An account of the escape of six federal soldiers from prison at Danville, Va.

Front matter

J LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. | ^

* UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. J

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Preface

rpHE account contained in these pages was first written in 1866. Its publication was delayed in the hope that we should learn something of our two comrades who were left behind. After revising and abridging it somewhat, it is presented to the reader in its present form. We were compelled to rely on memory in preserving for publication the incidents here narrated, as while on our trip we had neither pencil nor paper. That reliance, however, was not in vain, as the scenes through which we passed, though here poorly portrayed, are of a character not easily forgotten. They are indelibly enstamped on the memory, and it seems each year as it passes renders the recollection of them more vivid and distinct. It is not needful to state the motives which prompted this compilation. Much of the same character has been written and published, but as this differs in one essential particular, at least, from all that has yet appeared, we hope that fact will form a suflacient excuse for introducing it to the public.

Introduction

IN those "stirring times," during the late war, when powder, and ball, and the bayonet were the orders of the day, an escape from prison and a secret, hidden march through the Confederacy, was accounted an exciting, as well as a very lucky event. Even at this day, accounts of such are not stale, but possess a thrilling interest, especially to those who participated in them and to their friends. Our journey over mountain and valley, over hill and dale, and across rivers, branches, and rivulets almost innumerable, was accomplished mostly in the night time. "We had neither map nor compass to guide us. The north star alone served us in shaping our course, and very often it was concealed by ominous clouds. We took many needless steps, and made many needless and weary miles in consequence of lack of knowledge of the country and of the course we were steering. Sometimes the desolate hour of Winter's midnight found us far from the public highway, and almost inextricably involved in the brush and tangled mazes of the forest. At such times, being almost at our wit's end, we would try to advance on a "bee line" until the open country or some road was reached.

At one time, when much bewildered in the shadowy woods, in night time, we began to despair of success. We sat down to contemplate our condition and our cheerless prospect. Had an enemy been approaching us we could have well-nigh welcomed him, so he brought deliverance. At length the stillness and thick darkness of the night made our loneliness oppressive,

6 INTRODUCTION.

and we groped on. Soon we found a road, and realized that the "darkest hour is just before day."

Knoxville, East Tennessee, was the point at which we first aimed, but on nearing the line of the East Tennessee and Virginia Eailroad we learned Longstreet's forces were in Bull's Gap. "We then bore northward.

On first setting out on our trip we were extremely cautious. During the first nights and days, after starting, we talked only in whispers. We passed houses with the utmost care, as dogs were at almost every house, and their acuteness in discovering our presence was astonishing, in view of the caution we exercised. Early in our trip, one night near eleven o'clock, as we were nearing a house, a dog barked savagely at us. Instantly the front door opened, and by the light of a fire in the fire-place we saw a woman in her night clothing, watching us pass. Late one night, after midnight, we met a citizen on the road. He was on horseback, moving slowly along. He gave the road, at the same time checking his horse slightly. When he had passed by, the way he made his horse scamper was lively, to say the least. "He must be after the doctor, the way he goes," observed Trippe. "He took sick mi'ty sudden," rejoined Wood. "The sight of us at this time is enough to make him sick," put in a third. We were walking in Indian file, and had our blankets drawn loosely over our shoulders and dragging almost on the ground. Doubtless we were scary looking objects, especially as Smith had his bed-quilt hung over him. Thinking the man had possibly gone for re-enforcements with which to "gobble" us, we hurried forward.

The night of our discovery of the cavalry horses, being much wearied, and feeling we were going to be "hard pressed" for food, we climbed into a corn field to hunt for corn that might have been left on the stalks. Each of our party followed two rows across the field and two back, but not a "nubbin" could be found. Not finding a grain of corn on two dozen rows, and the corn blades being also gone, we concluded, as Taylor observed, "They gather their nubbins clean in the Confederacy." "Yes," added Wood, "they can't hold out much longer."

