In and Out of Rebel Prisons Part 6

About one hundred and fifty jumped from the cars and escaped into the swamp that night, and amidst all the firing there was not one hurt that I ever heard of. After Cady and Masters jumped, the guard at the opposite door was so watchful that Hock and Eastman could not get a chance to escape.

Had I not promised to stay on board and take care of the baggage, I should have taken the gun and followed Cady and Masters, which I think would more than ever convince my reb friend that I was zealous in the performance of military duty. I could see from my position in the door, dark objects leaping from the car in front, followed by a streak of fire from the gun of one of the guards, showing that the caps had not all been replaced with pine plugs, though I was told afterwards that a number of caps had been removed. I think the safest way, however, to prevent a gun going off, is when you remove the cap, to insert a plug into the tube. We were a jolly crowd that night, that pa.s.sed through the swampy country between Charleston and Columbia, for it was fun to see our comrades getting away, and witness the frantic efforts of the guard to prevent them. Officers were shouting to their men to shoot the d--n Yankees, and the guards were doing their level best to obey orders.

But they had been deceived by the apparent submissiveness of the Yankees, and as I heard the fellow say whose gun I had fixed, "I didn't think they would do such a dog gone trick on me, when I'd used them so well." He seemed to lose confidence in all but me, and was mad all through, to think that the fellows he had treated like gentlemen should thus abuse his confidence.

We could have easily captured the whole force and taken the train if we had made an organized effort. But the great trouble was to get officers to obey orders and follow instructions; all wanted to be bosses. I would rather go into action with one regiment of enlisted men than with a whole division of brigadiers.

This fact probably accounts for the rebs always keeping the officers and enlisted men in separate prisons.

We arrived at Columbia October 6th, about 4 p. m., and were at once turned into a field of about five acres, on a sort of side hill. We had not drawn any rations during the day, and having had no opportunity to cook the raw rations we brought from Charleston, or buy anything to eat on the road, we were half starved.

There had been no preparation made for our coming, and the bakers were obliged to fire up and bake bread to feed this unexpected addition to their customers. This, of course, took time, and to men with empty stomachs the hours seemed like days. Women come to the fence that surrounded our camp, with pies, cakes, biscuits and other provisions to sell, and done a thriving business while provisions lasted; but the stock was soon sold out, and yet only a few had been fed. They only had to come to the fence with what they had to sell, and it was bought at whatever price was placed upon it.

I had just bought some bread of one of these venders, when Lieutenant H.

Lee Clark, 2d Ma.s.sachusetts H. A., came up and asked a woman the price of a pie, which she told him was five dollars; he handed her the five dollars, and was reaching through the fence for the pie, when one of the guard that had been placed in the camp, gave him a bayonet thrust in the back, without a word of warning or an order to fall back. It was a terrible thrust and made a wound three-fourths of an inch wide and one and a half inches deep, near the spine. A number of us saw it and watched for this fellow to come on guard again that night, but fortunately for him and perhaps for us, he was relieved and did not again make his appearance. If he had, we had determined to settle him quietly with a stone. An old wooden freight house formed the west boundary of our camp, and under it was stored a quant.i.ty of bacon. A number of hams were fished out by means of a hook attached to a long pole, and some even crawled under it to get their rations. Finally about dark, rations of white bread, warm from the ovens, were served and this, with the stolen bacon, made us a good hearty supper.

About this time a terrible rain storm came up, accompanied by a cold northwest wind, which caused intense suffering to those who had no shelter; and as none had any except such as could be made with blankets, nearly all were all that night exposed to one of the worst storms I ever experienced. As was my custom on going into camp, the first thing I did was to gather some boards and improvise a tent from our blankets, using some for a floor on which to place our mattress. This afforded but slight protection from such a terrible storm of wind and rain as that night swept down upon us, but over one thousand of the twelve hundred officers were dest.i.tute of even this slight protection, and many were suffering from wounds and disease. To those it was a night of terrible suffering such as few ever experienced before or since. In such a drenching rain fires were impossible, and there was nothing for them to do but tramp all night long in the wind and rain, to keep from perishing. Yet above the howling tempest and amid the drenching rain, could be heard the cheering chorus, "Tramp, Tramp, Tramp, the Boys are Marching."

