PRISON DOORS ARE OPENED.
When Calhoun parted from Joyce he sank back in the carriage and gave
himself up to the most gloomy thoughts. The sorrow of parting from her
took from him the joy of his escape. During the journey his dusky driver
did not speak a word. The drive seemed a long one to Calhoun, and he was
thoroughly wearied when the carriage drew up by a log house, surrounded by
a small clearing.
“Heah we be, Massa,” said Abe, as he alighted from his seat. “Hope Massa
had a good ride.”
The door of the house was opened by a motherly looking colored woman, and
Abe, taking Calhoun once more in his arms, carried him into the house.
Aunt Liza, as the wife of Abe was called, seeing Calhoun looking so pale
and thin, put her fat, black hand on his forehead, and said, “Po’ chile,
po’ chile, don’t yo’ worry. Aunt Liza take good care ob yo’.”
Calhoun felt that he was among friends—friends that would prove faithful
and true. He was carried up a ladder to a chamber. The upper part of the
house was all in one room, rather low, but the rough walls were
whitewashed, and everything was neat and clean. He was placed on a
snow-white bed, and soon sank into a peaceful slumber. When he awoke the
sun was shining in at the window and Aunt Liza appeared with a breakfast
good enough to tempt the appetite of one far more particular than Calhoun.
The invalid remained with his kind friends two weeks, treated like an
honored guest, and protected from every inquiring eye. He gained strength
rapidly, and at the end of a week was able to walk out evenings, when
there was no danger of being seen. Once men who were searching for him
entered the house, and Calhoun could hear every word that was said. His
heart beat painfully, for it entered his mind that Abe and his wife might
betray him for the sake of the reward offered. But the thought did
injustice to these simple-minded people. As for the searchers, the loft of
the house of a poor negro who had run away from slavery was the last place
they thought of looking for an escaped Confederate.
Through Abe Calhoun often heard from Joyce. She cheered him with words of
love and comfort, but absolutely refused to come and see him, saying it
would be dangerous. In this she was right, for Andrew Harmon was alert. He
believed that Joyce had had something to do with the disappearance of
Calhoun, and had her closely watched. Fortunately his suspicions did not
extend to Abe, so that communication between Joyce and Calhoun was not
interrupted. At the end of two weeks he felt able to leave his place of
concealment. But where should he go? He longed to be South, in the midst
of the strife, but his heart was drawn toward Columbus, where his comrades
lay languishing in prison. What could he do at Columbus? He did not know,
but something might transpire that would enlighten him. At least he would
go and look over the field. Once out of the neighborhood, in his Federal
uniform and with Brown’s discharge in his pocket, there would be little
fear of detection. He made his preparations to go, wrote Joyce the letter
which she prized so highly, and bade his kind protectors farewell, placing
in their hands a hundred dollars. Their surprise and joy over the gift
were about equal.
“De Lawd keep yo’!” said Aunt Liza, wiping her eyes.
Calhoun had determined to start early in the evening, travel all night,
lie concealed during the day, and travel the next night. By that time he
thought he would be so far away from the place of his escape that he could
venture to take the cars without danger. Aunt Liza had supplied him with
ample provisions for the two days. He carried out his programme, and on
the morning of the second day found himself near a small town where he
concluded to take the cars, but deemed it safer to wait for the night
train. The conductor eyed him sharply when he paid his fare instead of
showing a pass, for soldiers generally travelled on Federal
transportation. But the conductor took the money and passed on without
remark.
Opposite Calhoun in the car sat a gentlemanly looking man, and much to
Calhoun’s surprise, when the conductor passed, he saw the gentleman make
the sign of recognition of the Knights of the Golden Circle, and it was
answered by the conductor. When the conductor next passed Calhoun gave the
sign. The man stared, but did not answer. But he seemed to be troubled,
and passed through the cars frequently, and Calhoun saw that he was
watching him closely. At length, in passing, the conductor bent down and
whispered to the gentleman opposite. Calhoun now knew another pair of eyes
were observing him.
Watching his opportunity, Calhoun gave this gentleman the sign of
recognition. The gentleman shifted uneasily in his seat, but did not
answer.
“I will give you something stronger,” thought Calhoun, and the next time
he caught the gentleman’s eye, he gave the sign of distress. This was a
sign no true knight could afford to ignore. Leaning over, the gentleman
said, “My boy, you look pale. Have you been sick?”
“Very, and I now need friends,” answered Calhoun.