INTRODTTCTION. 7

Another night, at a late hour, after Taylor and Trippe had fallen by the way, when in Craig or Alleghany county, we reached a point where the road we were traveling crossed a pike. On reaching the pike we halted, and a disagreement arose among us as to the course we should take. "We quarreled, words ran high, and we seemed to have forgotten our safety depended on secrecy, as there was no lack of emphasis in what we had to say. At last Sutherland ended the dispute by saying to me, " Let 's go on." We started immediately, leaving Smith and Wood muttering. For more than an hour we steadily pursued our course, when, discovering it was nearly day, we halted in the woods, near the road side, to see if our comrades were coming up. Soon they came along the road, and one of them said, "They'd better not advance too far without support." "Yes," said Sutherland, "we are waiting for the reserves to come up." Soon after we were hid for the day.

The Union people, the hardy mountaineers of Virginia, or those of them with whom we came in contact, rendered us valuable assistance. Without their aid, indeed, and the aid of the negroes, we could hardly have escaped through the almost barren country of the enemy, especially in the inclement season. We have heard from David Hepler, James Huffman, and Mrs. Mann since the war closed. In a letter from Hepler, received not long since, he says : " I have not forgotten the time I came to you in the woods and found you all asleep."

We copy one of Huffman's letters in part. It was dated November 11, 1867: "As to information concerning your fellow-prisoner that was lost the evening you came to my house, it was not the Botetourt Guards that fired on your squad. It was the furnace company. I saw a lady, living near the furnace, who saw the men returning. They said they neither killed nor captured any of your squad. As to Paxton, he is living yet ; so are the people that had the boy hid under the bed."

Our latest information respecting Trippe is a report that he was recaptured, taken back, and shot as an example. Of Taylor, nothing has ever been heard, by us at least, and our painful conjecture is that he never reached the lines. Of our three

^ INTEODUCTION.

comrades who reached the lines, Smith and Sutherland are living in Michigan, and Wood is supposed to be a resident of the Key-stone State. Smith, of the Fourth Michigan Cavalry, was present at the capture of the Confederate President, Jefferson Davis.

A STORY OF THE WAE.

Chapter I

CAPTURE — PRISON AT RICHMOND — AT DANVILLE — SMALL-POX — HOSPITAL AND CONVA- LESCENT CAMP— WARD-MASTER AND NURSES — ESCAPE FROM THE GUARDS — TRAIN OF CARS — FOILED AT SEVEN-MILE FERRY — NARROW ESCAPE — HIDING IN CAROLINA — CROSSING DAN RIVER — SINGING AND DANCING — EATING AT MIDNIGHT — SABBATH DAY RETREAT — PROVISION EXHAUSTED — EFFORT TO PROCURE SUPPLIES — ITS FAILURE — HARD MARCHING — HUNGER AT MIDNIGHT —HIDING PLACE — WASHINGTON'S BIRTH- DAY—SLEEP.

THE writer hereof was among the prisoners captured by the enemy in the battle of Chickamauga, Georgia, September 20, 1863. Others of the regiment to which I belonged also fell into the enemy's hands. As we hacl served together through all the vicissitudes of a soldier's life in the camp, on the march, and in battle, we resolved to remain together, and stand by each other as prisoners as long as circumstances would permit. On the day after the battle, September 21st, we were placed on board the cars at Tunnel Hill, and sent under a strong guard, by a circuitous route, through Georgia and the Carolinas, to Eichmond, Virginia. We arrived in Eichmond on September 29th, eight days having been occupied in the transfer of prisoners from the battle-field. We remained in Eichmond throuQ-h the month of October, and until November 14, 1863, when we were removed to Danville, Virginia, which is south-west of Eichmond about one hundred and fifty miles, in Pittsylvania county. The transfer was by rail, and each member of our squad succeeded in getting aboard the same car. Near noon of November 15th we reached Danville, and were immediately introduced to our new quarters. Our squad was allotted a space on the second floor of Prison No. 2, a large frame building, where it remained unbroken until December 15, 1863.

