Dr. Jona Morris was one of those Army Surgeons, who went where duty called him, whether it was dangerous or not. If a boy was wounded, he was by his side, however thick the balls flew. So, the REGISTER scribe alighted on him for a "narrow escape."

"About as bad a fix as ever I got into" said he, "was at Cloyd Mountain; but the matter possesses no details that are personally thrilling. It was just such a place where the shooting was terrible, and I can’t see how I escaped the balls. You will remember our first line was drawn back at Cloyd Mountain and for a moment or two the prospect was decidedly dark. When the first line fell back, I had got out there to attend to the wounded of which there were many, when the brigade on the right came up and poured in a cross fire on the very ground where I was. That was all there was of it, an exceedingly heavy fire which I proceeded to get out of as rapidly as possible. But you are after personal incidents, where the escapes were peculiar to the individual. The one that comes to my mind now was the event at Guyandotte where I did make a pretty narrow escape.

Col. Whaley was forming a regiment at Guyandotte in the fall of 1861. He had got together about 120 men, and I was there as the surgeon of the new regiment. On the night of the 9th of November, just as I had returned from church, about 9 o’clock on Sunday night, I heard some firing at the edge of town, up the Guyandotte river; and thinking it was some careless or foolish firing by our pickets, I started up that way to stop it. I had got a little beyond the bridge, and immediately after shots were fired, some of the balls coming uncomfortably close to me. Of course, the town was in an uproar immediately and everything in confusion; so I started back to get to my hotel as soon as possible.

The fact was, Col. Clarkson and about 1500 rebel troops had seized the town. They were all mounted and upon us before we knew it. Beyond the town, a short distance, they had divided, one-half coming down on the west side of Guyan river and the other half taking in the east side of the town. Well, by the time I had got to the hotel, it was surrounded and a good deal of firing had been going on. In fact, several persons had been killed and wounded. The night was dark and it was hard to tell friend from foe, so I thought the thing to do was to get into the hotel and skip to my room.

So I started in at the front door. In front was troop of reb. Cavalry banging away at somebody all the time. I entered at the front door, and started up stairs, somewhat in a hurry, for I didn’t know how soon a ball would come searching for me. Just as I was getting toward the top of the steps, some one fired a shot through the hall, which was a signal for the rebs. outside to open up, and then came a tremendous volley into that hall. Just then was about as scaly a little time as I experienced during the war. I was nearly at the top of the steps when the volley came, and I jumped forward to the landing above and into a room, without knowing whether I was killed or wounded or only badly scared. One thing I knew, however, and that was, I was pretty mad, and having a little "pop" with me I ran to the window to fire that into the street, when some man in the room, exclaimed, "for God’s sake, don’t fire out that window, we will be riddled to pieces in a moment." At this, I got back from the window, when a moment or so after, a new sensation arose. A man called from the street "come out of the hotel, every one of you or we will burn it to the ground." I knew that meant business, so I went out into the hall and proceeded to feel my way down the stairway. At the bottom of the steps I stumbled over a dead man, in a side room, I heard the groaning of wounded men. It was a very ghastly moment for me, as I didn’t know how soon my time would come. But I boldly stepped out the front door into the presence of the rebs. and immediately plead, "don’t fire the building, don’t shoot in there. There are wounded men who need assistance, and I want a light so as to dress their wounds."

This speech had some effect, and some of them entered the hotel, striking lights, to hunt up the wounded. The dead man whom I had stumbled over proved to be a citizen of Guyandotte, by the name of Huddleson. In a side room we found a reb. Soldier, shot in the side. I dressed his wounds and others, and then was made a prisoner myself. They tied my arms behind me, guarded me closely till morning, and then marched me off with about sixty others, among whom was Col. Whaley, who escaped a day or two after. They took us to Libby where I remained four and a half months. I fell under the immediate charge of Capt. Henry Clay Plate, for several days after my capture, and would have fared pretty badly, if it hadn’t been for Gen. Jenkins.

One thing I may safely claim credit for and that is saving Col. Zeigler at Ceredo. He was there forming a regiment, and it was part of the plan to capture his rising force. They asked me particularly about him, how many men he had and especially if he had artillery. I told him he had 2500 men and four cannon, and so they concluded not to attack him. It is allowed in war, you know, to deceive the enemy.