Water was running down the slope in torrents, forming miniature rivers as the storm progressed, cutting deep furrows in the soft clay soil, and covering the whole camp with water and mud nearly ankle deep. Few who pa.s.sed that night of the 6th of October, 1864, in the prisoners' camp at Columbia, will ever forget it while they live.

The next day we were asked to again give our parole, in which case we would be placed in a beautiful grove about three miles out, where we would have all the facilities for cleanliness and comfort that we could desire.

We rather thought we would first see this haven of bliss, and then decide for ourselves about the bargain.

We hung our wet blankets up to dry in the sun which had come out once more to cheer us, and made ourselves as comfortable as possible during the day, not knowing where we were to go next. About four o'clock, teams were brought up to the fence along the road, and we were ordered to load on our traps and get ready to move into camp. Not having much baggage, we were soon ready and the line was formed, and we were again on the march. We had not gone more than half a mile, when we pa.s.sed the building where was manufactured the Confederate money with which to carry on this great _rebellion_.

The windows were illuminated with the bright faces of about a hundred young ladies, who were employed in this great printing house, and some of the boys failed to keep step as they cast furtive glances in the direction of the upper story windows, some even going so far as to give a salute that was made a good deal like throwing a kiss, while a few cheeky fellows, who seemed to have forgotten their manners during their long imprisonment, actually had the audacity to sing out: "Say, sis, chuck me down a roll of _Confed_. Got any new issue to spare? Give us a bundle; you can make more." But what surprised me most, the girls seemed to enjoy all this chaffing, and some of them actually attempted to get up a flirtation with the detested Yankee prisoners, waving handkerchiefs, throwing kisses, and making such remarks as: "Ain't he handsome? Oh! look at that fat fellow; ain't he a daisy," &c., keeping up a chatter loud enough for us to hear until the whole column had pa.s.sed.

After a march of three miles, we turned into a ploughed field that was bounded on three sides by what new settlers in the back woods call a slashing. There was not a tent or shelter of any kind, and this was the place that we had been told would afford us every facility for cleanliness and comfort, and for which we had been asked to give our parole.

A guard was formed around this field and we were turned in like so many mules into a corral. For fear of losing our mattress and other camp equipages, if we loaded them on the cart, we fortunately decided to lug them, not knowing how much of a tramp we had to make, and although it was a hard lug, we were well repaid for our labor when we reached the camp, for while many lost things that were invaluable to them, in that they could not be replaced, we were ready to go to housekeeping at once, when we were ordered to break ranks.

Like squatters in a new country, each man was permitted to select his location, and I at once pre-empted a dry knoll, under the shade of a pine tree, as a suitable place to squat and, dumping our household goods there, proceeded at once to improvise a shelter and skirmish around for something for supper.

Again, thanks to DOCTOR BRETS' generosity (?) our mattress, which we had tugged on our shoulders for three miles, came into play to make us a comfortable bed on the ground, and, after such a supper as we could pick up, and a good smoke, we curled up in our blankets and lay down to dream of home and sumptuous dinners. While we were thus comparatively comfortable that night, there were a thousand of our less fortunate comrades who spread their still damp blankets on the cold wet ground, and almost supperless, pa.s.sed a night of sleepless misery. The next week I spent in building a brush tent. I received permission to take an axe and go outside the camp, under guard, and cut brush and limbs to build it with. I cut six posts and planted them firmly in the ground, putting poles across to make a ridge tent, and then thatched the steep roof with pine boughs, making it water proof. It required a good deal of labor to complete the quarters, but when done it was warm and comfortable. Having completed our quarters, and got everything snug, I made up my mind that I would like to move North.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE ESCAPE--I TURN OVER MY TENT AND HOUSEHOLD EFFECTS TO COLONEL MILLER AND ADJUTANT LYMAN--CRAWLING ACROSS THE GUARD LINE--OUR ESCAPE DISCOVERED AND WE FIRED UPON--CAPTAINS GEERE AND EASTMOND RECAPTURED--TRAMP, TRAMP, TRAMP.

