But it was for this frereddom that the many Rebels longed. They had news of the concentration of Confederate forces high up in the interior of northern Louisiana to be used to dispute the sway of Banks, and they longed for the conflict with the same yearning that they longed for the fresh air of the hills and pine forests. But between this haven and their positions in New Orleans lay many very great and apparently insuperable dificlties. Some of the men must yet break through the prison wall which hedged them in. Those that were free must yet negotiate the seried ranks of soldiers, camps, spies, and sentinels surrounding the city and scurrying cavalry farther out; then they must slough through the slime of bog and marsh and farther on they must navigate the rolling bosom of tempestuous Lake Ponchartrain in whatever flimsy craft they could find, in which stage of the journey they must keep a constant lookout for the sleuth-hound picket boats which over [lied the lake; thence once across the lake they must they must make their way over miles of rough ridge pine country and safely past the still swarming enemy who filled the woods of lower Mississippi and Louisiana. Certainly these difficulties before which many stout hearts would quail, and in the face of which only men of steely determination would tempt the journey. The friends of the particular body of Rebels to which Privates Gililland and Stewart were to be joined in the enterprise of negotiating the Federal ranks was the Southern Ladies Air Society, the noble women of which had more than one time performed, by like strategy and tact, a like accomplishment. This society in the present instance had gained the services of two intrepid and wily blockade runners through whose efforts the body of Rebels were to have their deliverance. By long usage to their perilous occupation, these men had gained a comprehensive knowledge of its hazards as well as its essential requirements, and had also learned the topography of the country to be traversed minutely and well. They had theretofore been detected in their dangerous work and were then resting under heavy bond not to again engage in such traffic as was deemed highly traitorous to the Northern power.

Finally all arrangements were perfected and the two Texans were informed of the date for the beginning of the flight, and other arrangements in connection therewith. They were told to proceed

cautiously at a certain hour to a rendevous on the outskirts of the city, there to await the coming of the remainder of the party. The hour arrived-- about 4 o'clock P.M.-- and the two left Mrs. Benedict's, going openly, but cautiously, through the city thoroughfares to the point of meeting.

In going along they deemed it essential to the parts they were acting to comport themselves in a certain fearless manner, as this would ward off suspicion and observation by the enemy. They also erected themselves to their full heights and put a daring but prudent boldness in their general attitudes. But presently they came to a scene that took some of the stiffness out of their feigned demeanors. They came by the palatial headquarters of General Banks himself and there on the plazza sat the general and a group of gaily uniformed officers and ladies who surrounded him. Sentinels walked post about the place. One of these was next to the pavement almost in the very path along which the two privates would be compelled to pass. As the two latter came immediately opposite the entrance gate, General Banks cast an eye in their direction, then slowly raised an arm and levelled a finger at the men who quaked as if a current of electricity had shot from the finger to them. General Banks made some remarks to accompany his action and the company about him broke into laughter. The peals of laughter were a relief to the situation and to the privates who passed on unapprehended. The guard looked them searchingly in the face but said nothing and presently the men fell to analyzing the general's action and concluded he was directing attention to the comical appearance of their dress which stuck awkward and bulgy from the fact of each man's having on two suits of clothes. Farther down the street the precincts of the old Parish Prison were reached but the place having nothing but hallowed memories was quickly left behind.

Still farther down, one of the most excrucating moments of fear yet experienced by the men was bumped into. This was encountered in the vicinity of a building then in use by the Yankees as a storehouse and commissary, in charge of which was a detachment of guards. As the Texans approached this place two persons, a man and a woman, were observed to be idling there in a conversation, and as the men came up, the woman glanced casually in their faces, and then to their utter stupefaction, exclaimed, "There are two of them damned prisoners." The bolt almost swerved the men out of line with their course, but they quickly took the situation and controlled themselves. They recognized in the woman the old Irish hag who had frequented to Parish Prison during the days of their confinement there, and recognized in the guard no disposition to act upon her exposure and alarm. He merely returned a grin in her direction and moved not from his place. The escaped prisoners had no explanation to make for this, but moved off in great ease and relief as a result of it. The old woman had herself apparently spoken out of sudden surprise than from impulse to expose, and the guard being Irish with herself, was in all likelihood fairly well asquainted with her vagaries of mind which lead her to giving unreliable information. Anyhow, the men passed on and without further incident reached their rendezvous, and after a short spell of waiting saw two large carriages approaching.

We may as well break the narrative at this point to present a short survey of the route of the journey with some of its anticipated perils as these were mapped out in the minds of the blockade men. The first stage included traversing the distance which lay between the point of beginning and the Bayou St. John and crossing the bridge which spanned the stream. Thence the route lay to the right down the course of the Bayou. A considerable distance down from this stream and hidden in the foliage on the bank, in a dark expanse of country between great Yankee camps, were two small yawls for the further passage down the stream. Thence up a large canal to the left across a plantation to the shores of Lake Ponchartrain. Following the arrival on the lake shores, the journey would be resumed across the thirty miles of those waters to the opposite shore, when the flight would be taked up in the woods and hills of the lower Louisiana and Mississippi with the distant Confederate ranks as the destination.