A short time previous to this date the small-pox had made its appearance among the prisoners. On December 14th I was taken sick, the usual symptoms of small-pox appearing in my case; and on the 15th I was examined by the Confederate surgeon and sent to the hospital, in company with three other patients from other prisons in the vicinity.

As I here separate from the six persons with whom I had been associated since my capture, and with whom so much discomfort and inconvenience and so many privations had been borne, I here give their names. They were John Hesser and John North, of Company A, Seventy-Third Illinois Infantry Volunteers, and James Kilpatrick, of Company B; Enoch P. Brown, John Thornton, and William Ellis, of Company C. They were all of the same regiment with myself, and the three last named were of the same company. The two first named and myself were all of our squad that lived through the term of imprisonment. My term, however, did not last as long as that of the others, as the following pages will show. If my information is correct James Kilpatrick died as a prisoner under parole early in 1865, at Wilmington, North Carolina. E. P. Brown and John Thornton died at Andersonville, Georgia, in September, 1864. Brown died on the first anniversary of his capture, September 20th, and Thornton died a few days before. William Ellis died at Charleston, South Carolina, near the close of the year 1864. Hesser and North were among the last of the Andersonville prisoners that were exchanged and sent North.

On arriving at the small-pox hospital I was placed on a bunk in Ward No. 1. I kept in-doors for the space of five or six days, at the end of which time I was classed among the convalescents. On or about December 22d, three convalescents, of whom I was one, accompanied by only one guard, went into the woods on the right bank of Dan River, in quest of persimmons. We went some distance into the country, probably four miles, and secured a quantity of persimmons, which we distributed to the patients in Ward No. 1 on our return to it in the evening. While out on

ESCAPE OP SIX FEDERAL PRISONERS. 11

this ramble tlirougli the woods, guarded by only one person, I was favorably impressed with the notion of attempting an escape from the Confederates at some future time, when strength would permit. The idea was suggested to my mind by the carelessness of the guard, who more than once set his gun against trees and wandered some distance from it.

About Christmas a row of eight wall tents was put up on the hospital grounds, to be used as quarters for convalescents. I was one of eight persons assigned to tent No. 1, and, as I was a noncommissioned officer, the hospital steward placed me in charge of the sixty-four men occupying the eight tents. It is needless to recite here what the duties were that belonged to my position, but I discharged them as faithfully as I could, so as to keep out of the prison-house in Danville as long as possible.

Sometime in the month of January, 1864, the nurses in each of the three wards of the hospital escaped from the guards, and started for our lines. This necessitated another detail of nurses for the wards, and the detail was made from among the convalescents. The hospital steward did me the favor to appoint me as ward-master of Ward No. 1, giving me the privilege of selecting those who were to assist me as nurses in the ward. I selected those with whom I had become most intimately acquainted as convalescents. Lucien_B^__^rnith, of Company F, Fourth Michigan Cavalry; William Sutherland, of Company H, Sixteenth United States Infantry; Watson C. Trippe, of Company H, Fifteenth United States Infantry, and John F. Wood, of Company G, Twenty-Sixth Ohio Infantry, were the persons selected. After a short time, Robert G. Taylor, of Company G, Second Massachusetts Cavalry, was added to our force of nurses, to make the burden of labor in the ward a little lighter on us. We attended the patients in Ward No. 1 day after day, and night after night, as well as we could with the scanty supplies of medicine and food furnished by the Confederates, until the night of February 19, 1864. Very many of our fellow-prisoners came under our care while we were acting the part of nurses. Many of them died, and we saw their bodies carted away to the buryingground and deposited in their last earthly resting places.

By the 12tli of February the small-pox had begun to abate. As a consequence, the convalescent camp and Ward No. 3 were discontinued. A day or two later and Ward No. 2 was cleared of patients and its doors closed. Those who had been attending as nurses were returned to prison. Two weeks, or three at most, could hardly elapse before the hospital would be entirely broken up. In this event we should be returned to the dreary prisons in Danville, whence escape was scarcely possible. To be kept in prison many months, perhaps until death alone should bring release, was an unwelcome prospect, and we looked upon it with feelings of dread. We had friends and comrades among the prisoners, whom we disliked to leave behind us, but as our presence with them could do neither them nor us any good, we determined to improve the first opportunity of attempting an escape from the Confederates, and avoid the prison entirely.

