I know but little of the circumstances which led up to the banishment or expulsion of Clement L. Vallandigham from the Federal lines, except what I heard from his own lips the day he was ushered into the Confederate lines near old Fosterville, the advance picket post of the Confederates.

I was a private in Company H, 51^st Alabama Cavalry, Colonel James D. Webb commanding. One bright morning in May, I think it was, Colonel Webb sent for and ordered me to go to the outpost and escort a flag of truce between the lines, and to put on my best "bib-and-tucker". I changed my wool hat for a new, homemade gray jeans cap, or bonnet, which my wife had made, and proceeded, having a very indefinite idea as to the purpose of my mission.

Arriving at the outpost I soon saw a wagon coming down the pike, two men being seated therein and driving like Jehu. When they pulled up under a large oak on the side of the pike, I advanced and told the two officers, a colonel and a lieutenant, that I had been ordered to protect their flag between the lines. One of them replied: "All right, come on!" Turning their wagon they started back, and their trotter kept ny horse in almost a full gallop to keep up. Coming in view of their outpost the colonel asked me to remain there until his return. You may imagine what I thought. I was protecting his flag, which he bore away, leaving me without one, and I asked myself "Who is protecting me?" Of course I had no arms and didn’t know the fellow who was posted a hundred yards ahead of me. In less than half an hour I saw the flag returning over the ridge, and the wagon had an additional passenger.

Returning at the same breakneck speed, we halted under the oak, and the third man was told to alight. As he stood up in the wagon he said: "In the presence of this gentleman I protest against being forcibly taken from my state and my family." The colonel (I think his name was Gibbons or McGibbons) said that they were simply obeying orders and that he must get out. He did so, and I advanced and helped him lift his trunk out. As the colonel turned, the prisoner handed him some letters which he requested should be mailed to his family, and again protested against his forcible ejectment from his country. Approaching, I gave him my hand, telling him who I was. Having sent him my paper while he was in Congress, he at once remembered my name, and with some surprise asked what I was doing there. I told him that I was playing soldier, and was trying to keep Rosecrans and his men from running over us. With surprise he asked what position I held, and being told I was a high private in the front rank, he asked if many of my sort were in the army. I told him that nearly all of us were there. He then said: "They can never whip you." I told him I did not think they could, but that it was possible they might overpower us.

He then gave me a brief account of his arrest, condemnation, and expulsion from home. The day before he had asked Gen. Rosecrans for the freedom of his camp, but was denied, and intimated that if he could have addressed the troops, he believed that a large number would have mutinied; that many of them were opposed to the war, and would not fire a shot at us if they could help it.

I helped him with his trunk into a cabin on the side of the pike, and left him to report to Colonel Webb, with whom I rode back to where I had left my protégé. Having no instructions as to how I should act, I was in an embarrassing position, and determined to "wait for something to turn up." Mr. Vallandigham was also a little embarrassed, but in a moment, addressing Colonel Webb, he said: "I am Clement L. Vallandigham, a citizen of Ohio, in the United States, and for my political opinions have been arrested, and without a fair trial for any offense, have been forcibly driven from my state and family, and am seeking an asylum in the Confederate States of America." Colonel Webb replied, very coldly at first: "As a citizen of Ohio, in the United States, you are my enemy, as are all of your people who have combined against my people to destroy their homes and property. But as Clement L. Vallandigham, a citizen of Ohio, driven from his home and seeking asylum in my country, I give you a cordial welcome and true Southern hospitality until I learn what is the mind of my superiors in office." The two shook hands most cordially, and soon I was ordered to report to Colonel Hagan, commanding our brigade.

A company from the 8^th Confederate, and my own company from the 51^st, proceeded to the front, escorting Mr. Vallandigham to headquarters. I and my horse, not having had any breakfast, were excused from the six or eight mile ride that would complete the courtesy to the distinguished "foreigner" who, when reaching our camp, was given a scattering cheer - of course without orders.

That was the last I saw of Mr. Vallandigham, but not the last I heard of him; for when he reached Richmond, a sort of "tempest in a teapot" was gotten up by the critics of Mr. Davis, who found, in the course of a few days, that he had "an elephant on his hands" and I believe arrangements were made to send him to Nova Scotia or Canada.

The end of Mr. Vallandigham was most tragic. After the war he resumed the practice of law, and in criminal case was showing the jury, with a pistol, how the man might have been accidently killed. The pistol was discharged and the ball entered his bowels, from which wound he died. Mr. Vallandigham was a man of splendid physique; about five feet ten in height; light or auburn hair; florid complexion; sharp, thin nose; and handsome features.

On the 14^th of June I was wounded and captured at Shelbyville, and spent fifteen months in prison at Camp Chase and Fort Delaware. At the latter I spent eight months, and on account of extreme illness was sent to the hospital, where Dr. Eagle of Ohio, was assistant surgeon.In conversation with him I told about Vallandigham, whom the physician knew well, and he was very much interested in the account I gave of his induction into the Confederacy. Dr. Eagle was a very clever gentlemen and treated me quite differently from the medical directors I encountered at Shelbyville and Louisville. If he is alive or has any relatives living I wish to say to them that he was a gentleman far above the average of those I encountered in Northern prisons.