The dangers of the flight began immediately upon the party's reaching across the Bayou St. John. Here a sentinel constantly patrolled with an eye keen to trespassers. Some sort of stratagem must be worked out to get by him and across the bridge. Farther down the stream below the point where the party would transfer to the boats the second Federal camp, closely watched and guarded in all directions, must be safely gotten through. Then would come the sharp turn to the left into the drainage canal, which, within itself, presented no difficulties, but which suported on its banks, high up within the immense plantation which it drained, a danger of no inconsiderable proportions. This was a group of negro cabins which squatted on both banks of the canal so close to the water's edge as to make floating bodies on the canal sharply visible to the occupants of the quarters. In fact the two sections of the quarters sat so closely together that only the narrow channel with its one flat bridge divided them from each other. The head of the canal rested within three-quarters of a mile of the shore of Lake Ponchartrain and goods must be conveyed bodily. Once on the waters of the lake, a constant sharp lookout against the picket boats must be maintained and it must be carefully guarded that no surging masses of water may be let into the boats to capsize them.

Al these difficulties were to be met with, and one additionally thereto which was of the greatest importance. This was the bright white light of the moon shining from a full orb which brought all earthly objects into clear distinction and open view. This in itself would greatly jeapardize an adventure which for its success depended so greatly on the stealth and obscureness with which its details might be put in operation. And the flight which in its thrilling and realistic details rivals the imaginations of the most daring of romantic fictionists began.

Privates Gililland and Stewart got aboard the carriages. They had by the use of a prearranged password identified themselves to the leader of the party and had further assured themselves that they could safely and properly join the entourage. In the two vehicles they found twelve other men, all Rebels, who, with themselves, were there for conduct through the imperilled situation. In case the party was held up by Federal guards or officials, they were instructed to answer that they were destined for a French resort near the city where an oyster feast was in progress. And now the party of sixteen was wheeled rapidly towards the bridge spanning the bayou.

Reaching the bridge a halt was called. The blockade men jumped to the ground and approached the guard. A low toned conversation was held, the words of which failed to reach the ears of the men in the carriage. Then the blockaders returned and the driver was instructed to proceed across the bridge. The preliminary obstacle to the journey was successfully accomplished. Shining gold placed in the palm of the traitorous guard had been the weapon to destroy this barrier.

As the men passed through this vicinity, they closely observed every object. Down in the waters below the bridge by the brilliant light of the moon they saw anchored there a yawl and while they were momentarily unimpressed by the sight, they were presently to congratulate themselves on having discovered the boat.

The second stage of the flight ended down the right bank of the bayou where the two boats had been secreted in the undergrowth overhanging the waters. At this point the carriages were dismissed and returned to the city. The men went for the boats and to their great discomfiture found that the boats had been spirited away. After a moment's confusing speculation, the recollection of the yawl at the bridge occurred to the men and with the thought came a determination to secure same. Three of the party were dispatched to bring the boat. This in itself was a very critical adventure. Certain it was that the sentinel on the bridge had not thrown in the boat for good measure in the bargain driven in connection with the Rebels crossing the bridge, and therefore would object to the same being taken if he became apprised of the attempt. Therefore, the prize must be taken from under his very eyes, and on the trip backward and forward, the roving Yankee police must be evaded. But three sleuthful men were sent forward, and after a long interval of waiting they came softly slipping back down the stream.

Now followed the loading on of the contraband goods taken from the carriages, and presently the men got aboard themselves. The capacity of the boat was severely taxed. The combined weight of the men and the heavy supply of goods was sufficient to sink the bottom deep down, the sides left to jut but a few inched above the water. Here was an additional jeapardy which throughout the whole progress on water demanded the constant and solicious attention of the men lest the waves roll over the narrow barrier and inundate and sink the craft.

But moving carefully along the down the stream, keeping well in the shadows of the overhanging trees the party stealthily crept forward to the next danger point that imperilled their stuation. This was a second Yankee camp which lay still within the radius of the city and guarding the fortifications from that direction. The main camp lay spread out on the right bank but distributed throughout the region were the swarming watch guards of the Yankee power in such numbers as to put every access and approach to the city under closest surveillance.

One of these most vigilant sentinels now stood athwart the way of the river craft presently aapproaching. His station was on the right bank and his business was to guard the river against trespassers. The night being cool he had built a fire some distance from the bank of the river and at quite regular intervals he took a flaming brand from the fire and brought it to the river, casting its rays over the gloom and shadows below, lighting up the waters all about and casting a gruesome hue over his own person and countenance; then after searching the waters below and above, he returned for a short pause at the fire.