February 19, 1864, was a cool day for lower Virginia, and we would have deferred our escape for a few nights had we not luckily and accidentally ascertained that we should be sent into prison on the morning of the 20th. Our careful, though hasty, preparations for slipping off from the guards were accordingly commenced just before dark on the evening of February 19th. Before entering upon the detailed account of our escape and subsequent trip to the Union lines, it will be requisite to describe briefly the hospital buildings and surroundings.

The hospital was situated one mile south-west of Danville, on the right bank of Dan Eiver. The river runs in a north-east course, consequently the hospital was on the south of it. There were three wards at the hospital, each capable of accommodating fifty patients. The wards were numbered one, two, and three. There were also a cook-house, a steward's office, and a dead-house. These buildings were constructed of undressed pine lumber. Ward No. 1 was located on the top of a high round hill; near its south-east corner, and almost adjoining it was the cook-house. A few steps north of the ward, and equidistant from its eastern and western extremities, stood the steward's office. At the west end of the ward was the dead-house. About one hundred yards south-west of the dead-house Ward No. 2 was situ-

ESCAPE OF SIX FEDERAL PEISONERS. 13

"ated, on the hill-side. At the foot of the hill, nearly one hundred yards south-west of Ward No. 2, stood Ward No. 3. Directly east of Ward No. 2, and south of Ward No. 1, was the row of tents which had been used by convalescents. Still further east, at the foot of the hill, was a considerable branch, coursing its way northward to Dan River. Just across the branch, on its right bank, was a large wall tent, in and near which all the clothes washing for the hospital was done. The persons detailed to do the washing slept in the tent. The Confederate surgeon in charge of the hospital had his quarters in Tent No, 1 of the row of tents formerly occupied by convalescents. His tent was nearest the cook-house and Ward No. 1. The tent we occupied, when not on duty in the ward, stood just south of the surgeon's tent, and so near it that the ropes supporting it interlocked or crossed those which supported the surgeon's tent. In Ward No. 1 was the receptacle or place of deposit for all clothing that had been washed. Quite a lot of clothing, belonging in part to patients in the different wards, but mainly to the unfortunate ones who had died, was stored away for the use and benefit of those who might be insufficiently clothed. Wards No. 1 and 3 had been whitewashed, but Ward No. 2, which had been put up between them, at a subsequent date, was not.

Near Ward No. 3, at the base of the hill, was a spring of water, from which the hospital was supplied. Between the wards and other hospital buildings, and all about over the hill-sides, stood tall and straight pines. To the north of the hospital, about three-quarters of a mile distant, was Dan River, with its swift, noisy waters, hedged in by steep, rugged banks. To the south-east and south were cleared lands, traversed Vy a branch and its tributaries. Still farther south were heavy woods, with one point of timber projecting some distance northward, into the cleared land toward the hospital.

During the afternoon of February 19th, AVilliam Sutherland and myself were wheeling wood on a wheelbarrow from Ward No. 3 to Ward No. 1. Having to wheel it up hill it was a wearisome task, and we occasionally stopped for rest. Near four o'clock in the evening, while resting about half-way up the hill-side, Sutherland said to me, "It looks to me very much as if this hospital would be broken up soon." I agreed with him in his opinion, and remarked that our lease of time at the hospital was growing short. After a little further conversation, we resolved to consult with the other nurses on the propriety of attempting an escape, and get them to set out with us for our lines on the next night.

