An Account of the Escape of Six Federal Soldiers from Prison at Danville, Va. W. H. Newlin
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 near 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 out 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.
"If they have been caught the Rebels will soon miss us, and be on the alert, searching for us," said Sutherland.
"Perhaps we had better be off then," I answered.
We listened a moment longer, but heard nothing. We then gathered our haversacks and blankets, and started westward through the woods. We had gone but a few steps before we heard the noise of persons climbing the fence. We halted and remained perfectly still, as we were not sure the rebels were not on our trail. Soon we could distinguish the forms of two persons in the moonlight. They were moving toward the point of timber we had just left. We now knew they were Smith and Taylor, and soon had the pleasure of hearing our names called in low, subdued tones by their familiar voices. Our whereabouts was soon made known to them, and they were soon with us. Smith and Taylor wished to know why we had not stopped in the point of timber, as agreed upon. We told them we had stopped there, had waited some time for them, and had given them up as lost, and then started on our journey alone, getting as far as that before hearing them.
We had not long to wait for Wood and Trippe. They had followed Smith and Taylor more closely than the latter had followed Sutherland and myself. When Trippe and Wood had joined us, we introduced ourselves as Federals, and late nurses at the small-pox hospital near Danville, Va. As the squads of two each had formed a junction, our party of six was ready to move.
After adjusting our haversacks and blankets about us, so that we could easily carry them, we set out through the woods in a westerly direction. In the woods we found that the snow which had fallen a few days before had not melted. We disliked to walk on it, as we left a distinct trail behind. We pushed on, however, and soon struck a wagon road, from which the snow had either blown off or melted away. It was not a public road, but was used merely as a timber road, to get out of the woods with loads of rails and wood. Its surface was very hard and gravelly, and we followed it a mile or two in a southerly direction without leaving many distinct foot-prints.
The railroad leading from Danville, Va., to Greensboro, N. C., was soon reached, and we followed it in a south-west course: we walked on the ties, and made very good time. Soon we had reached a part of the road which ran over a high grading. On hearing a distant rumbling noise in the south, we judged there was a train of cars coming. In a few minutes more we saw the head-light on the engine as it came around the curve made necessary by the hills. We quickly slipped down the side of the grading into the bushes, and watched the train as it passed. But one person on the train was visible to us, and that was a man standing at the door of the last car with a lantern in his hand.
On regaining the top of the grade, we resumed our travels, walking on the ties as before. We followed the railroad until we had gone about five miles from our starting-point, when we came to a wagon road, which crossed the railroad at right angles. This road had the appearance of being much traveled; by turning to our right and following it, we went north-west—the direction we wished to go. As we passed a house near the road side, Trippe recognized the place as one he had seen when out before, making his first attempt to escape. He also knew the road we were following would lead us to the Seven-mile Ferry. This ferry was so called from the fact of its being seven miles up Dan River from Danville. We wished to gain the left or northern bank of Dan River before daybreak, if possible, and we pushed on eagerly and rapidly. The road was smooth. Its white sandy surface could be plainly seen. Dense woods, with thick bushy undergrowth, closely lined it on either side. The hill leading down to the ferry was at length reached. It was a long, but not a steep hill. The road as it led us down the hill-side was meandering in its course.
When we were but little more than half-way down hill, the thought that there might be a guard at the ferry happened to suggest itself to Trippe's mind. He proposed that we should retire into the brush near the road side, and wait until he should go on toward the ferry and reconnoiter. We assented to this proposal, and went a dozen steps or more from the road and halted. Trippe went on down hill alone. He was gone several minutes, a half hour almost it seemed to us in our restless anxiety and concern. We became impatient for his return, and quitting our places in the brush, walked down hill