There was one of the guard, who had come with us from Charleston, and to whom I had sold my watch, who had become quite attached to me, and had always been ready to do me a favor, when he could. From our frequent interviews, I had been led to believe that he was strongly tinctured with unionism, and thought perhaps he could be induced to give me a chance to escape, if he could do so without danger to himself. Finding him on guard the 12th of October, at the northwest corner of our camp, which was the best place on the line to cross, I wrote a note to him, offering him fifty dollars if he would let me and some of my comrades cross his beat that night.

Wrapping a small stone in this note, I sauntered along near where he was pacing his beat, and, watching my opportunity, when none of the other guard were looking, tossed the note to him and sat down under the shade of a small tree to await the result. It would be impossible to describe with what feelings of hope, doubt, anxiety, and fear I awaited the answer to this note, as he paced his beat carefully reading it.

If he consented, I was free; but if he refused and reported me to Captain Semple for attempting to bribe him, there was no telling what would be my punishment; for attempting to bribe a sentry on duty was no slight offense. The stake for which I was playing was a great one, and the hazard was equally great. It was liberty on the one hand, and perhaps death on the other. No wonder then that the moment was an anxious one.

After carefully reading it, he walked to the farther end of his beat and wrote on the back of the note, and wrapped a stone up in it, and, on his return, when opposite where I sat, after cautiously glancing around, tossed it back to me. This act satisfied me that my secret was safe, at least; but when I read his answer, my grat.i.tude to this n.o.ble friend was greater than I could express. He wrote: "I do not want your money; but if you will come just as the moon goes down and throw a pebble at my feet I will leave my beat; but be very careful not to make any noise." With a joyful heart I hurried to my companions to tell them the good news.

That was a busy day for me. I bought some flour, sweet potatoes and meat, and commenced making biscuit, roasting sweet potatoes, and frying meat to fill our haversacks. This, with our slight conveniences for cooking, was no easy task. I made two dozen biscuits; and this, with our other provisions filled our haversacks, and together with our blankets, overcoats, etc., was about all we could carry. Having completed our preparations, I went to where Col. Miller and Lieut. H. H. Lyman had taken up their quarters, which consisted of a dry goods box with one end knocked out, and about half long enough to cover their bodies. They were both too ill to build a brush tent as I had done. I told them that I was going to take a walk the next morning, and asked them to move into my tent, and if I was brought back I would take it back, but if not, then it was theirs, together with the mattress, extra blankets, and cooking utensils.

We then lay down and took a good sleep and rest, waiting for the moon to set, which would be at three o'clock.

By that hour we had eaten our breakfast, picked up what we intended to carry, and cautiously, one by one, gathered under a tree, a few feet from the dead line, where, concealed in the shade, we could plainly see my friend pacing up and down his beat. When the moon had disappeared long enough so that it was quite dark, I tossed a pebble, which struck right at his feet, at which he said in a low tone, "all right" and walked away, and commenced talking to the other sentry.

This was our opportunity, and lying flat on the ground, we crawled across the guard line like so many snakes. There were seven of us, viz.: Captains Geere, Hock, Eastmond, Hays, and Cratty, and Lieutenant Winner and myself. Having all got across, we raised up and stole softly away. We had not gone far, however, before some one stumbled over some dry brush in the darkness, which made considerable noise and attracted the attention of one of the guard, who immediately sent a bullet in our direction and called out l.u.s.tily: "Corporal of the guard, post number fo." This was followed by other shots; but they could only shoot in the direction of the noise, and if ever seven fellows made good time, we did for about half a mile, till we gained a small patch of woods. We did not stop here long, but getting our direction, we made for another and larger woods about three miles away.

We entered these woods just as it was getting light; and making our way far into its dark recesses, made our camp for the day. We could plainly hear the reveille in the prison camp, from where we lay that morning, and would not have been surprised to have heard the dogs on our trail that day. But the dogs had been kept pretty busy for the past few days, and were perhaps busy then, following some other track. We spread down our blankets and took a nap for an hour or two, and then after eating a light breakfast, commenced perfecting our plans for the future.