The party in the yawl approached to within safe distance of the scene and these maneuvers and came to a decided stop, the purpose of the halt being to review the situation and invent, if possible, an expedient for getting by the guard undetected. The time consumed in the latter's comings and goings was reckoned and the movements denoted which would aid the men in the adventure they were about to take. Finally a course was adopted and the leaders instructed the men at the oars how to proceed. Then at a given juncture, which was when the sentinel had finished a visit to the water's edge and was returning to the fiore, the entire party heaved veavily forward, each man putting a strenuous exertion on his oar and the entire party guiding and pushing the craft on to its destination, which was a bend in the river beyond the post of the sentinel. All went well for a short time and then what seemed an impending calamity supervened. At a crucial moment when they were still in open view and yet within a few spans of the river's turn, the guard unexpectedly returned to the bank. He cast his rays over the water and the men stood out so plainly in the glare that they writhed with the expectation of hearing the alarm go up from the sentinel to the camp. But a very slight fortuitous circumstance, such as sometimes intervenes in human affairs to work great change, saved them. This was the turning of the gaze of the guard first up the river instead of down, in which the boat shot around the bend and out of view. But as the end most man disappeared from sight he saw the guard turn an look in his direction. But in the dim light of the far reaching torch the guard failed to discern the boat as it faded in the encircling darkness. Felicitating themselves on having escaped the vigilance and consequent arousing of the Yankee camp, the men surged on with all proper speed towards the point of departure from the bayou, which was the big drainage ditch which turned in from the big plantation, across which they were compelled to go to reach Lake Ponchartrain. Here they soon arrived and presently were going up the waters of the ditch towards the lake.

They could have assured themselves uninterrupted progress to the ditch's head had there been any way to conjure those sprawling negro quarters off the route. As it was, this pest hole of vice lay there with its legs stretched out in true tarantula fashion and the men must go straight through its heart to reach their destination. As they approached the spot they saw the flashing lights and heard the music of revelry and from their knowledge of the situation they knew that a negro dance was in progress. Probably this fact, by diverting the attention of the denizens, would enable the refugees to get by unseen; probably it would not, all remained to developements.

On they rowed into the midst of the quarters. They saw plainly into the building in which the criminal joust was in progress. Drunken Yankee soldiers were participating, wildly flinging the negroes about and careening in all kinds of excited and avondoned conduct.

By this time the party was at the low flat bridge which effected transit from one side of the quarters to the other. Here they encountered an unexpected and almost insuperable obstacle. The waters of the channel were swolen and bulged up so near the surface of the bridge that the men saw that the yawl and all on board could not get through and it would be a difficult matter to get the boat itself through. But at this task they began to work manfully. The bright rays of the moon beat down upon them bringing them into fullest relief and at any moment the house of revellers might empty itself upon them and bring their expedition to a disastrous close. They pushed and worked and tugged and finnally got the boat three-quarters through the space, then the men negotiated the bridge on their stomachs. But just when success was immediately ahead they were dcried by a prowling fice whichnset up an earsplitting bombardment of treble howling. The men crouched down and waited breathlessly, hoping their stillness would pacify the canine. But nothing availed. Then from the side of the bank opposite the dog came a rain of billets of wood, rocks, and sticks. They swirled dangerously near the heads of the men who lay directly in the path of the assailed and the assailers. Two buck negroes standing some distance off the left bank mistook themselves for the objects of the dog's attack and began to pelt the fice with rocks and sticks. The dog answered with screaming howls and ran towards the dance quaters. Then more participants added themselves to the scene. They were probably the owners of the dog for they advanced gradually towards the bridge threatening and abusing the assailers of the dog in true African style. The assailers also drew towards the approach of the bridge, and the badly scared voyagers expected the next moment to be in the center of a maelstrom of African combat. But their apprhensions were not to be realized. Just at the lurid moment when the storm showed every evidence of breaking, the clouds parted and sailed off in fragments. Exhausting themselves of their stores of flaming abuse the black would-be combatants desisted their attack and faded away leaving the landscape to grow peaceful again.

The men being now stimulated to get by so critical a position heaved with turgid strength to get the yawl forward on its journey. In this they were successful and sometime afterwards came to the point where they must leave the canal and convey the craft bodily overland to the shores of Lake Ponchartrain. At about 10 o'clock of the night they came to a hugh body of briny water and stood looking out upon its shining expanse where the next stage and scene of their contest must take place.

The point to which they came was a dark stretch of coast lying midway between two lighthouses which were about five miles apart. here the frail craft with its heavy burden was again set in the water preparatory to the voyage. The whole night would be consumed in the journey on the lake and early in the afternoon the men hoped to disembark under the shelters of the forests of the opposite shore, there to await the most opportune moment for beginning their overland journey to the Confederate lines. Some of the objects aimed at in their calculations would be missed but to hint at them would be anticipating the narrative.