“Come over here and tell me about it,” said the gentleman.
Calhoun took a seat by his side, and the man whispered, “Are you a
deserter, and are they after you?”
“Yes,” said Calhoun.
“Where are you going?”
“To Columbus.”
“That is a poor place to go to keep out of the hands of Lincoln’s
minions,” answered the man.
“I am not afraid,” said Calhoun. “What I want to know is where I can find
friends in Columbus whom I can trust—true, firm friends of the South.”
“My name is Pettis,” replied the man. “I reside in Columbus. Once let me
be satisfied as to who you are and what you are wearing that uniform for
and I may be able to help you.”
“That is easily answered,” said Calhoun; “but first I must be fully
satisfied as to you. Let me prove you, my brother.”
Calhoun found that Mr. Pettis was high up in the order, and was violent in
his hatred of the Lincoln government. He could be trusted.
“I am not a Federal soldier,” said Calhoun after he had fully tested him.
“I am wearing this uniform as a disguise. I am a Confederate officer.”
“What! escaped from Johnson’s Island?” asked Mr. Pettis, in astonishment.
“No, I am one of Morgan’s officers.”
Mr. Pettis nearly jumped off the seat in surprise.
“Morgan’s officers are all in the penitentiary,” he gasped.
“One is not and never was,” answered Calhoun.
Mr. Pettis regarded him closely, and then said: “It can’t be, but it must
be. Is your name Pennington?”
“It is,” replied Calhoun.
“Why, the papers have been full of your escape. But the general opinion
seemed to be that you wandered away in a delirium and died.”
“Which you see is not so,” said Calhoun, with a smile.
“How in the world did you get away?”
“That is a secret which I cannot tell even you.”
“Very well; but, Mr. Pennington, you must come home with me. You will find
friends in Columbus, many of them, who will be delighted to meet you.”
When Columbus was reached, Calhoun, on advice of Mr. Pettis, bought a suit
of citizen’s clothes, for, said he, “We Knights hate the sight of that
uniform; it’s the badge of tyranny.”
Calhoun saw that he had found a friend indeed in Mr. Pettis. No Southerner
could be more bitter toward the Lincoln government than he. He fairly
worshipped Vallandigham, and said if he would only return to Ohio, he
would be defended by a hundred thousand men. He was especially indignant
over the way Morgan and his officers were treated.
“We have schemed and schemed how to help him,” said he, “but see no way
except we storm that cursed penitentiary as the Bastille was stormed.
And,” he added, with emphasis, “the day is fast approaching when we will
do it.”
For three days Calhoun remained at Mr. Pettis’s, wearying his brain as to
how he might help his general, but every plan proposed was rejected as
impracticable. On the third morning he happened to pick up a paper, and
glancing over its columns, saw an advertisement which caused every nerve
in his body to tingle. It was an advertisement for a boy to work in the
dining-room and wait on the table at the penitentiary. The advertisement
stated that the sole duty of the boy was to wait on the table when the
Confederate officers ate, as they objected to being waited upon by
convicts. In less than five minutes Calhoun was in his Federal uniform and
on his way to the penitentiary to apply for the position.
“You do not look very strong,” said the warden, kindly; “do you think you
could fill the bill?”
“I am sure I can,” said Calhoun. “Only try me and see.”
“Well,” replied the warden, “I had rather hire a boy who has served his
country, as you have, and I will give you a trial.”
Thus to his great joy Calhoun found himself hired to wait upon his old
comrades in arms. With what feelings he commenced his duties can be
imagined. Would they recognize him, and in their surprise give him away?
No, he thought not. They knew too well how to control themselves for that.
It was with a beating heart that Calhoun waited for the time of the first
meal. It came, and the Confederate prisoners came marching in. How
Calhoun’s heart thrilled at the sight of his old comrades! But if they
recognized him they did not show it by look or sign.
When the meal was finished and the prisoners marched out, Calhoun managed
to give Morgan a little slip of paper. On it was written: “I am here to
help you if I can. Be of good cheer.”
But how could Calhoun help them? Even at meal-time guards stood everywhere
watching every move. His duties did not take him out of the dining-room.
Calhoun began by making a careful survey of the building in which the
prisoners were confined. Fortune favored him. One day he made a remark to
one of the employees of the prison that the floor of the building seemed
to be remarkably dry and free from damp.
“It should be,” was the reply; “there is an air chamber under the floor.”
