All went well until we came half across the river . . .

 Autobiography and reminiscences by John W. Carroll.  

While in Middle Tennessee I met with my old time friend and neighbor, J. N. Galbraith, who had been released from a northern prison, having suffered much and lost the use of one eye.  I had sufficiently recovered from the wound to travel with the aid of a stick.  We decided to try our luck in crossing the Tennessee river and trying to see home-folks again.  We succeeded in evading the federals, arriving at home and spent a brief time very happily.  In a couple of days it was discovered that we were at home and reported to the authorities who gave us a hot chase and came near capturing both of us.  On arriving at the Tennessee river on our return to protection, we found no means of crossing, but we turned into a deep gulch covered with a thick underbrush and tied our horses, disrobing ourselves of clothing except a couple of undergarments, and procuring a couple of logs, making them fast together with grape vines, we pushed into the river and used our best exertions to make the opposite shore before some federal gunboat should overhaul our frail craft and take us to prison.  All went well until we came half across the river; the grape vines came untied; the logs rolled apart and we were into the river.  Both of us being good swimmers we went on pretty well.  On nearing the bank I asked my friend how he was doing; he answered pretty well, only one leg was cramped and sticking straight down.  However, we went ashore, rested a little, held a council of war and decided to move on to a farm house which we did.  Placing ourselves behind a fence with our heads just over the top rail, we called. A lady came to the call.  Making known to her our situation she soon found us friends.  With a skiff we soon succeeded in crossing our horses and getting on the remainder of our clothing which we very much needed.  That night we spent under the friendly boughs of a spreading oak.