We each cut a good, stout hickory staff, and then agreed upon our manner of march. Captain Geere, who had escaped once before and been recaptured, was chosen leader, and we were to march in single file, about ten paces apart, Geere first, Eastmond next, myself third, and the others behind. If the leader saw any danger, he was to raise his hand as a signal for all to drop down; and if he wanted to consult, he would stop and wait for us to come up.

The moon was full, and shone brightly nearly all night; so that when we were in the open road, these signals could be plainly seen by the man next behind, who was to raise his hand, and so pa.s.s the signal back to the rear. About ten o'clock that night we started for the road, which we had reconnoitered and found during the day. We had nearly reached the road, when we heard a dog baying as though on a trail of some kind, and also heard the voices of men shouting to him. Making quite a long detour, we again approached the road, this time where the timber was spa.r.s.e, and the greensward soft beneath our feet. Captain Geere had just reached the middle of the road, and Captain Eastmond was near the edge of the woods, when suddenly a large white dog, with a loud bay attacked Geere. I was near enough to see Geere swinging his stick in front of the dog to keep him off, and dropped flat down. I saw two armed men come up and silence the dog, but waited for no more, and stealthily glided away as fast as I could, back into the woods.

The greensward beneath my feet, the barking of the dog, and the loud talking of the men, prevented them from hearing me, and I a.s.sure you it was not long before I was out of their hearing, no matter how much noise I had made. I was all alone, and did not know in what direction I was running, I only knew I was getting away from the sound of that dog. I had run, I should judge, about a mile, when I again came to the road and crossed it. Soon getting into a swampy piece of ground, I climbed over fallen trees, plunged into mud holes, tore through brier bushes, and stumbled over stumps, and finally sat down, completely out of breath, to listen.

It was now about 11 o'clock, and there was not a sound to be heard. After listening some time I again started for the road, feeling that I must make the balance of the tramp alone. I soon found the road, and then put in some of the tallest walking I had ever done, knowing that every stride I made was a stride towards safety. I had walked about five miles, as near as I could judge, and had just come to the open country again, when from the fence beside the road just behind me, I heard my name spoken; and knowing that no one but my comrades would know my name, I at once halted and answered. It proved to be Captain Hock and Adjutant Winner, who had heard me coming and waited for me.

We pushed on rapidly, knowing that our safety depended on the distance we placed between ourselves and Columbia that night, and at daylight went into camp in a piece of woods about fifteen miles from Columbia. I did not take any blanket with me; but had a good overcoat, which we spread on the ground, and covering ourselves with the blankets of Hock and Winner, slept soundly until about ten o'clock, when we awoke and took our breakfast of two biscuits each, and spent the balance of the day in chatting, smoking, snoozing, etc. About half past nine that evening (the 14th) we started on again, proceeding cautiously in single file, but we did not make more than twelve miles that night, on account of being obliged to make a long detour two or three times, to flank some wagons that had camped beside the road, on their way to market at Columbia.

People going to market there are frequently eight or ten days on the road, camping like gypsies, wherever night overtakes them. They would build a fire beside the road, and cook their supper, picket their horses, and go to sleep in their covered wagons.

In these detours, we sometimes came across a few sweet potatoes, or some corn in the field, which we would gather to roast for our breakfast. In fact, after the third day, our biscuits were all gone, and we had nothing to eat except what we could thus find along the road. On the third night out, my legs began to pain me, and the next morning they were quite swollen and inflamed. This was Sunday, and we camped in a pine grove, near a clear brook; and after breakfast I took a good bath in the cold water, and felt quite refreshed after it. That night, just after we started, we found a guide board, and mounting Captain Hock's shoulders, I got near enough to read that we were thirty-four miles from Columbia, having averaged not quite twelve miles a night.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ESCAPED PRISONERS SEARCHING FOR THE ROAD AT NIGHT.]