In less than an hour's time we had finished our task of wheeling wood, and were resting on our bunks in the tent. Before either of us had met with our comrades. Smith, who was off duty that evening, came to us and informed us he had something to tell us that we would not like to hear. We told him to acquaint us with his news, however unwelcome it might be. We readily conjectured what it was that so interested Smith, and our conjecture proved correct. He had overheard some of the guards in their talking, and had learned that it was the purpose of the Confederates to send us to prison in the morning. This news did not surprise us, and we were heartily pleased to learn the intentions of the Confederates, although they were not of an amicable nature. We resolved to prevent, if possible, the carrying of these intentions into effect. Smith was then told of the resolution we had formed an hour before to set out on the next night for the Union lines. The sun had already disappeared behind the hills. We knew our fate if we remained at the hospital until its light should again break forth in the east. Our purpose to attempt at least, even if we did not succeed, to leave the hospital, the sick, the Confederate guards, and the Danville prisons that night was immediately and firmly fixed.

Our preparations were at once commenced. We were obliged to exercise the utmost caution in all our movements, as a few of the guards were standing about over the hospital grounds; some of them were in the cook-house. We wished by no word, or look, or act of ours, to lead them to suspect our purpose of eluding them and striking for liberty.

Smith left Sutherland and rae in the tent and joined Trippe, Taylor, and Wood, who were on duty in the ward. Smith soon found an opportunity of conferring with his associates, and telling them of the meditated escape. Taylor and Wood were anxious to join it, but Trippe, who had but recently recovered from the small-pox, was distrustful of his strength; and as he had once before escaped, and got some fifty miles away, only to be recaptured and brought back, he did not so readily sanction the project. The nurses who were on duty in the ward now, assisted by Smith, gave their excl^ive attention to the sick ; they were even more attentive than usual. No one would have suspected from their conduct that they would ever forsake the sick ones under their care.

Just before dark Sutherland suggested the propriety of determining on a place of rendezvous for our party after the guards were passed, as it was certain we could not all pass out at once without being seen. I stepped outside the tent, and walked leisurely up hill, and stood near the south end of the cook-house. Directly south of me, about a mile distant, was a prominent point of timber, projecting northward from the main body toward the hospital. This point of timber seemed suitable for the purposes of a rendezvous, and on returning to the tent I directed Sutherland's attention to it. He concurred with me as to the fitness of the place for a rendezvous, and went to the ward to call the attention of Smith, Trippe, Taylor, and Wood to it. As it was important that our party should fix in the mind the place of rendezvous before it was too dark to see, those who were engaged in the ward came out, one at a time, and glanced across at the point of timber. By so doing misunderstanding and delay, at the critical moment, would be prevented. While Trippe was out taking a look he noticed two or three guards approaching him. He walked on down hill in the direction of the wash-house, as if going after clean bed-clothes or other clothing for patients.

Near eight o'clock, P. M., Sutherland sought an interview with the cook, but found the Rebels had not yet left the cook-house for their own quarters; so he quietly withdrew from the room. The cook — who of course was one of our own men — followed him to the door and asked if any thing was wanted. As the Eebels were within hearing, Sutherland answered, "There is a man in the ward who would like to have a little soup, but I guess he can get along without it. If he must have some," continued Sutherland, "I will come back and let you know."

"All right," answered the cook.

Soon after the guards went to their quarters, which were situated near the guard line, but little more than a quarter of a mile distant, south-west of the cook-l^use. The cook was again sought by Sutherland, and this time he was found alone, and just ready to retire for the night. Sutherland lost no time in making his business known to him. Six haversacks, the best that could be found in the deposit for clean clothing, were delivered to the cook, who agreed to fill them with the best provision the cook-house at the time afforded. Sutherland then busied himself in selecting clothing for our party from the deposit of clothing that had been washed and stored away. When he had selected the number of garments required he carried them down to our tent. He and I then took oflf the clothing we had long worn, and put on entirely clean suits. "We then went to the ward and relieved our four associates, who immediately went down to our tent and put on clean suits also. The six haversacks, which were filled with the best provisions the cook could provide, were brought to the tent from the cook-house.