Looking upon the briny expanse from the point where the party of Rebels stood, a group of twinkling lights could be seen standing out a distance of three or four miles. These lights indicated the postion of one of the largeFederal picket boats standing at rest at its accustomed anchorage. Compared to the size of their own craft this was the monster which disputed the preliminary stages of the adventure that lay before the men. Quite well did they know that to get into the freer waters beyond, the yawl must be successfully steered past the looming lake sentinel of the enemy. The far reaching rays from the two lighthouses beat only feebly about the immediate precinct of the picket boat, but any object falling within either of the rays of light would be sihouetted to the observation of the guards on the boat and thus become exposed to overhauling and capture. The blockade runners well understood the daanger and adopted a strategical movement to obviate running into it. Their purpose was to steer straight from the shore to the boat, keeping well aloof from the light rays and comtnuing their progress until the yawl had been brought into the comparative darkness which lay for a few yards this side of the boat. Here they wouild pause and at a time when the sentinels were off watch they would shoot through the rays to the left and gain the darker regions beyond the boat.

With these plans in view and after carefully muffling the oars, they pushed away from shore. In a short while the smaller craft stood off in the darkness a hundred yards or so from the larger and watched operations. In the moonlight the rowers plainly beheld the sentinel marching to and fro on the deck of the towering hulk above them. By drawing up a little closer they observed that the forward march of the sentinel would throw the stern of the ship between them and the eyes of the guard and permit a short interval in which to execute their further tactics unobserved. Softly and with great caution they approached nearer the boat and then from the leaders the oarsmen put a mighty effort in their strokes and the yawl darted through the light ray to the left.

But at the instant when the men stood out in the full glare of the ray from the lighthouse a most disastrous thing happened. Under vigerous action in the water an oar became unmuffled and the naked paddle awoke the silent spaces of the sea with a loud crashing splash. In the twinkling of an eye the reigning quietness of the scene was transferred into a din of noises and alarms. A rifle shot could not have come quicker than did the splashing of the oar to the ear of the sentinel. He lifted his voice and shouted "Blockaders afloat"! Instantly a din of bells rattled through the ship's length and a host of men clambered on deck. Short pauses followed and masses of smoke began to pour from the funnels. Then when all was vibration and activity on the big monster, she slowly swept around, her smokestack emitting steady grunts and puff. Back off into the lake she ran a piece, then slowly circle in a wide sweep to the left, following the direction in which the little yawl was now desperately making its way. This was a movement which to all appearances was contrived to bring the intrudeing craft, whatever that might be, within the line of light so that its character and form might be shown up.

After the yawl had shot across the ray of light she was already out of vision of the larger boat. Fortunately she had not been seen while standing in the glamor that focused on the picket. Now once beyone the danger line the men ignored the splashing oar and steered desperately on a straight course. Their relief was great to see the large boat sweeping outward to the left and an abounding hope thrilled them with the chances of escape.

But at this juncture they were beset with a new difficulty. A stiff breeze sprang up to dance the little craft about in lively fashion and to infilade the bottom with flying spray and larger waves. The experienced blockade men arose to the emergency by hauling from the contraband store a bale of domestic which was adjusted as a sail, the ends being secured to two upright oars. The propelling power now being increased the little boat shot across the water at a merry clip and would have continued out of harm's way had not her unchangeable course brought her within danger of collision with the looming sleuth hound which all unconsciously was now bearing steadily down upon her path. The men's feelings were now terrific. They had but to go straight forward and that meant to go down beneath the waves in violent collision with the big hulk ahead. At all odds every man heaved his last oozing drop of energy, and just as the lumbering picket was on the point of crossing her path, she shot ahead of her and gained the other side. There she rolled and pitched and nearly capsized on the rumbling waves which the larger boat, now under full headway, had disturbed as she went by. Again, and most miraculously, she escaped the observation of the picket sentinels, flying gleefully away from the spot to leave the pursuer to fade away in the distance in a vain search. By this time the sea had become tumultuous and the men exhausted, and the journey for the night abandoned. The sail was so arranged as to drift the boat back to shore and she landed at a point ten miles below her starting place in a region infested with bogs and marshes in which the men encountered great difficulties in dragging the boat to a place of safety at which to spend the remainder of the night. As a means of securing safety, guards were stationed above and below camp, one in the direction of the city and the other towards the shore of the lake.

The following morning arrangements were made to partake of the one meal brought along on the expedition. A fire was started and warming up of the food was in progress when a guard approached and ordered the extinguishment of the fire, saying that the smoke issuing above the trees would probably lead to detection. The men returned to the cold and clammy food in silence, but so great was their hunger that they ate very greedily and voraciously.

About the middle of the forenoon the cityward guard returned and reported a men dressed in Yankee uniform and bearing a gun to be approaching the camp in that direction. The news threw the men into a fit of excitement. A hasty consultation was held and a policy of dealing with the intruder was adopted. He was to be captured bodily and detained under guard at camp. The men would barter no chances against recapture and the further liberties hoped for would be made their own despite all odds. the stranger walked all unawares into the trap set for him. He proved to be not a Federal spy as was suspected, but on the contrary a cunning visaged old French hunter who lived on the borders of the marsh and supported his family by fishing and trapping. Yet there was something sly and unstable about the cut of his eyes, and as a measure of precaution the man was detained. Also he demonatrated a familiarity with the two blockade men which made his presence dangerous not alone to their present enterprise but to their future liberties and perhaps their lives. Because of these facts it was deemed highly expedient to restrain the old hunter's actions until further and more secure disposition could be made of him. What this precautionary measure should be was the problem that agitated the minds of the contraband men throughout the remainder of the time spent in the camp.