Being now out of provisions, much of our time was spent in looking for sweet potatoes along the road. Sometimes we would see a nice patch in front of some wayside house; but almost every house had a dog or two, and they ever seemed on the alert for tramps; and it was quite a risk to attempt to dig sweet potatoes with those dogs making such a racket, and we were often glad enough to get away without being detected, and even without the desired potatoes. How those dogs would bark! It seemed as though they would arouse the whole neighborhood with their eternal yelping. I took a solemn oath during that journey that if I ever lived to get free, I would thereafter shoot every dog I could find, and I pretty near kept that oath, too. We were not so much afraid of their biting us as we were that they would be followed by their masters with loaded guns; and often we would make a detour of a mile, rather than have attention attracted to us by those yelping curs.

The fifth night of our tramp was cloudy and dark, so much so that the little North Star, that had thus far been our guide, as well as the full moon that had lighted up our road, was completely hidden from our view, and we were left to grope our way as best we could. In the darkness we came to where the roads forked, and although there was a guide board, it was in vain that I tried by mounting Captain Hock's shoulders and lighting matches, to read the directions, to find which road led in the right direction.

After talking the matter over, and consulting our little map as well as we could by the aid of lighted matches, we took the road to the right, and although it may seem paradoxical, for this once right was wrong.

We traveled on this road two or three miles, when we were satisfied that we should have taken the other fork, but thinking we would come to a road soon that bore in the right direction, we kept plodding along in the darkness and finally in the rain, and when near daylight we went into camp, we only knew we were in the woods somewhere in South Carolina, but in what particular portion of that state we could not tell. Of one thing we were satisfied, and that was that we were tired out and half starved.

We spread our blankets on the wet ground and, with the rain falling in our faces, slept as soundly as though our bed was one of down instead of the wet ground.

Awaking about 10 o'clock, I started out on a reconnoissance, and, after carefully skirmishing around for an hour, found that we were near the Saluda river, and that there was a ferry near by, the river at this point being very wide. We did not wish to cross this river, and had tried hard to avoid it, but by taking the wrong road at the forks had run right onto it.

Instead of laying by this day, we started out to try to find a road that led in the right direction. We found some persimmons, which we gathered and ate to satisfy our hunger; but tramped all day in the rain until 4 o'clock in the afternoon before we found a road that seemed to run in the direction we wished to go. When we finally came to a road that seemed to point to the northwest, we pushed on rapidly for sixteen miles before halting, although we were hungry and tired; and when we finally came to another guide board, we found that we were only forty-four miles from Columbia. This was Tuesday, the 18th, and we had left Columbia the morning of the 14th, thus making an average of only eleven miles a day, or rather a night.

We had nothing to eat but raw corn, which we sh.e.l.led from the cob, and munched as we walked. My legs had now became swollen and inflamed to such an extent that, had I been at home, I would not have thought I could walk a dozen blocks, still we marched sixteen miles that night, and the next morning we went into camp within the sound of pa.s.sing cars. That night we started out again, but had not gone more than half a mile before we again came upon the river. This was discouraging for, as I have said, we did not wish to cross the river but to go in a parallel direction, and this road ended at a ferry.

There was nothing to do but go back and try to find a road that branched off from the one we were just traveling. The country through which we were pa.s.sing was densely wooded, and the weather was cloudy and rainy, and, after tramping all day and all the next night, we finally went into camp again; but where we could not tell, except that it was in the woods.

We had traveled hither and thither for thirty-six hours without anything to eat.

After resting and sleeping until about 11 o'clock in the forenoon, we started out again to find a road. We found a corn field in which some beans had been planted between the hills, and gathered the ears of corn and picked some of the beans, which we sh.e.l.led and cooked in a tin plate that I had brought along. We were near a spring of water, and, by placing the tin plate on three stones and building a fire with twigs under it, we could, by frequently pouring in water from a tin cup, manage to keep them from burning until they were soft enough to eat. It took a good deal of time and patience to cook enough for three in this way; but by working faithfully all day, I cooked enough to make us think we had had quite a dinner.