Near eleven o'clock, P. M., our arrangements for leaving were about complete, or as nearly so as was possible with the means at command. Taylor, Sutherland, and Wood, each had an overcoat and blanket; Smith had an overcoat and a large bed-quilt. Trippe and I each had a blanket; we had no overcoats, but we wore an extra shirt and blouse apiece. For our feet we provided the best shoes that could be found about the hospital, and took pains to secure long and strong strings for them. During our attendance in the ward, patients about dying, or nean-death, had in several instances presented the nurses with their overcoats. These overcoats had been sold by the nurses to the guards for Confederate scrip. In this way we had obtained near two hundred dollars in scrip to carry with us on our journey. Taylor had a watch which was in time-keeping order. He also had a canteen. Smith had a half-moon tin bucket, which held about three quarts. The only knives we had were made of sheet-iron.

We had watched in the ward, and perfected our arrangements for leaving by turns, until near midnight. A little after eleven o'clock we waked up two or three of the stoutest patients in the ward, and told them our departure was near at hand, and that they must watch in the ward for us, and keep the lights burning until morning. We then bid them good-by, cast a last glance over the sick, and closed the door of the ward behind us for the last time. We repaired immediately to our tent and completed our final preparations for the trip.

As our tent was near that of the Rebel surgeon we were obliged to carry on our conversation in a low tone. We put our blankets in a convenient shape for carrying, and made every thing ready for starting. It was settled, in the first place, that we should slip out from the hospital grounds two at a time. Which two should go first was the next question that came up for decision. Six small sticks were prepared, and we drew cuts. These sticks were of three different lengths, and the two who held the short ones were to pass out first. The two who held the sticks next shortest were to follow in a given time, and the two holding the longest sticks, in due time, were to bring up the rear. When the drawing was over Sutherland and I held the short sticks.

As time was precious we placed our haversacks and blankets under our arms and stepped outside the tent. We stood a moment at the tent door, listening for the voices or footsteps of the guards. No sound fell upon our ears save that of the wind blowing through the tops of the tall pine-trees. On starting we went to the top of the hill and stopped at the south-east corner of the cook-house, where we again listened intently, but heard nothing. The moon, which had been shining at intervals since night-fall, had become partially obscured by floating vapor clouds. We kept our haversacks and blankets under our arms in such a shape as to imitate closely a bundle of clothing. We then walked slowly down the hill toward the wash-house. We followed the path leading to the wash-house until we reached the branch.

Instead of crossing the branch on the foot-log we turned to our right and went directly up stream, stepping sometimes on the ice and breaking it. We kept close to the bluff, and stooped slightly, so that it screened us from the west. To our left, on the east of the branch, was a flat or bottom, covered with pine shrubs and other bushes, which hid us from view in that direction. Unless the sentinel on duty had happened to be near the branch while we were passing, we could scarcely have done otherwise than escape unseen. At length we had proceeded, with much caution, a sufficient distance in the direction of our appointed rendezvous to feel light-hearted and secure. We pushed forward rapidly, crossed two rail-fences and gained the shelter of the woods, where we were to await the coming of Smith and Taylor, who had held the sticks of medium length at the drawing a few moments before. Sutherland and I laid our haversacks and blankets aside, and quietly, though anxiously, awaited their approach.

While waiting, after the anxiety and excitement of the moment had somewhat subsided, we found the weather quite cold. Our whiskers became stiff and whitened with frost, and the winds penetrated our clothing. The moon shone out brightly. The sky was without a cloud. Those which had partially covered it, only a few moments before, had cleared entirely away. Our patience was severely tried, as our comrades, so anxiously expected, had not joined us. On getting quite cold in the breezes of the wintery midnight, we danced about on our feet, and extended our arms to quicken the circulation of the blood, and get ourselves warm. In this manner we passed some two or three minutes, when we stood still to listen for the coming of Smith and Taylor. We listened anxiously, but the sound of their welcome footsteps did not greet our ears. "Can it be that they have been caught?" we asked ourselves.