Following this episode, and as if to keep the forenoon vibrating with alarm, the lake guard reported a fully loaded boat of Yankee soldiers to be rowing towards the camp on the waters of the lake. Here was some additional news to make the men flinch in their situation. Private Gililland, true to his adventurous nature, ran forward to the water's edge to watch maneuvers. Concealing himself behind a pile of logs he watched through the cracks the coming of the boat. Gradually it drew up to a point opposite him and stopped. He was near enough to see everything that occured and to note the manner and dress of the Yankees. All seemed to be a superior rank of officials since they were appareld in the dress and wore the insignia of officers, and, what seemed strange to the private, each man wore a clean, new pair of white cotton gloves. While lying there he speculated on the nature and probable destination of the craft. He imagined the officers to be bent on some sort of official or social visit to some point in the neighborhood of the lake shore, and he accounted for the close searchings which the men were making of the vicinity to have occured from the fact of the probable general alarm which had been spread following the incident of the previous night. That the Federals were plainly in search of something was displayed by the minuteness with which, at this moment, they were examining the dark wet streak which was left on the logs and debris by the dripping boat as it was pulled across the night before. By following the wet streak the Federals would have been led straight into the camp of the Rebels, and Private Gililland quaked at the mere thought of such a possibility. But after some moments of consultation, the men in the boat rowed away, leaving the private to assume that the officers had thought the marks to be the trail of some water animal leaving the lake, and consequently unworthy of further notice.

By the approach of 4 o'clock in the afternnon the wind had lulled and the water grown calmm whereupon the men decided to resume the journey.

But first a very ticklish proceeding must be gone through with. The men were apprehensive to leave the old hunter to roam freely in the woods and probably report them to the Northern forces. The blockade men were especially possessed by doubts and fears and were in a mood to do a desperate thing to forever close the old hunter's mouth against exposure. This desperate thing was decided upon by a general council held just before the start was made. The verdict, however, had existed in the minds of the jeoparded men since the hour of the capture of the old Frenchman. He was to be dispatched; a silencing knife was to be drawn across his throat. For this act an executioner was selected.

The council broke up and the old hunter was apprised of his doom. Instantly the scene became one of heart moving pathos. The old man fell on his knees and begged for mercy. He implored in the name of his family whose only support was he. His lips quivered and the hot tears poured out over his parched and wrinkled face. He said he was an unoffensive hunter and intended harm for no one. He grovelled at the feet of the men in the most moving of appeals and naught but stone statues could withstand being affected with sympathy and pity. Already the men had begun to look away and to hide their tears of commiseration. But nothing was to move them from their awful purpose. The situation demanded the relentless and speedy accomplishment of the act of decapitation. The executioner approached the old man, who was ordered to pray, and then to stretch his neck. With distorted face and blinding tears he obeyed and the knife was extended towards him. But then with swift movements tragedy gave place to tragedy of another kind. With dramatic sweeps one of the blockade men steeped beside the Frenchman. At the same instant he disengaged his pistol and in heroic tones dared any person to harm the old man. he was immediately joined by the second blockade man who made like affirmation. The executioner fell back in alarm, all the men fell away from the scene leaving the protectors and the protected in the foreground.

And now followed a scene as pitiful as the former had been tragic and pathetic. The old Frenchman grasped the coat sleeves of his defenders and rained tears on his hands. Amidst mumbled and inarticulate words he swayed and gestured in the most wild and raving fashion. Finally the two blockaders took coin from their pockets and after mahnanimously filling the old man's palm, bade him depart. Exeunt the aged hunter. He disappeared behind the trees still swaying his body and mumbling countless blessings on his saviors.

Then the most serisive scene occurred. Sly grins and winks passed between all the party, each member of which fell to chuckling and laughing. They were too badly affected to laugh boisterously but they smiled in unison at the complete success of their ruse. For assuredly the entire occurrence had been a ruse. All the details had been perfected and executed with on object in view, which was of winning the gratitude of the old Frenchman in the behalf of the blockade men. certainly the hunter would not go forth now and expose the men who had valiantly saved his life, and thus the object which animated the sanguinary threatenings was gained. After this spectacular incident the journey across the lake was again untertaken.

The sea was still choppy and only the most constant wathfulness and exertion kept the overburdened yawl from oblivion beneath the waters. So ponderous was the load on it that the boat sank to a depth which admitted but a few inches of the side to project above the water, and so close was this to the surface that rolling waves came into the boat in discouraging volume keeping the men constantly employed in bailing the water out with their hats and other improvised vessels. The men jammed together in compactness made walls of their thighs which in a measure raised an obstruction against the inpouring flood, but this did not prevent the occasional entire drenching of the boat.