Like a flash there came to Calhoun a plan for escape. If this air chamber
could be reached a tunnel might be run out. He took careful note of all
the surroundings, and drew a plan of the buildings and surrounding
grounds. These he managed to pass to Morgan unobserved. At the next
meal-time as Morgan passed him, he said, as if to himself, “No tools.”
This was a difficult matter. Nothing of any size could be passed to them
without discovery. But in the hospital Calhoun found some large and finely
tempered table-knives. He managed to conceal several of these around his
person, and one by one they were given to Morgan.
Calhoun now waited in feverish excitement for the success of the plan. He
had done all he could. The rest depended on the prisoners themselves.
Through the shrewdness and indomitable energy of Captain Thomas H. Hines
the work was carried to a successful termination inside the prison wall.
General Morgan occupied a cell in the second tier, and could do nothing.
Only those who occupied cells on the ground floor had any hopes of
escaping. Captain Hines, with infinite labor made an opening through the
floor of his cell into the air chamber. Once in the air chamber they could
work without being discovered. With only the table-knives to work with,
these men went through two solid walls, one five feet, and the other six
feet in thickness. Not only that, but they went through eleven feet of
grouting. Then, working from under, they went through the floors of six
cells, leaving only a thin scale of cement, which could be broken through
by a pressure from the foot. The work was commenced November 4, and
finished November 24. Thus in twenty days seven men, working one at a
time, had accomplished what seemed almost impossible.
During these days Calhoun could only wait and hope. As the prisoners
passed him in the dining-room, all they could say was “Progressing,” “Not
discovered yet,” “All is well so far.” At last, on the 24th, Calhoun heard
the welcome words, “Finished. First stormy night.”
Calhoun now examined the time-tables and found that a train left Columbus
for Cincinnati at 1:15 A. M.; arriving in Cincinnati before the prisoners
were aroused in the morning. So he wrote on a slip of paper: “Escape as
soon after midnight as possible.” He believed that train could be taken
with safety. The afternoon of November 27, the weather became dark and
stormy. At supper-time Calhoun heard the glad word, “To-night.”
As soon as his duties were done he hurried to the home of Mr. Pettis,
exchanged his uniform for citizen’s clothes, telling Mr. Pettis his work
at the penitentiary was done, and he had decided to leave. “Ask no
questions; it is better that you know nothing,” said Calhoun.
Mr. Pettis took his advice, but he was not surprised in the morning when
he heard that Morgan had escaped. For General Morgan to escape, it was
necessary for him to occupy a lower cell. His brother, Captain Dick
Morgan, occupied the cell next to Captain Hines. The Captain, giving up
his chance of escaping, effected an exchange of cells with his brother.
This was easily accomplished, as they were about of a size, and it was
quite dark in the cells when they were locked in.
The General had been allowed to keep his watch. When a few minutes after
twelve came, he arose, fixed a dummy in his bed to resemble a man
sleeping, and breaking through the thin crust over the opening with his
foot, slipped into the air chamber. He gave the signal, and was quickly
joined by his companions. Captain Morgan had made a ladder out of strips
of bed-clothing, and by the aid of this ladder they hoped to scale two
walls, one twenty feet high, which would stand between them and liberty,
after they had emerged from the tunnel.
A little before midnight Calhoun made his way as close as he durst to the
place where he knew the wall must be scaled. Not three hundred feet away
several guards were gathered around a fire. The night was cold, and the
guards kept close to the fire. Slowly the minutes passed. The city clocks
struck half-past twelve. Would they never come? Had their flight been
detected?
Suddenly a dark spot appeared on top of the wall. Then another, and
another, until Calhoun counted seven. They were all there. Silently they
slid down the rope ladder, the talk and laughter of the guards ringing in
their ears. But noiselessly they glided away, and the darkness hid them.
“This way,” whispered Calhoun. When out of hearing of the guards, they
stopped for consultation. It would not do to keep together. They decided
to go two and two. Calhoun handed each a sum of money. There was a strong
clasping of the hands, a whispered farewell, and they who had dared so
much separated.
The next morning there was consternation in the penitentiary at Columbus.
The news of Morgan’s escape was flashed over the country. The Federal
authorities were astonished, dumbfounded. A reward of five thousand
dollars was offered for his recapture. Every house in Columbus was
searched, but to no purpose. John Morgan had flown.
[Illustration: ESCAPE OF MORGAN FROM PRISON]