The place of _rendezvous_ was on Bullrun creek, fifteen miles north, and its time midnight, April 18. The party was to number three hundred and seventy-five men; but the authorities at Knoxville having got wind of the matter, placed a strong guard around the town which prevented seventy-five of this number from their purpose. I was fortunately one of the few citizens who intended to join the party and were outside of the town before nightfall when the guard was stationed. A carriage ride with my wife early in the evening, as though only for recreation, gave me the opportunity without suspicion, to pass into the country; and leaving her at the house of a friend five miles from town to return home the next day, I went on foot to the house of the well-known Unionist, Andrew Knott, Esq., and remained there until nearly dark. By that time six others had come to bear me company. Two of these were the son and son-in-law of Squire Knott, who united with his family to bestow their best wishes on the little band at its departure. Accessions to it were almost constantly received, as we cautiously proceeded on our way to the _rendezvous_. We avoided the intervening houses of rebels by going through the fields. But happily this precaution was seldom necessary, for from almost every house we passed, one at least was added to our number, and many were the words of encouragement given and bitter tears shed by mothers, sisters and wives, as those they held dear stepped noiselessly forth from their homes and joined the marching column. Before reaching the appointed place of meeting, our number had increased to seventy-five, and there we found seventy-five men awaiting us. Every one had a haversack of provisions; all were without blankets and extra clothing and only one-third of the company had succeeded in arming themselves for defence with guns or pistols. One half of the whole party did not arrive at the time agreed upon.