The men grew tired and drowsy as well as thirsty at their constant labors. Fresh water was needed as a refreshment but was out of reach in this lake of liquid salt. Private Gililland tried to drink the water depite its nature but at each attempt it lofged in his throat, then came speedily back. After a while his drowiness got the better of him and he began to nod and sway at his post for which he was hotly uobraided by the blockade men who saw that his swaying movements were imperilling the safety of the boat, so delicate was the equilibrium.

These are some of the dangers and vexations which the little party encountered on Lake Ponchartrain and are indicative of the great hazards which invested the adventure from beginning to end, in addition to which there were ever imminent prospects of coming upon some craft of the lake guard which would either send them to the bottom or haul them aboard as captives. So throughout the whole journey there was this troublesome prospect of the mind added to the purely physical difficulties to make the hardship all the harder and the sufferings keener and greater. But as all things come to an end, so did this tempestuous trip, still not without one other serious scare which the party bumped into quite unexpectedly as they were nearing the opposite shore. The trip had consumed all the night and the hour was now well toward daylight. A mist had arisen to enshroud the moon's rays and to render objects invisible at slight distances. Through this condition of the elements the men drew slowly and coutiously toward a landing point on the shore, when suddnely without any kind on warning they stood up under a hugh object looming in the mist of a shadowy mountain, but about which there appeared no visible life. They had come upon a second boat standing at rest, a discovery they made rapidly and as rapidly backed off and got away. Circling back into the lake out of sight they made a rounding sweep and were soon scudding up a coast to a point below that at which they originally intend to land. The moment of their coming upon the picket was naturally filled with gripping apprehension and the men hardly breathed freely until they were safely landed on shore in a region thay erroneously believed to be uninhabited by Yankee soldiers. In this latter belief they were grievously mistaken as will further on appear, but in their wild conception of its truth they threw up their hats in jubilant huzzas, thanking God who ruled over them for their deliverance from the punishment of a great and loathed enemy. They now looked fondly to an early meeting with their beloved compatriots around the glowing campfires of the Confederacy, and the vision almost brought tears of joy to their eyes; but alas for such untimely emotion! It was a case of blissful ignorance as will be seen.

The landing had been made on the opposite shore of the lake about six miles below the town of Mandeville. Here the blockaders took the boat and goods and went on their way and the men turned in the direction of the town. They were stopped for a while by a large swollen bayou which they found difficulty in crossing, but by one of their company who had been a former river man, they were finally led out into the lake and around the river's issuing mouth and across on a sand bar.

About 10 o'clock of the forenoon they came upon the outskirts of the town. The people were sympathetic, of course, and began to ply them with milk and bread and other wholesome eatables which they had not tasted for many weeks. They felt their freedom greatly and skipped around like school children freed from the shackles of confinement and study. After a while, being still of ignorance of the war situation in the region, they proceeded into the main part of town, which, no doubt, was a surprise to the denizens there. However, they were protected and advised and were warned against the camp of Yankees numbering 10,000 men which rested only a few miles west of the town. This news was completely dumfounding to the Rebels and move them to adopt immediate measures to protect and guard themselves from detection. But even while doing this, two Yankee officers rode into town, apparently after mail, and becoming advised of the presence there of the band of Rebels, turned tail and galloped back to camp, presumably to carry the alarm.

There was now nothing for the poor, beleagured exprisoners to do but to take to the woods, and they did so in a trot. But with a view of deluding the Yankees they went directly towards the latter's camp, passing through the timbered country paralleling the road that ran by the camp. Thus, they plodded on through the rough country all afternoon and well into the night when they came to a freshly burned district where they decided to lie down and spend the night.

Private Gililland had been asleep sometime when he was aroused and warned against the approach of horsemen. He looked out through the darkness and by the aid of a burning log on the opposite side of the road he saw a large detachment of Yankee cavalry passing, and he felt assured that himself and companions were the prey for which the Yankees were searching.

Next morning quite to the astonishment of the men, they found the big road running within a few steps of their night's lodging place, and that unwittingly they had stopped near the open highway along which commonly passed the Yankee soldiery to and from the big camp above.

The forward journey was resumed and continued until 4 o'clock in the afternoon when they came upon a party of citizens of the section whop were in search of a bunch of runaway slaves, in which search the men joined upon invitation of the slave owners. The negroes were soon located in the tangled brush of a deep defile and taken out. During this adventure, Private Gililland wore a red plush cap, a gift from the ladies of New Orleans, which made a conspicuous target for the guns of the hidden negroes while the search was being prosecuted. After the negroes had been brought out of their hiding place, one of the negroe bucks told the private that severaal times he had drawn a bead on the cap with intent to fire but unexplainably had refrained from touching the trigger. The old negroe, however, took occasion to warn the private against the danger to which the highly colored cap exposed him and seemed quite solicitous that the top piece be exchanged for one less conspicuous.

