MySource:Rharrison/The Long Road Home: A True Story From One Family's Oral Tradition

The Long Road Home A True Story From One Family's Oral Tradition

retold by Maurine M. Harrison

One fall day in the year 1863 seventeen year old Judson Davidson of Oak Grove Farm in Appomattox County, Virginia, left his family and went off to war.

He fought in many battles as a Confederate soldier in the War Between the States. He saw battles won and battles lost. He saw many die on both sides for opposing causes they each believed in strongly.

On one occasion, his regiment, starved and hungry, captured supplies from Yankee soldiers. In a letter home, the young man wrote, "They were very well fixed. Had everything nice such as preserves, apple butter, sugar, and everything you can think of. We had a very good time after fighting so long." The letter is signed, "I remain your living son. J. C. Davidson."

On April 1, 1865, Jud was badly wounded at the battle of Five Forks just days before the war ended.

As he lay helpless in the middle of the road, a body of Federal cavalrymen was about to ride over him with their horses and wagons in their hast to cut off General Lee in his retreat westward from Petersburg. A Yankee officer seeing him, ordered the men to halt their horses.

"Remove the boy from the road," he ordered two of his men, "and prop him up against that tree beside the road." Just before the horses galloped away, young Jud called out, "What's your name sir?"

The officer in blue replied, "Never mind my name, Johnny Reb. Just the same someday for a Yank in trouble."

After the Yankee cavalry moved on, Jud lay wounded and helpless by the side of the road for two days before finally being taken prisoner by Yankee soldiers.

In a Federal hospital his wounds were washed with a dirty sponge that had been used to wash gangrene wounds of other soldiers. Jud's leg soon became infected with gangrene, too.

The leg became so infected that a Yankee surgeon ordered the leg cut off to save Jud's life. Young Jud picked up a sturdy stick by his cot and threatened vehemently to thrash the first man who tried to lay a hand to him. The surgeon finally gave up, replying, "Oh, let the Rebel die if that's what he wants."

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But Jud did not die. The war ended in Jud's home county of Appomattox on April 9, 1865. But Jud was a long way from Appomattox. He was not discharged from the Federal prison hospital at Fort Monroe until July 4. Jud was nineteen years old.

Still suffering from his wounds, especially his bad leg, Jud began his long journey home which was easily 170 miles or more in a country still torn apart by the war. He traveled mostly by foot which was slow, painful, and difficult. Sometimes he was able to catch freight cars.

On one part of the trip he met up with a fellow soldier who had lost his eyesight in the war. The blind man had good legs and Jud had good eyes. They worked together as a team, Jud leaning on the blind man for support and strength, and the blind man going where Jud led. They managed to cover over 40 miles.

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Because of the intense summer heat, they traveled in the cool of night and rested during the day under the sheltering shade of trees. Food was scarce and they had to beg for food. Sometimes people took pity on them and shared what little they could spare.

Together they made their way to Farmville, Va. some 55 miles from Jud's home and family. There they had to board separate trains. They each had to travel alone now in different directions.

Even though his leg was getting worse, thoughts of Jud's family gave him strength. His train finally, arrived at Spout Spring, the nearest rail station to Jud's home.

Someone recognized him there and loaned him an old blind horse, the last one on their farm. The other horses had been taken in Hunter's raid by the Yankees.

A young freed slave boy held Jud on the horse and guided the pitiful pair over the 6 miles of country roads on the last stretch of Jud's long journey home. He had no trousers and wore only the long, dirty, ragged shirt from the prison hospital.

The war had been over for several months. Jud's family was sure he was dead since he had not returned home. The threesome, the old blind horse, the freed slave boy, and the ragged, scruffy young man barely able to stay atop the horse, could be seen in the distance from the hilltop of Oak Grove Farm. Jud's family couldn't believe what they were seeing at first.

Finally someone called out, "It's Jud! Jud's come home!" His father, who did not see Jud's gangrene wounds at first, rushed to greet him and embraced him so tightly it made Jud wince in pain.

When Jud's father saw the condition of his leg wound, Dr. G. W. Thornhill was called in at once. The doctor was a family cousin, and a former surgeon in the defeated Confederate Army. It was his opinion that the leg must be amputated at once.

Young Jud begged so hard that his leg be saved that Dr. Thornhill, called Cousin George by the family, came up with an idea. He asked if there were any spirits of any kind in the house. He was told the only thing they had was some peach brandy.

Cousin George looked Jud square in the eye, "Now I've got to go down to the lower part of the county for three days. I want someone to sit with you day and night while I'm gone and drip peach brandy, one drop at a time, into that wound. If it's better when I return, we may be able to save your leg. If not, well. . . it must come off."

Cousin George rigged up a special apparatus, a bucket hung from a hook in the ceiling, that dripped the brandy through a tiny hole in the bottom, one drop at a time, continuously, into the ugly, open wound. Jud was determined this would work.

After three days, Cousin George, returned. He went straight to Jud's bedside to look at the wound. "Son," he said smiling, "You've saved your leg!"

Jud recovered fully without even the slightest limp. He became a minister in the Baptist church, married, raised two daughters and a son. After a long and successful life, he died at the age of 68 on April 21 1914.