The prospect of an exchange served to defer our attempted escape, but at last we resolved to wait no longer. The very day we came to this conclusion, an order was given to send twelve to Knoxville for trial--a mere formal one as the commander of the guard and the marshal told us--to clearly prove that we were an authorized military expedition, and not mere citizen adventurers. George D. Wilson was in the yard when the order came. He was permitted to be down there, because he was very sick. The officer of the guard handed him the order, asking him to select twelve to go, as no names were mentioned. He did so, selecting all his own regiment (Second Ohio) first, and afterward his special friends from the other regiments, because he thought it would be a favor to them--that they would probably be first exchanged. This unexpected order induced us to abandon our cherished scheme of escape, which, in all probability, judging from the result of a subsequent attempt, under far more unfavorable circumstances, would have been completely successful.
As we twelve, who were to go to Knoxville, prepared for our departure, we felt a shade of gloom fall over our spirits. Our little band, who had for nearly two months been companions in dangers and privations, such as few men ever experienced, was now to be divided, and we knew not where we should unite again; for in spite of their fair words, the _fact_ remained that we were in the power of that enemy who has deluged our land in blood.
With Andrews, the parting was peculiarly affecting; we had been accustomed to look up to him in all emergencies. He was our leader, and was the particular mark for the vengeance of the foe. Officers, in bidding us hope, spoke no words of comfort to him. He bore this like a hero, as he was, and continued to hope against hope. But _now_, after we had sung our songs together for the last time, and come to bid him farewell, we were moved even to tears. I will never forget his last words, as he silently pressed our hands, and with a tear in his blue eye, and a low, sweet voice, that thrilled through my inmost being, said: "Boys, if I never see you here again, try to meet me on the other side of Jordan." It _was_ our last earthly meeting.