The morning following this incident, the twelve men separated for the first time since leaving New Orleans. They were now about to cross the borderline into Southern Mississippi and thought themselves free enough of Federal danger to separate here and go to their respective destinations. Two men turned towards the East where at Baton Rouge they hoped to join the Southeastern Division of the Rebel Army. Ten others turned off westwardly, hoping to cross the Mississippi and join the fighting division west of the big river. Privates Gililland and Stewart continued on into Mississippi, where, in the vicinity of Osyka, they hoped to reach the home of a family named Gordon to which they had been invited by Mrs. Gordon when the lady had visited New Orleans during the time of the imprisonment of the men there. Quite casually but yet very sincerely the lady had extended the hospitality of her home to the men should fate ever bring them there to partake of it. So without further incident they came to the Gordon place and received a hearty welcome and remained a solid week in enjoyment of the bounteous fare and rest and isolation from the terrible rigors and hardships through which they had passed.

At the end of the week they left the Gordon home fully recruited in strength and confidence and turned in the direction of Western Louisiana, hoping to join their companies in time to engage in the further defense of the country against the encrouchments of General Banks. This officer with all his vast forces had already passed up the Mississippi and Red Rivers and had been met and defeated in more that one bloody engagement by the intrepid sons of the Southwest, the tidings of which battles coming to the Texans now threading their way across the country fired them with renewed zeal to re-enter the campaign.

The first obstacle before them was the crossing of the Mississippi. As Banks went up the river he destroyed all the ferries, and transit across great stream was not easy of accomplishment. The Texans had been directed to a particular point where an experienced ferryman operated a boat or two, but when they reached the place they found the boat destroyed or sunk; also the owner had been driven away from the place by bloodhounds egged on by Yankee tormentors.

But greatly to their surprise they found their former ten companions hesitating at the same place for transit across the river, and in addition to them the staff of General John A. Whorton and the general himself, who, with a train of horses and baggage, had been held up by the destruction of the ferry.

General Whorton had orders from the Confederate War Department to proceed to Texas with his staff to engage in the campaign in that state and had reached the Mississippi on his western journey. These were all waiting the building of a hugh flatboat which was being hurried to completion, on which the entire party, horses and all, would be transferred.

After a time the boat was completed. Now comes the telling of the last thrilling adventure through which our Taxas private passed in his desperate efforts to escape from the Federal prison in New Orleans to the Confederate lines in North Louisiana. The boat, being fully loaded with all its heavy burden, was pushed out into the river. There being no means of locomotion adequate of moving so heavy a craft, the boat had been so constructed as to drift down and across the river by contact with the current against its sides, and drift it began to do but discouragingly slow after it had gotten into the stream a bit. For five miles above the river ran in a straight course and any object on the water in that distance could be plainly seen. The party kept a constant lookout for Federal boats which were on constant patrol of the stream. At the same time they were making for a point on the hither bank at which to land, and so far as was in their power the men were steering the boat towards this objective. But so desperately slow were they moving that their pulses ran high with anxiety and apprehension. And just at the critical moment the expected happened. A thin veil of smoke appeared upon the horizon at the point five miles above where the river curved itself out of sight. Soon there issued one of the swift moving picket boats. A wave of despair swept over the party on the unwielding flatboat but they redoubled their efforts to accelerate the crawling pace of their awkward craft. As the picket came around the bend and straightened in the course, it seemed to the wild imaginations of the men that she actually jumped in the water. Like a tethered animal springing at its prey she reared and plunged down the river with such violence as to churn the water into a riot of rolling and flyung waves. Black masses of smoke boiled from her funnels and many men scurried about her decks clearing for action. The men on the snail motioned flatboat were now two hundred yards of the landing point; presently they would drift into the sluggish waters next to the bank and perhaps hang up there. But a half mile off the steam propelled picket was lunging at them. Shortly she unloosed a terrific roar and a shell passed over the heads of the fleeing Rebels. Then she bore down to a distance of only a quarter mile from the flat, whose desperate navigators were pushing and urging to their utmost to get to the now near bank. Big guns were now booming aboard the picket and shells whistled and cracked all about the pursued. Then into the still waters went the flatboat and the men scrambled and pushed one end upon the bank. The horses were driven off; the baggage pulled in disarray to land. Men fled to safety behind protecting trees and soon scattered in all directions in the thickly tangled undergrowth. The picket, seeing her prey escape, ceased firing and passed on down the river, knowing her powerlessness to inflict harm on land. The men did not stop to watch her movements; their sole concern was in concealing themselves from Yankee guns.

While sharing in this common excitement, Private Gililland took a side issue in adventure peculiarly his own. This happened when the flatboat had been drawn up near the bank and the men's senses all but stampeded under the powerful exigencies of the moment. Private Gililland, thinking to relieve the boat of that much of its burden, jumped into what he judged to be shallow water, hoping to swim ashore and flee into the woods. Quite contrary to his expectations, he lit in a bottomless lake, which not alone was deep but maelstromic in character. He was politely pitched end foremost several times and then dashed against the side of the boat which he grasped and clung to with a desperation born of true despair. Finally he managed to crawl aboard in time to join his companions in the wild rush for land.

The succeeding events in the narrative of Private Gililland's experiences have to do with the adventures encountered by him in his march across Louisiana to the Texas border and thence up Sabine River to the Confederate stronghold in Northern Louisiana. These will be touched upon lightly, none of them having sufficient moment to justify detailed description.

It might be said that from the moment of his getting across the Mississippi he left behind him the major dangers of recapture and all the extraordinary events which had distinguished flight of the company of men of which he was a member.

The crossing of the river was effect in Point Coupee, Louisiana. The men, although badly scattered, struck out for a common destination and came together at the home of a citizen several miles distant. But not so with Privates Gililland and Stewart, who still clung to each other. These, after collecting their wits from the confusion of the river, obtained their bearings as they thought, and started toward the place of meeting above mentioned. After many hours of stumbling through pathless marsh and tangled forest, they came upon a large body of water which they supposed to be a lake. But upon further investigation, they discerned objects which were familiar and presently had their eyes opened to the fact that they had been traveling in a wide circle and had come directly back to the point on the banks of the Mississippi from which they had started. There lay the boat partially sunken in the water and scattered about were the dishevelled effects of the precipitate flight of the party into the woods. This was a cruel disappointment to the men for already they were footsore and weary from the many hours of tramping through the bottoms, yet with new resolution they again struck out for the home of the citizen in the highlands several miles distant to which they came late in the night, and here Private Gililland found rest and treatment for his feet which were profusely bleeding.

General Whorton and his staff and the party of men who had joined him at the river spent a day of recuperation at the house. The district was in a thoroughly demoralized condition. The traditional safeguards of law and order had been broken down and the vivious elements of the black and white races turned loose to depredate on the people. Heinous crimes were being committed daily and even a comparatively capable body of Confederate troops such as General Whorton's were not totally immune from the violences which await travellers on the road. Still, General Whorton took up the march and stopped next in Washington, the capital of St. Landry Parish, where the demoralized social condition was still evident. General Whorton was very kind to Private Gililland on this stretch of marching. Seeing that the Texan was sorely afflicted with wounds and bleeding feet he repeatedly ordered his officers to dismount that the private might relieve his feet by a brief spell riding.

Anon the Sabine River was reached. Here Private Gililland left the party and turned up the river. For the first time since his escape he was left alone to contemplate all that had recently happened to him and if any regret or sadness came over his reflections, he had the beloved soil of exas neath his feet to revive his spirits.

As he plodded along he was overtaken by night and made application at a house for a night's lodging. He was courteously refused. This region too was under the wave of criminal debauchery that swept the land from outskirts to center, and this home, being unprotected by reason of the absence of the husband in war, was open to the ravishment of those who might gain entrance to it. Therefore, such requests as Private Gililland made were courteously declined. As the private passed on he heard a man whistle to his dogs. He knew this man to be a negro, who, hanging about the house, had conveyed his message to the house's mistress. He now knew that the suspiciouse negro would track him with bloodhounds, and sure enough, in a short while the hounds came yelping and snarling in his tracks. When they came up he stopped to look at them. They were murderous looking brutes and seemed to be in just the humor to rend him. A little closer they came, and then throwing full impetus of white manhood into the tones of his voice, he bade them an imperious "Begone"! and the beasts tucked tail and slunk away. The private's understanding of canine philosophy abetted him in this crisis. Doubtless a negro would have fled from the dogs and doubtless the dogs had been running negroes and were quite unprepared for the peremptory reception accorded them by the white man, hence their retreat.

The private next came opposite Mansfield, Louisiana, where he recrossed the river into that state. On the way he met Lieutenant Thomas Hogg, brother of James S. Hogg, who in after years became governor of Texas. Lieutenant Hogg advised him as to the location of the camps in that section and of the progress of the campaign. A battle had been fought the day before near Mansfield and the victory for the Confederates was decisive. At Mansfield the met Lieutenant Bob Throckmorton, brother of Governor Throckmorton, suffering from a wound. He took the lieutenant's horse and rode to Rebel lines in the vicinity of Pleasant Hill, where, after many saddening months of hardship and peril, he rejoined what remained of his once noble company. For thirty more days he helped repel General Banks up and down the river, and then after Banks had withdrawn his forces our private returned to his home in Texas on a sixty-day furlough, at the expiration of which he returned to his command and served till the close of the war.

Notes:

1. Lincoln County, Missouri. Samuel Bailey's place stood on a bluff north of the bluff road and the road leading from the Chain of Rocks Road to Cap au Gris.
2. Allen Johnson Gililland, b1822, Lincoln Cty, Mo., d1887, Pegosa Springs, Colo.
3. Illustrations were prepared many years ago by an artist named "Grimstead" in Santa Fe, NM. No further information is known as to the artist.